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ir"T Yf TniiiWii fiim xi m «i4« 








rimiT ?ABTom or 




VOL. I. 



\ 18 5 3. 


Tbb DcFtrinil Tract ind Book Soriety now offer to the pablic a col- 
lected edition of the works of rbomos Shcpard, with a Memoir of his Lift 
and Character. Tho Memoir vaa wriiica b; John A. Albro, D. D., of 
Cambrid^ — the Pwitor of the same church galliered by Shcpard, Tht 
article* which make the Tolumcs wb now issao were printed, aorno of Iheiii 
in Shcpard'a lifetime, and tome nflcr \».i death ; some of them in ihb 
country, and some of them in England. Some of them have passed throneili 
KTBraf editions, and were mnch estocmBd, and eierlcd great influence to 
their daj, bat all or which ha<e long since been out of the market, and ara 
not CO he found, except in some public and ancieDt library, or here and thsra 
in eom? family, handed down from post cBnerntions. 

From Ilia character ini inflneDce in me early history of the Maasachu- 
ietts colony, fi'oui the intrinsic merit of bis writings, and from an in- 
creasinc desire Ibnl the sacrvd literature of the New Eoglnnd futbcrs should' 
be revived and placed before the preseoE generation, it baa been deemed 
desirable lo issue Sliepard's works. 

His power aa a preacher has seldom been equaled, and his writings bars 
hod, and ore destined still lo have, great innaeDce in the formation of 
Christian character. The frequent ijnolaliona from him by President 
Edwards and the earnest commendation of him by Dnrid Brainerd (bm 
vol. iii. page 337} and other distinguished men, are sufScient lo secun ~' ~ 
extenoi'e circnlalion and reading of these volumes, 

Shcpnrd's stylo of writing is somewhat peculiar. He abounds in na . .. 
ical divisions and subdivisions, ant) sometimes these diviiions ood snbdi* 
viaion* are so intermixed as lo make it difficult to dislingaisb the one Irani 
the other. A few otnoletc words are sometimes used, and In a few instnncei, 
stntences are found somewhat obacure. owing, as is presumed, to the fad 
thai some of the articles were published after his death from brief notes used 
to guide his thonKbls in speaking, and not designed for the press, and which 
be would have tilled out. or made more pcrspicuDos, had he tired to edit 
Ibese articles himself. Bnt, test we should bo supposed to alter his mean- 
ing, we do not undertake to fill up seeming omissions, or to clear up ob- 
scurities. We design lo eivc a faithful transcript of the man, and his works, 
without abridgment or nitonition, except the onhoyrojAg, which we conform 
to the present standards. We would have those eminent men of oldea 
lime, who, by their stem integrity, their consistent pict;, and their ardent 
attachment lo diiine tratb, contributed so much to give character and 

Btaldlity to our instilntions, speak for themselves, and in their own manner. 

While we revere their memory, and are ibantful for the pKvileRe of trans- 
milling their pious and able productions lo sncceedinf* generations, we do 
not feel responsible for every aenliruent ibey have advanced, and would 
leave each reader to compaie them with the only infallible standard, and form 
hii own conclusions. 

With these sentiments, we commit these volames to the public, with tiia 
devout prayer that a divine blessing may attend them, and'lliat the piety 
■nd power of Shepord may be revived ngun. 

Boston, May, 1853. Tas Editor. 



r Tbomib Seefakd, bt Jons A. At-BBo, D. D^ 



■ God, and ihia God is most glorioiu 

I Pour giODudi Ui proTB ibere ia a God 

I OhJcctioBi aniwcred, 
I Godn 



W-Ooi mMt gloHoot in hii auribatM, 

P,AnribalM oT God lUlcd and «xpUinod 15-17 

>d gloHoat ia hu pcrcon, 
■■ Ood glofiaiu in bii woiki, . 

(Ood Bftd« in mankiod at SnI in a moi-t glorioaa and bnppf state, 

lik« snlo faimwir, 18-2* 

;« of God in man appeared in four punirulai?, in hia an- 
anding, in his aSectiona, in hit will, aait in bis life, ... 18, 19 
nalDTe of Adam's lin, and tbe occssion ercry man baa Co 
Dl bi* fallen itale, 19, SO 

■ Hw Milken ipeaki comfort lo God'a people, SO 

■ Tbc rabjHt reproTin loch ai are aibamed of holineu, 30, SI 

Ens nttitiet rq>niTet inch as bats holineii 21 

« taliimt reproTea iDch a* ore contcntod with ■ cefUin meonire 

of holinau, 

» get the in 

^ot Godn 

S3, a* 

id litllcn bir sin into a aunt woftil and miaenble eoaditJan, 14-16 
'■ HiMrj bj the fall, in regard (o lin and iu eonaeqaencei, . . M-!T 
BSb* Wil acUoni of DDitnenred men arc sinftil 


Objection imiwercd 

Man's preaent misery in regard to tbo consequcDcea of *ia in BOTcn 

panicnlara, 32-35 

I'uturc miacry in conaeqiicnco of sin, 3S-3T 

A general judgment prored 39, 40 

How ibe jndgtUGBt ahall bo 40,41 

The wrath of God, what ? 43-46 


The Lordjeaus Cbmt is the oolv means oC redemption nod dcliT. 

How Christ rtdeemelh men shown in fonr parlicDlira, 46 

Christ is offered to all, 49 

» Four sorts of people that nycol ChriW, 5S. 53 

Rqecting Christ adangeroDs sin in Qre respects, 53, 54 

The danger of Mcnrity M, 5S 


Thoie that are saved are few, and are sarad wift taaA dtllicalij, . 55-«e 

The small namber of true believers in all ptacei 95-ftS 

A n»e of exhortation to all, 98, 59 

Objections and pleas answered, 59-63 

Unregf Derate men live in some known sin, and are nerer poor in spirit, GS, G3 

Those Ibat are saved, saved with di&uItT, 64 

Four strait galea described, 54, 65 

Nine eas; wajs to heaven, all which lead to hell G5-6S 


The cause of nan's eternal ruin is from himself, 68-109 

The ways in which men rain themselves — by ignorance, .... 68 

Two sorts of people ignorant of their misery, G9-T1 

Palse principles by which men are deceived, TI,7S 

Seven distempers In the mind whereby men ftre deceived, .... 73-78 

Mialakitig some li^t sorrow for sin Tor trae repentanee, 

Mistaking compunctions of conacience fbr striving apuott tin, . . 79,30 

■^ Mistaking the exercises of the heart, 80-8 

■- How false peace is bred in the soul, ■ 83, 8 

I. By Satan, in live ways 83-90 

3. By false teachers, 85. H 

3. By a false spirit, five several ways, M,n 

L By a false application of the tr 

Cornpiioni uid diswaipers of Ilie will, ilie tniisc of «elf-Jcccp- 

tioD, three wajg, 

Canwl iccaritf h aoolher reuoa of man't min, 

JUwon* (if tbia Mcurilv wen in (en puiticulnra, 

An exhorution lo rkrIco ouI of icLiiriiy 

""Tftllr ''AM in ffrr « •-r'-r- '■"" 93,94 

CunatMoSdenei) is aaotlier rcawn of man's rain. . . - 
Cinikl conftdonn leen ia tbcir resting in duties ibowa ii 


VTbj men ntit in their dnlica, four naatiat 99, 10 

Bi^o* of ■ Dian'a realing in hii dutio, six pnrtiuulnn 101-lt> 

Tba iotutGi-iencj of all duties to save nan, 104. 10 

The end of oar good dulid, 10S-)0 

k Pretampiioii or falK faith another way of man'i ruin, .... lOT, 10 







BacT. I. A fourfold act of Chnii'i power in rescuing and deliv- 
ering men out of tbeir miHmble stale lls- 

K. 1. H>« flnt Mt of Christ'a power ia^conrkiion of >in. 
WhW [^ ^ almhe I.<ird conricn of* How hp doth 
h 1 and what meainre and degree of convkiion he 
work lir- 

ficcT. X The second act of Chri*l'« [lower is compunction , or 
Hniw of An, I . This rompunction innni'dialely fol- 
lows ronriclion. S- The Dcce»ity of this to sarreed 
the other. 3. Wherein it consisli. 4. The raensure 
of it in all Ihe elect, 136- 

8bc*. •- The third act of Christ's power, which is humiliation. 
1. Whil it this hnmiliiitioa ? a. What need IUgi« 
1* of it- 3. What means (he Lord nseih to work it. 
A. What meaiure of ii ii here required, IT4-1M 

Sacr. S. The fonnh and lait act of Christ's power is the work 

off^h. 1. Faith dafinad. 190-191 


2. Theeffidcnt canieorruA, 193-lM 

8. The sabjecl or matter of futh, IM-SOl 

4. Theform offaiLb, BOl-SIl 

G. The eDd of faith SU-319 

6. The apecinl ground of fiitli, vii^ tbe odl of Chrial 

in bis word, St9 

The DBlure of thii call 290-223 

The oeceuli; of this call in ibre« piirticnlnra, . . . 223-230 

An exborWtioQ to come to Cbriit, 230-237 




8aoT. I. Juatifi cation, ila natni^ its efilcient cioae, its sabjecCs, 

kOd ilB re»DlU, ■ - - ( 237-247 

SaoT. 9. Beconciliailon. It (»Ds(its in two things, viz^ our 

peace with God, and the lore and favor of God, . . 247-951 

SaoT. 3. Adoption ; begun and pcrTecled, SSl-9as 

Bict. *- Bsnclifi cation, its natnra, and its ertdenee of ^nstifl- 

ciition, 963-963 

SbCt. B. Andipnce of all players, 963-267 

Sbci. 6. Glorifitalioo. What is it 7 9S7-274 







■ CHC riaST PB1NCIFLE3 OF THE OKACLE* OF SOD, , . 333-3^1 





Tr» maipriflls for the ensuing Life of Tuovas SnEPASD hsre been 
gathered rroin hia own wridngs, and from all aeeoasitle conlempomneoufl 
■onri-cs. Besides bis printed works, which exhibit his views of religion nnd 
the chureli, nnd aid aHtn forming a, judgment r^pecting his niind and ehnr- 
■cler, Hr. Shepard \e(t in MS. an Antobiography. eontaining brief nDliees 
of tho principal OTeats in hia peironnl anddameelic historj, which was first, 
published to the world by Rev. I^eheiniah Adums, in IS33.aniI more rcoent* 
Ij by Bev. Mr..Yonnp, in " The Chrooidea of MassachoBclls." The Life 
of Sbepard, as it is railed, in Mather's Mugoalia. the only one i 
been written, is but little more than an abridgment of this Autobiographr,' 
(the third perwD being nied instead of the first,} with a few quaint, general 
observations interspersed, which, together, conslilDle but a meager and 
Unsatisractary view of the chnraeter and inSacnce of (his eminent man. In 
the present work. Mr. Sbepard's «rcount of himself has, of course, been 
relied on, ai far as it goes, for faetd and dates ; but a vast amount of inat- 
ler, eawntial to the illustration ofliis labors, and to ujust view of his posi- 
tiou in New England, has been drawn from other sources. Several inter- 
esting MS, Letters, never before published, which throw moch light npon 
Hr. Shepard's domestic and publie life, have, hj the pcnniBsion of Mr. Felt, 
the BCCompliBbcd librarian of the Massachnsetts Historical Society, been 
kindly transcribed for the aoihor bj Mr. David Pulsifer, the only man. it 
_il believed, who could hare deciphered the chirography in which ibey hava 
been locked np for more than two hundred years. The work is, doubileia, 
very imperfect, notwithstanding all the pains which have been token to ren- 
der it complete ; but, as a sincere tribute to the memory of one uf New 
England's best as well as chief faihers. and an attempt to vindicate the 
principles of those men to whom we owe onr civil nnd religious liberty, it 
it commended to the children of the Puritans, in tlie hope that it toay be 
regarded as not entirety destitute tif interest, and contribute somewhat to 
the auccesB of the cause in which we are engaged. 


This memoir was originally written for the Massschus 
Society, anrl may be hud, sepamtely, at iheir Depositor; 

s Snbbnth School 




T1ieihidd</ Tftith. — General charuMr and diSferent cluseiof earif K. E. 
niouun. — Ur. Shepardone of iho Hral clua.— Hia birch. — Wiltiam 
Sbcpard. — A nolber'j inSa*nce. — Seat u> reaide with bj* graadparenli. 
Bnnair4 to Adlhrop. — Whitian'Ale!, — Retami home. — Changes in 
ibc hnilj. — L'nkind ncp-moiher. — Welsh ichoolroMtfr. — Death of hi» 
iitbtr. — Ednntion negleeied by hi* motber-in-law. — Hi* brotlier John 
cAn to edncau him. — Goca to a new achooL — DiUgBHc* in ftodjr. — 
Fittad for college. 

VnaiL. in ihe eighth book of the ^oeid, tells us that the 
riiieU «bich Vulcan, at the request of Venus, made for j^ncas, 
coMahied in Biiteeti comparttnenis, or pictures, a prophetic 
of the Roman history from the birlh of Asca- , 
U the battle of Actium. 

- The brettnii flm a glorious shield prepare, 
Capadous of iho wholo Rutulian war. 
Sotiw. orii in orh, the biailng bncklrr fratQO , 
ScMB* with bugs bellows roaso thu ronriac flaine. 

With joj Ihe weight]' ipear Ihe prince beheld. 
Bat moat admireil the hago, mysterious shield ; 
Tot there had Vnlc?«n, ibilleil in times to come. 
Displa]>ed tbe iriumphi of immortal Rome ; 

There all llic Julian lino [he goJ liiul MTouglit, 
And chiirged the gold with hatllts yet imfought." • 

A device which must have been as terrible to the enemies 
of the Trojiiii hero as it was encouraging lo the bearer. 

What Virgil liere presents as a beautiful poetic idea, the 
Redeemer of the church has actually realized for us. TVe have , 
tlie shield of faith, wherewitJi to quench all the fiery darts of/ 
iho wicked, emblazoned with the mighty history, past and pro- 
spective, of his stupendous victories. On one part of ita flam- 
ing disk we see the story of the ancient dispensation, written 
for the admonition and encoun^cment of those who have inher- 
ited " the covenants, and the promises, and the service of God ;" 
on another portion, there appears the memorable history of our 
own New England Patriarchs, from the birth of Puritanism 
to the permanent and quiet settlement of a pure church in 
this land, exhibiting the trials, sufferings, conllicts, and triumphs 
of those Christian heroes who turned this wilderness into a fruit- 
ful field ; a history which should be kept in perpetual remem- 
brance, and constantly held forth to the world, for the purpose 
of animating their and our posterity in the labors and contticta 
that are before ua.f 

The ministers and Christiana by whom New England was 
planted, as one of our early historians has remarked, were a 
chosen company of men. drawn from nearly all the counties 
of England, not by any human contrivance, but by a peculiar 
work of God upon their spirits, inspiring them as one man to 
retire into the wilderness they knew not where, and to suffer 
in that wilderness they knew not what, for the glory of God, 

* Ingmtom cljpcuiii inromiDDi, nnum omaift contin 
Tela Lttinoram, ioptenasqne orbibiu urb«a 

Illic rei Iiolu, Romflnominqne Iriampbos 
Haud VBtum jgnaras, vonlarique inscias ajri, 
FeMrat ignipolens: illic geniu oiiiDe futune 
Slirpia »b Ascanio. pngnataqae in ordino bella. 

t See Letters on the Turilans. hy J. B. Williams. 

LtFK or TUUMAS SlieiVVKI), Xl 

>nd for the good of their children.* " God sifted three Tin- 
tkiiM," says Stoughtoit, " thnt be miglit bring clioiL-e whcnt inro 
bis wilderness." i 

These enrly ininislerB of New England are divided, byv 
Uather, into three classes: I. Those wlio were onlaini^d and 
in the m-tual ciercise of the piinisiry when they left Englnnd, 
and were iho first to preach the gospel nod to establish church- 
tt, according to the scriptural model, in this country. 2. Young 
Rcbolars, who came over from England with their parents and 
riende, and completed their education — already begun at home 
-in this country, before the college waa in a condition lo be- 
atow its honors. 3. Those who came over lo New England 
4fter the re establishment of Epiacopocy in the mother country, 
And ibe revival of that persecutipn which was designed, as 
Jamea I. declured, lo force the Puritans to conform, or to " harry 
tbem out of the kingdom." 

To these Mather adds a fourth class, which he calls, fitly 
•nough, the "Anomalies of New England," tjial is, a few mints* 
ton from oilwr parts of the world, who proved either so errone- 
aa» Id their principles, or so scandalous in their lives, or so hostile 

ibe order of the churches, that they cannot be classed among 
r " woriliies," and deserve no honorable notice from us.t 
Mr. Shepard, whose life we here ollempt lo delineate, be- 

K>g<!d to ihc fii'st class of rainiaters, who were instrumental 

1 laying the foundations and in settling ihe order of the firstN 
rfiarcfaea in Massachusetts ; and although his humility ever 
qpHMtnuned him to lake the loweiit place, yet in learning, lal- 
CnU, picly, and influence be was not a whit behind the " very 

Aicfcsl of the apostles " of Congregationalism in the new world. 
Bo was one of those " wise master builders " — few in number, 
but grtu in oil that constitutes true excellence — lo whom we 
e whatever of simplicity, strength, or solidity belongs to our 
»ysiem, and, wc may udd, lo our civil state. His 
MMf not be so oflen pronounced in discourse respecting 

> MsKnalin, 


the ori^Dol cooBtitution of our churches as ihat of John Cotton, 
who has been called, and not improperly, the " Father of Con- 
gregationfllism " in New England ; but the part he actt^, and 
the influence he exerted in fashioning iheso churches according 
to the "pattern showed in the mount," entitled bin) to equal 
honor. Not inferior to Norton, Hooker, or Davenport, in intel- 
. lectUttl strength and logical acutencss, he perhaps excelled Lhem 
^all in lliitt flne, beautiful, practical spirit, which was at that time 
more needed than even genius, and in contemplating which, we 
become insensible to the greatness of hia talents and the extent 
of his learning. Although he was a prominent and an efRcient 
actor in scenes of controversy and public disorder, which stirred 
up all the fountains of bitterness, such were his candor and ten- 
■iderness that the odium of persecution was never attached to his 
memory ; and while subject to tike passions, and exposed to the 
same temptations, as other men, his reputation has descended to 
as without a blot from the hand of friend or foe. It is not too 
much, therefore, to say, that Mr. Shcpard was a man whom 
Mnssachusetts and New England ought to hold in profound re- 
ipect ; and his lite, if it receives any thing like justice from hia 
biographer, will be read with interest and proUt by all classes of 
the community. 

Thomas Suepard was bora at Towcester, near Northamp- 
too, in Northamptonshire, England, on the fifth day of Novem- 
Niher, 1605. Hb own statement, in his Autobiography, is, that 
he was born '' in the year of Christ 1604, upon the fifth day of 
November, called the Powder Treason day, and at that very 
hour of the day wherein the Parliament should have been 
blown up by the Popish priests;" which induced his father to 
give him this name, Thomas, " because, he said, I would hardly 
believe (an allusion to the scepticism of the apostle Thomas) 
that ever any such wickedness should be attempted by men 
■gainst so religious and good a Parliament." As it is certtun 
thai the famous Powder Plot was contrived, if contrived 
in 1605, and was to have been executed on the tifth day of No- 



e obliged to place Mr. Sfaepard's birth in this jtae 
■nd (in this day, DolwilhsUDding the contradictoty date with 
trhich be begins hi« account of hiiDEetf ; for it is more lILely 
jU he sboald have forgotten, at the moment of writing, the ex- 
* date of the Powder Flol, than the fuel, — m indissolubly aa- 
cialed with his name, — that according to the family record 
■od tradition, he was born at the very hour when the Farlia- 
t was to have been blown up by gunpowder. 
The father of the subject of this memoir, William 8hep- 
•rd. was born in Fossecul, a small town near Toweester. 
4 bred to the busincMi of a grocur by a Mr. Bland,' 
who^ daughter he married, and by whom he had nine 
diildren: three »ons, John, William, and Thomas; and six 
Akughlers, Ann. Margaret. Hilary, Elizabeth, Hester, and Sarah. 
B to have been a wise, prudent, and peace-loving man; 
t, Isward the close of Wis life, very prosperoae ia bis busi- 
Thal he was also a godly man, in the sense in which the 
Furitans u«ed that phrase, appears from the fact that be re- 
■Mtved to Banbury, in Oxfordshire, for the sole purpose of so- 
Joying the light of an evangelic&l and eflTective ministry — k 
Mewing which, it seems, could not be had at Towoester. A 
trortdly man, or a mere formalist in religion, was not likely to 
Hrrifice his temporal interests in order to promote the welfare 
•f lii« tovl. DOT leave a quiet and respectable establishment, 
e tlie Kngiish chuteh, for such preaching as was at that time 

I from Puritan pulpits. 
In the early (raining and ultimate development and formation 
r * man's mind, the character Hnd inllueiice of his mother arev 
r pr««mifient importance. The seed that is lo germinate and 
tar frail in taature life, is ordinarily planted by the maternal 
lund dnring the Urct years of childhood. The influence which 
b lo MrrouDd tlie growing intellei-i liki.- un atmosphere, and act 
•pon it at every stage of its ]>rogre»«, flows most frc<{ucntly 
fimn the bear! ne*r which the young immortal has been nour- 
Utti ; and bsppy is the child who can remember nothing earlier 
• looks, tones, prayers, and tears which ore the natural 


expressions o£ mfttcrnnl piety. They can never be forgolten ; 
and amidst llic most powerful temptations, and tlie i?ildeat con- 
flicts of passion, they throng around the soul with warning and 
beseeching voice, to withdraw il from danger, or lo awaken it to 
repentance. AugUBlino acknowledged that he owed his conver- 
sion, under God, to the tears and prayei's of his mother ; and 
Cecil says that be should have been an inGdcl, if it had not been 
for the quiet but perpetual influence of her wbom be loved above 
all other beings. Mr. Shepard was blessed with a pious mother,'' 
She was a woman of a tender and affectionate dispoaition, and 
" much afflieted in conscience, soraetimca even unto distraction," 
but she WHS " sweetly recovetvd," and passed her latter days in 
(he enjoyment of mental serenity and religious peace. She 
prayed much for her children, and especially for Thomas, " her 
youngest and best beloved," upon whose mind she lieema to have 
left the impress of her gentle and pious spirit, as well as of her 
tender nod scrupulous conscience, which were its most distin- 
guishing charaoteristicB in after life. She died when Thomas 
was about four years old ; but young as he was, he was sensible 
of the " exceeding love " which she felt for him , and during the 
darker season which followed, he remembered her wiib a corre- 
sponding affection. 

When Tbomaa was about three years of age, be was sent to 
■' reside with bis grandparents at Foseecut, in order to avoid an 
epidemic disease which had begun lo prevail at Towccsler, and 
soon swept away several members, sisters as well as ser\'ants, 
from his father's family. Fosaecut was a small, obscure, and 
wicked place — ■' a most blind town and corner." The aged 
grandfather and grandmother, though in comfortable circum- 
stances as to temporal matters, were very ignorant, and, as 
we should naturally infer from the manner in which they dealt 
with the little boy committed lo their care, very irreligious 
people ; for here he was " put to keep geese, and other such 
country work," all the while much neglected by those who 
should have watched over bini. It was not long, however, before 
he was removed from the influence of his grandparents, probably 



coiurqiicncc of this ne;;1ect, lo the family of hie unci?, at -^ 
Adlhrop, nn ailjoining town. The change seems to have been 
much for ihe better ; for Adlhrop was '■ n little blind town ; " 
vhile he there received more atrenlion, and was somewhat 
ipier and more conlenled, he learned to "' sing and sporl as 
,id)ildrcn did in tliose parlfi, and to dance at tlieii- Whitsun-AIcs," /' | 
which were far more peinieiuus to childhood''/ | 
** keeping geese, ami other Bu<:h country work." For 
c not the innocent playa and recreations of chiU 
ig lliemselves, which all persons, even the Puritans, 
and gloomy as lliey are (folsely) represented lo have 
must have approved ; hut those demoralizing wakes, mor-v 
aoea, May games, revels, ett., recommended and sanctioned i 
bj ihMt abomination, " The Book of tjportg." which James I., 
and tAer him Charles, " out of a pious care for the Eervice of 
God." and desiring, with lilial reverence, to " ratify his blessed 
fiHfaer'i decloro^oD," ordered to be read in all the churches, for 
fbe " encouragement of recreations on the Lord's day." The 
on people were fond of these sports i but the Puritans, and 
liie more serioua portion of [he community generally, regarded 
tliein with strong di«ap probation, not only as grossly profaning 
ihe Sabbath, but as being Ihe fiMiitful source of drunkenness, 
debauchery, cunteraiit of authority, quarrels, and even murders ; 
effbrls were made, from time to lime, by the justices of peace, 
to have them suppressed, as highly prejudicial to the pence and 
goTernmenl of the country.' It is not strange, therefore, 
Shepard, in mature life, should have looked hack upon hia 
fly childhood, in which he was exposed to the eormpting in- 
of these sports, as a season of pefidjpr danger, front 
bs was mercifully delivered by a kind Providence. 

tbomts returned again lo his father's house, which he 

tin ouisc of his removal from home hod passed by, h« 

diingi changed, or fast changing, for the worse. His 

"ieut mother" was dead, or died very soon after his return. 

• N«ai, Bisl. pDTiL iL U9. 


TTip sister Margarel, wbo was very fond of Itiii>, iDBrricd her 
father's clerk. Hia sister Atin was lunrrieil to a Mr. Far- 
mer. And to Gil tip the measure of liU_ griefs, his fitiher mar- 
ried a second wile, who soon made him aware of the dilTerence 
between hb " own niollier and a slep-raolher." She evidently 
did not love ihe little motherless boj, aud endeavored to in- 
cense his father against him ; " it may be," says Shepurd, 
meekly, *' that it was justly so, for roy childishness." The neg- 
lect at grandfather's, and the " Whitstin-Ales," at the " Wind 
little town " of Adthrop, may have rendered ihe forlorn child 
somewhat wayward and troublcBome : but the probability is that 
the Btep-mother magnified and misrepresented every fault of the 
orphan, that her own little Samuel might enjoy a lai^r share 
of his father's atfeciion. 

After safiering under this domestic tyranny for some time, he 
was Bent to the free school in Toweesler. But this was to him 
the school of " one Tyrannus," or of " Ajas Flagel lifer." The 
master, whose name was Rice, a Welshman, was very severe 
had irriiAhle ; and he treated the poor boy with sneh harahnesa 
tuid cruelty, as to extinguish, for the time, all love of learning, 
and to make him opflen wish that he might be a "keeper of 
hogs " rather than a scholar. " Bears," says Pliny, " are the 
falter for beating." But this is not always or altogether true 
of boys, especially of such boys as Thomas Shepard, who, it is 
presumed, rarely needed chastisement, and was more likely lo 
be injured than benefited by severity-^ "The fierce, Orbiliun 
way of treating children, too commonly used in schocJs, is a 
dreadful curse of God upon our miserable offspring, who are 
bom ' children of wrath.' " It b boaslcd now and then of a 
schoolmaster, that such and such a brave man had his education 
under him. There is nothing said, how many that might have 
been brave men have been destroyed by him ; how many brave 
wits have been dispirited, confounded, mnrdered by his barba- 
nras way of managing them. If a fault must be punished, let 
instruction, both unto the delinquent and unto the spectator, 
accompany the correction. Let the odious nature of the sin 


thai ban enforced the correclioa be declared, and let nothing i 
be doDe in a passion ; let all be done with all llie evidence of -J 
ii)[>assion tliat may be.* 

WilliaiD Shepard — the father — died when Thomas was 
about ten ^rear.t of age. During hU last sickness, which was "^ 
■hort and very distre^ing, the oppresse^d and dispirited child, 
whom life had begun lo present its slemest realities, prayed 
a^ionalely for his recovery ; and he made a solemn resolution 
serve God better llian he had dune, if his prayers might bo 
Ms*cered ; " as knowing that 1 shoulil be left alone if he were 
Yet the Lord look liiro nway by death, and I was left 
ftihertess and molbcrless, when I was about ten years old." 
It is not lo be inferred from these prayers, that at this early age 
be entertained any hope that he was a Christian ; for children 
*ho have been retigioufly educated will often, under tlie press- 
ure of aflliclion, pray very earneally for relief; but from the 
ftcl that he made a solemn covenant *' to serve God hrUtr" if 
father might recover, we may presume that he had been 
tnder Tfry serious impressions, and had tried to maintain a 
kind of religion in his life. 

Upon the death of his father, he was committed lo the care of 

I ^tIie£4o?[AWj^ who, in eoDside ration of his portion of one ' 

bundrvd pounda, agreed to maintain and educate him. But he 

■u still doomed lo be "much neglected," and to feel more 

keenly than ever ihe difference between his "own mother and a 

Ms|»-inotbcr." She, as was to have been expected from her 

pivTious conduct, proved faithless to her trust ; and at lust his 

htMber Jolin — William being now dead — offered lo lake him, 

tad, for tlw use of his portion, to bring him up o-i his own diild. 

And HO 1 lived witJi this my eldest brother, wlio showed much 

ire unto me, and unto whom I owe much ; for biin God made 

I \m both father and mother unio me." 

About this time the cruel Welsh scbootmasler died, and was 
In the school by a man of latenls and of reputed piety, 

* Ewari to 4a Oood pp. I'i. I't. 


who WHS ftbo employed to officiate as the minister of the town. 
Although he difiappoinled the expectationB of the people with 
respect to his piety, and afterwarda became an "apo^lnle and 
an enemy of all right eons ne^e," he. seems to have been an able 
teacher ; for he succeeded in reviving or awakening in the mind 
of young Shepard — who had conceived such a disgust of study 
that be had rather " keep hoga or beasts than go to school and 
learn" — a love of application, and a strong desire to be a 
scholar. Under this new stimulus, he applied himself with great 
diligence to the Latin and Greek languages, in which he made 
rapid progre^. He was studious, because he was "ambitious 
of being a scholar," and of enjoying " the honor of learning." 
At the same time he seems- to have been, to a certain extent, 
influenced by some higher, if not a truly religious motive ; for 
once, when he was unsuccessful in taking notes of the sermon, 
he was troubled about it, and "prayed tha Lord earnestly " 
for assiatance in this exercise ; a fact which, at lea«t, indicates 
a deep sense of his dependence upon God for success in his 
studies, and a feeling that- he was bound to seek the honor 
which Cometh from above, as well as the " honor of learning." 
But whatever his ruling passion might have been, and what- 
ever may be inferred as to his religious state at this lime, 
from his general serionsness, we know that he devoted him- 
self to the necessary studies with such diligence, and was 
enabled to make such progress in them, that before be had 
reached the age of fifteen, he was pronounced by competent 
judges to be fit for the university. 




Mr. BhcpMd enten Emmanuel Collc^. Cambridge. — Derotes himielf U> 
hard Mudy. — NeglecM religion. — Bcmmca proud of a tittle learning. — 
Rat ibe imall-pox. — Kflecl of Dr. Cbaddenon'i proocbing. — ABSocialu 
wiib disiipatcd foung men. — Remonstrated with bj religiouB friendi. — 
Foils into a gross bid, — Effect of this niii upon his coaideoce. — Dr. 
Prefion. — Dopp conricliont. — Dislrefaiug tempiationa. — Di-spnir. — 
Dawning of ligbl. — I^ler W a friend. — Incivaiing light. — Change 
rf Hft. — Pmob of mind, — Applicaiioa to Mudj. — Graduates with 

Thk brother of Mr. ShepnrtI, having undertaken the care of 
Vacation, waa Anxious to send him to college. But prohn- 
bU the expense of a collegiate course exceeded, at that time, 
kis pecuniary means ; and the portion of one hundred pounda, 
which he had the use, would hardly defray the charges of a 
residence at either of Ibe nnivcn^iliej*. At this moment, go 
rritkal anil decisive in the life of the almost friendless scholar, 
Vt. Cockcrill, a fellow of Kmtnaiiuel College. Cambridge, and V*^ 
■ Raii*e of Nonliamptonshire, came to Northampton upon a 
Tuit to hU friends ; and having Mttisfied himself, by a penonal 
I cxamtnatioii, that Shepnrd was worthy of patronage, encouraged I 
bia brother to send him lo Cambridge, promising to use his in- I 
flaence there in bis behalf. Other persons, connected with the 
aniTenity, interested themselves in this application, and altbongh 
he was, in his own opinion, "very raw and young," he was 
sdmitted lo Emmanuel College &9 a pensioner in the year 1G19. / 
I>imng the early part of his college course, Sir. Cockerill, who 
had K> kindly encouraged and befriended bim, was his tutor. 
Thus this chosen vessel, forsaken of father and mother, and 
«act helpless upon the world was, by " a secret band of Prov- 
idmice," taken out of " that profane and ignorant town of 
TowciHler," the " worst town, I think, in the world," and 
{TMioiisly provided for in Cambridge, "the best place for knowl- 
•dx« and learning." where liv was prepared, by a Mvera 


discipline, for an arduous and important Gervice in (be diurch 
of God. 

Up lo tliis period, although be seems lo have been at times 
deeply serious, and lo Iiave been in the httbit of praying 
frequently under the pressure of affliction, he was evidently 

' destilulc of a saving knowledge of llie truth. During the firpt 
two years of his college life he devoted himself to hard study, 
greatly neglecting religion and the practice of secret prayer, 
(irhiub be bad billierlo observed.) except at times, when bis 
early religious impressions revived with considcraUe force, and 
he was induced to pay eoma attention to the concerns of his 
BOul. The effect of a little learning was what is oflen wit- 
nessed upon minds of his order. When in his third year he/ 
became sophister, he began lo be '' foolish and proud," and to' 
~ exhibit himself in public as a dispuler about things which 
he afterwards saw he " did not then know at all, but only 
prated abou( them." Time and more learning corrected tliis 
folly, and made bim one of the humiilesi, as be was one of 
the dcvoulest of men. It would be well if he bad more im- 
itators in the feelings with which be looked back upon this 
stage of his intellectual development. '' There is noLliing 
more lamentable," says Luther, in hia Table Talk, " than the 
pride and ambition of many young preachers, who wish lo 
shine as logicians, rhetoricians, etc., and become so finical and 
obscure in their preaching, tliat neither the people nor them- 
selves know what tliey are about. A young lawyer, in hia 
first year, is a Justinian ; in his second year he is a doctor; 
in the third a licentiate i in the fourth a bachelor ; in the ttfth 
a student." 

But Mr. Shcpard was not left lo neglect the interests of his 
soul in his ambition to shine as a scholur and a "dispater of this 
world." In his second year lie was brought near lo the grave 

■i by the small-pox, which had awakened him, in some measure, lo 
a senate of his guilt and danger. The preaching of Dr. Chad- 
derlon, the master of Emmanuel College, especially upon a 
taorsment day, also produced a deep impression upon his 


nind. And a few moatha aAervards he heard Itlr. Dickinson, 
I tlie chH]iel, disururee upon the words, " I will not destroy it 
'.tor (en's sidie," nith a poweri'ul elfect upon hifl ciHi»;ience. But 
•se serious impre^ions gradually disappeared, and he unfor- 
lalel; fell inlo ihe society of (tome dissipated young men, who ' 
•ndeavored to cuuoieract and destroy all the influence of those 
pioiis preachers. He even, for a time, went with them in their 
time-waxting and soul-deetroying funusemente and pleaxures, 
Btid seemetl fast making shipwreck of faith and a good con- 
■cicnce. But he waa not suffered to continue long in this 
ihoaghtleM stale. Upon one occasion, a pioua student, with 
whom he chanced to bo walking, described to him " the misery 
of •Everyman out of Christ," and faithfully admonished lum of 
Us guilt and danger. This awakened, and tor a litne checked 
in bis course of folly and ein. At another time he happened 
kt be present when several pious persona were conversing upon 
B wratb of God, revealed from heaven against all unrighteous- 
M and ungodliness of men, which they spoke of under the 
pn of a consuming fire, intolerable and eternal. This conver- 
tioa revived and slrcngibeoed the solemn impressions which had 
boeo previously made upon his mind, and led him to resume the 
pncUc« of lecret prayer, as a means of escaping from that wralli 
to come which he so much feared. 

Bui be had not yet seen the evil of his heart, nor fell that \. 
•Onvktion of sin whit^h prostralea the soul before the throne of 
|rac« in godly sorrow that worketh repentance unto life. The 
•fioct of the conversations referred to soon wore off, as other 
at impressions bad done, until an event occurred which 
nvived Ihem all with overwhelming force, and made him feel, 
w be had never felt before, the need of nioning blood to cleanse 
him from all sin. The sin of Peter, and ils imtuediale effect, are 
kft upon ihe sacred record to show us the depth to which men 
nuy fall if left to themselves, — to encourage the penitent sinner 
to rvtnrit with tears to the Saviour against whom he has sinned, 
—and to exhibit the riches of divine grace, which can rescue tlie 
J fron the deepest degradation ; and for the same reasons we 


record the fact wlncti fuilows, earnestly nilmonishing tlie rentier 
to beware of using ii as nn enirouragement to sin, lest liiii " bands 
be made strong," and repentance be liirl from hia eyes. Aa the 
fears which had been awakened by tbe solemn addresaea of his 
pious fiienda gradually aubaided, Shepard again a-isocialed with 
the loose and disaipated students of Iiis own and of other colleges, 
and frequently joined ibera in ihcir intemperate carousBls j un- 
til, at length, upon a Suturday night, be drunk so freely that 
he became groaaly intoxicated, and was carried, in a stale of 
insensibility, to the chambers of a student of Christ's Col- 
lege, where he awoke lo consciousness late on Sabbath morn- 
ing, sick, and completely prostrated from the effects of this 

The moral impression of tt fall like this is very different 
upon different persons. Some of those dissolute young men, 
probably, thought of that night's excess only as a matter to he 
laughed about at their nest convivial meeting. Not ao with 
Sliepnrd. Filled with confusion and shame by the recollec- 
, lion of his " beastly carriage," he hurried away into llie fields, 
and there hid himself, during the whole of ihnt dreadful Sabbath, 
from every eye but that oi' God. Tlie particular sin, however, 
which made him afraid, and drove him, like Adam, into con- 
ceahnent, not only awakened him to pungent sorrow for this act, 
but opened his eyes to see the exceeding sinfiilncss of hia whole 
life, and tbe necessity of repentance fur all his sins. It was a 
day long to be remembered, for it was the commencement of a 
new life. In thai solitude, where he lay trembling like a culprit, 
" the Lord, who might justly have cut me off in the midst of my 
sin, did meet me with much sadness of heart, and troubled my 
Eoul for this and other sms, which then I bad leisure lo think 
of, and made me resolve to set upon a course of daily medita- 
tion about the evil of ain and my own waye." Let those who 
are disposed lo speak lightly or scornfully of the early trana- 
gressiona of eminent Christians, remember tlie bitter tears with 
which they were hunented and nbandonedx^ 

But with all this trouble of mind, and compunction o 

tf actual sins, lie bud not yet olilatned a true aelt'-knowK-ilge, nor 
seen llie lii<ld<-n evils of liis heart. To llii» derpt^r and clearer 
■Tiew of liiiaseir as a sinner, be was led by llie preaching of Dr.^, 
4*reston, one of the most able llteologians and preachers of " 
Ua time, who became ma<<ter of Emmanuel College in 1622. 
Siiepard, littaring the preaching of Dr. Preston spoken of as 
**nMMt «pirilual and escelleni," by 8iLmuel Stone and others, 
Iklened Mtenlirclj' to the instructions of this celebrated divine, 
hoping to find here that guidance In [he nay of right eonsness 
which he eo much needed. The first sermon which he heard 
from Dr. Preston was upon the words, " Be ye transformed by 
t renewing of your mind," (Rom. xii. 2 ;) in which the nature 
«f a cliMige of heart was clearly unfolded. Under this dis- 
se, " the Lord so bored my ears ns that I under.'lood what 
ke spnke ; the secrets of my soul were laid open before mo, 
I the by|>ocrisy of (vll the good things I thought I had in 
, u if one hod told him of all that ever I did — of all the 
■irnings and deceits of my hcnrt." So clearly wns ho made 
lO see himself, — his secret sins — the whole frame and temper 
if his mind, — that he thought Dr. Preston the " most search- 
ing preacher in the world;" and with profound gratitude to 
Bod, Mid love for the preacher, he began in earnest to seek 
1^ thnt mdical conversion luid renewal, the nature of which 
bwl b««n to clearly exhibited to him. I 

This new birth, however, wad not to be for Shcpurd, as it v 
I|ipau9 In b<? ill some cases, a speedy or an easy work. Many 
jma* from a stale of sin and coni 1cm nation to tho light, liberty, 
ini) hope uf llie children of God, in such n way that their 
irlu^ ex[ierience in relation to this change may be expressed in 
he irurdi of the blind man whom the .Sa\'iour suddenly luid 
tf n miisculuus touch restored lo sight — "Whereas I was 
blind, now I »ee." But Shepard's conviction of sin had been 
BMwdlogly pungent and distressing, and his progress lo a state 
F nctmciliatiuD and pence with Ood was rough, protracted, and 
tiBfnL Uo was beset with fi;ars of death and " the terrors 
r Ood's wrath." In tii- daily mfdiliiiion, "constantly every 


evening before supper," he found the Lord ever teaching 
faim eoraelhing concerning himself, or ibe divine law, or the 
vanity of the world, which he never aaw before, and which 
'filled him with perplexity and overwhelming aolieilude. He 
was also assaulted by sharp i«mpiations. At one time he felt 
" a depth of atheism and unbelief in the main malters of sal- 
vation," — whether the Scriptures were the word of God, — 
whether Christ was the Messiah, — whether there was a God. 
At another time he " felt all manner of temptations lo sU 
kinds of religions, not knowing which lo chooae." At last he 
heard of Griodleton, and was in danger of falling iolo Fcr- 
fcctioniein, Faroilism, Antinomianism, or whatever that system 
was called which ^lerwards made such havoc in the infant 
churches of New England. He did not really adopt or believe 
any of the absurd doctrines of the Familiels, hut only went so 
far in these " miserable fluctunlions and straits of his soul " 
as to question " whether that glorious state of perfection might 
not be the truth," and whether old Mr. Rogers's " Seven Trea- 
tises," and the " Practice of Christianity," — books which were 
then esteemed as containing very sound theology, — " might not 
be legal," and these writers "- legal men ; " a singular hallucina- 
tion, from which he was soon delivered by reading in one of the 
Familist books the astounding doctrine, that a Christian is so 
swallowed up in the spirit, "- that what action soever the spirit 
moves him lo commit, suppose adultery, he may do it, and it is 
DO sin to hun." This passage, like an overdose of poison, 
operated exactly contrary to its nature and design. Tempted as 
he was to "all kinds of religion," he could not digest this doc- 
trine of devils; and the horrible absurdity of the proposition 
awakened in him an intense abhorrence of the whole system to 
which it belonged, which in after years, and in more critical times, 
' rendered him a most determined and successful opposer of An- 
tinomianism, as we shall see in the progress of this biagni|>hy. 
' In the mean time, the other temptations by which he was led 
(o doubt the genuineness of Christ's miracles, and, in short, the 
troth of divine revelation, continued with unabated, if not with 


increasing, severity ; so ihst, at IfUt, Laving questioned whether 
Christ (lid not cast out devils by Beelzebub, he conceived the 
dreadful idea that he had committed the unpardonable sio, bh^^,--^ 
was BbandoDed to hopeless apostasy and destruction. And now, 
the terrors of God began to break in, like floods of fire," into 
kis eouL He saw, as he then thought, in these rebellious 
double, and in this chaotic darkness of mind, the fruits of " God's 
CKriiat reprobation," He thouglit of God as "a consuming liru 
erlusiing burning," and liirostif as a " poor prisoner, 
led to liial tire." And these thoughts of eternal reprobation 
and lurmunt ao distressed tiim, especially '' at one IJiue, upon a 
Sabbath day, at evening," that be became well nigh distracted, . 
«nd was strongly leinpled, like Judas, to anticipate his doom, 
d, by suicide, hurry to his own place. 

During eight dark and dismal months, these ■' fiery darts of 
Llan " were iocossanlly burled at his peace, and there seemed A 
lo be Qo help tor his poor soul in Gud or man ; for he was afrtiid 
«f God, and was ashamed to speak of these things to any ex- 
fnicDoed Christian. Three things, according lo Luther, are /■ 
••ccsmry lo form a theologion — namely, study, prayer, and^ 
tcmptalioii. And doubtless bUepurd's gloomy passage through 
" iloagh of despond " was necessary lo );ive him a clear and 
iMB aflecting view of bis misery and helplessness as a sinner ; 
fix more linnly in his mind those doctrines which he was sub- 
juontly to preach ; lo make liim humble under the honor 
|h*t awaited him, and lo fit him to apply tjic promises of tlie 
judiciously to distressed oousciences. Like Luther, he 
t llie true divinity by being "hunted into the Bible" and 
,|p the llironc of grace ; and he was eminently fitted to sympa- 
'Use with the aflticied, by those horrible temptations which 
bncMl broke bis spirit and drove him to despair. At ibe same 
bie, hi* peculiar experience, both in his descent into these 
deplfaf of Satan," and in the manner of his deliverance from •/ 
bem, leuded to give to his preaching aitd writings, that " legal " 
ludi there will be occasion to speak of more piulic- 
ilarljr bareafter. 

VOL. I. c 


His conflicia were now drawing to a close, and ligUl was about 
lo dispel the liorror of that darkness in which his mind had hetn 
BO long shrouded. When he was at the worst, not knowing what 
(o do, and not daring lo disdose hia feelings lo any person, it 
DFcurred to him that he should do as Christ did in his agony. 
"'The Saviour prayed eameslly, and an angel came dona to com- 
fort him ; and this seemed to he the only way of relief. Shut 
up to this, he fell down in agonizing supplication, and " being in 
prayer, 1 saw myself so unholy, and God so holy, that ray spirit 
began to sink ; yet the Lord recovered me, and poured out a 
spirit of prayer upon mc for free mercy and pity ; and in the 
conclusion of the prayer, I found the Lord helping me to see 
my unworthiness of any mercy, and lo leave myself with him, to 
do with me what he would. And then, and never till then, I 
found rest; and so my heart was humbled, nntf I went with a 
staid heart to supper late that nighl, and so rested here, and 
the terrors of the Lord began to assuage sweetly." 

To a friend who afterwards inquired of him how the atheist- 
ical thoughts which had torraenied him were removed, he thus 
writes : " The Lord awakened me, and bid me beware lest an 
old sore break out again. And this I found, llmt strength of 
reason, would commonly convince my understanding that there 
was a God ; hut I felt it utterly insufficient lo persuade my will 
of il, unless it was by lits, when, as 1 thought, God's Spirit moved 
upon the chaos of thene horrible thoughts ; and lliis, I Ihink, will 
be found a truth. I did groan under the bondage of Ihose un- 
believing thoughts, looking up and sighing to the Lord, that if 
he were as his works and word declared him to be, he would 
please to reveal himself by his own beams, and persuade my 
heart, by his own Spirit, of his essence and being, which, if he 
would do, I should at^count it the greatest mercy that ever he 
showed me. And, after grievous and heavy perplexities, when 
I was by them almost forced to make on end of myself and 
sinful life, and to be my own executioner, the Lord came be- 
tween the bridge and the water, and set me, out of anguish of 
apirit, to pray unto him for light in the midst of so great dark- 


In wbich time, he revealed himself, manifested his love, 
Biillcd all ihoae raging thoughts, io that, though I could not read 
the Scripture without blasphemous [houghtit ticfore, now I san a 
glory, n majesty, a mystery, a depth in it, wbich fully persuaded; 
and which light — I desire to speuk it to ihe glory of bis free 
graee, seeing you uUl me to it ^ — -is not wholly put out, but 
mnains. while I desire to walk closely with him, unto this day. 
Aud thus the Lord opened my eyes, and eured me of my mis- 
ery i and if any such base thoughts come (like beggars to my 
d<x>r) to my mind, and put these si-ruples to me, I used to send 
them away with this answer: Why should 1 question that truth 
which I have both known and seen ? " * i 

To the period referred to in this extract the conversion of Mr. 
Shepard must be assigned i but he did not at once obtain full 
IKaurauce and a settled peace. The firm earth upon which lie 

at length landed seemed to heave under him like the stormy 

where he had been so long tossed, and, for a while, he walked 
unsteadily and with fear. When his distracting doubts and 
dreadful apprehensions of God's wrath were gone, he aiill felt 
bit on worthiness, his bondage to self and the world, hia unfltneatt 
for Any good work, and was oppressed with the dread of losing 
what God had already wrought in him. Bui walking, on one 
OCouion, in the fielda, '' the Lord dropped this meditation " into 
lua mind, with a distinctness and force which made it appear 

ist like an address: " Be not discouraged because iliou art eo 
Tile, but mnke tliis double use of it : flr^t, loathe thyself the more ; 
•Hondly, feel a greater need, and put a grenicr price, upon 
Jctuii Christ, who only can redeem tliee from uU sin." This 
tboaght greatly encouraged him, and he wos thus enabled to 
* bi»t Smai) with hia own weapons." 

Hi« outward life was now wliotly changed. He abstained 
hm all appearance of evil. He no longer associated with the y( 
py and the l^boughtlesa ; and be felt it to he his duly, not only to 

bit an example of holy living, but to labor in all apprt^riata 

• Beloct Cmdi It«iolre<I, pp n, 45, 

(/ways for the conversion of his rdlow-stu dents. So much progresa 
he bad made without anj direct assistance from hnman instruct- 
ora, and witliout ol)taining any a<»urance of his pardon and 
acceptance with God. He had been working out his salvation 
with fear and trembling, alone ; and although his face was 
toward Zton, and his feet in the tray of the divine precepts, he 
needed, like Apollos, that some one should expound unio him 
the way of God more perfectly, and (o lead him lo take those 
views of Christ, and of his redemptive work, which were neces- 
sary lo a cheerful hope, and an appropriation of the promises of 

At this stage of his experience, and in this state of mind. Dr. 
Preston providentially preached a sermon upon 1 Cor. i. 30 : 
" But of him are ye in Christ Jesus, who of God is made unto us 
, wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctifieatiDn, and redemption ; " 
^ in which he showed that there is in Christ an ample supply 
for all our spiritual wants, and that this treasure is designed for 
the benefit of all Christians. " And when he had opened how 
oil the good, all the redemption I had, was from Jesus Christ, I 
did then begin to prize him, and he became very sweet to me," 
Although he had often heard Christ freely offered by minisiera 
before, if men would receive him as their Lord and Soviour, yel 
he had found his heart " ever unwilling to accept of Christ upon 
those terms." But now Chriat became precious to his soul, and 
he fotind it easy to comply with the conditions upon which all the 
blessings of redemption were promised. 

He was not, however, entirely free from all fears and doubts. 
But he found the Lord constantly " revealing free mercy," and 
^' showing htm that all his ability to believe in Christ, and to 
''. accept of him, was in this grace of God. He saw that Christ 
obeyed the law, not on his own account, but to work out and 
bring in "everlasting righteousness" for poor sinners who had 
none of their own — a righteousness which is sufficient to "jus- 
tify the ungodly who believeth in Jeaus." He saw, also, that 
"to as many as received him, to them gaTe^ie power to becoma 
the sons of God," and he tell that the Lord had given him "a 


I heart lo receive Christ with n naked haod." And so, after 
[ maiy conflicts and quesliooing^, lie obtained that peace of God 
\ which passetb knowledge, and commenceil lliat lite of faith, 
y wbicli, as ihe shining light, ehone brighter and brighter onto the 
perfect day. 

Altbougli these religious exercises must have occupied a con- 
■iderable ponion of his time, and bave rendered all human learn- 
ing and worldly honor compnrntiirely worthless, yet he seems to 
have maintained a highly respectable standing in college ; and 
bAct the decided change which has been described took place, 
and religion began to i^hed its light and peace upon his soul, a 
npid development of his intellectual powers became evident. V^ 
There is nothing that gives such elevation, strength, and enlarge- 
ment to the mind as the practical reception of the word of God 
I Bnder the influence of the Holy Spirit. " The fear of the Lord 
I la the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge of the holy is 
I tuiderstanding." Shc;iard, in common with many others, felt the 
f invigamting effect of that heavenly knowledge ; and in after 
r year*, when young men consulted him with rcupect to their 
f Hudies, he waa accustomed to refer to this influence of religion 
I niKHi his own mind, and to advise them lo spi'nd a considerable 
I portion of their time in communing with their own hearts and 
I vith God, a practice wliich he had found so benclicial in all his 
I intellcidual efforts. Thus, at pence wilfa God, — with a definiin^ 
I object of pursuit before him, — and in the diligent application of 
I blmwlf to all his studies, — be continued through the remainder 
I of hi« college life. He took his bachelor's degree in 1623 — )^ 
I not br from the lime, us we should judge, when he experienced 
I' Ihe radical change in his religious feelings aliove described ; and . 
1 fa ] 623, when he had finished his course of study, he led college, I 
I with a high reputation for schohirshtp, and with the usual honors 
mat tfao nmrerBity. 


Mr. Shepird goes to Mr. Wfld'a.— Skvlch of Eogliih ecclesiutical hi«- 
tory, — Slate of England ni Uic ictesaion of HeiiTy VIII, — Docirines of 
the WaldensM. — Wickliff. — Ronanatranre of ihc foltowera of Wiot- 
liff. — Separation of ilio Engliih cburch from lt«ma. — Henry VIII. be- 
comes head oF tlie ctanrrh. — Act of auprcmacy. — Opinions of ihi! peo- 
ple. — Edward VI, — Origin of the Liturgy. — Mary and EtizalR^iti. — 
Staid of the nation. — Act of uniformity. — Court of High Commission. 
— Suhncripiion enforced. — Era of nonconformity and separation. — 
Penalty for absunce from public worship. — Distinction bctrreen Xon- 
conformista and Brownists. — Nature of ichiiui. 

Mr. Shepard became master of oris in the juar 1<)27. 
About e'lx monllia before taking his degree, he went to reside in 
the fiimily of Thomas Weld, (then of Tarling, in the county of 
Essex, and afterwards ordained the first minister of the church 
in Koxbury,) wliere he reeeived much aid in his theological 
studies, and encouragement in his Christian course. Here he 
became' scquaiated witli Thomas Hooker, who about thut lirau 
was appointed a lecturer at Chelmsford, in Ksseji, from whose 
able and discriminating miniittry he derived great ndvaniage. 
Whiifb cngagi^d in his studies and preparaiioo at Tarling, he be- 
came " very solicitous what would Income of him," when he had 
taken his master's degree ; for then his " timu and portion would 
be spent," and he would be left without resources, and wilh small 
hope of finding any employment for which he vaa fitted. 

The religious condition of England, at that time, was rery 
dark and perplexed ; and the prospects of pious young men, 
who, like Thomas Shepard, desired to serve God and their gen- 
eration in the gospel ministry, weie exceedingly discouraging. 
Allhough the picture of those times has been ol'ien drawn, and 
the circumstances which compelled our fathers lo abandon, not 
only the church in which ihey had been educated, but the coun- 
try that gave them birth, have been often and eloquently de- 
■crib«d, yet it may not bs amisi to give, iu this pluue, a bri«f 


■ketch of Uie liislor; of that gloomj' period, Ihat our youthful 
rMden may clearly underaland what it was that made Mr. 
Shepard ao " eoliciioua whai should become of hira." and why he 
eould not devote liis talenia aiid pieiy to the work of the minis- 
try in Protestant Eogltind. . 

At the beginning of the reign of IlenEyJtm» who ascended ^^ 
|be throne of England in the year IJji;>9,_jhe English church 
■ m»» a branch of that Pft fiS l M'T^fhy which had extended its 
pover over the civilized world, and like the great red dragon 
tt the Apocalypse, had swept away a. large port of the itars of 
kaven, and cast them to the earth, rendering the skies black, 
and the night hideous. During the long and tyrannical reign 
■tt that apostate cliurch. however, there were a few faithful 
for the truth who testilied and were persecuted, tike 
V^tipos, even in the region where " Satan's seat " was. In the 
|V>Ileys of the Alps, the WaUlenscs, uncorrupted by the errors 
unawed hy the power of Rome, retained the doctrines and 
the dtBciptine of the primitive church. The history of 
people is, indeed, somewhat obscure ; but from their own 
jSecIantioDS, corrabomted by the confessions of some of their 
werM enemies it afipears liiglily probable that they could trace 
the origin of their churches back to the age of the apostles, and 
thai their religious doctrine? and practices were gubstantiully 
tboM which long afterwards were adopted and maintained by 
tlie EiigUnh PuriianH. They rejected the books of the Apoo 
Ijftha from the eacred unnoo. They kept the Subbaih very 
Mriedy. They were extremely careful of the religious educa- 
of their children. They denied the supremacy of the pope, 
Uwfuhiesa of indulgences, auricular confession, prayers for 
the dead, transubstantiation, invocation of saints, and the worship 
c/ the Virgin &Iary. They abhorred the mass, the doctrine of 
porgalory, and, in short, nil the unscriptural ceremonies, super- 
Miiioti*. and abominations of the Papacy. They committed the 
putoral care of tlieir churches to ministers ireely chosen by 
^mMlves, who were expected, in conformity to the apostolic 
b« «xampl«i lo thfl finek, in werd. in iKinTar«i.ti*«. 



in faitli, in purity, in charity. Their whole nim eeems to have 
beeu to realize in their form of ecclesiastical govei'nment, and 
in the lives both of tlio clergy and of the people, that eaiiclity 
and godly simplicity which characterized the CDmm en cement of 
the church, and which nere so beautifully exhibited in Ihe pre- 
I cepte and example of Jesus Christ.* 
., Thus, three hundred years before the reformation, we find a 
company of sturdy reformers, who hod never bowed the knee to 
Baal, — a remnant according to the election of grace, — who 
prepared the way and furnished the means for the final orcr- 
throw of " that man of sin," that " son of perdition," who 
" exalteth himself above all that is called God, or that is wor- 
shipped." They were the Prolestanta of the twelfth century, 
and were called Cafkari, pnrS, mnwcmiiit of the professeJ^pii- 
rity of their doctrines and life, just as our fathers were after- 
wards in scorn styled Puritani, for their opposition to the errors 
and corruptions of their times. 

The reformation, which many erroneously suppose to have 
commenced in the sixteenth century, was nothing more than (he 
rejection of doctrines and practices which men, in the course 
of ages, had ignorantly or wickedly added lo the religion of 
Christ. And this work was commenced by the faithful servants 
of God as soon as the evil began. The great Head of the 
church had never left himself without a few witnesses, at least, 
lo testify against the errors that were constantly mingling with 
his trulh. The Romanists ask, wiih an air of triumph, " Where 
was your religion before Luther's reformation ? " We answer, 
that in the darkest times of the antichristian apostasy, the true 
church, and the doctrines which Luther, and Calvin, and our 
fathers preached, were found among the Waldenses, three hun- 
dred years before the time of Luther ; and they were hut the 
BQCceSBors and representalives of still earlier reformers, who 
protested, with what strength (h ey had, against tlie encroach- 
ments of the " man of sin." It was from these people that the 

* Moshcim, EccL Uiit. cent. IS, cb. 13. 


ldo<-tri[ics of tlie reformation were dibseminated in England and 

roB ihc mntioent : and had it not lieen for them, perhaps neither 

ITicklifT, in the fourteenth eeniury, nor Luilier, in the sixteenth, 

mid have appeared as reformers. During the fierce persecu- 

p la which they were constantly exposed, in the thirteenth 

jf frtHD the Papal church, some of them fled into Germa- 

^; -iridic others, turning to the west, found refuge in England. 

tajmond Lollard, one of ihe leading men among the Waldenses, 

proronlgalcd their doctrines in llie land of our fathers, where 

tfaej* were allied " Lollard* ; " and where, from the fact that, so 

I fate as the year l(il9, there was a lower standing in London, 
•vriiich, in consequence of lis a^e ae a place of confinement for 
-tixMe who professed iheir religion, uas called " The Lollard's 
Tower," it would eeem that they did not wholly escape the 
Malice of that antichristian power whieh consumed their fathers 
and brethren, as hcr«tice, in Iinty. 
The doctrines held by the Waldenses were received and 
tanght by John Wickliff, the earliest of the English reformers. 
Wickliff waj born about the year 1324. He was educated at 
Qaeen's College, Oxford, in which he was afterwards professor 
of divinity, and was, for a time, minister of Lutlerworlli, in the 
4iooeiW of Lincoln. He was a profound scholar, and an eloquent 
prescher. Though born and educated amidst all the darkness 
^uf Pojwry, be preached, «ubetanliallyi the same doctrines which 
^V^er* aAcrwards munloined by the Puritans ; and one hundred 
^Kad ibirty years before the reformation, vindicated those great 
^Kpindpka, which, under the preaching of Luther, Calvin, and 
^BAen, enlightened the world, and produced that movement to- 
^Hjvrd TCHgioos and civil liberty which must evenlually be enjoyed 
hf all nalionf. He wrote nearly two hundred volumes ; but hia 
pcaiest work was the translation of the New Testament inlD-4 
■ WkklLff died in 1364. After his death, the university pub- 
^HblMd the following testimony concerning him : " That from his 
^Pyottth to the time of his death, his conversation was so praise- 
worthy, that there never wao any spot or suspicion reported of 


it i that in hia rending and pren<^liing be behaved like & stool 
and valiant champion of tbe fiiitli, and ibiit be bad nritlen 
in logic, pbilosopby, divinily, morality, and llie arts, without 
an equal." Without, however, supposing that WieklifF was 
either immaculate in life, or absolutely free frum ibeologicttl 
errors, we may regard liim as a bold defender of funda- 
menlal truths, and the " morning star " of the reformation iu 

( In tbe year 1 425, after ho had been dead more than forty 
years, the Council of Constance ordered all his works to be col- 
lected and burnt, together wiih bis bones. This diabolical order 
was executed by Richard Fleming, Bishop of Idncoln, who 
caused the remains of llie excommunicated reformer to be dug 
up, burnt, and the ashes to be thrown into a brook. " Thu?," 
says Fuller, " this brook hath conveyed bis ashes into Avon, 
Avon into Severn, Severn into the Narrow Seas ; tbey into 
the main ocean. And thus tbe ashes of Wickliff are tlie em- 
blem of liis doctrine, which is now disseminated all the world 
over." • The number of his disciples increased so greatly 
after his death, that new and more severe laws were made 
against heretics, in the iKipe — vain as ail sucb hopes mnsl be — 
that force would prevent the spread of truth, and the dun- 
geon and the stake put an end to the cflbrts of Christians to 
rescue the people from ihe ihralldom of error. Fox, the_ mar- 
lyrologist, referring to the posthumous persecution of Wickliff, 
remarks, " that as there is ni> counsel against tbe Lord, so there 
is no keeping down truth, but it will spring and come out of dust 
and ashes, as appeared in this man. For tbey di^ed up bis 
body, burnt bis hones, and drowned bis ashes ; yet the word of 
God and irutb of bis doctrine, with tbe fruit and success of bis 
labors, they could not burn, and they remain, for the most part, 
to this day." t 
About eight years after Wickliff's death, his foUowers pre- 
; eented a remonstrance to the English Parliament, in which they 

• Church History,!). JT. p. 171. 

t AcU sad Monutncnu, i. 


•peak of Romanism just as Sbepard ilid, two hundred and tillj 
yean later. Tliey say that when the chureh of England began 
lo mbmaDage faer temporalities, ia conrormity to ihe precedent 
rf Some, faith, hope, and charily began lo take leave of her 
awnmuDion; ihal the English prieslhood, derived from Rome, 
and pretending lo a power superior tc angels, is not Ihe priesthood 
vhich Christ settled upon his apo»Lles; that the enjoining celiba- 
Kj upon the clergy was the occasion of scandalous irregulari- 
ties in the church ; that the pretended miracle of transubstanti- 
■ioo runs the great part of Christendom upon idolatry ; that 
Exorcisms and bene die I ion f!, pronounced over bread and oil, wax. 
incense, over the stones of the altar, the holy vestments, tha 
ikiler, the ctoas, and the pilgrim's staff*, have mare of necro- 
■Mncy than of religion in.ihem ; that the union of the offices of 
f^nce and bishop, prelate and scculnr judge, in the same person, 
■td making the rector of a parish a civil officer, is a plain mis> 
^■nageroenl,andputsakingdomo<it of ihe right way ; that pray- 
er made fiir the dvad is a wrong ground for charity and religious 
ndowments, and therefore all the charities of England stand 
iqmn a wrong foundation ; that pilgrimages, prayers, and offcr- 
iag*, made to images and crosses, have nothing of charity in 
ibem, anil are near of kin to idolatry ; that auricular confession 
aakes the priests proud, and lets them into the secrets of the 
gives opportunity for intrigues, and that this, us well as 
ine of indulgences, is attended with scandahius eonse- 
that the vow of single life, undertaken by women in 
cliurch of En^and, is the occasion of horrible disorders.* 
»f were sound doctrines, and well put to the reason and con- 
■ of the Parliament; hut tliey wrought no change, and 
red it BO lafer to preairh or praotice ihem. Persecution 
against the Lollards. — as all who dei^ired a reformation / 
t church were now culled, — under Henry V. ; but the 
tlwy were persecuted, the more tliey increased, and they 
tits whole of England wilb good seed, which, uourished 

■ Collier, £ci.'l. [lut. i. cent. It. 


by the blood of ibe roarij-rs, bus continued to bnug forth good 
fruit to this day. 

Tlie Srs( rupture between the English church and the FajMi) 
hierarchy, and the commencement of what has been called the 
reformation in England, were occasioned, not by a change of 
reUgious opinions either in the ruHag powers, or the great mass 
/of the people, but by causes purely aelfisb and worldly. Ilenry 
VIII., a man uol only destitute of all personal religion, but 
possessed of all the vile and abominable passions which can de- 
grade humanity, wished toobiaiii from the pope a divorce from hia 
queeu, Katharine, that he might, with the sanction of the churcli, 
marry Anne Boleyn, who had been an attendant upon the queen. 
The ground which be assigned for this divorce was so absurd that 
even the pope, unscxupulous as be was in respect to other mat- 
ters, and strongly as he was inclined to grant the request of htd 
powerful subject, could not be prevailed upon to sanction it. 
Whereupon Heary, not to be defeated in his cruel purpose, 
resolved to make himself the supreme head of the English 

His first act of retaliation upon the pope was a proclamation, 
in which all persons were forbidden to purchase any thing from 
Rome, under the severest penalties. In 1534, being the tweuty- 
gixlb year of his reign, the iict. of supremacy, which took from iho 
pope all authority and power over the church in England, and 
gave to the king ail aulliority whatever in ecclesiastical affairs, 
was passed by the Parliament. This act declares that " the king, 
his heirs, and successors, kings of England, shall be taken, ac- 
cepted, and reputed the only Supkeue Head of the churub of 
England; and shall have and enjoy, annexed and united to the 
imperial crown of this realm, as well tiie title and style thereof, 
US lUl the honors, immunities proHts, and commodities, to the 
SuPREiiK Head of the church belonging ; and shall have full 
power and authority to visit, repress, redress, and amend all 
BDeh errors, heresies, abuses, contempts, and enormities, whatso- 
ever they be, which, by any manner of spiritual authority or 
jariediution, ought or uwy be lawfully reformed, repressed. 



r .ordered, redressed, connsc-led, rcatrftincd, or ameoded, most to tha 

t of Almighty God, and increase of virtue in Christ's 

B,aiid for ibe conservation of peace, udiI}-, and tranquillity 

t Ralm, mny usage, cuslora, foreign law, foreign authority, 

ription, or any thing or tilings, lo the contrary Dotwith- 

R act wag the comnieacement of what has beeii called tliel/ 
I'-** Reformaiioa " in Knglimd. But it was not such an act as the 
the ehurch demanded. It was conecived in sin, and 
Might fortli in iniquily. It g&ve no relief to burdened con- 

ir frreduni to the souk tliat were crying from under ^ 
■(Ik altar. It made no change in doctrine, nor breathed any new v 
i.Sfe iiilo tlie dead formalilres of the old religion. Il eitnply 
f tnuisfcrrcd tlie church, like a flock of sUeeg, from a rnpacioua 
Kt|ie to B brutal nod licentious king : and gave to a civil, instead k 
n cccksiastical tyrant, the sole power of reforming abuses, 
:»ira, and errors, vrilhoul the slighleal regard to tlie rights of 
I conwience. or the laws of .Teaus Christ. It was an act which, 
in banisliing the pope, banished the King of Zion from his ap- 
pnifiriate douinin, and entlironed one who might be called literal- 
ly, a ** moH of tin," in the church, — for he was one of ibe most 
widted of men, — autborixing him, as God, to sit in the temple, 
and to untrp llur antUorily of God. Il was continually forlilied. 
and its provisions extended, by subsequent acts of Parliament. 
In tbe tbifty-sevenlh year of this reign, a law was pushed which 
declares " that arebhishups, bbhops, archdeacons, and others, 
bale no manner of juriadiction ecelesiustieal. but by. under, and 
from Ibe king*s aulhority, tlie only undoubted supreme head of' 
Uw cbare]i of England, tu whom, by Holy Scripture, all author- 
ity and power is wholly given to bear and delerioine all man- 
ner of aitics wbalsoever. and to'correci all manner of hereiJes, 
errors. tUws, and sins whatever; and to all such persons as bis 
iMuuty sball appoint tbereuiilo." * Under this law diancelors, 

• Meal. tli>t Purii. il. ch. I. 
ne, OiN. Eng., A. Si. 1 13*. 

Peirce, VindifUkiloD of J)luenUi*, pp. T-4. 


oommissioners, and other officers, nerer heard of in ibe primitive 
^ church, were appointed ; and, to eecularize die church as eftect- 
usMy as possible, the king, in the exereiae of his unlimited power, 
committed all the most important ecclesiastical matters to lajmen. 
This exorbitant power in the j-Htliticol liead of the church was 
confirmed in the reign of Edward VI., of Queen Elizabeth, of 
James I., and of Charles II. ; and until the reign of William 
and Mary, all clergymen were conij>elled lo aeknonledge it in 
the oath of supremacy — an oath which transferred their alle- 
\ giance, as Christians, from GLrist to the King of England, and 
made them traitors to the cause which ail true r' ' — 

bound by a more solemn and stringent oath to defend at all 

Although the church of England was thus effectually sepa- 
rated from the church of Rome, and emancipated from the 
authority of the pope, the gireat body of the inferior clergy, 
and of the people, countenanced and encouraged by many lead- 
ing men both in the church and stale, adJiered firmly to the 
old opinions and practices ; and althougli, during the reign of 
this capricious and cruel tyrant, there was much contiacation 
of church properly, and persecution of Roman Catholics, there 
was but very little reformation from the worst corruptions of 
Popery. Uow could the church be purified by such a beaat 
Bs Henry VIII., atid by time-serring men like Crannier, who 
were always ready to become the toob of a power that neither 
fWed God nor regarded man? 

Edward VI., a youth of very different disposition and tem- 
per from his father, — of visible piety even, — ascended the 
throne in 1547. Under his reign some change for the better 
was effected in the condition of the oppressed and suffering 
uhurch. Two of the statutes against the Lollards, and several 
\J oppressive Popish laws, were repealed, and others, more favora- 

Lble to truth and liberty, enacted by the Parliament whicli as- 
sembled soon after the accession of the young king. A com- 
mittee of divines was appointed to examine and reform the 
worship of the church, wlio, finding the clergy generally incai)a- 


ble ©r composing eitber sermons or proyera, set forth & bool^^ 
of Homilies, and a Liturgy Tor their use. Tliis change in itie 

wonhip of ibe cliurch was tlie foundation of that umfarmitjt 

iriiidi was iub«equentty established by the government, and 
exaclcl writb sucb unsparing rigor by thow in power, that 
many of lUe most pious and useful ministers in England, like 
Shepard and his asiiociates, who had conscit-'ntious sirruples 
respecting the propiiely of some of these olRees, were obliged to 
■bondati the ministry, or, like the woman of the Revelation, tiee 
into the wilderness, where God had prepared a place for them. 
- Nothing can be more certain than that, in the first and purest \ 
Wge of the church, there was no such tiling as a uniform liturgy, I 
vhich all worshipers were oUigrd to use and conform to. Very / 
ftw forms appear lo have been used for three hundred years, 
•nd those were not impotrd upon the people by ecclesiastical or J 
ciTil power. In those times Christian woi^sbip coiiaialed of 
hymns, — prayers, — (which, as Terlullian says, were offered 
line muttitore, quia de pedort, without a prompter, because they 
aunt from the heart,) — the reading of the Scriptures, — and 
the celcbralioa of the Lord's supper. It was not until the fourth^^ 
aeniury that set forms were introduced, and ministers were for- 
bidden to use any prayers in the churches except such as were 
iposed by able men, or approved by the synods ; and even 
ionovation, as Shepard remnrks, grew out of the g ross and 

iporance of the ministry in those contentious and ' 
ical times, and was enforced in order to prevent the scan- 
ts which were common in churches where the pastors 
wvn incapable of preaching or praying lo the edification of the 

By degrees, however, tlie worship of the church, which, from 
I tte beginning, had been very simple, notwillistandiug the forms 
P-flurf hod from lime (o time been introduced, begnn, as Burnet 
retnarks, to be thought too naked, unless " put under more artifi- 
cial rules, and dressed up with much ceremony ; " and therefore 
Tvious rights and ceremonies, better fitted to please the eye v 

anti strike (he imagination llian to promote the gqtily eiliCyuig 
of the worshiper, were coniimmlly nddeii. Still there was no 
universal uniformity of worsbip. Every bishop adopted that 
form which he thought best nilapted to the liiaea and to the tem- 
per of hla own people. And this diversity continued until the 
Biebop of Rome, among other acta of usurpation, pretended 
that in belonged to the mother church to furnish a model of 
doctrine and of worship, to which all the eliurches iu Christendom 
ought to conform. But even under the dominion of the pope, 
there was great diversity in the forms of worship, and aluolutf 
jum/ormitj/ was never effected until it was foi-ced upon the 
English church after its separation from Rome. 

The committee of divines who prepared the English Litur- 
gy under Ektward VI. found a great variety of forms, and 
much diversity in respect to worship, existing in the ehurch. 
In the south of England there was the Liturgy of Sarum ; in the 
north, th»t of the Duke of York ; in South Wales, that of 
Hereford ; in North Wales, tbat of Bangor ; in the diocese of 
Lincoln, one which was peculiar to that see. The committee 
collected all these offices, — this "copper counterfeit coin," — 
as Shepard calla it, — "of a well-grown ADlichrisI, whereby he 
cheated the churches when he stole away the golden legacy 
of Christ," — with the design of forming out of them a new 
Liturgy, which should be used in all jiarts of the country, an<l 
by every congregation. They thought that entire uniformity, 
J both in doctrine and worship, was necessary to the purity and 
peace of the church ; and were dcleriuined that the diversity 
which had been tolerated in the darkest times of Popery should 
no longer be allowed in Protestant England. They attempted 
what was at once unreasonable, unnecessary, and impracticable ; 
and forged fetters for the people, which, if they did not crush 
the life of devotion out of the church, would one day be hurst 
asunder with violence and universal tumult. Had they drawn 
up various forms for those whose feeble piety needed assistance, 
And letl something to the judgment, disi 


I pf ibose who had begnn to " breathe the pure air of the Holy 
riptures," the churuh might have been united, and New Eng- 
I land remained for some centuries longer in the possesaion of 
Lib origioal infaabilanta. 

: fir^t Borviee book, or Liturgy of Edward VT., was 
Bptbered from the Popish Breviary, Itituul, and Missal, vrith 
■ bat slight alterations br improvements. They did not, says 
Surnet, mend every tiling (hat re<]uired it, but left the office 
t»f the mass as it was, only adding to it that which made it ft 
GominiinioD. While many of the Romteh superstitions were 
OffliUed, eome were retained ; the committee going " as far as 
they coald in reforming the church," and hoping "that they 
who ahould come after would, as Ihey might, do more." * They 
fell, honeslly, no doubt, that it was a great advantage to the 
people to hear prayers io their native language, rather than in 
an unknown langae. They wished Io have the people united; 
And aimed to convert Papists to the English church by a form 
of worship which should differ as little as possible from that to 
which they had been accustomed. Those who desired a real 
teformalion did all that they could ; and those who were Papists 

were ssdafied to have a Liturgy which made do funda- y" 
snUl ehange. Among other things, the vestments in whiclr 
B Roniah priests officiated were retained, against the judgment 
y pious persons, who thought that these surplices, copes, 
i other rags and symbols of Popery, should be confiued to the 
«'■ wardrobe. It was urged that these garments belonged 
y of the mass, and hod been used to set it off with 
1 show, and ought not, llicrefore, to be used in a 
ssing to be apostoUcoL But to this the reformera 
I, tliat the priest's garments, under the Mosaic dispensa- 
e white, and tbis seemed to be a fit emblem of the punty 
jncy becoming priests under the gospel. Moreover, it 
1 that the clergy were extremely poor, and could not 
4reM themselves decently ; and as'the people, vibrating 

• Frebc* 10 tb< Lilursi' ofEdirknl VI. 


from the extreme of blind dubmis^on to the clergj, were inclined 
to despine tliem, and lo make liglit of their sacred functions, if 
they were to otflciate in their own garments they would bring 
the divine offices into contempt. These considerations were 
deemed conclusive, and ea it was resolved that the use of the 
Popish vestmenls should be continued, and made obligatory upon 
all officiating clergymen.* 

A more thorough reformation of the church — a reformation 
which should leave none of the vain pomp and foolirth pageant- 
ry of Romanism beliind — a reformation which should make 
all the rites, ceremonies, and doctrines of the church conform- 
able to the rules laid down, by C'hriat and his apnailes, and 
Jiuffer nothing lo be required of men but what was clearly 
auctioned by the aulhorily of God'a word — was needed ; and 
by many, even by Edward himself, greatly desired. And had 
those in power followed the light of the Scriptures, which was 
then beginning to shine upon the church, purging out the 
old leaven of Popery, Rnd every thing in doctrine or worship 
which they themselves acknowledged was unscriptural, there 
would have been no dissent except among the advocates of 
an antichristian hierarchy. But, as Edward, in his vain efforts 
to realise bis idea of a reformation, sadly complained, those 
bishops who ought to carry forward this work, "some for Papis- 
try, some for ignorance, some for age, some for their ill name, 
some for all these," were men " unable lo execute discipline," 
and it was tiierefore " a thing unmeet for them to do." t 

It was lamentably true, as Mrs. Hutchinson, in her interest- 
ing Memoirs of her huebaui], finely remarks, " that when the 
dawn of the gospel began lo break upon England, at^er the 
dark night of the Papacy, the morning was more cloudy there 
than in other places, by reason of the state interest which 
was mixing and working itself into the inlerests of religion, 
and which, in the end, quite wrought it out. For Henry 

• Bamet, Hist. Reform- iJ- ^X T8 

t Neule, Hiat. Pnrit. i. 53. BuraEt, ULsL Reform, ii. B9, 427. 

OF TiiouAs SHEPAWD. xliii 

"VlII-, wbo by hia royal Huthorily cast out ihe pope, did not 
ml ilmi tlie people of the Innd alioiild liave any ense of oppres- 
■ion, but only rhange their foreign yoke for homebred fetter^i, 
'dividiog tbe pope's spoils between himself and his bishops, 
'«ho cared not for their father at Kome. so long as Ihey enjoyed 
bwr patrimony and iheir honore at home, under another bend, 
Under tlie rpign of Mary, the sister of Eiiward, the English' 
^uivh reverted lo Popery; and Proteatnnia, indiacrimiuiloly, 
ttnfferMi the most severe and unrelenting pemecutioo. 

Oh the accession of Elizabeth, in 1558, all real Protestants 
■is the nation enlt-rtaitied strung bopes that the work of relbrm, 
%tuch was begun (with wlialever motiTes) by her father, which 
<Wm promoted lo ihe extent of his power by her brother Edward, 
■and which hud been not only retanled, but reversed, by her 
>ii«tcr MMry. of bloody memory, would be resumed and speedily 
ropleled. But all hopes founded upon the accession of a pro- 
liftssedly Protpjiiant queen were destined to be sadly disap- 

The nation was, at this time, divided into three parlies of very v^ 
nequal tite : the PapUtt, the Slate Profetltmlt, and a small, but 
'OODtinually increasing, number of fruly religioiii peoplt, who were 
isAcrwards branded with the name of Puritans. The great 
itody of the people of England, says Macaulay, had no tiled 
jspinion ns tn Ihe mallurs of dispute Itetwecn the churches. 
" Each ^icle had a few enterprising champions, and n few stout- 
KearlMl niiirtyr» : but the nation, undctorraincd in iiit opinions 
1 ftwliii^, resigned itself iiapUciily lo thu guidance of the 
^remment, md lent to the sovereign, for the time being, an 
lualljr ready aid against either of the extreme parties. They 
ero Boraetimes Protestant, sometimes Catholic, sometimes half 
ProUwtMitu, lialf Catholics. They were in a situation resembling 
bu of tlUMC borderers whom Sir Walter Scott has descnbed 
nth w much spirit, — 

" Who unftht the liccTei that muds Iheir broth, 
lo Scotland and in England liulli." 
* IStmoin of Colonel IlDtchlnKin, 1 10S. 


The religion of England was thus a mixed religion, like that 
of the SamariUtn setllera dcficrilied in the Secotid Book of Kiaga, 
'■ who feared the Lord, and served their own guds ; " like that 
of tlie Judaizing Christians, %\'ho bleoded the doctrines of the 
synagogue with Ihose of the church; like that of the Mexican' 
Indian^ who. for many generations utter Ihe subjugation of their 
race, continued to unite with the rites learned from their con- 
querors the worship of (he grotesque idols ivbich had been 
adored by Montezuma and Gautiraoiin." • 

All the English clergy, who were really Protestant at heart, 
made vigorous eliertions, in the beginning of the reign of Eliza- 
beth, to separate the church more entirely from the influence 
of Popery ; but the queen, who controlled all the affairs of the 
church as well as of the stale, was very differently inclined. 
Though educated as a Protestant, and professing, from her early 
years, to feel strong dislike of the Papacy, and love lo the cause 
of truth, she was, in opinion, " little belter than half a Prolea- 
tant." She loved magnificence in religion as well a^ in every 
thing else, and, to the last, cherished a great fondness for those 
rites and ceremonies of the Romish church which her father had 
retained. " She had no scruple about conforming to that church, 
when conformity was necessary to her own saftjly ; and she bad 
profeBBed, when it suited her, lo be wholly a Calholic." She 
always kept a crucifix, with wax lights burning aronnd it, in her 
private chapel. The service of the church had been too much 
stripped of ornament and display lo suit her taste, and its doc- 
trines were made loo nairow for her opinions; in bolli, therefore, 
she made alterations, to bring them into greater conformity to 
Ihe Papacy. Instead of carrying the reformation of Edward 
further, she often repented that it had been carried so far. 
Accordingly she directed tho. committee of divines, who were 
appointed, in 15o9, to review the Liturgy of Edward, to sirite 
out all passages ihat could be offensive lo the pope, and to make 
the people easy about the cor)>oi'eal presence of Christ in the 

* Macnuiay'i Kshti. i. ITS, I'D. 


Mcrarocnt, bul to say not a, word in favor of the stricler Proles- 
I'lini^ H respectable body both of the clergy and ihe laity, wbo 
s lUikioua to bring tbe reformation to that slate which Pi-ot- 
I.MlAnls alirond regarded as llic Bcripiural model. 

In tbe year 1559, ilii; Parliamunt passed an " act for the v^ 
P SDtforniity of common pmyer, and service of the church, and 

lininlration of the eacramenta ; " by one clause of which all , 

l.teFkiiasiical jurisdiction was again given up to the crown ; and 

■ Ihe queen was empowered, with ilie advice of her ciHnmisaioners, 

P«r mfclropolitun, tu ordain and publish such other ritps or cere- 

nouies at uiigbt, in her opinion, be moat for the advancement of 

Gud'e glory, the edifying of bis church, and the due reverence 

of Christ's holy mysteries anil sacrami:nts ; without which claiiEe, 

fwnrving to the queen power to make what alterations she 

I jir ay i e d, she told Archbishop Parker she would not have passed 

I ibc DcL Tlic oppressive u^e that was tnade of the enormous 

I. power thtiE conferred upon a queen, who declared tjiat she bated 

W ike PurilMis worse than she did the Papists, we see in the hi^ 

l^toiT of those times. Elizabeth was resolved that all should 

■Mnform to her worship, or Buffer the severest penalties of Ihe 

Kkwi and she fierseculed the conscientious Nonconformists with 

Wm cruelty which proved that her profession of hatred was sincere. 

lUhe did not bum them, us her si^^ter Blary did the herclics of 

H^tjfeM, but she subjected them to liardships more terrible tlian 

HBrthe exercise of her boundless prerogative, ehe instituted / 
Hm cagine of persecution, the court of " High Commission i " V 
Kiiiil DO leM than Sve courts of this name were established with 
^bcre«8itig wvoriiy. The power of these tribunals was brought 
Bb i*car with Irrrible ctfect upon the Puritans. A great many 
■hiUirul ministers wero suspended from their livings, deposeil, 
^bed, imprinnned, and their families and inlereMs ruined, for 
nefiwing to conform to the esliiblishetl ritual. They were fre- 
llQBnitiy imprisoned without any previous complaint, and some- 
^^Bts without any knowledge of the chiu'ges upon which the; 

xlvi LIFE or THOUAS sbefarh. 

wen? nrresled ; ihcy were refused bail, anJ often suiFered a long 
and tedious (.'oiifinement before they were brought to trial. 
They were not only denied the privilege of trial by jury, but 
condemned without being confronted by the witnesses against 
them. On the most iiisnnring questions, multiplied and arranged 
in the moat artl'ul manner, they were obliged to answer instantly 
uptin onth, with the rack or tlic prison distinctly in view. The 
horrible character of these inquisitorial examinations is well 
described by Lord Burleigh, in a letter to Archbishop Wlkit- 
gift : " I have read over your twenty-four articles, formed in 
Romish style, of great length and curiosity, to examine all man- 
ner of ministers in this time, without distinction of persons, 
to be executed, and I find them so curiously penned, so full of 
branches and circums lances, that I think the Inquisition of Spain 
used not so many questions to comprehend and to trap their 

After the convocation of 15G2 had framed the Thirty-nine 
Articles, and, by a majority of one, decided to retain all the 
ceremooicB which had given so much offence to every real Prot- 
estant, the bishops began to enrorce upon the clergy subscrip- 
tion to the Liturgy and ceremonies, as well as to the articles 
of faith. The penalty for refusing to subscribe was eKpulaion 
from their parishes. Three hundred ministers, of pious and ex- 
emplary lives, some of them eminent for their talents and learn- 
ing, refused to subscribe, and were deprived of their living. 
Unwilling to separate from a church in which the word and the 
sacraments were in substance administered, though dbfigured 
and defiled by some Popish superstitions, some of tliese deprived 
ministers continued to preach, as they bad opportunity, in places 
where the ceremonies could be safely dispensed with, though 
they were excluded, of course, from all ecclesiastical prefer- 

Many of the common people were as strongly opposed to the 
use of the clerical vestments, and other relics of Popery, as the 
ministers, and, believing it to be milawful lo countenance such 

LUX ur luOMAa BHBi-Aiti>. xlvii 

Mperslitione even by their presence, would not enter the 
churches where thej' were used. It now became & question of 
great interest and iniportance, for those who were qualiRed and 
desirous to preach the goiipel, as well as for those who wished to 
henr it in its purity, what their duly was in this posture of alFaii's. 
Id the year 1572, a solemn consultation was held by them upon 1/ 
this subject : and after prayer and earnest debate respecting 

(the lawlijlness and necc^ity of separating from the establbhed 
ehurdi, they came to lliis result : " That, since they could not 
laiv« (he word of God preached, nor the sacraments adminis- 
torwl, without idolatrous gear, and since there had been a scpa- 
nie congregation in London, and another at Geneva, in Queen 
l[ary*8 lime, which used a book ond order of preaching, admin- 
istration, and discipline which Calvin had approved of, and 
which was free from the superstition of the English service, 
therefore it was their duty, in their present circumstances, to 
break off from the public church, and to assemble, as they hod ^ 
«p]iorlQnily. in private houses, or elsewhere, to worship God in 
K manner that might not offend tlie light of their consciences." 
Another question was discussed at this meeting, namely, whelJier 
lliey should use so much of the Common Prayer and service of 
llie church as was not offensive ; or, since they were cut off from 
! church of England, at once lo set up iho purest and best 
Ibrm of worship most consonant to the sacred Scriptures, and to 
Ite practice of the foreign reformers. They concluded to do . ^ 
be faiUer ; and accordingly laid aside the English Liturgy nlto-V^ 
elhi-r, and adopted (he service book used at Geneva. This 
■• b«en colled the epoch of the SepanUion, aa the year 15C2 \. 
ynt of Noaenn/vrmilg.' 

la the year 1581, the Parliament passed an act imposing a 
bM of 20/. a monih on every person who refused to attend the 
OodtBMO Prayer; and it was not long before there was occasion 
i inAIct this ruinous penalty. The nfHicted Puritans appealed 
t the queen, to both houses of Parliament, to the Convocation, 

• Kc^ mn. PariL i. IM.^ 


and to ihc bUhops, but cauld obtain no relief. Several ministers 
were imprisoneil Tor ihc inexcusable crime of asking for a littk 
relief from the rigor with wliicb they were pursued lo ruin. 
Members of ParliamenI were sent lo the Tower for speaking in 
fuvor of the miserable Puritans. Bills, parsed in the House of 
Commons for their relief, were sent for by the queen, and 
cancelled ; and llie Parliament waa peremptorily forbidden lo 
meddle with eccleaiastiCHl affairs. 

Wearied out with this unrelenting persecution, which drove so 
mtmj of tlic moat useful ministers into obscurity, nnd discour- 
aged by the stern rejection of all their petitions for rulief, the 
Puritans began lo despair of any further reformation of the 
church by the ruling powers i and in one of their a^semlitiea 
came to this conclusion : " That, since the magistrate could not be 
induced to reform the disci{iline of the cliureh by so many pe- 
•lilions and supplications, therefore, after so many years' waiting. 
7 it was lawful to act without bim, and to introduce a reformation 
in the best manner they could." ■ 

That portion of the Puritan party, however, to which our 
fathers belonged, did not voluntarily and scbiamatically separate 
from the church, like Brown and others, who renounced hH 
communion with the establishment, not only in ceremonies and 
prayers, but in hearing the word and sacraments, nnd refused to 
rect^nize it as a true church, or its ministers as true ministers 
of the gospel. The Nonconformists generally did not deserve 
the name of Browniats, which they someiimes bore through ihc 
ignorance or malice of their enemies. They doubtless agreed 
with the separatists in opposing (he tyranny and super^'litions 
of the hierarchy, and in maintaining their right lo worship God 
according to the dictates of llieir consciences enlightened by the 
Scriptures ; but they did not acknowledge him as their father. 
nor, in fact, did ihcy agree with him in principle. The flniil ex- 
clusion of both parlies from the parent church was brought about 
by the same cause, namely, the oppression which they suffered 

■ NenI, i. 30R. 



B the bUbops ; but sameness of origin is no proor of identitjr 

" Xo marTel," says Collon, " if we take it ill to be 

I Brownists, ID whole or in pari ; for neither in whole nor 

Hdo we pitrtakc of his schism. He Mparated from churchel-^ 

d from saints ; we only from ilie world, anil that which is of 

P'tfie world. We were not baplized into his name, anil why should 

e be CKlleil by his name ? The Brownists did not beget us to 

I G<m)i or to the churcli, or to their schism — a echism which us 

e have himenied in them, as a. fruit of misguided, ignorant 

!*1, so we hnve ever bonic wilticss against it sinee our tiret 

KkiMwIcilge of it."* 

The truth is. that while the Puritans deprecated and dreaded 

taepanUion from (be church, and labored in all suitable ways to 

■void the necessity of going out of it, there was an evident 

deierrai nation on the pan of the ruling powers to get rid of 

tbose, whom, for fleeing from their tyranny, they condemned M 

■cparaiist!!. It was the opinion of the stricter reformers geaer- 

^•By. that they might consistently retain tlieir connection with thef 

E.psrenI church, which they acknowledged to be a true church ; 

it of arbitrary human laws upon their privileges, 

d the imposition by such laws of corrupt members, canons and 

'■ of worship, destroyed neither their rights nor their Chriftian 

iMmctfr: and ilint since a separation was not allowed by the 

; liuwers, and the organization of purer churches within 

iiigdom was im practicable, they ought to remain in the 

I. groaning under their burdens and laboring for her ref- 

But the reigning powers were very willing to have 

tenlloua people excluded from the fellowship of a 

ich tltcy loved with all ber faults. 

itehop Sheldon once said to a gentleman, who expressed 

I regret lliat ibe door was made so strait that many sober 

Ftera could not enter, " It in no cause of regret at all ; if we 

1 tbtragbt 60 tnitny of them would have contbrmed, we would 

e it ttiU strniter." 

• W«y of the Congngationil ChurcLvi, p. 10. 


The sin of schism, therefore, which has been so often charged 
upon our Con^rerralionsl Tathcrs, does not lie nt their door. Laud 
himself, Che greatest enemy ihe Puritans ever had, lays it down 
m a muxim, that *' schism is theirs whose tlie catue of it is i and 
he makes the se|»iratioD who gives the Jirst caiue of it, not he 
that makes an actual separation upon a just cause preceding." 
" They who talk bo mucli of seels and divisions," says Locke, 
" would do well to consider whether those are not most authors 
and promoters of sects and divisions, who impose creeds and 
ceremonies, and articles of men's making, and make things not 
necessary (o salvfiiion the necessary terms of communion ; ex- 
cluding and driving from ihem such as, out of conscience and 
persuasion, con not assent and submit to them, and treating ihem 
aa if ihey were utter aliens from the church of God, and such as 
were deservedly shut out as unfit lo be members of it; who 
narrow Christianity with bounds of their own making, which the 
gospel knows nothing of; and often, for things in themselves 
confessedly indifferent, thrust men out of their c 
then punish ihem for not being of iL" * 


Sketch of English eccksiaaticai hislarj continued. — Ateejsion of James 
1. — Hopes of Uio Puritana. — Hamplon Conrt conference. — No chnnge 
in iho Liturey. — Confonnity enjoined by proclamation. — Jamc&'a 
speech lo his first Parlinment. — Bishop Baneraft's measures. — Furiuns 
divided into two elas«u, Confomiists, and Nonconformists. — Vindication 
of Nonconformists. — Story from Soman history. — John Hampden'i 
icfasal to pay ship money. — Grand result ofpersecnlion. 

, Tbk harassed and helpless Puritans had looked forward with 
'<' hope (o ihe accession of James I. He was a member of the 

Presbylerian church of Scotland and had often professed much 


l^rmpatby with tliem in ibeir afBictions. Not anticipating the 
change ihni would be wrought in his theological notioiis by tlie 
prelate's niaxiin, " No bishop, no king," nor dreaiaing of the 
eflect which would be produced upon his " northern tonBlitution " 
by the "southern air of the bishop's breath," they expected that 
he would at once relieve them of these burdens. He ascended 
the throne of England iti 1603-; and \vhether he Iiad always 
been a hypocrite, or whether he became intoxicated hj the flat- 
ttrj of the hypocritical bishops, certain it is, that all the cheer- 
ing expectalioDB of ihoee who regarded themselves as hb brethren 
in the faith of Christ, were at once blasted by the contemptuous 
and oppressive course which he adopted toward them. Upon 
hid arrival in England, a petition, signed by eight or nine hun- 
dred ministers of the gospel, " his majesty's most humble eub- 
jecte," praying, not for a " disorderly innovation, but a godly 
reformation," in the ceremonies and discipline of the church, was 
presented to him. 

This called forth a bitter attack upon the Puritans from the 
bishops and the universities, and produced a controversy, which 
■fler a few months was silenced by a royal proclamation, in 
which the king declared his aliachment and adherence to the 
established church ; but graciously encouraged the petitioners U> 
hope for a conference, in which the nature and extent of their 
grierancea would be examined. This conference, or, as it should 
Mtber be called, the trial and condemntition of the Puritans, was 
held at Hampton Court, on the 14th of January, 1604,and hence 
called the ** Hampton Court Conference." \/ 

A Tery full and graphic account of this conference is found in 
Fnller's Church History of England. The king sat as modera- 
tpe ; but in the dtsciission he became the chief speaker in defence 
of the oppressive proceeding of the church, and assailed the 
Kooeonforrotsts with much coarse, vulgar, and abusive language. 
Aw church was represented by nearly all the bishops and deans i 
and Dr. Beynolds, Dr. Sparks. Mr. Kncwstubs, and Mr. Chad- 
derloo, men eminent for piety and learning, and held in high 
r wi p e ct bf (be people, appeared in behalf of the Nonconfbrmuts. 


m LffE OF THOMAS sriK.-AIIl.. 

On the first day of the conference, (he king made a sort of gntix- 
iMory addresa to the bishops and dwins by lliomselves, in whicli 
he expressed his joy that ho had iwt, like Henry VIII., Edward 
,V1., und Queen Eliznbeth, to alter all things, but merely to con- 
/flnn what he found well settled ; that he bad been brought, by 
God's good providence, into the promised land, where religion 
■waa purely professed, and where he could sit among grave, 
learned, and reverend men, not as before, " elsnchere," {not 
deigning lo name poor Scotland,) a king wiihout stale, without 
lionoi', without order, where beardless boys would sometimea 
brave him to his face; and declared his purpose to be, like a 
good physician, to examine and try the complaints of the people, 
and fully to remove ihe occasions of them if scandalous ; to cure 
them if dangerous : lo take knowledge of them if but frii'oloua ; 
thereby to cast a sop into tlie mouth of Cerberus, that he might 
burk no more ; and if any thing should be found necessary to 
be redressed, that it should be done " without any visible altera- 

On Monday, January 16, the advocates of the Nonconformists 
were admitted to the conference, and the king made a " pithy 
speech," winding up with an address to these four opposers of 
conformity, whom he IM hpHrd were ilie " most grave, learned, 
and modest of the aggrieved tort" professing himself ready to 
hear what they had to object, and commanding them to begin. 

Dr. Reynolds. " All things disliked or questioned may be 
reduced to these four heads; 1. That the doctrine of the church 
might be preserved in purity, according to Giod's word, 2. That 
good pastors might be placed in all the churches to preach the 
same. 3, That ihe church government might be sincerely ad- 
minislercd according to God's word. 4. That the Book of Coui- 
mon Prayer might be fitted to more increase of piety. For the 
Brsl, nuiy your raajesty be pleased, that the articles of religion 
conuluded on in 15'>:2 be explained where obscure, and enlarged 
where defective." And here the doctor referred to Articles 16, 
23, and 25. as needing revi^iion. 

Biikop of Laadoii. (Bancroft.) '■ May It please your majesty, 



fiuX liie ancient canon may he remembered, Scliismatici con- 
tra epiteopitt RD7I tJiiit audiendi. And there is another decree 
loient council, that no man bIiouM be permitted to 
i^>eak ngaia«l that wberuunlo he hath formerty subscribed. 
And as for jou. Dr. Reynolds, nnd jour sociates, how much 
e ye bound lo hi^ muje^ty's clemency, pennitiing you, contrary 
the Btaiule |)rimo Elizubelliic, «o freely to speak against the 
l(ur<!:y and discipline established. Fain would I know the end 
lU ajra at, and whether you be not of Mr. Cartwrighl's mind, 
who affirmed that we ought in ceremonies rather to conform to the 
Turka than to the Papbta. I doubt you approve his position, be- 
e here appearing before hi<i mujesty in Turkey gowns, not in 
jpur acholasiic habits, answering to the order of the universities." 
7A« King. " My lord bishop, something in your passion I 
nay excuse, and something I must mtslike. I may excuse you 
Ikus iiu-, that I think you have just cause to be moved, in respect 
it they traduce the well-settled governmeht, and also proceed 
in *o indecent a course, contrary to their own pretense, and the 
intent of Iliis meeting. I raislike your sudden intermption of 
Dr. Reynolds, whom you should have suffered to have taken 
U* liberty 1 for there is no order, nor can be any eOecIual issue 
;«f disputation, if each party be not suffered, without chopping, 
Q spcftk at large." . . . 
Jlkv JUjfneld*. "The catechism in the Common Prayer 
li loo brief, and that by Sir. Nowell, late Dean of Paul's, 
jftw novices to learn by heart. I request, therefore, that 
1 catechUm may be made, and none other generally 
e King. " I think the doctor's request very reasonable, 
> tluu Ihe catechism may be made in the fewest and 
t aArOMtive terms that may be. And herein I would 
rule* obwrvcd. First, that curious and deep questions 
I in<M»A in the fundamental instruction of a people. Seo 

t there sliould not be so general a departure from the J 
I, tbu every thing should be accounted an error in which ^' 
e with tbera." 



Dr. Regnoldt. "Great is |]ip profanation of the Subbalb, and 
contempt of your majealy'a proclaramion, wLich I earnestly 
desire raay be reformed." 

This motion was unanimously agreed to. 

Dr. Reyiioldt. " May it plcitse your raajcrtly ihat the Bible 
be new translated ; such Irnn^lalions as are extant not answering 
the original." And he instanced in three particulars. 

Bithop of London. "If every mau's huiuor might be fol- 
lowed, there would be no end of translating." 

TTie Kittff. "I profess I could never yet see a Bible well 
IroDBlated iu Engliah. I wii^h eome special pains were taken 
for a unifomi translation, wliieh should be done by the best 
learned in both universities ; (hen reviewed by the bisLops, pre- 
sented to the privy council, lastly rutiUed by royal 'authority, to 
be read in Ihe whole church, and no other. To conclude this 
point, let errors in matters of faith be amended, and indifferent 
i' things be interpreted, and a gloss added to them. A church 
' with Boote faults is better ihnn on innovation. And surely, if 
these were the greatest matters that grieved you, I need not 
have been troubled with such importunate coraplaitils." . . . 
/ Dr. Jiiynoli/i, "And now to proceed to the second general 
point, concerning the planting of learned ministers ; I desire 
they be in every parish." 

TKe King. '' I have consulted my bishops about it, whom 
I have fouud willing aud ready herein. But as gvbiUt evaeuatio 
is perieuh*a, so iubita mutatia. It can not presently be per- 
formed, the universities not aB'ording them." . . . 

Bii/iop of London. " Beciiuse this, I see, is a time of moving 
petitions. m;iy I humbly present two or three to your majesty ? 
First, that there may be amongHt ua a praying ministry, it 
being now come to pass, tliat men think it the only duty of n)in- 
isters to upend their time in the pulpiL 1 confess, in a church 
newly to be planted, preachinp is most necessary : not so in one 
long established, that prayer should be neglected." 

ne King. '■! like your motion exceeding well, and dislike 
the hypocrisy of our time, who place all their religtoti iu the 

IT, whilst prayer, bo rcqnbite and acceptable, if duly performed, 

ncfounKd and used as the ksst jiarL of religion." 

SitAop nf London. '*My second motion is, llial unlU learned 
men may l>e planted in every congregation, godly homilies may 

read therein." 

7X* King. " I approve your motion, eepecially where the 
Eving is not suDicifnt fer the maintenance of a learned preacber. 
AIho where there l>e multitudes of sermons, there I would have 
bomilies read divers time?." . . . 

Ltfrd ChanFfUor. " Livings rather want learned men, than 
learned men want livings ; many in the universities pining for 
of places. I wish, tlierefore, some may have single coata 
(■me living) liefore others have douiilets, (pluralities,) and tfaia 
:4aHlhod I have otwcrvcd in bestowing the king's bcnetiues." 

Bithop of London. " I commend your honorable care that 
my. but a douhlel is neceesary in eold weather. Aty last motion 
{•, that pulpits may not be made Pasquils, wherein every diacoa- 
knled fellow may traduce his superiois." 

Tht King, " I accept what you offer, for the pulpit is no 
phce of personal reproof. Let them complain to me, if in- 

Dt. Rgynoids. " I eome now to srescRiPTiONS, as a grear 
inpcuhment to a learned ministry, and therefore entreat that 
may not be exacted as heretofore ; fur which many good men 
■c kept out, Ilioiigh otherwise witling to subscribe to ttie statutes 
' lite realm, nniclcs of religion, and iJie king's supremacy." . . 
'Jtk ■Xiimi'iluht. "I take exceptions to the cross in baplisra, 
iIk weak brethren are offended, contrary to the counsel 
le, (Rum. xiv. and 2 Cor. viii.)" 
Kng. "DtMtingue Itmpora, et euncordaburU Seriptur«. 
the difference between tho^ times and ourti. Then, u 
not fully settled ; now, ours long establisbeil. How long 
brethren bo weak? Ari* not forty-five years sulRcient 
to grow strong in ? Besides, who pretends this weak- 
V rrqnire not the $ahscri|itioo of Uics and idiots, but 
and minUiers, who are Dot ttill, I trow, to be f«d 


will) milk, boing enabled to feed others. Some of lliein are 
Btrong enoiigli, if not headstrong ; conceiving themselves able 
enough to teach him who lost Epake for them, and all the bishops 
in the land." 

Mr. KftnPftuht. " It ia quesiionable whether the church bath 
power to institute an outward significant sign." 

Biihop of London. '■ The cross in buiitism is not used other- 
wise tlian a ceremony." . . . 

The Kivg. "I nra exceeding well salisticd on this point, but 
would be acquainted about the antiquity of the use of the cross." 

Dr. Rfifiioldt. " It bath been used ever since the apostles' 
time. But the question 'a, how ancient the use thereof hath 
been in baptism." 

Dean of Westminster. " It appears out of Tertullian, Cyprian, 
and Origen, that it was used in immortalt lavacro." 

Bithop of Winchetter, " In Constantine's time it was used 

The King. " If so, I see no reason but we may continue 

Mr. Knemtvbt. " If the church hath such a power, the great- 
est scruple is, how fur the ordinance of the church hindeth, with- 
out impeaching Christian liberty." 

The King. " I will not argue that point with you, but answer 
as kings in Parliament, Le rny M'aritera. This ia like Mr. 
John Block, a beardless boy, who told me, the last conference in 
Scotland, that he would hold conformity with his majesty in 
matters of doctrine, but every man for ceremonies was to be left 
to" hja own liberty. But I will have none of that. I will have 
I I one doctrine, one discipline, one religion, in substance and cere- 
' mony. Never speak more lo that point, how far you are bound 
to obey." 

Dr. EeytioUt. " Would that the cross, being supers Li I iou sly 
abused in Pojiery, were abandoned, as the brazen serpent wits 
stamped to powder by He^ekinh, because abused to idolatry," 

T%e King. " Inasmuch as the cross was abused to Hupersti- 
Ijon in. time^^ ^9E^?i '' doth plainly imply that it was welt 


tised before. I deleft their coursCE, who peremptorily dballow 

■ ti ail things which liuvo bwn nbuseil in Popery, and know not 
'few to anjw«r the objections of ihe Popisls when liiey charge as 

■with nov^lticH. but by telling them we retain the primitive use'-' 
of things, and only Torsake their novel corruptions. Secondly, 
no reHenililance between the brnzen serpent — ii nmlerial, visible 
aign — &nd the sign of the cross made in the air. Thirdly, 
Fnpisis, as I am informed, never did ascribe any spiritual grace 

■ to the cross in baptism. Lastly, malfriai crowet. 10 which the 
people fell down in time of Popery, (us the idolatrous Jews lo the 
IvKzon serpent,) are already demulished, aa you desire." 

Mr. Kiutextubt. " 1 lake exception &l tlie wearing of the sui^ 
plicc, a kind of garment used by the priests of Isis." 

The King. " I did not think, till of late, it had been borrowed 
from the heathen, because conunonly called a rag of Popery. 
Seeing now we border not upon heatliens, neither nre any of 
Ihcm conversant with, or commorant among us, thereby lo be 
eonfirmed in paganism, I see no reason but for comeliness' sake 
It may he retained." , . . 

Dr. Reynoldt. " I desire, that according lo certain provin- 
m1 constitutions, the clergy, may have meetings every three 

Tht King. " If you aim at a Scottish Preabytery, it agreeth 
W well with monarchy as God and the devil. Then Jack, nnd 
Tom, and Will, and Dick shall meet and censure me ami my 
council. Therefore I reiternte my former speech, Lf roy s'avi- 
ttra : sluy, I pray, for one ?even years, before you demand, and 
tbvn if you l)nd me grow pursy and fat, I may [lerchance hearken 
ta\o you, for that government will keep me in breath, and give 
■e work enoagh. , . . I shall here speak of one mailer more, 
Moewbu out of order, but it »killeth not. Dr. Reynolds, you 
nre ofl«a tpoken for my supremncy, and it is well. But know 
roa aoy here, or elsewhere, who [ike of the present government 
•eeleciwltctil, and dislike my supremacy ?" 
Dr. Rfjfuoldt. " I know none." 
7%« &mg. ..." My lurdit the bishops, I may thank you 


tlmt ihese men plead ihus for ray supremacy. They think they 
can not make good (heir party against you but by appealing uiilo 
it ; but if once you weri; out, and tbey in, I know what would 
' become of my supremacy; for, No Bishop, vo King. I have 
learnt of what cut they have been, who, preaching before me 
since my coming into England, passed over with silence my 
being supreme governor in causeB ecclesiastical. Well, doctor, 
have you any thing else lo say?" 

I}r, Reynolds. " No more, if it please your majesty." 

The King, " If this be all your parly hath to say, 1 will 
make them conform themselvea, or ebe I will harry them out of 
the land, or else do worse." 

Here ended the second day's conference. The third was held 
on the Wednesday following. After some discourse between the 
king, the bishops, and the lords respecting the proceedings of 
the Court of High Commission, the four Nonconformists were 
called in, and such alterationa in the Liturgy as the bishops, by 
the advice of the king, had made, were read to them, and to 
which their silence was taken for consent. 

The King. " I see the exceptions against the Cammunioo 
• Book are matters of weakness ; therefore, if the persons reluctant 
be discreet, they will be won betimes, and by good persuasions : 
if indiscreet, better they were removed, for by their factions 
many are driven lo he Papists. From you, Dr. Reynolds, and 
your asMciates, I expect obedience and humiiity, (the marks of 
honest and good men,) and that you would persuade others 
abroad by your esampte." 

Dr. Rtynoldt. " We here do promise lo perform all duties to 
bisthops as revered fathers, and to join with them against the 
common adversary, for the quiet of the church." 

Mr. Chadderion. " I request that the wearing of the surplice 
and the cross in baptism may not be urged on some godly 
ministers in Lancashire, fearing, if forced unto them, many, won 
by their preaching of the gospel, will revolt lo Popery." 

The King. " It is not ray purpose, and I dare say it is not 
the bishop's intent, presently, and out of hand, to enforce these 

Ihuigs, without fatherly ndmoahions, conferences, and |>ersi]a- 
iions, prcmi^d.'' . . . 

Mr. KiietBiilubi. " I request the like favor of forbearance to 
■ome honest miaiaters in Suffolk, for it will make much against 
ttieir credit in the countr? to be now forced to the surplice and 
«roea in baptism." 

Arvhbuhop of Cvnlrrbury. "Nay, sir." 
7J* Kirtff. " Let me alone lo answer him. Sir, you show 
lur^elf an uncliarilablc man. We have here taken pains, and, 
fa) the end, Imvc concluded on unity and uniformity, and you, 
f(ir»ooib, must prefer the credits of a few private men be- 
Jbre the peace of the church. This is just the Scotch argu- 
■tenC, when any thing was concluded which disliked some liu- 
Lct them either contbrm them^ives shortly, or they 
•boll hear." * . . . 

AAer a few words respecting ombuling and silting communion, 
thb famous — if it should not mther be called infamous — con- 
lereiice ended; and with it all the hopes which ihe Puritans 
had cherished of relief from [he intolerable bondage in wbiclr.v' 
ihey were held by the bishops. Fuller remarks, ihat m ihia 
conference some thought that James "went above himself;" that 
Ihe Siehop of London, the violent Bancroft, " appeared even 
witi) himself;" and that Dr. Reynolds "fell much beneath him- 
•clf-" But we must remember that the report of those proceed- 
ings was originally made by a professed enemy of the Puritan 
■divincft, who was na much inclined lo flatter the pedantic vanity 
of the king, and to glorify the bishops, as he was to misrepresent 
fllic ch^ractiT and the arguments of tliose whom lie hated. 
* When the Isrorlitcs go down to tlie Philistines lo whet all their 
louls, no wonder if ihey set a sharp edge on their own, and 
blunt one on their enemies' weapons," as Fuller charitably 
ierve«. The Archbishop of Canterbury went so far as to 
:lue hi* belief diat his roujesiy spoke by the especial assistance 
God's Spirit; and Buucroft " appeared only even with him* 

* Follcr'i Chorch Uiitotj, book z. pp. 7-al. 


aelf," when lie exclaimed, " I protest that niy heart meltelh with 
joj, that Almighty God, of hia singular mercy, lialh given ns 
such a king, as, since ChriHt's time, the like halh not been." 
But Sir J. Harrington, who was present, remarked, in reference 
to the archbishop's blasphemods flattery, that the spirit by which 
that king spoke waa "rather foul mouthed;" that he used 
expressions wbi(;h it would not be decent to repeat ; and that 
he 'rc^rted to abuse rather than argument, bidding ibe petition' 
era to " away with their sniveling." James himself, in a letter to 
some nanielefis Scotch correspondent, describes the part he played 
in the conference in the following style ; " We have kept such 
a revell with the Purilnns here this two days as van never heard 
the like. Qubaire I have pepered them as soundlie as yee have 
done the Papists Ihnii-e. It were no reason, that those that will 
refuse the airy sign of the cross after baptism should have their 
purses stuffed with any more solid and substantial crosses, . . . 
I have sueh a book of theirs as may well convert infidels, but it 
shall never convert me, except by turning me more earnestly 
against thayme." 

We can sec clearly enough (brongh all the clouds of prejudice 
and passion in which that scene has been enveloped, that the 
" demands of the Puritans were perfectly reasonable, and pre- 
Benled in the humblest and most unobjectionable manner; while 
on the part of the king and the bishops, there was not even the 
appearance of a desire to heal the divisions of the church by 
modifying the arbitrary and tyrannical measures which produced 
I them, but, on ilic contrary, a manifest determination to make the 
Puritans conform to every thing contained in a semi-Popish Lii- 
ilT^', or, as James himself once railed it, "an ill-said muss in 
l^nglish," by the Ici-ror of fines, imprisonment, and bnnistiment 
from their country. This conference seems to have been a prov- 
idential opportunity for healing the distractions of the church, 
anil of esiablishing a true Christian union upon the ba-^is of God'a 
word. But it was wickedly lost through liie worldly policy of 
the bishops, and the arbitrary principles and cowardice of the 
king, who flattered the hierarchy to secure its support of the 



throne, itnil feared the Purilans for llieir r 
•reign will. Had the ruling powers at this time followed the 
'SdTJce of Mine of ihe wisest and most pious divines iD their own 
•bnrch, or the example of the reformer itbroud who took the 
Bcripturea, and not a t'orrupt tradition, for iheir guide Id the work 
of reformation, tliey might have prevented a division as disgrace- 
fyi as it was disastrous in its ctinwqiiences to tUem. 

Bat ibev, iu their blindness, deemed il best W retain everyi/ 
■ tiling which troubled llie consciences of the most devout portion 
af the church. The only good thing done bjr tliem at this coii- 
Cm^ucv was, oonsenting to a new translation of the Bible, or ^ 
nUier a careful revision and comparison of all the translations 
then in u&e. A very few trifling alterations in the prescriiied 
.ce wore agreed upon by the king and the bishops : and then 
' ft royal proclamation ytae issued, iMmmanding all the people to 
conform to the doctrines and discipline of the established 
' «Lurcb, as the only form to be tolerated in the kingdom, and 
•liioonishing the malconlcnis not (o expect any fiirllu;r alieraiiun 

r wliof. The Common Prayer Book was iiceonlingly printcd^'^'^ 
vbh lho»e inconsiderable Hmcndmeiits, and the pruclamaliun 
pnliscd, like the cherubim with flnming sword guarding tlie tree 

Jainea opened his firat Parliament with a cliaraeleristic 
Ipoccli, in which he acknuwledgi-d the Romish church to be 
*aur Molhrr Church," and professed Lis willingnegs to mwt 1/' 
iw Papitts half way, fur the sake of bringing about a union of 
:|l)i? lau religious, at lite same lime denouncing the Puritans as a 
■•(ect ituuflerablo in any well-governed cotamonwcnlih." The 
CooTooition, which sal at iho tmuie time, were very active in 
hying marca, aud pre|iaring wea|K>ns, for the unfortunate sect 
a* placed tinder the curse of the realm. They drew up a 
ok of one hundred and forty cauons, according to which, sus- 
wion and deprivation being regarded as too light a punish- 
cnt for lb« enoruuius sin uf Nonconfonaily, all who refused to 
nfonn were, ipto J'ncto, e scorn uiuniealcd and east out, aa hefc- 
m moA publicans, from llie fellowship uial protection of'lM 
rOL. 1. / 


v' churcli 'ftnd slttte. By these canons all Nonconformists were 
rendered incapable of bringing actions at law for the recovery 
of their legal debts ; were, by process of tho civil courts, to bo 
imprisoned for life, or until they should _give satisfaction to the 
church ; were to be ciposed to every form of temporal evi! in 
this world, and lo be denied Christian burial after death ; and if 
the power of tlie bishops hiid extended into tlie other world, 
would have been eternally excluded from the fellowship of just 
men made perfect. These canons were ratified by llie king, 
who, at the same time, commanded that thej should be dili- 
gently observed and executed ; that every parish minister should 
read them over once every year in his church, before divine 
service ; and that all persons having ecclesiastical jurisdiction 
should sec ihem put in execution, and not fail lo inflict the full 
penally upon every one who should purposely violate or neglect 

On the death of Archbishop Whitgift, who, though an enemy 
Bud a persecutor of the Puritans, was, comparatively, a moder- 

' ate man, Bancroft, Bishop of Loudon, who was the most irasci- 
ble and abusive speaker, next to the king, in the Hampton Court 
conference, succeeded to the archiepiscopal chair. Bancroft 
waa a man of a savage temper and most arbitrary principles ; 
and what Wliitgift strove to accomplish by comparatively mild 
measures, he resolved to do at once by an exterminating rigor. 
He revived the persecution with such severity that, in 1605, the 
year of Mr. Shepard's birth, about three hundred ministers were 
silenced, turned out from llicir parishes, or otherwise punished, 
for refusing subscriplion ; and yet of the sufferers in eight bish- 
oprics, no account was taken. These ministers bad preached in 
the church from ten to thirty years ; and, in many churches, the 
ceremonies had been laid aside for a long time. Some of these 
ministers were excommunicated and imprisoned, and others 

^forced into exile — "harried out of the kingdom," as James 
inaolently threatened they should be, if they did not conform, 

* Bcnnet, Mem. cb. iil. NmI, Hiat. Farit. I. 433. 


Uudi?r ih« intolcraDt measures now adopled and ialiesiblj ad- 
hered (o, manj' good men strove to conform, nnd succeeded in 
coBvincing tbemselvcs that they were doing God service in 
conlorming lo llie esiablixbud order. Hence ibosc wbo most 
eame^llj desired to see a Iborougb reformation of the church 
were divided into two parties, distinguished at the time, and 
well known since, as Conformist and NoncvnformUtM. Of the"-^ 
tint clais was Dr. Reynolds, who, at the Hampton Court con- 
ference, »olemnly promised "lo perform all duties to bishops, aa 
reverend fatliers, and to join with them against the common ad- 
versary, for the quiet of ihe church." Dr. Sparks, alio, another 
of tlie representatives of Puriianism in that unhappy confer- 
ence, lo which the petitioners were called, " not lo have their 

-uples removed," but to hear [lie king's *' pleasure propound- 
ed," went home a convert to the doctrine of the bishops, and 
I afler published a Treatise of Unity luid Uniformity. 
" Uencefurward," says Fuller, " many cripples in conformity wero 
cured of ibeir former halting therein, and those who knew not 
their own, till they knew the king's mind, in this matter, for the 
future, quietly digested the ceremonies of the cliurch." Of the 
klier class were our Congregational father?, wbo were willing Uy^ 
suffer the loss of all things rather than conform lo a ritual of . 
huiiuui origin, imposed with irresisiible human power. 

It has been often urged, in reproach of the Xonconformtals, 
liat while ibcy cordially consented to the dodrinet of the church, 
which were the only essential things, they obstinately refused lo 
perform a few ctremoniet, which were in themselves indifferent ;- 
and professing lu hoitor the church as their "dear mother," 
Uindly lied from her communion, and put her very existence in 
jeopardy for the take of getting rid of an " airy cross," and 
mtne genuttectiuns which could do no one any liarm. 

Xbauu would be some appearance of justice in this charge, if 
» in quctilioa had been regarded, at Ihat time, by any 
Kiailiffervnt things, liut nothing is more evident than 
\ Ihe ggvemmeni and ihc Puritans considered the quea- 
riAiolute and universal conformity a question of life and^ 


dCAlli. The only ground upon which the chiireli ^^a^ be in any 
degree Junilied in its unyieltliug demands ia, lliai she regardpd 

V every part of the prescribed Liturgy easenlial. If those rites 
and ceremouies were, in the judgtnent of (he government, really 
indifferent matters, it was moat nnju^t and cruel on their pnrt to 
roramand every ndult person in England to pruclice them against 
the seruples of even a weak conscieni-e, upon pain of ruinouB 
fines, imprisonment, or perpetual banishment. It is said that Dr. 
Burgess, once preaching before King James, and touching lightly 
upon the ceremonies, related the following story, by whieh he in- 
tended to illustrate, in n quiet wny, the inhumanity of the bishops 
in perseeuting the Puritans : Augustus Cwsar was once invited 
to dinner by a Roman senator, who was distinguished for his 
wealth, power, and magnificent living. As the emperor entered 
the house, he heard a great outcry, and, upon looking about, he 
saw several persons dragging a man after them, with the design, 
apparently, of killing him, while the poor fellow was begging 
most piieously for meroy, Tlie emperor demanded the cause of 
thatvioknce, and was told that their master had condemned this 
man to the fish ponds for breaking a very valuable glass. He 
commanded a ^tay of the execution : and when lie came into the 
. house, asked the senator whether he had glasses that were worth 
a man's life. He answered, being a great connoisseur in such 
things, that he owned glasses which he valued at the price of a 
province. The emperor desired to see these marvelous glasses, 
and was taken to a room where a large number were displayed. 
He saw that they were indeed beautiful to the eye. but know- 
ing ttiat they had been, and might siill be, the cause of much 
mischief, he dashed them al! to atoms, with this expression : 
" Better that all these perish than one man." The bishops, 
however, for whose especial benefit this story was told, were 
greatly enraged, instead of being convinced hy the illustration. 
They thought the ceremonies worth the lives of a thousand men ; 

^snd they succeeded in getting the doctor silenced for daring to 
think otherwise. 

On the other hand, the nonconforming Puritans, if they 


floald bsTC regurded these ihinga as imlifferent in Ihemselves, 
MhiM do longer ri^gard them as iiidifTerenl when the^ were im- 
poswl hj the slate, under severe penalties, as essential to the 
aocepiable worahip of God. They did not object to the use of 
toTtaa of prayer ; there were many things in the Common Prayer 
fiook which they could use with a good conscience ; and if any 
bitudc had heen allowed, they would never have separated I'roiu /■ 
Uw church. But they saw the misckiejC sf human^uthorily in 
relati on to religiouii worship , and could not acknowledge that 
ibe rangiatraie had power to impose a body of mere ceremonies 
npoD those nhom Christ had freed from the bondage of the cere- 
Bonial law. '• We reject," saya one of those Nonconformists, 
"those forms of prayer and of public worship which are imposed 
Vpon the consciences of men by human power, as cMuntial parU 
flf divine service. Although as to the matter of them they might , 
be lawfully observed, yet by the manner in which they are intrdt^ 
dncnl, they become the instruments of cruelty, and occasions of 
oatrageous tyranny over the best and most worthy sons of the 

And when we remember that this book contained the only 
ftrm of worship allowfil in England. — that every part of it, , 
.without exception, was made a matter of necessity, and not of v-^ 
choice, — that not only the ministers were required to use the 
vbole of it, but that every adult pei-son in the kingdom was 
oblig«<I to be present at the celebration of this service, and to 
take an active part in the worahip by repeating a certain 
of words, and performing certain rites and ceremonies, 
!•— the refusal of our fathers to conform seems not only defen- , 

imperatively demanded by their higher relation tov 

Christ. For, as Shepard well observes, the very yielding of 

formity to such a ser\'ice would " miserably cast away the 

ty purchased hy Christ for his people, inlhrall the 

ittn:fac« to Antichrist, and 11(1 up tlie power of Antichrist 

hm tyruinous usurpation upou the churches of Chri«l."t 

* ApoL cb. vii. Q. 3. 

t Treutiso of Liiur^ica. I'rcrace. 


When Ilampdeo, a few j^eara lafer, resisted the illegal re- 
quirement sf Charles I. witli respect lo ship money, and for 
a few shillings was willing to plunge the nation into H eivil war, 
he was hailed ns a iioblc chutnpion of eivil liberty. Why, then, 
should our fathers be branded as narrow-minded bigol:^, and 
wicked disturbers of the peace of the church, for refusing obe- 
dience to demands whieli no human governor has a right to 
make, and asserting a liberty guarantied by the great charter 
of the kingdom of God ? 

But ihe Puritans did not consider the Common Prayer Book, 
in all its parts, a matter of indijfertnre iji tUetf, and lo be 
reeisted only because it was imposed hy the secular power with- 
out warrant from tlie Scriptures. While they freely acknowl- 
edged that God might be acceptably worfihiped by forms of 
prayer, they regarded this particular book as unsuitable for public 
worship, and as a. grievous burden upon their <»)n sciences. The 
.grounds of tlieir objection to the use of this liturgy were, thai it 
V was taken from the Roman Mass Book, which had been Ihe 
means, in their opinion, of tilling the church with idolalr}' and 
'/superstition, and though purged from some of the greater 
abominations of the mass, could not be used without sanctioning 
the idolatrous woi'ship of Rome; that it claimed for human 
rulers unlimited power to decree rights and ceremonies for the 
church — a power which obviously belongs to Christ alone, aa 
the I<ord and Lawgiver of the church ; tlml it set a|iart many 
holidays, and instituted feasta whiuh were enforced in the spirit- 
ual courts by civil penalties ; that it annexed human ceremonies 
to certain jwris of worship which savored strongly of idolatry, 
and therefore not to be tolerated in the church, as the surplice, 
the sign of the cross in baptism, kneeling before the bread 
and wine in Ihe Lord's supper, etc. Kneeling at the sacrament 
was especially otfensive to them, becaitse it was a tieslure re- 
quired by the Papists as an act of adoration, the object of which 
was the real body of Christ, guppose<l to be present in the bread 
and wine. "The mass," says John Drury, *' is the greatest idol 
in the world, and the act of kneeling was brought in at the 

EPA£i>. Ixvli 

Popt»h comrauaion to worship that idol. We ought not to 
«jmboli£e witli Ibeui in that art of worsbip ; we oaght not to fbl- 
lUe corruption of an unlinantrc when we have Christ's pnicticfl 
■Bmlf? known to us. It is not lawful to mix the acts of God's true 
^Worship with the chief act of an iJol worehip. such as is kneeling 
at the maa», For the meaning nnd purpose of kneeling is adora- 
tioa ; lh« slijeet of iiilarution is the body and bluud of Ciirisl, 
ipposed lo be in the element!). But if we believe no eucb real 
{nrscneo &s ihey hnve fancied, then wc make void the object of 
Mdorntion, and canaequentlj' the act intended towanis it is dls- 
■nnalled also." * 

We Ma, (hen. that conformity was not a question at mere ex- 
pediency, but of right and wrong^, of obedience and sin. ** Wei> 
■re not," eaid our fathers, "to dissemble iviih God nor men. 
Oar separation were needless and sinful, if we did not consider 
confurmily unful in some degree. And in that cose, to pntclicB 
it is to tell the world, if sinwriij be left among men, that w€ 
jKcouni it nil lawful or tolerable lo us, though not simply eligible. 
We therefore dare not, by practice, violate our consciences, and i- 

dwtroy our avowed principles. Nor will persons of wiy can- 
dor and Christian charity tbink this a humor of opposition ; for 
Ibrr know that among us have been, and nre, meu of sober 
ninds Mid tried integrity; men of good sense and learning; 
of grcDi ability and usefulness in church and state ; men 
who relished tdso the comforts of iheir life nnd families as others 
who greatly valued an opportunity of serving their 
^neralion, nnd thfir dc-ur Redeemer in tlie gospel niinisiry ; men 
•bo would not for trifles enpose themselves lo poverty, contompt, 
icnrity. prisons, merciless Suns, eiile, and death itself. This 
we a bumor indeed." t 

It Is tad lo contemplate the intolerant and oppressive measures 
part of the church against another, and to wit- 
IM tbs caUmiious eflecls which resulted from the persecuting 

y." • Modil of Cfaarch Gavcrnnienl. pp. 40, «1. 1648 
( Letter of Noncanformiag MinliMn, p- T. ITOI. 


Bpirit of those times — the fines, imprisonments, biuiishments, 
deaths, bj which the faith and patience of the saints were so 
severely tried ; but at the saaie time it ia instructive and consol- 
ing [o direct our thoughts to what time has shown to have been 
4the ultimate design of Providence, in permitting those disastrona 
scenes to exist. A new world was to be created. A pure 
church was to be planted far away from the enormous corrup- 
tions and abuses of old Christendom ; and persecution was to 
people the wilderness with a chosen generation, — a. royal 
priesthood, — who should worship God io the spirit, and magni- 
fy the divine law by holy obedience. 

The authors of the Epistle dedicatory to Sliepard's Clear Sun- 
shine of the Gospel upon the Indians of Kew England have 
given a beautiful expression to this thought : " That God, who 
oflen makes men's evil of sin serviceable lo the advancement 
of the riches of his grace, has shown that he had merciful ends 
in the malicious purpose wliich drove our fathers from England. 
As he suffered Paul to be cast into prison, to convert the jailer; 
to be shipwrecked at Melita, to preach to the barbarians i so he 
suffered their way lo be slopped up here, and their persons to be 
banished hence, that he might open a passage for them in the 
wilderness, and make them instruments to draw souls to him, 
who had been so long estranged froiu him. ... It was the 
end of the adversary lo suppress, but God's to propagate, the 
gospel ; theirs to smother and put out the light, God's lo com- 
munieaie and disperse it to the uttermost corners of the earth. 
. . . And if the dawn of the morning be so delightful, 
what will the clear day be? If the first fruits he so precious, 
what will the whole harvest be i* If some beginnings be so full 
of joy, what will it be when God shall perform his whole work, 
when the whole earth slinll be full of the knowledge of the Lord, 
as the waters cover the sea, and east and west shall sing together 
the song of the Lamb ? " * 

* Clear Sunabine, Prerace, pp. 3, 1, 


■- Sh.'piuJ at Mr. Weld's, — Dr. Wil«oti'i lector*. — Nalott of n iM- 
:aresliip. — Mr. Khcpard rcque9t«d bj ibe minisKn of Eiiex 10 accept 
[ho lecture. — Lectun catablUhed for three ye«rs at Enrles^olne. — 
V\nt ttnueo. — Method of pncvhiag. — EITect of bu miaitlij. — Oppo- 
M •riw*. — I^ftare tnmsfBiTed to Towcester. — Continues to preach 
I M EariU'Calnc — SDmmoned to London hj Bishop Land. — Interview 
with ihc bi9bo|i, — Silonivd. — Charnclcr of Laud. — Slodies the subject 
tt eonronntlf at Eartc*-Cotne. — Laait cnmi^A into Ibo County of Euex. 
— Second interview wUh the bishop. — Commanded to leave the plnct:. 

Sucit, a« Imf been d<^8('ribed in the preceding chapters, was 
be rcli^us oomlilioD of England, und such the prospecl^ o( : 
louR young men who desired lo devoCu ihemselves to the work 
f the ministry, at the time when Thotnas Shepard vas waiting 
~ at Mr, Weld's, iti Esses, for hts maater's degree, " soljdloiu 
what would become of him." But while he was thus waiting ia 
pNitirut suspense, the Lord waa in secret preparing a place and a 
Wurk tor him ; so lliai when he wa^ ready and prepared to en- 
ter Dpon ikii eluHen employment, he was unexpectedly called to 
preftch the ^^1 under circumstances mo^jl favorable to his use- 
fiilu««, (hough Dot in a way to gratify a worldly ambition, or to 
AwakL-n hope of proferment in the national establishment. 
Ju*l nl this time. Dr. WiUon, a pious physicinn, a brother, it is 
*uppo*«H), of John Wilson, nnenvarils pii^Ior of the Rnl church 
it) Itofion, hod resolved lo e.'^tuhli.tli a lecture in some town in 
that county, wiili nn income of thirty pounds a year for its raain- 
tenaocc — » lecture which Mr. Weld and several other ministers, 
with the concurrence, m it appears, of Dr. Wibon, urged Mr, 
Khrpord to accept, and lo "set it up in a great town in £smx,\ 
cmUed CugihikIL" 

In order to uademland the position and duties of a lecturer, 
at that {leriod, aa distinguished from the office and work of a 
clergyman, it may be nccef^nry to give a brief account of the 
future of tbe lectures here referred to, and of the circumalMiOM 


Jo which Ihey had their origin. " Many paria of ihe coontry," 
aays Carlyle, " being thouglit by tlie more zealous among llie 
Puritans insufficiently supplied with able nnd pious preachers, a 
plan vas devised, in 16'24, lor raL«ing by subdcriptiori, among 
persons grieved at the state of malters, a fund for baying in such 
'lay impropriations' as might offer themselves, for supporting 
good ministers therewith, in destitute places, and for otherwise 
encouraging the ministerial work. The oi'iginaior of ibia scheme 
was Dr. Preston, a man of great celebrity and iiifiiience in thoae 
days. His scheme was found good. 'Jlie wealthy London mer- 
cbanla, almost all of tbcm Puritans, look it up, and by degrees 
the wealthier Puritans over England at large. Considerable 
. ftmda were subscribed for this object, and vested in ' Feoffees,' 
who afterwanb made some noise in the world under that name. 
They gradually purchased some adrowsons, or impropriations, 
■Qch as came to market, and hired, or assisted in hiring, a great 
many lecturers. These lecturers were persons not generally in full 
priest's orders, being scrupulous about the ceremonies, but io 
deacon's or some other orders, with permission to preach, or 
■lecture,' as it was called, whom, accordingly, we find lecturing 
in various places, under various conditions, in the subsequent 
years; ofVen in some market town, on market days, on Sunday 
afternoons as supplemental to the regular priest, when he might 
be idle, or given to while and black surplices ; or as ' running lec- 
turers,' now here, now there, over a certain district. They were 
greatly followed by the serious part of the community, and gave 
pro|}ortionat ofiense in other quarters. In a few years, they had 
risen to such a height that Laud took them seriously in band, and, 
with patient detail, hunted them mostly out; nay, brought the 
Feoffees themselves and their whole enterprise into the .Star 
Chamber, and there, with emphasis enough and heavy damages, 
amid huge clamor from the public, suppressed tbem." * 

The lecture of Dr. Wilson, which Mr. Weld and other Pu- 
ritan minbtera of Essex were anxious that Mr. Shepard should 

• Letters and S]ii«chcs of Oliver Cromwell, i. 50. 


■ccept, was one of the kiDd here described. Of so much im- 
porlimce did thej deem this lecture, and so much confidence did 
fiiey feel in Mr. Shepard's pieiv, and ability to render it useful 
to the people, that they set apart a day of fastiog and prayer for 
the purpose of seeking diriiie direction &s to the place where it 
should be estidilished. Toward the evening of that day, thej 
began to consider whether Mr. Sbepard should go to Cogshall or 
to Hjme other lown in that region. Moat of the ministers were 
in favor of establishing the lecture at Cogahall, because it was a 
town of considerable importance, had great need of evangeli- 
cal preaching, and was, so far as they knew, the only place 
where it was especially desired- Mr, Hooker, however, objected 
to this [idaee, on the ground that Mr. Shepard was altogether loo 
jnung and inexjierienced for such a work at that time ; and ^ 
moreover that the clergyman of Cogshall was a cunning, malh^/ 
cious old man, an enemy of the Puriuuis, who, although he was 
•ppanmtly in favor of having a lecture established there, jet 
would lie likely to give a young and inexperienced man, like Mr. 
Shepard. n great deal of trouble ; remarking, in bis quiet way, 
timt it was always " dangerous and uncomfortable for little birds 
to Imild under the nests of old ravens and kites." 

While the ministers were actually engaged in discussing this 
•abject, the people of Earles-Colne, a lown in the same county, 
having lirxrd that a free lecture was to be established some- 
whare in tlie county of Essex, and Ijclieving that it would be a 
great blessing to that "ix>or town," sent a deputation to Tar- 
Hug, where the ministers were assembled, who arrived just as 
the qui-slion «:ls about to be decided, with an urgent request 
the lecture might be established tliere for three years, that 
time lo which its continuance in any place was limited : 
il waa presumed by the founders ihal if the lecture Was 
I of doing any good, its beneficial inHuence would 
nanlfeet within three years, and then, if it was taken away, 
people In a populous town would he willing to maintain it 
; but if, on the other hand, no good was accomplished 
Ib M kng a time, it would be a waste of the funds to continue it 


in (hat place any longer. Tn tIcw of this earnest, and, as it 
seemed, providential application, the ministers felt somewhat aa 
Peter did, when, al^er anxiously meditating upon tlie vision he 
bad seen upon the house top, the messengers of Cornelius pre- 
sented themselves, with a request which he interpreted as a 
divine iutimation of his duty. They nt once decided that the 
lecture should go to Earlcs-Colne ; advising Mr. Shepard to 
accept this provideolial call, and if, after preaching; there a vrhile, 
he found the people favorably disposed toward him and desirous 
of his services, to remain in that place during the time fixed for 
the continuance of the lecture there. 

Mr. Shepard saw clearly that it was his duty to comply with 
the advice of his friends. This appointment opened to him r 
door of usefulness earlier and iDore effectually than he had an- 
ticipated, without, at the same time, subjecting him to many of 
those annoyances to which the regular miuisCers were constantly 
liable; and though the salary connected with this lecture was 
small, it was sutHcicnt to enable him, for the present, to subsist 
with comparative comfort. It was a very hopeful undertaking. 
And it waa no small lienor for one who, in bis own opinion, was 
"bo young, so weak, inexperienced, and unlit for so great a 
work," to be called into this difficult service " by twelve or six- 
teen Judicious ministers of Christ." He moreover regarded it 
N as a manifestation of divine goodness, never to be forgotten, that 
when he " might have been cast a 
without the help of any ministry" 
"sent to eome gentleman's house, ti 
in it," the Lord shouhl place him it: 
VIE., Esses, and locate bim " in the midst of ibe best ministry 
in the country, by whose monthly fasts nnd confei-ences " ho 
found much assistance and eacourngemont in his aiiluous work. 

Accordingly lie resolved to go to Earles-Colne. After taking 
his degree of master of aria, in 1627, and receiving deacon's 
orders, "sinfully," na he afterward thought, of the Bishop of 
Peti'rborough, he repaired to ihe scene of his future labors. 
He was cordially welcomed and entertained by a Mr. Cosins, a 

Y upon some blind place, 

' about him, or have been 

) be corrupted with the sins 

a Ihe best county in Hnglniut, 


schoolmaster in the town, " an figed, but a godly u>i cheerful 
Chrutian," ihe only person, indeed, in ihe place who Beeined (o 
fcave " anj godliness," by whose counsel, sympathy, and coop- 
crulion, the fipirit of the young and timid preacher was greatljr 
nfresbed and sirengihened. Ilia first sermon was upon 2 Cor, 
T. 19, and was so acceptable to the people, that ihey united in 
giving him a Torroal inciuiion in writing to remain and leclura 
lo ihem agreeably to the terms of his appointment. From thii 
Bnanitnily and eacnestness, so unusual in lb(Me times, he inferred 
ihiU it w» tlM< Lord's will that he should labor in that plao«. 
S(iU he wae fearful that be should not be suffered by the supe- 
rior powers lo pursue his work in peace. In order, therefore, to 
■void molcalalion from that c|uaner, he "sinfully," according to 
his own subsequent interpretation of the act, procured a lic«nae 
lo officiate as a lecturer, from the register of the Bishop of Lon- 
don, before his name and character were much known — a liceuae 
which, for a lime, enabled him to preach without hinderance oT 
•uspicion un the jiart of the bishop and his officers. 

Hr. Shepard entered upon hi£ work at Karles-Colne with 
peat seal- His sole abject in preaching was, according lo the 
given lo the apostle, to turn his hearen " from dark->. 
fight, and from the power of .Salan unio Giod." In order 
mplish this end most effectually and speedily, he endeav* 
first of all, U> " show the people their misery;" next, lo 
exhibit ■* the remedy, Jesus Christ ; " and finally, lo show " how 
Ibey should walk answerable lo his mercy, being redeemed by 
Christ." This course of preaching, accompanied, as it evideollj, 
VH, by a suM:«re, earnest, and prayerful spirit in the preacher, — V' 
* the Lord putting forth his strength in my extreme weakness," 
•^sixm begHH lo produce the most Imppy results. The people 
kho bod walked in darkness, and among whom [here seemed to 
be but one uutn who "hail any," vrvm enlightened in 
;ct lo the distinguished doctrines of the gospel, and many, 
in Enrles-Colne and in ilie region around, were converted. 
)t valuable fruits of his ministry were the iwo 
of lir. Utflakondon, Richard and Roger i the iMIer of 

Vini, i 


whom came to New England with his spiritual father, and was 
of great service to him in his labors here. 

Such a minislry as this, lifting up its voice like a trumpet 
amidst the smooth preaching and dead formalism of the cliurch, 
showing the people their Iransgression, and making them feel their 
misery, roiild not, at that period, be long lolei-alcd by the ruling 
powers. " Satan began lo rage." The commissaries, registers, 
and others, began to threaten the faithful preacher, bdiing it for 

s„' granted that be was a " nonconformable man," whose mouth must 
■be stopped ; though at that time, not having studied the subject 
of conformity, he " was not resolved either way, but was dark in 
these things." But notwithstanding the violent opposition that 
arose on all sides, " the Lord, having work to do in the plikce," 
sustained him, " a poor ignorant thing," against all the thrcaten- 
ings of the commissaries, and the " malice of the ihiiiistei's round 
about," and " by strange and wonderful means," kept him in the 
field until the work was done. 

When the three years for which the lecture had been estab- 
lished at Earles-Colne were expired, the people, having Icurtit 
to appreciate the blessing of n faithful ministry, were unwilling 
to part with the instrument of so much good, and at once raised, 

' by subscription, a salary of about forty pounds a year, to induce 
him to remain with them. This unexpected movement satisfied 
him that it was his duty to continue his ministrations in llint 
place i and, as the lecture must be transferred to some other 

! town, he used bis influence lo have it established at Towcester, — 
the place of his birth, — "the worst town in the world," in his 
opinion, believing that he could confer no greater beneSt upon 
hie "poor friends" there than by sending to them a faithful 
preacher of the gospel. Dr. Wilson consented lo Mr. SheparJ's 
proposal, and Mr. Stone, afterwards the able colleague of Sir. 
Hooker, both at Cambridge and Hartford, was sent with ihe 
lecture lo Towcester, " where the Lord was with him," and many 
souls were converted by his faithful ministry. 

Mr. Shepard continued lo preach at Earles-Colne for about 
six months aller the transfer of the lecture to Towcester; when 



llie Elorni, which hnd been long galliering, bursl upon him, and 
drove Lim from his work in lha.t place. Laud, Laving succeeded 
Buncroft at Bishop of London, began to look sharply afler 
lhe»e lecturers, and to enforce entire conformity to the estab- / 
lished ceremoniea witli a rigor beyond that df any of his prede- 
wssors. It was not likely that such a man as Shcpard could 
long e<:ca[>e persecution, when a very worlliy minister was called 
'hetare the Court of High Commission, anJ seveitly censured for 
Inerely expressing in a sermon his belief that the night vrns 
spproeching, because "the shadows were su much longer than 
the body, and ceremonies more in force than the power of god- 
liness." Accordingly, on the I6lh of December, IGSO, Mr. Shep- 
ard was summoned to London, like a culprit, to answer for his ' 
vondact at Earles-Colne. The bishop did not ask him whether 
le had ggbscribtd, or was willing to subscribe and conform, but 
taking it for granted Uml he was an obstinate Nonconformist, 
after abusing Dr. Wilson for setting up a lecture, and the 
lecturer Ibr daring to preach in his diocese, forbade the fur- 
tter exercise of his ministerial gifls in thnt bishopric ; and 
ircalened the poor man with a speedy and violent 
if he attempted to preach any where else. 

between the haughty bishop and the humble 
r ia best described in the Inngunge of the sufferer him- 
Aj Boon as 1 came in tiic morning, alwut eight of the 
cloct, falling into a fit of rnge, he asked me what degree I hod 
■■ken in the university. I answered him that I was master of 
■fU. He nsked of what college. I answered, of Emmanuel. 
Be asked how long I had lived in his diocese. I oniiwered, ihree 
jears and upward. He asked who maintained me all thia 
Vhile, charging me to deal plainly with him. abiding, withal, that 
lie had been more cheated and equivocated with, by some of my 
•ultgmuit faction, than ever was mnn by JesuiL At the speitking 
•f which words he looked as thuugli blood would have gushed out 
•f bit face, and did shake as if he had been haunted with an ague 
tl, to my apprehension, by reason of his culreme malice and 
Kcret venom. I desired him to excuse me. He fell then to 

' inicrrupli' 



threaten me, and wiihal to bitter railing, railing me all to 
nought, sajing, ' You prating coxcwnb, do you lliink oil the 
leomlog IB in your brain?' He then pronounced his sentence 
thus: '1 charge you that you neither preach, read, marry, burj-, 
or exercise any minislerial tunetioD in any part of my diooL'se ; 
for if you do, and I hear of il, I'll be upon your back, and follow 
you wherever you go, in any pari of the kiugdoui, and so ever- 
lastingly disenable you.' I besought him not to deal eo in regard 
of a poor town. And here he stopped me in what I was going 
I on to say. ' A poor town ! You have made a company of eedi- 
^ tious, factious bedlams ; and what do you me <^ a poor 
town ? ' I prayed him to suffer me to catechize on the Sabbath 
days in the alYernoon. ITe replied, ' Spare your breath ; TU have 
no such feUows prate in my diocese. Get yon gone ; and now 
make your complaint to whom you will.' So away I went; and 
blessed be God that I may go to IIiu." 

Nothing can exceed the sbameful violence and brutality of the 
bishop but the meekness and humility of the defenceless victim. 
" The Lord saw me unfit and unworthy to be continued there 
any longer," — this is his own self-condemning language respect- 
ing the oppressive treatment which he bad received from a nar- 
row-minded and unfeeling nuui, — " and so God put me to 
^Uence there, which did somewhat humble me; for I did think il 
^/was for my sins the Lord set him iliiis against me." 

Tlie character of Laud, wlio holds a prominent place in the 
history of those times when good men were treated worse than 
felons for refusing to conform to human ceremonies in the wor- 
ship of God, has been very diflurently drawn by the friends and 
tlie enemies of the Pui'itans, In the flattering portrait by 
Clarendon, be appears as an angel of light, and with the beauty 
of a holy martyr; in the rough sketch of Prynne, whose colors 
were mixed up with his own blood, he ia represented as one of 
the most hateful incarnations of the spirit of evil. We must 
make allowance for the sweeping expressions of men whom the 
bishop had caused to be set in the pillory, cropped, branded with 
Lot irons, imprisoned, fined, and banished, for the sate of what 



they Terilj believed lo be the cause of truth. But aflCT making 
ftll Decessary allowance, it seems iai[)05sible lo regard him with 
any feeling but that of detestation. When we read Shepard'a 
descripilon of the manner in which he silenced one of the moat 
pious, humble, and promising young men in the church of Eng- 
land at that time, — a description which probalily would have 
answered for many similar »cenca, — we can not wonder tliai 
Winthrop sltoiild call him " our great enemy," or that Shepard, 
ft>r{)idden, tike the apostles by the Jewish rulers, lo " s|ieak at 
all, or lo teach in llic name of Jesus," should represent him ns 
**a man fitted of God lo be a scourge to his people." Laud 
ma bom tn 157^, at Reading, in Berkshire, niid educaled at 
8l John's College, Oxford, of which he subsequently beciime 
th« president, and llie munifii;ent patron. He was made Bishop 
of Sl David's, iu Wales, in 1621, — afterward Bishop of Lon- 
don, — and finally, upon llie death of Abbot, in 1633, Arch- 
iMsbop of Canterbury. There was, indeed, as Fuller says, 
•neither order, office, degree, nor dignity, in college, church, 
nor imiversily, but he passed through it," and in every station 
be exhibited the same overweening partiality for the ceremonies 
gf the rhurch, and the same bitter hostility toward the Furi- 
tstw, who would not bow down to his idol. If he was not, as 
Shepard calU him, " a fierce enemy of all righteousness," he 
was certainly tlic avowed enemy of the most righteous person; 
in the church, and a cruel jieneculor of every one who ehowed 
fay his life tlint he preferred the power of godliness I 
nremuny. He had a xeal for the e^^lernab of religjoajrhich 
eonsumed tlie spirit of piely, and an umbition to increase hIie 
pgliticaLpowet of llm church which did not hesilaie to tram- 
ple t)|M}n the most sacred rights of man. He was evidently s 
man of a narrow uitellect and a bad heart. He wa$ envious, 
paaiionata, vindictive, cruel, and implacable. In the Htar 
Chamber he always advocated the severest measures, and 
faseil more vinegar ihun oil into all ceniiures " against 
«ictinu of church authority. *' For this individual," utya an 
iter, "we entertain a more unmiiigaied 




tUau for any other chnrader in our history. His mind had not 
eKpanHioD enough to comprehend a greal scheme, good or bad. 
Ilia oppressive acts were nol, like those of the Earl of Straf- 
ford, [larU of an extensive system. They were the lasuriea 
in whii:h a mean and irritable disposition indulges itself from 
day to day — the esce^ses natural to a little mind in a great 
place. While he abjured iLe innocent badges of Popery, he 
retained all its worst vices — a complete subjectioa of reason to 
authority, a weak preference of form to substance, a childish 
passion for mummeries, an idolatrous veneration for the priestly 
1 charncler, and, above all, a stupid and a ferocious intolerance."" 
\ It is only necessary to add thut, afler inflicting upon the dcfense- 
\less Puritans all the evil in hii^ power, he died a violent death, 
being beheaded, upon a charge of high treason, on the 10th of 
January, 1645, in the seventy-second year of his age. He as- 
cended the scaffold " with a cheerful countenance, imputed by his 
friends to the clearedneii, by his foes to the tearedneu, of his 
conscience. Tiie beholders that day were so divided between 
bemoaners and insullcrs, that it was hard to decide which of 
them mode up the migor part of the company." t 

Having been thus unexpectedly silenced, and forbidden to 
preach or to perform any ministerial act within the realm of Eng- 
)■' land, with no means of subsistence, with no employment, with no 
hope of being able to promote the cause which he had most at 
heart, with the withering sentence of the bishop upon him, Mr. 
Shepard seciued to be really in au evil case. But though per- 
secuted, he was not forsaken ; though cast down, he was not 
destroyed. The Harlakcudons, some of whom had been the 
subjects of renewing grace under his preaching, showed their 
'i affection and gratitude by affording him an asylum in their hos- 
/ pilablo mansion, and were " so many fathers and mothers " to 
■ him. The people of Earle^-Colno, also, mindful of the good 
which had boen done amouo; them by his faithful labors, were 

* MacBuls^'g Essays, I, 10, M 
t Fuller, Cliurcti llistoc?, book s 


desirous ihni lie should remain in the place, nnd were ready lo 
. eonlribule lo his comfort, tliough he could bo of do service to 
them as a minister of the gospel. Here he remained about 
HX months ; and as he waa shut out from all active employ- 
Bent, lie improved his enforced leisui-e in looking more carefully Y 
IBIo ihe order of worship to which he was required to conform 
,-^a subject respecting which he tiful until now been undecided. 
The more he studied, the more clearly he saw " Ihe evil of the 
£nglish ceremoniea, cross, surplice, and kneeling," and the less 
diB|)osvd to adhere to a church ihat made conformity to such 
things an tndispeneahle condition of its fellowship, and used ils 
powirr so tyrannically against all who hod conscienlious scrupliig 
sbout them. 

Mr. Sliepard'S course in relation to lliis matter was not at all 
[, sbigular. Many of the most distinguished Puritans of that time, 
( and of a somewhat later (leriod, were, for a while, undecided re-' 
apectiog their duly as lo the ceremonies, were willing to conform lo 
niany things which ihey could not nliogether apjirove, were great- 
ly <ljsu'«sse0 ftl Ihe idea of separating from llieir mother church, 
vliieU, with all her faults, still retained, suhstanlially, the true 
r Chrialkn doctrine. This was Philip Henry's slate of mind. 
K Be was dlspowd lo remain in the church, and to conform as fnr 
Bu poMible ; but the Ircaiment he received convinced him that 
r tlie a«.*uinplion of human authority in matters of religion was a \y 
Lfrcat evil, and maile him jiruciicelly. though not nominally, an 
I Il>de|>cn'Ienl.* In bis Dian- for February IC. 1673, the following 
• occurs : " Mr. Leigh at chapel. Discourse at noon uot 
lllogcihcr suitable lo the Siibbaili, concerning ceremonies ; hut 
lething said in public led to il, vix., llmt the magistrate bath 
E fowcr in trajiosing gtilart» and mtartM." So Baxter, one of 
I'llie most candid nnd conscienlious of men, was driven farther 
■-jand farther from the English church, by the doctrine, so cruelly 
■'fvdaced to practice, that Ihe state tuis the right to lix the mode 

• Lttun on lb* Foriuiu, by J. B. Williirat. 


in which men bIi!iU worship God. and hy Ihe impudent jilea of 
" men'a good, and Ihe order of Ihe church," ia JuEtilication of 
ads of inhumanity and unchnrilablenese.* John Corbet, (be 
author of " Self-employment in Secrel," wlio was turned out of 
his living at Bramshot, in Hampshire, was another whom violent 
and compulsory treatment compelled to study the subject of con- 
formity with great care and impartiality. Many parts of con-, 
formiiy, eays Baxter, he could have yielded to, but not ail, and 
nothing less than ail would satisfy the hishops.t 

While Mr. She|)ard vns thus engaged in examining this sub- 
ject, which had become one of vital importance, and forming his 
views of duty in relation to the ceremonies, his old enemy, 
Bishop Laud, coming into the country upon a visitation, and 
learning that he was Btill at Earles-Colne, cited him to appear 
before the court at Feldon ; " where I appearing, he asked me 
what I did in the place. I lold him I studied. He asked me 
what. I lold him Ihe fathers. He replied, I might thank him 
for that : yet he charged mc Id deport the place. I aeked him 
whither pliould I go. To the university, said he. I lold him I 
had no means to Buhsist there. Yet he charged me to depart 
the place," It was at this visitation thai Mr. Weld, who hod 
been suspended from his ministry about a month before, was 
formally excommunicated, and thus, to use the bishop's eKpi«a- 
sion, " everlastingly disenabled," Mr. Rogers, of Dedham, was, 
at the Bame time, required to subscribe ; and, as he could not 
conscientiously do ibis, he was, like a multitude of other pious 
and faithful ministers, suspended and silenced. 




It. Shi-pird obliged U> Ic&ve EsrIeB-Colne, — B»hop'a viaiLation at Dnn- 
morc. — Hr. Shcpard and Hr Weld talk of (roioe to treland. — Srcne at 
llnnmorE. — Mr. Weld arralod. — Hr. Shcpard flees from the pUcc. — t 
Inrilcd to act ai chaplain iu the fumilT of Sir Richard Darloj. — Joumej 
iuut Yorkshire. — Slate of Sir Richard's familj'. — Fint leriDon nt Buc- 
Irrcranibc. — Marriage of Mr. Alured. — EBect of his sermnti upon this 
o«-ajinn. — Marries Margnrot Touteville. — Removes to Heddon. — 
EfiVct of Ills preaching at Heddon. — Silenced bj BichupNeile. — Pint 
fhild bom. — MoliTes to emigrate lo Htw England. — Ruolrcs to teate 
KagitoA. — Engages paauge in the Hope. — Shiii detuned. — Plan is 
KTcat Bhepard and Norton. 

It was now eridenl ihal Mr. Shepard'a work Ht Earles-Colne, 
viiere lie had first l>ei:ome acquainted with the burtlea and the 
jjor/ of ihe cro»s, was finished ; and that he muat prepare for a 
flfnedj departure, if he would escape the efiet^ts cf the bishop's 
inatioii. But whither should lie go? There were no means 
tt feubftiBlcDce I'or him at the universily. He could do longer 
prcAch in the diocese of London ; and he had been threatened 
with persecution if he attempted to preach any where ebe in 
England. But tie was undtr the guidance of a Providence in 
vfaoie wiadom he could implicitly trust ; and during ihb tryiiig^j 
•eene hi« mind »eeme to have been kept in perfect peace with re- 
spect to the queaiion where he should go, and what he should do. 
The situation of cliapliiin in a gentleman's family, in Yorkshire, 

I been offered to him ; but he was unwilling lo leave his 
prc54Mit post until actually forced away by circumatunces which 
'be could not controh These circumstances hod now occurred ; 

1 be was watching for the indications of the divine will in 
Khtiion to hJK future course. 

A few days after he had been peremptorily commanded by 
^^Ib MUJiorlty which he could not resist, to leave Eiirles-Colne, 
IHm bifhop waa to hold a visitation in Dunmore. in Essex ; and ^ 
Mr. Weld, Mr. Daniel Rogew, Mr. Ward, Mr. Jtiirshall, and j 


Mr. WTiarloii, all Blanding iu jeopardy every hour, " consulted 
together, nhelhcr it was best to let such a swine root u[) God'^ 
'i^lants in Esstix, and nol gire him some check." In what way 
they expected to gire " a clieck " lo such a man as Land does 
not appear ; but it was agreed upon privulely, at Brainlree, that 
they would speak lo the bishop, and, if possible, to arrest tiiis 
work of devastation, 

Mr. Sliepard and Mr. Weld, traveling together to the place 
where the bishop was to hold his visitation, discussed the expe- 
ls dieiicy of emigrating lo New England. But, upon the whole, 
they concluded that it would he belter to go by the way of Scot- 
land into Ireland, and eudeavor lo find there u place where they 
might safely and profitably exercise their ministry. When they 
came lo the church where the bishop was to preach, Mr. Weld, 
who had been already excommunicated, slopped at the door, 
not being permitied to stand within consecrated walls ; hut Mr. 
Shepard, upon whom the anathema had not yet been pronounced, 
went boldly iu. Sermon being ended, Mr. Weld drew near to 
hear the bishop's speech, supposing that, as divine service was 
over, even an excommunicated person might listen lo an ordinary 
address. He was, however, mistaken. The bishop saw him, 
and, turning upon him with his accustomed violence, demanded 
why he was " on this side New England," and how he, who, by 
excommunication, had become a heathen and a publican, dared 
to stand upon holy ground. Sir. Weld meekly pleaded in ex- 
cuse, that, if be had sinned, it was through ignorance, and begged 
to be forgiven. The bishop, however, was not in a forgiving 
mood, and Mr. Weld was committed to the pursuivant, and 
bound over in the sum of one hundred marks, to answer, before 
the Court of High Commission, for the crime of desecrating a 
church by his presence, as "an example" and a warning lo all 
such persons in future.* 

While this shameful scene was being enacted, Mr. Shepard, 
coming into the crowd, beard the bishop inqairiag about him, 

• Clironicles of MiiBsachiiaelts, 52a, note. 

E OF TUOitA.s, siiEi'AEiu. Izxxiil 

Mid found lluii llie pursuivant, having arrested Mr. 'Weld, was 
■Miix'ioas to get liold of Lis companion, as the worst of the two. 
Sereral persons who were friendly lo Mr. Shcpard, bearing liia 
pronounced, und seeing that (he bishop had resolved to 
make " an example " of him also, urged him to retire without 
delay ; but, as he hesitated, and lingered upon this dangerous 
ground, Dot knowing what to do, a Mr. Ilolbeech, a pious school- 
master of FeUted, in Essex, seeing Ids danger, seized him, and 
drew him foreibly out of tlie church. Tliis was no sooner done 
apparitor called for Mr. Shepard, and, as he was no 
'Where lo be seen, the pursuivant was sent in haste lo And and 
But Mr. Uulbeech, who seems to have had more 
energy and presence of mind upon tliis occasion than his friend, 
"hastened our horses, and away we rid as fast as possible; and 
SO tb« l^rd delivered me out of the hand of that lion a third 

Mr. Sliepard was now a fugitive, not from justice, but from 
tfae savage offlcers of that most iniquitous Star Chamber, in y- 
vhich, if no fault whatever could he proved, it was ruin to a 
person and purse to l>e tried. He hud, aa has been suid, 
Veceived an invitation (o act as chaplain to a gentleman's family 
in Yorkshire, which he had declined lo accept until the bishop 
actually driven him away from Earles-Colnc. Soon aRer 
^ flight from Duiimore, he received a letter from Ezekiel 
Sogers, then living ni Rowley, in Yorkshire, renewing this invi- ^ 

in, and urging him lo come into ilukt county, where lie would 
tw "fur from ihe hearing of the malicious Itishop Laud," who 
fed ihrealened hira, if be preached any where in his diocese. 
The family referred to was that of Sir Ricliard Darley, of Bul- 
n the north riding of Yorkshire. As a compensation 
r bis tervipes, ihc knight olfensd to l>oard and lodge him, and 
e two sons of Sir Richard, Henry and Richard Darley, prom- 
Ited, tor their part, a salary of twenty pounds a year. Tho 
lltiera, moreover, which he received from Yorkshire, pr«scnlcd 
1 inducement of a higher nature, for ihey came " crying with 
•t voice of the man of MacedoniH, ' Come and lielp us.' " Un- 

Ixsxiv LIFE 

del" these circumstances, Mr. Shepard could not be doublfal as 
Id the {)alh of duly, and lie resolved lo " follow the Lord lo bo 
remote and slrangc a place." When he was ready lo depart, 
Sir Riclinrd considerately scirt a man to be his guide in a jour- 
ney whicli, at that lime, was not only tedious, but somewhat 
hazardous ; and with " much grief of heart," he " forsook Kssex 
and Earles~Colne, going, as it were, he knew not whither;" and 
the afTeclionale people, who had for a season rejoiced in liis 
light, " Borrowing most of alt for the words which he spake, 
that they should see his face no more-'V/ 

In this journey he had occasion to remember the Saviour'g 
words, " Pray that your (light be not in winter." They traveled 
on horseback, and were five or six days upon the road. The 
weather was cold and stormy. The rivers in Yorkshire were 
much swollen by the rains, and hardly passable. The ways 
were rough, and on several occasions the travelers were in great 
danger. At last they came to a town called Ferrybridge, on the 
lUver Aire, " where the waters were up, and ran over the bridge 
for half a mile together." Here they hired a guide to conduct 
them over the bridge. " But when be had gone a little way, the 
violence of ihe water was such, that he first fell in, and after him 
another man, who was near drowning before my eyes, Where- 
upon my heart was so smitten with fear of ihe danger, and my 
head so dizzied with the running of the water, that had not the 
Lord immediately upheld me, and my horse also, and so guided 
it, I had cerlainly perished." They had proceeded but a short 
distance upon the bridge, when Mr. .Shepard fell into the river, 
but was able to keep his scat upon his horse, which, being a 
very good one, with great eflbrt soon regained his fooling upon 
the bridge. Mr. Darley's man, also, in his efforts to save Mr. 
Shepard, fell in, and was near drowning, bat at last extricated 
himself from his perilous situation. After much diflicutiy, they 
reached a house upon ihe opjioslte side of the river, where they 
■■ changed iheir clothes, and " went to prayer," blessing God for 
_ «^'' this wonderful preservation." He looked now upon his life 
A new existence granted to him, which he " saw good reason 


to give u|i unlo God and his service. And Iruly llie Lord, that 
bad dealt oaljr gently with me before, now began to nlfilcl me, 
and to let me Bee how good it was to be under his tutoring." 

lie on Saturday evening when they reaebed York. 
Sloppiog only for some slight rcfreshmeat. ihey went on to 
Butiercnuube. (he seat of Sir Ritbiird, about seven miles far- 
ther, where, at a late hour, very wet, cold, and weary, ibey at 
The reception which Mr. Shepard met at the 
bouse of Sir Richard Darley was in one respect all that he could 

nniicipaled; for all his wants were promptly attended to, 
■nd he woa lodged in the " best room in the house." But the 
religious condition of the family, and the manner in which he 
found some of its members employed near Subbath morning 
when he arrived, must have been more chilling lo his heart than 
oold min had been to his frail body. To his utter astonish' 
iDent and dismay, he found '' divers of them at dice and tables," 

learnt, with unspeakable sorrow, that, although he was ex- 
pe<-(ed lo preach on the morrow, no preparation hud been made 
lo receive him "nsbecomeih saints," lie wns hurried to his lodg- 
ings, and on the next day, worn out with the fatigue of a per- 
Bnus journey. Hid at heart, and almost dead with despondency, 
be prenchvd his fir!>l sermon in that place; with what effect is 
known, but can easily be conjectured. It is not strange 
that wliile he was comfortably provided for in external respects, 
be should feel tliat he had folleu upon evil days, and that he N 

so sunk in spirit as about this lime." For he v 
BOW far from nil his friends, lie wnj< in a "profane bousi 
where there seemed lo be no fear of God. He was in a " Vile, 
Wicked town and country." He was " unknown and exposed U> 
wrongs," He felt " insuflicienl lo do any work;" and, to 
Kndcr his situation as comfortless as possible, "[he lady was 
dturliah." Yet even here he was not altogether forsaken and 
■JcMbte. The lady might treat him contempiuousiy, but 
IBir IticUard was kind; and he found in the house three 
lervanls — Thomas Fugill, who was one of the prin- 

letaers of New Haven, in IG38,— llulh Buebell, after- 

VUL. I. /l 



wards married to Edwtird Milchenson, bolh of whom came to 
New England, and were members of (lie cliurch in Cambridge,-— 
and Margaret Toutevillc, a relative of Sir Richard, — by whose 
kind altcntions the unexpected trials to which he was eipoEed 
were in some measure alleviated. 

Soon after Mr. Sliepard became a resident in this familj', the 
daughter of Sir Richnrd Darley was married to " one Mr. 
Alured, a most profane young gentleman," upon which occasion, 
Hccording to custom, a sermon was required from the chaplain. 
This was the comraencenienl of what may be called a revival in 
that "profane house." Under the discourse, "the Lord first 
touched ihe heart of Mistress Margaret with very great terrors 
for sin and her Chrislless estate." Immediately other members 
of the family, among whom were Mr. and Mrs. Alured, began ' 
to iD(]uire what they must do to be saved. These convictions 
resulted in hopeful conversion ; and the whole family, if not 
eavingly renewed, were, at least, thoroughly reformed, and 
brought to the regular performance of external dulies, Thia 
seems to have been tiic liniit of Mr. Shepard's success in that 
place. For although Mather says that God qtiickly made him 
instrumental of a blessed change in the neighborhood, as well as 
in the family, — the profanest persons thereabouts being touched 
with the efficacy of his ministry, and prayer with fasting suc- 
ceeding to their former wildncss, — yet Mr. Shepard himsell', 
who best knew the results of his preaching, declares that while 
most of the members of Sir Richard's family were converted, or, 
at least, greatly changed, he knew of " none in the town, or 
about it, who were brought home." 

While Mr. Shepard was thus faithfully laboring to enrich this 
family with the blessings of the gospel, the Lord was preparing 
for him one of the greatest of earthly blessings — a pious and 
devoted wife. For three years, while he resided at Earlea- 
Colne, he had made it a subject of earnest prayer that the Lord 
would carry him to a place "where he might find a meet yoke- 
fellow." His pmyer was now answered. He found in Marga- 
ret Toutevillc — then about twenty-seven years of age — a 


woman every nav snileil to aid him in his arduous wor^. She 
" a most humble woumn," — "a very didceming Christian," 
amiable and holy," — "endued with a verj sweet spirit of 
prayer," — and upon the whole, " the best and the lillest person 
ia the world" for each a man as Shepard. Sir Richard, with 
Ilia whole family, favored the conneclion, not only giving their 
cordial consent to his union with their kinswoman, but generously 
increasing her marriage portion ; and in 1G33, ailer a residence 
nt about a year in the family, be was hnppily married to one, 
ho, in his '' exiled condition in a Etrange place," and in his 
lurdships and dangers, was ever to him an "incomparably 
loving " and faithful wife. 

Mr. Shepard now found it expedient to remove from Butler- 
crambe. His wife was unwilling to remain in Sir lUchard'a 
iainily after her marriage ; and besides, it soon became impos- 
■ible for him lo continue his labors in chat place, for Bishop 
Keile, a rigid ceremoni&list, coming to York and hearing of him, 
peremptorily forbade his preaching there any longer unless he 
would subscribe, which, with his conscience now becoming fully 
enlightened, he could not do. At this crisis he received an invi- 
tation lo preach at Heddoii, a town in Northumberland, about 
five miles from Newcastle upon the Tyne. It was a poor place, 
■nd afforded but little prospect of a comfortable subsistence. 
was the only Geld of labor open to him at that time ; and 
M Ihe people were anxious to obtain his services, — especially 
IS there he would be far from the residence of any bishop, a 
WMtter of the greatest importance to a preacher who could not 
■nbscribe, — be resolved to go. Accordingly, accompanied by 
Alured, be went lo lleddon, not without painful apprehen- 
t of danger from the eHorls of his enemies, and bis " poor 
fall of feora." But all bis fears were not realized. He 
iperienced, aa h« expected, some hardiibip and inconvenience ; i 
^t lie fonnd aome kind Christian friendK, among the most vnlu- 
of whom were Mrs. Fenwick, who gave him the use of a 
«, and Mr*. Sherboume, who contributed largely to his 
Hia labors iu Heddoo, and in the adjoining town*, 


were abundunt, and accompanicij by the divine blessing. Man}' 
of his henrers were converted t auil those who iilrcady loved the 
truth were greatly strengthened by his vigorous piety and en- 
lighteniDg ininbtry. (le t'ouiid linie also to study more thorough- 
ly the subject of church government and order, and lo form hU 
opinions more fully in relation to the ceremonies, and the "un- 
lawful standing of bUhopa." He thus became more and more 
sensible of llie great errors of the established church, and better 
fitted for the work of building up the tabernacle of God in the 
wilderness, to which he was Eoon lo be called. 

After preaching at Heddon for about a year, he removed — for 
what reason is not known — to a Deighboring town. But he wm 
soon forced to leave that place by a clergyman who came with 
authority to forbid his preaching publicly any longer. In this 
new and unexpected trouble, n.pplication was made by hia friends 
to Slorton, Bishop of Durham, for liberty to continue his ministry 
among them ; but the bishop, although he seems to have been 
disposed to grant this request, acknowledged that he dared not 
give his sanction to the preaching of a man whom Laud had 
undertaken to silence. Mr. Shepard therefore went fi-om place 
to place, and preached wherever he could do so without danger, 
until nt last he was obliged ta confine himself lo private expo- 
sition in the house of Mr. Fenwick. During this dismal and 
trying season, his first child, whom he named Thomas, was born, 
— the mother having been in great peril for four days, through 
the unskillfulness of her physician. To have been deprived of 
such a wife in that "dark country," and when he was struggling 
with innumerable ditliculties and dangers, would have broken his 
spirit, and the Lord mercifully spared him this aHltctioo. But 
the shadow of such au evil falling upon Lim amidst nil his other 
-virials humbled him in the dust, reminded him of all his delin- 
quencies and broken resolutions, drew liim nearer to God, and 
excited him to greater diligence and faithfulness in bis great 

Mr. Shepard !iad now been "tossed from the south to the 
of England," and could neither go brtfaer in that direction, 


■ preach llie gospel publidj where he wa*. He therefore 
, began to consider ihe case of conscieDce, frequently put bj the 

u-tjTS in tbc blood; days of Queen Mary — whether it waa 
' his duty to abandon his country nllogelher, and seek in a new ^ 
world not only a refuge for himself, but a place where he might 
labor securely, and with liope, for ihe advancement of the Sa- 
viour's kingdom. The ihoughls of many pious persons in Eng- 
land had, tor some lime, been turned toward this country, where, 
it was believed, the Lord nas about lo plant the gospel, and to 
CBtablisii a pure church. Collon. Hooker, Stone, and Weld, the 
{ntimate friends of Mr. Shepard, together with many of their peo- , 
pie, had already fled to New England ; and many others werev 
preparing to follow ihem into the wilderness, where they could 
rship God aiM.'ording lo his word. Under these circumstances, 
Mr. Shepard " begun lo listen lo a call lo New England." 

For taking this decisive step he saw many weighty reasons. 
lie had no call to any place in England where he could preach 
e gospel, nor any means of subsistence for himself and family. 
He Haw many pious people leaving their country, and going 
forth, like Abraham, they knew not whither, at the call of God 
•nd conscience. He was urged by those who had already gone, 
1 by many who wished lo go to New England, to abandon a 
eouDlry where he cottld no longer be useful as a minister of 
Christ, and aid ihem in their holy enierpriae by his wisdom and 
piety. He " saw the Lord departing from England when Mr. 
Booker and Mr. Cotion were gone," and anticipated nothing but 
ry if he were left behind. He was convinced of the evil of 
the ceremonies, and of Ibe inexpediency, if not the sin, of mixed ^ 
BDBuaunion in the socnuncnlB of the church as then adminiS' 
Icreil, while at the some lime he deemed it " lawful to join with 
them in preaching." He felt it to be his duly to enjoy, if possi- 
ble, the benefit of all God's ordinances, and to seek them in a 
breign huid, if they could not be found at home. He was exposed 
D line, imprisonment, and all manner of persecution, and be saw 
BO divine command to remain and suffer, when the Lord bad - 
providentially opened a way of escape. He regarded, however. 


not BO much his own persona] qciiel and safety ns " (he gloiy of 
vtUose litierties in New England," which the people of Godscemud 
about to enjoy, and the influence which he might exert in secur* 
ing and defending lliem. It was urged by soine who did not wish 
to eraigralc, thai he might remain in the north of England, and 
preach privalely ;■ but he was convinced that this would expose him 
to danger, and he waa not satisfied that it was hia duty to hazard 
his personal liberty, and the comfort and safety of bis family, tor 
what waa by alt claseea deemed a disorderly manner of preach- 
ing, when be might exercise liis talent publicly and honorably in 
New England. Finally, be considered how sad a thing it would / 
be, if he should die, to leave his wife and child in " that rude ' 
place of the north, where there was nothing but barbarous wick- 
edness," and " how sweet it would be lo leave them among God's 
people," however poor. 

Thesf considerations appeared t« him of sufflcient weight to 
justify his speedy departure, " before the pursuivants came out" 
to render his escape impracticable. And afterward, when the 
removal of the New England Puritans was spoken of, by some 
of their brethren at home, as a treacherous and cowardly flight 
from the duty of suffering, the same reasons, eubslantially, were 
assigned by him, in his answer to Ball, as a complete vindication 
of their conduct. " Was it not," he says, "a time when human 
worship and inventions were grown to such an intolerable height, 
that the consciences of God's jicuple, enlightened in the truth, 
could no longer bear them? Was not llie power of the tyran- 
nical prelates so great, that, like a strong current, it carried ev- 
ery thing down stream before it? Did not the hearts of men 
generally fail them P Where was the people to be found that 
would cleave lo their godly ministers in their suETcrin^, but rath- 
er thought it their discretion to provide for their own quiet and 
safety ? What would men have us do in such a case ? Must we 
study some diijtinciions lo salve our consciences in complying 
with go manifold corruptions in God's worship? or should we live 
without God's ordinances, because we could not partake in the 
corrupt administration of them ? It is true we might have 


Buffered ; we might easily have fouciii (he way to have filied the 
prisons ; and some had iheir share iu llicse suSeriogs. But 
whether we were called to this when a. wide door of liberty waa^ 
•el open, and our witnesses to the truth, through the malignant 
policy of those times, could not testify openly before the world, 
but were smothered up in close prisons, we leave to be consid- 
ered. We can not see but the rule of Christ to his apo»tles, and "^ 
ihe practice of God's saints in all ages, may allow us this liberty 
A well as others — to fly into the wilderness from the face of the 
dragon. The infinite and only-wise God bath many works to do 
D the world ; and, by his singul&r providence, he gives gifts to 
Its servants, and disposes them to his work as seems unto him 
best. If the Lord will have some to bear witness by imprison- 
nl, mutilation, etc., he give-s tliem spirits suitable to ihia work, 
1 we honor ihem in it. If he will have others instrumental to 
promote refornialion in England, we honor them, and rejoice in 
iheir holy endeavor, and pray for a blessing upon Ibem and their 
labors. And what if Goil will have his church built up also in 
these remote parts of the world, that his name may be known to 
the heathen, or whatsoever other end he has, and for this purpose 
will send forth a company of weok-hcarted Christians, who dare 
not stay at home to suffer, why should we not let the Lord alone, 
Mid rejoice that Christ is preached, howsoever and whereso- * 
ever ? " • 

Having fully resolved to leave England at the first favorable 
opportunity, Mr. Shepard took leave of his friends in the north, 
where he had labored fur about a year ; and in the beginning of 
June, 1 634, accompanied by his wife, child, and maid servant, he y. 
left NewcAstlc st^ereily, for fear of the pursuivants, on board a \ 
«oal vessel bound to Ipnwich, ibe principal town in Suffolk. He 
naini'd a short time in Ipswich, first in the family of Mr. 
RuMell, and then with his friend Mr. Collins, both of whom 
Vrro afterward prominent members of the church in Cambridge. 
From Ijlawieh he made a journey to Earles-CoUie, where he 

• TnaliM of ijturgiM, Pref pp 4-6. 


lived very privately in the family of Mr. Harlakeiidon, (Vom 
whom lie received every attention which hiii forlura situation rc- 
quii'ed. Here he passed the eummcr of 1634. This period, in 
which he was "so lossed up and down," having no permanent 
place of residence, and being obliged to keep himself (xincealed 
from the notice of the hishops, he found " the most uncomforiable 
and fruitless to his own soul especially," that he ever experi- 
enced. He tlierefore longed to be In New England as soon as 
pOBsible i and, as a number of friends, among whom was John 
XortcD, were preparing lo emigrate at the dose of that sum- 
mer, he determined to accompany them. The ship in which 
Itbey expected lo sail was the Hope, of Ipswich, and the time 
fixed for their departure was the early part of September. 
Although the season n-aa so far advanced that Ihcy must arrive 
on the bleak coast of New England toward the beginning of 
winter, yet as dangers thickened around them, — as the master, 
Mr. Gurling, was an able seaman and very friendly to the emi- 
grants, — as the hhip was a large and good one. — and as they 
were assured by the caplain that he would certainly sail at the 
lime appointed, — they were wilUng lo encounter the perils of 
the voyage at that season. 

All necessary arrangements having been made, Mr. Shepard 
repaired, with his family, to Ipswich, for the purpose of embark* 
ing. The ship, however, was not ready to sail, and they were 
detained six or eight weeks beyond the lime agreed u|)on. The 
company were now in great perjdesily and distress. The win- 
ter was rapidly approaching, and the \'oj'i^e becoming every day 
more dangerous. They were surrounded by enemies, and con- 
stantly liable to be discovered and arrested by the savage pur- 
suivants. Some of them feared lliat this detention might be a 
divine chastisement sent upon them for " rushing onward too 
soon." Mr. Sbepard was for b while in great heaviness of soul, 
and had many fears and doubts in relation to ibis enterprise. 
He had gone too far to relinquish the voyage, and the only al- 
ternative was to proceed ; but from that time he resolved " never 
to go about a sad busiiicss in the dark, unless God's Hill, within 


■$ well as without" was "very strong, and clear, and comfort- 

While the compiiny were ihus anxiously and impatiently wait- 
ing for the ship to sail, Sir. SUep4ird find Mr. Norton were kmd- 
ly concealed and provided for in the house of a worthy man, 
who exerted himself nobly, and at some hazard to himself, in 
their behalf. Many of the pious people in the town resorted pri-y/ 
vateJy to these men of God for instrutrtion. At the same time 
their enemies were eagerly wateliing for tliem, and using all pos- 
■iUe mesiu to entrap and appreiiend Uiem. These hunters of 
Boub, failing in all their etTorts to draw their prey into the open 
field, and being restrained hy law from breaking into the asylum 
to which they hod Qed, at last persuaded a young man, who li^ed 
in the house where Mr. Shepard lodged, by a large sum of 
money, to promise that, at a. certain hour of a night agreed ujion, 
he would open the door for their peaceable entrance into this 
BUtctnary. The youth, who was frequently in the presence of 
ipard, and heard tlie words of grace and the fervent 
which he uttered, became deeply impressed with the 
I that this was a holy roan of God ; and lliat to betray 
him into the hands of his enemies would be a heinous crime. 
He began to repent of his bargain. As the nighl in which he v 
wu to execute his vrickcJ purpose drew near, he became greatly 
■gitaied with sorrow, fear, and regret, insomuch that his master 
noticed the remadcable change in his appearance and conduct, 
and qaestioned him as to the cause of his apparent distress. At 
fint he was unwilling to reveal the truth, and for some time 
evaded the inquiries of the family ; but at length, by the urgent 
ek{iostulatinns of his master, he was brought to confess with 
tears, that on such a night, he had promised lo let in men to 
1 I4if)rehend the godly minister. Mr. Shepard was immeiliittely 
eouveyed away to a place of safety by his friends ; and when 
9 mea came at the time appointed, the bird had escaped from 
e of the fowler. Not finding ilie door unbolted, as they 
I when they raised the latch, they thrust their staves 
r b to Ufl it from its hinge* ; but being ofaterved by some 


persons wliom the good man of iho house liad prudently em- 
ployed for tlmt purpose, they precipilittely lied, le^t they shoulJ 
be arrested and dealt with as liousebreakers.* 


Mr. Slippard sails from Harwirh. — Danger of shipwreck npon (ho snnds, — 
Mull overboard. — Windy Salurday. — PrOTiduntial liclivprance. — Goci 
on ihoro Bl Yarmoath. — Child taken sick and dies. — Feelings of Mr. 
Shepurd. — Thinks of abandooing ihe voyage, -r ErobarrMameats. — Mrs. 
Corbel l^rnisbes an asylum at Bostwitk. — Employ men t. — Writes " Se- 
lect Cases." — Goes to London. — Second cbild bom. — Escapes from ihe 
pnrsuivants — Spends ihc summer in London. — Embarks for New Eng- 
land in the Drfansc. — Ship springs a leak, — Mrs. Shepard provideo- 
tittllj saved from dcalli. — Arrival at Boslen. 

Os the ICth of October, 1634, Mr. Shepard and his friends 
Bailed from Harwich, a seaport in Essex, at the mouth of tlie 
Kiver Stour. Thej had proceeded but a few leagues, when, the 
wind suddenly changing, they were obliged to ca^t anchor in a 
very dangerous place. The wind continued to blow ali night, 
and, OR the morning of the 17lh, became so violent that the ship 
dragged her anchors, and was driven upon Ihe sands near the 
harbor of Harwich, where she waa for some time in the moat 
imminent peril. To add to their distress, one of ihe sailors, in 
endeavoring lo execute some order, fell overboard, and was 
carried a miic or mure out Ic sea, apparently beyond the reach 
of any human aid. The ship and crew were at that moment in 
so much danger, that no one could bo spared lo go in search of 
him, if, indeed, the boat could have lived a moment in the sea that 
was breaking around them ; and when the immediate danger to 
the ship was over, no one on board supposed that the ]>oor man 
was alive. He was, however, discovered floating apou the 
waves at a great distance, though it was known that he was not 
able to swim ; and three seamen put off in the boat, at the 

f Johnson's Wonder- working Providence, ch. S9. 


fcaianl of iheir lives, to save him. When they reached him, / 
Uicagh he was Aoaiing, — supported, a^ it were, by a divine \/ 
hand, — he exhibited no signs of life; and huving laken him 
oo board, they laid him in ilie bottom of lltc boat, supposing 
a to be dead. One of the men, however, was unwilling to 
e up his shipmate without using all the means in their power 
fer his resugeiiaiion. Upon [urning his head downward, in order 
let the water run out, he began to breathe ; in a few moments, 
mder such treatment as their good sense suggesle<l, he was nblu 
' to move and to speak ; and by tlie lime they reached Ibe ship, he 
bad recovered the use of his limbs, having been in the water 

■e tliaa an hour. This incident is interesting mainly on lie- ~ 
eouiit of the proph etic use that was made of it by one of the pas- 
•engei^ probably either Mr, Shepnrd or Mr. Norton, tn his efforts 
to encourage the desponding' eompitny. "This man's danger and I 
vcrance," said he, " is a type of oun. We are in great dan- ' 
ger. and yet the Lord's power will be shown in saving us." ■ 

The event eorresponded to the prediction, and (he strong faith 
of the man of God, like that of Paul, in his stormy voyage to 
Borne, was rewarded by the deliverance which it confidently ex- 
peeied. The ship, that was driving rapidly toward the shore, and 
actually touching the sands with her keel, was, by some means, 
turned about, and beaten back toward Yarmouth Roads, " an 
[>en place at sea, fit for anchorage, but otherwise a very danger- 
is place." Here they came to anchor, and hoped to ride out 
tfiv gale. But on Saturday morning, October 18, the storm 
felcreascd in violence, and the wind from the west blew with 
iSncb destructive fury, that the day was long known among the 
'^habitants of tlie coast as the Windy StUurday. Many vessels 
Terc owl away in this storm ; and among them the collier which 
trought Mr. Shepnrd from Newcastle, the captain and all hia 
nm being losu When the wind arose, the anchors were thrown 
out; but the cables parted immediately, and the ship drifted rap- 
idly toward llie sands, where her destruction seemed inevitable. 
The master gave up all for lost, and the pns.<engera resorted to 
pmycr. Gum were fired for lutsislniice from the town i but, 


'although thouMinds were spectators of their danger, and Ur;^ 
rewards were offered lo any who would veiiiure their lives to 
iave the p!i£sengers and crew, ^'et so dreadful was the sionn that 
that DO one (»uld be prevailed upon to volunteer in this service. 
It was known among the erowd that gazed from the walls of 
Yarmouth upon Ihi.'i terrible secne, ihat the ship was full of 
Puriinn emigranls, and therefore a peculiar interest was felt in 
the catastrophe which seemed to await her — some fervently 
praying ihat the Lord would deliver his people from (he danger 
that threatened them, and otliers, probably, impiously rejoicing 
in their anticipated deslruclion. One man, an officer of some 
kind, ventured to give expression to the feelings which were 
cherished by many. With a spirit of prophecy somewhat like . 
that of Balaam when be was constrained to bless with his moutti 
the people whom he cursed in his heart, he scoflingly exclaimed, 
that he "pitied the poor collier in the road," — referring lo the 
coal vessel in which Mr. Shepard had sailed from Newcastle,— 
"but for the Puritans in the other ship he felt no coneero, for , 
(lieir faith would save them." 

And their faith — or rather the Lord in whom they trusted, 
and for whose glory they had encountered perils by sea as well aa 
*/ by land — did save them, in a retnarkable way and by unex- 
pected means. The captain and the sailors had lost all presence 
of mind; and believing that the storm was preternatural, and 
that the ship was bewitched, they made use of the only means of 
escape they could think of, whieh was nailing two red-hot horse* 
shoes to the mainmast as a charm.* But there was ou board a 
drunken fellow, " no sailor, though he had oAeo been to sco," 
who had taken it into hia head to accompany these pious people 
to New England, to whose cool judgment they now, under God, 
owed their deliverance. Instead of nailing horseshoes to the 
mast, he advised Ihat it should be cut away, as the only pos- 
sible method of saving the ship. The captain and the crew, be- 
wildered by terror, were incapithle of listening to advice; and 

• Juhmon, Uift, N. Eng. th. 29. 

t lasl Cock. — for tliat was the man's name, — assuming the 
lesponsibilit}', called for hutcheta, and encouraging Ihe company 
ind Ihe seamen, who were " forlorn anJ hopeless of life," lliey 
eut the maste by the board, just nt the moment when all had 
{iven themselves up for lost, expecting " to see neither New nor 
Old Engl&nd, nor faces of friends any more." 

When (he mast was down, a email anchor, which remained, 
•US thrown out ; but it being very light, the ship dragged, and 
continued lo drift rapidly toward the shore. The sailors, aup- 
pcKing that ilie anchor was gone, or that it would not hold, 
pmnled to Ihe devouring sands, where so many vessels had been 
Ingulfed, and bade the passengers behold the place where their 
^nres should shortly be. The captain declared that lie had 
e all that he could, and de.iired the mini^teri to praj for help 
ftum above. Accordingly, Mr- Norton, wiih ihe passengers, two 
hundred in number, in one place, and Mr. Shepard, with tht / 
■larinera upon deck, " went lo prayer," and committed their 
" M>ul« snd bodies unto the Lord that gave them." Immediately 
afler prayer, the violence of the wind began to abate, and the 
1^ riiip ceased to drift. The last anchor was not lost, as they 
thought, but was dragged along, plowing the sand by the vio- 
lence of the wind, which abating afler prayer, though still violent, 
'■the ship was stopped just when it was ready to be swol- 
laved up of the sands." They were still, however, in great dan- 
ger, fur the wind was high, and though the anchor bail brought 
Ihe ship up, yet the " cable was let out so far that a little rojw 
brld the cable, and the cable the lillle anchor, and the lit- 
tle nochor the great ship in this great slorm." When one 
of the company, whose faith was stronger than cable or 
tempest, saw how strangely they were preserved, exclaimed, 
•* Ttiat ihrcjwl we hang by " — for so he called the rope attached 
lo llic cable — "will save us." And so, indeed, it did, "the fhowing hie dreadful power, and yet his unspeakable rich 
mercy toward u», who heard, nay, helped uf, when we could not 
07, tfarongh the disconsolate fears we bad, out of these depths of 
Beat iur! miseries." This delirerancc was so great, and so moni- 
yoi- I. 1' 

feslly wrought in answer lo pr»yer, that Mr. Shepard thoughl, if 
he ever reached the shore Rgaiii, he should live like one riaen 
from ihe dead ; and he desired that this mercy, lo him and his 
family, might he rememhered lo the glory of God, by his " chil- 
dreo and their children's children," when he was deud, and could 
not " praise the Lottl in the land of the living any more." 

They remained on board during the night in comparative safe- 
ty, — ihe Btorm continuing to abate, — hut in a very coraforlless 
condition. Many were sict, ''' many weak and discouraged," and 
there were " many Bad hearts," On Sabbath morning, October 
19, ihey went on shore. The Puritans were very strict in iheir 
observance of the Sabbath ; and Mr. Shepard thought that they 
were in too much haste to leave the ship, and that they ought to 
have spent the day on board in praising the Lord for his signal 
interposition in their behalf. But there were many feeble per- 
sons among them who were unable to engage in religious exer- 
cises, and had need of refreshment on shore ; and besides, they 
were " afraid of neglecting a season of providence in going 
out while they had a calm ; " for they were held, as it were, 
by *' a thread," and if the wind should rise again, they might all 
find their graves in the sand^. Mr. Shepard and his family Ictl 
the ship in Ihe first boat thai was sent from the town to lake off 
the passengers. And here ihey were visited hy a new and more 
ibitter affliction. Thej were saved from the devouring waters to 
'w smitten by the sudden and mysterious death of ibeir only 
child, now about a year old. In the passage from the ship to 
the shore, he was seized with vomiting, which no means they 
could use, although they hod all necessary medical aid at 
Yarmouth, could cheek. After lingering for a fortnight in 
great distress, he died, and wa^ buried at Yarmouth. The 
funeral was conducted very privately ; and it was no small 
aggravation of the sorrow which they felt for the loss of their 
first bom, that Mr. Shepard dared not be present, lesl the pur- 
suivants should discover and apprehend him. For as soon as 
they were ashore, says Scotlou, " two vipers- designed not only 
to leap upon the hands " of Shepard and Norton, "but to seize 

LlfE or THOMAS SnF.r&RD. X 

tlicir i)er8onB. But bow strangely preserved is not unknowc 
aoutt of 111." ■ 

in interesting to learn whftt were the feelings and exer- 
tisea of such a man as Mr. Shepard under afiUctions like these t 
for the inward experiences of such minds turnbli great lessons 

la. There whs no murmuring under the rod. The feeling of V ,■ 
lits heart wo.* thai of a loving child kindly chastised by a ten- v 
der father ; and be saw in every blow a manifestation „. 
divine love, and a corrective of his waywardness. As if the ^ 
Iiord "saw that these waters were not sufficient to wash away 
tny sinfulness, be cost me into the fire. He showed me my 
weak faith, pride, carnal content, immoderate love of creatures, 
r my child espedally, and begat in me some desires and 
purposes to fear his name. I considered how unfit I was to 
to such a good land as New England with such an un- 
mortilied, hard, dark, formal, hypocritical heart; and therefore ''i 

wonder if the Lord did thus cross me." He even began to 
fear — such was his tenderness of conscience, and desire lo^ 
walk in nil the commandments and ordinances of the Lord 
bloindcss — that his affliction came, in part, for "running too 
titr in a way of separation from the mixed assemblies in 
England," though this, of all his sins, must have been the 
inallesi, for he did not forsake tiie church until he was driven 
from it hy arbitrary force ; and ho always believed and de- 
dared — what none of the Puritans ever denied — that there 
I "true churches in many parishes in England," and also 
true minislcr» of the gospel, whose preaching he never refused 
to hear when he had opportunity. 

One effect of these afflictions — the sudden death of his only 
child, and the tremendous storm which seemed like a frown of 
I Providence upon their voyage — was to diminish very much his A 
>^de«ir« of emigrating to New England, and to make him almost 
willing to remain and sutTcr at home. This state of mind, how- 

• CtiroiiideB of Miua. MO, DOt«. 


e long, ^'hen be remenibercd tliaL be had 
been tooscd from one end of England lo the oihcr : that tliere was 
no place in bie niilive land where he could preach the gospel ; 
thiil, so long 06 he refused cunformily to the errors and corruptions 
of the ebureh, nothing but " twnds and afflictions " awuilcd him ; 
that a " door of escape " waa f rovidentially opened ; and Ihat, in 
this distant land, he should not only be beyond tiie reach of the 
bishops, but tind a place tvliere he might labor for the cause of 
Christ, — hia desire to emigrate revived, and he resolved that, 
as soon as practicable, lie would make another attempt to place 
the ocean between him and bis persecutors. 

In the mean time, he was in great distress, not knowing where 
to go, nor what to do. The Philistines were upon him. There 
seemed to be uo place of safety. He could neither labor for a 
subsistence, nor could his friends, without great danger, minister 
effectually to liis necessities. In this time <rf' need, — Ibe most 
trying and apparently hopeless he had ever experieJiced, — 
s^ Roger Ilarlakenden and his brother Samuel, having heard of 
Ilia escape from the dangers of the sea, and of worse dangers to 
whiclk he was still exposed upon land, visited him, and refreshed 
his spirit by their sympathy and assistance. While casting 
about where to spend the winter that was approaching, Mr, 
Bridge, minister oi' Norwich, kindly offered him an asylum in 
his fiunily. But a Mrs. Corbet, an aged and eminently pious 
woman, who lived about live miles from Norwich, fearing that 
Mr. Bridge might hazard his liberty by harboring the fugitive, 
invited hira to occupy a house of hers, then vacant, at Bastwick, 
a small hamlet in the counly of Norfolk. And she not only fur- 
nished him with a house whicli " was lit to entertain any prince, 
for faimess, greatness, and pleasantness," but, in various ways, 
endeavored to render Ibe season of his detention and confine- 
nient as comfortable as possible. Here, with his wife and a few 
friends, — Mr. Harlakenden defraying the whole expense of 
housekeeping, — he passed the winter of 1634— 5, far from the 
notice of his enemies, and solaced by " sweet fellowship one with 


■.noihtT, and also with God." Nor was be idle in lliis comrort- 
ablp reireat. For, although he could not preach publicly, he J 
Gould employ his pen ftft* the instruction and consolation of bis 
afflicted friends, and, by diligent study, prepare himself for that 
wrvice lo which be n-aa soon to be called, in the new world. 
Il was during this season that he wrote the little work, lirat pub- 
lished at London in 1648, entitled "Select Cases Resolved," . 
in a letter to a pious friend, who hail fallen into doubt and diffi-^ 
cnlty resperting the questions tfaerein discussed. In tbe title 
pages of tlie first two editions, lliis letter is said to have been 
'. from New England ; but, from several expressions at tbe 
eommencr-ment and at the elose, it is evident that it was writi 
in Eng;land. and upon the eve of his departure from that country ; 
for be says, * It nay poesiblj be my dying tetter to you before 
I depart from hence and return to Him, as not knowing but our 
last disasters and sea straits, of which I wrote to you, may be 
but the preparation for the execution of the nejtt approaching 
Toyap!." And again, in tbe conclusion : " I thank you heartily 
improving me this way of writing, who have my month 
tKiftped from tpeaJnng," — a calamity which certainly never 
befell him in New England, — '' and remember, when you are 
bi^i able to pray for yourself, to look ader me and mine, a 
'all that go with me on the mighty waters; and then to Iqok up 
■nd sigh to heaven for me, that the I»nl would, out of bis free 
gnev, but bring me lo that good land, and those glorious ordi- 
nances, and that there I may but behold the lace of the Lord in 
hit temple " — a reiiuest which Ue never had occasion to make 
alirr landing on these shores. Of this letter, written in a time 
^■at trial, and coming from a mind itself needing all the ccHisola- 
tion" of friendship and religion, il is only necessary to say, in I 
)ai>guagc of lho«e who first gave it lo the public, that it is ** ?o . 
fbll of grace and truth, that it needs no other epistle commendav 
tory than itielf," and no one who desires to walk comfortably 
with God, in his general and jiarlieular calling, can study these 
■ncwerii in which aculeness, depth, piety, and Christian experi- 

ai LIFE OF Tnoiua sheparp. , 

euce are so eminently and Lappily blended, wiilioul becoming a^ 

Early in the spring of 1635, Mr. Shepard, accompanied by hia 
fi'icnd Ilnrlakenduii, went up to London, in order to make uU 
nei'cssary preparation for anotlier attempt to leave Kngland. 
During the journey, trbii^h tieema to have been Bomewhiit pro- 
tracted, he was nearly deprived of his faithful and devoted wife. 
Al the bouse of Mr. Burroug^lis, a Puritan minister, where tbey 
slopped about a fortnight, Mrs. Sbepurd, being near her confine- 
menl, " fell down from the top of a pair of sIbIfb to the bottom ; 
yet the Lord kept ber, and the child also, from that deadly dan- 
ger." Upon their arrival at London, in the very neighborhood 
of tbeir " great enemy," Laud, and not knowing where t« hide 
tbemselvea, a Mra. Sbcrboume provided a " very private pkce" 
for them ; where, on Sunday, April 5, 1 635, their second son was 
\ bom, whom tbey named Thomas, after his brother who died at 
Yarmouth. The raolher soon recoi'ered, but the child was sickly, 
and at one time they thought he would have died of a sore 
mouth. Mr. Sliepard had more conRdence in prayer than in the 
physician's ekill ; and in the night ha was "stirred up to pray" 
for the life of the child, and " that with very much fervor, and 
many arguments;" and thus, after a sad, heavy night, the 
si Lord shined upon him in the morning, and he found the 
sore mouth, which was thought lo be incurable, " suddenly 
and strangely amended." Tliey had not been long in London 
before their hiding-place was discovered by their enemies, and 
in order lo escape from the " vipers " ihat were ready to fasten 
upon them, they renioved by niglit to a house belonging to Mr. 
Alured, whieli, providentially, stood emply. Tlie pursuiviinl!', 
who were sent to apprehend Mr. Slicpni-i), were a llltle too hile; 
for, upon entering the place where he liod been secreted, they 
found that the whole family Imd gone, no one knew whilher ; 
and thus once more the Lord delivered his faithful servant from 
Ihc snares which bad been laid for him, 

• PrtTuM to 8*l*ct Cmh R»ki1vmI. 


In the clo»eai retiremcDL, but not wiUiout much sympathy 
and mttiif tokens of love from Cbristutn friends, Mr. Shcpard and 
his familj parsed the summer of 1G35 in Londoii. Toward 
the close of the summer, — Mrs. Shepard and the child having 
Kcovcretl their slrenglb in some measure, — they began to pre- 

ire again for iheir removal to New England. The reasons 

D the yi 

> longer any place 

before still existud, 

ivbic-h liad led ihein to this deeij 
fritb perhaps increasing force ; a 

^kol, every day, that there was no longer any place or duty for 
jhem in England. Several "precious friends" were resolved, 
I waiting to sail with Mr. Shepord, among whom were Roger 
JQarUfcenden, Mr. Chnmpney, Mr. Wtlsou, Mr. Jones, after- 
ynrd colleague with Mr. Bulkley, at Coneord, besides many 
,^ous pt.'oplc who were ready Id follow their persecuted minie- 
ftr* lo the ends of the earth, in order to enjoy the gospel in its 
paiily. All necessary arrangements having been made, on the 
^Olli of August, l(i35, — a day to be remembered by the people 
4f ibis common wealib, — the company embarked on board the 
.jhip Defense, of London, eommnniled by Captain Thomas Bos- 
Mcb, and commenced their voyage, "having lasted much of 
.God's mercy in Eugland, and lamenting the losa of our native 
', when we took our last view of iL" 
Mr. Shepard, it has been said, embarked in disguise, and under 

ht assumed name of his brother, " John Shepard, husbandman." 

^nte aulhoriiy for this slalcment is found in a list of passengers 
who came over in the Defense, taken from a manuscript vol- 
, discovered in the Augmenlation Office, so called, by Mr. 
J«viig(% in ihc year 1842, which contains the names of persons 
permitted to embark at t)ie port of London, between Christmu«, 
^634, and (be same period in tlie following year. In this list 
re have, amuug oiliers, the nanu-a of John Slicpard, liui^band- 
Ua, aged tbiny-sis. Margaret Shepard, itiirty-one, and Tliotnas 
bejMXrd, three nionths. Samuel Sbepard apgiears as a so 
f Roger llarlakenden. Noiiher Mr. Wilson nor Mr. Joi] 
lentioned. though they were certainly on board ; but Sarah 
d thir^-four, with her children, i^ named among the 

passengers.* It is probable tlmt Mr. Shepaiil did embark un- 
der the name of liis brother John, ihoagh, as he was bom in 
1605, he could have been but lliirty yenrs of age nhen he came 
to this counlry, and Margaret seems to have been somewhat 
younger. We know thai great efforts were at that time made to 
prevent the ministers from leaving England. As narlj as 1629, 
Mr. Higginson, writing from Salem, exhorted his friends to come 
quickly, for if they lingered too long, " the passages of Jordan, 
through the malice of Satan, might be stopped." Cotton, Hook- 
er, and Stone, who came in 1633, wiih great difficulty eluded the 
vigilance of the pursuivants, and escaped from the country. 
Richard Mather was obliged to conceal himself until the vessel 
was at sea. In April, l<i37, a proclamation was issued "to 
restrain the disorderly transportation of his majesty's subjects to 
the colonies without leave," commanding that " no license 
should be given them without a certificate that they had taken 
/the oaths of supremacy and allegiance, and had conformed to the 
discipline of the church of England." t The danger, tlicrefore, 
to which Mr- Shepard, in common with others, was exposed, was 
great enough to render concealment desirable and necessary. 
How far any one is justifiable in assuming the name of another 
for the purpose of avoiding danger, or of doing a good work, is 
H question of cusuistry which every reader will decide accord- 
ing to bis light ; but all candid persons who become familiar with 
the character of Shepard, and with the circumstances in which 
be was placed, must he convinced that he intended to act consci- 
entiously, and that if he did not, as he confessed, belong to that 
class of martyrs to whom God gave "a spirit of courage and 
willingness to glorify him by sufferings at home," he was at 
^' least a sincere lover of truth, and foremost among those holy 
men who were prepared lo "go to a wilderness, where they 
could forecast nothing but care and temptation," for the sake of 
enjoying Christ in his ordinances, and of propagating the 

• Masi, Hiat. Coll. xxriii- SBB. 369. >73. 

t See Chronicle* of MBESochoielta, pp. SSO, 4SS> n< 


I^o^pi:! in lis divine punly. If anj tliink tliat be erred in not 
Iwldly facing the terrors of ihe Star Chamber, " let him that i 
witboul ein among them cast tlie first stone at him." 
Tlie ship in which they embarkeil was old, rotien, and alto- 
gether unfit for such a. voyage. In the first storm they encoun- 
tered, she sprung a le&k, which exposed ihetn In imminent peril ; 
and they were on the point of returning to port, when, wiih 
much diSiculty, they succeeded in repairing the daioagc. They 
iiad a filoruiy and rough passage. The infant Thomas, who, at 
^leir embarkalioD, was so feeble that the parents and friends 
feared be could not live uatil they reached New England, was 
fBucb benedied by the sea ; but the mother, worn out by constant 
aiatching, hardship, and exposure, at last look a cold, terminating 
|n consamption, which, in a few months, consigned her to an ^ 
^arly grave. Among other incidents of the voyage, Mrs. Shcp- 
trd'i miraculous preservation from " imminent and apparent 
h " ought not to be passed over in silence. In one of the 
violent storms which they experienced, she was, by the sudden 
jBTching of the ship, thrown head foremost, with the child in her 
frms, directly toward a lurgs iron bolt; and "being ready to 
':|iiU, she f«lt herself plucked back by »he knew not what," 
iwbereby botJi sh« and the child escaped all injury — a wonder- ^ 
ffi inlerpMttioD, which Ur. Shepard and others who witnessed it 
Ktid lucribv to nothing but " the angels of God, who are min- 
JMeriag eipirils for the heirs of life." 

On the 3d dfty of October. 1635, af\er fil^y-four wearisome days 
a the sea, they came in sight of the land where they hoped < 
D find KSt tmlh for the body and the soul ; and on the third they 
|Ktded safely at Doslon, '' with rejoicing in God afler a longi^oine 
greyage," and amidst the hearty congratulations of numerous 
fHenda. whose houses were hospitably thrown open for iheir «c- 
■ tioo. Mr. Shepard and Ids family were kindly pro- 
^ridcd for at ihe house of Jlr^^Coiyiiiglgn^ then treasurer of the 
■Dlony, where they remained until aficr the Sabbath ; and on | 
|fond*y, October 5, ihey removed to NewUiwn, which was to be 
r Annre field of labor and their quiet home. 



Sketch of the mrij- hiitoiy of NcirtoWD. — Organiialion of Ehe Eccond 
church in Newlown. — Death of Mra. Sl»p«ri — SiKkncBS of Thomu, 
— AnliDomiiui conlroTcrsj. — Mr. Shepsrd's position nnd itiBuenre in this 
controversy, — Krst Synod ia Newtown. — Mr. Hooker's objections. — 
Beiult of Synod. 

Newtowt*, afterward called Cambridge, wtis selected aa the 
site of a town which llie settlers intended to fortify, and moke 
the metropolis of the Maasachu setts coloay. In the spring of 
the year 1G31, Winthrop, who had the year preceding beeti 
chosen governor, ciiine to this place, and set np the frame of a 
hooac upon the spot where he flrsl pitched his tenl. The depu- 
ty governor, Dudley, completed a house for himself, and removed 
bis family, with the expectation that this was to be the seat of 
government. The town was laid out near Charles River, in 
squares, the streets intersecting each other at right angles. It 
soon became evident, however, that Boston was to be the chief 
place of commerce ; and the neighboring Indians, having ceased 
theii' hostility, and made overtures of perpetual friendship with 
the coionisis. Governor Winthrop removed the frame of his 
house to Boston, and the scheme of a fortified town here was 

Bui, though the design of making Newtown the capital of the 
colony was given up, It remained still under the especial care 
and direction of the government. The annual election of gov- 
ernor and magistrates wai), for some lime, held here ; and, in 
1632, the General Court appropriated sixty pounds, lo be raised 
by the several plantations, toward erecting a palisade about it. 
The first settlers of the town, though few in number, were, gen- 
erally, in good circumstances ; and ibey soon received a valuable 
accession by the arrival of u company, recently from England, 
who liad commenced a settlement at Braintree, but who, by 

ection of the General Court, removed to Newtowti in August, 


1632. Winthrop calls them " Mr. Hooker's company," from 
which it may be iDrerred that ibey.were from thai part of the 
county of E^sex where Mr. Hooker was seiiled. Mr. Hooker, 
however, did not come over with thiit company, and the people 
of Newtown had tu< yet no niini^ier ; but tbey erected a meeting 
bouse, preparatory to ibe settlement of the ministry and the 
ordinance of tite got-pel among tbem, feeling, as one of tbe early 
falbent reiDArks, tliat a country, however beautiful and prosper- 
itliout a gospel ministry, ia " like a blacksmith without 
his fire.'^ 

filr. Hooker, in nunpaqy with Mr. Cotlon and Mr. Stone, 

arrived in the month of September. 1633, and on the lUh of 

October following, be, with Mr. Stone for his assislani, was /"M 

orduined over the people of Newtown, majiy of whom had satVX^ M 

under his ministry in England, and after their settlement here 

bad never censed to importune him to come and take the pastoral 

charge of them. In May, 1634, the people of Newtown, being, 

■bey alleged, straitened for room, and having obtained 

kare of the Gieneral Cout^ to look out a place, either for 

extension or removal, sent several of their number to Agawam 

stid Meniiaack, to find, if possible, a more suitable location for 

growing community. Not succeeding to their satisfaction 

bi this attempt, they pe^Iioned for leave to remove to the banks 

«f the Cooneciicnt River, where they were certain of linding 

•mple territory and a fruitful soil. The subject was earnestly 

in tbe General Court for several days. The principal 

'■rgumenia id favor of granting the petition were — that the 

|ieople, without more land for their cattle, could not mainlnin 

liter, or receive any more of their friends who might 

ifce disposed to come and assist them ; that, if the fertile coutilry 

ipon the Connecticut were not speedily occupied by a colony 

MasMichuKtts, tbe Dutch or the English might take pos- 

wton of it, which would be vi-ry undesiriible ; that the towns 

the colony were located too neitr each other ; and finally, tliat 

sy were strongly inclined, and, in fact, had made up lliclr minds, 

go — a rciisoii os concltisive, perhaps, aa sny other. In 


addilion lo llie nvowed grounds of their desire to remove so 
far from the parent colony, some have ventured to ndd one 
which they never avowed, and probably never thought of, name- 
ly, thai Mr. Hooker's light would shine more brightly, and be 
more conspicuous, if it were farther from the golden candlestick 
of the church in Boston. 

On the other hand, a variety of reasons were urged againut 
their removal. It was said that, being united in one body with 
the Massachusetts colony, and being bound by oath to seek the 
..good of the commonwealth, it would be wrong, in point of con- 
Tecience, lo allow them to separate from their brelhren ; that the 
oolony was weak, and con Ion y n dan r of being attacked by 
its enemies, and therefore cou d n aff rd to spare m large a 
number of their most influ n a z lliat the departure of 

Mr. Hooker would not o y d w awa many from the colony, 
hut divert to a distant pa h xmntry friends who would 

otherwise settle here j tha by mo n^ they would be exposed 
lo great danger, from the Dutch, — who claimed the Connecticut 
country, and had already built a fort there, — from the Indians, 
and from the English government, which would not permit them 
to settle without a patent in any place to which the king laid 
claim; that they might be accommodated at home by enlarge- 
ment from other towns, or by removal to any other place within 
the patent ; and finally, that it would be the removal of a can- 
dlestick out of its place, which was a calamity by all means to 
he avoided if possible. 

■When the question was taken, the governor and two assiat- 
--' ants voted in the affirmative ; the deputy governor, together 
with the other assistants and all the deputies, in the negative. 
At this stage of the bnsineaa, a controversy arose between the 
Court of Magistrates and the deputies respecting the legal 
effect of this vote, not necessary to he described here. It is 
sufficient lo say that the proceedings of the court were brought 
lo n stand ; and so great, in their opinion, was the importance 
of the question respecting " the negative voice," which divided 
them, that a day of fiuiting and prayer for divine direction was 


•et »put by public authority. Accordiagly, the I81I1 da; of 
September was obstsrvcd by all the churches in the colony. On 
the 24th of the saiue month, the court again met at Nentown. 
Mr. Hooker was requested to delirer a discourse upon the 
i[>ortaiit occasion ; but he declining on the ground that his per- 
Mnal iateresl in the question rendered him unfit for this service, 
the delicate and difficult task was, by desire of the whole court, 
{lerfomted by Mr. Cotton. He cbose for his text Haggai ii. 4, 
from which he took occasion to descritte the nature, or the 
Urength, as he termed it, of the magistracy, of the miobtry, 
and of the people. The strength of the magistracy he asseric^ 
to be their authority ; of the ministry, their purity ; and of ihel 
people, their liberty ; showing that each of these had a negative 1 
voice in relation lo the other, and yet the right of ultimate 
ts in the whole body of the people ; answering all 
and exhorting the (icople to maintain their liber- 
ist all unjust and violent attempts to take them away. 
iscourg« gave great satisfaction to all parties- The 
court resumed its discussions in a belter and more forbearing 
■pirit ; and although the deputies were not satisBed that the neg- 
ative voice should be lefi. to the magistrates, yet the subject was 
by common consent dropped tor that lime. The re«ult was. that 
the people of Newtown, seeing how unwilling their brethren 

iluU ihcy should remove to Connecticut, came forward and 
■ceepted such lands as liad been olfered for their accommodation, 
fcy BtMion and Wnlertown. This arrangement, however, was 
MX loog aatisfaciory. The people of Newtown, having fixed 

eyes and their minds upon the fine country upon tlie Gm- 
amicm, soon began lo revive the project of removal, and many 
in thfl neighboring towns being desirous of joining them in this 
riiiiTprisr, the General Court at length gave ihem leave 10 re- 
move whither they would, on condition of their remaining under 
ibc juriiMliclion of Massachusetts. 

The place selected by the agents of Newtown was called by 
the tmiivM Suckiaug. where, toward the close of the year lli35, 
S jtvtlation WU cainmenced by a few of their number, ihe graM 

T9Ut> j 


bodj of the people, with their miDiaters, inleading to follow ihem 
duriog the ensuing year. Accordingly, eurly in the Bummer 
of 1636, Messrs. Hooker and Stone, with about one hundred 
persons, composing the whole, or very nearly the whole of the 
congregatioD, left Newtown, aod traveled through a pathless 
wilderness to the place which they had chosen as their inherit- 
ance. They had no guide but their compass. Like the patri- 
archs, they drove before iliem their flocks and herds, and fed 
wpon the milk of (heir kine by the way. After a long and 
tedious journey, ihey reached Suckiaug, on the Connecticut, and 
laid the foundation of the city of Hartford. 

Upon the removal of Mr. Hooker's congregation, Mr. Shepard 
and those who accompanied him, about sixty in all, purchased 
the houses thus left vacant, to dwell in until they should find a 
more suitable place for a permanent settlement The majority, 
however, soon became desirous of remaining at Newtown, and 
were unwilling to remove farther, " partly because of the fellow- 
ship of the churches ; partly because they thought their lives 
were short, and removals to new plantations full of troubles ; 
partly because they found suflictent for themselves and com- 
pany." They therefore resolved to remain, and without further 
delay to organize themselves into a church for the enjoyment of 
those gospel privileges which they hod suffered so much to secure. 
The necessary arrangements were accordingly made, and on the 
1st day of February, 1636, corresponding to February 11, new 
style, a public assembly was convened, and a church, the first 
permanent one in Cambridge, and the eleventh in Massachu- 
setts, was duly organized. The following account of this solemn 
transaction, given by an eye witness, is exceedingly interesting 
for the light which it throws upon tbe manner of constituting 
churclteg in the time of our fathers. 

" Mr. Sbepard, a godly minister come lately out of England, 
and divers other good Christians, intending to raise a church 
body, came and acquainted the magistrates therewith, who gave 
their approbuiion. They also sent to all the neighboring 
oburches for their elders to give their asuatance, at a certtun 


Vda/. at Newtown, when tbey should constitute their body. Ac- 
cordingly, nt thia day, there met a great assembly, where ths 
proeeeiling wa8 ai* fulloweth: Mr- Shepard anil two others — 
who were after to be chosen lo office — snt together in the 
> dderii* seat. Then the elder of them began with prayer. Ailep 
thii Mr. Sbepitrd prayed with deep cont'essioit of «in, c 
exercised out of £pb. v. 27, ' That he might present it 
•elf a glorious church,' etc., and also opened the cause of their 
meeting. Then the elder desired lo know of the churches as- 
■embled what number wore needful to make a church, and 
■fcow they ought to proceed in this action. Whereupon some of 
the ancient ministers, conferring shortly logetlier, gave answer : 
That the Scripture did not set down any certain rule for the 
'pnraber. Three, ihey thought, were too few, because by Matt, 
appeal waa allowed from three ; but that seven 
atught be a fit number. ^ And, for their proceeding, they advised 
It such as were to join should noake confession of (heir faith, 
d declare what work of grace the Lord had wrought in them ; 
which accordingly tliey did, Sir. Shepard first, then four others, 
a the elder, and one who was to be dencon, — who had also 
'prayed, — and another member. Then the covenant was read, 
i they all gave a solemn as^nt to it. Then the elder desired 
•f the cliurclie^, that, if they did npprove thcra to be a diurch, 
d give them the right hand of fellowship. Whereupon 
, upon short speech with some others near him, in 
B of their churches, gave his hand to the elder, with a 
1 of their assent, and desired the peace of the l/>rd 
! with them. Then Mr. Shepard made an exhorta' 
rest of his body, about tlie nature of their covenant, 
I and lo stand firm to it, and commended them to the Lord in a 
I BUMt heavenly prayer. Then the elder told the assembly that 
ktttoy were intended to choose Mr. Shepard for their pastor, (by 
I Ae tuune of the brother who had exercised,) and desired tho 
, that, if they had any thing to except against him, 
r would impart it to them before the day of ordination. 
1 be gave the churches thanks for their aasiataiice, and 



BO left tbem U> the Lord." " Mr. Shepnrd's onlinaiion, or 
ralher instullalion. took pitrce soon after, bai itie exact dale of it 
13 not known. It was probablj deferred, as Malher Euggeats, 
on ncrount of the lateness of the bour, and for the purpose 
of liaving ample lime for the performance of those solem- 
niliea which they thought suitalile lo such an occusion. 
, Mr. Shepard'a ministry in Newtown commenced under the 
V pressure of heavy domestic affliction. Within a fortnight after 
tlie organization of the church, his wife Margaret, who«e 
> health had been for eome time rapidly failing, was tahen from 
' him by death. It had been her great desire lo eee tier hus- 
band in a place of safety among God's people, and lo leuve 
her child under the pure ordinances of the gospel. Her desire 
was granted. Having been received into ihe feliowship of the 
church, having given up her dear child in the ordinance of 
baptism, and having witnessed the hopeful beginning of the 
vork for which she liad sacrificed all the comtbrts of life, and 
even life itself, she was enabled to say, with Simeon of old, 
" Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine 
eyes have seen thy salvation." The precious ordinances for 
which she had pined, amidst llie privations and dangers of their 
wandering life, were the means of greatly elieering her under 
the wasting power of disease, and of tilling her soul with a sense 
of God's love, which continued nnlil ihe last breath. Nothing 
can be more beautiful or touching than Mr. Shepard's reference 
to the baptism of his son, and to the early death of his " incom- 
parably loving," amiable, and pious wife — a jiassage which 
' many a baptized child may read with (ears. " On ibe 7th of 
^ February, God gave thee the ordinance of baptism, whereby God 
b become thy God, and is beforehand with thee, that whenever 
thou shall return to God, he will undoubtedly receive thee : this 
is a most high and happy privilege, and therefore bless God for 
it. And now, after this had been done, thy dt?ar mother died in 
the Lord, departing out of tbis world lo another, who did lose 
her life by being careful to preserve thiue ; for in the ship thou 

• Winihrop'* Joamal, J, 179, 180. 

wert so fet^bli: ond rrowanl both in tliE? da)' and night, that 
beretiy she losl her Htrenglh, aiic) at last her hfe. She hmh mode 
mnnj a prayer and ahed many ii tear for thee ; and thia 
faaih been ott her request, Ihnt if ihe Lord did not intend to glori- 
fy himself by thee, that he would cut thee oS by death rather 

I to live to dishonor him by sin. And therefore know it, that 
if Ihou ehalt turn rebel against God, and forsake him, and care 

for the knowledge of him, nor believe in tun Son, the Lord 
vill make all tliese mercies woes ; and all thy mother's prayers, 
tears, and death, to be a swifl witness against thee at the great 

The child to whom this affeciing ikppeal was made woa after- 
ward brought very low by a humor whiih filled his mouib, lips, 
«nd eheeks with blisters, so that it was difficult for him to take 
mlfidcnt noun'sbmeiit to sustain life. When the humor left his 
nouth, it seized upon his eyes, and in a short time he became 
» blind, '■ with pearls upon both eyes, and a white film, inso- 
nuoh that it was a dreadful sight unto all the beholders of him, and 
very pitiful." None but a father ean realize the distress which^ 
Ur. Shepard felt at tlio prospet^t tliat his only aon was to be 
blind ttirough the remainder of his life. Out he was mercifully 
■pMred this severe ailiiction. When he had became eonvinued 
lliBl he must have " a blind child to be a constant sorrow to bira 
till his death," and was made contented to ** bear the indignation 
•f llie I»rd, because he had sinned," resolving now to " feur 
nor grieve no more, but to be thankful, nay, to love the 
Lord, suddenly and strangely, by the use of a poor weak 
neans, namely, the oil of white paper," the child was re- 
Morvd to tight again, to the great joy of the father, who ; ' 
regmnled ttic cure as a gracious answer to liis earnest prayers^^ 
The umuner in which Mr. Shepard used this event lo awaken 
the gratitude of bis child, when, in atler years, he should learn 
bow woudeifnlly he had been preserved from one of the great- 
est leupunil calamjtieti, is worthy of remembrance. " Now, 


* Inlrodanloo W AaWblogiaph]'. 

consider, lay son, and remember to lift up thine eyes to heaven, 
to God, in everlasting praises of bira, and dependence upon him ; 
and take heed thou dost not make thine eyes windows of lust, 
bul give thine eyes, nay, thy heart, and whole soul, and body, lo 
him that hath been so careful of tbec when thou couldst not care 
for thyself." 

These domestic afflictions were soon followed by trials of 
another sort, which, to a minister of Christ so deeply interested 
in the prosperity of the church as Mr. Shepard was, were, 
perhaps, more difficult lo be borne with patience, and called for 
a larger measure of grace. He found that the people of God 
are exposed to " perils in the wilderness," as well as in the 
crowded thoroughfares of the world, and that Christ may 
be as deeply wounded in the house of his friends as among 
the armies of the aliens, Tlie church at Newiown had been 
organized but a short time, and bad but just bej^n to enjoy 
the liberty and the rest for which so many sacrhices had been 
made, when the peace of all the churches in the colony was Tio- 
lently disturbed by the opinions and practices of the Aniino- 
miana, which were first protnulgiiied in ihia part of the world 
by Mra. Hutchinson. As Mr. Shepard bore a distinguished 
pari in that controversy, and exerted no small influence in bring- 
ing it to A triumphant conclusion, a few words respecting ita 
origin and effects may here be expected. 

Mr. HuichinsotL, who had been an intimate friend and a great 
admirer of Mr. Collon in Englund.came to Boston, with hU wife, in 
tlie autumn of l<i3-l. Mrs. Hutchioison was a woman of amB.>^cu- 
line understanding, nnd of fiery zeal in religion. Mr. Cotton, wliom 
she held in the highest estimation and respect, said of her, at an 
early period of her residence here, that " she was well beloved," 
and that " all the i'ailhful embraced her conference, and blessed 
God tor her fruitful discourses" — a coramendation which, if the 
ever doi^rved, she soon forfeited, by her gross heiiuies in doc- 
trine and iu practice. At Ilonton she was treated witli great re- 
spect, not only by Mr. Cotton, but by other distinguished persona, 
{ whom wa» Mr. Vane, who, ia 1630, was chosen goveruor 


«f ihe colony, in the room of Winlhrop. It was natural that (be 
high consideration in which she va^ held bj the leading men in 
the church and stale should awaken her vanity, an<l give her great 

ence with the people. In imitation of the brethren of the 
cburch of Etoslon, who held weekly meetings for religious con- 
ftirence, she soon establi^hetl a meeting of women at her house, 
in obedience, as tihe pretended, to the apoeiolical precept that 
the aged women should be teachers of good things;" and 
specially that ibey should " teach the young women to be 
•ober." The novelty of this proceeding among the Puritans, 

, in obedience to another apostolical injunction, had never 
•uffered " a woman to speak in the church," together with the 
reputation of the innovator, soon collected on audience of sixty 
or eighty women at her house every week, to hear her prayers, 
her eihortationB, and her exptanaliona — seldom, probably, cor- 
Rcl — of Mr. Cotton's sermons. 

In the^e meetings, held professedly for Ihe purpose of promote 
ing the edificslion of the younger women, but designed to diffuse 
a new hght among the men also, Bfrs. Hutchinson was not long 
■atisfied to be ihc humble espoaitor of Mr. Cotton's doctrines, 
bat soon ventured to broach some opinions of her own, which, 
bwever. she pretended to conKrm by an unfair and fraudulent 
we of Hr. Coiian's authority. The fundamental position which 
the assumed, and maintained with a iierce enlbusiitsm, was, tliat 

Christian should not look to any Christian graces, or to any , j 
conditional promises made lo faith or canciilication, ad evidence '^ M 
flf God's special grace and love toward him, — this being a way 
< f wofk>, _ - — but, without the appearance of any grace, failh, holi- 
~ , or change in himself, must rest upon an absolute promise 
■Mde in an immediate revelation to his soul. In connection with 
ihia doctrine, and as the legitimate results of it, she taught that > 
Ae Holy Ghost dwells personally in a justilied person ; that the I 
camnumd to work out our salvation wiih fear and trembling is | 
addressed lo none but sut-h its are under the covenant of works ; 

pprsoniil holiness Ls nol to be regarded as n sign of a justi- 
^ei tUIe ; tbiU there u do such thing as inherent righteousneu j 

thai imraeiiiaW rovelalions respecting fiilurc evenlifare to be ex- 
pected by believers, and should be received as equally aulhorila- 
tive and infallible with tlie Scriptures ; together with many other 
absurd and foolish notions, which il would seem that none but per- 
BOBS extremely ignorant, or partially insane, could possibly believe. 

That Mrs. Hutchinson received these opinions from Mr. Cot- 
Ion, as she and lier followers pretemled, is not credible. It 
is true that Air, Cotton at one time entertained a too favor- 
able opinion of the piety and talents of this enthusiastic in- 
novator, and for a while bore no decided testimony against tlie 
errors that were dividinj; and distracting the cburchX^ The con- 
sequence was, that he was claimed by both parties in Ibis contro- 
versy ; the Aniinomians declaring that their doctrines were legit- 
imate inferences from Lis preaching, and had his sanction ; the 
Orthodox, on the other hand, affirming that he adhered to the 
common faith, and disavowed their heretical sentiments. This 
Elale of the public mind called for an open and explicit declara- 
tion of his sentiments which, as soon as lie fully understood ibe 
use mad ft a 1 n y by the Aniinomians, he made, to the 
sntisfne f h b h en, and to the dismay and disromfiture 

of the 1 re cs Ha once, as is usual in such cases, became 
the obje t h h d and reproaches of the party which he 
had seemed — a d 1 seemed — to favor. They called him a 
coward, nho dared not avow his real principles ; a double-mind- 
ed man, who taughl one thing in the pulpit, and another in pri- 
vato conference ; a blind guide, who had loi^t all insight into the 
epirit of the gospel ; and so bitter, and at the same time so vul- 
gar, was the hatred with which they persecuted the good man, 
that one of the parly sent him a pound of candles, with the im- 
pudent intimation tliat he was in " great need of light." 

tt has been sometimes said, in later times, that this Antino- 
mian controversy was a strife, a mere jargon of words, while 
the parties were really of one mind respecting jueiilieiiiion and 
sanctification. Bui a enreful eKaminalion ,wiU show that it was 
' a strife between two ditfcrent and opposite gospels, and exhibited 
totally different grounds of hope la Mimers. The Autinomiaiu 


of the worst and most dangcroas sort. By their 
oT advancing frp*; B""***! ^"7^ Shepard, tbey denied and \ 
destroyed all evidence of inherent grace in us ; by crying up ' 
Chridt, they desLroyed the me "f *'"iVi to apply to him ; by ad- 
ling the spirit and revelations by the ^picit, they destroyed ur 
weakened the revelation by the Soigtiyies ; by depending on 
Clirii't's righteousness and justification without the works of the 
htw, they difsCrnyeii the use of the lnw.a pd made it no rule of life to 
S Christian ; by imagining an evidence by justification, they de- 
Mniyed all evidence by effectual vocation and sanctificalion.v' 
Their opinions were " mere fig leaves to cover some disicmpera 
■Oi] lusts lurking in men's hearts ; " and hence it was that after they 
ngnrded themselves as once sealed, and consequently in Christ, 
nd had received (he witness, ihey never doubted, though they 
Jell into the foulest and most scandalous sins ; and to renew their 
t«peutiuice they s[>oke of, as a sign of great weakness.* 

Absurd, licentious, and destructive us these opinions were, 
tbey spread among the people with astonishing rapidity ; and 
wherever ihey took root they produced the bitter fruits of aliena- 
tion, haired, and slander- The converts to the new opinions were, 
Shepard justly called them, " the scourges of the land, and 
ihe mo«t subtle enemies of the power of godliness." By their 
eat and rect^ived truths citme to be darkened, 
Gud's name to be Uasphiimed, ibe church's glory diminished, ^ 
nsny Hodly persons grieved, many wrclcTies hardened, deceiving 
1 being deceived, growing worse and worse." They labonid 
deitruy ihc reputation of all thci>o ministers who held th«^ 
received docrrines, stigmatizing ihem as legal preach- / 
ivaru undtfr a cnvcniuit of works, who never knew^ 
CitTWt Ihenuelve.s and who could not be the iujiruroenis of , 
tringing men into the light and liberty of the gospel. They en- I 
ignorant men and women to become preachers, andV' 
j^plauded their ministrations as more effectual than that of any 
•f the " black coats " — as they contemptuously styled the re^ 

■ New EnglMwI) LamniUiioiu for Old Engtuul'i Emm, p. i. 

ulnr ministers — wlio hftd been at what they facetiously called 
Ibo " ninniversily." They opposed the marching of the troops 
that had t«eii raised lo assist the people of Connecticut against 
llie PequixU, upon the ground that the olticei¥ and soldiers were 
loo inuc:h under a covenant of works. 

In an incredibly short time, this fanatical spirit divided not only 
tbe church of Boston, but a large number of the churcbes of 
. Moasaehu setts and Plymouth. ' The people became disaffected 

J toward the ministers, and prejudiced against all their public and 
pnvale instruction. Many who had been converted, apparently 
by the instrumentality of these ministers, in England, — who 
had followed them into this wilderness to sit under their minis- 
trations, — who bod been, like the Galutians, ready to pluck out 
their own eyes, and give them to their pastors, — now forsook 
their parish churches, and greedily listened lo tbe rafings of in- 
sanity or ignorance. Some of the leading men in the colony, 
among whom were Vane, Coddinglon, and others, took sides 
with these disturbers of the peace. FamiUes, as well as churches, 
were divided and alienated. It became common, says Winthrop, 

Ni to distinguish men by being under a covenant of grace, or a 
covenant of works, as in other countries, between Protestants 
and Papists. The mischief spread into alt associations, civil as 
welt as religious, " insomuch that the greater part of [lus new 
transported people stood stilE, many of them gazing one upon 
another, like sheep let loose to feed on fresh pasture, being 
stopped and startled in their course by a kennel of devouring 
wolves. The weaker sort wavered much, and such as were 
grown Christians hardly durst discover tbe truth tbey held one 
unto another. The fogs of error increasing, the bright beams 
of tbe, glorious gospel of our Lord Christ, in the moutb of his 
minbters, could not be discerned through the thick mists by 
many; and that sweet, refreshing warmth, that was formerly felt 
from the Spirit's influence, was now turned, in these errorists, to 
a hot inflammation of their own conceited revelations, ulcerating, 
and bringing little less than frenzy or madness to the patient." " 

^^M * Wonder- working ProTideace, p. 100. 

In the midst of all this exdiement and confusion, Mr. Shep- 
[ ard continued steadfast in the faith ; and through his rigilaiKX, 
I fiuthfulness, and discriminaling miDi^tr^, ihe church of Newtown '"^ 

s preserved from the least taint of this heresy. He had been 

fntnewhat familiar with the doctrines and spirit of the Antino- 

[ sians in his younger daya, in Eugland, and he had sufficient 

"light to Me through the^e devices of men's head:)," which 

I ata.nj of his brethren, able as ihey were, wanted ; and though it 

[ wad a sad disappointment to him (o be called ao »oon into the 

I heat of controversy, and " a most uncomfortable tiine to live in 

I eontcDlion" with those who professed to be disciples of Christ, 

jti it wsd a duty he could not tibun ; and he had the satisfaction 

and the honor of being a principal instrument in bringing this 

f anhappy exciteincnt to an end, 

Od<! of llie means by which he destroyed the influence of the 
i beretics in hia own congregation was Ihe delivery of that admj- 
I fable ctiurae of sermona upon the parable of the ten virgins,'^ 
which, after his death, were published by his son Thomas, a.' 
■isted by bis successor, Mr. Mitchel. They were commenced i 
(1636. when the leaven of Familism. or Antinomianism, was mos 
powerf\iIly at work among the |>eople, and finished in 1640, when Ij I 
it was mostly purged away ; and were designed to refute the im- 
pudent heresy of that time, and establish the assaulted Irulh. 
Tbey constitute the largest, and, in some respects, ihe most valu- 
able of his works, and arc eminently adapted to expose all false 
religion, while real Christians will find in them abundant instruc- 
tion and unoouragemenl. In ibe celebrated " Treatise on the Re- 
ligious Affections," President Kdwards makes a freer use of this 
book than of any other. His whole work is pervaded by its 
■pirit, and he acknowledges, l>y nearly n hundred quotations, his 
obligations to Mr. Shepard for some of his profoundeal thoughta, 
tie render^ another important service to the colony during that 
Btonny seiuon by his election sermon. 

By the help of the pious Johnson, wo obtain a glimpse of Mr. 
Sfa«p«nl in the pulfnt, as well ns of his mode of handling this 
knoUy mbject. In tlie course of litis "dismal year of 1636," 


a pious man, who, like miin^ others, had left his native land to 
enjoy llie liberty of the gospel here, arrived in New England, 
expecting to find the wilderness blossoming as the rose under 
the labors of the able mmislers who bad preceded him; but, lo 
his amazemeot, he found the whole country in a slate of con- ■ 
fusion, and was at once addressed in a new theological language 
which was entirely tiu intelligible to him, " Take here," saya 
Johnson, in his rude, quaint cnanner, referring to this man, " the 
sorrowful complaint of a poor soul in miss of its expectniion at 
landing, who, being encountered with some of these errorists at 
his first landing, when he s&w that good old way of Christ re- 
jected by them, and ho could not skill in that new light which 
was the common theme of every man's discourse, he betook 
him lo a nnrrow Itidiau path, in which his serioua meditations 
Boon led him where none but senseless trees and echoing rocks 
make answer lo his heart-easing moan. ' 0,' quoth he, ' where 
am I become ? Is this the place where those reverend preach- 
ers are fled, that Christ was pleased to make use of to rouse up 
his rich graces in many n drooping soul? Here have I mvt 
with some that tell me I must take a naked Christ. O, woe 
b me ; if Christ be naked lo me, wherewith shall I be cloihed ? 
But melhinks 1 most wonder they tell me of casting off all 
godly sorrow for sin, as unbeseeming a soul that is united to 
Christ by faith. And there was a little nimble-tongue J woman 
among ihem, who said she could bring me acquninled with one 
of her own sex lliat would show roe a way, it' I could attain it, 
even revelations, full of such ravishing joy, that I should never 
have cause to be sorry for sin, so long as I lire ; and as for 
her part, she had attained it already, " A company of legal 
professors," quoth she, " lie poring on the law which Christ hiiili 
abolished, and when you break it, then you break your joy; and 
now no way will serve your turn but a deep sorrow." These, 
and divers other expressions, intimate unio me that here I sliall 
find little increase in the graces of Christ, through (he licni'ing 
of his word preached, and other of his blessed ordinances. O, 
cunning dcTil, the Lord Christ rebuke thee, that, under the 


■pretense of a free and tvmple gospel, shuts oul the »gul from par- 
'ilaking with the difine nature of ChrUt, in llmt mystical union of 
*ius blessed Spirit, creating and continuing his graces in the Boul. 
'■Jly dear Clirist, it was iby work that moved me hither to come, 
hoping to find thy powerful presence in the preaching of the 
word, although administered by sorry men, subject to like infirm- 
Itieii with others of God's people ; and also by the glass of the 
Ikw, to have my sitiful, corrupt nature discovered daily more and 
BK>rG, and my utuir inability lo any thing that is guod, magnilying 
hereby the free grace of Christ, who, of his good will and pleas* 
ore. worketli in us to will and lo do, working all our works in us 
■nd fur us. But here they tell me of a naked Christ. What ia 
the whole life of a Christian, but, through the power of Christ, 
la diij 10 sin, and to hre to holini^ss and righteousness, and to that 
eod to be iliLgeni in the use of nieAus?' 

"At the uttering ofthia word, he starts up from the green bed 
«f hia complaint, with resolution lo hear some one of these able 
luniftters preach, whom report hod so higlily valued, before his 
will should make choice of any one principle. Then, turning his 
. free lo the sun, he steered liis course toward the next town ; and, 
after some small travel, he came lo a large plain. No sooner 
wm he entered thereon, but hearing the sound of a drum, hu 
ms directed toward it by a broad, beaten way. Following ihb 
road, he demands of the next ni-an he met what the signal of 
tiie drum meant. The reply was made, they had as yol no bell 
to call men to meeting, and therefore made use of a drum. 
' Who is it,' quoth he, 'lectures at this town?' The other re- 
plies, ■ I see yon are a strunger, new come over, seeing you 
ktuiw not the man : it is one Sir. Shepard.' ' Verily,' quoth the 
Wher, 'you have hit the right. I am new come over, indeed, and 
have been told, since 1 came, that most of your ministers are legal 
pn^achcrs ; only, if I mistake not, they told me this man preached / 
k finer eovetmnt of works tliim the othei^. But, however, I •/ 
ahttll make what haste I can to hear hun. Fare yon well.' 
Tben, luutening thither, he crowduih through the thickest, wher« 
having suid while the glass wns turned up twice, the mao wu 

VOU L t 



cxsii Lti^t or TaouAS sHk:i-Auu. 

metamorphosed, and was Ttun to bang down the head often, Icat 
his watery eyes shuuld bhib abroad the secret conjunction of hia 
affections, his heart crying loud to his Lord's echoing answer, to 
his blessed Spirit, that caused the speech of a poor, weak, 
pale-complexioned man to take such impression in his soul at 
present, by applying the word so aptly, as if he had been hia 
privy councilor; clearing Christ's work of grace in the soul from 
all those false doctrines which the erroneous parly hud affright' 
ed him withaJ ; and he resolves, the Lord willing, to live and 
die with the ministers of New EnglanJ, whom he now saw the 
Lord had not only made zealous to stand for the truth of bis 
discipline, but also for the doctrine, and not to give ground one 

The Antinomian excitement reached its greatest height to- 
ward the close of the year 163G and the beginning of 1637. 
Though defeated at the annual election in their attempt to con- 
tinue Vane — the head of their party — in the office of governor, 
the AntinomiariB were powerful enough to menace the safety of 
the stale as well as of the churches. They were every where 
bold, impudent, and restless. Wlien they were complained of in 
the civil courts for misdemeanors, or summoned before the church 
for question or censure, they had many respectable and influen- 
tial persons to defend ihem, and lo protest against any sentence, 
civil or ecclesiastical, which might be passed against them ; and 
when they were condemned, there were enough to raise a 
mutiny agmnst the government on their behalf. Great efforts 
were made, both by magislriites and ministers, to heal this plague 
in tlie church. Innumerable sermons were preached against the 
erroneous doctrines. Conferences were held with the leaders of 
the fanatics, sometimes privately before the elders, sometimes 
publicly before the whole congregaljon, where they had liberty 
to say all that could be said in defense of their sentiments, and 
were heard with great patience. Every thing which individual 
influence could do was done to root out these pestilent opinions, 
and to restore pence to the distracted colony. 

^^H * Wonder-working: Providtnce, pp. 100-104. 


At length, when all hope of removing this evil hy the usual 
meuifl was given up, tlie GenernI Cuiirt, in cousultation with the 
ministers, determined lo call a s_vnod of all Ihe churches in Kew 
England, for the purpose uf settling this controversj, agreeably 
lo the csaniple of the primitive church, referred to in the Acta 
of (he Apostles. Three things were judged expedient as a 
neoeMarj preparation for ihie great measure ; a general fast, to 
aeek the divine presence with the synod ; a collection of all the 
erroneous opinions, amounting to above eighty, whicli it might 
be Qe<:essary i« discuss ; and u friendly conference with Mr. 
Cotton, respecting any espressions of his wliich might have 
seemed to give countenance to the errors that were troubling 
the country. 

These preparatory steps having been taken, the proposed 
■yood was convened at Newtown, August 30, 1637. That Mr. 
Shepard was a prominent agent in procuring this synod, and a 
very influential member of it, is evident from many circum- 

^- I particularly from the fact that Mr. Hooker, in April fre- 

■ddressed to him a letter dissuading him from using bis 
ita behalf. ■ " Your general synod," says Mr. Hooker, 
I em not yet see either how reasonable or how salutary it will 
be for your turn, for the settling and establishing the truth in 
that honorable way as were to be desired. My ground U this : 
they will be chief agents in the synod who are chief parlies 
in ihe cause ; and for them only who are prejudiced in Ihe con- 
troversy to pass sentence against cause or person — how im- 
proper ! how unprolilBble I My present tlioughts run thus : 
That such conclusions which are most extra, most erroneous, and 
eroM to the common current, send them over to the godly 
lewned lo judge in our own country, and return their apprehen- 
wons. 1 suppose the issue will be more uncontrollable. If any 
•hould suggest this was the way to make the clamor too great 
and loud, and to bring a prejudice upon the plantations, I should 
•oon answer. There is nothing done in comers here but it is openly 
Ibtu^ related ; and in such notorious cases, which can not be kept 
•mtM* ibe moU phun and naked rehuion ever causcth the truth. 


most to ap[M-Hr, and prevenia nil Kfoundlesaand needless jealous- 
ies, nliereb; men arc apt to make tilings mort; and nor^ than 
they are." • We hnve no letter of Mr. Shcpard in reply to 
this ; but it can not lie douLted iliat he did answer these argu- 
ments against the p ropriety of ^ determining the disputed points 
by a synod, and it was his answer, probably, that ehanged Mr. 
Hooker'a iLoughts in relation to this matter. However that 
may be, it is certain that iLe Connecticut pastor aClerward 
took a different view of the subject, and judged it expedient 
to attend the synod, and to lake a leading part in all ite pro- 

The synod, consisting of all the ministers and messengers of 
the New Enghind churches, together with a few who had recent- 
ly arrived, but were yet unsellled, was organised by the choice 
of Mr. Hooker and Mr. Buckley, joint moderators. The first 
session was opened by Mr. Shepard with one of his " heavenly 
prayers." After the organization of Ihe synod, the erroneous 
opinions which had been spread through the country, some of 
them, as Cotton declared, blasphemous, some incongruous, and 
all unsafe, together with the texts of Scripture which had been 
perverted in support of them, and certain " unsavory spceclies," 
ibat had been used in tbe heal of dispute, were read and fully 
diacuseed, and finally unanimously condemned. The synod 
continued in session about a month, and all the Antinominns, 
who desired it, had liberty to lie present, and freedom of speech, 
restrained only by the laws of order and decency. There was, 
says Shepard, " a most wonderful presence of Christ's spirit in 
that ftssenibly," and the general result of Us deliberations was, 
that, through the grace and power of Chriel, the pemicioui 
errors which had welt nigh brought the church to desolation 
" were discovered, — the defenders of them convinced and 
ashamed, — the truth eslablished, — and the consciences of the 
Bainis settled." The public condemnation of these errors, and 
the testimony of the synod (gainst tliem, were subscribed by 

• HuchlnBon'^a HiaL Mom. vuI. i. 


Bearl^ all the ministers and messengers present; but some, 
>IDong whom was Mr. CoUon, while thej' reprobated ihe leading 
doctrines of llic Antinomjiuis, anil all tlie monstrous inferences 
ft^m Ihem, as sincerely and as deeply as any members of the 
■ynod, declined subscribing the K«»ull, because subscription was 
A word of ill omen among the Puritans. The doings of the synod, 
sustained by the zealous cooperation of the ministers and the 
uninfected portion of the churches, finally resulted in the restora- 
tion of sound docti'ine and of ^^ood order among the people. 
All the cliiirehes accepted the result, and generally with entire 
vnontmity, with the exception of the church in Boston. Mr. 
Vheelwright and Sirs. Hutchinson, the leaders of the Autino- 

I parly, together with a few of tlieir followers, after civil 
and ecclesiastical process, were excommunicated, banished, or at 
least forced from the colony, (Mr. Vane baring previously 
returned to England,) not for their errors of opinion alone, but 
account of the disorganizing and destructive influence which 
: public miuutenance of those errors exerted upon the peace\ 
and welfare of the community. Many of the ignorant and en- 
thusiastic people, who had been misled by the appearance of 

icnt piety in their new guides, when those who had se- 
duced them into error were gone, returned penitently to the 
cburcbtH and the ministry which they had abandoned, and were 
rec«iTcd by their brethren into renewed fellowship, with joy and 
gratitude to God for bis healing mercy ; and Mr. Wlieelwrigfit 
bimaelf, afler seven years of banishment, publicly confessed and 
renounced his errors, and was restored to liis former standing in 
church and stale, which he enjoyed for nearly forty years, with 
the reputation of a humble and worthy minbtcr of Christ. Thu^ 
lenniiuU«d the tirst great temptation of our fathers in the wilder- 

— an eveitl which, through the ignorance of some, and the 
perrene spiril of others, has been. frequently spoken of to the 

oacfa, not of the guilty tempK^rs, but of tho^e wise and holy 
men, who, by ibe word of Uod. and prayer, cSeciually resisted 
the evil, and preserved the churches from one of the wor^l and 
BKMt deatrooive forms of errors. " And so the Lord," uja 



Shepard, " wiihin one ypsr. wrought a great changp 
haTiDg delivered [lie CQUnlrj' from war witb the Ii 
Familists, who rose and fell together." 


Mr. Shepnnl'i vigjlanrc witli rpgpcvt to the manner of organiung- ChnrrhM. 

— Gatherii)); of (lie church at Darchegtcr. — Letter to Richard MathiT. — 

— Intereic in education. — Cammcni'eDieDt of Harvard College. — Why 
the collei^ wa» placed at Newtown. — DiSlcultj with Mr. Ealnn. — 
Mamea Jouuna Hooker. — Dcmti of Mr. Harlofccndon. — Mr. Shepard's 
work inicrrnpted by aicknesB. — Letter of Mr. Bulklej. — How employed 

While Mr. Shepard was thus watchful over the interests of his 
own flock, and zealous in the piihllc vindication of the true doc- 
trines of grace against the abomiunbte errors of the Aotinomiaiis, 
his advice and assistance were often sought in the organization of 
new churches in the i^olonj ; nnd in such cn^s, as a wise master 
builder, he was careful to see that the materials with which he built 
were of the right kind, and that thej were securely placed upon 
V the " foundation of the aposllea and prophets, Jesus Christ himself 
being the chief comer slonc." One instance will serve as a 
specimen of his wisdom anil fidelity in this respect. In the early 
part of this " dismal year of 1 C3G," while a multitude of " chntfy 
hypocrites " and ignorant fanatics were thronging into the conn- 
try, and many of the churches were suffering under the deadly 
influence of unsound members, he was called to attend a council 
A, for the organisation of the second church in Dorchester, a great 
part, if not the whole, of the lirst having removed to Counecticul. 

The confession of faith, laid before the council by Mr. Mather,_ 
was found to be orlhodox and satinfactory ; hut when the per- 
sons who wci'e to constitute the church came to relate iheir 
experience, the elders refused to organize them, on the ground 
[ that ihey were " not meet, at present, lo be the foundation of a 
church." Many of them built iheir hope upon " dreams, and 

fc^^rf-j ^ 

,r , 


tBTiiihes of the spirit by fits ; " or upon mere " eiiernal reronna' 
tion ; " or " apon their duties and performances ; " whereio Uiey dig- 
covered " three, epeeial errors; 1. That ihej had nol come tn^ 
ktte sin because it vtn tillhy, but odIj left it because it was hurt- 
fbl. 2. That they liad never truly closed with Christ, or, rather, , 
Christ with them, but liad made use of him only to help the im- 
perfection of their satictilicatiaii and duiies, and hod not made 
him their wisdom, right eousoess, ^anctiiieation, and redemption. 
8. That they expected to believe by some power of their own, \ 

inly and wholly from Clirtsl." • Mr. She pard, whose 
experience of God's work of grac« in the heart was widely dif- 
ferent from this, deeming their eridencea unscripiural and delu- 
rive, successfully opposed their organizaElon into a ehurch at 
that time. After his return home, he wrote the following letter 
to Hr. Slather, vindicating the course which he pursued t 
council, and exhibiting his views respecting the materials oSy^ 
which churches should be formed. It ie a letter which ii 
without deep significance and interest at the present day, when 
the same errors of eiperience are common, and many churches 
»Te B far greater proportion of wood. luiy. and stubble, than of 
gold and precious stones, in their comjiosition. 

"Dkar Brotiikr: 

*■ As it was a sad thing to us to defer the uniting of your people 
together, so il would add nIHiction to my sorrow, if that yourself, 
(whora the Lord hath abundantly qualilied and fitted for him- 
self.) and churcli, and people should take to heart too much so 
aolemn a demur and stop to the |>roi'eedingB of those that were 
•o be anitt^d (u you. For what would this be but a privy quar 
leliug with the wise providenee of our God, who knows wha 
|ihjsic is best to be given, and a grieving indeed for that good 
hand of God in which we ought abundantly to rejoice; for I am 
eonfidcnt of it, that there is nothing in this cup so bitter, but, by 
waiting a while, yourself and people will find such sweetness i. 

• Wioihrop'i Joarosl, I- IM. 


the bottom and conclusion of il, as shall make you and ihem 
a double ameuds. 

" David had a greal desire to build the lemple, and he was 
content with the sad message of the prophet, he musi not do ii, 
his 8on should. It was quite honor enough unto him to proviJe 
stuff for it. I persuade myself the Lord intends to do niorf for 
you, and by you, in the place where the Lord hatb set you, and 
that he will honor you wiih a more glorious service than that of 
Solomon ; to build him a temple, not of slon^, but of sninis, 
elect and precious. Yet you know how many years Solomon 
waited before the temple camK to be creeled. 

" All the stones of it were liewn and hammered out in Mount 
Lebanon, so that no ax or hammer was beard knocking .while 
the lemple was a-building. (I Kings vi. 7.) O, let not n little 
waiting be sad or grievous to you, while your people are preparing 
themselves, or the Lord, rather, is preparing them, lo be built 
on the foundation stone ; that when you meet again together, 
there may not be any hammer heard, any doubt made, any pause 
occasioned, by any neglect of them in not seeking to gather iheir 
evidences better, botit to quiet their own soub before the Lord, 
and lo satisfy the consciences of other men. 

" As for myself, I was very lolh to speak, but I thought — 
and I have found it since — that I should neither be accounted 
faithful lo ihe church that sent me, neither should I manifest ihe 
tenderness of the good of your people, if I had not spoken what 
I did. I did confess, and do confess still, that although there 
were divers weaknesses in most, which I did and do willingly, 
with a spirit of love, cover aiid pass by. as knowing what I am 
myself, yet there were three of thera, chiefly, that I was not sat- 
isfied scarce in any measure wiih their profession of faith. Not 
but that I do believe upon your own trial of them — which, I 
persuade myself, will not be slighty in laying a foundation — but 
that they might have grace, yet because we came not here to find 
^aciouB hearts, but to see ihem too. It is not faith, hut a visible 
faith, that must make a visible church, and be the foundation of 
visible communion ; which faith. I say, because my weakness 


could not we in some of Uiein by their profession, I therefore 
ap>ke what I did with respect to yourself, and tenderness also 
o them, that so (hey might either express ihemselves more fully 
or satisfaction of the churches, — whieh I did chiefly desire, — 
ir if there were not time for this, that they might defer till another 
time, which you see was ibe general vote of all the churches. 
e I have thought, and do think, hath this threefold 
good wTi^iped u|) in it. 

" I. That if your people, then doubtful to us, be indeed sin- 
cere, this might make them more humble, and make them search 
themselves more narrowly, and make them cast away all 
their blurred evidences, and get fairer and show better, and m 
find more peace, and keep more close to God than ever before, 
on the contrary, if they be unsound, ihat this might be a 
a to discover them ; for either you will find them proud, 
passionate, and discontented at this, — which I beheve is far from 
all of ihem, — or else you will see that this doth little good, and 
worki little upon them ; which unto my own self would he a 
alirewd evidence of little or no grace, if the majesty and pres- 
ence of God in so many churches so ready to receive you should 
work no more awe, nor ^ad laying to heart Boch a sentence ' 
s this hath been. For beliere it, brother, we have been gener- 
ally mistaken in most men and in great professors : these times 
i lattdy fJiown, a:iJ this place hath dit^covere<l, more false 
liearts than ever we saw before. And it will be your comfort lo 
be very wary and very sharp in looking to the hearts and spirltal 
of those you sign yourself unto, esjiecially at first, lest you meet 
with iboM nd breaches which other churches have had, and all by 
It of ore and skill to pick forth fit stones for so glorious a 
feandaiioB u poateriiy U> come may build upon and bless the 

** 2. By this means others will not be too forward to set upon 
Ikb work, who, after sad trial, will be found utterly unfit for it. 
For it U not a work for all professors, nor for all godly men, to 
la; a fbundalion for a church, for many godly men may hare some 
a that may make for the rain of the building, Ihero- 



fore not fit for a foundntion ; manj godly men are weuk and 
Biniple. nnd unable lo dignero, and so may easilj rei^eive in such 
aa may aflerWard ruio them, hence unlit lo lay a foundation. Not 
that I judge thus of your people. I dare not think so; but if 
those that be fit have been thus stopped in their way. how will this 
make others to tremble and fear in attempting this work, less 
able than yourselves I 

" 3. By this means, I believe and hope that the communion 
of Bainis will be set at a higher price, when it is seen that it 
is not an honor that the Lord will always put on, nor bestow and 
give away unto his own people. I do therefore entreat you in 
the Lord, that you would not hang down your head, but rejoice 
at this good providence of the Lord, which will abound so much 
to his praise and your future peace. Neither let it discourage 
you, nor any of your brethren, to go on in the work for after 
times ; but having looked over their own evidences a little belter, 
and humbled their souls for this, and thirsting the more af\er 
the Lord in bis temple and ordinances, while with David they 
are deprived for a season of them, that hereafter you would 
come forth again, (it may be some of your vii^ins have been 
sleeping, and this may awaken tliem,) with your lamps trimmed, 
your lamps burning, your wedding gormcnis on to meet the bride- 
groom. And if others will fall and sleep again, and not get 
their oil when they have hod this warning, what do they do but 
discover themselves to be but foolish ones, who, (hough they 
knock hereafter, and cry. Lord, I»rd, it may be Christ nor his 
spouse will never let them in. 

" Thus with my unfeigned love to all your brethren, whom I 
honor and tender in the Lord, with my poor prayers for you and 
them, that in his time he would unite and bring you farther, I 
rest, in great haste. 

Your brother in Christ, 

Thomas Shkpaed.* 

"From Nbwtows, (Cambridge,) 
■■ April 2, 1636." 

The answer of Mr. Mather to this faithful and truly apostoU-*^ 
eal letter was worthy of a Puritan and a Chriatian. iDBlead of 
that Mif-sufBcient and JDSubordinate spirit with which adverse 
dedsions of coundb are now frequently met by ministers and 
churcht^, Mr. Mather acknowledges the justness of the rebuke, 
cordially submits lo the authority of the council, and expreseee 
the deejiest gratitude for the faithfulness of hia brethren. 
** As for what yuu ^)>uke Uiat day," he says to Itli'. Shepiird, 

1 bless the I<ord for it. I am so tar from any hard ihoughls 
toward you for ihe same, ilial you have, by your free and failli- 
fal dealing that day. endeared yourself in my esteem more than 
ever, tliough you were always much honored and very dear lo 
me. And blessed be the name of the Lord forever, that put it 
'fato your hearts and mouths, all of you, to express yourselves ag 
JOQ did ; for we now see our unworthiness of such a privilege 
W church communion is, and our unlitness for such a work as lo 
Wter into covenant with himself, and to be accepted of his 
people. ... If the counterfeiting Gibeonitea were made 
fewen of wood and drawers of water, because they beguiled 
Isntel to enter into league and covenant with them, when they 
not the men that they seemed to be, it is as much as we are 
' worthy of. thai we may be hewers of wood, etc., for Ihe churches 
Jtere, because we attempted a leuguc nnd covenant with our 
riiarcbes, and were not worthy of such a matter, nor meet lo be 
Mvenanted with, though — blessed be the Lord for it — the 
beads of the congregation of the Lord's Israel beTC were not so 
hasty, and rash, and credulous as lliey were in the days of Joshua. 
. But you will say. Why, then, did you present yourself 
vitb the people before the Lord aod the churches ? I will tell you 
the trath therein. Tbcj pressed me into it with much importu* 
nity, and so did others also, till I was ashamed lo deny any longer, 
and laid it on me as a thing to which I was bound in conscience 
to aeeenl to ; bcrause if I yielded not to join, there would be, 
Mud they, no church at all in iliis place ; and so a tribe, as it 
trere, abould perish out of Israel, luid all tlkrougb my default. 
Tht* kind of arguing, meeting that inward vainglory, which I 


spake of befgre, was IL that drew me forward, and prevailed 
agfunst the consciousness of my own insnlBcicDcy, and against 
tliat timorouaness that I eotnctimes found in mj'self. ... It 
wae pride th at induced me to yield to their importunity, be- 
cuuae I was desirous to have lite praise and glory of being 
tractiible and easy when enircated, and not to be noted for a 
Btiibbom and of a stiff spirit. . . . But vrhy, then, did 
we bring Moncs so unhatnmered and ui^ewn — evidences of 
f^th no fairer, etc. f In this, sir, you lay your finger upon 
our aore directly; neither can wo here put in any other plea 
but guilty. The good Lord pardon, suith Hezekiah, every one 
that prepareth his heart to seek God, though he be not cleansed 
according to tbe puriflcation of the sanctuary. Let us beg the 
help of your prayers for pardon herein, as Hezekiah did par- 
don for that people, and for more grace and care that, if we ever 
come forth again for the same purpose, — which, for my pan, I 
am ranch afraid to do, — we may not come to the dishonor of 
God, and grief of his saints, as at the last time we did. The 
Lord render you a rirh and plentiful inward for your love and 

Nothing can he more beautiful than the temper exhibiled in 
these letters. We hardly know which to admire most, the Chris- 
linn faithfulness and lore of the pastor of Cambridge, or the 
meekness, humility, and thankfulness for reproof, expressed by 
the pious minister of Dorchester. " Let the righteous smile 
me," says the Psalmist ; " it shall be a kindness i and let hira 
reprove me ; it shall be an excellent oil, which shall not break 
my head ; for yet my prayer also shall be in their calamities." 
Mi^. Shepard, upon receiving Mr. Mather's reply, must have 
felt as Paul did when he witnessed the effect of his Epistle 
upon ihe Corinlhiana. "Though I make you sorry with a let- 
ter, I do not repent, though I did repent ; for I perceive that 
the same epistle haih made you sorry, though it were but for a 

LtrK or iituHAs suKPAKD. cxKun 

Q. . . . For j'e were made sony afier a godly mon- 
ihot ye might receive damage bj us in noUiitig." It is 
aeceaearj only to add, that the people of Dorchester, humbled 
sod instructed by the opinioii and failbful dealing of the council, 
" came forth again," in the month of August foUuwing, for the > 
purpOM of being organized into a church, not now " to the dla- ^ 
honor of God," or *' to the grief of his saints," but with the 
^>probaliou and sanction of their scrupulous brethren, and to 
Ihp glory of the Redeemer. Mr. Mather was immediately . 
ordained pastor of the church, and continued to preside over it I 
with duttingniahed ability and euccess, until his death in 1669, in I 
the serenty-ibird year of his age. 

But Mr. Shepard did not conline his care and labors to the 
churches. Among the institutions which he regarded as of pre- 
eminent importance, and which it was his earnest desire to see 
established in the colony, was a college, to he, as he expresses iti^y 
*'anur§ery of knowledge in tliesC deaertSj and a su^ly fgr poster-' 
ky." TTie greJiro^eororouTfathers. in coming lo this country, 
vas not merely to escape tiuea and imprisonment for Noncon- 
formity. They wished, it is true, for liberty lo worship God __ 
■Dcording to the dictates of their own consciences, and they 
shrunk with a natural dread from the severe penalties of laws 
rbich they could not obey without sin ; but tbey had a nobler 
object than fiersonal safely. They had conceived the idea of a 
Cbrisiiaii commonwealth, widely ditTerent, in its form and princi- 
ples, from any tliat^EE^T^isiM in Ihe world: and this idea they 
began to realixe as soon as they set foot upon these shores. 
BeoidM, therefore, the instruction which their children received 
M the fireside, and hi the primary schoobi, they wanted an institu- 
tion for_the e^ucHlion tuid Inuniiig of young men for the learned 
•pftrfiiitiniMi and especially for Ihc Christian ministry, williout 
which all ibeir labor and sucriliccs would be in vain. The impor- 
tant stations occupied by the able and learned founders of the 
■bnrch and state would soon be vacant; and oven if a sufficient 
■tnnber of scliolars could be procured from ilie parent country to 
them, yet tho«e who were educated abroad, under an entirety 
TOL. I. I 

Mlsxit like of tuomas shepard. 

different rcligiuua and politicul constitulioii, could not be SO 
thoroughly acquithued with tlie grounds of the civil and religious 
institutions, nor bo much attached lo the inlcresta of ilie eolouj, 
as children who were born and educnted here. As soon, there- 
fore, Bays one of the early setileN, as " God had carried us safely 
to New England, and we had builded our houses, provided neces- 
saries for our own liveUbood, reared convenient places for God's 
worship, and settled the civil govenimcnt, one of the next things 
we longed tor and looked after was, to advance learning and 
to perpetuate it to posterity, dreading lo leave an illiterate ininifi- 
Ity to the churches, when our present niinisiera shall lie in the 

The plan of founding a college in Masaachusetta was brought 
before the General Court at its session at Newtown in Sepltm- 
y(^ ber, 1636. It was then resol-ved that such an institution should 
be immediately commenced, ajid the sum of lour hundred pounds 
was immediately appropriated as the beginning of a fund tor its 
endowment — a grant which, inadequate as it confessedly was, yet 
considering the poverty of the colony, and the distractions pro- 
duced by the •• war with the Indians and the Familiats," which 
was then raging, must be regarded as very liberal. 

The place selected for the college was Newtown, which, in 
honor of the university where most of the early New Eng- 
land fathers were educated, was thenceforth called Catnbridge. 
For this choice of Newtown hs the seat of the new university 
there were two weighty reasons. One was, that through the 
influence of Mr. Shepard, under God, tlie congregation in this 
place had been preserved from the contagion of Antiiiomian- 
ism, which waa then threatening the utter dissolution of the Itus- 
ton church, and had begun lo contaminate many other churches 
in the colony. The other is thus stated by Johnson : " To 
make the whole world understand that spiritual learning was 
the thing they chiefly desired, to sanctify the other, and make 
the whole lump holy, and that learning, being set upon its right 

• New EnBlBQd^a Jiitl Frails, p. 13. 


j|A>ject, might not contend for error instead of truth, they chose 
.tbis place, lieiag then under the orthodox and soul- flourishing / 

istrjr of Mr. Thomm Shepard ; of whom it may be &aid,l/ 
wiihoui any wrong to others, the Lord by his ministry hath 
iavcd many a hundred iMuls." * 

The fund created by the grant of the GeneraJ Court was, in 
i639, enlarged by the donation of between ieven and eight hun- 
dred pounds from John Ilari'ard of Charle^town, — being half V 
»f hi* estate, — together with the whole of his library of two 
hundred and sixty volumes; and in honor of him, as the chief 
benefactor, the institution was named Harvard CoUege.t Na- 
iboniel Katon, brother of Theophilus Katon of New Harcn, was 
ihe first instructor in this infant seminary. He was intrusted , 
vith tlie management of the funds,, as well as with the instruction 
of the students. The funds he squandered, and toward his 
pupils he manifested a disposition at once cruel and mean. For 
fcis abusive treatment of his usher, Sir. Briscoe, and for some 
Mher sins as great, though not so notorious, he was dismissed 
from office, fined twenty pounds for the satisfaction of Briscoe, 
«xcoimnutiJcated by the church of Cambridge, luid finally com- 
pelled to leave the colony.} 

lu this unhappy and disgraceful affair, Mr. Shepard, at first, 
ianocently enough, took the wrong side. Eaton professed, "em- ^^ 
inently, yet falsely and most deceitfully," to be a Chiislian ; 
sod the good pastor of Cambridge, who knew no guile, was for 
• long lime ignorant of his great wickedness. On one occasion 
fce bvnt poor Briscoe with "a walimt-tree plant, big enough to 
Jaive lulled a horse," until the whole neighborhood was alarmed 
tty the cry of murder. Mr. Shepard. rushing into Ihe Louse at 
outcry, and seeing Briscoe with his knife in his hand, look 
-k fur granted that the usher, and not the master, was to blame, J 
•ad immediately complained of him to the governor, " for his ' 
kwoleoi speeches, and for crying out murder, and drawing his 
teite i " demanding that he should be required to make a public 

• Wonder- work init ProTiilence, I6t. 

t Wiotluop's Journal, ii. 81 , 343. I Ibid. L 301 


acknowledgment of his violence. And when Eulon, after much 
labor with him iu private, bad reluctantly confe^ed his guilt, 
Mr. Shepard, and several of the elders, "camu inlo court, and 
declared how, the evening before, ihey bad -taken pains with bim 
to convince him of Lis faullas" that he had "fi-eely and fully 
acknowledged hia sin ; " that they " hoped he had truly repent- 
ed," and therefore " desired of the court that he might he par- 
doned and continued in his emptoyment; alleging such further 
reasons as they thought fit." • But Mr. Shepard was not long 
deceived in respuct to Eaton's real character. lie soon saw 
things in their true light, and cordially assented to the sentence 
by which the hypocrite was expelled from office, and cut off 
iTom the fellowship of the church ; mourning deeply over this 
great scandal to the cause of truth, aud especially lamenting 
his own " ignorance, and want of wisdom and watchfulness," in 
relation to the guilty man. Eaton fled from the colony, and 
afterward sent for his wife aud children to come to him in 
Virginia. Her friends in Cambridge urged her to delay the 
voyage for a while ; but she resolved to go, and the vessel in 
which she sailed was never heard of afterward.t This disaster 
deeply affected Mr. Shepard ; and though he was in no sense 
chargeable with the sad fate of tliis unhappy family, he called 
himself to account as if he were in some measure guilty of their 
blood. In bis diary, under dale of June 3, 1640, he says, 
" When tidings came to me of the casting away of Mrs. Euton, 
|[ did learn this lesson — whenever any affliction came, not to 
yuh ap my former, old, trut humiliation, but to be more humbled; 
for I saw I was very apt to do the first. And I blessed God 
for the hght of this truth." 

Mr. Shcpard's first wife, who had shared with him the dan- 
gers of persecution in England, and the hardships of his Hight 
to the asylum which had been providentially prepared for him 
in this country, died, as has been already staled, in February, 
1636; and his son Thomas, then about ten months old, was 

• .Winthrop'B Joanial, i. 311. t Ibid, u, 2S. 


I placed under the cnre of a Mra. Hopkins, who was probnbly one 

I of the compan; ihat camti over wjtli itiem. For a »eaMn, ihere- 

I fore, while he was engaged in these public labors, amidsi the 

dUiraoting conirarer^ies, and other evils, which, as a leading 

, man in ihe colony, he could not avoid, his own houAe was letl 

I anto him desolate ; and he was obliged to encounter afflictions 

I ■broad, without those comforis of home lo which he had been 

accaslomed in liis formtir trials, and which his usuollj' feeble 

bealtii rendered necessary. 

I It was natural, iherelbre, that he should think af another 

flonnecUoi), and endeavor to rekindle the lire upon Lis onn 

bearlh. " A prudent wife," the sacred writer [ells us, ■' is from 

' the liOrd ;" and Mr. Sbepard soon obtained this great blessingi 

^o ihe month of Oclober. 1637, he married Joanna, the eldest 

f of his early friend and counselor, MK Hooker, with^ 
) be bad been long acquainted, and whose extraordinary 
i for Ihe station she was required to fill he fully understood. 
I TbU connection proved to be eminently suitable ; and all the 
expeclationfl which he and his friends bad formed respecting her 
u a wife, as a mother, and as a helper in the jTreai work which 
wa« at ibat lime tasking and exhausting his energies, were much 
more than realised. 

The year after his marriage, lie suffered a great loss in the 
death of his early and devoted friend Roger Ilarlakenden. The'^ 
fuaily of Harlakenden, as the reader will remember, had been 
the protectors and supporters of Mr. Shepard, when, in England, 
he was bunted fmm place to place by the pursuivants, and 
obliged to hide himself from the wrath of the bishops. Tlio 
two brothers, Richaid and Roger, having been converted under 
hii preaching, were ever among his warmest friends ; and Roger, 
unwilling to be separated from the powerful and ■* soul-flourish- 
ing ministry" which had been bo highly blessed lo his soul, 
esune and wttlrd with his posior in Cambridge. Mr. Shepard 
(wlls him a " most dear friend, and precious servant of Je«ua 
Chritt." Hr wiu of such rejiulalion Tn the I'olony that be was 
ihree timet chosen oMistant ; and his infliience must have been 

or [he greatest service to tlie church and ila miuiater. He died 
of smaL-pox, November 17, 1638, being ooly twenly-neven 
years of age. " He was," sixyn Wintbrop, " a very godly man, 
and of good use both in the comnion wealth and in ihe church. 
He was buried with military honors, because he was lieutenant 
colonel. lie left behind a virtuous gentlewoman and two daugh- 
terd. He died in great peace, and lefl a sweet memorial behind 
him of his piety and virtue." * 

Rood after the death of Mr. Horlakenden, Mr. Shepard him- 
self was brought to the iKirders of the grave by a disease, which 
was probably brought on by over-exertion, hardship, and grief. 
The manner in which he himself speaks of it leads us to this 
conclusion. **! fell sick," he says, "after Mr. HariakeDdcn's 
death, my moat dear friend, and mo»t precious servant of Jesus 
Christ; and when I was very low, and my blood much corrupted, 
the Lord revived me ; and after that took pleasure in me, to 
bless my hibors, so that I was not altogether useless nor fruitless." 
That his sickness — whatever might have been its nature — was 
so severe as to bring death very near, apparently, not only to his 
otm mind, but also to awaken painful apprehensions in the public 
mind respecting his danger, is evident from a letter addressed 
to him by Mr. Bulkley, one of Ihe moderators of the late synod, 
soon aller his recovery. 

"Dear Sir: I hear the Lord hath so far .strengthened 
you, as that you were the last Lord's day at the assembly. 
The Lord go on with the work of his goodjiess toward you. 
Being that now the Lord hnth enabled you thus lar, 1 desire 
a word or two from you, what you judge concerning the teachers/ 
in a congregation, whether the administration of discipline and 
sacraments do equally belong unto them with l)ie pastor, and 
whether he ought therein equally to interest himself. I would 
also desire you to add a word more concerning this, viz., what you 
n by the txecutian of discipline, when you distinguish it from 

' Wiulbrop'c Jaurool, L SIS. 

LIFE OF lUOMAB satl-XRD. Gxxxix 

the power. We have had speech aotnetimee canceming the 
lurch's power in matlers of disciplini;, wherein you eeemed 
tg put i)ie power ilsctf into the hands of the church, but tA re- 
the execution to ihe eldership. I would see what you 
eotnpreliend under the word execution. I would gladJy hear 
kow the common affairs of the church stand with you. I am 
here shut up, and do neither see nor hear. Write nic what you 
. Let lue aUo know hqitMr!_Ph.illjps5oih incline, whether 
toward you or uiberwi-ie ; and what way Mr. Btiigera is like to 
tufp, whether to stay in these parts or to go unto Connecticut. 
X wrote to you not long ago, advising jou to consider qaid vaUat 
huntri ^ I know not whether you answered that letter. The 
ird in mercy bless all your labors to his church's good. Be- 
aember my love to Mrs. Shepard. with Mrs. Harlakenden. 
Grace be with you all. 

Yours iu Christ Jesus, 

"Febnury I!, I $38." 

Prom this letter, it is evident, not only that Mr. Shepard'a 
htess bad been such as to interrupt his public labors, and excite 
une degree of alarm among his friends, but also, incidentally, 
th>t bis labors in the pulpit, and with the pen, were bo great as, 
perimps. to retard hia complete recovery, and to render necessary 
•oroe fraternal advice that be should spare himself a little. " I 
wrote you not long ago, advising you to consider qaid valetit Aa- 
I " — what your shoulders are able to bear; a caution which 
eenu not to have laid to heart, for he continued to labor beyond 
strength, and to take upon his shoulders a weight which ihey . 
9 not able to sustain. His laborious preparation for preach-' 
log, and his public labors for the good of tlie churches qnd the 
proiperity of the commonwealth, were probably the burden 
which Mr. Bulkley feareil he would not be able to bear. 

Aa to those points of ecelesiasiical order upon which Mr. 
Sulkley aslu for ioformatian, no reply Grom Mr. Shepard has been 

• Sfllcblniuii'* MS Pkfo. vol i., <Ei Mui Uitt Soe Libnij. 


preserved ; but his opinions in relntion to them are fully ex- 
pressed in hie published works. What they were will be seen when 
ire come to 9pcak of the services which Mr. Shepard rendered 
in settling the principles upon which Ibe early CuDgregational 

""hiirches were oi^anizeil. 


Mr. Shepani on the point of removing to Malaheaeck. — Canw of hia em- 
bamsamcnLt. — Leiicr from Mr. Hooker. — Stato of Mr. Shepanl's mind 
during ih IB season. — Kxlracts from his dinrf. — Difflunlij rpmoced. — 
Binh of children. — Sumael Shcpurd. — Letters from Mr. Hooker. 

In the year 1640, Mr. Shepard, in addition to his other afflic- 
tions, waa plunged into almost inextricable embarrafsment with 
^ respect to bis afTuirs, wbicli had well nigh comQelled liim to re- 

.. move to Rome other planlatioD, or lo return to England. This 

embarrassment was occasioned by the depreiised slate of the 
colonists with respect to the means of meeting iheir pecuniary 
obligations. The influx of settlers bad ceased in consequence of 
the change of affairs in England ; and this sudden check to im- 
migration had an immediate elfect upon the price of cattle, etc. 
While the inhabitants continued to multiply, a farmer, who could 
spare but one cow in a year out of his stock, used to clothe his 
family with the price of it at the expense of the new comtrs ; when 
this failed, they were put to great difflculticB.* Some of the colo- 
nists, in ihe ^prMgect^ a thoj^ugh reformation in England, began 
lo think of returning lo Iheir nuijre TanI " Others, despairing of 
any more supply from thence, and yet not knowing how to live 
there if they should return, bent their minds wholly to removal 
to the south parts, supposing they should find better means of 
fluhsiatence there, and for this end put off iheir estates here at 
very low rales. These things, together with the scurcily of 
jDoney, caused a sudden and very great abatement of the prices 

* UutvhiasoD, Hiat. KImi. i. 93. 



of all our comoioditie^ Com was sold ordinarilj' at three shil- 
fin^ the bushel, a good cow nt seven or eight pounds, and Bome 
M five, and otlier tilings answerable, whereby it came to pass that 
men could not pay tlieir debts, for no money nor beaver were 
to be had ; and he who last year, or hut three months before, 
wa.-< wortli one thousand pounds, could not now, if he should sell liis 
whole estate, raise two hundred pounds, whereby God " taught us 
the ranity of all ouiwanl things 1 " " The scarcity of money made 
■ great change in hU commerce. Merchants would sell no wares 
but for ready money. Men could not pny iheir debts, though they 
had enough. Prices of cattle fell soon to the one half and less, 
yea, lo a third, and after, to one fourth pari." • For the relief 
of the people, at this season of uneipecled trial, the court, in 
October. ItiJO, ordered that, for all new debts, com should be a ^ ■ 
legal tender ; Indian com to be received al four shillings, sum- 
■ler wheat at six shillings, rye and barley at five shillings, and 
pesie at six shillings per bushel ; and that upon all executions for 
, old debt*, the officer should take land, houses, com, cattle, fish, 
or other commodities, and deliver the same in full satisfaction to 
the creditor at such prices as should be fixed by three intelligent 
•nd indifferent men, to bo chosen, one by the creditor, another by 
the debtor, and the third by the marshal ; the creditor being at 
Sbertj to make choice of any goods in the possession of the 
debtor, and if there were not sufficient goods to discharge the 
debt, then he might lake house or land.f 

What the exact auMunt of Kir. Shepard's nominal salary was, 
■$A ihia time, is not known ; hut from the report of a commitlee, 
^ipointed a few years later to make inijuiries in relation to the 
Bainienance of ministers in (he vicinity of Cambridge, a totcra- 
Vy accurate idea may be formed as to his means of subsistence. 
Mr. Hobort, of Hingham. received ninety potiuda a year, one 
third in wheat, one third in com, and the remainder in pease. 
Mr. Mather, of Dorchester, received one hundred pounds, pay- 

• VlMbrofi'* JonnuLU. HI, IB- 

t Wiulfop'a Jovmal, IL T. Felfi MaaMdiuMiti' Camacj, p. U. 


able in corn, and in work as he miglil ha? 
Eliot and Mr. Danforih, of Roxbury, fiixly pounUs each, in 
com ; Mr. Allen, of Dedham, stxly pounds, in com and work ; 
Mr. Flint and Mr. Thoini>s«n. of Brainlree, fifrj-five poonils 
each, in com ; Mr. Wilson, of Medfield, aiity pounds, in com. 
lir. Sliepard's salary was not, probably, greater ilian that of bis 
friends in tlie neighboring towns, aor paid in a different manner. 
And when the scarcity of money became so great that the corn, 
10 which bis fialary was paid, could neither be sold for cash nor 
ezciianged at the merchant's for the various other necessaries of 
life, nor — until the order of court above referred to — made 
a legal tender for any debt. Ids situation, as well as that of all 
the ministers in the colony, wlio had no means of subsistence 
except their stipulated amount of corn, must have been well 
nigh desperate. And if, in addition lo ibe unavoidable pres- 
sure which had come upon him, any of the people — before 
the price of corn, as part of the circulating medium, had been 
fixed by the court — unfairly charged their minister the price 
which this commodity bore the year before, when it had suddenly 
iklleD to one third, or to one quarter, of its former value, and, as 
Wintbrop says, " wonld buy nothing," the evil wonld, of course, be 
greatly aggravated. Reduced to great extremity with respecl 
to his maintenance, Mr. Sbepard contemplated a removal to 
Matabeseck, a settlement upon the Uonnectlcut River, wbich was 
afterward called Middletown. To this step he was urged by 
Mr. Hooker, his father-in-law, in the foHownig interesting letter, 
liever before publislit-d, which strongly insinuates that there had 
been some injustice and unfair dealing, as well as poverty, among 
the people, with respect to the payment of their debts. 

"Drar Sort: Since the first intimation I had from my 
cousin Samuel, when you were here with us, touching the number 
and nature of your debts, I conceived and concluded the conse- 
quences lo be marvelous desperate, in the view of reation, in 
truth, unavoidable, and jct insupportable i such as were likely to 
ruinate the whole. For why should any send commodities, much 

) come Ihemseives, lo iho place, when there Is no juetica 
amongst men to pay for what they lake, or the place is so forlorn 
and helplese, that men can not support ihemseives in a way of 
jutitice, and therefore there is neither sending nor coming, unless 
they will make themselves and suletance a prey ? And hence to 
weary a man's self to wrestle out an inconvenience, when it ie 

rund all po^sihilicies which are laid before a man in a rational 
course, is ajtogeiiier bootless and fruitless, and is lo increase a 
i misery, not to ease it. Such be the mazes of mischievous 
faaxards, that our sinful de{>arlure3 from the right and righteous 
ways of God bring upon u^, that, as birds taken in an evil net, 
Ihe more they stir, ihe faster they are tied. If there was any 
mSieicncy to make satisfaction in time, then respite might send 
And procure relief; but. wlien that is wanting, delay is to make 
many deaths of one, and to make them all more deadly. 

■* The first and safest way for peace and comfort is to quit a 

ui's hand of the sin, and so of the staying of the plague. 
Happy is be that hath none of the guilt in Uie commission of 
evils sticking to him. But he that is faulty, it will be his happi* 
cover himself by repentance, both sudden and seasona- 
bly serious ; aod when that is done in such hopeless occasions, it 
ii good lo sit down under the wisdom of some word. That which 
■ crooked nobody cad make straight, and ihal which is iranting 
»ooc can supply, (Eccl. i. 15 ;) and then seek a way in heaven 
Sat gam pa, when there is no way on earth tluit appears. You 
M>y that which 1 long since supposed : the magistrates are at 
Ifceir wit's end, and 1 do tioi marvel ul iL 

" But is there, then, nothing to be done, but Ui sink in our 
I confess here lo reply, and lliat u|>on the sudden, is 
irholly beyond all my skill. Yet I must needs say something, if 
rk be but lo breathe out our thoughts, and so our sorrows. I say 
oura. beuiuse ihe evil will reacli us really more than by bare 
sympathy. Taking my former ground for granted, that ihe 
««akneu of ihu l>o<ly is such that it is not able to bear 
tbs diaeaao longer, but is like to grow wor»e and more unfit 

CxUt LIF£ op THUMAS SHKl-Aim. 

for cure, — which I suppose is the case io hanil, — then I can 
not see but of necessity this course must be taken : — 

" 1. Tlie debtors must freely and fully tender llicmaelves and 
ftU they have into the handa, and be at the mercy and discretion, 
of the creditors. And this must be done nakedly and really. It 
is too much that men have rashly and unjustly taiken more than 
they were able to repay and satisfy ; therefore they must not add 
fttlsehood and dissimulation nhen they come to pay, and so not 
only break their estate, but their consdencea finally. I am afraid 
there be old arrearages of tliia nature that lie yet in the dark. 

" 2. The churches of the commonwealth, by joint consent and 
■erious considGnition, must make a privy search what have 
been the courses and sinful carriages which have brought in 
and increased this epidemical evil ; pride and idleness, excess in 
apparel, building, diet, unsuitable to our beginnings or abil- 
ities ; what toleration and connivance at extortion and oppres- 
sion ; the tradesman willing the workman may take what he 
will for his work, that he may aak what he will for his com- 

" 3. When they have humbled themselves unfeignedly be- 
fore the Lord, then set up a real reformation, not out of 
politic respects, attending our own devices, but out of plain- 
ness, looking at the rule, and following that, leave the rest to 
the Lord, who will eyer go with those who go Jiis own way. 

" Hit prmmUiit : I can not see in reason, but if you can sell, 
and the Lord afibrd you any comfortable chapmen, but you 
should remove. For why should a man stay until the house 
fall on his head ? or why continue his being there where in 
reason he shall destroy his substance? For were men mer- 
chants, how can they hold it, when men cither want money 
to buy withal, or else wont honesty, and will nut pay ? The 
more honest and able any persons or plantations be, their 
rates will increase, slocks grow low, and their incre.ise little or 
nothing. And if remove, why not to Mjitabeseck? For may 
be the geatleinen will not come, and that is moat Ukel/ { or, 


if they do, ttiey will sot come all ; or if all, is it not prob- 
able but they may be entreated lo abate one of the lota ? or, 
lot abate. — if they lake double lots, — ihey must bear 
double rates : and I see not but all plantations Bnd this a main 

wound, ihey want men of abilities and parts to manage their 
affairs, and men of estate lo bear charges. I will tell thee 
mine wbole heart : considering, as I conceive, your company 

aitsl break, and considering things tU t*pra, if you can sell, 

rou should remove. 

" If I were in your places, I should let those that must and 
will transplant themselves as they see fit, in a way of provi- 
di'nc« and prudence, I would reserve a special company, — but 
out many, — and I would remove hither. For I do verily think 
that either the gentlemen will not come, or, if they do, ihey may 
JVC r-en treated not lo prejudice the plantation by taking loo 
much. And yet, if I bad but a convenient epare number, I do 
ive that would not prove prejudical to any comfortable sub- 
■iitcnce ; fur able men are most fit to carry on occasions by their 
prrsons and e.'ttates witb most success. These are all my thoughts ; 
bnt they are inter not ; use them as you 8e« meet. I know to 
begin plantations is a hard^ork ; and I think I have seen aa 
LUch dllTicully, and come to such a business with as much dis- 
Ivantage, as most men could do, and therefore I would not 
press men against their spirits. When persons do not choose a 
work, they will be ready to quarrel with the liardness of iL Thia 
«nly is lo me beyond encepiion : if you do remove, considering 
tlii: curnssfiondcnce you have here of hearts, and hands, and 
help*, you shall never remove to any place with the like advan- 
tage. Tlie piUur of lire and cl!>uil go before you. and the Father 
of mercies be the God uf all th« changes that pass over your 
bead." ... - Tiniu tuut, 



" Sinl mutiuB prteet in perpHuiun." 


* Hatdiiaaon'i MB. Papen, voL L pp. 37-40. 


In a subsoqucnt letter, but without date, Mr. Hooker refers 
aJn to the subject of Mr. Shepard's removal. 
"Touching your business at Matabeseck ; this is the compssa 
it : Mr. Fenwick is willing that you and yoar company should 
tne thither upon these terms ; Provided that you will reserve 
three double lots for three of the gentlemen, if they come ; that 
is, those three lots must carry a double proportion to that which 
youra lake. If tliey take twenty acres of meadow, you must 
re3er\-e forty for them ; if thirty, threescore for them. This is 
all we could obtain, because he stays one year longer in expecta' 
tion of bb company, at the least some of them ; and the like 
hath been done in Quinipiack, And halh been usual in such be- 
ginnings. Therefore we were Bileut in such a grant, for the 
while. Consider, and write back your thoughts. I am now 
weary with writing, anfl I suppose you will be with reading. 
The blessing of Him that dwelt in the bush dwell with you for- 
ever. Totus tuut, 

T. HOOKES." • 

The general state of Mr. Shepard's mind in view of this con- 
templated removal, and the painful circumstances which had 
brought him into these straits, may be inferred from some re- 
marks found in his diary during this gloomy season. 

" February 14, 1640. When there was n church meeting to 
be resolved about our going away, viz., to Matabeseck, I looked 
on myself as poor, and as unable to resolve myself or to gnido 
others or myself in any action, as a beast ; and I saw myself in 
Y, respect of Christ as a brule is in respect of a man. And hence I 
left myself on Christ's wisdom." 

It is a peculiar feature in all Mr. Shepard's references to his 

trials, that he never complains of outward difficulties, — never 

mapifestB any ira]JatiejjiSi~u'n3er his losses and privations. — 

never blames those by whom he has been made to suffer. — but 

• always condemns himself, and makes every untoward event in 

• Iluirhiuwa's US. Paperti, vol i. 




Ills life a menne of humbling and bringing him nearer to God.^ 
When he wua silcnceil tuid driven forth as a fugitive bjr Bishop 
I.AU1I, he thought it wna " for his sins" that the Ixwd thus set 
his adversaries E^ainst him. 

It is, indeed, iraposaitile to discover, by reiuling his diary, how 
great, or of what kind, hia external trials were ; or even whether, 
al this time, there were any parlii'ularly trying circumslances in 
his condition ; and it was not vntil after long examination, and a 
very fortunate accident, as it might be called, that the extract 
above, standing as it docs without any explanation, wns found to 
relate to embarrassments wliicli threatened the very existence of 
bis congregation in Cambridge. As illustrations of this feature^ 
the following passages, taken almost at random from bis dinry 
during this season, may be given : — 

"December 1. A tmall thing troabUd me. Hence I saw, / 
that though the Lord hod made me that night attain to that part v 
of humiliation to see that I deser%'ed nothing but misery, yet I 
fell short in this other pari, viz.. to submit to God in any cross- 
ing providence or command, but lind a spirit soon touL'hed and 
provoked. I saw obo that the Lord lei sin and Satan prevail 
there, that I might see my ein, and be more bumbled by it, and 
BO get strength against it." 

" January 1 1. In the morning the Loi'il presented to me tht v , 
»ad flaU of Ae church ; which put mc upon a spirit of sorrow for 
my Bins as one cause, and to resolve in season to go visit all 
families. But lirst to begin with myself, and go to Chrbt, that 
he nay begin lo pour out his ointment on mc, and then to my 
wife, and then to my family, and then to my brethren." 

"Jnnaaiy 30. When I was in meditation, I saw, when Chritl 
teat prttftU, all bleuings vrrre present ; as where any were with- 
out Christ present, there all sorrows were. Hence I saw hoiy, 
liule of Chriat was present in me. I saw I did not cc 
and live of myself, that Christ might be and live in me. I »nw 
that Christ was to do, counsel, and direct, and that I should he 
wholly diffident of myself, and careful for this, tliat be might bo 
all to me. Hence I blessed Christ for ahowiiig me this, and 
moiiiTied for the want of it." 



" Febraary 1. When I was on my bed a Slonday mominjr, 
the Lord let me see that 1 was nothing else but e. mam of sin, 
and that all I did was very vile- Which when my kearl was 
Eoniewbat touched with, immediatelj the Lord revealed himself 
to me in hia fullness of goodne.«s, with much sweet itSection. 
The Lord suddenly appeared, and let roe see there was strength 
in him to succor me, wisdom to guide, mercy in hiro to quicken, 
.Chriat to satisfy ; and so I saw all my good was there, as all evil 
was in myself." 

" February 9. I considered, when I could not bring Christ's 
will to mine, I was to bring mine to his. But then it must be 
thud: 1. That if ever he gives my desire, it will be infinite 
mercy, and so his will is good. 2. If he dolb not, yet I de- 
served to be crossed, and to feel notbing but extremity." 

It is probable that, at the church meeting* refer red to February 
14, Ihe plan of removing to MatAbeseck was ihroroughty discussed, 
and in view of expected relief finally given up. For oil tlie next 
day, February 1.5, we find the following entry in his diary: "I 
was in prayer, and in the beginning of it, that promise came in, 
' Seek me, and ye thall live.' Hereupon I saw I had cause to 
seek him only, always ; because there was nothing else good, 
and because he whs always good. And my heart made choice 
of God alone, and he was a sweet portion to me. And I began 
to aec how well I could be without all other things with him ; 
and so learnt lo live by faith." Again, under date of March 2, 
1641, he says, " I was cast down with the sight of our unwor- 
thiness in ibis church, deserving to be utterly wasted. But 
the Lord filled my heart with a spirit of prayer, not only to 
desire small things, but with a holy boldness to desire great 
things for God's people here, and for myself, vie, that I might 
live Id see all breaches made up. and the glory of the Lord ujion 
us; and that 1 might not die, liut live to show forth God's glory 
to this and the children of the next generation. And so I rose 
from prayer with some confidence of an answer — 1. Because I 
I saw Christ put it into my heart lo ask i 2. Because he was true 
to bear all prayer." 


Slill later, we fiad the followmg passage : — 

"Ot'tober 29. / was mueh IraiMed about the poverty of tAe 
thurehet : imd t saw it wiLs Eu<:b. a miseiy us I could not well 
dbcern tLe cause of, nor sec anj way ouL Yet I saw we might 
find out the cause of any evil by (be Lord's siroke. Now, he 
struck us in outward hle^iuga, and bence it is a sign there was 
oitr evil ; 1. In not acknowledging all we have from God, (Hos. 
ii. 8 ;) 2. In not serving God in having llicm ; 3. In making 
ourselves secure and hjird liearleJ ; for lawful blessings are the 
secrA idols, and do most hurt ; and it is then a sign our greatest , 
burt lies in having, and tlial the greaieal good lies in God's taking V 
them away from us. Whereupon I, considering thi!>, did secretly 
content myself that the Lord should take all from us, if it 
might be not in wrath, but in love, hereby to glorify himself 
the more, and to take away the iuel of our sin. I saw that, if 
the Lord's people could be joyfully content to pari with all to 
the Lord, prizing the gain of a little holiness more ibaa enough 
to overbalance all their losses, thai the Lord then would do ua 

Que more eiciract from his meditations at this time will suffice. 
"July 23. As I was riding to the sermon, (lecture at Charles- 
town,) my heart began to be much disquieted by seeing almost 
■11 men's souls and estates out of order, and many evils in men's 
liearts, lives, courses. Hereupon my heart began to unlhdrav) 
ittfi/ from my brethren and othert. But I bad it secretly 
•aggfstL-d lo mc, that Christ, when he saw evils in any, he 
■ought (o amend them, did not presently withdraw from them, ' 
Dor was not perplexed and vexed only with them. And so I 
eonsidered, if I had Christ's Spirit in me, 1 should do so. And 
vLeu I saw that the Lord had thus overcome my reasoningH and 
visited me, I blessed his name. I saw, also, the night before 
ttiis, that a child of Go<l, in bis solitariness, did tpreith againtt 
tfitptatitm, and so overcome his discontent, pride, and passion." 

This event in the life of Mr. Sliepard is exceedingly interest- 
ing, not only as throwing light upon ilie trials and hardships to 
trhjch our fathers in the ministry were subjected in tb« earljr 


dajG of New England, but ei>|>ecial1y as it brings out, in a utrik- 
, ing manner, a prominent and beautiful feature of Iklr. Shepard's 
j piety. The purity of f^Id is tested by the crucible ; and this 
trial of a foitli " more precious than of gold that perishelb," devel- 
oped a elate of mind which, nmidsl the abounding hypocrisy and 
eelHshness of the world, it is most delightful toconlemplale. The 
J manner in which he stayed himEelf upon Gud, and rebuked his 
discontent, and quietly continued hia labors, under a burden ol 
debt and of want, which, upon ordinary principles, would have 
justified his removal, may serve as a model of ministerial patience 
and faithfulness for ua at the present day. Ministers are doubt- 
less subjected to niiiny trialii growing out of an insufficient m 
tenance ; and the people m,iy he more or less in fault for the 
barraaaments which distract their pastors. But a hasty remi 
to Matabeseck is not the only cure ; nor will impatience, and dis- 
couragement, and complaint make the burden any lighter. If, in 
such circumstances, a minister can, tilce Shepard, make the trou- 
>^ ; blea of his outward estate the means of rendering him more 
bumble, more prayerful, more siibiniseive to the will of God, 
more desirous of glorifying Christ by a faithful service, he may 
live to see " all breaches made up, and the glory of the. Lord 
upon him." He will not die of starvation, but " live to ehow 
forth God's glory to this and the children of the next gcnei-- 
ation." More of the spirit of our fathers, under the unavoida- 
ble pressure of Providence, or the injustice and selfishness of the 
people, would in the end produce a great change in the state of 
things ; would render the minbtry more permanent and more re- 
spected, and the people mure ju»t and benevolent \ would give the 
lie lo the charge that ministers labor merely for hire, and produce 
in the public aiiiid a deep conviction that thase who preach the 
gospel are really the servants of Hiro, " who, though rich, for 
our Bakes became poor, that we, through his poverty, raight be 
rich." The injustice of the people in withholding an ample 
support, when it is in their jiower lo give il, is not hereby justi- 
fied, but rebuked in the most effectual manner; and jierhaps 
nothing would be so likely to make the altar rich enough in 


AXtemal offerings lo f>upply all the wtinis of those who niinL<tter at 
k, as ibai supreme regard to tli<; interests of the church and the 
Aonor of Christ, of which Shepard gives us such a beautiful 
tan) pie. 

Of Mr- Shepard'g domestic afTaJrs, Bubscquent to the period 
veTerred to above, little is known, except what he has incidentally 
•told us in hia invaluable hut too brief account of himself. That 
;he HulTered many privations in couseiiuence of the general pov- \ 
'ertf of the people, is probBl>le ; and that amidol all hia afflictions 
fce labored with a zeal that consumed him, is certain. In Octo-"' 

1041, he says, " I was very sad to see the outward iranli of 
<rt( foimtry, and what would become of me and mine, if we 
^ould want clothes and go naked, and give away all to pay our 
idebts. Hereupon the Lord set mc upon prizing hit lore, and the 
I,ord made me content with it. And there I left myself, and 
'begged this portion for myself and for my child, and for the 
Again : " Oct. 2, On Salunlay night and this rooming 
I uw, and waa much affecled with, God'n goodness unto me. the 
It of my father's house, lo send the gorpel to me. And I saw 
'What a great blessing it would be to my r/iild, if he may have it, 
by my means it comes to him. And seeing the glory of this 
Mercy, the Lord stirred up my heart to desire the blessing aud 
'presence of hia ordinances in this place, and the continuance of 
.k» poor churches among us, looking on them as means to pre- 
'e and propagale the gospel. And my heart was, for this end, 
'Very desirous of mercy, outward and inward, to sustain them, for 
Ilk own mercy's sake. And *o I saw one xtrong motive lo pray 
ibr them, even for posterity's sake, rather than in England, where 
*o mnch sin and evil was aboutiding, and where children might 
be polluted. And I desired to honor the Lord better, that I 
might make him known to this generation." Again : '• Oct. 9. 
On Saturday morning I was much affected for my life ; that I 
night live still to seek, that so I might see God, and make 
God before my death." These extracts from his diary, 
of choice thoughts, worthy to be the daily companion of 
■linbtcr, ahow ibat with rcsp«ot to bis appropriM«^ 


■; or THouAi 

work he was diligent, aiid, nol with standing his outward trials, ■ 

During ttie niac years wliich elapaed between Mr. Sliepard's 
Eecond marriage and the deatit of his excellent wife, three children 
( were born to him. The first, a boy, died "before he saw the 
sun, even in the very birih." The second, Samuel, was bom 
October 18, 1641, at ihe lime of Mr. Shcpard's greatest domestic 
privation and difficulty. The third was also a son, named John, 
who, after a brief and sickly life of four tnonihs, •' departed on 
the Sabbath morning, a day of rest, to the bosom of rest," 

With respect to Samuel, we find the following reference in the 
diary, from whicli several passage* have been already quoted : — 

"October 18. On Monday morning my child was bom. 
And when my wife was in Iravail, the Lord made me pray that 
she might be delivered, and the cliild given in mercy, having 
had some sense of mercy the day before at the sacramcnL But 
I began to think, What if it should not be so, and her pains be 
long, and the Lord remember my sin ? And I began to imagine, 
and trouble my heart with fear of the worst. And I underslood 
at ibat time that my child had been bora, and my wife delivered 
in mercy already. Hereupon I saw the Lord's mercy, and my 
I own folly to disquiet my heart with fear of what never shall be, 
■>' and not rather lo submit to (he Lord's will ; and come what can 
come, to be quiet there. When it was bom, 1 was much affected, 
and my heart clave to the Lord, who gave it. And thoughts 
came in thai this was the beginning of more mercy for time lo 
come. But I questioned, Will ihe Lord provide for it ? And I 
aaw that the Lord had made man (especially the church and 
their posleriij) to great glory, to praise him, and hence would 
take care of him. . . . And I saw God bad blessings for all 
my children ; and hence 1 turned them over to God." 

This son, whom Mr. Shepard and his friends were wont (o 

«ill " Little Samuel," was brought up in (he family of his grand- 

' father Hooker, at Hartford. We calch a glimpse of him by 

means of a delightful letter from Mr. Hooker to Mr. Shepard, 

without date, but written, as we sliould judge from a pousage in 


Lb, just before the second nieeling of the synod which agreed 
n tbe plaiform, and probably after ibe death of Samuel's 

" Dear Sok : This being the first messenger which I under- 
stand comes into your coasts, I was glad to embrace the opporta- 
nity, tJiai I might acquaint you witli God'a dealings and our own 
condition here. The winter hath been exceeding mild and 
Avorable above any that ever yet we bad since we came into 
lhe»e ends of the earili. Thus the Lord is pleased to cross the 
flonc«its of the discontented, and accommodate tbe comforts of 
kis servants beyond their expectations, and is able to do the like 
in other things, were we as fit to receive them as be is willing to 
tfbpense them to us. Myself, wife, and family enjoy our wonted 
'kiealth. My little Sam is Tery w«ll, and exceedingly cheerful, 
.ud hath been so all thb time, — grows a good scholar. The 
Gule creature hath such a pleasing, winning disposition, that it 
■akea me think of his mother almost every time I play with 

TotuM tutu, 

" SabUa leUulandot Mr. Cotton, Mr. Dunster, etc." 

In another letter, apparently subsequent to the preceding, Mr. 
Hooker again speaks with a grandfather's tenderness of his 
" Little Sam : " — 

" Uj little bed-fellow is well. I bless the Lord, and I find 
what you related to be true ; the colder the weather grows, 
the mor« quiet he lies. 1 shall hardly trust any body with him 
but mine own eye. Young ones are heavy headed, and if cmce 
they fall to sleep they are hard to awake, and therefore unlit to 
help. My wife wishes you, by advice, to give something to little 
John, to prevent the jaundice. Preventing physic is be&U By 

• HntcUiuon'i MS. Papers, voL L p. M. 


(Lis linic I ara weary with wridug, and I suppose you may be bo 
wiih reading. My eyes grow dim, and my hand much worge, 
ihough never good, and tlierefort my pen is very unpleasant; yet 
I could not but communicate ray thoughts with you, according to 

" My wife and fricnda salute you. Sam remembers his duty ; 
b very thankful for his things you senl, which are received. 
" The blessing of Heaven be with you. 

Totua tuiu, 

" September IT, 1646." 

Il is only necessary to add, that Samuel Shepard was graduated 
at Harvard College in 1658 ; was ordained the third minister of 
Rowley in 1662, and died April 7, 1G68, at the early age of 
twenty-seven. " He was," says Mr. Mitchel, " a pious, holy, 
meditating, able, choice young man — one of the first three. 
He was an excellent preacher, and most dearly beloved at How- 
ley. The people would have plucked out their eyes to haTe 
saved his life." 


Mr. Sht^pard'a plan for procuring fancts for the lapport of Indigent students. 
— Defense of the Nino Positions. — Letter from Mr. Hooker. — Chnracler 
of the nnawer to Ball. — Mr, Cotton's opinion of the work. — Influeoco 
of Mr. Shepard in proeuring tho Cambridge Plalforui. — Letter from Mr. 
Booker. — Character of the platform, — Commendation of Higi^inson and 
Oakea. — Birth of a son, and nuddeo death of Mn, Shepard. 

In consequence of the general poverty and destitution of the 
colony referred to in the foregoing chapter, which had almost 
, driven Mr. Shepard from Cajnbridge, the college, in whose pros- 
peri^ he felt the deepest interest, was in a languishing condition. 

• Hulchinion's MS, Papers, vol. i. p, 100. 


Its funds were altogether insufTicicDt U> accomplUli llie purpose 
for which it was foandcd ; and euch was thu scarcity of money, 
that many youog men, who were desirous ot obtaioing a liberai 
education, were utterly unable to meet the expense of a resi- 
dence at Cambridge. At this crisis, 5Ir. Sbepard, ever fore- 
tnosl in promoting the cause of religious education iu the colony, 
conceived the plan of procuring voluntary contributjona of corn j 1 
— money being out of the question — from all parts of New ^ ■ 
England, for ihe maintenance of indigent students. When iho 
commissioners of the united colonies o£ Massachusetts, Ptym- 
ooth, Connecticut, and New Haven met nt Hartford, in IC'lV 
Mr. Shepard, being in Connecticut, laid his plan before that body 
in the following noble memorial: — 

"To THE noaoRED CoiraissiOKEits: — 

" Those whom GJod hath called to attend the welfare of reli- 
gious commonwealths have been prompt to extend their care 
for the good of public schools, by means of which the common- 
wealth may be furnished with knowing and understanding men 
u all calling, and the church with an able minister in all places ; 
without which it is easy to see how both these estates may de- 
cline and degenerate into gross ignorance, and consequently into 
great and universal profaneness. May it please you, therefore, 
among other things of common concernment and public benefit, 
to take into your consideration some way of comfortable mnin- 
leiiance for that school of Ihc prophets that now is. For al- 
liiuugh hitherto God hath carried on the work by a special hand, 
■nd that not without some evident fruit and success, yet it is 
fbutid by loo sad experience, that, for want of some external sup- 
plies, many are discouraged from sending their children, though 
preguKitt and fit to tnke the least impression thereunto ; others 
that arc sent, their parents enforced to take them away loo soon 
lo their own homes too of), as not able (o minister any comfort- 
able and seasonable maintenance therein ; and those that are 
continned, not without much pressure, generally, to the feeble 
ttbililies of their parents or other private friends, who bear tho 


burden therein itlune. If, therefore, it were rei*mmended by 
you to ihe freedom of every family that is lible and willing 
to give, throughout llie plantation^ to give but llit^ fourth part 
of a bushel of coru, or something e(]uival<;nt thereto; und to 
this end, if every minister w-ere desired to stir up the hearts of 
die |>eople, once in the tSlte^t seiiHin of the year, to be freely en- 
larged therein ; and one or tvo fiiitbful and lit men apixiinted in 
ench town lo receive and seftsonubly to send in what eliiill be thus 
given by ihum, — it is conceived, thai, as no man would feel any 
grie\'ance hereby, so it would be a blessed means of comforiitble 
provision for the diet of divers such students ns may stand in need 
of some support, and be thought meet and worthy lo be coiitiii- 
ued a Rt season tharein. And because it may seem an unmeet 
thing for this one to suek und draw away all that nouriHhtnenl 
nhieb the like schools may need in after times in other colonies, 
your wisdom may therefore set down what llroilation you please, 
or choose any other way you shall think more meet for this 
desired present supply. Your religious care hereof, as it can not 
but be pleasing to Him whose you are, and whom you now 
8cr\e, so fruit hereof may hereafter abundantly satisfy you that 
your labor herein hath not been in vain." " 

This memorial was received by the commissioners with much 
favor. They cordially approved of Mr. Mhepard's plan, and 
ordered that it should be recommended lo the deputies of Ihe 
several General Courts, and to the elders within the four colo- 
nics, to call for a voluntary contribution of one peck of corn, or 
twelve pence in money, or its equivalent in other commodities, 
from every family — a recommendation which was adopted by 
the courts, and very generally responded to with great alacrity 
by the people, suitable persons being appointed in all the ton-ns 
to receive and disburse (he donations.t 

Thus, through Ihe influence of Mr. Shepard, the first char- 
itable provision for the support of indigent scholare in New 

• Hu>Td'iSt*teFftpMi, p, IT. t W^Atop'a Joani«l,il.lU. 


■ Snglaitd was mmle at Cambridge ; and H noble exnmple of zeal 
■ Ihe iKlvsiicement of learning nas exiiibiied, lunid^t poverty 
■Iwnisbip, and sutTerings, ihitt miglil easily liave l>een plended in 
i excuse for the indefinite potitponement of thii) work. Mitssachu- 
f weu», in later times, haa produced many liberal bcnefaciors of 
\ Harvard and otber college?, but none deserving of higher honor 
lian Shepanl, and those public-xpi riled men whom he inspired 
rith a zeal in behalf of this insiiluiton. whieh carried ihem to 
I Uie wttent of their power, " yea, and beyond (heir power," in 
I nipplying its wants. 

At this period of hia life, Mr. Shepard wos equally zealous 
and sueccwful in the work of estahlishing and vindicating those 
principles, and that ecclcsiastienl polity, which have ever dialin-v 
gai^hed Ma^achuselts as a religions commonwealth. In connee- 
tioD with Cotton, Hooker, and Norton, he exerted a controlling 
iafluencc in organising and settling the Congregational churches 
npoa (hat foundation where they have stood until this day. 

In the year 1636, a number of Puritan ministers in England, 
kaTing been informed that the churches of New England had 
adopted a new mode of discipline, which inany deemed erroneous, xy' 
and which they themselves hiu] formerly disliked, addressed to 
ttem a letter containing nine questions or propositions, Upon 
which their mature opinion was requested ; at the same time 
Hsuring them, tlmt. if their answer was gatisfactory, they should 
receive the right hand of fellowship ; if otherwise, their error 
ibouliJ be pointed out and eondemncd. 

The propositions which the New England ministers were un- 
4entood to have adopted, and which they were now required to 
'defend or to renounce, were the following, viz.: That a pre- 
■eribed form of prayer, and set Liturgy, is unlawful ; that it is 

A lawful to join in prayer, or to receive the sacrament, where I 
• prescribed Liturgy it used ; that the children of godly and ap- | 
proved Christians are not to be baptized until their parents ' 
bMomo regular members of some particular congregation ; ' 
It the parents themselves, though of ap|>rored piety, ar« 
t to be received to the Lord's supper until they are ad- 
roL. I. n 


] mitled as members ; ihat the power of esconimunicniioii is so in 
I the bodj of the churcb, that what the major part thail decide 
It be done, though thu parties, and the real of the assembly', 
are of another iniiid ; that none are to be admitted as members 
unlesa they promise nol to depart or to remove without the con- 
sent of the congregation ; that a minister is so the minisler of a 
particular congregalion, that, if they dislike him unjustly, or 
leave him, he ceases to be their minister ; that one minister can 
not perform any ministerial act in another congregation ; thai 
members of one congregation may not communicate in an- 

This latter was immediately answered in a pamphlet contain- 
, ing the views of the New England ministers upon these points, 
^ which were the same, in substance, as those maintained in Cot- 
ton's " Way of the Congregational Churches," and afterward 
more fully unfolded and vindicated in " The Power of the 
Keys." To tliis answer a reply was, at the request of the Eng- 
luh brethren, drawn up by Mr. John Ball, minister of Whilmore, 
near Newcastle, in Staffordshire, entitled " A Trial of the New 
Church Way in New England and in Old." The first copy of 
this reply, sent in 1C40, having miscarried, another was pre- 
pared, which, afler much delay, finally came to hand about the 
year 1644. The mauifolil errors rcspectiiig the eecleaiastiL-al 
polity of our fathers, and the gross misrepresentations of ihc 
principles and practices of these churches, which this book con- 
tained, induced Mr. Shepard, with the cooperation of Air. Allen, 
of Dedham, to attempt a thorough discussion of these points, 
which he did in an elaborate treatise, entitled " A Defense of 
the Answer made unto (he Nine Que.^tions or Positions sent 
from New England, against tlie liepty thei-eto by that Reverend 
Servant of Christ, Mr. John Ball, entitled ■ A Trial of the New 
Church Way in New England and in Old;' wherein, besides a 
more full Opening of sundiy Particulars concerning Liturgies, 
Power of the Keys, Matter of the Visible Church, etc., is more 
largely handled that Controversy cont^ming the Catholic 
Church ; tending to clear up the Old Way of Christ in New 

;PAI(D. clix 

England Cliiirclies." Tlie first edition of this book mas printed 
at I/ondon. in lli'18. Inn subsequent edition, printed in 16d3, this 
long nn<t cumbrous title was abridged, and the name of Mr. Allen 
omillcd, while the preface is subscribed with both names, as in 
the first edition.* 

In this treatise, &fr. Shepard expluns and defends the viewa'^/^ 
of onr New England fathers, respecting the worship and dis- 
cipline of the church, with extraordinary learning, ability, and 
acuteness. Mr. Hooker, in a letter to Mr. Shepard, written 
About the time that the Questions made their appearance, had 
expressed the fear " that the first and second questions, touching 
ft staled form of prayer," would " prove very hard to make any 
luuidsome work upon ;" and that " a troublesome answer might 
be returned lo all the arguraenls." The answer to the Nine 
Positians had admitted that a form of prayer is not in itself un- 
lawful ; and Mr. Hooker feared, (bat, in defending this admission, 
Ur. Shepard would expose himself and bis brethren to (he charge 
of isoonsislency. 

Notwithstanding Mr. Hooker's fears and forebodings Mr. 
Shepard succeeded in making very " handsome work " upon oil 
the points respecting which the author of the letter required 
Wttsfaction ; and gave an answer to Mr. Ball's reply, which, so 
far from involving the Congregational ists in difficulty, was (ho 
means of silencing the objections which had been made against 
them, and of satisfying the English brethren that their position 
was impregnable. He shows clearly that what Mr. Ball had 
■tignuitixed as " A New Church Way " was in truth no other 
than the "old church way of godly reformers;" that "the mend- 
ing of some crooks in an old way " does not make a new road ; 
and that, in the constitution of ilie New England churches, both 
with respect to worship and discipline, the true scriptural jnodel 
hod been constantly kept in view. 

On the subject of a Liturgy, there was a slight shade of diflTer- 
«nca between Mr. Shepard and his father-in-law. Mr. Hooker 

* Uubary'g Uiilorical Memorkli, iil, 33. 

thought it would be bctit^r to maintni>i that " nil nvl forms tire un- 
lawful, either in public or in privntu," than to ilcfi^nd Mr. Cot- 
ton's pwilion. In a letter to Mr. Sliepard, tie says, " Air. Ball, 
I suppose, haih a right and li'uc eause to defend in the former 
part of his book, and handles it well ; and though I think it 
m»y receive another rttturo, because there is some room for a 
reply, yet if he iiit it in that, I suppose the next rejoin will 
siltnice. Only I confess, I liad rather defend the cause upon this 
Bupposal — that all set forms are unlawful either in publie or in 
private, than to retire to that defense of Mr. Cotton's ; that it is 
lawful to use a form in private, or occasionally in public, but not 
ordinarily ; for, to my small conceit, be doth in such a distinction 
tradtre cauaam, and ihHt fully. For if I may use a form in 
private, then a form hath not the essence of an image in it, 
Hgfunst the second commandment, for that is not to be used at 
all ; then a slated form is not opposite to the pure worship in 
spirit and truth, fur then it should not he used in private ; then 
to bring in a book for the perfor 
bring in an altar, for that would he u 
if lawful to use a printed prayer i 
essentials of true prayer ; tlien it 
with preaching a printed sermon, oi 

neither of these have the essentials of preaching : hence a 
may exercise the gift of prayer, and the graces of the Spirit in 
so praying, because it is a lawful prayer." * . . . 

Mr. Shepard, without discussing the iiucstion whether all furms 
of prayer, under all circumstances, are unlawful, declares that 
this was not the question upon which the Congregationalists 
separated from Uic church of England. It was the particular 
Liturgy of that church, — which "was the same that was in 
Popery for substance," having been " gathered out of the Mass 
Book," which required many unscriptural ceremonies and idola- 
trous gestures, — which was never commanded by God, but im- 
posed upon the churuh by the " insolent tyranny of the usurping 

of this duty is not to 
ilawful in private. Again : 

private, then bath it the 
a not of the same nature 

reading a homily, because 

n'n MS. P«p«r«, vol. L 



prelalcf," — which had been "greatlj abused unio iiioUlry and 
SI){>er$tFlioa," — which mode every pan of its complex service a 
matter of life and death, — nliich was uplield and eoforccd bjr / 
the whole physical jwwer of the stale, — it \iasthis Liturgy ihri*' 
they retwnnced and condemned as a comipl service book, which 
had been too lon^ tolerated in the English churches. Mr. Ball 
had made a false is$ue in discussing the lawfulness of forms of 
prayer in general, while the whole controversy turned upon the 
fulness of submitting to this particular Liturgy. " All of QS 
.eould not concur," e&js Ur. Shepard, " to condemn all set forma 
H unlawful ; yet we could in this, namely, that though aomc set 
Ibmis may be lawfuL yet it will not follow that this of the Eng- 
bb Liturgy b." It became necessary, therefore, to " distinguish 
forms, and so touch the true Helena of litis controversy ; and 
therefore if any shall observe Mr. Bull's large defense of set 
I in general, they shall find those wingn spread forth in a 
very great breadlU to give some shelter and wartnlh to Ibat par- 
ticular Lilnrgy then bnguishing, and hastening, through age and 
feebleness, toward its last end." " 

With respect to the discipline of the New England churches, / 
Hr. Shepard clearly distinguishes Congregationalism from Brown- v 
{pt Independency,) on the one hand, and from Presbyterian- ^ 
M the other. Browniam, he shows, places the entire govern- ^ 
'. of the church in the hands of the people, and drowns the 
Toice of the paslon in a major vote of the brethren, who were 
content, aa AVard of Ijiswich wittily ol>served, ihut the eldera 
■bould " sit in the saddle, if they might hold the bridle." Pres- 
fcyterianism, on the contrary, commits the whole power of disci- 
^ine to the presbytery of each church, or to the common presby- 
tery of many churchee combined together by mutual consent, y 
Aaa swallowing up the interests of the people of every congre- 
gation in [he majority of the presbyteries : while, in tlia 
orgBoixalion of the Congregational churches, both extremes are 1 1 
here ihown to be avoided by a wi^e and judicious distribution of 

* Defense of Xine I'o^ltioni, rh. i\ , paiiim. 


power into different bands, which neither subjects the people 
to the arbitrary decision of the pmiors, nor merges the nuibor- 
ity of the pastors in the will of the majority.* 

Mr. Shcjiard here distinguishes between the power and the 
txeeution of discipline — the point upon which Mr. Buckley 
requested information in ihe letler wUich has been nlrendy re- 
ferred to. It belongs to the brethren, or body of the chun'h. to 
L censure an offending brolber by admonition, suspension, or 
excommunication, as iiis offense may require ; but in bundling 
offenses before the cburcb, it is the prerogative of the pastor to 
declare ilie counsel and will of God respecting the matter, and 
to pronounce sentence by the authority of Christ with the consent 
of the brethren.t "Wo distinguish," says Mr. Shepard, "be- 

itween power and authority. There is a power, right, or privi- 
lege which is not authority, properly so called. Tbe first is in 
the whole church, by whic^h they have right to choose officers, 
receive members, etc. Aulborily, properly so called, we ascribe 
only lo ihe otficera, under Christ, lo rule and govern, whom the 
church must obey." X 

It was falsely imputed to the Congregationalisls, he says, that 
they "set up a popular government, making the elders of the 
church no more but moderators, and that ministers received their 
power from the people, were their servants, and administered in 
their name, when we oft profess the contrary — ibat all authority, 
properly so called, is in the bunds of the elders, and the liberty 
of tbe people is lo be carried in a way of subjection and obedience 
to them in tbe Lord." S The olfice of ibe pastor, as be describes 
it in another place, " is the immediate inatilutioa ol' Christ ; tbe 
gifts and the power belonging thereto are from Christ imme- 
diately, and therefore he ministers in his name, and must give 
account to him ; and yet his outward call to this office, whereby 
he hath authority to administer the holy things of Christ to the 

Defenae of Nine Posiliona, ch. xiv. *S. 

] Cambridge PI«ironn, ch. x. - — ^ 

t Defenie of Nice Posilioni, p. 129. 

( Prsfac* VI I>i!fi.-ni.e of Nine Poiilioni, p. 13. 

LIFE ov THOius SHBPARu. dxiii 

church, is from Cliriat by hia church ; and ibis mnkes bim do 
more the e«rviint of the church Ehan a captAin, bj leave of the 
general, chosen by the band of soldiers, h the servant of his band." 
*■ If," he goes on to say, " the power, privilege, and liberty of 
the people be rightly distinguished from the authority of the olli- 
oeni, as it ouglii, a dim »ight may easily perceive how the exe- 

on of tlie keys, by the officers authoritatively, may stand 
with the libeniea of the people in their place, obediently follow- 
, ing and concurring with their guides, so long as they go along 
with Christ their King, and his laws ; and cleuving in their obe- 
dience to Christ, and dissenting frmn their guides, only when 
they forsiike Christ in their administnitions. If there need any 
ocular demouilration hereof, it is at hand in all civil adminis- 
trations wherein the execution of laws and of justice is in 
the bands of the judges, and the privilege, power, or liberty of 
the people in the hands of jurors. Both sweully concur in every 

i, both civil and criminal. Neither is the use of a jury only 
to lind the fact done, or not done, — as some answer this instance, 
— but also (he nature and degree of ihc fact, in reference to the 
law that awards answerable punishments ; as, whether the fuel 
be simple theft or burglary, murder or manslaughter, etc ; 
■nd so in cases of damages, costs in civil cases, etc. ; whereby it 
appears that, alihough the [tower and privilege of the people be 
great, yet the execution, authoritatively, may be wholly in the 
flificers." * From these principles it followed, as the pUtform 
afWrward dcclnred, that all church acts proceed after the man- -^ 
•rr of a mixed adraini^tralion, in such a way that no church act 
ean bo regarded as valid without the consent of both.f 

Every thing, in short, ncces.iary to n clear understanding of 
die discipline and order of the early New England churches, b 

Joined and vindicated in this treatise, with a degree of learu- 
■ ing Hod ability unsurpassed in any work of our Puritan fathers ; 
no one can read it attentively without assigning to its authors 

• Defenifl of Nine Posilioni, pp. lao, 131 
I CuuLn4)[«i'laUurm, cb.x 


a higli jiliice nmong llie conlroversial writers of that age. The 
estimation iu which ihis work was held by Mr. Sliepard's con- 
temporaries may be inferred from a single sentence in Cotton's 
eloquent Latin Preface to Norton's Ansn-cr lo ApoUonius, writ* 
ten in 1645, and printed at London in 1648. Al^cr !^peiiking of 
the labors of Hooker, Davenport, and Mather with high eom- 
tnendalion, lie refers lo Shepaid and Allen, as men of eminent 
piety, distinguished fur erudition, nnd powerful preachers, who 
had accomplished a great work for the cliun^h, by happily solv- 
ing some of the abstrusest points of ecclesiastical discipline in tlie 
answer to. Ball ; and whose argumenli', uttered in the spirit of 
piety, truth, and the love of Christ, were adapted to concitialfl 
opposers, and recommend the order of our churches to all 

Upon the principles bo ably unfolded and defended in 
this treatise, and in others already referred to, although 
not digested into a system, nor formally adopted, the cliurclies 
of Ma.ssacliu3etts were founded, and all ecclesiastical affairs con- 
duded,from the time of Mr. Cotton's arrival, in 1683, until the 
adoption of the Cambridge Platform in 1648. Mr. Shepard's 
personal agency in the production of this digest of the principles 
and uses of the churches does not appear very clearly in the history 

* Srjiliarcdus (qui rernnrulo idiumato Slicpardus) una cum Atlcnia 
fralrc, rrairum dulcc par, uti CKimin pii:latu florenl nmliu, et vrudiiione non 
mBdiocri, Btqni; oliam oivaieriorum pEclalis prfedicalione (per ClirUli 
gratiam) cfflcafi admodum, its cgrcgiain navnrunt opcraro in abslrusijaiini* 
discipline ncidis rdiciter cnodandia: et dum rei aponaum parent, alque 
nunc etiam edunl Domino Baleo, hod illi quidom aaliafikclam eunt (nai 
sMia jam aperte videl in beatilica. A^i Tisioue, iutroilas omnes if^us 
Gxitns, formu et leges culeBlia Ilienisalem) led iii omnihua, qui per univcr- 
■am Brilanninm in ei-clealia ChrUti peregrinaulur, et rei disci pi inariie atudi- 
oaiu* appellernnc Verba horum fratrum nti insTiler apiraat pietnlem, 
veritatem, cliuritalcm Cliriali ; its speramna fore, (p«r Cbriati graliain,) nt 
DiDlli qni a disciplina Cliritii alieuiores enuit, odon: horum nnguenlomnl 
Chrisli effusonim dclibati atqne delincti, ad amorem ejus el pellcpii cl ptr- 
tracti, cam avidias accipiant, alque amplexenttu'. 


of those times ; but there are several circumstances from which 
ve maj reaaonahly infer that it was rerj great. It haa already 
been stated that Mr. Shepurd wiis at Hartford in 1G44, and laid 
^fore the conmiisgioDers for the united colonies, who met there 
at that time, a memorial touching some provision to be made for 
■ndigent students in Harvard College. Now. it bo happened, 
[ that meeting of the commissioners, the idea of a public 
confession of faith, and a plan of church government, to be ap- 
proved by the churches in a general syntxl, and published as a 
book of doctrine and discipline, was, so far as we know, first 
■u^ested and discussed.* Nothiog is more probable than that 
Ur. Shepard suggested this plan to the commissioners, and urged 
ihcm to adopt some meaiture by which it could be properly 
brought before the court and the churches. 

Be this, however, as it may, the commissioners at that time 
uunk the first step toward the convocation of the synod which ^ 
produced the Cambridge Flatfonn, by agreeing to lay this sub- (/ 
ject before the l^neral Court of Massachusetts. Accordingly, 
in the year 1646, a bill was brought into the General Court for 
calling a synod, to accomplish the end proposed by the conunis- 
nooers. The magistrates readily passed the ImII ; but there 
was a question among the deputies whether tlie court could le- 
^ly require the churches to send their pastors and delegates to 
■orb a synod ; and a fear was expressed that if the civil authority 
•boukl thus interpose in ecclesiastical matters, a precedent might 
be established which would justify the court in attempting to en- 
fonw upon the chur«he« a uniformity entirely subvereive of Ciiris-i 
tiuo liberty. It was also objected that the sole purpose of the 
proposed synod was to construct a platform of discipline for all 
the churches, to be reported to the General Court for its approval, 
which seemed to imply that either the court or the synod liad 
power to compel the churches to practice what should be thus es> 
tabli»hed and recommended. In view of these objections, and 
from deference to the fears of those deputies who offered them, 

• HasMd's Bute Pipwi, U. M. 


il was finally ordered that Iho synod should be culled by way 
of a recominendttlion, and not of a command, addressed to 
the churches.* 

Mr. Hooker, writing to Mr. Shepard respecting the great ob- 
ject of this synod, expresses his views of the plan, and his fears 
leet the authority of the magialraie and the binding power of 
synods should be pressed too far. 

" Deab Son : We are now preparing for your synod. My 
years and infirmities grow so fast upon roe, that they wholly dis- 
enable to so long a journey ; and because I can not come 
myself, I provoke as many elders as I can to lend their help and 
presence. My brother Stone and my cousin Slehbings come 
from our church, and I think the rest of the elders of the 
river will accompany them. The Lord Christ be in the midst 
among you by his guidance and blessing. ... I have returned, 
and do renew thanks for the letter and copy of the passages of 
the synod. I wish there may not be a misunderslonding of some 
things by some, or that the binding power of synods be not 
pressed too much. For — I speak it only to yourself — he that ad- 
ventures far in that business will find hot and hard work, or else 
my perspective may fail, which I confess may be : roy eyes grow 
dim. I could easily give way to arguments that urge the help 
of a synod to counsel ; hut a^ for more, I find no trouble in my 
thoughts to answer all I ever yet heard propounded. I find Mr. 
Butherford and Apotlonius to give somewhat sparingly to the 
place of the magistrate to put forth power in the calling of syn- 
ods J wherein I perceive they go cross lo some of our most se- 
rious and judicious writers; and, if I mistake not, they cross 
their own principles sometimes. I confess I am apt to give too 
much to the supreme magistrat« in some men's thoughts, and 
I give not much lo the church's authority. However, I shall not 
trouble you with my thoughts ; ^ut bene latvtt bene tnxit. I could 
have wished that none of the copies sent to us had been sent to 

• Hnbbard'i Hist, N. Eng. ch. S8. 


Eagland ; ihe reason my brother Slnne will relule when he sees 
you ; fur it ia too large, and not so sale to commit to paper. The 
blessing of Heaven be with you. 

■' EntKat Mr. Eliot to send me some grnfts of a great yellow 
■pple he hath, which I liked exceedingly when I was with him 
the last time. 7'oliii luus, 

T, HooKEn." • 

The synod met at Cambridge in the autumn of the year 1 616 ; 
linl so late in rhe season, and so few of the pastors incited from X 
the oilier iKttonies were able to be present, that, aficr a session of 
fourteen days, it was adjourned 10 the 8th day of June of the 
following year, 1647. 

They met according to a<)joumment ; bat nt the time of meet* 
ing a great siclinesB was prevailing in the country, and it was 
•gain adjourned to the SOth of September, 1G48. At this meet- 
ing of the synod, the confession of faith, and plalfonn of church X 
government, after thorough discussion, were adopted and laid 
before the General Court for tlieir approval ; and the court, at its 
next scsMon, formally accepted and approved the platform, de- 
elaring that it was what the churches had hitherto practiced; 
and, in their judgment, as to its essentijd principles, altogether in 
accordance with the word of God. Thus the Cambridge Plat- 
form became a part of the laws and usages of the commonwealth 
of Mas«acliusells, and, tor substance, is still followed by llie Con- 
gregational churches throughout New England. 

Of this work it is scarcely possible to speak too highly. It 
wai Ihe production of men distinguished for preeminent talenta, 
learning, and piety, — for their sacrittces and sufferings in the 
cause of religious liberty, -7- and for their untiring «ea! for the 
prosperity of the church ; and, as a whole, may be pronounced 
tlie most scriptural and excellent model of church government 
-which has been framed since llic time of the apostles. The 
fathers of New England, both civil and religious, regarded it, 

• Uuchiuon'iMS. Papcn, voL i. 


aiiJ the authors of it, with extrnordinary respect ; and if in these 
days there are any who profess lo hold it in slight estimalion, it 
ia because thej are either uiiitc<]uainted with its real eiiaracler, 
or have forsaken the fuilli and order of the Puritans. " We who 
saw the persons, who, from our famous colonies, assembled in the 
eynod llint agreed upon the Platform of Church Discipline," — 
Hiicli is the language of Higginson and Hubbard, near the close 
of that century, — "can not forget their excellent character. 
They were of great renown in ihe nation from which the Laud- 
ian persecution exiled thera, Their learning, their hohness, 
their gravity struck all men with admiration. They were 
Timothys in iheir houses, Chrysostoins in their pulpits, Augus- 
tines in their dispulations. The prayers, the studies, the humble 
inquiries, with which they sought after the mind of God, were aa 
likely to prosper as any meo's on earth. And tiie sufferings 
wherein they were confessors for the name and the truth of our 
Lord Jesus Christ, add unto the arguments which would persuade 
us that our gracious Lord would reward and honor ihem with 
communicating much of his truth unlo them. The famous 
Brighlman had foretold that GoA would yet reveal more of the 
true church state to some of his faithful servants, whom he 
would send into the wildemega, that he might have communion 
with them ; and it was eminently accomplished in what was 
done for and by the men of God that flrgt erected churches for 
him in this American wilderness." * 

If the ecclesiastical principles, so clearly developed in the plat- 
form, were solemnly reaitirmed by a body, which, like the synod 
that formed it, should represent ttie Congregational churches of 
New England, and this book — with such modifications as time 
and change have rendered necessary — were universally re- 
ceived as authorilalive in respect to church discipline, many 
growing evils might, perhaps, receive a check, and Ihe unity and 
strength of our denomination be greatly promoted. Such a 
movement, devoutly to be wished by all who love the institutions 

* Uigginagn's luid tlnbbwd't TMlimony lo the Order of the Churches. 



of the Puritans, may possibly find lavor with the churchcB ; and 
Cambridge, the ancieDt place of synods, may again nitoees a gath- 
ering like that of 1648. In the mean time, the more closely we 
adhere to the scheme of ecclesiastical polity set forth by tbat 
venerable assembly, ibe more confidently may ve expect that 
Congregational iGm will maiataio its ascendency in New England, 
and commend itself to the consciences and the hearta of inlelli- 
geat ChriBtians throughout our country. 

tVliile Mr. Shepard was tbus engaged in labors abundant and 
fruitful for the advancement of the great work which he and his 
noble associntes came into " these ends of the earth " lo do, ho 
ns visited by an unexpected and grievous calamity. On the 
Sd day of April, 1646, the Lord gave him nnnrhpr inn, but took i 
^waj his " most dear, precious, meek, and loving wife, tu child- 
Bp^^f^ three weeks lying in," leaving him again desolate in his 
lpd|i^ Urs. Sbepard, from all that can be learnt of her, seems 
^knn been worthy of the tender epithets which her bereaved 
luuband here bestows upon her. She was evidently a woman 
•f superior oiind and attainments, of great prudence, of an 
exceedingly amiable dispoaiiion, and of eminent piety. " Tins 
affliction," says Mr. Shepard, " was very great. She was a wo- 
man of incomparable meekness of spirit, toward myself espedal- 
ly, and very loving: of great prudence to care for and order 
ny family affairs, being neither too lavish nor sordid tn any 
thing, so thai I knew not what was under her band. . . . Tlia 
Lord hath mode her a great blessing to me lo carry on matters 
In lli« family with much care and wisdom. . . . She had 
an cRCellency Ui reprove for sin, and discern the evils of men. 
She loved God's people dearly, and was studious to profit by 
their fellowship, and therefore loved their company. She loved 
; God's word exceedingly, and hence she was glud she could read 
<-tBJ notes, which she bad lo muse on every week. She had a 
apirit of prayer beyond ordinary of her time and experience. 
8be waj St to die long before she did die, even after the death 
tt her first born, which was a great aJUiction lo her. But her 
■rork not being done then, she Uved almost nine years with me, 


and tvaa the comfort of my life to me ; and the last sacrament 
before her lying in seemed to be full of Christ, and thereby fitted 
for heaven. She did oft say she should not outlive this child ; 
aad when her fever first begun, by taking some cold, she told me 
that we should love one another exceedingly, because we 
should not live long together. Her fever took away her sleep ; 
want of sleep wrought much distemper io her head, and filled it 
with fantasies and distractions, but without raging. The night 
before she died, she had about six hours' unquiet sleep. But 
that so cooled and settled her head, that when she knew none 
else, so as to speak to ihem, yet she knew Jesus Christ, and 
could speak to him ; and therefore, as soon as she awakeneil out 

of sleep, she bcokc out into a nii>Bt hoovonly, hoart-bruaking 

prayer after Christ, her dear Hedeemer, for the Spirit of life, and 
so coniinued praying, to the lost hour of her death, ' Lord, though 
I am unworthy, one word — one word,' etc, and so gave up the 
ghost. Thus the Lord hath visited and scourged me for my 
. sins, and sought to wean me from this world. But I have ever 
found it a ditHcult thing to profit even but a little by the sorest 
and sharpest afflictions." 


Itidiui mission. — Establishmeat of an ladlka lecture >1 Cambridgs. — Mr. 
Shtipard's inlorcst in the Indian misaion. — "Clear ■nnBhine,*' — Mr. 
Shepard maTries Margaret Boradel. — SidLnes* and death. — Last will. 
— Mr. Shopard'g preaching. — Opinion of contimpornrics respecting his 
osBfulncBs. — Character of Mr. Shepard'a writings. — Objections agaiaal 
some of bra practical works anawcrcd. — Letter to Giles Fcrmin. — Opin- 
ion of several dirtnes respecting Mr. Shepard's works. — Personal reli- 
gion. — Conclusion, 

The labors and influence of Mr. Shepard, and of those good 
men with whom he was associated, were directed chiefly, as has 
been seen in the foregoing chaplerB, to the occompiishmeut of 
their first great underinking, which was to found a truly Chris- 


titui commonweallh in New Englaad, where tlie;f and their 
pMteritj jnight enjoy civil and religious freedom. But they 
did not forget or neglect anolher important work, wliicb was to 
preach the gospel to the notiTea of this country, and to bring these ' i 
poor outcasts lo the knowledge of God. 3Iany persons ignorant j 
of the history of those timei^ and disposed to find fault with our 
fiuhiT!, not only with but without CHUse, have severely censured 
them for what has been called their unjust and cruel treatment of 
poor Indians, iheir uttiT neglect of the wants, both temporal 
ftnd spiritual, of the original owners of the soil, whom they vio- 
knlly expelled, and the selfishnesa which characterized all iheir 
treutmeat of those to whom they owed their coroforlablo home 
on these shores. ThU is not Ibe place for the defense of the 
eolonists from this charge, or for the history of early Indian - 
missions in New England. That work belongs appropriately 
to the Life of Eliot, the " Apostle to the Indians." The only 
object in referring to the subject here is, lo show how deeply 
Ur. .Shepard was interested in all eHbrts to civilise and Chris-.y 
ttaniie the natives of Massachusetts. It will suffice to say — and 
the facts will warrant the assertion — that the government and 
the churches of this state, in their deep poverty and innumerable 
hindcrances, did very much — as much, probably, in proportion 
to their ability — for the propagation of the gospel among the 
Indiiuis on this part of the continent, as is done now, with all 
our means, for the conversion of the heathen abroad or at home- 
It is a fact which will ever be remembered to the glory of God, 
■ad to ihe praise of our fathers, that the first Protestant mission 
to the heathen, since the time of the apostles, was commenced' 
among the Indians in the town of Cambridge in Massachusetts ; I 
and that the first translation of the Bible by an Anglo-Saxon J 
Into a heathen language was made by John Kliol, pastor of the 
ehurr-h in Koxbury, and printed at Cambridge, where the tirst 
Protestant sermon in a pagan tongue was delivered. Legal 

made by the government for the support of j 
ng these Indians. Schools were established for 1 
itf their children. Courts were established for 


clixii LIFi: Ol' THOKAd 

the especial purpose or protecting their rights, and of punishing 
tresposseB against them. Greiit and good men, among whom 
Eliot and Shepard stand preeminent, devoted themselves lo the 

< difficult vrork of establishing the institutions of the gospel among 
tbem. and leading them to obedience lo the laws of Christ. A 
college building was erected at Cambridge expressly for the pur- 
pose of giving lo Indian youth a. liberal education, that tliey 
might become teachers, ministers, and magistrates among their 
countrymen; and although cliis design proved abortive, the fail- 
ure was owing not to any want of zeal in tliose who commenced 
it, hut to the inherent and insurmountable difficulty of the work 
itself. Not a foot of land, for which an owner could be found, 
vaa ever taken by the early settlers without ample remunera- 
tion i and if we hear of Indian wars, they were wars in wjiich 
the colonists were compelled to defend their lives and their law- 
ful possesaions against the unprovoked attacks of savage and 
relentless foes. It was one part of their original design, as we 
have said, to '■ advance the honor of God, of their king and 
country, by this settlement, without injury lo the native in- 
habitants." They meant " to take nothing but what lite Indians 
were willing to dispose of; nor to interfere with them, except for 
the maintenance of peace among them, and the propagation oi 

Mr. Shepard, if not the most prominent i^cnt in this good 
. work, was nevertheless a most zealous and faithful promoter of 

/\ it. There was probably no one, except Mr. Eliot, to whom the 
Indians were more indebted for those measures which concerned 
their civil or their spiritual welfare, The first missionary station, 
I where Mr. Eliot statedly preached to them, was fixed at Nonau- 
tum, in Cambridge, in the year 1G46. Mr. Shepard watched 
I over the infant church gathered there with parental solicitude 
and kindness. Fie frequently attended the weekly lecture held 
by Mr. Ehot; and although he could not preach in the Indian 
language, yet several tracts, written by him for this purpose, were 
translated by his friend, and be was thus enabled to teach them 
the rudiments of the oracles of God. And thus Cambridge has 

HOUAS sUEPAos. cksiii 

the honor of fiimiahing not only the firet henlher mission, but 
the first Protesiant Imct, and ilie first Protestant translatioD 
of ihe Bible in a heathen huiguage. 

Mr. Shepord has given nn interesting account of the progress 
of the work in and about 'Cambridge, in a letter to a frieoil in 
Enghind, which was aflerirnrd published under Ihe title of " The ^ 
Clear Sunshine of the Gospel breaking forth upon the Indians '\ 
iti New England," designed especiallj to describe the effect of 
Ur. Kliot'a labors, but incidentally exhibiting his own interest 
ftnd agency in the mission. During the winter, he was confined 
ftt home; but on the 3d of March, 1647, he attended the Indian 
lecture, " where Mr. Wilson, Mr. Allen, of Dedhom, Mr. Dun- 
■ler, beside many other Christians, were present ; on which duy, 
perceiving divers of llie Indian women well affected, and con- 
sidering that their souls might stand in need of answers to their 
■cruples as well as the men's, we did therefore desire them to 
propound anj (jueations they would be resolved about, by first 
interpreter privately them- 
<)uegtioDS thus orderly pro- 
undry others propounded of 
the Lord Jesua leading them 
igs of God, thut so they 

acquainting their husbands, c 
selves : whereupon we heard I 
pounded. At this time there we 
very good use ; in all which we i 
inquiries h 

might see the reuliiy of them. I- have beard few Christiaos, when 
(hoy begin to look toward God. make more searching questions 
that tliey might see thin^ really, and not only have a notion nf 
them. . . - From this 3d of March until the end of this 
summer, I could not be present at the Indian lectures ; but when 
I came ilie last time, I marveled to sec so many Indian men, and 
leu, and children in English apparel ; they being at Noonanc- 
gcnerally clad, especially upon lecture dayt, which they have 
gut, partly by gift, from the English, and partly by Ilieirown labors, 
by which some of them have very handsomely appareled lliem- 
•elvea, and you would scarce know them from English jieople. 
. There is one thing more which 1 would acqutunt you 
with, which happened this summer, viz. : June 9, the first day uf 
th« ifnod's meeting at Cambridge, where the forenoon was spent 


in hearing a sermon pre&ched by one of the elders, Ezekiel 
Rogers, of Rowley, as a preparation lo the work of tlie sjnod. 
The afternoon was spent in hearing an Indian lecture, where 
there was a great confluence of Indians from all parts to Hear 
Mr. Eliot ; which we conceived not unseasonable at sueh a time, 
— ])artly that the reports of God's work beguti among them 
might be seen and believed of the chief who were then seat, and 
met from all the churches of Christ in llie country, who could 
hardly believe the reports lliey had received concerning these 
new stirs among the Indians, — and partly hereby to raise up a 
greater spirit of prayer for the carrying on of the work begun 
upon the Indians, among uU the churches and servants of the Lord. 
. ., . When the sermon was done, there was a coiweiuent space 
of time spent in hearing those questions which Ihelndians publidy 
propounded, and in giving answers to them. . . . That which 
I note is this : that ihcir gracious attention to the word, the aSeo- 
tions and mourning of some of tlicm under it, their sober pro- 
pounding of divers spiritual questions, their aptness to under- 
stand and believe what was replied lo theni, the readiness of 
divers poor nuked children to answer openly the chief questions. 
in the catechism which were formerly taught them, and such 
like appearances of a great change upon them, did marvel- 
ouely alfect all the wise and godly ministers, magisttules, and 
people, and did raise their hearts up to a great thankfulness lo 
God ; very matiy deeply and abundantly mourning for joy, to 
Boe such a blessed day, and the Lord Jesus so much known and 
spoken of among such as never heard of him before." . . . 
Toward the latter part of this year, 1G47, &Ir. Shepard, lo 
gelher with Mr. Eliot and Mi-. Wilson, were invited by the in- 
p, habitants of Yarmouth to meet with some of the elders of Plym- 
outh colony for ihc purpose of settling, if [lossible, a dilGculty 
which bad been of long standing among them, and which threat- 
ened to divide and destroy the church in that place. " Where- 
in," says Mr. Shepard, " the Lord was very merciful to us and 
them, in binding them up beyond our thoughu in a very short 
time, in giving not only that bruised church, hut the whole town 

Lira or tbohas bhefakd. cIxxt 

'•Iso, a hopeful beginning of a settled peace and future quieV 

M. But Mr. Eliot, a» he take^ all oilier advantages of times, 

be took this, of speaking with and preaching to the poor In* 

£ans in those remote places about Cape Cod." " Thus you have 

;, but somewhat rent and ra^ed relation of these things ; 

h may be most suitable to the story of niLked and ragged men. 

. ir any in England doubt of llie truth of what was 

>rly writ, or if any malignant eye shall question or vilify 

&\a work, ihey will now speak too late ; for wlmt was here done 

Cambridge was not set under a bushel, but in (he open sun. 

It what Thomas would not believe by the report of others, he 

night be forced to believe by seeing with his own eyes, and 

fceling Jesus Christ ihue risen among them with his own 

iaiid." " 

On the 8ih of September, 1647, Mr, Shepard married, for 
is third wife, Margaret Iloradel, by whom he had one son, Jerc- \A 
iiab,bom August 11, lf>48. and who, at^er his death, became 
Ae wife of Jonathan Mitchell, his successor in the church at 
0am bridge. 

Mr. Shepard's work upon earth was now almost finished, and 
Ihs uMful life was rapidly drawing lo a close. Hb health had al 
period of his life been very vigorous, and he was liable U> 
'frequent attacks of illness. He was, as Johnson tells us, " a 
yoor. weak, pale-eom[)lexioned man, whose physical powers were 
fceblc. but spent to ihe full ; " and ho says of himself, that be 
■ very weak, and unSt to be tossed up and down, and to 
bear persecution." It is astonishing that with such a feeble 
liody h« was able lo endure so many " alllietionB nnd lemptK- 
lions," and to perform such an oniount of intellectual and other 
l>l>or. Ill August, IG49, upon his return from a meeting of 

l«r!i ut Rowley, he took a severe cold, which terminated in \/ 
Quinsy, accompanied by fever, and in a few days " stepped a 
■Over (nirapei from whence the people of God had ofieii heard 
tfie joyful sound of the gospel." He died August 25, 1 G49, b the 
ftMty-fourth year of bis age, universally lamented by the whola ' 

* Clear Sutuhinc, etc., puiim 


colonj, in whose service he had eshausted all liU powers. " Th« 
nest losn," says Juhoson, " wns the death of that famous preach- 
er of Uie Lord, Mr. Hooker, paslor of the church nt Hartford, 
\ and Mr. Phillips, pnslor of the church at Watertown, and 
I the holj, heaveni}', soul-affecting, soul-mTishing minister, Mr. 
I Thomas Shepard, pastor of the church at Cambridge, whose de- 
parture was very heavily taken by all the people of Christ round 
Hbout him ; and now New England, that had such heaps upon 
heaps of the riches of Christ's tender, compassionate mercies, 
being turned from his dandling kneea, began to read their ap- 
proaching rod, in the bend of his brow and frowns of his former 
favorable countenance toward thera." • 

The words of the dying are generally regarded as deeply sig- 
nificant ; and the last cxprei^ions of a soul on the verge of heaven 
are treasured up and repeated by the living as revelalions from 
the inner sanctuary of truth. The nature of the disease of which 
Mr. Shepard died perhaps prevented him from speaking much 
Qpon his death bed ; and many things which he may have said 
have not, probably, been reported to us. A few precious say 
ings, however, have been preserved, and, coming acrosiS the gulf 
of two hundred years, sound like a voice from heaven. " O, love " 
the Lord Jesus Christ very much," said he to those who stood 
by his bed side watching his ebbing breath ; " that little part 
which I have in him is no small comfort to me now." The 
pious Baily, of Watertown, has preserved in his diary a sentence 
from those dying lips whicli is worthy to form the practical 
maxim of every minister. To several young ministers who visit- 
ed him just before his decease he said, " Your work is great, and 
calls for great seriousness. As to myself, I can say three things 
Jiat the study of every sermon cost me tears ; that before 1 
preached a sermon, I got good by it myself; and that I always 
went up into the pulpit as if I were to give up my account to 
my Master." " O that my soul," adds Baily, " may rememlwr. 
Old practice accordingly." f 

• Wonder-working Proviiloncc, p. 113. 

t Extract &om Bnil/a Dior;, in AUilior's Magnulia. 


: oi' TuouAa sbcpa^bu. 


Among his dying words, and perhaps not less indicative of 
'lais spiritual stale tlmo ibo^ie already quoted, we urny place his 
Uiit will It was dictated to his frienda Daniel Gookin aud\/ 
Samuel Daafbrth but a few moments before hia spirit departed ; 
tad in the calmncM with which he diiiposcil of all hii! worldljr 
•ubslaiice fur the benefit of the liv^ing, while he gave up his soul 
lo God in the assurance of a glorious immortalitj, through the 
merits of Jvsua Christ, we see the true character and the all- 
|ierradiDg influence of his personal religion- It had been his aim 
through life to do all things to the glory of God ; and when he 
Cftme to die, it seemed to him as much an act of pietj to lake 
thought fur the welfare uf those whom he was lo leave behind 
D meditate upon the crown that awaited him in heaven. 

Or the 2oth day of the Gth month. (August.) 1649, Mr. 
Thomas Shepard, paslar of the church at Cambridge, being of 
perfect memory, and having hie understanding clear, made his 

will and testament in the presence of Daniel Gookin and 
Samuel Danforth. 

Upon the day and year above written, about two o'clock in 
the morning, he, feeling his spirits failing, commanded all ywrsona 

roid the room except those before named, and then desiring 
their ait«ndanc->e, spoke distinctly unto them as fulloweih, or 
words to like effect : — 

'I desire to take this op|K)rtuniiy to make my will, and I 
•faUnwt you to observe what I speak, and take witnesses to iL 

**' 1. I believe in the everlasting Grod the Father, and his 
Weraal Son Christ Jesus, and communion of the Holy Spirit ; 
sod this God I have chosen for my only portion : and in the 
irerlasting mercies of this same God, Father, Son, and Iluly 
Spirit, I rest and repose my soul. 

*"2. All my whole temporal estate (my debts being first paid) 
X leave with my dear wile, during her estate of widowhood : 
I she may with the same maintain herself, and educate my 
jbildren in learning, especially my sons Thomas and Samuel. 
" 'S. In case my wife marry B^ain, then my will it, that my 


wife shall Lave etich a proportiun of my estate ae 

shall judge meet. And also I give unto her the gold which ia 

in a certain box io my studj'. 

" ' i. The residue of my estate I give nnd bcquealli lo ray four 
children, as followeth, viz. : (1.) A double portion to ray tUlcst 
son, Thomad, together with my best silver tankard, and my best 
black suit and cloak, aud all my books, manuscripts and papers; 
which last named, viz., books, manuscripts and paper?, although 
the properly of my son Thomns, yet tlicy aliall be for the use 
of my wife and my olher children. (2.) To my son Samuel a 
single portion, together ivith one of my long silver bowls. (3.) 
To my son John I bequeath a single portion, with the other long 
sliver bowl. (-1.) To my son Jeremiiih a single portion, and my 
other silver tankard. 

" ' 5. I give and bequeath, as a legacy to my beloved friend 
Mr. Samuel Danforth, my velvet cloak and ten pounds. 

■"6. I give unto the elders, to be equally divided, five pounds 
that Mr. Pelliam oweth rac. 

" ' 7. I give unto my cousin Sledmnn five pounds. 

'"8. I give to Ruth Mitohenson, the elder, ten pounds. 

" ' Lastly, I do hereby appoint my dear friends and brethren, 
Daniel Gookin, Edward Collins, Edward Gotfe, and Samuel 
Danforth, to be executors of this my last will and teslamcnt.' 
Daniel Gookis, 
Samueil Danforth,"" 

Thus died Thomas Shepard, in the peace of God that passetb 
all understanding, which kept his mind and his heart through 
Jesus Christ. There is something in this dying scene which 
reminds of one of the most beautiful and afTeeting incidents in 
the life of that Saviour whom Sbcpard eo much resembled. 
" When Jesus, therefore, saw his mother, and the disciple stand- 

* The inventory of Mr. Shopnrd'i estate, consUdng of Unds, rumilore, 
and libritry, siDounted to eigjai liundred and Icn pounds nino ahillings ooo 
penoj. His books, — about two hundred and sisly in number, — together 
with Mveral MSS,, were valacd M one hundred poiindti. 


ing hj nhom he \oveA, he saith to his mother. Woman, behold 
Ihy son ! Then saith he to the disciple, Behold thy mother ! 
And from that hour that disciple look her unto hia own house." 
Mr. Shepard vas buried at CHtabrtdge amidst the regret« and 
tbe tcaK of a congregation and a college that owed, under God, 
their eiislence and their prosperity to liis devoted labora and sac- 
rifices. But " no man [now] knoweih of hia sepnlchcr." Such 
have been the changes irhich time and accidcut have produced, 
that no stone remains to mark the place of his rest, nor is it pos- 
sible to identify the grave that holds his precious dust. His 
-friend, Mr. Buckley, oa aa expression of his love and grief, 

■wrolc a Latin dcgy upon the occnaion of tie doalh, of vrhlob 

Mather has preserved tvni lines, as a coinprelien!>ive epitaph, 
descriptive at once of hia faithfulness and of his success in hia 

" Nomioia, ofGciiqi fait conrordii dalda; 

Officio pMtor, nomine Putor ermt." 

His niune Rnd office sweetl}' did ifp*^ 

Shepard by nttmi;, uid in hia mitiiiilry. 

That Mr. Shepard must have been a powerful and an efficient * 
preacher might be inferred from what we know of his spiritual 
preparation for the ministry ; of the purity and elevation of 
his personal religion ; of his close and humble wulk with Godi 
of his devotion to the interests of his flock, — if we had not the 
testimony of conteniiwraries who were eye witnesses and heart wit- 
nesses of llie effects which his preaching produced. When we 
■re told that he always finished his preparation for the pulpit by 
two o'clock on Saturday afternoon, believing "that God wonld 
curse that man's labors who goes lumbering up and down in the 
world all the week, and then upon Saturday atiemoon goes to bis 
study, whenas God knows lltat time were little enough to pray in, 
Mud weep in, snd get bis heart into a frame Bt for the approach- 
ing Sabbath," — when we know that he wept in the composition 
of his sermons, — that he went into the pulpit as if he expected'^' 
there (o give up his account of his stewardship, — that lie al- 
ways derived Eome spiritual benefit from liis discourses before he V 
delivered them lo his people, — and that the conversion of hi* 



hearers was the great end of bia preaching, — we are sure that 
hih eermons must have been effective, and, like the word of Go^ , 
of which ihej were but the eclio, quick and powerful, sharpei 
than any two-edged sword, piercing even lo (he dividing asunder 
of the joiota and marrow, and laying hare the thoughts and 
inlenU of the heart. That intense zeal in the service of God, — 
that unreserved self-consecration to the work of turning man 
from darkness to light, — that holy patience in tribulation, — 
that baptism of sermons in tears, — those " heavenly prayerg," — 
oould not but render him 

" A aon oftbnndcr and asbower of rain." 

And this inference is justified and conlirmed by those who saw 
and felt the power of his preaching, " This year," 1649, says 
Morton, " that faithful and eminent servant of Christ, Mr. 
Thomas Shepard, died. He was a soul-searching minister of the 
gospel. By his death, not only the church and people of Cam> 
bridge, but also all New England, sustained a very great loss. 
He not only preached the gospel profitably and very successfully, 
but also bath left behind him divers worthy works of special use 
in reference to the clearing up of the stale of the soul to God 
and man ; the Iwnefit whereof those can best experience who 
are most conversant in the improvement of them, and have God's 
blessing on them therein lo their soul's good." • There is a 
tradition, received by Mr. Prince from the old men of his day, 
and by him banded down to us, that he " scarce ever preached a 
sermon but some one or other of his congregation were struck 
with great distress, and cried out in agony, * What shall 1 do to 
be saved ; ' and that tliough his voice was low, yet so searching 
-was his preaching, and so great a power attending, as a hypo* 
crite could not easily bear it, and it seemed almost irresistible." t 
Johnson can not find epilliela enough to espress hia personal 
excellence, nor language to set forth the wonderful effects of 
hia public ministrations: "that gracious, sweet, heave nlv'^nind- 

* MortoQ't New England Menorial, p. 169. 
t PriDCc'* StrmMi*, pnbUthed b; Enkine. p. (•»■ 


to Mr. Shcpard's power 

converted, ^ 


e<1, and soul-mvishiog minister," being the common, and i^paiw- 
«nll/ iaadeiiiiaie terms in which tie speaks of the pastor of Cam- 
bridge; -'in whose soul," eays ihe enthusiastic eulogist, "the 
Lord ?hcd abroad hiR love bo abundantly, that thousands of souls 
liBve cause to bless God for him, even at this very day. who are 
the seal of liis ministry ; and he a man of a thouearxi, endued 
with abundance of true, saving knowledge for himself and others." 
perhaps the most discriminating and competent witness 

the pulpit is Jonathan Mitche), who, . 
inly greatly enlightened, and aided in \ 
Lis inquiries after truth, by his ministry. Mr. Mttchel, aa 
Unthcr telis us, kept a journal of hia inward life, a few extracts 
from which are preserved in the Magnalia. On one occasion he 
made this entr}^ : " I liad hardly any savor on my spirit before 
God ; but a terrible an<l most excellent sermon of Mr. Shepard 
■wakened me. He taught rae that there are some who seem to 
be found and saved by Christ, and yet afterward they perish. 
These remarks terrified me. I begged of G^ that he w«uld 
linvc mercy on me, and accomplisli the whole work of hia grace 
lor me." * On utother occasion he thus writes : " Mr. Shepard 
preached most profitably. That night I was followed with seri- 
ous Ihoughia of my ineipre^ible misery, wherein I go on, from 
Sabbath to Sabbath, without God and without redemption." t 
Hr. Miti-hel succeeded Mr. Sheparil, and hia lirst sermons were 
full of lainonlations over the loss which he and the peo)>Ie had 
•uRered in the extinction of " that light of New England." On 
one occasion, when referring to the few years which he had lived 
luidcr Mr. Shepanl's ministry, he said, " Unless it had been fbar 
jenn living in heaven, I know not bow I could have more cause 
to blcM God with wonder than for those four years." J After 
til, perliaps the general impression which he produced upon tho 
|ieople to whom he preached, the character of the piety which 
grew up under his ministrations, and the spiritual state of the 
church, furnish tlie best proofs of his |>uwer. Mr. Mitchcl was, 

• M«enalia.a iv. pp.iet 

TOL. L p 

t lb. 

t lb. B. ii 


at first, very reluctant, even ivben urged by Mr, Sliepard upon 
his death bed, lo occupy the pulpit of his illuEtrious teacher ; i 
the only con side rat ion wbich finally induced bim lo accept the 
pastoral charge of that congregation was, as he himself declared, 
" that tbey wore a gracious, savory-spiriled people, principled 
by Mr. Shepard, liking a bumbling, mourning, heart-breaking 
minislTy and spirit ; living in religion, praying men and women." 
A preacber vho could make such a man oa Mitcbel feel that he 
was living for four yeai's ui heaven, and leave such an impression 

Iopon a whole people, must have been, to use the language of ihe 
venerable Iligginson, a " Chrysoalom in the pulpit," and a 

' " Timothy in his family," and in the church. 

^ Aa a writer, Mr. Shepard deservedly holds a high rank among 
the most able divines which Puritanism — fruitful in great men 
— has ever produced. His works are controversial, doctrinal, 
and practical. He was " an Augustine in disputation," as well 
as a Cbrysostom in the pulpit ; and, like a scribe well instructed, 
he produced several works wbich are of permanent value for 
doctrine and instruction in righteousness. His " Thebeh Sab- 

1BATICJ!," or " Doctrine of the Sabbath," is a masterly discussion 
of the morality, the change, the bf.ginning, and the iimcHJication 
of the Sabbath. It is the subsUince of several -aermons upon the 
fourth commandment, and was thrown into the s eholasUc form of 
theses, or short propositions, at the earnest request, and for ibe 
particular use, of th e students in the colle ge. Afterward, at the 
desire of all the elders in New England, the work was somewhat 
enlatgedjtuid pu blished in i ts presentformin 1C4 3. It is now 
very rare, not more than two or three copies being known to be 
extant With respect to the precise time at which the Christian 
Sabbath begins, he differed slightly from some of ihe^tddcriM and 
Mr, Allen, together with several others, wrote friendly argu- 
mentative letters to him upon that point; \^aL the tjueslion 
seems to be of too little interest or importance to call for any 
remark in this place. Of the " Answer to Ball" we liavo 
already spoken. The Preface lo that book contains an admira- 
ble exposition of the grounds uimii which our fathers proceeded 
in ibeir great enterprise in New England, and if republbhed by 


iisi'lf, Ai it was a •^I'ciil maay years ago, would be an invaluable 
tract for the limeii. 

AlK>Nt lliree monlhe before his death, he wrote a letter to a 
friend upon ttie subject of infant baptism, iu wkich he felt A 
deep interest. It was published in I QRS, at tho cameat rcr|uest 
of many who had heard of its effect upon the |ierson to whom it 
wasaddreased, under the title of "TnE CncRCH MEUBEHsmp or 
Children, and their Kight to Baptism, according to that holy 
and everlasting covenant of God cstublifihed between liimsulf and 
the faithful, and their seed n(\er lliem, in their generations." 
Of all the works upon infant baplism — and they are many — 
which have been written in New England, this letter of Shep- 
ard'g mny l>e regarded as one of the most able and satisfactory. 

Mr. Shepard's ciylc is often rugged, but full of passages of (/ 
eweet and quiet beauty, which makes the reader think of pure 
w«ter gushing from some craggy rock, or of flowers Epringing up 
on the side of a rough pathway. lie utters great thoughts with- 
out any apparent preparation on effort, as if they were ever 
present and most fiimiliar to his mind, and amidst his most ele- 
vated or abstruse reasoning, continually surjirisea and deliglita 
the reader with ultcraneea which seem to come from the heart 
of a little child. In his polemica there is no bittertiess. He~ 
never takes an unfair advantage of an opjionent, nor uses abu- 
nve language in the place of argument. He is always serious,' 
candid, frank, and charitable. He held and taught the distin- 
guishing doctrines of grace, which Calvin before him had dis- 
cussed ! but he never presents them as dry dogmas, nor uses any 
language respecting them which is calculated to wound, unnc- j. 
ecBsarily, a serious mind, tie always appears lovely in the most' ^ 
terrible pa&^ages ; and m.ikcs one feel (he influence of his gently 
spirit, while he sends the truth with overwhelming [wwcr to the 
lie was a Puritan and a Congregationalist ; but in 
■tuning and defending his position against those whuSe words 
drawn swords," his spirit is always unruflled, and his 
icea, though uttered with earnestness, convey no 
into tlte wound which they produce. 

There is a class of persons, who, while they do tua^to 


■ justice to Mr. Shepnrd's talents, lenming, anil piely, yet 

■ coni[>lain much of what ihcy term llie severe, legal, discour- 
I aging aspect of some of his practical tentingM — pnrticularly 
' Ibose in whii'h be cxiiibita tbe ronditions of salralioo, and 

endeavors to lead a einner to Christ. The remarks of n 
recent English autlior upon this alleged characteristic of 
Shepard's works exhibit nil Ihe (Ejections that have ever been 
mode ngainst them. "The TreBtiaes of S. and D. Rogers, Th. 
Hooker, and the New England Sbepanl," says he, " enn not be 
read without grave exceptions. For in these valuable writers, 

— and others might be named, — amidst much that is supcrex- 
cellent, tliere are statements as to the constitaiion of a Chrieiian 
which look austere; which, by checking the freeness of salration, 
become, though contrary to intention, stumbling blocks, and the 
occasion of mental trouble. Instead of at once directing sinners, 
as the apostles did, to the finished atonement, — lo the propitia- 
tory work of Christ, — of urging them to take God al his word, 

— to receire Ihe testimony giv<:n of his Son, and so to possess 
joy and peace in believing, these good men seem to have licen 
infected with the ancient errors, which confined evangelical teach* 
ing to the initiated. They evidently thought a routine of tedious 

\f preparation needful before coming lo the Saviour. QuulilicationSr 

therefore, unknown to the word of God, were prescribed, and 

rules laid down, which not merely concealed great and precious 

x^roraiscB, but savored of a legal spirit, and kejit out of view that 

deal)) unto the law which is ihe life of evangelical obedience." " 

In this general charge of austere and legal teaching, which, as 

this writer says, obscures the prtwnjses and gvnee of the gospel, 

we do not distinctly perceive the points wherein Mr. Sliepjird ii 

\ supposed lo be erroneous. But in Giles FIrmin's " Ucal Chris- 

> tian," a book which was written expressly for the purpose of 

correcting the errors of the "Sincere Convert," — one of Mr. 

Shep&rd's nmst practical works, — the dangerous doctrines a 

1 set forth, and controverted at length. In this book Mr. Shepard 

m) teaches tiial the preparatory work which every sinnar must e 

• Letttr* on Ihc Parilans, by J. B, Willinms, p. 170. 


before he can receive the grace of God id Christ, in- 
dudes eoHvidfon "f^n, compunction, aud htin nlxalion ; that the ^ 
ainner must be wilisfioil with the will of Giod, though his bi: 
should be unsuwt'ssl'ul ; thatllie soiil must Be bo huinWeS as 
be willing tliarClinsl slioulJdispusG of ii acconling to his pTea 
are ; that the sinner mu^t seek the glory of God's grace above 
bia own aalralion ; and that in tliis work of conviction, com- 
punction, and humiliation, we must be so thoroughly divested of 
■11 »eU*-ccnfidence and disposiiion to dictate to God, tliat he shall 
appear supremely excellent, though we may never partake of 
his love. 

Firmin thouglit that a person under tuch a preparatory work 
was as good a Christian as he could be if he were actually united 
to Christ. In a letter (o Mr. Sheptird, he expressed bis surprise 
at the doctrine ibat an ael of grace or of obedience should b« 
required of a person under a preparalorg work, than which, be 
eonueived, none gretitcr could be performed by a real Christian ; 
ftnd be declared that he knew no act of self-denial in the gospel 
like lliie quiet submission to the justice and sovereignty of Grod, 
irreapective of any assurance of pardon and acceptance; and 
Ihis, loo, under the preparalory work of humiliation I 

This doctrine, Mr. Firmin thought, must be a great stumbling 
block in llie way of sinners, and occasion great perplexity in all 
readers who believed it to be true. And be seems to have 
Inown one serious person, besides himself, who was much trou- 
Idei^ by this "constitution of a ChrisUan." "Preaching once 
Abroad," he says, "I closed up l)ic point in band, by applying it 
to wbu Mr. Shepard bad delivered, to see how these doctrines 
■greed. A gentleman and a scholar, meeting me some time after, 
g»vc me thanks for the close of my sermon. I asked him why. 
He lold me that he had a m:ud servant who was very godly, 
And reading of ibat particular in Sir. Shepard's book which I 
apposed, she was so cast down, and fell into such trouble, 
that all the Christians who came to her could not qniet her 
■pLrik" ■ That is, this poor, godly servant moid could not be 

* Bod Chmtino, PreTftM, pp. 4, S. 


freed from trouble of mind, oci-asioned bj tlie doclriae that she 
rauat be truly couviaced of sin, be deeply humbled, and submit 
impliciily to tlie will of God, uniil she wa3 convinced, by Mr, 
Firmin, that Sliepard, though an emioeDtly learned and holy 
nan, was mistaken tn reluliou to that matter ! 

Before attempting lo suggest on answer to these objections, it 

may be well to reraark ihat the book called the " Sincere Cou- 

■ Tert " was, perhaps, of all Mr. Shepard's works, the least salisfac- 

1'^ lory to himself; not because its fundamental doctrines Wei's 
doubtful to his own mind, but because it had not received that 
revision from his own hand whicli every work requires, and waa, 
moreover, barbarously printed. " It waa," says Mr. Shepard, 
in B lett«r lo Mr. Firmin, " a collection of notes in a dark town 
^ in England, which one procuring of me, published without my 
/ will or privity. I scarce know what it contains ; nor do I like 
to see it, consideriug the many tyiHtgrapbicol errors, most absurd, 
■ and the confession of him that published it, that it comes out 
mutilated and altered from what waa first written." • And 
—^ this was sajd in October. 1647, a year nf\er the English pub- 
X Usher, in hie fourth editiou, declared that the book had been 
" corrected and mnch amended by the author " I 

Mr. Shepard, however, whilij he thus almost disowned tlie 
" Sincere Convert," did not disavow, but vindicated the doctrine 
)i^ here called in question, Though it was a "ragged child," at 
sometimes called it, it spoke ujtoa this point, at least, the se 
menis of its author. In a teller to ilr. FirniJn, he says, " I do 
not think this (that is, unconditional submission lo the will of 
God) is the highest measure of grace, as you hint, any further 
than as any peculiar work of the Spirit is high ; for upon a nar- 
row inquiry, it is far different from llmt readiness of Paul and 
Moses, out of a principle of love to Christ, to wish themselves 
I anathematized for Israel's sake ; wlucL is a Ligli pitch indeed." 
I And he closes bis letter thus ; " Let my love end in breathing 
^out this desire : Preach humiliation. Labor lo possess men with 
^ sense of wrath to come, and misery- The gospel consolations 

■ Beat (^hriiluia. P' >I5. 


and grace, which some would hare dished out as the dainties of 
the times, and set upon the ministry's <alilc, miiy poiisibly tickle 
and ravish some, and do aoiue good to ihem that arc humbled 
and converted already. But il' ases and wedges, wiihul, be not 
Hied lo hew and break this rough, uneven, bold, jet professing 
age, I am confident the work and fruit of those men's minis- 
try will be at best mere hypocrisy ; and they shall find it, aod 
•ec it, if iliey live to Bee a few years more." " 

Mr. Shepard here touches the root of the matter. A minis- 
try, lo be iruly fruitful, mu)it show to ibe people tbeir transgrea-t ' 
Biens ; and that doctrine that does pot bumble the sinner and re- v 
quire anconditional submission, while it offers redeeming grace, 
though it were preached by an angel from heaven, is anathema- 
tiEPd by the gospel. " Some souls can relish none but mealy- 
' mouthed preachers, who come with soft, and einoo'th, and looih- 
lesa words, (byssina verba, byssiiiis viris.) But these times need / 
humbling mmislries ; and blessed be God lliat there are any/ 
For where there are no law sermons, there will be few gospel liiea ;t^ 
and were there more law preaching by the men of gifts, there 
'Would be more gospel walking both by themselves and the people. 
To preach the law, not in a forced, otfected manner, but wisely 
and powerfully, together with the gospel, as Christ himself was 
wont to do, is the way to carry on all three together, vie., tetis« of 
iwijwry, — the apjittcalion of the remedy, — and the returru of 
thaitifulneti and duty. Nor is any doctrine more comforting 
than this humbling way of God, if rightly mBnagcd." f 

Mr. Shepard hod an able defender of his doctrines, as well 
as a worthy snt.'cessor to liis ministry, in Jonathan Mitt'hcl, who ^ 
drank into lUe spirit of that theology which exalts God while it 
abases man. and carried out in his preaching the views of his 
master. " I have," he says, " no greater request for myself and 
for you, than that God would make us see things as they really 
are, and pound our hearts all to pieces, and make-sin most bitter, 
and Christ most sweet, that we might be both humbled and com- 

• Bcal Chriiliin, pp. 19, AG. 

t FicfacB lu ShFpard'i Scmotis on IncffcclaiJ Bearing of the Word, by 
G. GrMtihill uiil S. Mather. 


foried lo ]]ui'piise. An imperfect work of die law, and iheO'* 
aa iinpert'eul work of the gospel, is (he bane and ruin 
these days, Some Aiara and olfections, ami llien some hopes of 
mercy, wiLliout finding full rest oitd satisfaclion in Christ alone, 
men rest in, and perish," " 

Whatever may be said of the le gal long of Mr. Shepard's 
^ writitigs, by those who think that " llie Gud of terror, the Thun- 
/\ derer from .Sinai, must fold up his lightnings' prettily , and muffle 
his thunder in an easily-flowing, poetical measure," they doubt- 
less exhibit in a masterly manner those distiuguiahing doctrines 
of grace which have ever been, as tticy will ever he, the true and 
only foundation of the sinner'^ peace. 

It may be interesting to the reader to learn in what light these 
writings were regarded when they were more known than they 
are now, by men most competent, by profound ac(]uaintimce with 
the Scripiures, to judge correctly of their merits. And first, 
hear how Williimi Greenhill speaks of lliut " ragged child," in 
the edition of 1632. "The autlior is one of singular piety, in- 
ward acipiainiance with God, skilled in tlie deceits of men's 
hearts, able to enlighten the dark corners of the little world, and 
to give satisfaction to staggering spirits. The work is weighty, 
quick, and spiritual ; and if thine eye be single in perusing it, 
thou shalt find many precious, soul-sea rehing, soul-quickening, 
soul-enriching truths in it ; yen, and be so warned and awakened, 
us that thou canst not but bless God for the man and the matter, 
unless thou be possessed with a dumb devil." t While, in his 
"Power of Godhness," mentions, among the best means and 
helps for acquiring a holy character, together with other books, 
Shepard's " Sincere Convert," and " Sound Believer." Steele, 
in his " Husbandman's Calling," advises the Christian farmer to 
purchase some choice books, and read them well, and recom- 
mends Shepard's " Sound Believer," us one of ])eculiar value. | 
Hugh Peters exhorts his daughter lo read, among other books 
mentioned in his letter, Shepard's " Sincere Convert," for the 

- • Letter lo an Anxiouj Itniairer, 1649. 
1 FrafncB to Sincere Convert, p, 9. 
t Lcttcn on the I'uritiina, tiv J. J). Williams. ^ 



purpose of having bcr " undersliuiding enlightened with the 
want of Clirist and his worth." • Bev. James Frazier, of Scot- 
land, in 1738, thui Hpeaks of ghepard'a writings: >'Tlie Lord 
haih blessed ibe reading of procLii^l wriliDgs to me, and thereby 
faj heart balb been put into frame, and mueh strength and light 
goiieo i Bucb as Isaac Ambrose, Goodwin, Mr. Gray, and very 
much by Rutherford's, above olliars ; but mosL of alt, by Mr. 
TlKimas Shepard, of New England, his worka. He hath, by 
Lord, been made the ' Interpreter, one of a tboueionil ; ' 
■o thai, under CbrUl, I have been obliged to bis writings as /■ 
much, and more, than to any man's whatever, for Awakening, ' 
Mrcngtiiening, and enlightening my soul. The Lord made him a 
well of water to me in all my wilderness straits." t Our own 
Iwardd, a roan whose religious experience was as genuine and 
M deep as ibat of any divine whom New England or ihc world has 
produced, was more indebted to Sbepard's Sermons on the Par- y 
■fale of the Ten Virgins, in the preparation of bis " Treatise '^ 
ing iho Iteligious Affections," than to any otlier human ' 
production whatever, as is shown by the fnct that out of one 
bnndred and ihirt3'-two quotations from all authors, upward of 
feventy-five are from Mr. Sbepard. To finbh this catalogue of 
who have home testimony to the truth and power of 
Mr. Sbepard's practical writings, we repeat what old Mr. Ward, 
of Ipswich, once said to Giles Firmin, his son-in-law, respecting 

the prominent characteristics of his preaching and writ- /' 
fag. " When Sir. Shepnnl comes to deal with hypocrites, heH 
eats so des|teniti'ly, that men know not bow to bear him ; be 
makes ihem all afraid tliat they are all hypocrites. But when 
bo comes to dtMil with a lender, bumble soul, he gives comfort 
(ly, that we are afraid lu tuke It." And Mr, Firmin bimself 
I book which he so severely reviews is, for the ino«t 
solid, quick, and searching, cutting very shari>Iy," 
■0 means a book for " an uusound heart to delight in." } 
Of the character of Mr. Sliepard's personal religion, aller 

• BanbDry'&Mcmoriali, 111.573. 

t Prcfkcc to Sokcl Cm, etc bj T. Frince, ITTl. 

I Retl CnirlaiUn.paia. 


wbiit lias been said in the foregoing account of bis life, it is un- 
necessary to apeak al length. The beat moral portrait of liim 
that we have is drawn, iinci>n?eiously, by liimself in his diary, lo 
which more than one reference has been made. It is a journal, 
aa David Brainerd justly remorkB, in which true religion is de- 
lineated in a very exact and beautiful mnnner ; and in reading 
this expression of his most sceret feelings, — never, certainly, 
designed lo be made public, — we may see what he regarded as 
the religion of a minister of Christ, tho state he endeavored to 
attain, nnd ihe diflieulties he encountered in his way to heaven. 
The humiliation, the submission to the will of God, the deep 
sense of unworthincss, the desire to advance Ihe glory of God 
X above all selliBh considerations, which he preaches to others 
in his works, he here shows that he himself experienced. The 
joys which from time lo time sprang up in his soul, in view of 
redeeming mercy, were evidently not the sell-crealed comforla 
of a deceived heart that had never been truly broken for sin, but 
the peace of God which cunie to fill a heart purified as a temple 
for the Most High. It is a journal which every minister might 
study with profit ; and any one who should find hie mind respond- 
ing to these profound utterances of a heavenly mind, might, with- 
out rauchdangerof disappointment, hope to be made an instrument 
of promoting the glory of God in the conversion of sinners. 

Upon the whole, when we consider the rich Chrblian expe- 
rience which llr. Shepard attained ; the sacrifices which l^e 
cheerfully made for the sake of Christ and the gospel ; the great 
amount of ministerial and other labor which he .performed, with 
feeble health and manifold hinderances j the .attainments which 
be made in sanctity, and the knowledge of divine things ; ilie 
able theological works he produced ; and th@ influence, lelt even 
now, which he exerted in building up the churches of New Eng- 
land, — and all this ere he had passed the meridian of life, — we 
must regard him as one of the brightest ornaments of the church) 
and hold hia memory in profound and grateful remembrance. 



(irgond >nd kind he ihc Juil itoudnnl n-cmod ; 

Dear [a the best, mid tij Ihs wor^t eslcoincit. 

llu wil, bii judgiDVBI, Icarning^. cqu^ ruC) 

Divlnclj hnmble, jct ditinely wise ; 

He triamphed o'er our souls, Bud, al his will, 

Bid ihis louched paseioD riae, and that b« siill-, 

lleieoai'd our sodU, and made them sour aborD, 

Winded with divine dcsinu aod Ramcs of bciiveni/ love." 

Tilt f'jiluiting 11 n very brlff account ojWr. S/iejiariTs Fumilif 
Vid Writings : — 

Mr. Shi-pard left tliree sons: — 

Thomas, bom April o, 1635, at London ; gradualcd nl Iliir- 
Tard College, IGoS; ordaiiiol pastor of the church in Charltu- 
toini, April 13, 1650 ; died of smull-pox, December 22, Hi77, 

Samvel, bom at Cumbridge, October 18, Itiil ; graduitlcd at 
BnrTurd College, 1658; ordained orer the ctiurdi at Rowley, 
M its third piMtor, 1G65 ; died April 7, 16G8, in the tiventy- 

L-cnlh jear of his age. ^ u\^ l4 SaHf V*|((j[ 9 ^ tCt e^H- 

JeRF.MlAll, horn August II, 1G48; grudunti>d at Harvard 
College, 1669; ordwined nt Lynn, October 6, I67D; died June 2, 
1720, aged 7% aAcr a ministry of foHy-one yeiirs. 

Mr. Shopard's third wife, Margaret Itumilcl, after his dentb, 
marmd Jonntlina Mitcbel, his successor in the church of Cain- 
■ LriJj^.. 

Anntt, the daughter of Thomn<i Shcpnrd of Charteslown, iras 
mnrrieil, in IS82, to Daniel (Jiiincy. They had one son, named 
Juhn Quincy, burn July 21, 16811. Elizabeth, the daughter of 
John Quincy, mnrrivd Williara Smith, lite minister of Weymouth. 
Abif^I, the daughter of Williuia Smith, married John Adnnia, 
•flm^Mrd president of ihe XJuited Slal(-«, and was the mother 

ktX John Quincy Adainsi. who was thus a descendant, in the ^ixih 
lenoniion, from Tliomas Shcpard of Cambridge." 

* Chronicles of Matuuhuiclts, p. 9M, note. 

Of Bir. SlicparJ's books, ihe children of his mind, ihe foUow- 
ing ia believed to be a lolerablj correct list, with the dates, so 
far OS known, of iLeir respective editions: — 

1. Sermons on Ttin: Para.sle or the Ten Vibgiks. FoUo, 
London, 1605. 

2. Answer to Ball. Quarto, London, 1648. 

3. Theses Sabbatic-e. Quarlo, London, 1649. 

4. Sincere Convert. London. Several editions, — the 
last, London, 1G02. 

5. Sound BELievEit. 

6. Church Membership of Children. Cambridge, 1GG3, 

7. New England's Lamentation for Old England's Errors. 
Loudon, 1645. 

8. Clear Sunshine of the Gospel breaking upon the 
Indians. London, 1648. 

9. Select Cases Resolved. London and Edinburgb, 1648. 

10. The Liturgical Considerator, in reply to Dr. Gauden. 
' London, 1661. 

11. Caution AGAINST Spiritual Dkunkennebb i Sermon. 

12. Subjection to Christ in all his Ordinances, etc; 
tbe best way to preserve liberty. 

13. Inekfectual Hearing op the Word. 

14. SiNoiNG OF Psalms a Gospel Ordinance, 1647. 

15. Meditations and Spiritual Experiences. A Diary 
from Novetnber, 1640, to December, 1641. 

16. First Principles op the Oracles of God. London 
and F.dinburgh. 1648. 

17. The Saint's Jkwel. 16mo., London, 1692. 

The Bible used by Mr. She]Mird is in the popsession of ihe 
R«v. William Jenks, D. D. Ii has ibe HebfL-w of the Old Tes- 
tament, without points, and the Greek of the New. It cxhibiis 
marks of use. On the title page, at the bollom, after the name 
of a previous possessor, is Sbepard's narne, an autograph, thus : 
Thomas Shepard. ir ifiioi! Fufli. Immauucl. For this account 
of Sbepard's Bible I am indebted to the kindness of Rev. Dr. 


















*' fltreii ii the fate, and nanow h the way, which leadeth auto lifi ; 
and ftw then be that And it.*^ Matt, ril 14. 







^^^* TO ^^^^H 

In these evQ and perilous times, God hath not left lu wilhont i 
some choice mercies. Our sins abound, and his merciea BUper- 
abound. The Lord might justly have spolien those words of 
death against us which of old he did against llie Jews — I have 
taken away my peace from this people, loving kindness and 
mercies ; which had he pulled from us, we hod cause enough to 

lies wrapped upiu peace, loving kindness, and mercy. But God is 

for Jacob, (Pa. iliv. 4;) he overrules all the powers of darknes-i, 
(P«. Ixxri. 10,) and tells the sons of Belial (men of corrupt 
minds and cursed practice) that they shall proceed no furiher, 
but that their folly shaU be manifest unto all. (2 Tim. iii. 8, 9.) 
He makes all enemies, all devils, all oreaiures lo further hia own il 
glory, and the good of his peculiar people. ^\'hen times are || 

Ihy chambers, and shut thy doors about thee ; hide thyself, as it 
vcrv, for a little moment, (ill the indignation be overpast. (Isa. 
xxTi. 10.) If troubles threaten life, he sailh, •' When thou passest 
through the waters, I will be with thee, and through the rivers, 
Ihey shall not overflow thee ; when thou walkest through ihe 
Bre, ibou shalt not be burnt, neilher *hall the Ba:nes kindle 
upon thee; for I am the Lord thy God." (Isa. xliii. 3.) When M 

• Fear thou not, for I am with Iheo; be not dismayed, for I am | 


tliy GucI ; I will atrengtLen thee, I will help Hiov -. yva, I will up- 
hold thee with llie rigiil liaud of my riglileousne^^. Behold, all 
they that were incensed against lliee shall be ashamed nnd con- 
founded, they shall be as nothing; and they that strive with ihee 
yshall perish." (Isa. xl. 10, 11.) Such words of comfort and life 
doth God speak unto hid. And among other mercies, he stirs 
up the spirits of his servants to write many precious truths and 
tracts, to further the everlasting good of his beloved ones. If 
the bottomless pit be open, and smoke rise thcnec, to darken the 
lur and obscure the way of the saints, (Rev. v. 2,) heaven also is 
opened, (Itev. xi. 19,) and there are lightnings and voices, to en- 
lighten their spirits and direct their paths. Had ever any age 
such lightnings as we lukve ? Did ever any speak, since Christ 
tmd his apostles, as men now speak ? We may truly and safely 
say of our divines and writers. The voice of God, and not of 
nuto : such abundance of the Spirit bath God poured into some 
men, that it is not they, but the Spirit of the Father that speaks 

What infinite catise hath this age to acknowledge the unspeak- 
able mercy of God in affording us such plenty of spiritual trac- 
tates, full of divine, necessary, and conscience -search itkg truths, 
yea, precious, soul-comforting, and soul-improving truths ! such 
whereby head, heart, and soul-cheating errors are discovered and 
prevented ; such as soundly ditTercnce true grace from all secm- 
ings and paintings. No time, no nation, exceeds m herein. And 
shall wc, that abound in truths, be penurious in praises ? Con- 
. , aider, reader, whether spiritual truths be not worthy of thy 
choicest praises. Every divine trutli is one of God's eternal 
tlioughls ; it is heaven bom, and bears the ima^ of God. 
Truth is the glory of the sacred Trinity. Hence the Spirit is called 
Truth, (John xvi. 13,) Christ is called Troth, (John xiv. 6,) aud 
God himself is stud to be the God of truth. (Deut xxxii, 4.) It 
is BO delightful to him, that his eyes are always upon the truth. 
(Jer. V. 3.) And when the only-wise God would have men make 
a purchoae, he counsels them to buy the truth. And is it not good 
Is it not a good purchase ? Can you bestow your 


patDii or Iny oui your money belter ? If you be dead in sins and 
trespBSBes. iruth is the seed of a new life, of a hearenly birth. 
(James i. 18^ If you be in any bondage, tnitk can make you 
free. (JoLn viii. 32.) If compassed about wilh enemies, truth 
can Pbield thee. (Ps. xei. 4.) If you be full of filthy thoughts 
and lusts, or any impui'ities, tlie truth can sanctify you. (John 

ivii, IT.) If darkness and faintness possess your soiiU, truth is 
lumm el pabulum aniiiuc — "the light and life of the soul." 

(P*.exis. 105.) 

Let U9, then, advance our thoughts uf truth, and rate it above 
all sublunary ihingit, and buy it, though it cost us all. It is no 
nmony, it is not loo dear ; you i;annut overvalue truth. It is 
r to the peace of God, which passeth all understanding. Sea 
bow God himself estimates his word and truth. (Ps. exxxviii. 2,) 
" Thou hast magni6ed thy word above all thy name." Whatso- 
ever God is known by, b eside hi j. word, is beneath his word. 
Take thu whole creation, whioh is God's name in the grealestv.! 
letters, it is nothing to his word and iruih. Therefore Christ 
' tells the Pharisees, il is easier for heaven and earth lo puss than 
one tittle of the law to fail. If the least Jut or tittle of the law 
be prised by God above all the world, let us take heed of under* 
valuing the great and glorious truths of the gospel, and settle it 

a a law upon our hearts that we can never overprize or yield 
sufficient praise for any truth. Men can praise God for the bless- 
ings of the field, the seas, the worob, and of their shops ; but 
where is the man that praises God for his blessing of blessings 
- — for TacTH — for good books, for heavenly treatises ?f Men / 
seldom purposely lift up iheir hearts luid vui(H.'S lo heaven, to 
praise God for ihe riches of ktiowk-<lge lie:jlowed u{>on them. 
In good bookH you have men's labor and God's truth. The 
tribute of tlianks is due fur both, llial God enables men to so 
it l&bors, and that he conveys such precious treasures through 
earthen veuelj*. Duvid thought it bis duty to praise God for 
truth, (P&. cxxxviii. 2.) and hath lell it on record for our imita- 
tion. He saw such exiwUcncy. and found so much sweet gain in 
Iroth, that be roust break out in praises for iL 


Reader, give ovpr llij old way of sligliling anJ ci'nsuring 
men's tabors. Experience hath long since (old ihee, that no good 
cumes that viay. Now learn to turn Ihy prejudices iulo praises, 
and prove what ivill be the iruit of hotxiring and praisiug God 
/or truths dii<pc-niieil by his faithful servants. Let me tell tbee, 

V this is a chief way to keep truth still among us. If truthit be 
not received with the love of them, and God honored for tbem, 
presently strong delusions come, and truth must suffer or fly. 
God hath mude good that promise in Jeremy. He hath revealed 
liDio us abundance of pence and truth ; and we, through ingrati- 
tude, have forfeited both. Our peace is sliaken ; and who can 
promise himself, with Iluzekiah, There shall be peace and truth 

\J Id my days ? Peaec may fail ihee, but let not truth. Kverj 
good Christian may and should say, with the good king. There 
shall be truth in my days, if not ptaee and truth. I will so far 
honor truth, as to receive tlie love of it. I will hold it fast by faith, 
hold it forth by practice, praise God daily for it, and venture all 
in defence of iL So did the martyrs, whose memory is sweet, 
and whose regard is great. It is belter suffering for truth than 
with truth : yet if truth must siiiTer, or can die, better it is to 
die with truth than outlive it. But that truth may live, and we 
live by truth, let us magnify God much for truth, for his word 
and good books tliat spring thence. Some probably may say, 
It's enough to praise God for his wonl. Other books are not tanti. 
Wilt thou praise God for tlie sea, and be unthankful for the 
rivers and springs ? Wilt thou iih up thy voice for the great 
waters, anil be silent for the silver drops and flowers? If the 
former rain aflect ihee, be not ungrateful for the latter. God 
would have man to value his servants, ajid praise him for their 
labors. But they have errors in ihero. Be it so. Shall we 
refuse to praise God for the llowera and the eoni, because there 
be some weeds in the garden, and thistles in the field ? Prejudice 
not thyself: buy, read, take thy delight. Here is a garden 
I vitbout weeds, a cornfield without cockle or darnel, thorn or 
thistle. Art thou a tinfere convert f Here arc truths suitable, 
solid, and wholesome. Tlmu mayest feed and feast without fear. 

eed and least without tear. ■ 

The aiithoi- is one of singular pieiy, inward iicqimintance w.-,. _ 
God, skilled in tlte deceits of men's hearts, able tu cnlightt^n the ^fl 
dnrk corners of the little world, and to give eaiisfiiution to stag- 
gering spirits. Hii w w k i n,edmiul ihi. [ l uiplu u( iiLLULhm'inu n r 

1 rut l i ' a [ i L fi u g ii tirg t o ' lrm el w l l l lU lI t mw w r a r tr) 1 imj , Ijul'jiuju 

• Aidn to 

f the work id weighty, quick, and spiritual. And if 
Ihioc eye be single in perusing it, thou shall iind mnny precious, 
Roul-Marching, soul-quickening, and Houl-cnriching truths in it ; 
yea, be »o warned and awakened, ai that thou canst not butbleu^ 
God for the man and matter, unless thou be pa'^cssed with a 
dumb devil. 

To conclude: Christian reader, tahe heed of a n t hank fidnesa . ^ 
Spiritual mercies should have the quickest and fullest praises. - 
Such is this work ; thou foresawest it not, thou coutributest 
nothing lo the birth of it- It is preventing mercy. By it, and 
other of the same nature, God hath made knowledge to abound; 
tlie waters of the sanctuary are daily increased, and grown deep, 
Let not the waters of the iwnctaary put out the tire of the sanc- 
tuary. If there be no praise, there is no lire. If ihy head be 
like a winter sun, full of light, and heart like a winter's earth, 
without fruit, fear lest thy light end in utter darkness, and the 
tree of knowledge deprive thee of the tree of life. The Lord 
grant thou mayest iind such benefit by this work b 
k^ttrt may be ravished with truth, and raised to prn 
purpose, and made to pray, I^rd, still Rend forth : 
tmth. tliat lh(-y may lead us. So prays 

Thine in ChrLnt. 

W. GREl£\HtLL. 

9 that thy 
raise God to 
Ihy light and 



'tiK knowlcd;^ of divinity is neressary for all sorte of men — 
both to settle and eslAhlish the good, and to convert and felcb in 
the bnd. God's principles pull down Satan's ftilae principles aet 
up in man's head, loved and believed with men's hearts, and 
defended by iheir tongues. Whilst strongholds remain unshaken, 
the Lord Jesus is kepi off from conquering of the soul. 

Now, spiritual truths arc either surh as tend to enlarge the 
B oderslandin";. or such as may work chiefly upon the affect Ions. 
I pass by (in this knowing age) the first of these, and. being 
among a people whose heuHs are hard enough, I begin with the 
latter sort ; for the understanding, although it may literally, yet 
_^ly. entertains any truth, until the aifections be 
herewith smitten and wrought upon. 

I shall, therefore, here prosecute the unfolding of these divine 
principles: — 

First, that there is one most glorious God, 

Secondly, that tliis God made all mankind at Hrsl in Adam in 
a most glorious entate. 

Thirdly, that all mankind is now fallen from that estate into a 
bottomless gulf of sin and misery. 

Fourthly, that the Lord Jesus Christ is the only means of 
redemption of this estnie. 

Fifthly, that those that arc saved out of this woful estate by 
Christ are very few, and that these few are saved with much 
' difficulty. 

/ Christ i 
" Sixthly, 

id that these few are saved with much 
many die and perish 

hly, that the greatest causi 
ip this estate is from ihemselvee : 
J 1. By reason of their bloody ignomnsf, they ki 

t their 


/2. By reason of their ca rnal BecurJtY , ihey feel not, they gn>an 
not under their sin and mUery. 

3. By reason of their carnal confidence, ihey seek 10 help 
Ihemselvee out of their misery by their own duties, when they 
see or feel it ; or, — 

4. By reason of their false faith, whereby iliej' catch hold 
upon, and trust unto, the merits of Christ too soon, when t^y 
nee and feel they cannot help themselves. . 





Exod. xxiiii. 18, " I beaeech Ihce, ihour ma lb<t glor?-" 

This b the firat divine truth, and there are tiiese two parts 
considerable in it: — 
, 1. That there is a God. 
' 2. Thai this God is most glorious. 

I will bc^R with the first pnri, and prove, omitting manj phil- 
osophical arguments, that there is n God — a true God; for 
erery nation almost in the world, until Christ's coming, had a 
several god. Some worshiped the snn, some the moon, — called 
by Ecekiet the Queen of Ile-aven, which some made cakes unto, 
— some [he whole heavens, some worshiped the fire, some the 
, brute beasts, some Baal, and some Molech. The Romans, sailh 
Varro, had six ihousond gods : who, imprisoning the light of 
nature, were given up to sins against nature, cither lo worship 
idols of man's invention, as the ignorant, or God and angels in 
those idoU, as the learned did. But these urc all false gods. 

I am n yw to prove th at there is one true God, the Being of 
being*, or the Arst being. Although the proving of this point 
ms needless, because every man runs with the cry and failli, 
rrc is a Ood. yet few ihgroughlj believe this poiat- Many 
lef the children otGod. Wlio areTiest aUcloTtnow men's hciirti, 
Ibceause ihey only study tlieir hearts, feel ihix lemptaiion. Is 
there a God? bitterly assaulting them sometimes. The devil 
wBI sometimes uadermine. and «eek to blow up, the strongest 
walls and bulwarks. The tight of nature indeed shows that 


there 19 n GoU ; but lion- man; are Ihere (lint, by TdiiI gini 
ngainsi their conscience, blow out and fxtinn:iii»li nlnio:;! nil Ihe 
' I liph t of nature ! ami bencc, though tbey ilHre not conclude, 
Iieoauae tbey have some light, Chough dim, yet, if ihey saw their 
heart, they nut^lit ecc it !-ccrctly suspect and question whether 
there be a God. But grant that none questions this truth, yet 
we that are builders must not full to a work without our main 
props and pillars. It may appear, tbcrcfore, that there is a 
God from these grounds : — 

First, from the worka of God. fRom. i. 20.) When we see a 
ptatcly house, although we see not the man that built it, although 
also we know not the lime when it was built, yet will ne con- 
clude thus ; Surely some wise ariilicer hath been working'faere. 
Can we, when we behold the stalely theater of heaven and 
earth, conclude other hut that the finger, arms, and wisdom of 
God bath been here, although -we see not him that is invisible, 
and although we know not the time when he began to build ? 
Every creature in heaven and earth ia a loud preacher of this 
truth. Who set those candles, those torches of heaven, on the 
table ? Who hung out those lanterns in heaven to enlighten a 
dark world ? Who can moke the statue of a man, but one 
wiser than the stone out of which it is hewn ? Could any frame 
a man but otie wiser and greater than man ? Wlio taught the 
birds to build iheir nests, and the bees to set up and order iheir 
commonwealth ? Who sends the Bun post from one end of 
heaven to tlie other, carrying so many thousand blessings to so 
many thousands of people and kingdoms ? What power of man 
or angels can make the ienst pile of grass, or put life into the 
least fly, if once dead ? There is, therefore, a power above all 
created i>ower, which is God, 

^^^n'^lyi from ibg woni of Gy l. There is such a majestr 

stirring, and such secrets revealed in the word, that, if men wiU 

not be wilfully blind, they cannot but cry out, "The voice of 

God, and not the voice of man." Hence Calvin undertakes to 

j)rove Ihe Scripture to be the word of God by ren89^,. maingfc 

I all atheists under heaven. Host thou not thought sometimes, at 

I B sermon, the minister liatli spoken to none but thee, and that 

I some or other hath told the minister what thou hast said, what 

, V thou hast done, what ihou hast thought? Now, that word which 

' tells thee the thoughts of thy heart can be nothing else but the 

word of an all'Sceing God, lliat ftearcheth the heart. 

Again t that word which quickeneth Ihe dead is certainlj', 
Qod's woni ; but the word of God ordinarily prenclted quicken* 
eth the dead ; it raakelh the blind lo see, the dumb to Fipenk, tho 


Tllk HlNCERi: CUNVeitT. U 

deaf lo hear, llie lume to wulk, llioac ihnL nuver fell iheir siii» to 
[ load iliciu to mourn, those that never could pi'uy to brt»th« out 
uuuttentble groans and sighs for ilieir sins. 

Thirdly, froru the children begolleii of Goil ; for we may 
read in tnen'tt foreheads, as aoon as ever Ihcy are bora, the sen- ' 
tence of death ; and W Q_mav see by men'a IJTea wha t hi!llis |^ 
hofia lliey have. Now, there is a lime that soirifl Of Itrls oiop- 
Btroua Drood ol' men are quite changed, and made all new ; they 
nave new minds, new opinions, new desires, new joys, new sor- 
rows, new speeches, new prayers, new lives, and sucb a diBer- 
ence there is betwixt these and others, that they are baled by 
Mher^ who lored them well while ibey loved their sins. And 
whence came thb strange cbntige ? Is it from themselves ?__ 
No ; for tbey hated this new life and these new men once them- 
•elves. Is it because they would be credited thereby ? No ; it 
is to be haled of father, mother, friends, and maligned ■very 
vherc. Is it out of simplicity, or arc their bnuns grown crazy ? 
They were indeed once tools, and I can prove them all to be 
Solomon's fools ; but even simple men have been known to be 
more wise for the world, after they have been made new. But, 
lastly, is it now from a slavish lear of hell, which works ihis^ 
aJieralion? Nothing lesa" Ib^^'Ibhor K5 Uve like slaves in_J 
Bridewell, to do all for feur of the whip. 

Fourthly, from G9d's repia^cr. or n omrv, which is in everyA 
man ; I mean, the conscience o f man, which telleth them there I * 
fa a God; and all hough they silence it sometimes, .yet in time ofj 
thunder, or some great plague, as Pharaoh, or at the day of death, 
then tbey are near God's tribunal, when they acknowledge him 
dearly. The fearful terrors of conscience prove this, which, like 
R bailifT, arrests men for their debts ; ergo, there is some creditor 
lo set it on : sometimes, like a hangman, it torments men ; ergo, 
there is some strange judge that gave it that command. Whence 
•rise ihote dreadful terrors in men ? Uf thera^lves ? No, surely ; 
all desire tu be in peace, and so to live and sleep in a whole skin. 
Cornea it from melancholy? No ; fur melancholy comes on by 
degrees ; these terrors of conscience surprise the soul suddenlyh 
M a sermon, suddenly after tlie cummissioa of some secret foull 
sin. A)^n: melancholy sadness may be cured by physic; butf 
many physicians have given such men over to other physicians. 
Jlelanchuly sadness may be borne, but a wounded spirit who can 
.(ear? Thus you see that there is a God. 

Otff'tettmi. Who ever saw God, thai every one is thus bold lo 
tfSrm that Ihere is a God ? 

Anmetr. Indeed, his face never was seen by moiTal man, but his 


buck pails liiive been seen, are seen, find may be seeu by all ihe - 
world, aa hutb been proved. 

Objtet. All things are brought to pajB hy second i-auses. 

An», 1. Wlint though? Is there no master in the lionse, 
because the serTants do all Ihe work ? Tliis great God maintaioa 
state by doing all the creatures subjection i yet sometimes we 
may cry out in beholding some specialjF'''''' "f hiL^jj^"'^*"*" 

tjon, l lerc is the finger of (JoJ . 

it. What though Uiere be^ioh confusion in the world us that 
shillings stand for pence, and counters stand tor pounds, the best 
men are bought and sold at & low rate, and worst men prized 
and preferred ; yet if we had eyes lo see and conceive, we should 
. see aiiapiioiij: in this diacord of things. Ood is now like a wise 
carpenter, but hewing out his work. There is a lumber and con- 
fusion seemingly among us ; let us stay till the day of judgment, 
and then we shall see infinite wisdom in fitting all tliia for ilia 
own glory, and for the good of his people. 

Object. But if there be a God, why hears he not his people's 
prayers ? Why doth he forgot them when they have most need 
of him? 

I answer. Noah's dove returns not presently with an olive 
branch of peace in his moulh. Prayer sometimes that speeds 
well returns not presently, for want of company enough lo fiitch 
away tliHt abundance of mercy which God halb to give. The 
Lord ever gives them their asking in money or money worth, in 
Ihe same thing or a better. The Lord ever ^vcs his importunate 
beggars their desires, either in pence by little and little, or by 
. pounds ; long he is many times before he gii'es, but payeth them 
w well for their waiting. 

This is a use of reproof to all atheists either in opinion or 

First. In opinion ; such as eltlicr conclude or suspect there 
is no God. O, blasphemous thoughts ! Are there any suck 
men? 3Ien I nny, beasts; nay, devils ; nay, worse than devils, for 
they believe and tremble. Yet the fool hath sud in his liear^ 
, There is no God. (Ps. xiv. 1.) Men that have little heads, liule 
knowledge, without hearts, ai seholurs sometimes of weak brains, 
being guided only by their books, seeing how things come by 
second causes, yet cannot raise Iheir dull thoughts to ihe beholi- 
ing of a first cause. Great politicians arc like children, always 
standirigon Iheir heads, and shaking their heeb against heaven 
these think religion to be but a piece of policy, to keep people ii 
awe : profune persons desiring to go on in sin, without any mb 
orclteck for sin, blow out all ihe light of nature, wishing there 


rilK sl.S'CtllC UUNVtKT. I^ 

Vcre no God to punish, and thererorc willing [o suspect aad 
scruple ihnt not to be which indeed i^. Those also thut hare 
■tuned secretly, though not openly against nature, or the light of 
conscience. Uod smites men for incest, aodomy, felf-poUutioDi V' 
wllb dismal blindness. Those also iha; are notorious worldings, 
that look no higher than their bams, no farther than their shops ; 
Ihe world. u ft pearl io their eye; ihey can not see a God. 

Ijtksdy. I su.4ficct lhosi> men that never found out this thief, 
thia sin, th at was bred and born with ihem, nor saw it In their 
own b carta, but there it lies still in »oiue dark comer of their 
•ouU. to cut their throats — these kind of/men soinelinics suspect 
there is^u God. O, this is a grievous Bin ! for if no God, no 
heaven, no hell, no martyrs, no prophets, no Scriptures. Christ. 
waa then a horrible liar, and an impostor. Other ains wrong and 
grieve God, and wound him, but this sin stabs the very heart of 
God : it strikes nt the life, and is (as much ns lies in sinful man) 
the death of God ; fur it saith. There is no Gnl. 

Secondly. Tliis reproveth atheists in practice, which say 
there is a God, nnd <iuustion it not, but in works they deny b'tn,. 
He that plucks the king from his thronr~»ras vile as he Hint 
•aitli he is no king. These men are almost as bad as aliieists in 
opinion. And of such dust heaps we may find in every comer, 
that in then- practice deny God ; men that set up other gods in 
Gud'g room ; their wealth, their honor, their pleasure, their backs 
and bellies to be their gods ; men that make bold to do that 
■gainst this true God which idolaters dare not do against their 
idol gods; and that is, continually to wrong this Gol ; men tliat 
seek not for all ihey want by prayer, nor return all back again 
to God by praise. 

A socond use is, for exhortation- G, labor to cce and behold 
this God. Is there a Go<l, and wilt tliou not give him a good 
look ? O, pass by all the rivers, till thou come to the »pnng 
head : wiidu through all creatures, until tliou art drowned, plunged 
and swallowed up wiili God. When thou seest the heavens, say. 
Where is iliai great Builder that made this? When thou hearest 
of mutations of kingdoms, say. Where is the Lord of hosts, the 
grvat Captain of these armies? When thou tastest sweetness tn 
the creature, or in God's ordinances, say, Where is sweetness it- 
self, beauty itself? Where is the sea of these drops, the sun of 
these b«aiaa ? O that men saw this God ! it's heaven to behold 
hitni thou art then in a comer of hell, that canst not, dost not 
•eolniii: and yet what is less known tlinn (iod? Melhinks, 
when men hear tliere b a God about lliera, they shuutd lie grovel- ^ 
in{ In the dust, because of his glory. If men did sec hini, they 
VOL. I. i 

would s[.eiik of liini. Wlio sjwaks of God ? Noy, men can not 
speak lo God ; but as beggars have learnt lo ■.-ant, ao many a 
nmo to pray. O, men pee not God in prayer ; llierefore they ciin 
not apeak to God by prayer. Men sin and God frown!:, (wliich 
makes ihe devils lo quake ;) yet men's hearts shake not, because 
they see him not. 

^CTe-37~0,"niiike choice of ihig. God as tliy God. What though 
there be a God ; if it be notlTiyCJod, what art tLou the better ? 
Down with all thy idol gods, and set up this God. If there be 
any creature that ever did thee any good, that God set not a 
work for thy good, love iliat ; think on that aa thy God. If there 
he any thing that can give ihee any succor on thy death bed, 
or when thou art departed from this world, take that lo be thy 
God. Thou mightest have been bom in India, and never have 
heard the true God. but worshiped the devil for thy god. O, 
therefore, make choice of him alone to be thy God ; give away 
thyself wholly and forever to him, and he will give away his 
whole self everlasting unto thee. Seek him weeping, and thou 
■halt find him. Bind tliyself by the strongest oaths and bonds in 
covenant to be his, and he will enter into covenant with thee, and 
so be thine. (Jer. 1. 3, 5.) 

The fourth use b, a use of comfort to them that forsake all for 
this God. Thou hast not lost all for nought, thou hast not cast away 
substance for shadows, but shadows for somewhat. (Prov. viti. IS.) 
When all comfort is gone, there is a God to comfort thee. When 
thou hast no reat here, there is a God lo rest in ; when thou art 
dead, he can quicken Ihee ; when thou art weak, he is strong ; 
and when friends are gone, he will be a sure one to thee. 

Thus much of the first part of this doctrine, or divine truth, 
Hal there ii a God. Now, it followeth to show you that this God 
is a mart ffloriout God, and that in four things he is glorious. 

1. In his essence. 2. In his attribntes. 3. In his persons. 
4. In his works. 

1. He is glorious in his essence. Now, what this gtory is no 
man or angel hath, doth, or ever shall know; their cockle shell 
can never comprehend this sea ; he must have Ihe wisdom of 
God, and so be a God, that eomprehendeth the essence of God ; 
but though it con not be com|irehended what it is, yet it may fw 
apprehended that it is incompreheipsible an d glor ious ; which 
makes his glory to be the moFe aJmired, as we ail in ire the lusler 
of the sun the more in that it is so great we can not behold It. 

2. God is glorious in his attributes, which arc those divina 
perfections whereby he makes himself known unio ua. Whii 
attributes are not qualities in God> butjatures. God's wisdj 



God himseir, and God's poweris God himself, etc Neiiher are i< 
iJhc'T divers ihinga in God, but tliej are divers only in regard of U 

■jderelaading, and in regard of their different efieris on dif- I 

1 objfcU. God piinishiog itie wicked is the jiistic-e of .G od ; \ 
God coiiiposaioniitiug the miserable is the mercy of God. 

Now, tlie attrihuteii nf Go d, omiltiiig curious divisions, are - 
these: — 

lie is a SpirlL o r a spiritual God, (John iv. 34 ;) therefore 
•bhore all worship, and all duties perforined without the influence . 
of ihe Spirit ) as to confess thy sins without shumc or sorrow, 
and to say tlic Lord's prayer without uuders tan ding — to hear 
die word that tbou raayest only know more, and not that thou 
aayest be affected more:— O, ihes* carcasses of holy duties are 
'most odious sacrifices before God. 

2. He is a^living God , whereby be livctb of himself, and gives 

e to all other things.' Away, then, with ihy dead heart to thia 

principle of life to i]uickcn thee, that his almighty power may 

pluck thee out of thy sepulcher, unloose thy gruve clothes, that 

■o ihoa mayest live. 

It. lie is an infinite God, whereby he is without limits of being. 
(2 Chron. vi. if)" Horrible, then, is the least sin that strikes 
■n infinite, great God, and lamentable is the estate of all those 
with whom this God is angry ; thou host infinite goodness to for- 

thee, and infinite power and wrath to set against thee. 

He is an eternal God, without beginning or end of being. 
(Pit. Ixss. 1.) Great, therefore, is the folly of those men iIulI 
irvfer a little short pleasure before this eternal God ; that, like 
Esau, sell away on everlasting inheritance for a little pollage' — 
fbr a base lust and the pleasure of it 

He isan all^suUicienl God. (Gen. xvii. 1.) What lack you, 
therefore ? y^il llia( WOOM rauThave this God, and the love of 
■hut God, but you are loih to take the pains to find him, or to be 
W cost to purchase him nith the loss of all? Here is infinite, 
'Wernal, present sweetness, goodness, grace, glory, and mercy to 
'he found in this God. Why post you from mountain to hill, 
why spend you your money, your thoughts, time, endeavors, on 
things that satisfy not ? H ere i s thjr r^ijig:;£lace. Thy cbthes 
may warm thee, but they "can noi feed thee; thy meat may feed 
thM, but can not heal thee ; thy physic may heal thee, but can 
not maintain thee; thy money may maintain thee, but can not 
oomfort thee when distnesses of consdence and anguish of heart 
come upon thcc. This GikI is joy in sadness, light in darkness, 
life in death, heaven in hell. Here is all thine eye ever saw, 
heart ever desirwl, thy lonfttie ever asked, iliv minil ever 


•■oiii-civul. Ilfre is nil light in lliis son, ttJiU nil i 
i)e«, out of whom, ae out of n crystal fountain, tlioi) shalt drink'. 
(town all the refined Eweetnew; of all creatures in heaven aacl 
enrlh forever and ever. All the world is now setbing and' 
tiring out themselves for rest ; here only it mn be found. 

6. He is ail omnipotent God, wh ereby he ran do whatever he 
Vfill. Yield, tberetoi-e, and stand not out in tlie sinful or subtle 
close maintenance of any one ein against this God so powerful, 
who oan crash thee at his picnsure. 

7. He is an ^ll-seeuig^ God. He knows what possibly can be 
or may be known ; approve thyself, tlierefore, to this God only, in 
nil thy ways. It is no matter wliat men say, censure, or think of 
jhee. It is no matter whnt thy fellow-actors on ibia stage ofjhe 
world imagine. God is (lie great Speclalor ihut be Eglil fl Ihee in' 
every place. God is thy Hpy, and takes complete notice of all 
the actions of thy life ; and they are in print iu heaven, wkicli 
that great Spectator and Judge will open at the great day, and 
read aloud in Ihe ears of all the world. Fear to sin, therefore, in 
secret, unless thou canst tind out some dark hole where the eye 
of God can not discern thee. Mourn for thy secret neglect of 
holy duties; mourn for thy secret hypocrisy, whoredom, profane- 
ness, and, with shame in thy face, come before this God for par- 
don and mercy. Admire and wonder at his patience, that, having 
seen thee, bath not damned thee. 

8. lie is a true God ; whereby he means to do as \\e saith. 
Let every chifd of God, thereforePtnowTo liis comtorl, tliat 
whatever he hath under-A-pcouikc, shall one day be all made 
good i and let all wiilced men know, whatever threatening God 
hath denounced, whatsoever arrows are in ihe bowstring, will one 
day Uy and hit, and strike deep, and the longer the Lord is 
^-drawing, the deeper wound will God's arrow (that in, God' 
threatening} make. 

!). He is a holy Gml. Be not ashamed, therefore, of holi 
which if it'ai<ceiid alwve ihe common strain of honesty, the blintf , 
and mud world accounts it madness. If the righteous (that in, 
' those that be most holy) be scarcely saved, where shall the 
. ungodly and the sinner appear? (1 Pet, iv 18.) Where ? Not 
before saints nor angels, for holiness is their trade ; not before 
the face of ilie man Christ Jesus, for holiness was his twat and 
drink : not before the face of a blessed God, for holiness is his 
nature i not in heaven, for no unclean thing crawls there ; ihey 
shall never aee God, Christ, saints, angels, or heaven, to their 
comfort, that are not holy. Wear, therefore, that na thy crown 
now, which will be Ihv glory in hejiven i and if this be to be vile,, 
**■ mow rile. 

t isT 



10, lie 19 a juit and mei-cifuL (iwl: Ji ist in himseif, and so 
will pun Uh »11 mn ; meri/iful in llm fact: of Chrisl, and so will 
~^ ' ' ' ■ • - - --- --T- for iheiii. 

pori TSB~no sin, bHving already borne our jiunlihi . 

A juTt Utxj against a hard-llearl«<] sinner, a mercifni Gml towarja- 
a humblo sinner. God is not all racivj And no justice, nor nil 
junlice and no mercy. Submit to him, his merry embraceth 
thee. Resist him, his justice pursues thee. When a child of 
God is humbled indeed, commonly he makes God a hnrd-henru^d, 
cru«l God, loth to help ; and aailh, Can such a sinner be par- 
doned? A wicked man, that was nerer humbled, makes God a 
God of lien — one thai (howsoever he spvaks heavy words, yet 
be is ft merciful God and) will not do as he sailh, and he Amis 
difficult work to believe the greatest sin may be pardoned. 
Conceive, therefore, of him as you have beard. *" 

Thirdly. God is plorioua in his peraons , which are three : 
Falher begetting, fejn begotten, and the HoIy"Gho8l. ihe lliiril^ 
person, proceeding. Here the Father is called the Falher of 
g^ry, (Eph. i. :) Christ is called the Lord of glory, ( 1 Cor. ii :) 
and the Spirit is cnlled the .Spirit of glory. (1 Pet. iv.) The 
Father is glorious in his great work ofjleeium; the Son is 
ons m his great work of rg demptis JLi. tl'e tloly Ghost is 
glorious in his work of app licalioit i ifie Father b glorious in 
choosing the house, the aon is* glorious in buying ihe hotiFP, 
Ihe Spirit is glorious in dwelling io the house — that is, the heart 
* « poor, lost sinner. 

4. He is glorious in hia works — in bis works of creiilion. and 
in bU works of providence and government. Wonder, therefore, 
diM be should so vouchsafe to look upon such worms, such dung- 
hilb, such lepers as we are; to provide, protect, to slay bis Son; 
to call, to strive, to wiut, to give away himself and all lluu he is 
worth, unto us. O, feur this God when you come before him. 
People come before God in pmyer as before their fellows, or m 
before nn idol. People tremble not at bis voice in the word. A 
king or monarch will be served in stale ; yet how rudely, how 
slovenly du men go about every holy duty ! ^'Thus much of the 
tfrst principul head, T/iat ihrrt it onf tnott ^lorioat God. Now 
we are to proceed to the second. 


e diown this text, 
,■ which clearly demon- 

/ For tlie npeiiing of whidi r 
"^ (Ecpi. vii. i'-i,) Guii made man righttoat ; 

— >--ThRt God iiiaite all mnnkind nl fir^t in Adnm, in amtHt glo- 

Irious happ^> an*) rijihleoiii) estate. Man, niien he came first out 

^of God's mint, shined niosr glorious. There xf, a marveloua glory 
in ftll creatures, (the servaut^ ajid honseliold stuff of man ;) Ilicre- 
fore there was a greater glory in man liimself, ihe end of them. 
Crpd-eoHatli a^uirliuiuetiJi and gathers a council, when man was 
y to be made : and said, " Come, let us mnke man in our own 
image," as though all the wisdom of the Trinity should be seen 
in the ereution of man. 

Wherein did the glory and blessedness of man appear ? 
*' In the impression of God's irange upon him. (Gen. i. 26.) Can 
there be any greater glory for a Joseph, for a subject, than to be 
lik e his prince ? 

r~" ^Vhat wfla the image of God ? 

' The Klioolmen and fathers have many curious (yet some 

necessary) though difficult questions about ibis. I will omit all 

theirs, and tell you only what is the apostle's judgment, (Col. iiU 

20,) out of which thra^ general description of God's image may 

-i be thus gathered : It is man's perfeciiun of holiness, resembling , 

\God's admirable holiness, wherety only nlATI pleaKGlh God. 
^Tor all other inferior creatures did carry the marks and footstep* 4 
of God's power, wisdom, goodness, whereby all these altributet'l 
were seen. One of the most perfect attributes, his ' " ' ' 

would have men only appear in, and be made manifest by mu 
tiis best inferior creature, as a king's wisdom and bounty appc 
in maunging the aifairs of all his kingdom ; but his royal, princeln 
and most eminent perfections appear in the face and dispositioi 
, of bia .Son, next under him. But more particularly this i 
of (jod appeared in these foui- particulars : — 

1. In. man's understanding . This was like unto God's. Norf, 
God's iinnge liere cUlelly consisted in this particulitr, v" 
Gud saw hiui.selfi'and beheld hid own inAuile, endless glory and 

'excellency, so man was privy to God's excellency, and saw God 
>most gloriously; as Moses, though a sinful man. saw him face 
to face, much more Adam, a perfect man. Gud, loving man, 
could do no less than reveal himself io man- ] 

2. In hU affwliong . The image of Gocl cliioflj appeared in 

btwo things : — 
FiraL A» Gkid. seeing himself, loved hioiM^lf, so Adflin, seeing 
God. lored ibig God m ore than ihe world, more than himself. 
As iron put into the lire seems to be nolhiiig but fire, so Adani^ 
being belored of God, wus turned into a lump of love, to love 
God again. 

Secondly. As God delighted in himself, so did Adam dejiglit 
in Gud, look sweet re|K»e in the bosom of God. Methinks 1 
ne Adam rapl np in conlinuitl ers-lasios in having (liis God. 

3. In hia will. The image of God chiefly appeared in two 
tilings: — 

First As Gi>cl only willed himself as his last end, so did Adam 
will God as hi« liut end, not ad ninn doth now. 

Secondly. As God willed nothing but goo^l, so did Adam will 
nothing, though not iramulsbly, but good ; lor R oirii will wm li in. ' 

4. La his life, God's image did appear tHus : that, even as 
God, if he had assumed man's nature, would have lited out- 
wardly, so did Adam; for. God w-ould hacc lived acconling In 
his own will, law, and rule : so did Adam. Adam's body wn^ 
the lantern througli which holiness, like a lamp burning in his 
heart, shined. This wasjiad's iuiagei by^mejuis _of_which, as it 
ia said in the description, he pleased G od, aj^nilitudn Iming tU f^v 
jTound of love ; a nd hence Hod did most dearly love him. and 
•ighijr bonor hitn to be Lord over all creatures. No evil (con- 
tinuing in that estate) could hurt him ; here was no sorrow, no , 
■ickiicjd, no tears, no fears, no death, no hell, nor ever should 
hare been if there he had stood. 

OhftcSon. How was this estate ours ? 

AnitBvr. As Christ's righteousness is a believer's by imputation, 
though he never performed il himself, so Adam's righleousuess 
.ttd image were i mputed _ te-ii3, and accounted oursj for Adaiit 
IWccivod our sioek or patrimony to keep it for us, and to convey 
it to us. Hence, he proving bankrupt, we lost it. But we had it j 
in his kaiids, m an orphan may have a great estate left him, though 
be uover receive one penny of it from him tli'at was his guardian, 
that should have kept it for him, nnd conveyed it to him. 

Here sec the horrible nature of sin, that plucks man down by 
the cars from his throne, from his perfection, (hough never so 
'^rciU- Adam might have pleaded for himself, and have siud, 
Although I have siimed, yet it is but one and the first fault. 
Xord, behold, I am thy Brat bom. 0, pity my poor posterity, 
who are forever undone if thou fbrgivest not. Yet 8i:e, on« 
-tin weighs liim down and all hia posterity, as we shall hear, into 


Hence learn Low Jusilv God may require perfect obediem 
to all the law of every man, and ciirse liim if he can not perfor 
it, becnuse mnii vaa at first made in sueli a glorious eslale, 
trherein he had power given faim lu please God iierteclly. GoA 
may, therefore, i-equtre this debt of perfect obedience. Now ■ 

(man ia broke, and in priHon ; in beH be must lie forever, if he 
can not pay justiee every farthing, becnu^ God (rusted him with ^ 
a Block whieh if be had well improved, be might have paid alL 
Bee what cause every man bath lo lament hi« miserable estate 
he is now fallen inio. For beggars' children lo live vagrants 
and poor is not so lamentable as for a great prince's children to 
becotnc such. One never in favor with the prince grieves not 
as he dolb that was once in favor, but now cast out. Man is 
.1 now rejected of Go<l that was beloved of Grod. He is dow a 
Urunagaie up and down the earth lliat was once a prince and lord 
Nof all l)ie world. This is one aggravation of the damned's sor- 
row. O, the hopes, the meanii, the mercies that once I had ! 
Can these, do these lament for th e loss o f their hopes and c om- 
jnon mercies ? Lord, what hearts, then, have meW that WilTnot, 
do not, ihaTwil! not lament the loss of such special high favors, 
now gone, which once ihey had ? It is said that those that saw 
llie glory of the flrst temple we|>t when they saw the giory of 
the second, and how inferior it was to the tiral. You that either 
have the temple of God begun to be repaired in you, or not 
begun at all, O, think of the temple burnt, the glory of God now 
vanished and lost. 

This speaks comfort lo all God's people. If all Adam's pos- 
terity were perfectly righteous in him, then thou llial art of the 
blood royal, and in Christ art perfectly righteous in him much 
more, inasmuch as the righteousness of the second Adam exceeds 
the first, so art thou more hnppyi more holy in tlie second Adam 
than ever the first in himself was. He might lose all bis right- ^ 
I eousness ; but the second Adam can not, halh not ; so that, if -^ 
Christ may be damned, then thou mayest ; else not. H 

This likewise reprovelh three sorts of people : — H 

F J, 1. pUfih M y ^g a^hnp ^ fii nf linlinpm- I^rd, what limes afft-'H 

HS«|t fldlea into now ? The ir^iigt-of-eect-Whlch was once mea't fl 
^^^Hgto^, li oow their shame ; and sin, wliich is men's shame, ii H 
^^^ISeW tb^ S^oi?- ^hc world hath raised up many false reports ^ 
, of holy courses, calling it folly imd preciseness, pride, hyjxicrisy, 

and that, whatsoever shows men may make, they are as bad na 
(he worst, if their sins wore writ in their foreheads. Hence it 
Cometh to pass thai many a man, who is almost persuaded to bci 
I a new man, and to lam over r new leaf, dares nol, will not, fof ■ 


Fliniii^ of ilii" world, enter upon religious coursps. What will 
llii^y lliiJik of me then? Eaith he'. Men ore a^hflmcd to refuse 
~ t> drink hculilis, and hence mainlain ibem I&wful- Our goUanln 
,rc asliamed to stay a mile behind the fashion ; hence they will 
defend open and naked breasts and strange apparal, as things 
comely. O. lime servers ! that have some conscience to desire 
to be honest, and to be reputed so, yet conform themselves to all 
companies/ If they hear others swear, they are ashamed to 
reprove tfacin ; they are ashamed to enter the lists of holy dis- 
course in bod company ; and tbey will pretend discretion, nnd 
we roust not east pearls before su'ine ; but the bottom of the 
business is, they arc a^^hamed to be holy. O, fearful ! Is it a 
shame to be like God ? O, sinful wretches I It is a credit to 
be any thing but religious, and, with many, religion is a shame. 
J wonder with n-hut luce thou durest pray, or with what look 
thou wilt bclxtld the Lord of glory at Ilie last day, who art 
ashamed of him now, that will be admired of all men, angels, 
M)d devib then ? Dost thou look for wages from Christ (hat 
Art ashamed to own Christ, or to wear his livery ? 

3. It reproves them that hate lioliue§9, whicJi is more than to 
be ashamed of it. 

S. It reproves ibem that__jamEnt with a ce rtnio^ 
noaaure of hoUa cBs. Perfect hoTiness was Adam's ITlin^, 
whereby he pleased God ; and shall a little holiness content 

Now, there are lhe»c three sorts of tliem ; — 

1. Tbe for roalis t, who contents himself with some holiness, as 
much OS will credit Tiim. t" ' ' t 

The form and. name of raligion h^onotj honor sometimes; 
but the power and practice of it is anm, a burden ; hence men 
take up ihe lirst, and shake off tl)e~Second. Snd indeed the 
greaicsi part take up this course ; if they have no goodness, 
they should be the shame, scorn, and table talk of the times ; 
therefore every man will, for his honor's sake, have this form. 
" iw, this form is according to the mold wherein he is cast. If 
his ftc(]uaintance be but civil, he will be like them ; if they be 
nu>r« exact, as to pray, read, confer, he will not stay one inch 
tiohind them. If to be better than his companions, to bear tlio > 
bcU before thero, will credit him, he will be so, whatever it coRt 
bim ; but yet be never will be so exact in his course as to bo 
hated for it, unless he perceives the hatred he contracts from 
■ome men shall be recumitensed with the more love nnd credit ■ 
by other men. He disguiseth himself acconling to the places or 
company he comes into. King >Tuii>ih was a good man so long 


lu Ji-lioiiwlu Llii^ |>riu«l lived. If n liltle religiui 
credit men, tiuit shull tierve for ihnt timi; ; if more in unoilier I 
place, you bhull then luivc ilivm cummending good men, good, -I 
EurmoDs, giood liook^, and drop tbrlh two or three guod Genlences, 
What will tliey thiuk of liim then ? Tber cover iheniselvee 
over with tlicse tig leaves of coiaiuon lionesly to cover tlieir 
nakedncits ; ihvy bait all tliuir courses over wii^ bunesty, tlurt 
they may catch, for they lish only for credit. ( One may trap 
I ihcae people thii8 :\ Follow ibem in their private houses, there is 
^worldlinesB, posaion. looeeneija : and u> ibeir private chaoilKrs, 

vate vain thouglila. In this lyring house you shall then see these 
stage players ; their shop windows are shut ; here no lionesly 
is U) be seen scarce, because their gain, their respect, cornea nM 
in at this door, wbcre none beholds them. Let either minister 
or any faithful friend search, try, discover, accuse, and condemn 
these men as rotten, though gilded, posts, as uiiiiound, bolloW' 
hearted wretches, their hearts will swell like loiids, and liiss like 
snakes, and bork like dogs, against tlieiu that thus censure theio, 
because ihcy rob them of their God they served, their gain i« 

2. The guilty, self-condemned sinner , that goes further than 
the foAnalist, and contents niti)Sflf WIIR so much holiness as wiU 
quiet him ; and hence all the heathen have had some religion, 

' becftuse Ibey had some conscience to trouble them. ^ti^iroBn, 
'if Ikc hath lived in fool sins, and begins to be mcked and troubled 

I for ihem, he will then confess nnd forsake those sins. But how ? 

4 As a dog ilolh his meat ; not because he hates liis_caruifflt_but 
bec(mse_Uit^fear8 the cuogeT He pciTormB7''orj duties, not 
because he wiU lifie*th~i>ui,~ltut because be must, use them ; there 
is no (juict else. If conseienct! be still, be omits duties ; if con- 
science cry and stir, he falls to duties and so halh his good ntood 
as ciHiscience halh his fits. They boost ond crow over hypo- 
criles, beuatise liio holiness lliey have is not a bare show. No ; 
but it is to stop ihy conscience, and only to quiet tlie clamors of 
that. Thou dost bribe, and so quiet (the bailiff) thy conscience, 
by tby praying, hearing, an<1 sorrowing; but God, thy Judges 
liath heavy things to lay to tliy charge, before whom thou slislli I 

■ shortly with dread appear. 

^^. The pining and devout hyj>ocrile, thai, l>eiiig pursued 
e(nieIl7goe8 ruriheT; nntl liItRiltffor jusi 


ness as will save 
Hence the youn'gED 
to Christ, which n 

much hot 
'\ carry him lu heavei 
1 ihe gospel came with that great questioR 
unsound hearts come whh 

i CONVEKT. 23 

now — what he sLould do la inherit eternal life. These people 
set Dp gueh a man in their thoughts to he a very hoDcst man, and 
one doubtless that shall be sarei) ; and hence thej will lake him 
to be their copy nnd sampler, and labor to do as he doth, and to 
live just as he livei^, and to hold opinions as lie luJds, and so 
hope to be eaTcd. They will ask, very inquisitively, What is the 
leitst measure of grace, and the least grain of faith ? and the best ' 
fermons are not such as liumble them moat, but such as flatter \ 
them best ; wherein they may hear how well good desires are 1 
accepted of by God ; which if they hear to be of that virtue to • 
save them, God shall be served only wiih good desires, and the 
devil in their actions all their lives. 

Thus they make any thing serve for God ; they labor not after 
io much hotmess as will honor Christ, but after juat so much as 
will bear their charges tolicaven, anifsave themselves. For thlsn 
is one of the greatest difierenccs betwixt a child of God and a 1 
hypocrite. In their obedience, the one lakes up duties out of love 1 
,,fn Chrjst, to have him ; and hence ho mourns daily, because CEnst"" 
is no greater gainer by him ; theotherout of love |o lmnself| mere- 
ly to save bis own soul ; and hence hemburns for his sins, becaiisei^ 
they may damn him. Remember that place, therefore, 1 Cor.xr. ukj 

Lastly. Labor to get this image of God renewed again. Honest 
aen will labor to pay theirjlelys; tln_8_is_God!a,dgbt, How 3o 
men labor to be in the fasHIon ! Better to be out of the world 
than out of the fashion. To be like God is heaven's fashion, 
angels' fashion, and it will be in fashion one day, when the Lord 
Jesus shall appear ; then, if thou hast the superscription and image 
of the devil, and not the image of God upon thee, God and Christ 

'II never own thee at that day. Labor, therefore, to have God's 

age restored again, and tjaton's wash out ; seek not, as many dOf 
Io pureiiase such and such a grace first Bui, — 

I. Labor to mortify and eub()ti£^tlut sin whieli 
thine heart to that grace. "T^t put o^ (He M 
pui on the new. (Eph. iv.) 

3. Labor for a meilinff, tender heart for the least sin. Gold is 
dien only fit to receive tlie impression when it b lender and is 
nelled ; when ihine heart ia heated, therefore, at a sermon, cry 
(Kit, Lord, now strike, now imprint thine image upon me ! 1 

S, Labor Io see the Lord Je^as in liis glory. For as ^vicked yf 
men, looking upon the evil example of great ones in the world, 
duU will bear them oui, grow like them in villainy, •to the very 
behoMing the glorious grace in Christ, ibis great Lord of glory, 
iTHMformetb men into this image. (2 Cor. iii. 17. 18.) As the 
gIsM, set full against ihe sun, receives not only the beams, as kU 

ii THE SU'CKitE cu.vrj^uT. 

other dark bodies do, but tlie image of the euii, so ihe undersland* j 
ing, with open face beholding Cbriet, is turned into the image hi 
likeness of ChrisL Men nowadays look only to the best mei 
lives, and see bow they walk, and rest here. O, look higher ta 
this blessed f'nce of God in Christ as thine own. As tJie applica- 
tion of the seid to the wax imprints the image, bo to view the 
grace of Christ as all thine imprints the same image strongly on 
the soul. I come now to the third principal bead in order, which 
I shall iiiHist upon, out ol' Rom. iii. 23 : " All have Binned and 
deprived of tlie glory of God." 




The devil abusing the serpent, and man abusing his men free 
\fwil!, overthrew Adam, and in him all his posterity, by sin. (Geo. 
iiL 1-3 olc.) 

Now, man's misery appears ia these two things : — 
A, His misery in regard of sin. 
\2- His misery in regard of the consequences of sin. 
I. His misery in regard of sin appears in these particulars : — 
1. Every man Uving is born guilty of Adam's sin. Now, the 
justice and equity of God, in laying this sin to every mon'e charge, 
though none of Adam's posterity personally committed it, ap- 
pears thus : — 

First. If Adam standing, all mankind hod stood, then it a 
equal, that he falling, all hb posterity should falL All our estate* 
were ventured in this ship ; tliercfore, if we should have been 
piirttikers of his gains, if he hod continued safe, it is lit we should 
be partakers of hia loss too. 
•^ j But, secondly. IVe are all in Adam, as^a whole country in a 
par^oueat man; the whole country doth what he dolb. And 
L although we made no particular choice of Adam to stand for us, 
I ,, yet the Lord made it for us ; who, being goodoeis ilMlf, bears more 
^L^ goodwill to man than be eon or could bear tq himself; and being 
Hpl wisdom itself, made the wisest choice, and took the wisest coqfsb 
^B fur the good of man. For this made most for men's safety oail 
H quiet; for if hehod Btoo<l,all fear of losingour happy estate had 
H vanished ; whereas, if every man had been left to stand or fall 



I Aiid Hgaiii : lliiij wait Ihe sure way to have nil men's states 
[treaen'ed ; for having the charge of the estnles of all men that 
ever should be in the world, he was the more ]>re«Ar<I to look the 
more about him, and m> to be more watchful, that he be not 
lobbed, and so undo and procure ifae curses of so many thousan^^ 
■gainst him. Adam wiu-i the hMd of mankind, and all mankind I 
Mturally are me mbera of that head: and if the head invent and I 
plot treason, Midthehend practice treason against the king or I 
Btate. the whole body is found guilty, and the whole body mustj 
needs suffer. Adam waa the poisoned root and cisleru of alTl 
mankind : now, the branches and slrearaa being in the root and I 
spring originally, they therefore are tainted with the same poi- I 
soned principles. If these tilings satisfy not, God hath a dayl^ 
coming wherein he will reveal his own righteous proceedings 
before men and angels. (Rom. ii. 4.) 

O that men would consider this sin, and that the considc ration : 
of it could Immble people's hearts 7 If any mourn for sin, it is 
for the moet [lart for other foul actuid sins ; few for this sin thtttt 
ttrst mftde the breach, and began the controversy betwixt God/ 
■nd matk Next unto tiie sin against the Holy Ghost, and con-*I^ 
tempt of the gospel, this is the greatest sin that crieth loudest 
in God's ears for vengeance, day and night, against a world (^ 
men. For now men's sins are against God in their base and low 
estates ; but this sin was committed against Jehovah, when man 
waa at the top of his preferment. Uelwllion of a traitor on a 
dunghill is not so great as of a favorite iu coOrl. Little sina 
■gainst light are made horrible. No sin. by any man committed, 

ever against so much light as Adam had. This sin wiia the 
flnt that ever displeased God. Dninkenness deprives God <^ 
the glory of sobriety ; whoring, of chastity ; but this sin darkens 
'* F very sun, defaces all the image of God, the glory of man, and , 
rt* glory of God in man ; this is the first sin ever did thee mia- , 
■ ehief. This sin, like a captain, faaili gathered together all those ' 
tooops and swarms of sins tliat now take hold upon thee. Thank 
lliissinrorahardheart thou so much compluinest of; thank this sin | 
§Dr that hellish darkness that overspreads thee. This hath raised J 

ji, death, judgment, hell, and heaven a^inst thecv^ . 

I *■ O, consider these sins that are packed up in this evil. ]. Fcar-v 
fbl apo«Usy from Gud like a devil. 2. Horrible rebellion against/ 
Oud in joining sides with the deTil, and taking God's greatest ' 

sies' part agauisl God. :t. Woful unbelief, iu suspectingv' 
,Gad*s threats to be true. 4. Fcnrful blasphemy in eonecivtng v 
Ak devil (God*B enemy nnd man's murderer) to be more true in 
Us temptations thanirofl in his ihrcaleiiing. o. Horrible pride, 


in Ihinking to make this sin of eating tlie forbidden fruil to" 
be a. step and a stuir to rbe higher, and to be like God himselt. 

^6. Fearfulcontcmpt of God, mitking bold to rush upon the award 
of the threatening secretly, oot fearing the plague denounced. 

J 7. Horrible nnthankfulncss, when God hiid giren him all but one 
tree, and yet he must be lingering that too. 8. Horrible lbGi>, 
in taking that which was none of his own. 9. Horrible idolatry, 
,in doting apoa and loving tbe creature more than God the 
Creator, who is blessed forever. 

You, therefore, that now say, No man can say, Black is your 
eye, you have lived civilly all your days, look upon ttiis one 
grievous sin, take a full view of it, which Ihou hast never shed 
one tear for as yet, and see thy misery by it, and wonder at 
God's patience ( he bath spared thee who wast born branded with 
it, and hast lived guilly of it, and must perish forever for it, if 
the Lord from heaven pity thee not. 

I But here is not all. Consider, secondly, every man is bom stark 
dead iu sin. (Ephes. ii. I.) He is bom empty of every inward 
principle of life, void of all grace, and bath no more good in 
liim (whatsoever he thinks) than a dead carrion hath. And 
he ia under tbe power of sin, as a dvad man is under the power 
of death, and can not perforua any act of life ; tbeir bodies arc 
living colfins to carry a dead bouI up and down in. 

It is trae, (I confess,) many wicked men do many good actions, 
as praying, hearing, alms deeds ; but it is not from any inward 
\Jprincipie of life.^ External motives, like plummets on a dead 
(yeTSlTlficiaiJ clock, set them a-rnnning. Jehu was zealous, 
but it was only ibr a kingdom ; the Pharisees gave alms only to 
be seen of men. If one write a will with a dead man's hand 
deceased, that will can not stand in any law; it was not his will, 
because it was not writ by him, by any inward principle of 
life of his own. Etide. makes a man preach, pride makes a man 
hear, and pray sometimes. Self-love stirs up strange desires in 
^en, so that we may say, This is none of God's act by his grace in 
the soul, but pride and self-love. Bring a dead man to the tire, 

iud chafe liim, and rub him, you may produce some heat by tbis 
ezlemal working upon him ; but take him from the fire agiun, 
ud he is soon cold ; so many a man that lives under a sound 
ninister, under the lashes and knock of a chiding, striving con- 
science, he hath some heat in him, some affections, some fears, 
some desires, some sorrows stirred ; yet take him from the min- 
ister and his chaling conscience, and be grows cold again pres- 
ently, because he wimts on inward principle of life. 

Which [Hiiut niigiit make us to lake up n bitler Innientution fo^ 


evi>ry nnlnral man. It is said, (Ex. xii. 30,) " That llicre was 
K great cry in E;;ypl, for there was not A house wherein there 
wiu not onR found dead." O Lord, in some towns nnd families, 
what a world of these are there ! Dead husband, dead wife, 
<leiul serrantd, dead children, walking up and down with their 
tins, (ua fame saitli some men do after death,) witli grave clothes 
about ihem ; and God only know» whether ever they shall live 
again or noL How do men lament the to»s of their dead friends ! 
O, thou haet a preciouK soul in thy borara elark dead ; therefore 
lament thine estate, and consider it aeiiously. 

First. A dead man ean not atir, nor offer to stir ; n wicked man 
can not spealc one gooil word, or do any good action, if heaven 
itself did lie at the stake for doing it, nor offer Co shake off hi« 
mns, nor thinl> one good tboughL Indeed, he may speak and 
think of good things, but he can not have good speeches, nor 
good Ihou^htH ; as a holy man nay think of evil things as of 
the sins of the times, the thought of those evil things b good,l1 
not evil, io e contra. \ 

Secondly. A dead man fears no dangers, though never so 
great, though never so near. Let ministers bring a natural 
man tidings of the approach of the devouring plagues of God de- 
nounced, lie fears them not. 

Thirdly. A dead man can not be drawn to accept of the best 
offer*. Let Christ come out of heaven, and fall ^hont the neck , 
*f a naluntl man. and with tears in his eyes beseech him to take ' 
%is blood, himself, his kingdom, and leave his sins, he can noi 
reeeive this offer. 

Fourthly. A dead man is stark blind, and can see nothing, and 
Ktark deaf, and hears nothing, he can not taste any thing ; bo a 
Batuntl mah is stark blind, he sees no God, no Christ, nu wrath 
of the Almighty, no glory of heaven. He hears tlie voice of a 
man, but he bears not the voice of God in a sermon ; " he eai'or- 
elh not the things of God's Spirit" 

. Fifthly. A de^d man ia senseless, and feels nothing: so cast 
mountains of sin upon a wicked man, he feels no hurt until the 
flnmea of hell break out upon him. 

Sixthly. A dead man is a speechless man ; be can not speak 
unless it be like a parrol. 

Seventhly. He is a breathless nan : a natural man may eaj a 
srayer, or devise a prayer out of his memory and wit, or be uiay 
BAve a few short-winded wishes ; but to |K>ur out bis soul in 

rayer, in tlie bosom of God, wiih groans unutterable, he can not. 
wonder not to see at many families without family prayer.l 
Vhy ? They are dead men, and lie nilting in ihcir sins. R 

Sb tin: t^lKL-ERE tOSVERT. , 

Eiglillily. AileaJ manhAth lost nllbemily: so n mere natural 
IDAn lialh lost nil ^lory ; be is lui uj:ly cr<^ii1iire in llie aioht of 
God, good men, und aiigc-U, and shall onu (Uy be ud abhorriug 
to all Sesit. 

t Ninthly. Adeiid nion hath his worms gnnninghim: sonalurnl 
en liave Uie worm of conscience breeding now ; which will lie 
IB wing ibem shortly. 

Lastly. l>ead men wani nothing but cnsting into the grave : so 
there wants nothing but easting into bell for a natural man. So 
that, as AbrHham loved Sarah well while living, yet when she waa 
dead, he geeks for ii burying-phice for her to carry her out of bis 
ngbl. So God may let some fearfiil judgment loose, and say to 

, it, Take this dead soul out of my sight, etc It was a wonder 
that Lazarus, though lying but four days in the grave, should 
live again. 0, wonder iboa that ever God sliould let thee live, 
that bast been rotting in thy »in twenty, thirty, perhaps sixty 
jears together. 
— — IIL Every natural man and woman is born full of all sin, 
(Boro. i. 29,) as full as a toad is of poison, as full as ever his skin 
can hold ; mind, will, eyes, mouth, every limb of his body, and 
every piece of his soul, is full of sin ; iheir hearts are bundles of 
sin ; hence Solomon saitb, '' Foolishness is bound up in the heart 
of a child;" whole treotmres of sin. "An evil man, (said ChriGl,) 
out of the evil treasure of big heart, bringeth forth evil things ; " 
nay, raging seas of siu. Tlie tongue is a world of mischief. 
What is the heart then ? " For out of the abundance of the 
heart the tongue spcnkuth :'' so that, look about thee and see, what- 
ever sin is broached, and mns ont of any man's heart into bis 

^£e through the whole worM, all those sins are in thine heart ; 

\lny mind is a nest of all the foul opinions, heresies, that ever 
were vented by any man ; thy heart is a foul sink of all atheism, 
sodomy, blasphemy, murder, whoredom, adultery, witcbcrafl. 
buggery ; so lliiil, if thou hast any good thing in thee, it is but 

I as a drop of I'osewaler in a bowl of poii^on ; where fallen it is 

1 1 all corrupted. 

1 L^'It is true ibou feelcst not nil these things stirring in thee at 
j one time, no more than Hazacl thought be was or should be such 
a bloodsucker, when he asketl the prophet Kli»ha if he were a 
dog i but they are in thee like a nest uf snakes in an old hed<;c. 
Although tiiey break not out into thy life, they lie lurking in thy 
heart; ihey ai^ there as a Slthy puddle in a barrel, which runs 
not out, because thou happily wantest (be temptation or occasion 
to brooch and tap thine heart ; or because of God's restraining 
grace by fear, shame, education, and good company, thou ' ^ 



feiitrAined ami bridled up, and ibei-erore when one i.'ame to com- 
■ fan ihtit famous picture, pattern, and monument of Goil's justice 
by seven years' horror, and grievous distress of conscience, when 

e told him he never linil committed anch sins as Manasses, and 
therefore he was not the greatest sinner since the creation, as he 
conceived, lie replied, that he should have been worse than ever 
Afanasses was, if be had lived in his time, and been on bis 
du-one. ,— 

Mr. Bradfonl would never liave looked upon any one's lewd 
life with one eye, but he would presently return within big owh 
breast with the oilier eye, and say, " In this my vile breast re* 
nnitiG that sin, which, without God's special grace, I should have 
litled as well as he." 0, melhinks this might pull dowD 
nen's proud conceits of themselves, especially such as bear up 
And comfort themselves in their smooth, honest, civil life ; such 
MS through education have been vraahed from all foul sins ; they 
were never tainted with whoredom, swearing, drunlcenness, or 
profaneness; and here they think themselves so safe, that God 
ean not lind in his heart to have a thought of damning them. 7^ 

0, consider of iJiis jKiinI, which may make thee pull thine hair 
Itom thine hfttd, and turn thy elothej to sackcloth, and run up 

and down willi amazement and paleness in thy face, and horror 
in thy conscience, and tears in thine eyes. What though thy life 
be smooth, what llmugh thy outside, thy sepulcher, lie piunted? . 
.O, tbou art full of rottenness, of sin, within. Guilty, not before X 
, nen. as the sins of thy life make thee, but before God, of all the 
s that swarm and roar in the whole world at this day, for Gud 
, looks to the heart ; g uilty thou art therefore of heart whoredom,^ 
hem WXUimy, heart blasphemy, heart drunkenness, heart. bug- 
tgery, heart oppression, be:ii-t idohitry; and these are the sins 
> Ibal terribly provoke the wrath of Almighty God against thee, 
(li. Ivii. 17.) "For the iniquity of his covetousness," salth our 
translation, " I smote him ; " but the Hebrew renders it bettor — 1 
** For the iniquily of his concupiscence " (which is the sin of his y 
henrf and nature) '' I smote him." As a king is angry and 
Blusters up bis army against rebels, not only which brings his 
•oldiers uQt to li^hl, but who keeps soldiers in their trenches 
k<nady fur to lighL These sins of thine heart are all ready 
incd to fight against God at Uie watchword or alarm of any 
l,4nnptalion. Nay, I dare nOirm and will prove it, that these sins 
■ provoke God to anger, and are as bod, if not worse, than the sins 
i thy life. For,— 

1. The sin of thine heart or nature is the cause, the womb 
Wfit»t contain*, breeds. bnn^Tortli. suckles 4II the litter, all (he 

troop of sina tUal are in thy life; «nU iherefore, giving-life and 
being to all olher, it is the grenlest sin. 

2. Sin is more abundantly injU jiypirt tlmfi in the life . An 
actual Bin ia hut a little breach made hy the sea of am in lliios 
hoiirt, wlicre all em, all poieon, ia met and miDgled together. 
Every actual sin is but as a shred broken oif from the great bottom 
of sin iit the heurt ; and hence Christ saitb, " Out of the abun- 
dance of the heart the mouth speakethj and out of the ei-il 
treasure of the heart we bring forth evil thingg." A man spend- 
ing money (I mean sin in the life) ia nothing to his irensure of 
sin in the heart. 

8. Sin is conti nually in^ e heai't. Actual sins of the life fly 
ont lite sparks, and vnniflh; but this brand is always glowinff 
within : the toad B[)its poison sometimes, but it retains and keeps 
& poisonful nature always. Hence the apostle calls it " sin that 
dwells in me," that is, which always lies and remains in me. So 
that, in regard of the sins of thy heart, thou dust rend in piccn 
V^ and break, 1. All tlie laws of God. 2. At one clap. 3. Ev- 
ery moment of lliy life. O, melhinks llie thought of this 
might rend a heart of rock in pieces ; to think I am always 
I grieving God at all times, whatsoever I <!o. 

4. Actual sins are only in the life and outward porch ; sins of 

' the heart are within the inwani house. One enemy within tba 

I city is worse than many without ; a traitor on the throne 

is worse than a traitor in the open tield. The heart is Christ's 

, throne. A swine in the best room is worse than in the out- 

■ward house. More 1 might say ; but thus, you see, sins of the 

life ure not so bad, nor provoke God's wrath so fiercely against 

thee, as the sins of thine heart. Mourn, therefore, not so much 

that thou hast not been so had as others ore, but look upon thy 

black feet — look within thiiin own lieoi-t, and lament that, ia 

J regard of thy sins there, thou art as bad as any ; m 
much merely that thou hast sinned, as that thou hast _ _ 

imtui, [bat It is iby naturejojie pi^d, ana thy nature lo be vi 
JBKTffeCei I f ijTj"aniI loathe not only (tiy sins; iinr Wyself " ' 
sin; being hrimful of unrighteousness. But here i 
Consider fourthly. 

IV. That whatever a naUiiul man doth is sin ; as the in* 1 
side is full, so the outside is n'otliing^elaeTjut sin, at least in ihs I 
sight of H holy God, thougli not in the sight of blind, sinful I 
men. Indued, be mivy do many things, which, for the matter of I 
/'them, wo good ; as he may give alma, pray, fast, come M 1 
church : but as they come from him they are sin ; as a 
may speak goofl words, hut we can not endure to hear him i[ 
because of liis stinking breath which defiles iheia. Some actiin 





tnileeil. from ibi^ir gcnenil nature, are indiSerenl, fur nil iniiiffrr- 
'« lie in gentrah; but ever/ deliberalfi nciion, considered in 
individwt, with all its circumsianced, lu lime, plnve, motive, en(l,\ 
u either morally good or morally evil, as mtty be proved ensilv; 
mornlly good in good men, morally evil in unregenenile and bud 
men, For let us sec particular autiane of wicked men. 

t. All their thoughts are only evil, and that eotitinually. 
(Gen. vi. 5.) 

2. All their words Are sins, {Vi. 1. 16:) their moittha are open 
- wpukhers. which fmell filthy when they are opened. 

3. All their civil actions are Bins, aa their eating, drinking, 
buying, M-'lting, sleeping, and ploughing, (Prov. xxi. 4.) 

4. All their religious acticaia are siiia, aa coming to church, 
prnying, (Pniv. xv. 8, 9; xxviii. 9,) fasting and mourning: roiir 
Mid cry out of thyself till doom^duy, they are sinfi. (Is. Iviii.) 

5. All their most zealous actions arc sins, as Jehu, who killtid 
all Uattl's priesra: because his action was outwardly and male- 
rialty good, therefore God rewarded him with temporal favors ; 
but because he had a hawk's eye to get and settle a kingdom to 
himself by this means, and so was theologically evil,, therefore 
God threatens to be revenged u]K>n him. (llosea i. 4.) 

I 6. Their wisdom is sin. O, men are often commended for 
I their wisdom, wit, and parts ; yet thoiie nits, and that wisdom of 
I theirs, are am. (Rom. viii.) The wisdom of the flesh ia enmity 
f against God. 

I Thus all they have or do are sins ; for bow can he do any 
I good action whosqpersonj4_Jillhy ? "A corrupt tree can not 
I bring forth good fniirr''thiiirnfn>ut of Christ ; therefore all ihy 

K>d things, all Ihy kindnesses done unio the Lord, and for the 
rd, >s thou thiakest, are most odious to him. I^'t a womafl' 
I seek to give all the content to her husband that may be, not out I 
I of any bve to him, but only out of love to another man. he 1 
I Abhor* all that she doth. Kvery wicked man wants an inward , 
I if rincigle ofJgJX.tO. God and_ Christ, and therefore, ttioti 01 Il6" 
I teelts to honor God n<iver so niucli, all that he dotli being done | 
tout of love to himaelf, God abhors all that he performs. All tliu 
I goad lBTiT]^~a wicK6?~ man doth ore for himself, either for self- 
& credit or self-case, or setf-content, or 8ell.^tely : W tiee|ia, 
I pmya, hears, speaks, prof<-«selh for himself alone ; hence, acting 

■ always fur himself, he committelh the highest degree of idolatry; 

■ bo plucks God out of his throne, and makes himself a god, , 
B because he makes himself his loAt end in every action i for n 
B Bum puts bimM-'lf in the room of God as well bv making him- 
P«elf his //Hi «//iV/iiu. lu if he should make hXuiMf priuima 


. Sill is II rorsii king or dfpnriiiig IViim G ml. Now, 
KfHTy uuiural 'inan~i¥iilfii'miig nlways iii a, stale of ^efisratiaK 
from Grod, because he iilwiiys wants the bond of union, whieh » 
faith, is nlwnys ginning; God's ctir^ lies ui>onliira; therefore hft 
lirinj^ out nothing but briers nn<l thorne. 

Objection. But iliou wilt bbv,. If our pniyiag and hearing be sin, 
\rhj should we do IliCKe duties ? We must not sin. ^ 

AMieer 1. Good duties are good in lhem8elve3, although, romiog 
tntn thy vile heart, ihey are sins. 

2. It ia less sin to do ihem than to omit themi thei-efore, if 
Ihon will go to hell, go in the fairest path ihou canst in thilher. 

3. Venture and try ; it inny be God muy hear, not for thy 
prayers' sake, but tor his name's sake. Tlie unjust judge helped the 
poor widow, not beenuse he loved her suit, but for her importu- 
nity ; and so bo euro thou elialt have nothing if thou dost oot 
sefek. What though thou art a dog. yet thou art alive, and art for 
the preaent under the liible. Cateh not at Clinet, snatch not at 
his bread, but wait till God give thee him; it may be thou 
mayest have him one day. O, wonder then at God's patience, 
ihnt thou live^t one day longer, who liast ail thy lifetime, like & 
filthy toad, spit ihy venom in the face of God, that he hath never 
been (|uit of [bee. O, look ujion thai black bill that will one, 
day be put in against thee at the great day of account, when 
tliou must answer with flames of fire about thine ears, not 
only for thy drunkenness, thy bloody oaths and whoring, but for 
all the actions of thy short life, and just so many actions n 
many sins. 

Thou hast pajiilcd thy face over now with good duties and 
good desires; and a little honesty, amongst some men, is of tliM 
worth and rarity, that they think God is beholding to them, if he 
can gel any good action from. But when thy painted face shatt' 
be brought before the fire of God's wrath, then lliy vilenesa Bboll 
appear before men and angclji. O, know it, that as ihou doat 
nothing else but sin, so God heaps np wrath against the dreadful, 
day of wrath. * 

Thus much for man's misery in regard of sin. 

Now followeth his misery in reganl of the consequents or mic? 
eries that follow upon sin. And these arc, 1. Presence. 2. Fuliir«.. 

First. Man's present miseriis, that ah-eady lie on him for sioj. 
are these seven ; that is, — 
./ First. God is his dreadful enemy. (Ps. v. .').) 

Qufition, How may one know another to be his enemy ? 

Antwer I. Bv their looks. 2. By their threats. 3. By: 
blow^. So God,'— 


1. Hides hU face from every natural man, and will not look 
upon him. (Is. lix. 2.) 

2, Goil llireatens.nay.cursethevery natural man. (Gal.iii. 10.) 
a. God gives them heavy, liloody Inshes on Iheir souls and " 

Never tell me, therefore, tliBt God blesMJthjhee in thiiie out- , 
wiinl frt'"'" ; no greater sign of God's wrath than for tlie Lord ' 
to ^ve thee thv swing, as a father nev er lo oks aflcr a desperate ' 
Bun, but lets "him run where Tie pleases. And if God be thine 
enemy, then every creature is so too, both io heaven and earth. 

Seconiily. God hath forsaken them, and they have lost Godl 
(K^h. ii. 12.) It is said, that, in the grievous famine of Samaria, 
doves' dung was sold at a large price, because they wanted 
bread. O, men live and pine away without God, without bread, 
knd therefore the dung of worldly contentments are esteemed so 
nuch of, thou host lost the sight of God, and the favor of God, 
And the special protection of God, and the government of God. 
Cain's punishment lies upon thee in thy natural estate ; thou art a 
runagate from the face of God, and from his tace thou art hid. 
llany have grown mad to see their houses burnt, and all their 
ipoods lost. O, but God, the greatest good, U tost. This loss made 
Saul cry out in distress of conscience, (1 Sam. szviii. 15,) The 
Philistines make war against me, and God is departed from me ; 
the lossof the sweetness of whose presence, for a little while only, 
made the Lord Jesus Christ cry out. My God, roy God, why hast 
thou forsaken me ? whereas thou hast lost God all thy lifetime. 
O. thou liast a heart of brass, that canst not mourn for hiii absenw 
■D long. The damned in hell have lost God, and know it, and so t 
thi' plague of dl^iierate horror lieth upon them ; thou liosl lost 
God here, but knowest it not. and the pla£<je of a. tmrd brnrt tielh 
Upon tliL-u, thou that canst not mourn tor this loss. . 

Thirdly. They are condemned men, condemned in the courN^ 
of God's justice, by the law which cries. Treason, treason against 
the niaiit high God, and condemned in the court of mercy, by the 
gnspeh which erics, Murder, murder against the Son of God, 
(John iii. 18;) so that every natural man is damned in heaven, 
and dnmneti on eariii. (^>d is thy all-seeing, tercibla Judge; eon- 
Mience is tliinc accuser, a heavy witness i this world is thy jail; I 
Ay lujla KK thy fetters. In thiK Bible is pronounced and writ 
thy doom, thy sentence. Death is thy liiuigman, and that fire that 
•hall never go out thy torment. TItc Lord hnilt in his infinite 
patience reprieved iht^e fur a time : O, lake heed and get a par- 
wn before the day of execution come. 

Fuunhly. Ileinj; condemned, lake him, jailer; he is a l>nridKlave 

m THE atNCE 

lo Siidiri, (Epli. ii. S:) for, Ilia sen-ants ye are whom ye obey, 
snitti CbrisL Now, every natural man dolli the devil's drudgeryi 
and carries the devil's pnuk ; and hgivsoever lie saith he delieltl* 
the ilevil, yet he eina, and so doth his work. Satan balh overr' 
come and conquered all men in Adam, and tlierefore they are: 
under his bondage and dominion. And though he ean not compd, 
a man to em against his will, yet he hath power, — 

Ftrat. Tu present and allure man's heart by a sinful tem[H 

Secondly. To follow him with it, if at fintt he be something. 
Bhy of iL 

Thirdly. To disquiet and rack him, if lie will not yield, 
might be made lo appear in many instances. 

Fourthly. Besides, he knows men's humors, as poor wondoF' 
ing, beggarly gentlemen do their friends in necessity, (yet in.' 
seeming courtesy,) he visits and applies himself unto them, anA 
80 gains them as his own. O, he is in a fearful slavery who il 
under Satan's dominion, who 'm 

1. A iecret enemy lo thee. 

2. A deceitful enemy to thee, thnt will make a man belieye (U 
he did Evah, even in her integrity) chat he is iu a fair way, 
when his condition i» miserable. 

3. He is a cruel enemy or lord over them that be his slavey, 
(2 Cor. iv. -i ;) be gags them so that they can not speak, (as that: 
man that had a dumb devil,) neither for God, nor to God, in prayer [ 
he starves them, so as no sermon shall ever do them good j he"' 
robs them of all they get in God's ordinances, within three houiS 
tJit^ the market, Ihc sermon ia ended. 

4. He is aslrofigenemy. (Liikexi.21.) So tliat if all thedevik 
in hell are able to keep men from coming out of. their sins.htf 
will: ao strong an enemy, that he keeps men from so much a 
sighing or groaning under their burdens and bondage. (Luke xi. 
21.) Wheu Ihc strong man keeps the jwlace, his goods are in 

Fifthly. He is cast into utter darkness ; as cruel jailers put their 

prisoners into the worst dungeons, so Satan doili natural men, 

(2 Cor. iv. 3, 4 ;) they see no God, no Christ ; lliey see not the 

happiness of the saints in light ; they see not those drcndful tor- 

menis that should now in this day of grace awaken them and 

bumble them. O, those by-paths which thousands wander from 

God in. they have no lamp to their feet to show them where they 

nerr. Thou that art in thy natural estate, art horn Mind, and 

11 the devil halh blinded thine eyes more by sin, and God ii; justicA . 

Hhad blinded ihem worse tor sin. so that ihou art in n cdn>er <fm 

hell, because thou art in utter darkness, nliere iliou iiitst not ii 
glimpse of any saving truth. 

Sisthlj. Thej ure bound hand ami foot \a (his estate, and 
GMi not come out, (Rom. v. ti ; 1 Cor. ii. 14 ;) for hU kind of sins, 
like chains, have bouud every port and faculty of man, so ilutt . 
he is sure for stirring ; and tliose are very strong in him, they 
being as dmr as his members, nay, aa his life, (Col. iii. 7 ;) so 
that when a man begins to forsake his vile courses, and pur< 
pDseih to beeome a new tnan, ilevils fetch liim bat^k, world 
enticetb him, and locketh him up ; and flesh snith, O, it is too 
•trict a course j farewell, then, merry days and good fellowship. 
V O, ihou mayest wish and desire to come out some time, but caniit 
Dot put strengtli to thy desire, nor endure to do it. Thou 
mayeflt hang down thy bead like a bulrush for sin, but thou 
canst not repent of sin ; thou mayost presume, hut thou canst 
not believe ; Ihou mayest come lialf way, and forauke some sins, 
but not all sins; ttiou mayest come and knock at heaven's gale, 
M the foolish virgins did, hut not enter in and pass through 
the gale ; thou mayest see the land of Canaan, and take much 
pwii to go into Canaan, and mayest tadto of the bunches of 
grapes of that good land, but never enter into Canaan, into 
heaven, but lliou lie bound, hand anil foot, in this woful estate, 
wid here thou must lie and rot like a dead carijass in his grave, 
until the Lord come and roll away the stone, and bid thee come '- 
out and live. 

LASlly. They are ready every moment to drop into hell. 
God is a consuming fire against thee, and there is but one pajier it 
wait of thy body between thy soul and eternal flames. How II 
■oun may God slop thy breath! There is nothing but that be- 
tween tbee and hell; if that were gone, then farewell all^ 
Thou art condemned, and the muffler is before thin 
knows how suou the ladder may be turned; thou baugest b 
one rotten twined thread of thy life, over the flames c 
every hour. *" 

Thus ranch of man's present miseries. 

Now followelh his future miseries, whicJi aie to come upon 
him hereafter, 

I. They must die either by a sudden, sullen, or desperate death, 
(Ps. IsxAix. 48,) which though it is to a child of God a sweet 
sleep, yet to llie wicked it is a fearful curse proceeding from 
God's wrath, whence, like a lion, he t«ars body and soul asunder ; 
death comelh hissing U|>on him like a Sery dragon with the sfing 
of vengeance in the mouth of it ; it puts a period to all their 
worMly contentmenti, which then they must forsake,.an(l carry 

tare wen all. 
e eyes. Goal 
uigest but by I 
lames of hell I 


iiottiinr; aSyay witli them but a rotten winding BheeL It is llie 
beginning of all their woe ; it is the cnplAin that first strikes the 
Etrokc, and then armiiis of endless woes follow after. (Rev. 
rrrrz.) O, Ihou had=t better be a toad, or a dog, than a man, for 
there's an end of their troubles when they are dead and gone ; 
thej full not as men from n steep hil), not knowing where they 
shall fall : novr repentance ie too late, eBpecially if thou hudst 
lived under means before ; it is either cold rejicntftnce, when the 
body is weak, and the heart is 8i<?k, or a hypocritical repentance, 
only for fear of hell; and therefore thou sayest, "Lord Jesus, 
. Ireeeive my soul." Nay, commonly then, men's hearts are most 
\J HiSTd, and therefore men die like lambs, and cry not out; 
then it is hard plucking thy soul from the denl's hands, to whom 
thou hast given it all thy life by sin; and if thou dost get it 
back, dost thou think that God will take the devil's leavings ? 

I Now thy day is past, and darkness begins to overspread thy soul ; 
now flocks of devils come into thy chamber, waiting for thy soul, 
to fly upon it as a masiiR* dog when the door is opened. And 
this is the reason whj- most men die quietly that lived wicke<lly, 
because Satan then hath them as his own prey; Uke pirates, 
who let a ship pass that is empty of goods, they shoot cotnmonly at 
them that are richly loaden. The Christians, in some parts of the 
primitive church, took the sacrament every day, because ihcy 
did look to die every day. But these limes wherein we live are 
>^B0 poisoned and glutted with their ease, that it is a rare thing to 
see the man that looks death steadfastly in the face one hour to- 
gether : hut death will lay a bitter stroke on these one day/ 

II. Af)er dcaih they appear before the Lord to judgiueni, 
(Heb. ix. 27 ;) Ihcir bodies indeed rot in their graves, but their 
souls return before the Lord to judgment. (Eecles. sii. 7.) fXhe 
general judgment is at the end of the world, when both body 
', and soul appear before God, and all the world to an account 
iBut there is a particular judgment that every man meets with 
after this life, immediately at the end of his life, where the soul 
is condemned only before the Lord. 

You may perceive what this particular judgment is, thus, by 
. the se fiiur conclus ons — 

I 1. That every n an «! ould die the first day he was bom, is 
Iclear; for "the wages ol s n sdcaih;" in justice, therefore, it 
should be paid of a s tul cruature as soon as he is bom. 

2. That it should be thus w Ih wicked men, but that Christ 
begs their lives lor a season (1 Tim. ir.) He irtbrrSiHuutc of 
^ irf- ill Sien ; that is, not a Sn our uf eternal preservation out of hell, 
^K^^||^*-£M'ionr of tempornl reservation from dropping into helL ■ 

THE sikcehg convert. 57 

3. That thia space of time, tbuA begged by Christ, is thttt| 
teason wbereia only a man c&n muke hid peace with a displeased 
God. (2 Cor. \\. 2. ) 

4, That if meo do not ihus within this cut of time, when death 
hath despatched them, judgment only remains for them ; that ia, 

their doom is read, tlieir dale of repentance is out, then 
their sentence of everlasting death is passed upon them, that 
never can be recalled again. And this is judgment after death. 
"He that judgeih himself," saith the aponlle. (1 Cor. xi. 31,) 
ehall not be judged of the Lord." Now, wicked men will not 
judge and condemn themselves in this life; therefore, at the end of 
it, God will judge ibetn. All natural men are lost in this life, but 
diey may be found and recovered again j but a man's loss by ^Z 
detvih is irrecoverable, because there is no means after death t(^/ 
restore them, there is no friend to persuade, no minister U> 
preach, by which faith is wrought, and men get into Christ ; 
there is no power of returning or repenting then; for night ii 
flome, and the day is past 

Again: the punishment is so heavy that they can only bear 
wruh, so that all their ihoughls and an'octious are taken up with 
(be burden. And, therefore, Dives cries out, " I am tormented." 
O that the considcnition of this point might awaken every secure 
•inner! What will become of thine immortal soul when ihoo 
art dead ? Thou saycst, 1 know not ; I ho|te well. 1 tell thee, 
therefore, that which may send tbec mourning to thy house, and 
qunking (o thy grave, if thou diest in this esliite, tbou shalt not dis 
^eadog, nor yet like a toad; but st^er death conies judgment; 
farewell friends when dying; and farewell Uod forever, 
when thou art dead. 

Now, the Lord open your eyes (o see the terrors of this par- 
ulsr judgment ; which if you could see, (unless you were mad,) 
it would nuke you spend whole nights and days in seeking to set 
■11 even with Ciod.^ 

will show you briefly the manner and nature of it in these 

1. Thy soul shall be clraggcd out of thy body, as out of it 
foul priso n, by the devil, the jailer, into some place within the 
SowelTot the third heavens, and there thou sbalt stand siripjwd 

all friends, all eotnfort, all creatures before the presence of 
Guft, (Luke ix. 27;) as at the assixes, first the jailer brings the 
prisoners out 

2. Then ihy soul shall hare a new light put into it, whereby 
U «hnU we the glorious presence of God, as prisoners brought 

Fiiti guilty eye« look wiili terror upon the judge. Now 1^ 
▼OL. I. i 


seest no God abroad in tbe world, but then thou shi 
Almighty Jebovftb, tvhich Bight shall strike Ihee with that hellish 
terror and dreadrul horror, that ihoii shalt call to the mountains 
to cover thee — "O rocks, rocks, hide me from the face of ibe 
Lamb." (Rev. Ti. ult.) 

S. Then all the sins that ever thou haet or shalt commit sbatt 
■come fresh to thy mind ; as when the prisoner is come before the 
face of the judge, then his accusers bring in iheir evidence ; tby 
sleepy conscience then will be instead of a thousand witnesses, 
and every sin then, with all the circumstances of it, shall be set in 
order, armed with God's wrath round about thee. (Pa. 1.31.) As 
letters writ with juice of oranges can not be read until it be 
brought unto the fire, and then they appear, so thou can not read 
that bloody bill of indictment thy conscience liath against ihce 
now ; but when thou shalt stand near unio God, a consuming 
fire, then what a heavy reckoning will appear 1 It may be tliou 
hast left many sins now, and goest so far, and profitest so much, 
that no Christian can discern thee ; nay, thou thinkeal thyself in 
& safe estate ; but yet there is one leak in thy ship that will sink 
thee : there is one secret, hidden sin in thine heart, which Ihori 
livest in, as all unsound people do, that will damn thee. I tell 
thee, as soon as ever thou art dead and gone, then thou shalt see 
where the knot did bind thee, where thy sin was that now hnih 
spoiled thee forever, and then thou shalt grow mad to think — O 
that I never saw thu sin I loved, lived in, plotted, perfected mine 
own eternal ruin by, until now, when it is loo late to amend ! 

4. Then the Lord shall take hia everlasting farewell of thee, 
and make thee know it too. Now God is departed from thee in 
this life, but he may return in mercy to thee again ; but when 
the Lord departs with all bis patience, to wait for thee no more, 
nor shall Christ be offered thee any more, no Spirit to strive with 
thee any more, and so shall pass sentence, though Imply not 
vocally, yet effectually upon thy sotil, the Lord saying. " Depart, 
thon cursed," thou shalt see indeed the glory of God thai 
others find, but to thy greater sorrow shall never taste the same. 
(Luke liii. 28.) 

5. Then shall God surrender up tby forsaken soul into tbe 
bands of devils, who, being tby jailers, must keep thee till the 

, i' great day of account ; so that as thy friends are scrambling for 
■ thy goods, and worms for tby body, so devils shall scramble for 
I thy soul. For as soon as ever a wicked man is dead, he is 
either in heaven or in hell. Not in heaven, for no unclean thing 
comes there. If in hell, then amongst devils there shall be thins 
eternal lodging, (1 Pet. iii. 19 ;) and hence thy forlorn soul shall 



Ue mDurning for the lime post, >oio it is too late to recall again ; 
groiUiing under the intolerable lormenta of the wralh of God 
pre^nt, and amazed at the eternity of misery and sorrow that ig 
lo come ; waiting for that fearful hour wbea the last tramp shall 
Uoir, and then body and soul meet to bear that wrath, that 6re 
that shall never go out. O, therefore, suspect and fear the worst~\ ' 
of thyself now ; thou batt seldom or never, or very little, troubled I 
thy bead about this matter, whether Christ will save thee or not, | 
thou hast such strong hopes and confidence already that he wilL_J 
Know that itis^paseible.thoii maye^t be deceived; and if soi 

a thou shalt know thy doom after denlli, thou canst not get 
an hour more to make liiy peiice with God, although thoa 
■houldest weep teari of blood. Jf either the muBler of ignorance 
■hall be before ibine eyes, — like a handkerchief about the face 
of one condemned, — or if thou art pinioned with any lust, or if 
thou makesl thine own pardon, procbiimest ^because thou art 
sorry a little for thy sins, and resoivest never to do the like 
■gain) peace to thy soul, thou art one that after death slialt ap- 
pear before the Lord Ui judgmenL Thou that an thus condemned 
now, dying so, shalt come lo thy fearful judgment af\er death. 

There shall be a general judgment or soul and body at th 
end of the world, wherein they shall he arraigned and condemned 
before the great tribunal seat of Jesus Christ. (Jude 14, 15. 2 
Cor. V. 10.) The bearing of judgment to corae made FeliK to 
tremble ; nothing of more efficacy (o awaken a secure sini 
than sad ihoughis of this fiery day. 

But thou wilt ask me how it may be proved that ther« will 
be such a day. 

answer, God's justice calls fur iL \ This world is thej^tage? 
irhere God^s^^tj ence and bounty act their parts, and hence every I 
nuui iriirprofeas~aiid conceTvei because lie feela ii, that God is mer-| 
eiful. But Grod's justice is questioned ; men think God lo be all , 
mercy, and no justice ; all honey, and no sting. Now, ihe wicked 

riper in all their ways, are never punished, but hve and diel 
peace; whereas ihe godly are daily aiSicied and reviled. 
Tben^fore, because ibis attribute suffers a total eclipse almost,! 
DOW, there must come a day wherein it must shine out before alii 
Ibe world in the glory of iL (Kom. ii. 5.) 

The second reason is from the glory of Christ. He was ' 
Mcuaed, arraigned, condemned by men; therefore he shall be 
tbe Judge of them. (John v. 27.) For thit is an ordinary piece 
God's providence towards his people i the same evil he casta 
^in into DOW, he exalts ihem into tbe contrary good in his time. 
, Am the Lord bath a purpose lo make Joseph ruler over alt 


Egypt, but first he maketh him a slave, God Iiad a meai 
make Christ Judge of men, thererore first be sufiVrs him lo be 

S judged of men. 
y Qaeit. But when shall Ihia judgment duy be ? 

^ Ani. Though ive can not tell the day and hour partieularly, yet 
this we are sure of, that wlien nil the elect are called, for wIiosb 
sake ibe world BtaiiUs, (Is. i. 9,) when these pillars are taken 
away^^^en woe~t5~Ihe world; as wht^n Lot was taken out of 
Sodom, then Soilom was burnt. Now. it ie not probable that this 
time will come aa yet ; for first Antichrist mn-tt be consumed, aniJ 
tkot only the scattered visible Jews, but the whole body of the 
Israelites, must first be called, and have a glorious church upon 
earth. (Ezek. xKxvii.) This glorious ehorcb Scripture and reason 
will enforce, which when it ib called ehall not be expired as soon 
as it is born, bat shall continue many a year. 
^ Qutil. But how shall ibis judgment be ? 

Am. The aposUe describes it. (1 Thess. iv. 16, 17.) 

1. Christ shall break out of the third heaven, and be seen in 
the air, before any dead arise ; and this shall be with an admira- 
ble shout, as when a king cometb to triumph among bb subjects, 
and over his enemies. 

2. Then shall the voice of the archangel be heard. Now, 
this archangel is Jesus Christ himself, as the Scripture expounds, 
being in the clouds of heaven ; he shall, with an audible, heaven- 
shaking shoot, say, '' Rise, ^ou dead, and come to judgment ! " 
even as he called to Laz.arus, " Lazarus, arise ! " 

8. Then the trump shall blow ; and even as at the giving of 

:^ the law (Ex. x'lx.) it is said the trumpet i^ounded, much more 

' louder shall it now sound, when be comes to judge men that hav« 

broken the law. 

4. Then shall the dead arise. The bodies of them that hav8' 
, died in the Lord shall rise firet ; then the others that live sba& 

(like Enoch) be traiifilab:d.anilchMged. (1 Cor. xv.) 

5. When thus the judgTanff justices arc upon their bench a^ 
Christ's right hand, on their thrones, tbea shall the guilty pria* 
oners be brought forth, and come out of their {graves, like tilthj 
toads, BgRJnst this terrible storm. Then shall nil the wicked, thw^ 
ever were or ever shall be, stand quaking before this gk^riotHt 
Judge, with the same bodies, feet, hajids, to receive their dooto- 

0, consider of this day, tlidu that livest in thy sins now, an^ 
\ yet art sale ; there is a day coming wherein thou nuiyest 

ahalt be judged. ^^ 

1, Consider ib/io shall be thy Judge. Why, mercy, pity, goo4< 
aesB itself, even Jesus Christ, that many lime* held 


bowelfl of compassion towftrd thee. A eliild of God m&y mj, 
Tonder is my brother, friend, husband ; but tliou mayeat say, 
Yonder is mine enemy. He may say at that day, Yonder is ho 
thu shed his blood to fiave me ; thou mayest say. Yonder he 
eoraes whoK heiirt I have pierced with my stn^, whose blood I 
bsve despised. Tliey may gay, " 0. come, Lord Jesus, and cover 
me under ihy wingd." But thou shnlt then cry out, " O rocks, 
fall upon me, and hide me from the face of the Larab." 

2. Consider the manner of hia coming, (i Thess. i. 7.) 
■hall come in fluraing fire — the heavens shall be on a flami 
the elements shall melt like scalding lead upon ihee. When a 
house is on fire at midnight in a town, irhat a fearful cry is 
there made ! When all the world shall cry, Fire I fire ! and ran 
op and down for shelter lo hide themselves, but can not find it, 
bat tay, O, now the gloomy day of blood and fire is come ; 
here's for my pride, here's for my OBlhs, and the wages for my 
drunkenness, security, and neglect of duties. 

3. lu regard of the heavy Accusations that shall come against 
the« at thai day. There is never a wicked man almost in ihi 
world, as fair a face as he carries, but he haih, at some time o 
other, committed some such secret villikiny, that he would be > 
ready to hang himself for shSffie^iT "others did know of it;,aa 
•ecret whoredom, self- pollution, speculative wantonness, men 
with men, women with women, aa the apostle speaks. (Bom. i.) 
At this day all the world shall see and hear these p rivy pranks, 
then the books shall be opened. Men will not ta£eup aToul 
business, nor end it in private ; therefore there shall be a day of 
public hearing ; things shall not be suddenly shuffied up, as ear- 
«al tbougtkts imagine, viz., that at this day. first Christ shall 
nise the dead, and then the separation shall be made, and then 
the sentence passed, and then suddenly the judgment day is done. 
No. no; it mast luke up some large quantity of time, that all the 
world may see the secret sins of wicked men in the world ; and 
therefore it may be made evident from all Scripture and reason, 
that this day of Christ's kingly office in judging the world will 
toil happily longer than his private administration now (wherein 
be ii len glorious) in governing the world. Tremble, thou time 

jBTjei" ; tremble, ihou hypocrite ; tremble, thou that livest in any 
•ecret sin under the al|.«eeing eye of this Judge ; thine own con- 
•cience indeed shall be a sufficient witness against thee, to dis* 
Govur all thy sins al thy particular judgment ; but sll the world 
■hall openly see thine hidden, close counei of darkneu, to thiii« 
#Terlaiting shame at thii day. 

i. In ngfid of th« f«vful •saUnc* that tb«n shall b« poMod 



, upon thee : " Depart, thou i^ursed creoliire, into everlasling fir^ 
prepared for the devil and his aogele." Thou shall then ctj 
out, '■ O, merry. Lord ! O, a lillie mercj ! " ^ No," will the 
Lord Jeaiia say, "I did indeed once offer il you, but you refused; 
therefore depart." Then thou ehalt plend Sfcain, " Lord, it I 
must depart, yet blew me before I go." " No, no ; depart, thou 
cursed," " 0, hat, Lord, if I must depart cursed, lei me go into 
some good place." "No; depart, ihoucureed, into hell fire," "O 
Lord, that's a torment I can not hear ; but if it moat be so. Lord, 
let me come out again quickly." '' No ; depart, thou cursed, 
into everlasting fire." "O Lord, if this be thy pleosure, that 
here I must abide, let me have good company with me." " No ; 
depart, thou cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil 
and hie angels." This shall be thy sentence ; the hearing of 
which may make the rock^ to rent ; so that, go on in thy sin and 
prosper, despise and acolf at God's ministers and prosper, abhor 
the power and practice of religion, as a too precise course, and 
I prosper ; yet know it. there will a day come when thou shalt meet 
' I with a dreadful Judge, a doleful sentence. Non is thy day of 
J sinning ; but God will have shortly hia day of condemning. 

5. When the judgment day is done, then the fearful wrath of 
Gtiil shall be poured out. and piled upon their bodies and souls, 
and the breath of the liord, like a stream of brimstone, shall 
kindle it, and here thou shalt lie burning, and none shall ever 
quench it. This is the execution of a sinner after Judgment. 
(Rev. xxi. 8.) 
Now, this wrath of God consists in these things : — 
1. Thy soul sball he banished from the face and blessed sweet 
presence of God and Christ, and thou shall never see the face 
of God more. It is said (Acta xx.) that "they wept sore, bo- 
cause they sliould see Paul's face no more." 0. thou shalt 
never see the fnoc of God, Christ, yninl?, and angels more. 0, 
heavy doom, lo famish and pine away forever without one bit 
of bread to comfort thee, one smile of God to refresh ibee! 
Hen that have their sores running upon them must be shut up 
from the presence of men sound and whole. O, thy sins, like 
plague sores, run on thee ; therefore thou must be shut out like a 
dog from the presence of God and all his people. (2 Thess. i. 9.) 
J 2. God shall si^t him-elf like a consuming infinite fire against 
V thee, and tread ihee under his feel, who hasi by sin trod bim and 
his glory undtfr foot all ihy life. A man may devise esquisils 
torments for another, and great power may make a little stirk to ' 
hiy on. heavy strokes ; hut greal power stirred up to strike from 
great fury and wrath makes th« itroke deadly. I tell thee, all 

(Rom. / 


the wiadom of God bIibII ihun be set against tliee to devise tor- ■ 
menis for thee. (Micab ii. 4.) There was never such wrath felt 
or conceived as the Lord hath devised against iheo that lirest 
and dieat in thy natural estate; hence it is called "wrath to come." I 
(1 Thess. i. ult.) The torment which wisdom shall devise the 
almighty power of God shall inflict upon ihee, so as there vaa 
never such power eoen in making the world as in holding a poor 
trreature under tins wrath, that holds up the soul in being with 
one hand, and beats it with the other, ever burning like hre 
against a creature, and jet that creature never burnt up. (Itom. 
ii. 22.) Thinknoljhw cruelty : it is justjce. What cares C ' 
for a vile wretch, whom" noiBifig' can malte good while it lives? 
If we have been long in hewing a block, and we can make no ! 
meet vessel of it. put it to no good use for ourselves, we cast it ' ^^ 
inln the fire. God heweth thee by sermons, sickness, losses, au^i^ 
crosses, sudden death, mercies, and miseries ; yet nothing makes 
thee better. What should God do with ihec but cast thee 
hence? O, consider of this wrath before you feel it, I'haif^^ 
rather have all the worhl burning about my ears than to have 
one bloating frown from the blessed fuce of an intinite and 
dreadful God. Thou canst not endure the torments of a little 
kitchen flre on the tip of thy finger, not one half hour together. 
How wilt thou bear the fury of this infinite, endless, consuming 
fire in body and soul throughout all eternity ? 

3. The never-dying worm of a guilty co nscigtipe shall torment 
ihee, as if thou hadst swallowed down a living poisonful snakci \ 
which shall lie gnawing and biting thine heart for sin pa^t, day 
Knd night. And this worm shall torment by showing the cause 
of thy misery ; that isrthaf thou didst never care lor Him that 
would have saved ihee; by showing thee also tliy sins against 
the law, by showing thee thy sloth, whereby thy happiness ia 
lost. Then slmll thy conscience gnaw to think. 8o many nighii 
I went to bed without prayer, and so many days and hours I 
spent in feasting and foolish sporting. O, if I had spent half 
timt time, now misspent, in praying, in mourning, in meditation, 
yonder in heaven had 1 been. By showing thee also the mean* 
that tliou onee hail^t to avoid MiIm nii^ry. Such a minister . 
I heard once, that told me of my particular sins, as if be had 
been told of me ; such a. friend persuaded me once to turn over 
a new leaf; I remember so many knocks God gave at thin iron 
heart of mine, so many mercies the l»rd sent ; but, O. no 
tneaua could prevail with me. Lastly, by showing thee how 
easily thou mightest have avoided all these niitieries. O, on 
I wu almoat persuaded to be a Christian ; bat I suffecoi v 

44 Tire EiNCF.Bi: convert. 

heart to grow dead, and fell to loose coiupnny, and »o lost alL 
Tlie Lord Jeans cune unto my door and knocked ; and, if I had 
done that for Christ wliii'h I did for the devil many a lime lo 
open at bis knookn, I bad been saved. A ihousaod such bites 
will this worm give at thine heart, which shall make thee cry 
out, O, time, time ! 0, sermons sermons ! 0, niy hopes aDd 
my helps are now lost that once I had to save my lost soul ! 

i. Thou shall take up thy *"ric'"F ^"'PYf ^"^ if,"'}"! and 
they shall be thy companions, llim thou hast served here, with 
him must lliou dwell there. It scares men out of ihcir wits 
almost to sec tlie devil, as ihey think, when ibey be alone ; but 
what horror shall fill thy soul when thou shalt be banished from 
angels' society, and come into the fellowship of devils forever ! 

A 5. Thou shall be 61led with final despa ir. If a man be griev- 
ously sieb, it comforts him to think it will not last long. But if 
* the physician tell him he must live all his lifethne in this ex- 
tremity, he thinks the poorest beggar in a better estate thaa 
bimseir. 0, to think, when thou hast been millions of years in 
thy sorrows, then thou art no nearer thy end of bearing ihy 
misery than at the first coming in ! O, I might once have had 
mercy and Christ, but no hope now ever to have one glimpse of 
his face, or one good look from liim any more. 
^ C. Thou shatt vomit out blasphemous oaths and curses in the 
face of God the Father forever, and curse God that never 
elected thee, and curse the Lord Jesus that never shed one drop 
of blood to redeem thee, and curse God the Holy Ghost that 
passed by thee and never called thee. (Kev. xvi. 9.) And here 
thou shall lie, and weep, and gnaah Ihy teeth in spile against 
God and thyself, and roar, and Blamp, and grow mad. ihat there 
tjuut must lie under the curse of God forever. Thus, I say, 
[thou shalt lie blaspheming, with God's wrath hke a pile of lire 
on thy soul burning, and floods, nay, seas, nay, more, seas of 
tears, (for thou shatt forever lie Keeping,) shall never quench IL 
And here, which way soever iliou lookest, thou shnlt see matter 
of everlasting grief. Look up to heaven, and there ihon shalt 
see (O!) that God is forever gone. Look about thee, thou shalt 
see devils quaking, cursing God, and thousands, nay, millions, of 
sinful, damned creatures crying and roaring out with doleful 
■hriekings, O, the day that ever I was bom ! Look within 
thee ; there is a guilty conscience gnawing. Look to lime past ; 
0, those giddeu days of grace and sweet seasons of mercy are 
quite lost and gone 1 Look to time to oome ; there thou shalt 
behold evils, iroopa and ewarms of sorrows, and woes, and 
r^iug wavM, and billowi of wrath come rooriag upoo ihea. 


Look to time present ; O, not one hour or moment of ease or 
refrcsliing, but all curses meet together, and feeding upon one 
poor loHt ioimorlal bouI that never con be recovfred again I No 
God, no Christ, no Spirit to comfort thee, no minister to preach |, 
unto thee, no friend to wipe away thj continual tear^ no eun to 
shine upon thee, not a bit of bread, not one drop of water to 
cool thy tongue. 

TliJB is ibe misery of every natural man. Now, do not thou 
sliift it from thyself, and say, God is merciful. True, but it is 'U 
to rery few, a s shall be proved. It is a thousand to one if ever 
thoii be one of that Bmall number whom God bath picked out to 
escape this wrath lo come. If thou dost not get the Lord Jesua 
to bear (his wrath, farewell God, Christ, and God's mercy tbi^ 
ever. If Chriat bad shed seas of blood, set thine heart at rest; 
there is not one drop of it for thee, until thou comest to see, and 
fie«l, and groan under this miserable estate. 1 tell thee, Christ 
is »o for from saving thee, that he is thine enemy. If Christ 
were here, and should say, Here is roy blood for thee, if ihou wilt 
but lie down and mourn under tJie burden of thj misery, and yet 
for all his speeches, thj dry eyes weep not, thy stout heart yields 
not, thy hard heart mourns not, as to say, O, I am a sinful, lost, 
condemned, cursed, dead creature ; what shall I do ? dost not 
ibinlc but he would turn away his face fn»a thee, and say, 0, 
thou stony, hard-hearted crealure,woulde3t thou have me save tbe« 
from thy misery, and yet thou wilt not groan, sigh, and mourn 
for deliverance to me, out of thy misery ? If thou liliest thine 
e^jlaie so well, and prizest me so little, perish ia thy misery 

O, labor \o be Immhled day and night under this tliy woful 
estate. T''"" irf ff^y-r* A.Um'j gricvmiii sin : will this break 
thitie heart ? No.~TFimi 3Tt deafl In pin, luij fop-full of all sin ; 
will this hrt?ali Ihine heart? No. Whatsuevcr thou doest, bast 
done, shalt do, remaining in this eslnte, is sin : will this break 
thine heart? No. God is thino enemy, and thou hast lost him : 
will this break thine heart? No. Thou art condemned to die 
eternally ; &iian is Ihy jailer ; ttiou art boutid hand and foot 'm 
the bolts of thy sius, and cost into niter darkness, and ready 
every utomont to drop into hell : will this break thine heart ? No- 
Thou must die, and after that appear before ihe Lord lo judgment, 
apd then bear Gud's everlasting, iusupporinbic wrath, which rend* 
ik* rocks, and burns down to the boiiom of hell. Will ibis break 
thine hard heart, man? No, Then farewell Christ forever 
•^fieverlook to see a Clirisi, until thou dost come Lu IW lh> mi 
ooi oTChiiSC'XalKir therefore fur this, and tlie Lord will Kveal 





the brazen serpent, whcD tbou art in thine own sense and feeling, 
Btung to demh nith the fiery aerpenUi. 

So I coue to open tbe fourth principal point. 


" In whom we liavc redemption through his blood," (£pb. L 
7,) which plainly demonstrates ihat 

A " JesuB Christ is the only meAns of man's redemption and 
deliverance out of hb bondage and miserable estate." 

And this is the doctrine I shall now insist upon. 

When the Israelites were in bondage and misery, he sends 
Moses to deliver ihem. When they were in Babylon, he stirred 
up Cyrus to open the prison galea to them ; but when all man- 
kind is under sjirituaJ mis ery, he sends the Lord Jesus, God and 
man, toredeein him. (Acts iv. 12.) 

Queilion. How doth Christ redeem men out of this misery? 

Anmctr. By payinea price forjhem. (1 Cor. vi. ult) God's 
mercy will be mBnflested in saving some, and his justice must be 
satisfied by having satisfaction or price made and paid for man'i 
sin. Hence Christ satisfielh God's justice, — 

FirsL By standing in the room of all them whom mercf 
decreeth to save. A surely standeth in the room of a debtor. 
(Heb. rii. 22.) As tbe first Adam stood in the room of all 
mankind fallen, so Christ siandetl) in the room of all men rising, 
or lo be reiitored again. 

Secondly. By taking from them in whose room be stood the 
eternal guilt of all their sins, and by assuming ihe guilt of all 
those sins udIo himself. (2 Cor. v. 22.) Hence Luther said 
Christ waa the greatest sinner by imputati on.. 

Thirdly. By bearing tlie curse and wfSOi of God kindled 

against sin. God is holy, and when he seeih sin sticking only 

I by imputation to his own Son, he will not spare him, but bia 

I wrath and curse must he bear. (Gal. iii. 13.) Christ drinks up 

J the cup of all the elect at one draught, which they should have 

,been sipping and drinking, and tormented with, millions of years. 

J Fourthly. By bringing into the presence of God perfect 
righteousness, (Rom. v. 21 ;) for this also God's justice required 
( perfection, conftrmSly lo the law, as well aa (peri'ect satisfactioa) 
tufferuig for the wrong otTered to tbe Lawgiver. Justice thiu 




I xvquiring (hose four things, ChrUt suliaBes justice by performing 
hein, and so pays the price. 

1. Christ is a Redeemer by strong hanil. The first redemption 
Vj price IB finished in Christ's penutn. at his resurrection ; tlie 
Mcond is begun by the Spirit in uutn's vocation, and ended at the 
day of Judgment i aa money id first paid for a captive in Turkey, 
and then beesuae he can not come to bis own priuce himself, he 
u fetched away by strong hand. 

Here' is encouragement to the vilest sinner, and comfort to the 
Hlf-9uccorles9 and lost •sinner, who have spent atl their money, 
^ir lime, and endeavors upon tho:K duties and strivings thnt 
have been but poor physicians to them. 0, look up here to the 
Xiord Jesns, who can do that cure for thee in a moment which all 
creatures can not do in many years. What bolts, what strong 
fctiers, what unruly lusts, temptations, and miseries art thou 

' locked into? Behold, the Deliverer is come out of Sion, having 
Mtiafled justice, and paid a price lo ransom poor captives, (Luke 
It. is ;) with the keys of heaven, bell, and thy uuruty heart in 
hU hand, to fetch thee out with great mercy and strong hand. 

' Who knows but thou poor prisoner of hell, thou poor captive of 
the devil, thou [loor shackled sinner, mayest be cue whom be is 
come for ? 0, look up lo him, sigh to heaven for deliverance 
from biin, and be glad and rejoice at his coming 1 

This strike* terror lo them, that though there is a means of 
deliverance, yet they lie in iheir misery, never groan, never sigh 
to the Lord Jesus for deliverance ; nay, that rejoice in their bond- 
age, and dance to hell in ihcir boltd ; nay,ihAt are weary of deliver- 
ance : that ail in the stocks when iJiey are al prayers ; that oamm 
out of the church, when the tedious sermon runs somewhat beyond 
the hour, like prisoners out of a jail, that despise the Lord Jesus, 
when he offers to open the doora, and so let tbem out of that 
mi(ierahli' ealale. 0, poor creatures ! is there a means of deliver- 
Micu, and dost thou neglect, nay, despise it ? Know it, that thia 
will cut thine heart one day, when thou art hanging in ihy gibbeU 
in bell, to see others standing at God's right band, redeemed by 
Cbri«t; ibou mightest have bad share in their honor; for there 
was a Deliverer come to save thee, but thou wouldest have none 
of him. O, thou wilt lie yelling in those everlasting burnings, 
and tear thy hair, and curse thyself: From hence might I have 
heen delivrrcd, but I would not. Hath Christ delivered thee 
from hell, and hath he not delivered thee from thine alehouse ? 
I iatii Chri*l delivered thee from Satan's society, when he hatli not 
delivered thee from thy Ioimh company yet ? Hath Christ delivered 
tJie« from burning, when thy fagots, thy sins, grow in thee ? la 
Chritt'a blood thine, that makest no more account of it, nor 



. feelest no more virtu? from it, than in the blood of a chii^ken? 
Art thou redeemed ? Dost ihou hope bj Christ to be saved, that 

- didst never ecc, nor feel, nor sigh under thy bondage ? 0, the 
devils will keep holiday (m it were) in hell, in respect of thee, 
who shflJl mourn under God's wrath, and lament. O, there was 
a meana to deliver ma out of il, but thou shall mourn forever for 
tbj misery. And thie will be a bodkin at thine heart one day, 
to think there was a Deliverer, but I, wretch, would none of him. 
Here, likewise, is matter of reproof to such as seek to come out 
of tbi^I misery from and by lhem.^e!vea. If they be ignorani, 
they hope to be ^iivcU by their good meaning and prayers. If 
civil, by paying all they owe, and doing as Ibey would be done 
by, and by doing nobody any harm. If they he troubled about 
their estates, then they lick themselves whole by their monmiitg, 
repenting, and reforming. 0, poor stubble, canst tliou stand 
before this consuming lire without sin? Canst ihou make thy- 
self a Christ for thyself ? Canst thou bear and come from under 

- an infinite wrath ? Canst Ihofl bring in perfect righteousness into 
the presence of God ? This Clmst must do. else he could not 
eaiisfy and redeem. And if thou canst not do thus, and liost no 
Christ, desire and pray that heaven and earth shake till thod 
hast worn thy tongue to the etumpe ; endeavor os much as thou 
canst, and others commend thee fur a diligent Christian ; mourn 
in some wilderness till doomsday ; dig thy grave there with ihy 
nails ; weep buckets full of hourly teara, till thou canst weep no 
more; fast and pray till thy skin nod bones cleave togetber; 
promise and purpose with full resolution to be better; nay, 
reform thy bead, heart, life, and tongue, and some, nay, all sius ; 
live like an angel ; shine like a sun ; walk up and down the world 
like a distressed pilgrim going to another country, so that all 
Christians commend and admire thee ; die ten thousand deaths; . 
lie at the fireback in hell so many millions of years as there be 
piles of grass on the earth, or sitnds upon the sea shore, or stars 
in heaven, or moles in the sun ; I tell lh<^e, not one spark of 
God's wrath against thy sin shall be, can be, qiiencbed by all 
these duties, nor by any of these sorrows, or tears ) for these arc 
not the bk)od of Christ. Nay, if all the angels and saints in 
heaven and earth should pray for thee, these can not duliver tliec, 
for they are not the blood of ChrisL Nay, God, as a Creator, 
having mode a law, will nut forgive one sin without the blood of 
Christ; nay, Christ's blood will not do il neither, il thou dost 
join never so little that thou hast or dost unio Jesus Christ, and 
makesl thyself or any of thy duties copartners with Christ in 
thai great work of saving thee. Cry out, therefore, as that 
blessed martyr did, None but Christ, jione but Christ. 


Take heed of neglecling or rejeclini^ so great salvation by- 

Jesus Chrii 

Take heed of spilling this potio 


rare (bee. 

But thou wilt snj, This means of redemption is onlj appointed 
for some : it is not intended fur all, therefore not fur me ; tlierc' 
fore bow can I rvject Christ ? 

It is true, Christ apent_nijtjiia br enlh t o ^r^ti fojc_aU ; (John 
»»ii. 9.) '• I pray for them ; I pray not' tor iTie world, hut for them 
which thou hast given me, for they are thine ;" miieh less hia 
blood for all ; therefore he was never intended as a Redeemer 
«f all ; but that be is not intended as a Deliverer of thee, how 
• dWh this follow? How dost thou know this? 

But secondly, I say, though Christ be not intended for all, 
yet h e ia offe red onto all, a«d therefore uolo iliee; and tbo 

The universal offer of Christ ariseth not from Christ's priestly 
tf ce immediately, but from his kindly otlicc. whereby the Father 
having given him all power and dominion in heaven and earth, 
he hereupon commands all men to stoop unto him, and likewise 
' 'ds all his disciple*, and all their successor*, to go and preach 

e gospel to every creature under heaven. (Matt, xxviii. 18, 19.} 

or Christ doth not immediately offer himself to all men as a ' 
Savbor, whereby they may be encouraged to serve him as a 
king ; but first as a king commanding them to cnst away their 
Weapons, and stoop unto his scepter, and depend upon his free 
Biercy, acknowledging, if ever he save me, I will bless him: if 
he damn me, his name is righteous in so dealing with me. \^ 

But that I may fasten this exhortation, I will show these foor 

I. The Lord JesQS is offered to every particular j)erson ; 
, which I shall show thus : What hast thou to say against it, that 
thou dost doubl of it? It may be thou wilt plead. — 

O, 1 am so ignorant of myself, God, Christ, or his will, that 
purely the Lord offers no Christ to me. 

Yes, but he doth, though ihou best in utter darkness. Our 
. Messed Sariour glorified his Father for revealing the mystery of 
Ibe gMpel to simple men, neglecting those that carried the chief 
Kpntaiion of wisdom in the world. The parts of none are to 
; low oa that they are bencAth the gracious regard of Christ. God 
heeloweU) the best fruits of his love upon mean and weak per- 
sons here, that he migltt confound the pride of flesh the more. 
Where it pleascth him to make bis choiw.-. and to exalt his mer- 
cy, he poBseih by no degree of wit, though never so uncnpable. 

But tliou wilt say, 1 am nn mviaj to God, and have a heart 

TOl,. L 


SO stubborn and loih to yield, I have vexed him to the verj 
heart by ray transgressions. 

Yet he beiieecheth ihee to be reconciled. Put case, thou hast 
been a sinner, and rebellions against God ; yet bo long as thou 
ut not found amongst malicious opposerii, and underminers of 
his truth, never give way to despairing thoughts; thou hast a 


JeSpised the n 

8 of reconciliation, and rejected 

); "thou hast plnjed the harlot with 
noBoy lovers ; yet lum again to me, saiih the Lord." (Jer. iii. 1.) 
Cast thyself into the arms of Christ, aud if ihou perish, perish 
there ; if thou dost not, ihou art sure to perish. If merry be to 
be had any where, it is by seeking to Christ, not by turning from 
him. Herein appears Christ's love to thee, that he hath given 
thee a heart in some defp^p "fipt'l'lp ; he might have given thee 
up to bftrdness, security, and profaneness — of all spiritual judg- 
ments the grcRtesl. But he that died for his enemies will in no 
wise refuse those the desire of whose soul is toward him. 
When the prodigal set himself to return to his father, his father 
stays not for him, but meets him in the way. If our sins dis- 
please us, they shall never hurt us ; but we sliall be esteemed of 
God to be that which we desire and labor to be. (Ps. cxlv. 19.) 

But can the Lord offer Christ to me, so poor, that have no 
strength, no fnith, no grace, nor sense of mj poverty ? 

Yes, even to thee; why should we except ourselves, when 
Christ doth not except us ? " Come unto me, all ye that are 
weary and heavy laden." We are therefore poor, because we 
know not our riches. We can never be in such a condition 
wherein there will bo just cause of utter despair. He that sits 
in darkness, and seeth no light, no light of ,comfort, no light of 
God's countenance, yet let him trust in the name of the Lord. 
Weaknesses do not debiir ua from mercy ; nay, they incline God 
Ike more. The husband is bound to bear with the wife, as being 
the weaker vessel; and shall we think God will exempt himself 
from his own rule, and nut bear with his weak spouse? 

But is this offer made to roe, that can not love, prize, nor desire 
the Lord Jesus ? _ 

Yes; to ihee. i Christ knows how to pity us in this case. We 
are weak, but we^Rre his. A father looks not so much at the 
blemishes of his child as at his own nnture in him ; so Christ 
finds matter of love from any tiling of his own in us. A Chris- 
tian's carriage toward Christ may in many things be very 
offensive, and cause much straiigeness ; yet, so long as L9 ' 


■ TewlTe* not npon any knc 

n evil, Christ will t 

tod he 

O, but I have fuUen from God oft, since he hath eolightened 
mc-;-Htnd doth he tender Christ to me ? 

rXhou must know that Christ haih married erery believing 
tOtA to himself, and that, where the work of grace ia begun, sin 1 
toses strength by every new fall. If there be a spring of Bin in 
thee, there ia a spring of mercy in God, and a fountain daily 
opened to wash thy uncleannesa in. Adam (indeed) lost all by I 
once einniiig ; hut we are under a belter covenant, — a . covenant 1 
e£ ipercy. — and are encouragedbyjhe Son to go to the Father | 
I erery day for the sins of that^^Tj ' 

L If I was willing to receive CGriBCl might have Christ offered 
to me ; but will the Lord offer him to aueb a one as deaires not 
to have Christ ? 

^ Y^ ; saith our Saviour, " I would have gathered you as the 
Hn gathereth her chickens under her wings, and you would 
boL" We must know a creating power can not only bring 
•omeibing oni of nothing, but contrary out of contrary ; of un- 
willing, God can make us a willing people. There is a promise 
id pouring dean water upon us, and Christ hat^L-t^ken upon him 
to purge his spouse, and make her fit for MtiSelf. ' 

What bast thou now to plead against this ^Iftnge kindnega 
of the Lord in offering Christ to thee? Thou wilt say, it 

0, I fear time is past I O, time is piast I I might onc« have 
had Chriit, but now mine heart is sealed down with hardnoM, 
blindness, unbelief. 0. time is now gone I 

No; not so. See Isaiah Ixv. 1-3: "All the day long God 
Iwhleth out his hands to a backsliding and rebellious people." 
Thy day of grace, thy day of means, thy day of life, thy day of 
God's striving with tbee and stirring of thee, still lasts. 

It if God be so willing to save, and so prodigal of his Christ, 
why doth he not give me Christ, or draw me to Christ ? 

I answer. What command dost thou look for lo draw thee (o 
|| .Christ but this word, Ctrmt ' O, come, thou poor, forlorn, lost, 
Mind, cursed nothing ; I will eave ihee ; I will enrich tbee ; 
I will forgive thee ; I will enlighten thee ; I wilt bless thee i I 
will be all things unto thee, do all things for thee. May not 
Ibis win and melt the heart of a devil ? 

II. Upon what condition may Christ be had F 

Make an exchange of what thou art or hast with Christ for 
^Wfau Christ is or hath ; and so taking him, (like ihe wise mer- 
it ibe p«ul,) ibou slialt have salvation witii htm. 


Now, this exchange lieth in these four things chiefly :- 

Firal. Give away thyself l o him, head, heiirt, tongue, body, 
Boul. and he will give away hiaigelf unto thee, (Cant. vi. 3 ;) yea, 
he will stand in ihy room in heaven, that thon mayesl triumph 
nod Bay, I am already in heaven, gloriHed in faim ; I see Giod's 
blessed face ia Christ ; I have conquered death, hell, and ihe 
devil in him. 

Secondly. Give away alj thy aina to Christ, confess them, leave 
tfaem, cast them upon the Lord Jesus, «o B3 to receive power 
from him to fOrsnke thcro, and he will be made sin for thee to 
take them away from thee. (1 John i. 9.) 

Thirdly. Give away liiinp [lienor, y lp.naiirp | p mfit, Uff j for bim j 
ke will give away his crown and honor, life and tdl, to ibee. 
(Luke xviii.) I^t nothing be sweet unto thee but him, and 
nothing shall be sweet unto him but ihee. 

Fourthly. Give away thy r^s, forsake thine own riglileous- 
ness, for him ; he will give away all his robes and righleoDBness 
to thee. (Phil. iii. 8, St.) Tfaousshalt stand as glorious in the 
sight of God, howsoever thou art" a poor snake in thyself, aa an 
angel, nay, as all the angels, because cIotbetPwKE^is Son Christ 
JeBuB hia righteousness. 

Now, tell me, will yon have Christ? Me is offered lo yon. 
Tea, you will all say ; yea, witb all mine heart. But will you 
havs him upon these terms, upon thei^e four conditions ? 

No w, beeuuse men will flatter themselves, and say. Yes, — 
1 iil. I will show you four sorts of people that reject Christ 
Uhus offered. 

First The slighting unbeliever, that, when he hears of an 
offer of Christ, and should wonder at the love of the Lord in 
doing this, he makes nothing of It, but goes from the church, and 
says, We must give ministers ihe wall in the pulpit, and, poor 
men, they must have somewhat to say and preach for their 
living i there was a good plain sermon to-day ; the man seems 
to mean well, but 1 think he be no great scholar; and so makes 
no more of the offer of Christ than of the offer of a straw at 
their feet. If a good bargain be offered them, ihey will forget 
ail their business to accomplish ihat ; yet they make light of this 
otfer. (Malt. xxii. 5.) 

'Secondly. The dtispeiate uubaltover, that, seeing his sins to 
be so great, and feeling bis heart so hard, and finding but little 
good from God, since he sought for help, like Cain fleelh from 
the presence of the Lord ; like a mad lion he breaks his chain 

^ of restraining grace, and runneth roaring af^er his prey, afler 
\ his 

B cups, queans, lusts, etc., and so will not hooor Cbrist i 



inicb » great core of such great sina, ihat he shall never have 
the credit of it, nor will be beholding lo him for such a kindness. 
Thirdly.' The presumpiuousjMibelLever^lhst, seeing what sins 
he hath cominiiied, and^ itTmaj be, having a little touch and ' 
some •wrrow fur his sins, caCeheth at Chriar, hoping lo be eaved 
by him before ever he come to be looden wicb sin as the greatest 
evil, or God's wralli kindled against him as hig greatest curae, 
and M. catching at Christ, hopes he batli Christ, and, hoping he* 
halb Chriat already, shuts out Chridt for the future, and eo 
rejects him. (Micah iii. II.) You shall have these men and 
women complain never of the want, but only of the weakness, 
of their faith, and Ihey will not be beaten off from thence ; let 
them hear never so much of their misery, nor see never so much 
of their sin, yet they will not be beaten off* from trusting to 

■ Fourthly. The loKering. doubtful unbeliever; one that is in a 
question whether be had best have Cbrist or no. lie sees some 
good in Christ that he would gladly have him for, as, Then I 
■hall have heaven, and pardon, and grace, and peace ; and yet 
he sees many things he dislikes with Christ, as, namely, Then 
farewell merry meetings, pastimes, cards and dice, pleasure and 
■inful games ; and hunce they lotler ibis way and Ihat way, not 
knowing whether they had best haveCbrist or no. (James i. 6, 7.) 
These people reject Jesus Christ. -^ 

IV. And now come and see the greatness of this sin. 

1. It is a most bloody sin ; it is a tramphng underfoot the blood 
of the Son of God. X»eb. i. 21.) 

2. It is a most dishonoring sin ; for as by the first act of faith 

■ man gbriSeih God by obeying all the law at an instant in 
Chriat, so by rejecting hi[u thou dost break all those laws of 
God in an instant, and so dost dishonor him. 

3. It is a most ungrateful sin ; it is despising God's greatest 
lore, which the Lord takes most Ticavily. 

4. It is B most inexcusa ble sjn ; for what have you to cast 
■gainst Jesus ChrisT7~~Orniy sms are »o gr^at, thou wilt say. 
But take Christ, his blood will waah thee from all thy sins. 

O, bat my heart is bard, and my mind blind. 
Yea, but lake me, and 1 will break thiue heart, open thine eyea. 
A new haart is God's gift, and he hath promised to create it ^ 

O, but then I must forsake all my pleasures. 
Thou shall have them I'uUy, coaiinually, intinilely in Christ. 
0, but I can not take Christ. 

O, but Chriat can give thee a hand lo ivotir* him, u wall h 
(iv« away himseU'. 




5, It IB a most lieatTgin- "Wliat sin will gripe so in hell u I 
this? (John ili. 19.) God the Father shall strike the devils fo* j 
breiikiug the law of the creation ; but God the Son shall stHka J 
thee, and the Comfurter hiinBelf shall set himself againxt the«^, for 1 
despising the means and ol&rs of rgdulOrtioii- The devils might 
never have had mercy, but ihou sHalt think with anguish, and vexa- 
tion, and madness of heart, I might have had a Christ; be was 
oifered unto me. Mcrty wooed this stubborn, proud heart to 
yield. liat, O, rock of adamant that I was ! it did not atTect me. 
0, fly speedily to this city of refuge, lest the pursuer of blood 
overtake thee. 

Away, then, out of yourselves, [ftlbe Lord Jesus. Heaven and 
earth leave thee, and have forsaken thee : now, there is but on* 
more tliat can do thee good, and deliver thy soul from endlesa 
sorrow : go to him, and take hold on him, not with the hand of 
presumption and love to thyself, to save thyself, but with the hand 
of faith, and love to him, to honor him. 

I am well enough already : what tell you me of Christ ? 

Uhis is the damning sin of these times : when men have Christ 
ed unto them, foretelling them else of wrath to corae, they 
say they are well ; hence, feeling no judgment here, they fear no 
wrath hereafter ; hence, being well, they feel no Deed of Christ ; 
hence, till ihey die, they never seek out for a Saviour. Men will 
not come into the ark already made for them before the flood 
arise. The world makes so mu«h of those it nurseth up. that they 
are unwilling to come to heaven, when they are called to come 

15ul it may be Christ hath not redeemed me, nor shed his blood 
for me ; therefore why should I go to him ? J 

It may be, it is true j may be not i yet do thou venture, as thosa, H 
(Joel ii.,) "Who knows but the Lord may return?" Itistrue, Go4 H 
hath elected but few, and so the Son hatii shed his blood, and died * 
but fur a few ; yet this is no excuse for thee to lie down and 
say, Wliat should I seek out of myself for succor? Thou must 
in this case venture and try, as many men amongst us do now, 
I who, hear in If of one good livitig fallen, twenty of them will go « 
1 and seek for it, although Ihey know only one shall have it. There* ^M 
fore say as those lepers in Samaria, If I stay here in my sins, IS 
die ! if I go out to the camp of the Syrians, we may live ; we caa ^ 
but die, however ; if I go out to Clirist, I may get mercy ; how- 
ever, I can hut die, and it is belter to die at Clirist'a feet than in 
thine own puddle. Content not yourselves therefore with your 
bare reformation, and amending your lives; this is but to crosi 
(he debt in thine own book ; it remainelh uncancelled in the I 
creditor's book still : but go, tske, ofler up this eternal tacrtflcA-l 




before the ejes of God the Faiber, and cry guilty nt his bar, and 
look for mercy from him ; sigh under ihy bondnge, ihai m Mosea 

s Bent unto ibe Israeliles, so may Clirisl be sent into thy sou). / 1 
Be«t not therefore in the siji^t or sense of a hci^lees condiiioniNy j 
•■Ting, I can not help myself, unless Christ dot& : siglPunIi) the 
Lord Jesus in heaven for succor, and admire the Lord forever, 
thai when there va» no help, and when he might have raised 
[I of the stones childreu to praise him. yet he should send his 
Son out of his bosom to Hare ihee. So much for this pnrticul&r. 

The fillh divine principle follows to be handled. 


" Strait is the gale and narrow is the way that leadeth nnio 
life, and few there be thai find it." (MaiL vii. 14.) 
Here are two parts ; — 

1. The paucity of them tlial shall be saved : few find the way 
thither. ~ — ■ - 

2. The dJIficuU; of being saved : strait and narrow is the way 
■nd gate unto life. 

Hence arise two doctrines : — 

1. That the number of them that shall be saved is very small. 
(Luke xiii. H.) The devil hath his drove, and swarms to go to 
hell, as fast as bees to their hive. Christ liath his tl9ck. and that ii 
but a little flock ; hence God's children are colledjiewelg, (Mai. iii. 
17,} which commonly are kept secret , in respect of the oilier 
hmber in llie house ; hence they are cat led stranj^rs and pilgrims, 
which are very few in respect of the inhabiianis of ihe country 
through which they pass ; hence they are called sons of God, 
(IJoho iii. i:) of the blood royul, which are few in reepecl of 
common subjects. 

But «ee the truth of this point in these two things : — 

Pint, look to all ages and times of the world ; secondly, to all 
phues and persons in the world i and we shall see fen men were 

I . Look to alt ages, and we shall End but a handful saved. As 
won B« ever the Lord began to keep house, and there were but 
two famitieg in it, there was a. bloody Cain living, and a good 
Abel (lain. And as the world increased in number, so in wick- 
■M. Qvn. vi IX, it i> said, "All fieah bad corrupted thair 


ways," an'i amongst so many (housand men, nol one rightcool ] 
but NohIi and hi« fnniily, and jet in the ark there crept ii 
cursed ChHm. 

Afterwards, aji Abrahnm's posterity increased, so we see thdr I 
sin abaumled. riWIien his posterity was in Egypt, where, ona i 
would think, if ever men were pood, now it would appear, beii^ J 
BO heavily attlicled by Phai-aoh, being by bo many miracles mirao- j 
ulousiy delivered by iJie hand of &iose«, yet most of these God i 
was wroth with, (Heb. iii. 12.) and only two of them. Caleb and 
Joshua, went into Canaan, a type of heaven. Look into Solo- 
mon's lime, what glorious timca ? what great profession was there 
then ? Yet, after his death, tea tribes fell to the odioos sin of 
idolatry, following the eommajidof Jeroboam, their king. Look 
further into litainh's time, when there were multitudes of sacri- 
ficea and prayers, (Is. i. 11 ;) yet then there was but a remnant ; 
nay, a very little remnant, that should be saved. And look to 
the time of Christ's coming in the flesh, (for I pick out the best 
time of all.) when one would think, by sueh sermons he preached, 
such miraeles hfl wrought, such a life as he led, all the Jewi 
would have entertained him ; yet it is said, " He came unto his 
own, and they received hiui noL" So few, that Christ himself 
admires at one good Nathaniel, " Behold an Israelite in whom , 
there is no guile." In the apostles' time, tnajiy, indeed, were con- 
verted, but few comparatively, and amongst the best churcheg 
many bad, as ibal at Philippi. (Phil. iii. 18.) Many had ■ 
name to live, but were dead, nnd few only kept their garmentt 
unspotted. And presently, after the apostles' time, " Manj' 
grievous wolves came and devoured the sheep ; " and so, in su<^- 
ceeding ages, (Rev. zii. 9,) all the earth wondered at the whon 
in Buarlet. 

And in Lulher's time, when the light began to arise again, hfl 
saw so many carnal gospelers, that he breaks out in one sermOB 
into these speeches : " God grant I may never live to see thoM ^ 
bloody days that are coming upon an ungodly world." Latinm ' 
heard so much profuneness in his time, that he thought veri^' 
doomsday was just at hand. And have not our ears heard cen- 
suring those in the Palatinate, where (as it is reported) many 
have fallen fi^m the glorious gospel to Popery, as fust as leaves 
fall in autumn? Who would have thought there had lurked 
such hearts under such a show of detesting Popery as was 
among them before ? And at Christ's coming, shall he find faith 
on the earth ? 

2. Let us look into all places and persons, and see how few 
■ball be saved. The world is now spUt ij " . r- _ _ 

pUt into four parts, Europi^ ■ 

THF arNCEaE coitvert. 

A«ia, Africa, snd America; and the ihree bi^^st parla are 
drowned in a deluge of prafiincness and snperelUwn ; ihey do 
not BO much aa profess Christ j jou may see the sentence of 
death written on these men's foreheada. ( Jer. x. ull.) But let ua 
look upon the best part of the world, and that is Europe ; how 
lew ihall be saved there ! First, the Greeiifn church, how- 
soever, now in these days, their good patriarch of Constantino- 
ple is about a general reformation among them, and halh done 
much good, yet are they for the present, and have been for the 
most part of them, without ihe saving means of knowledge. 
"They content themselves with ihcir old superstitions, having lit- 
tic or no preaching at all. And for the other parts, as Italy, 
Spain, France, Germany, for the moat part they are Popish ; and 
•ee the end of these men. (2 Thess. ii. 'J-12.) And now amdltgst 
them that carry the badge of honesty, I will not spcnk what 
Bine ears have heani and my heart believes concerning other 
churches : I will come inlo'our own church of England, which jT" 
the most flourishing church in the world ; never had church such 
preachers, such means; yet hnve we not some chapela and 
churches stand aa dark lanterns without light, where people are 
led with blind, or idle, or licentious ministers, imd so both fail 
into the diich ? 

Nay, even amongst them that liavc the means of grace, but 
few shall be saved. It may be sometimes amongst ninety-nine ' 
in a piu'ish, Christ sends a minister to call some one lost sheep 
among them. (Matt, xiii.) Three grounds were bad where the 
•eed waa town, and only one good. It is a strange speech of 
Chrysostom in his fourth sermon to the [icople of Antioch, where 
he was much beloved, and did much good — How many do you 
Ihink, MUth he, shall be saved in this city ? It will be a luird 
nMech to you, but I will epeak it ; though here bo so many 
titouranda of you, yet there can not be found a hundred thai 
riudl be saved, and I doubt of them too ; for what villainy is 
there among youth ! what sloth in old men ! and so he goes on. 
So say I, Never tell me we are baptized, and are Christians, and 
■ trust to Christ ; let us but separate the goats from the sheep, 
and exclude none but such as the Scriptures doth, and sets a 
CTOH upon their doors, with. Lord, have mercy upon them, and 
we shall see only a few in the city shall be saved. 

1. Cast out all the _pro fane people among u.i, as drunkards, 
•wearers, whores, liars, wTnchllie "Scripture brands for black 

I akeep. and condemns them in a, hundred pinces. 

2. Set by n U civil men that arc but wolves ohaineii up, tamet 
■ ! itmSurT-"- ■ ■ ■ - 

I ieiiia, twine ii 

HUT Mi;adow, that pay all they owe, and 

do I 



I nobody nny hArm, jetdojK«iejjjy_e:eaLS90'I ; I'lat plead for j 
themselves, and say, Wlio can say. Black is mine eye? "" 
are riglitcous men, wiiom Christ never came ro call, ■* I 
come not to call Ihe righteous, liul sinners, to repentance." 

3. Cast by all tu! jtocrilc-g.j l]m like sltige players, in the sight 
of others, act tlie part of kings and honest men ; when, look 
upon them in their tyring house, they are but base variety. 

4. Formal protesGors and carnal gospelera, that have a thing 
like failh, and like 8orrow,'"ah3"T3a!'"Irutf repentance, and Uk« 
good desires, but yet they be but pictures ; they deceive olhen 
and themselves loo. (2 Tim. iii. 5. J 

Set by these four sorts, how few then are to be saved, eveo 
among them that are hatched in the bosom of the church ! 

First. Here, then, is a use of encouragement Be not discou^ 
aged by the name of singularity. What ! do you think your" 
self wiser than others ? and shall none be saved but such as are 
BO precise as ministers prate? Are you wiser than others, that 
you think none shall go to heaven but yourself? I tell you, if 
I you would be saved, you must be singular men, not out of fao* 
\ tion, but out of conscience. (Acts xxiv. 16.) 

Secondly. Here is matter of terror lo all those that be of 
opinion that few shall be saved ; and therefore, when they are 
convinced of the danger of ain by the word, they fly to this 
shelter: If I be damned, it will be woe U> many more beside me 
then ; as though most should not be damned. O, yes, the moat 
of them that live in the church shall perish ; and this made • 
hermit which Theodoret mentions to live IJfteen years in a cell ia, 
a denolale wilderness, with nothing but bread and water, and yet 
doubled, after all his sorrow, whether he should be saved or 
not. 0. God's wrath is heavy, which thou shalt one day bear. 

Thirdly. This ministereib exhorlaiion to all confident peo- 
ple, that think they believe, and say, they doubt not but to ba 
saved, and hence do not much fear death, 0, learn hence to 
suspect and fear your estates, and fear it so much that thoa 
canst not be quiet until thou hast got some assunuice thou shalt 
be saved. When Christ told his disciples that one of them 
should betray him, they all said, " MasIer,iBit I?" But if he had 
said eleven of liiem should betray him, all except one, would tbef 
not all conclude. Surely, it is I ? If the Lord had said. Only few 
■boU be damned, every man might fear, It may be it is I ; but now 
b|ia«yBnioslshall, every roan may cry out and say, Surely it is L 
No humble heart but is driven to and fro with many stinging 
fy§n this way ; yet there is a generation of presuraptuooa, 
braEen-faced, bold people, that confidently think of themaelve*) 


w the Jews of the Phnriseeg, (being so holy and strict,) thftt h 
if God sAve but two in the world, (hey shall make one. f 

The child of God. indeed, is bold as & lion ; but he halh God's 
•pint and promise, assuring him of hia etemnl welfare. But I 
^leak of divers thut have no sound ground to prove this point, 
^hich they pertinaciouslj defend,) ihitt they ehail be saved. 
Thia confident humor rageth raost of all in our old professors 
at lai^. who think, that is a je$t indeed, that having been of n 
good belief so long, that they now should be so far beliindhiind as 
to begin the'work, and lay the foundation anew. And not only 
among these, but amongst divers Mirls of people whom the devil 
never troubles, because be b sure of them already, and therefore 
cries peace in their eare, whose consciences never trouble them, 
because that bath shut its eyes ; and bence they sleep, and 
•keeping dream that God is merciful unto them, and will be so : 
yet never f«e ihey are deceived, tintti they awake with the flamea 
fff bell about their ears ; and the world troubles them not ; 
Aey have their hearts' desire here, because ihey are friends to 
it, and 80 enemies to God. And ministers never trouble them, 
tot they have none such as are fit for tlmt work near them ; or 
if they have, they can sit and sleep in the church, and choose 
irheiber they will believe him. And their friends never trouble 
them, because they are afraid to displease them. And God him- 
■elf never trouble* them, because that time is to come hereafter. 
This one truth, well jrondered and thought on, may damp thine 
beart, and make thy conscience fly in thy face, and say, 
" Thou art the man ; " it may he ihcre are heller in hetl than 
ttjielf, that art so confldent; and therefore tell me, what hast 
Uwii to say for thyself, that thou shall be saved ? In what thing 
hut thou gone beyond them that " think they are rich and want 
■Olhing, who yet are poor, blind, miserable, and naked ? " 

Thou wilt say, haply, first, I have left my sina I once lived 
b, and am now no drunkard, no swearer, no liar, Slc. 

I answer. Thou maycst be washed from tliy mire, (the pollu- 

m of the world,) and yet be a swine in God's account, (2 Pel. 

20 i) thou mayest live a blameless, innocent, honest, smooth 
Kfe. and yet be a miserable creaiure still. (PliiL iji. 6.) 

But I pray, and that often. 

Tliis thou mnycst do, and yet never be saved. (Is. i. 11.) 
To what purjHise is your muliiiude of sacrifices? Nay, thoa 

lyesi pray willi much afTeclion, with a good heart, as thou 
Ihinkcst, yet a thouiiand milea off from being saved. (Pror. 

4. a*.) 

Bui I (iut somclimet, as well as pray. 


So did the acrilies and Pharisees, even twice s week, whM 
could not be public, but private fasta. And yet this righteon 
DesB could never Eave them. 

But I hear the word of God, and like the best preachers. 

This thou mayest do too, and yet never be saved. Nay, llKMi 
mayest bo bear, as lo receive much joy and comfort in hearing, 
nay, to believe and cnlch bold on Christ, and so eay and think he 
b tbinc, and yet not be saved ; as the slony ground did, (MatL 
xiii.,) who heard (he word with joy, and for a eeason believed. 

I read the Scriptures often. 

This you may do loo, and yet never he tuived ; as the Phari- 
sees, who were so perfect in reading the Bible, that Christ needed 
but only say, " It bath been said of old time ; " for they knew the 
text and place well enouf;b without intimation. 

But I am grieved and am sorrowful, and repent for my sins 

Judoa did thus, (Matt sxvii. 3 ;) he repents himself with a legal 
repentance for feur of hell, and with a natural sorrow for deal- 
ing so unkindly with Christ, in betraying not only blood, but 
innocent blood. True humiliation id over accompanied with 
hearty reformation. 

0, but I love good men and their company. 

So did the five foolish virgins love the company, and (at the 
time of eiiremity) the very oil and grace of the wise ; yet they 
were locked out of the gales of mercy. 

But God hath given me more knowledge than others, or than 
I myself had once. 

This thou mayest have, and be able to teach others, and think 
BO of thyself too, and yet never be saved. ' 

But I keep the Lord's day strictly. I 

So did the Jews, whom yet Christ condemned, and were newrfl 

I have very many good desires and endeavors lo get to 

These thou and thousands may have, and yet miss of heaven. 
Many shall seek to enter in at that narrow gate, and not be 

True, tliou wilt say, Many men do many duties, but wiOiout 
any life or zeal ; I am zealous. 

So tltou mayest be, and yet never be saved, as Jehu. Paul 
was zealous when be was a Pharisee, and if he wa.s so for a false 
religion, and a bad cause, why, much more mayest thou be for a . 
good cause ; so zealous as not only lo cry out gainst profane- 
ness in the wiektd, but civil honesty of others, and hypocrisy of j 



ethers, jea, even uf the coldness of tlie best of God's people ; 
I ibou majest be the fore horse in the team, and the ringleader of 
I food exercises amongst the best men, (as Joash, a tricked king, 
was the first that complained of the negligence of his best olS- 
eera in not repairing tbe temple,) and so stir them up unto it; 
nay, Uiou mayest be ho forward as to be persecuted, and not 
yield an inch, nor shrink in the wetting, but maj-cst manfully ' 
and courageously stand it out in time of persecution, as Uio 
ibomy ground did ; ao zealous thou mayest im, aa to like best of i 
and to tlock most unto tbe most zenlous preacbers, that search 
men's consciences best, as the whole country of Judea came 
flocking to John's ministry, and delighted to bear him for a sea- 
■on ; nay, thou mayest be zealous as to take sneet delight in 
doing of all these things. (Is. Iviii. '2, 8,) "They delight In ap- 
proaching near unto God," yet come short of heaven. 

But tbou wilt say, True.insnyii mati ndes post that breaks I 
his neck at last ; many a tnan is zealous, but his fire is soon I 
quenched, and his zeal is soon spent ; they hold not out ; whereas I 
I aro constant, and persevere in godly courses. I 

So did that young man ; yet he was a graceless man. (Mall. I 
xii. 20,) " All ihe^e things have I done from my youth ; what I 

It b true, hypocrites may per&evarBi but ihey know them- 
•elvee to he naught all the while, and so deceive others ; but I J 
Am persuaded that I am in God's fuvor, and in a safe and happy A 
Mtaie, since I do all with a good heart fur God. / 1 

This thou niayest verily think of thyself, and yet be deceived Y 1 
and damned, and go to ibe devil at lust. " There is a way," saith I 
Bolomoo, "that seemetb right to & man, but tbe end thereof is 
the iray of death," For he is a hypocrite not only that makes 
a aeeming outward show of what he bath not, but also that hath . 
4jriie^how of wh at indeed there is not. Tbe ilrsrson of hyp^' 
. ocril^ llcnITS others only ; thj Uf ler, having some inward yel / 
. fiMDinon work, deceive themse lve s too. (James L 26,) " If any V I 
1 seem to hie religious," (so many are, and so deceive ^jo I 
world :) but it is added, " deceiving his own soul." Nay, thoa\ I 
IlkByest go BO fairly, and live so honestly, that all the best Chris-\ 1 
tfauis about tliee may think well of ihec and never suspect ihee, | 
and so mayeal |ia«s through the world, and die with a deluded ( 
«Oinfon that thou shall go to heaven and be canonised for a I 
■unt in thy funeral sermon, and never know thou art counterfeit , I 

»liU the I»rd brings ihee to ihy strict and last examination, and bo / I 
Ibou r«peivesi that dreadful sentence, " Go, ye cursed." So it w aa / 
with llie five foolish virgins, thai were never discovered by llie 
VWL. I. f. 


wise, nor hy llicmsclves, until the gate of gr&ce was shut upoB 

them, 11' thou hast, iheFefore, no belter evidences 10 show for 

thyself, tlmt thine estate is g^nod, than these, I will not give a pin's 

point for all ihy Haltering false hopes of being saved. But it niaj 

I be tliou hast never yet come so far as to this pilch ; and if not. 

I .Lord, what will become of thee ? -^jip""' '''Thfllf I P'T^^i ""j ^ 

J Jwhen, in this shipwreck of soub, thou seest so many thousands 

lIsiDk, cry out, and conclude, II is a wonder of wondeni, and a 

iftbousan^ and a thousand to one, if ever thou comest safe lo 


O, strive, then, to be one of them that shall be saved, though 
it cost thee thy blood and the loss of all that thou hast ; labor to 
go beyond all those that go so far and yet perish at the last. Do 
not say thai, seeing so few shall be saved, therefore this disrour- 
l-Bgeth mc from seeking, because all my labor may be in vain. 
^Cinaider that Christ hero makes another and a better use of il. 
(Lukt) iii 24.) Seeing thai "many shall seek and not enter, 
therefore," saith he, "strive to enter in at the sirail gate." Ven- 
ture, at least, and try what the Lord will do for thee^ 

Wherein doth the child of God, and so how may I, go beyond 
these hypocrites that go so far ? 
In three things principally. 

First. No unregenerale man, though he go never so far, let 
him do never so much, but he lives in some one sin or other, 
secret or open, lilile or great. Judas went far, but he was cov- 
k etous. llerod went far, but he loved hb Herodias. Every dog 
J halh his kennel ; every switi« lialh his swill, and every wicked 
|mufl his Inst- For no unregenerale man h alh fruit ion of God 

some good to_(M3nIent it i which good is to be found only in the 
ftjuntairi of ~kll gooJ, and that is God, or in the dstern, andthat 
, is in Ihe creatures. Hence, a man having lost full content in 
] God, he see^ for and feeds upon contentment in the creature 
J which he makes a god to him ; and here lies his lust or sin, 
which he must needs live in. Hence, ask those men that go 
very far. and lake their penny for good silver, and commend 
themselves for their good desires — I say, a>:k them if they have 
no sin. Yes, say ihey ; who can live without sin? And so 
they give way to sin, and llicrefore live in sin. Nay, commonly, 
nil llie duties, prayers, care, and zeal of the best hypocrites are 
to hide a tual, as the whore in the Proverbs, that wipes her 
mouth, and goes lo the temple, and pays her vows ; or lo feed a 
lust, as Jehu his zeal against Baal was to get u kingdom. There 
root of bitterness in the best hypocrites, which. 



howsoever it be lopped off sometimes hy sickness or horror of 
conscieace, and a man halh purpoaea never to commit again, yet 
there it secretly lurks ; and, though it secmeth to be bound and 
conquered by the word, or by prayer, or by outward crosses, or 
white the hand of God is upon a man, yet the inward strength 
and power of it remains still : and therefore, when temptations, 
like strong Philistines, are upon this man again, he breaks all i 
TOWS, promises, bonds of God, and will save the life of hia sin. 

Secondly. No unregenerate man or woman ever came to be 
poor in spiri t, and so lo be carried out of all duties unto Christ. -. 
it It were "possible for them lo forsake and break loose forever 
from all sin, yet here they stick, as the scribes and Pharisees ; 

like zealous Paul before bis conversion, they fasted and / J 
prayed, and kept the Sabbath, but they rested in their Je£al/*j 
righieou^ne^, and in the pertbnnance of these and the like 
ihni«s: — TakF ihe best hypocrite, that hath the most strong 
persuasions of God's love to him, and ask him why he hopes to 
be saved. He will answer, I pray, read, hear, love good men, 
cry out of the »na of the tune. And tell him again that a 
hypocrite may climb these stairs and go as far, he will reply, 
True, indeed ; but they do not what they do with a sound heart, 
but to be »een of men. Mark, now, how these men feel a good^ 
heart in themselves and in all things they do ; and therefore 
feel not a want of all good, which is poverty of spirit ; and there- 
fore here they fall short (Is. IxvL 2.) There were divers 
hypocrites forward for the worship of God in the .temple ; but 
God loathes these, because not poor in spirit ; to them only, it ia 
•aid, the Lord wilMonfc; — i^bwre" BBCinBany professors very 
forward for all good duties, but as ignorant of Christ, when ibey 
are sifted, as blocks. And if a man (as few do) know not Christ, 
he must rest in his duties, because he knows not Christ, to whom 
mu&t go and be carried if ever he be saved. I have heard 
1 man that, being condemned to die, thought to escape the 
gallows, and to save himself from hanging, by a certain gid he ^^ 
■aid he had of whistling. So men seek to save theinselves by / 
their gifts of knowledge, gifts of memory, gifts of prayer ; and J 
when tEeysee they must die for tlieit sins, UlU Is the ruin of 
many a soul, that, though lie forsake Egypt and his sins and 
flesh pots there, and will never be go as he halh been, yet he 
never cometh into Canaan, but logeth himself and bis soul in a 
wilderness of many duties, and there perisbetb. 

Thirdly. If any unregenerate man come unto Christ, he 

never get) into Christ, ihut is, never takes his eternal re^t and -i 

lodging in Jesus Christ only. ^Ueb. iv, i,) Judaa followed 




Christ for tlie bug ; he would have tho hag and Christ too. The 
young mnn irame unto Christ to he. his disciple ; but he would 
have Christ and th e world too. They will not content them- 

■.eelves wiih GhngL. aIon,e j nor ^ih ihe world alone, but mnks 
their markels out of bo[h, like whorieh wives, that will plenae 
their husbwidB nnd oihers too. Men io distress of conscience, 
. if they have comfort from Christ, they are contented ; if they 
have salvation from hell by Christ, they are contenled ; but 
Christ himself contents them not. Thus far a hypocrite goes 
not So much for ihe first doctrine observed' out of the text. 
I come now to the second. 

Boelrim 2. Tliat those that arc saved arc saved with mudt 
difficulty ! or it is a wonderful hard thing to be saved. 

The gat« is strait, and therefore a man must pwc at and strf v* 
t«^teri both the entrance is difBcult, and the progress of sal- 
talion too. Jes us Chrigt ia not got with a wet finger. It is not 
w ishin f T a nd oeBiHB^ tS'tC'iAvw Will .Jjring men to heaven ; 
hell's mouth is full of good wishes. It is not shedding a tear at 

>R Mrmon, or blubbering now and then in a comer, and saying 
over thy prayers, and crying God mercy for thy sins, will save 
thee. It IB not, Lord, have mercy upon us, wiil do thee good. 
It is not coming constantly to church. These are easy matter*. 
But il is a lough work, a wonderful hard matter, to be saved. 
(1 Pel. iv. 18.) Hence the way to heaven is compared to a 
race, where a man must put forth all his strength, and stretch 
every limb, and all lo get forward. Hence a Christian's life ia 
compared to wrestling. (Eph. vi. 13.) All the policy and 
power of hell buckle together against a Christian ; therefor* 
he must look to himself, or else he falls. Hence it is compared 

\tii fighting. (2 Tim, iv. 7.) A man mu st fight againBt_the dejji, 
the world, himself, who shoot poisoned bullets In ttie soul, wtera 
a man must kill or be killed. God hath not lined the way to 
Christ with velvet, nor strewed it with rushes. He will nevee 
feed a slothful humor in man, who will be saved if Christ and 
heaven would drop into their mouths, and if any would bear their- 
charges thither. If Christ might be bought for a few 'cold 
wishes and lazy desires, he would be of small reckoning amongst 
men, who would say. Lightly come, lightly go. Indeed, Chilsft 
^oke ii easy in itself; and when a man is got into Christ, noth-' 
ing is so sweet : but for a camal, dull heart, it is hard to draw' 
iaiti for 

^ There are four strait gates which every one must pass throii{ 
before he can enter into beaven.J 
~t I. There is the strait gate ef humiliation. God eaveth d« 


but first he liumbleth them. Now, it is hard to pofis throii 
the gates and 6)inies of licll ; for n heart as siilF as a stake 
bow ; as hard a.i a stone to bleed for the leiut prick ; not 

mourn for one ein, but all sins ; and not fur a lit, but all a n 

lifetime. O, it is hard for a inaD to suffer hiioself to be louUen'iC!] 
with sin. and pressed to death for sin, ao as never to love sin 
aon, but1o~spit in the fhce oi that which he once loved aa 
dearlj as bis life. It is Ditfj to drop a tuar or two, and be ser- ' 
mon aick ; but to hnve a heart rent for sin and from ain, this is 
true humilitalion ; and this is liard. 

2. The atrait gate of faitli. (Eph. i. 19.) It is an easy raatterN 
lo presume, but Kard to believe in Christ. It is easy for a man 
that was never humbled to believe and say. It is hut believ- 
ing; but it is a hard matter for a man humbled, when he see* 
all hia sina in order before him, the devil and conscience roaring 
upon him, and crying out against him, and Giod frowning u|>on 
him, now to cnll God Fatlier, is a hard work. Judas had ralhcr 
be hanged than believe. It is hard to aec a Christ aa a rock to 
stand upon, when we are overwhelmed with sorrow of heart for 
Bin. It is hard to prize Christ above len thousand worlds of 
pearl ; it ia hard to desire Ciirist, and nothing but Christ ; hard 
to follow Christ all the day long, and never to be quiet till he it 
got in thine arras, am) then with Simeon to say, '' Lord, 
letlest thou thy servant de|iHrt in peace." 

3. Tlie atrait gate of repentance . It is an easy matter 
man to confess Limaell to be a Siflnn', and to cry to God forgive- 
ness until next time ; but to have a bitter sorrow, and so to turn 
from all sin, and to return to God, and alllbe^ ways of God, whiub 
is true repentance indeed, this is hard. 

i. The strait gale of opposititin of devils, the W9rlil, nnd a. 
man's own self, who knock a man down when he begins to look 
lowara ' 



■n m 
± ■ 

^^HsI and hi 
i/tRarn. tha 

y easy w ay to heaven is a false ti 
kllhough ministers should preach it < 

e way, 1 
t of their pulpits, atkd 
angels should publish it out of heaven. 

Now, there are nine easy ways to heaven, (us men think,) alt 
which lead tc 

1. Tlie common broad waji wherein & whole parish may all go 
tbre«<lth In it; tell iliese people thf^y shall be damned, their 
answer i-i, Then woe to many more besides me. 

2, The wiiy of civil education, whereby many n 
by little anil little tiimed, and like wolves are chained up easily ' 

■ way of good wishes, whereby many people 



Confena their ignonince, forgetlulness, and ihat they a 

such showa as oihera do, but tbcy iliant God th^iVji 

gw)d, «nd "God for Lis pnrt atcepls (w»y t~ 

tlie JKcd. And, *" My son, give me thy huari ; " the heart 'u 

in all, and so long they hopi^i to do well enough. Poor deluded ( 

i creatures Hum think to break through annjed of sins, devil^ { 
temptations, and to break open llie very gales of heaven witl 
titvr good wishes ; they think to come to their Journey's e 
without legs, becRiise their hearts are good lo God. 

4. The way of formality, wlierebv men rest in tlie perfor 




ard life. JMarT 

i. 14.) livery man mu«t liave some religion, some fig leai 
hide their nakedness. Now, this religion must be either true 
religion or Ihc faJse one ; if the true, he must either take up the 
power of il, — but Ihat he will not, because it is burdensome, — or 
the form of ii : and ihie being easy, men embrace it as their God, 
and will rather lose iheir lives than ibeir religion thus taken up. 
—^Thi g foi-m of re li gi"" i ° [he easiest religion in the world ; j artlr 
beaiujfi_itje gsetb men of trouble of conscienc e, (^u JQling tUat i 

book, and pray, keep thy conscience better, and bring thy Bible 
with ihce; now, conscience is silent, being charmed down with 
Jhe form of religion, at the devil ia driven away (as they say) 
' with holy water; partly, also, because the form of religion credit! 
a man, partly bccauae it is easy in itself; it is of a light carriage, 
buing but the shadow and picture of the substance of religion ; 
ns DOW, what an easy matter it is to come to church I They hear 
(at least outwardly) very attentively an hour and more, and then 
to turn to a proof, and lo turn down a leaf: here is the form,* 
But now to spend Saturday night, and all the whole Sahbatli 
day morning, in trimming the lump, and in getting oil in the heart 
to meet the bridegroom the next day, and so meet him in the 
word, and there to tremble at the voice of God, and suck the 
, breast while it is open ; and/when the word is done, V go aside 
' privately, and there ^ chew upon the word, there t*. lament with 
tears all the vain thoughts \a duties, deadnesa in hearingyihis is 
hard, because this is tlie )iower of godliness, and this nen will 
not take up : so for private prayer ; what an easy matter is it 
for a man to say over a few prayers out of some devout book, or 
lo repeat some old prayer, got by heart since a child, or to have 
two or three short-winded wishes for God's roercy in the morning 
and at night I this form is easy. But now to prepare the heart 
by serious meditation of God and man's self, before he pray^ 
then t« oome lo God with a bleeding, hunger-ttorved heart, DOt 


only with a desire, but with a warrmnt, I must have such or such 
a mercy, aud there to wrestle with God. ahhongh it be an hour 
or two together for a blessing, litis is too hard ; men think n 
do ihng, and therefore they will not. 


Fifthly, The way of preaumpti on. whereby men, barinp geen 
eir sins, catcib hold easily upon (jod'g mercy, and gnfttco com- 

Torlg hefore they are reached c— 
«f comfort, in the book of Uod, 

unto Iher 

mere id no word 


lued tor such ua regard ii 
quity in their hearts, though ibey do not act il in their hvea. Their 
only comfort Is, that the sentence of damnalion is not yet exe- 
«Bied upon tbem. 

Sixthly. T he w a y of slotb, thereby men lie Btill. and aav . 
God must do~a11 . II ihe Lord would set up a pulpit at the ale- 
house door, It may be they would bear oflener. If Grod will always 
thunder, they will always pray ; if strike them now and then 
with sickness, God shall be paid with good words and promi&ea 
enough, thai ihej nill be better if thej liye ; but, as long as 
peace lasts, ihey will run to hell as fa^t as they can ; and, if God 
will not catch ihem, they care not, they will not return. 

Serentblr. The way of carelessness, when men, feeling many 
difficulties, pass through some of incm, but not all, and what they 
can not get now, ihey feed themselves with a false hope Ihey 
■hall hereafter; they are content to be called pfecisians, and 
foob, and craiy brains, but they wan t brok e nnegg of heart, and ■, 
' they will pray (it may beJTcirltriuiJ^ass by itat JTffieuIly ; but 
to keep die wound always open, this they will not do ; to be 
dway* sighing for help, and never to give themselves rest till 
their hearts are humbled, that they will not ; " These have a 
name lo live, yet are dead." 

Eighthly. The way of moderation, or hnngfl t jj afrctinn^ ( Rev. 
^iil. 16,) wbi cli, md eed, is notmng but lukewarmnesa of the soul jV** 
and that is, VMtt a man contrives, and cuts out such a way to 
heaven as he may be hated of none, but please all, and so do 
any thing for a quiet life, and so sleep in a whole skin. Tlia 
Lord saith. " He that will live godly must suffer persecolion," 
Ho, not so. Lord. Surely, (think they,) if men were discreet and 
wise, it would prevent a great deal of trouble and oppoMtion in 
good courses ; this man will commend liiose that are most xeal- 
ous. if they were but wise ; if he meet with a black-mouthed 
swearer, he will not reprove him, lest he be displeased with him ; 
if be meet with an honest man, he will yield to all he saith, that 
•o he may commend him ; and when he meets them both to- 
gether, they shall be both alike welcome (whatever he thinks) 
lo his house and table, because he would fain b« at peace witb 


Ninthly, and liiftlj. The way of self-love , whereby a man, 
fearing terribly lie shall be damned, useih diligently all meaof 
whereby he shall be saved. Here is the strongest difficulty of 
all, lo row against the stream, and to hale a man's self, and iben 
to follow Christ fully. 

I come now to the sixth general head, proposed in order to bt 



" Wht win ye die ? " ( The great cause why 
so many people die, and perish everlastingly, is because tbey 
will ; every man that perisheth is his own butcherer or mur- 
derer. (Matt. xxii. 27. Hosea is.) This is the point we propose 
to prosecute at present. 

Qurttioti, The question here will be, how men plot and per- 
fect their owa ruin. 

Antwer. By these four principal means, which are the four 
great rocks that most men are split upon ; and great necessity 
lieth upon every man to know them ; for when a powder plot is 
discovered, the danger is almost past. I say, (here are these four 
causes of man's eternal overthrow, which I shall handle largely, 
and make use of every particular reason, M'hen it is open and 

»j First. Bj_rpaiu>n r,f jjjgx bloody bUi:k ignnranco of men , 
whereby thousands remam wofully ignorant of Iheir spiritual 
estate, not knowing how the case stands between God and their 
Boula, hut thinking themselves to be well enough already, they 
never seek to come out of their misery till they perish in iL 
, Secondly. By rea.'^n p nf ttiht i's carnal security , putting ihB 
evil day from them, whereby they (eel not tneir teanul ihralldom, 
and so never groan to come out of the slavish bondage of sin and 

^ Thirdly. By reason of man'a carnal confidence, whereby they 
shift lo save tliemselvea by their own dun es and' performanc es, 
when they feel ii. ' 

-. Fouribly. ^y rpaaon of man's bold presumption, whereby ■ 
men scramble lo save ibemsejves by their own seeming faith, 
when they see an inaulficieney in duties, and an unworihinfiH"**^ 
them^olvus for Gud lo save them. 


I trill begin with the flrat renaoa, and discover the ' 
whereby men blow up themselves, which is this: tl 

ool t his misery , nor thai fearful, af cii tsalt JalflTB Btot 

l\u-y lie, biit 'tmnk \ni eay'Hte.y aliall do as well as otiiers; and 
IhereTorc, when any friend persuaJeth theni to come out of it, and 
thows them the danger of remaining in such a condition, what ia 
their tnawer ? I pray you save your breath to cool your broth. 
Every vat shatl stand on liis own bottom. Let me alone ; I hope 
I have a eoul to save as well aa you, and shall be as careful of 
it as you shall or can be. You shall not answer for my eouL 
I hope I shall do as well as (he precisest of you all. 

Hence, likewiM, if the minister come home to llicm, tliey go 
home with hearts full of outeriej against the man, and their 
tongue dipped in gall against the sermon. God be merciful unto 
ns if all ibis be true ! Here's harsh doctrine enough to make 
a man run out of his wit«, and to drive me to despair. Thus 
they know not their misery, and not knowing, (ihey are lost. and 
condemned creatures under the everlasting wrath of God,) they 
never seek, pray, strive, or follow the means whereby they may 
come out of it, and so perish in it, and never know it till they 
-«wake with the flames of hell about their ears. They will 
acknowledge, indeed, many of them, that all men are bora in m, j^ 
most miserable estate ; but they never apply particularly thatv 
general truth to themselve~i, saying, I am the man ; I am now 
under God's wrath, and may be snatched away by death ever; 
bour; and then I am undone and lost forever. 

Now, there are two sorts of people that are ignorant of this 
their misery. 

First. The eommon sort of profane, blockish, ignorant people.^ 

Secondly. The finer sort of unsound, hollow professors, that '^ 
liavo A [in«fiM-j f,'s pride , that think themselves fair and in very 
good estate, though they have but one feather on their crest to 
boost of. 

I will begin with the first sort, and show you the reasons why 
they are ignorant of their misery; that in, for these four reasons: — 

First. Sometimes because tliey want the saving meatis of" 
knowledge. There Is no faithTiiTTninister, no compassionate 
Lot, to tell them of tire and brimstone from heaven for their 
crying ains ; there is no Noah to forewarn them of a flood ; there 
u DO messenger to bring them tidings of those armies of God't 
devouring plagues and wrath that are approaching near unto 
them ! they have no pilot — poor forsaken creatures — to show 
theu their rock ; they have either no minister at all to teach 
IbeiB, either becaiue the parish is t4xi poor, or the church Uvitig 



Itoo great to nuuntain a failhful man, (ihe strongest asses carrjingr 
the greatest burdeos commonly.) O, woful pbjaiciuns ! Som»- 
times lliey be profane, and can not beai themfielves ; and M)iti«- 
timcB they be iguonint, and know not what lo preaeb, anWu ibey 
ahould luUow the st«ps of Mr. Latimer's Frier ; or, at Ike beat, 
they shoot off a few popguns against grofts sins ; or if they do eliow 
men their misery, they licit them whole agaiD with some cotn- 
fortable, ill-applied sentences, (but I hope belter tlungs of yon^ 
my brethren,) the man's patron mny haply alorm else. Or 
else they say commonly. Thou hast sinned ; comfort thyself, but 
despair not; Christ hath suffered; and thus «kin over the wound, 
sad let it fester within, for want of cutting it deeper. I say, 
therefore, because they want a fiuthful watchman to cry, Fir^ 
, fire, in that sleepy estate of sin and darkness wherein they li^ 
therefore whole towns, parishes, generations of men are burnt 
up, and perish miserably. (Lam. ii. 14.) 

Secondly. B'^-ftpap |bey have no leisure to consider of their 

miser^ wlien ttiey have the means of 
FeIi]cr(AcU xxiv. 25.) Many a 


unto tbec 
hath many a bitter pill 
)t a sermon, but lie bath no leisure to chew upon iL 
taken up with suits in law, and another almost ealea 
up witii suretyship, and corking cares how lo pay his debts, and { 
provide for his own ; another hath a great charge and few friends, 
and be saith the world is hard, and heni^e, Uke a mole, roots ia 
the earth, week days and Sabbath days. The world thus calling 
them on one side, and lusts on another, and the devil on the 
other aide, they have no leisure to consider of death, devil, God, j 
nor themselves, hell, nor heaven. The minister cries and knocks 
without, but there is such a noise and luml>er of tumultuous 
lusts and vain thoughts in theii' hearts and heads, that all good 
thouglits are sad, unwelcome guests, and are Itnocked dowH 

Tiiinli y. Bec a use, if they have leisure, ihey are afnkid to 

and will hear .them no more, and they will not hv such tools aa 
to believe all that such say : the reason is, ihey are afraid lo 
know the worst of themselves ; they are afraid to be cut, and 
therefore can not endure thechirurgeon; they think to be troubled 
in mind, ua others are, is the very high rood to despair ; and 
therefore, if they do hear a tale, how one, after hearing of a ser- 
mon, grew distracted, or drowned or hanged himself, it shall be 
an item and a warning to them as long as they live, for troubling 
their hearts about eucb mailers. Men of [niilty enaBcieium^ 
(hence) fly from the face of God, as prisonerT irom the judge, as _ 

debtors from the creditor. But if the Lord of hosts can catch 
you, yon must and shall feel with horror of heart (hat which you . 
tear a little now. ^ i 

Fourthly. Becauge . if ther be free from this f oflljah fear ,^ Ui^ 
^ai^StTel^nei^m'aery, py reaaon that tKey look upon their 
' ^Rtea throueh lalse glasses, and by virtue ni many fatu^ nf' ^' 
p Wl W Iheir minda. tliey cheat tlieinscirea. 
— ^ hich laise principled are tuese principally ; I will hut name 

First. They conceive God, that made them, will not be bo 
cruel as lo damn them. 

Secondly. Becuuse they feel no misery, (but are very well,) 
liter* fore they fear none. 

Thirdly. Because God blcsselh them in their outward estates, 
in their com. children, calling, friends, Ice, would God bleas them 
80, if he did not love them? 

Fourthly. Because they think sin lobe no great evil, — for all 
arc sinners, — so this can not mischief them. 

Fifthly. Because they think God's mercy is above all his 
works, though sin be vile, yet conceiving God to be all mercy, 
I All honey, and no justice, they think they are well. 

Sixthly. Because they think Christ died for all sinners, and 
tliey confess themselves to be great ones. 

Seventhly. Because they hope well, and eo think to have 

Eighthly. Because they do as most do, who, never crying out 
of their sins while ihey lived, and dying like Inmbs at la^t, they 
doubt not, for their parts, but, doing as such do, they shall dio 
bappily, as others have done. 

Ninthly. Because their desires and hearts are good, w thej 
diink. jm 

Tenthly. Because they do as well as God will give them \i^ 
grace, and so God is in the fault only if they perish. '' 

These are the reasons and grounds upon which profane peo- 
ijie are deceived. 

" it foUoweth to show the grounds on which the finer eo^ 

Hollow professors cheat and cozen their own 

It it in our church as it is in an old wood, where there 

Hiy tall trees; yet cut ihem and search thcm'decply, they 

S'~ tove pithless, ssplesx. hollotv, unsound creatures. These men 
rUt their own ruin with a finer thread, and can juggle better 
^than the common sort, and cast mists l>efore their own eyes, and 
I their own souls. It is a ministers first work to turn 



EKn from darkness into tbis light, (Acts ixvi. 16,) and t 

I Spirit's first work to convince men of sin. (John xvi. 9.) And 
therefore it is people's main work lo know the worst at first of 

Kow, the cause of these men's mistaking is tlireefold. 

Firat The spiritual madness and drunkenness of their un- 

Seeondly. The false, bastard peace begot and nourisLed in the 

Thirdly. The sly and secret distempers of the will. 

First. There are these seven drunken distempers in the 
nnderslanding or mind of man, whereby he cometh to be most 
miserably deceived-^ 

First. The understanding's arrog^uji^. You shall never see 
a mao mean and vile In his tJwn eyes, deceived, (Fs. xxv. 9 ;) 
but a proud man or woman is often cheated. Hence proud Ha- 
man thought surely he was the man whom tlie king would honor, 
when, in truth, it was intended for poor Mordecai. For pride 
having once overspread the mind, it ever hath this property — il 
mokes a penny sttuid for a pound, a spark is blown up to a flame, 
it makes a great matter of a little seeming grace ; and therefore 
the proud Pharisee, when he cnme to reckon with himself, he 
takes his poor counter, — thuL is, "I am not as other men, nor as 
this publican," — and sets it down for one thousand pounds ; that is, 
he esteems of himself as a very rich man for it ; so many a 
man, because he hath some good thing in himself, as he is pitiful to 
the poor, he Is a. true man tiiough a [loor man ; he was never 
given to wine or women ; he magnificth Itimeelf for this title, 
and so deceives and overreckona himself. There are your 
Bristow stones like diamonds, and many cheaters cozen country 
folks with Ibcm that desire to be line, and know not what dia- 
monds are ; so many men are desirous to be honest, and to be 
reputed so, not kuowing what true grace means. Therefore 
Bpstow stones are pearls in their eyes. A little seeming grace 
shines so bright in their eyes, that they are half bewitched by it 
to think Lighly of themselves, although they be but glittering, 
seeming jewels in a swine's snout. A cab of doves' dung was 
■old in Samaria's time of famine at a great rate ; a man living 
ia such a placCj where all about him are either ignorant, or pro- 
M^UW, or civil, a little moral honesty (dung in respect of true 
IfRBQe) goes a great way, and is esteemed highly of, and he is as 
(nesl a man as ever lived. To a man that looks through a red 
I glaes, all things appear red i a man looking upon himself through 
. Mme fair spectacles, through some one gtwd thing which he bath 


in himself. appears f&irtohim. Itia said, (Lukexx. ult,,) "The 
Pharisees devoured widows' houses. Might not this racking of< 
rents make them question their estates? No. Why? They 
for prelense made tong prayers t so many nen are drunk now 
and ihen, but they are »)rry ; they can not but sin, but their de- 
sires are good ; Ihey talk idly, but (hey live honestly ; they do ill 
sometimes, but they mean well. Tlius, when some good things 
«re seen in themselves, pride puffs them up with an overweening 
Qonreit of it, and so Ihey cozen their souls. 

Secondly. I^he understanding's obstinacy ; whereby the mind, 
having been long~ro(TrSd in IbtS upiitluil.'th'Srl aitiih a good"" 
estate, will not suffer this conceit to be plucked out of il. Now, 
your old rooted, yet rotten professors, having grown long in a 
good conceit of themselves, will not believe that tbey have been 
fools all their lifetime, and therefore now must pull down and 
lay the foundation agtun ; and hence you shall have many say 
of a faithful minister, that doih convince and condemn them and 
their estate la be most woful, What shall such an upstart teach 
nc? Doth he think to make me dance after his pipe, and to think 
that all my good prayers, my faith, my charity, have been so 
long abominuble and vile before God ? No silver can bribe a 
inan to cast away hi« ohl traditional opinions and conceits, wher^ 
by he cheats himself, till Christ's bhiod do it. (1 PeL i. 18.) 
And hence the woman of Samaria objected this against Jesus 
Christ, that their old '' fathers worshiped in that mountain," and 
therefore it wan as good a plitce as Jerusalem, the place of God's 
true worohip. (John iv. 20.) Slen grow rntoked and aged wiili \ 
if themselv es. ^lSt3SIirRtd(ini "pr never be aet ' 

■ a^ralahi aggin._ H ence suctTltind of people, though they vrould^ 
..sun be laacn I'or'honest, religious Christians, yet will never sus- 
pect their estates to be bad ihems^elves, neither can they endure 
that any other should search or suspect tbero to be yet rotten at 
(he heart : and are not those wave* and commodities much to be 
•uspected. nay, conriudcd to be stark naught, which the seller 
inll needs put u|K>n the chapman without peeing or looking on 
lliem lirst? It is a strong argument we produce against the 
Papist's religion to be suspected to be had, beciiuse ihcy obtru4e 
their opinions on their followers, to be believed without any 
besilation or dispute about them, either before ur after they have 
einbractfd ihem : certainly thy old taitli. thy old prayers, thy old 
boiienly. or form of piety, are counterfeit wares, that can tMl 
CIKlure searching; because ihou wilt not be driven from this 
ODnceil, I am in a good estate, I have been so long of this good 
'■indi and therefore will not begin to doubt now. It is to ba 


feuroii ihiil stidi kind of people, na I bavc miri'li ubbervuil, are.*1 
eitli<:r notoriousl)' igaorant, or have «iiiie time or oilier fiillen into 
eome horrible secret, grievous sins, as whoredom, opiiression, or 
the like, rhe guilt of which, Ijing jet secretly on them, m^cd 
them Sy from the light of God's truth, which should find them out, 
quarreling boti) against it and the ministers that preuch it. (Rom. 
ii. 8.) And therefore, as it is with thieves when ihey have any 
stolen goods brought within doors, tLcy w31 uot be eearclied or 
BUspeclcd, but say, they are as honest men as themselves lliat come 
to search ; for they fear, if they be found out, that they shall he 
troubled before the judge, and may -hardly escape with their 
lives :^o many old professors, when the minister comes to search 
them, thuy clap to the doors upon the mnn nnd (ruth too, and 
say, they hope to be saved a^ well as the best of ihem all : the 
reason is, thiey ace fiuiltjX-lltfiy-"* loiJt-to ItaJronMail^nd cast 
down by seeing the worst of themselves, and think it is hard for 
tbom 10 go 10 lieav^tTiAd be saved, if tliey have been in a wrong 
wny all their lifetime. An bonost heart will cry ailer the best 
means, " Lord, search me," (John iii. 20,) and open all tlie 
doors to the entertainment of the straitest, strictest truths. 
Thirdly. The understanding's obscurity, or ignorance of the 
I infinite exactness, glorious purity, and absolute perfection of the 
^law of Gad ; whence it comeih to pass that this burning lamp, 
■ ^^W bright "sun of God's law, being, set and obscured in their 
minds, rotten glowworms of their own righteousness, doing 
Bome things according to the law of God, shinee and glislera 
^riously in their eyes, in the dark nighttime of dlsmid dark- 
ness, by doing of wliieh they think to please God, and their 
eaUttes are very good. " I was alive," saith Paul, (Rom. vii. i),) 
" without the law ; " and he gives ibo reason of it, because sin did 
but sleep iu hun, like a cutthroat in a house where all Is quiet. 
Before the law came, he saw not lliat deadly secret score of aoiCi 
ruption, and that liller of rebellion that was lurking in his ht 
and tlierctbrc thought highly of himself for bis own righlei 

T he gospel is a glnas to show men tlie face of God | 

, (a (jor. ii. nit.) I'lie law is that glass tbat ehoweUi a 
is own face, and what he himself is. Now, if (his glass 
be Uken away, and not set before a deformed heart, how can a 
I man but think himself fair? And this is the reason why civil 

Linen , fbrmah sljijjnioBt every one, think belter of themselves 
than initeeiTthey arc, because tliey reciion without their host ; 
that is, ihey judge of the number, nature, and gi-eatne^ of their 
sins by iheir own books, by their own reason ; they- look not . 
God's debt book. Uotl's exact laws over, and coni[>are themselv^M 


iwllli: if [hey iliU. it woulii ttmaKe llic stoutest heart, and 
.'ptu'-'k down men's pliimtfi, anil tnake thtirn saj. Is [lititi aaj 
mcrcj' m greal as lo pii*a by sucli sins, and to put up such 
virongi, lutd lo for^ve such sins and debu, one of iviiich nlone 
luiiv uiiila luc, much mori* so many ? 

Kuurihly. , Tlio un Jerslanding's security or sleepiness, wherehj 
men novpr reflect upon their own actions, nor coro|iarc them with 
the rule ; although tbev have knowledge of Ihe law of God, y «t V 
"" " a with ^cni as it is witli men tha t have a fair plaw befo re , 

m. but neve r iH^holjini; lliemseiven in the plassj ihcy nuver 
ipTDi^ir j^i,.rj Tti* IS iBo woe of ntost iinregprie'rale men^ lhT*y ,' 
wain a '"^iJ^^liil'S. pf"""''- "ii'l ligl't to jiulge of Ihemaclreg bvx j ■ 
(Jer. viii. li.j Vou shiill have them ihiiik on a sermon. Here 13 
far Bueh a odo, and sut'h a one i» lout:lied here; when it may be 
the uim« sermon prjnuiiwlly apeoka of iliem; but they nuver 
Bay, This eone^raelh uie ; I naa found out through the goodDess 
•f the Lord lo-dar. and surely ihc mnn spake unto non« hut oilto 
me, n« if Romebody hud told him whiU I have done. And hence 
jou »liall And out many lame Christians, that will yitrld lo ttU 
Ihc trulhii di^livered in a sermon, and coinmeud it loo, but go away 
and ahake offull irulbs that serve to convince them. And hence 
snany men. when they examine themselves in general, whether 
Ihey have grace or no, whether they love Christ or no, they think 
yrr, that tliey do with all their hearts ; yet they neither have this 
grace nnr any other, whatever ihey think, becauae they want a re- 
flecliu); light lo judge of jenerala by iheir own particular co oracB.. 
For tell these men that ue that loves one another truly, will 
often think of him, speak of him, rejoice in his company, will not 
wrong him willingly in ihi< least thini;: imw.iuk them, if ihcy love 
Christ ihus. If they have any rctlei-ting light, they will see 
Whtrre they h1ITe one thon gl rt-af -Ch r ist, the y huv* a thuuiand 
on other things Bejoice ! nay. they are woory of his company 
in word, in pmycr. And that they do not only wrong him, but 
make a light matter of it when it is done. All are sinners, and V 
no man can live without sin. Like a sleepy man, (Are burning 
JB hi* hed straw.) he cries not out, when others happily lament 
lis esUte. that see afar off. but can nut help him. (b. xliS. 25.) 
' iian that is lo be hanged the next day may dream over night 

sballbe a king. Why!' Because ho ix asleep, he reflects 
on him»rlf. Thou maresl gn lo the devil, and be damned, 
yel ever think and dream that all h well with thee. Thoit 

I no retlucling liglit to judge of thyself. Pray ihereforo that 

Lord would turn your eyes inwar d, and do not lei Ihe devil 
delusion shut you out of your own bouse, from seeing what 
' is kept there every day. 


Fifthly. The unJera land [rig's impiely, whereby it lessens itaa 
'' vilifies the glorious grace of God in nnolner ; whence it comes to 
pass, ihat lliis deluded soui, seeing none much better thsn him- 
Belf, coDcludea, 11* any be nuveil, I shall no doubt be one. (Is. xxvi. 
10, 11.) Men vill not beUold the mnjesty of God in ibe lives 
of his people ; many a man being loo ligbt, yet deginiUH to go and 
pass for ctirrcnt, weighs himself with ihe best people.and thinks. 
What have ihcy lhat I have not? what do they that I do not ? 
And if he see they go beyond him, then Ike turns kis own balance 
with his finger, and mokes ihera too light, that so he himself mftjt 
pass for weiglit 

And this vilifying of them and their grace, judging them 
be of no other metal then other men, appears in three pa^r' 

First. Tliey raise uptiilae rej3(»l3-OCjG2C?J?9P'^' '•"^ nourii^' 
a kennet of evil suspicions of ihem ; if ihey know any sin com* 
mttled by them, they will conclude they be all such; if they 
see no oRensite sin in any of them, they are then reputed a pack 
of hypocrites ; if ihey are not so uncharitable, (having no 
grounds,) they prophesy they will hereulUr be as had us others, 
though they carry a fair flourish now. 

Secondly. If they judge well of them, then Ihey compare ihem - 
■elves to them, by taking a scantling only by iheTT^tslde, atid 
by what they see in them ; and so. like chihlren, seeing stars a 
great way off, think tliem no bigger nor brighter than winking 
candles. They stand afar off frojn seeing Ihe inside of a child 
of God ; they see not the glory of God tilling that temple ; they 
ace not the sweet influence they reoeive from heaven, and lhat 
fellowship ihey have with their God; and hence they judge 
but meanly of ihem, because the outside of a Cbrisliau is the 
worst part of him, and his glory shines chieHy wiihin. 

Thirdly. If they see God's people do excel them, that they 
have better lives, better hearts, and better knowledge, yet they 
will not conclude that they have no grace, because it harh not 
that stamp, that honest men's money hath. But this prank they 
play; they think such and such good men have a greater measure 
and a. higher degree of grace than themselves, yet they dare be 
bold lu think and say their Ifearta are as ujiTighi, though they 
be not so perfect as others are ; and so vilify ihe grace thul shines 
in the beat men, by making this gold to dilfer from their own 
copper, not essenliuljy, but gradually, and hence they deceive 
themselves miserably ; not but that one (star or] sincere Christian 
dilfera from unother in glory ; I speak of those men only that 
never were fixed in so high a sphere as true honesty dwells, yak. 




I foUt'ly fiiilier tliis bad conclusion, thatrhey nro upright for their 
t neik^ure, thai llit-y luivu nor. ihe like nieiwure irf grace received 
f M olhrrs liavo. 

Sixthly. T}i6.B iiJiiMtaTiding'fl Idolalry. irherebytlie mind sets 
ii|i. mill buwa Sown to a false minge oi grawt ; Unit i«, the mind, 
being Iguorani o{ (he height and excellency of true grace, takes a 
faliN) swintling of it, and fo imitgiiie* and l'anL'i''.'>, within itself, 
bufIi a niL'tv^ ii Tp of common ):;race to be true grmw, w hich the 
•oul easily ItaViiij^ attained unto coaceiveH il is in tliei estate of 
grace, twd ea dtwive* iliwlf miserably. (Hom-.x. 3.) And the 
mind comes lu set up her image thus : — 

First. The mind i« haunted and pursued wiih trouiilesome fears 
of hell 1 conseinniH! lelU him he lm« sinned, and the law tells htm 
be sliall dii', and Death appear^ nnd tells him lie must sbortty 
nect wiili him ; nud if he he taken away in ids »ins, then comes 
a black day of reukoning tor all his privy prank;, a diiy of tiland, 
horror, jiidsmeui, and fire, where uu creature cat) comfort him. 
Hence snith hn. Lord, kiH-|> my soul from these miwrieii ; lie 
hopeth it elmll not pi-ove «o i-vil vritli him. but.fears il will. 

Sewjidly. llereupoo he desireth ^>eaco and eiwe. and some 
usunince of freedom from those evils. For it is a hell i^v* 
ground ever to lie on the rack gf tormenting fears. 

Thirdly. That liemay have ease, he will not swugger his trouble 
away, nor drown it in tae bottom of the cup, nor throw it away 
with hi* dice, nor play it away at cards, but desires some grace, 
(and eummonly it in iho leaal niea^oiv of It too.) IIereu|tun ho 
dftiiireif to hear bucIi sermons and rend such liooks a" may twdt 
sutisly him concerning the least measure of grace; for, sin only . 
troubling him, grace only can comfort liim soundly. And bo. 
^'rai-e. which is nkeal and drink to a holy heart, is but phy«lc to 
tUU kind of men. lo ease them of iheir fears and trouble*- 

1 Icr>u|i<>n. Iiiiii^ it^noninl of the lioighl of true grace, l|f fftpriw^] 
iaiiim;'li -ii' ^ ■< ::i' i-nri- uf common grace lo be true grace. 
A,, ill,.!. ] ;,..'Srir.aiwliiA-fib'uHcs-TIm^-Sr 

iiiiii'li Lull.' ' 'I I. II ^'et, (iaith he. If »ome foul slus In 

hi-^ pru'ii . I. i.iM I Ml, fill. .■ he will ca*t away, and sorefonns. 
If oiiii.»i(.ri ui* ^1-1 .luii.-i molest him, he will' hear bettor, and 
buy mme good prnrer book, and pmy of^encr. An<l if he liii 
{MTtuaili^l such a man in a very man, then he will itrivu 
to do as lie doiti : and now lie is ijuieted. 

When ho hath atluined nnio this pitch of his own. now he 
think* himself a young l^eginner, nnd a good one loo ; im> that If 
he dieth, he thinks he siuUI do wrrti ; if he livnlh, he tliinks and 
hope* he ihuU grow better : and when he is come to bis own 

pitch, he hero sets down his staff, as fully satisfied. And now,i 
lie be pressed to get into tbe estate of p^ftce, his answer ig, 
[That is not to be done now: he Umnlis God that care is past. 
J The truth is (beloved) it is loo high for him ; his own legs could 

V never carry him thilhcr, all his grace coming bj bis ov^ working, 
not by God Ahnightj's power. Let a man have false weights, 
he is eheated grierously with light gold. Why ? Because his 
weights are too light, so these men have too light weights lo judge 
of the weight of true grace; thcreforclight, dipped, cracked pieces 
cheat them. Hence you Bhaii have tlKise tneu cominend pithless, 
sapless men, for very honest men as ever break bread. Why ? 
They are just answerable lo their weights. Hence I havenotmuch 
wondered at them who maintain that a man may fall away from 
true grace ; the reason lieth here : They set up to themselves 
such a common work of grace to be true grace, from which no 
wonder tliat a man may fall. Hence Btillarmine sailh. That 
which is true grace, veritiite euenlia, only, may be lost ; not Ihal 
grace which is true, veritide firma toUdilatii, which latter, being 
rightly understood, may be called special grace, as the other com- 
mon grace. Hence also you shall have many professors hearing 
a hundred sermons never moved to grow better. Hence likewise 

■ you shall see our common preachers comfort every one, almost, 
that they see troubled in mind, because they think presently, they 
have (rue grace, now they begin to be sorrowlui for their sins. 
It K just according to their own light weights. 

I For the Lord's sake take heed of tliis deceit. True grace (I 
tell you) it is a rare pearl, a glorious sun clouded from the eyes 
of all but them that have il, (Hev. ii. 17 ;) a strange, admirable, 
almighty work of God upon the soul, which no created power 
can produce ; as far different, in the least measure of it, from the 
highest degree of common grace, as a devil is from an angel ; for 

' it is Christ living, breathing, reigning, lighting, conquering in 

the eoul. Down, therefore, with your idol grace, your idol hon- 

I esty ; true grace never alms at a pitch ; it aspires only lo per- 

Ifeglion. (Phil. iii. 12, 13.) And therefore Chrysostom calls St. 

T*aiil intatitAilii Dei cultor — a greedy, insatiable ^oishiper of 

the Lord Almighty. " - ^j i , , ■ . , 

Seventhly. The unders landing's error is another cnu=e of 

^J man'i ruin. And that i< seen principally in iheoe five things, 

theMJ Hve error* or Iklse coni-.ils! — 

First. In judging some imuhle of mind, some light sorrow 

I for sin, to be true repeniance; and so, thinking they do repent, 
hope they sbull be saved. For sin i» like sweet poison ; while % 
man is drinking it down by committing it, thei« is much pleaanHIl 



in it ; but after the committing of it, there is a siing in jt. (Ptot. 
xxiii. 31. 32;) then the time comelh when tbia poison works, 
making the heart swell with grief; sorry Ihej are at the heart, 
tbej say, for it ; and the eyes drop, and the man that commil- 
ted sin with great delight now cries out with grief in the bit- 
terness of his soul, O that I. beast that I am, hod never 
committed it ! Lord, mercy, mercy I (Prov. v. 3, 4, 11, 13.) Nay, 
it may be they will fast, and bumble and afflict their souls 
voluntarily for sin ; and now they think they have repented, 
(Is. Ivlii. 3,) and hereupon when they hear that all that sin shall 
die, they grant (his is true inde«d, except a man repent, and so 
they tbink they have done already. This is true ;{ at what lime 
soever a sinner repents, the Lord will blot out bis Iniquity : but . 
this repentance is not when a mim is troubled somewhat in mind 
for sin, but when he comelh to mourn for sin as bis greatest 1 
evil, and if he should see all bis goods and estate on a light tire | 
before him ; and that not for some sins, but all sins^ little.^ 
great ; and that not for a time, for a fit and away, ^a land floo 
BT sorrow,) but always like a spring never dry, but ever ninning 


s lifeiin 

Secondly. In judging the striving of conscience against si 
to be the striving of the flesh a^in$l Ihe spirit.; and hence come 
these speeches from carnal black mouths ; the spirit is willing, 
but the flesh is weak. And hence men think, they, being thus 
compounded of ftesh and spirit, are regenerate., and in no worse 
estate than the children of God themselves. As sometime I < 
once spake with a man, that did verily tbink that Pilate was an 
honest man, because he was so unwilling to crucify Christ; 
which unwillingness did arise only from ihe restraint of con- 
scieiii.-« against the facl- So, many men judge honestly, yet sim- 
ply, upon such a ground of iheraselves ; they say, they strive 
against iheir sins, but. Lortl be merciful unio them, they say, the 
flesh is frail. And hence Arminius gives a diverae inlerprela- 
lion of (be seventh chapter to tbe Romana from ordinary 
divines ; concerning which Paul speaks in ibe person of an unre- 
gcneraie man, t>ecause he observed divers graceless persons (as 
he saitb himself) having fallen, and falling commonly inl 
against conscience, to bring Ibal chapter in their own defense 
and comfort, because they did that which tliey allowed not, 
(vor. 15,) and so it was not they, but sin that dwelled in them. 

And M] many among us know ihey should be better, and strive 
Uukt tber may grow betier, but, Ihruugfa ibe power of sin, can 
not ; conscience tvlls them they must tiot sin, iheir heart* and 
lusls say they must sin ; and here, forsooth, b flush and i 

■s togctber; wliicll" ' 


0, no, liei'c is consriencc mul lii^i only by llie ei 

striving, Herod, Balaam, PUale, or lb»t vUce 

world may hiivc. ^ Suvh ii wur arguttth nol 

lieart, but rather inure strength of corrnjiliui , 

of sin in ihB heurt ; as it is no wonder if a horse run away wiien 

ho ia loose : but nlion his bit and his bridle are in hie mouth. 

Sow to be wild, argucih he ia altogether tintamed and subdued. 
.'nke herd, ihercfure. of judging your estate lo he good, because 
of aomo backwardne.^s of jour hearts to comniit some eins, though 
little sins ; for ihv siiM may bo, and it is most certain are, more 
powerftd In thcc than in others ihal have not the like strag- 
glings, because they have not enrh checks as thou hast to restrain 
Ihec. Know, therefore, thiit the striving of the sjiirit against tho 
fleah is aptinst yin beeuuse ■ ' '« f'" •- ns a man hales a toad, though 
IK IW never poisoned by lt;rmit Ilic striving of rliy conscience 
agckinst $in is only agaiust sin because it is h tmiihiing nr a 
ll dauiniiij^ sin. The striving of the a|iirit against the flesh is from 
1^ iTTJtwIly" kitr.!d of sin. (Rom. vii. 15,) But thy striving of 
)| I'll n,' civ lie.' ugninet sin is only from a fear of the danger of Bin. 
Fur ISiiliiiini haii a mind lo eiirsc the Israelites, for his money's 
Bake 1 but if he might have hud a liouse full of silver and gold, 
(which is a gooiUy thing in n covetous eye.) it is said, he durst 
uot curse them. / 

TbtKlly. In judging of the sincerity of the heart, by some 
Vs'>Pd affection in the heart. Hence roivny a deluded soul reasons 
Uifu^iseout thus with himself: Either I must be a profane man, or 
a byjioerile. or an upright mait. Not profane, I thank God ; for 
I art 111)1 K'l'P" lo whoring, drinking, oppression, swearing; nor 
lij|.c"'rjii-, tl>r I hale these uliows, 1 can not endure to appear bct- 
ii-i' iviilioi^i thiin I am within ; Iherelhre I am uprighL Why ? 
(), ln'cniisi; my hiiart is good? my atfi-'clions and desires within 
are licticr ilian my life without i and whatever oiliers judge of 
me, 1 know mine own heart, and the heai'l is all that God desires. 
And thus they fool themselves. (Pniv. xsviii. 26.) This is one 
of ihc gj'pniest <'anses and )^roimds of mislnke amun; ' 
that tliink Itest of theni-'i'lves ; thry are not ulile to put 
enee between the good de>ires and strong afl'ectiuns that 
frutif the love of Jesus Christ. 
~ .Silf-lovc will make a miui seok his own good and safe^ 
hence it will pull a man oul of his bed kctimeH in th< 
and call him u[i lo pray ; it will take hint and carry hi 
chamber toward evening, ajul there privately make him 
and- pray, and tug hard for |>iirdon, for Chriist. lur mercy : 
■ i m of tliis bread ! But the loi-e uf Christ i 


s man desire Chrj st and hie honor for himself, and all otherl 
thi nya for C hrist. It is true, tbt: desires of M>ns in Christ hj\ 
faith are accepted ever; but the desires of servants, men that] 
work only for their wages out of Christ, are not. j^ 

Fourlhlj'. In judging of God's love lo theni; by aiming Bome-. -■ 
times at the glory of God. Is this possible, Iliat a man should' 
aim at God's glory, and yet perish? Yea, and ordinarily too : 
B man may be liberal to the poor, maintain the ministry, be for- 
wanl and stand for good things, whence he may not doubt but 
ihnt Go<l loves hiro : but here is the difference — though a wicked 
man may make God's glory in some particular things his end, 
yet he never makes it, in his general course, his utmost ^nd. last 
end. A subtle apprentice may do all his mflstc/s work, hut he 
may take the g^n to himself, or divide it betwixt his master and 
himself, and so may be but a knave, as observant as he seems to 
btt: so a subtle heart (yet a villainous heart) may forsake all 
the world, as Judas did, may bind himself apprentice lo all the 
duties Giod requires outwardly at his hands, and so do good 
works; but what is his last end? It is that he might gain 
resjiect or place, or that Christ may have some part of the glory, 
and he another. tSimon Magus would give any money some- 
times tliat lie could pray so well, know so much, and do ns others 
do: and yet his last_end is farJiJmself : hut "how can you believe, 
if you seek noi that glory that comes from God?" saith Christ, 
There is many seek the honor of Christ ; but do you seek his 
honor only ? Is it your last end, where you rest and seek no 
more but Ibat? If thou woutdeat know whether thou makest 
Christ's glory thy last end, observe this rule : — 

If thou art more grieved for the eclipse of ihine own honor, 
and fur thine own losses, than for the loss of God's honor, it is 
•D evident sign thou lovesl it not, dcsirc^t it not as iliy chitifest 
good^^MJlm hwl end, for thy iMmimum' SoHum, and therefore 
dMinot seek God's honor in the prime and chiefest place. Sin 
troubled Paul more than all the plagues and miseries of (he 
world. Indeed, if thy name be dashed with disgrace, and thy 
will be eroded, thy heart is grieved and disi^iiieled : hut the 
liord may lose his honor daily by thine own sins, and those that 
be round about thee, but not a tear, not a sigh, not a groan to 
behold such a speclacic : as sure as the Ix>rd lives, iliou seekest 

t the Lord's name or honor as ihy greatest (food. 

Fifthly. In judging the power of sin to beJtuLiBfirioilyj for 
If ally thing trouble an unregenerste man, and makes him call ' 
Ua esiftie Into question, it is sin. either in tlie being or power of 
ll. Now, sin ill the being ought not, must not. make a man 
^fKttioa hid estate, because the best have that left in them that 


will liiiniblu lliom. and make them live by faith ; Ihereft 
power of sin only ciin jiiailv' thus trouble a man. Now, it a 
man do judge of Iliis to be only but infirmity, whicb the best arc 
compassedjiboiil witlial, be can not but lie down securely and Ibink 
hiraself well. And if ibis error be seltlcd in one thai lives ' 
' one known sin, it \a very difficult to remove ; for let the mil 
cnst the spiirks of hell in their faces, and denounire the terror 
God against tbem, they are never alirred. Why ? Because tha] 
tliitik. Here is for you thai tive in ain, but as for thcmselvHi,' 
sltbough they have sina, yet tbey strive against them, and eo 
eon not leave lliem ; for vrn must have gin as long as we live 

Ihere, they say. Now, mark it, there is no surer sign of a man 
under the bloody reign and dominion of bis luats and sins, ibim 
this — that is, to give way to sin, (though never so litllc and com- 
mon,) nor to be greatly troubled for sin, (for they may be n little 
troubled,) because they can not overcome sin. I deny not but th e 
bi' sl do sin da ily ; yet (his is the disposition of " Paul, and every 
child of (iod — be moumelh not the less, but the more for sins; 
though lie can not quite subdue tbem, cast ihem out, and over- 
come them. As a prisoner mourns the more that he is bound 
with such fetters he can not break, ao doth every one truly sensi- 
ble of his woful captivity by sin. This is the great difference 
between a. t^ging sin a man will part withal, and a sin of in- 
firmity a man can not part withal : a sin of inlirmity is such a 
sin as a man would, but can not part with it, and hence he 
mourns the more for it ; a raging sin ia such a sin as a man, 
haply by virtue of his lashing conscience, would sometimes part 
wilhal, but c-iin not, and hence mourns the less for it. Bud gives 
way to it. Now, for the Lord's sake, l«ke heed of this deceit ; 
for I tell you, those sins you can not part withal, if you groan 
not day and nighl under ibcm, (saying, Lord, help mc, for I 
am weary of myself and my life,) will certaiidy undo you. You 
'say, you can not but speak idly, and think vainly, and do ill, 
as nil do sometimes ; I tell you, those sins shall be everlasting 
chains io hold you fast in the power of the devil, until liie 
judgment of the great day.^- 

And thus much of the understanding's corruption, whereby 
men are commonly deluded. Now foUoweth the second. 

Secondly. In regard of tlie false, bastard peace begot in the 
consejence. Why should the camp tremble when scouts are 
asleep '( or give false report when the enemies are near tbeni ? 
Most men think they are in a safe estate, liecause they wore 
never in a troubled e^lale ; or if they have been troubled, because 
'lave got some peace and comfort after ii. , Now, this ftdt 
is begot in the heart by these tour meaua ; — 


1. By Sal.'Ui. 

2. By false icachers. 
S. By a (ulie epiriL 

4. By a false application of true promiaes. 
I. By Satan, whose kiiigJotu sliiill fall if it should be dividod, 

snd be always m a combustion ; hence b« laboi^lh for peace. 
(Luke xi. 24,) "When the strong uao keeiji^lh the palara, his 
gonia are in pence ; " ihnt is, when Satan, armed with abundance 
of diitU and jCarnaT reasonings, possesselh men's souls, tliey 
art! at pcai.'e.wNow, look as masters give tlicir servants ]>enw, 
evrii to the dcTit — "^* • - .. 

1. By removing all thin^ that may trouble them; and. — v 
'2. By giving unlo ihcm all things that may quiet and com* j 
fort tliem, as meal, drink, rest, lodging, kc^ ho doth Satan deid '' 
witli bis slaves and servants. 

First. By removing those sin* which trouble the conscience ; 
for n man may live in a sin, and yt^t never tx; troubled for tliat 
sin ; for siu ugninat the Hght of eonacience only Iroublee the Colt- 
science. As children thiit are tumbling and playing in the dustf 
ibi.'y are not troubled with all tb'f dust, nay, they take pleasure 
lo wallow in its but only with that (whether it be small or greM) 
tlint lights in their eyes. And hence that young man came 
boMsting to Christ that he had kept all the commundment« from 
bis youth ; but went sway mirrowful, becuuse that dust, tliut sin 
be lived in with delij^ht bufore, fell into his eyes, and iliercforo 
be was tronbled. Now, mark the plot of the devil, when hs can 
nuike » man live, and wallow, niid delight in his sinsi, and so 
wrvc himi (uid yul wilt not suffer him U> live in any sin ngninal 
cuuHJeucv, whereby he should be troubled, and so seek li> vomt 
out of lliis woful estate, he is sure this mou is his own ; and now 
• poor dchidnd man hitnxelf goos up and down, not doubling 
Lur he *h;ill be siivi-d. Why? Bccn aso tljc ir con-icirn ce (they 
Ilwnk CkI) is cluir, un<l ihry kiBW tj mi otII! SllU Mlty Tn'e Tfr " 

tliey know nr>ttilBg'py;» r ' imt 'tirti i l i.t r ti n ty in;A~Uieii 
B fu^p<-.t iTicir estaie""is lindT'OIiiit. is- 13.) "I came n<ii lo 
(1)11 llle rigbirons, but sinners, to lepcnlance;" ihiit in, sueh a 
oni: 0* in his own opinion ij listi- whole ; every sin buing u child 
of God's aiokiieM, he is never without some kind of sorrow ; hut 
«ume •ins only being b natural luun'x siekneis. ibey being re- 
aovedi ho recovers out of his formor »<irrow, and grows well 
•gnir., and thinks himself Miuiid : the. Loid .K-sus never cninc lu 
■ave such, thnri'loru K^itiin ki^ps |N)KSt!!Uiion nf ttiem. For ihn 
Lord's soke, look lo this subtlety : many tliink themselves in a 
I eaUt^ beouue they knuw not the partivular sin they live 


THE anrcBSE 

in ; whereas Kulan may have stronger possession of such i 
are bounil with his inviiiibie fellers and ctinins, when ihose that 
have their pinching boiu on them may sooner eacupe^ 

Secondly. By giving ihe soul liberty to recreate itself in any 
flinful cour»ie, wberein the eye of com<cieDc« may not be prioked 
will wounded. Servants, when tbey are put always lo work, 
and never can go abroad, are weary both of work and master; 
that tnasier pleaseCh ttiem Ihitt givelh tbem moat lil^crty. To be 
pent up all the day long in doing God's work, watching, praying, 
Ijlgfaling against every sin, this is a burden, this is loo strici ; 

' because that tliey can not endure il, ihcy think ibc Lord looks 
for it at their hands. Now, Satan gives men liberty in their 
rfliaful courses ; and tliis liberty begets peace, and this peace 
/makes them think well of themselves. (2 PeU ii. 19.) There are 
many rotlen professors in these days, that, indeed, will not open 
their mouths against the sincere-hearted people of God ; yet they 
walk loosely, and take too much liberty in their speeches, liberty 
in their thoughts, liberty in their desires and delights, liberty in 
their company, in their pastimes, and that sometimes under a 
pretense ol' Christian liberty ; and never trouble themselves with 
these needless controversies : To what end, or in what manner, 
do I use these things? Whereas the righteous man feorcth 
alway, considering there is a snare for him in every lawful 
lilMirty : May not I sin in my mirth, in my speaking, in my 
sleeping ? O, this liberty that the devil gives, and the world 
takes, besots most men with a foolish opinion that all is well 
with them. 

Thirdly. By giving the soul good diet, meat and drink 
enough, what dish he likes best. Let a master give liberty, 
yel his servant is not "pleased, unless he have meat, and drink, 
and food; so there is no wicked man under heaven, but as he 
takes too much liberty in the use of lawful things, so he feedeth 
his heart with some unlawful secret lust, though all the time he 
live in it, it may be, it is unknown to him. (Luke xvi.) Dive« 
had his dish, his good things, and so song himself usieep, and 
bade his soul lake his ease and rest ; yea, observe this : diet is 
poisontd in itself, but ever commended to the soul as wholesome, 
good, and lawful. They christen sin vtiih a new name, as f>o])eB 
are at their election; if he be bad, they call him sometimes Pius ; 
if». coward, Leo, etc. So covetonsoess isguod- husltundry ; com- 
■keeping, good neighborhood ; lying lo save their credit 
cracking, but a handsome excuse ; and hence the soul goes 
ibly on, and believes he is in a good estate. 

Fourthly. By giving the soul rest and sleep, that is, -nnwrn 



aometimes from the ad of sin ; hence Iliey are hardly per- 
Buoded ihat ihey live in sin, beraiuse they oen.-ie sometimes from 
Ibe BCt o( Ma ; as no man dolh always swear, nor U lie alwaya 
drunk, nor always angry. They think only their falls, in these 
or the like sins, are slips and falls whii?h the best men may have 
•ometiraes, and yet be a dear child af God. 0. Satan will not 
always set men ax his work ; for if men should always have 
their cups in their hands, and their qneans in their arms ; if u 
eovelous man should always root in the earth, and nerer pray, 
Bever have good Ihoiighta, never keep any Sabbath; if a man 
ahoulil always speak idly, and never good word drop from him, 
a man's conscience would never be quiet, but shaking him up for 
what be dolh; but' by giving him respite for sinning for a lime, 
SalAn getteth stronger possession allerward; as Malt. xii. 43. 
When the unclean spirit i» gone nut of a man, it returns wor«e. 
Samson's strength always remained, and so do[h sin's strength 
in a natural man, but it never appears until temptation come.' 

Kiftlily. Bygivingihesoulfa^r promise)' of heavgn and eternal V 
Ufe, and fastening them upon theneart. M»it men are confident 
their estate is good ; and though God kills them, yet will they 
trust in him, and can not be beaten from this. Why? O, 
Satan bewiicheth ihem ; for as he told Evah by the serpent, she 
■hould not die, so doth he insinuate his persuasions to the soul, 
though it live in sin, he shall not die, but do well enough as the 
preciseeL Satan gives thus good words, but woful wages — the . . 
eternal llashcs of hell. X J 

II- Bj. false teachers, who, partly by their loose examples,^ ■ 
partly by tlieTr flallering doctrines in public, and iheir large 
ferity in private, daubing up every one, (especially he tbskt u 
• good friend unto them.) for honest and religious people ; and 
If they be but a little troubled, applying comfort presently, and 
BO healing (hem that should be wounded, and not telling ihem 
Toundly of their Merodias, as John Baptist did Herod. Here- 
upon tbcy judge themseh'es honest, because the minister will giv« 
ihem the beggarly passport j and so they go out of the worid, and 
4ie like lambs, wofully cheated. (Matt. xxiv. II.) Look abroad 
In the world and see what is the reason to many feed their 
heart with confidence they shall be saved, yet their lives eon- 
i4emn ihem, and their hearts acquit them. The reason is, such 
snd such a minister will go to the alehouse, and he never praya 
Id his family, and he is none of these precise, hot people, and yet 
■s honest a man as ever lives, and a good divine, loo. Alinb w 
aiierably cheated by four hundred false prophets. Whilst the 
' lifter is of a loose life himaelf, he will wink at others and. , 

TOl. L 8 

86 THE S[\Ci:[{l^ CONVEHT. 

their fiiulls, lest in reproving olhers he ghoulil condemn him- 
self, and others should ^ay uoto him, "Phyeieittn, lit^al ihjselt'." 
Thieves of the same comjmny will not steal from one another, 
teat thev trouble thereby themselves. And hence they give 
oth(;re Talse uurda to sail hy, false rules to live by : their uncon- 
ecionable large charily is like a gulf that swiilloweth ships, 
(souls I mean.) tosse<l with tcmpeBts and not coniforied. (Is, 
liv. 7, 8.) And hence all being fisb that coraeth to their net, all 
men Ibiok so uf Mietnselrea. 

lUVVvt false spiiit. This ia a third rause thnl begets a false 
peace. As there is a true " Spirit that wiinesseih to our spirits 
tltat we are the sons of God," (Boin, viii. 15,) so there is a false 
spirit, just liite the true one, witnessing that they are llie sons of 
Uod. (1 -Tohn iv. 1.) We are bid to try the spirits. Now, ifiheiie 
spirits were not like God's true Spirit, what need trial? As, 
what need one try whether dirt be gold, which are so unlike each 
other ? And this spirit 1 take to be set down, Matt. xxiv. 2S. 
Now, look as the truQ^pirit wilnesseth, so the false spirit, being 
like it, witnessethtalso?^ 

First. The Spirit of Ood humbles the soul ; so before men have 
the wilnesB of the false spfrtl, Ihey'ure mightily east down and 
deeded in spirit, and hereupon they pray for vobk, and purpose 
to lead new lives, and cast away the weapons, and submit. 

Secondly, The Spirit of God in the gospel reveals Jesus Christ 
and Lis willingness to save ; so the false spirit diseovereth Christ's 
' eicellency. and willingness to receive him, if he will but come 
in. It fareth with this soul as with surveyors of landu, llial lake 
ftn exact compos of other men's grounds, of which tbcy shall 
never enjoy a fool. So did Balaam. (Num. xiiv. 5, 6.) .This 
false Bpirit showeih them tht glory of heaven and God's people. 

Thirdly. Hereupon (he soul comelh to be affected, and to taste 
the goodness and sweetness of Jesus Christ, as those did, (Hub. 
vi. ;) and the soul breaks cut into a passionate admiration : 
that ever there should bo an.y hope for such a vile wretch as I 
am, and have been ! and so joys exceedingly, liko a man half 
way rapt up into heaven. 

Fourlhly, Hereupon the soul, being comforted oficr it was 
wounded, now calleih God my God, and Christ my swi;et Saviour ; 

/aodnowitdoubisuot but ilshallbcsaved. Whyi* Bccauselhave 
received mueh cnmjViri after mm -h s orrow and doubling . (IIos. viii. 
•Si 8 ;) Itlld j^rTemains n dcliidei^ miseralile creature stilL But 
here mark the difference between the witness of each spiriu The 
J false spirit makes a uiaii believe he is in the slate of grace, 




•hnll Iw savpd. because he hnlh Insteil of Christ, and so hath 
^tleen c-ooifurted. anU ihut iibuntliinrly. But the true Spirit^r- 
•nadea a man his e«1at«! is "mkI Hnd safe, hvcause he Iialh not 
i«nlj lasted, but bought this C 'brJgi. in the wise menrhant in the 
p*|>eU Ihal^Jo'iced HB BIT louiiJl the jjearl. but yet slays twt 
here, but selU away all, and buys the peart. Like two chapmen 
tiiat cotne to buy wine ; the one ta§Ic« it, nnd gorih avrny iiT a 
^niDken fit, and m concludes it is hU ; so a man duth, that hath 
faliie spirit; but the trae-!tpiril(^ man do[li not only lusie, but 
bays the wine, although he doth not drink i( all down when he 
Minelh to taste it ; yet he having been incited by tasting to buy it, 
he calU it bis own. 80 a child of God tasting a little of 
God, and a little of Christ, and a little of the promiscA at hb first 
ersion, although hn tastes not nil the i-weetnei<fi thiit is in God. 
jei he forwikes all for God, for Christ, and so takes them lawfully 
la his own. 

' Again : the false spirit, having given a man comfort itnd 
pencT, suft'ei^ a ma n to rest in tliat slatej but the true Spirit* * 
Bavin): made the soul taste tlie love of the Lord, siirreih uji th« 
■oul lo do and work mighlily for the Lord. Now the Mill crittlh J 
out. What shall ]l~Ao for Clmsi^ ihalTuih done wondfrrs for me? 
f every hair on my head were a tongue to s[ieak of his good- . 
ess, it were too Utile. (Neb. viii. 10,) " The joy of the Lord » 
sur atrengtb," (Ps, li..l2,) "Upboid mc with thy free spirit;" 
•tr, tu the Cbaldeoa paraphrase hath it, thy '-kingly spirit;" the 
ffirit of adoption in God's child is no underling, suffering men 
to lie down, and cry. My desires are good, but flc^b is frail. No, 
it ie M kingly spirit, ibnt reigns where it livetb. 

IV, Fnlse applying of true protnises is the luiit cause of fulne ), 
' peace. Antt Vffi^ll a iinui lisih God's Spirit within, and God's 
I haod and promii^e (as he thinks) for bU estate, now he thinks all 
I aafr. This did the Jews ; tbey saJd, ■' >Ve bavo Abraham to on 
Pntber;" and so reputed ihcmselvf^H »afe, Ctod having mode then 
>yromise, " I will be a God nf thee and of tliy seed." Itut here is 
;» different^ between n child of God's applieiition of Ibem and a 
.vicked man's. The first applieth them so lo bim, as ihni hsy 
Itveih upon them, and nothing but tbem; and to whom dnth the 
liing belting, but lo the child thai lives upon it? The other Itv 
'minn )iielusta,and creatures, and yet cateheth hold on the promise. L 

By tbeie four meiuis is begot a batitanl. fiilse |>eHec 

Tliua much of the geennd cause of loan's doeeiving himself — ^ 
/Aw peace in the conscience- 

Now followelh tbc thinl. 

IIL The corruptions and disliMnpera of the will, which i» the 



third cause why men deceive themselves ; which are maay. 
will only name three. i - "l i 

Firsts When the will is resolved to go on in a Rinful courea». 
■ ani then seta the understanding a-tvork to defe nd it. Whence it' 
fareth with the soul as with a man that'l'U!I1Dlli"lo search for 
stolen goods, who, having received a bribe beforehand, searcheth 
every where but where it i», and so Ibe man is never found onk 
to be what he is. So a man having tasted the aweetness of ft: 
sinful course, (which pleasure bribes him,) he is contented to 
search into every comer of bis heart, and to try himself, as many 
do, escept there where his darling luat lies ; he sits upon that, 
and covers it willingly from hb own eyes, as Rachel did upon 
stolen gods, and so never finds out himself. (John iii. 20,) A 
man that hath a mind to sleep quietly, will cause the cnrtaina 
to be drawn, and will let some light come in, but sbuts out all 
that, or so much as may hinder him from sleeping ; so a man, 
having a mind to sleep in some particular sinful course at bia 
ease, will search himself, and let some light come into his mind. 

And hence many profane persons, that know much, (their 
opinions arc orthodox, their discourse savory,) yet do they knoT 
little of themselves, and of those sins and lusts that haunt them, 
which they must part with ; because this light troubleth them, it 
binders them from sleeping in their secure estate, and therefore 
I they draw the curtain here. Hence many men, that live in 
fhioae sins of the grossest usury, fliiding the gain, and tasting the 
sweet of that sin, will read all books, go to all those ministers 
they suppose that hold it lawful, and so pick up and gather, 
reasons to defend the lawfulness of the sin, and so, liecause they 
would not have it to be a sin, find out reasons whereby they 
Ihink it no sin; but the bollom is this — Iheir will hath got the 
bribe, and now the understanding plays the lawyer ; and hence 
men live in the most crying sins, and are sure to perish, becauaa 
they will not know they are in an error. 

Secondly . When the will sets the understanding a-work 
tenuale and lessen sin ; for many, when they see their sii 
make it small by looking at the false end of ihcir optic glaM t ■ 
they think such small matters never make any breach between 
the Lord and their souls. Hence they say. The best man sins 
seven times a day ; and who can say. My heart is clean? What 
is the reason that a child of God hath Utile peace, many times 
after commission of small sins ? 0, it is because they see the 
horrible nature of the least sin ; small wrongs against so dear, so 
great a friend as the Lord is, it cuts tlieir hearts ; yet a carnal 
^beart is never troubled for great sins, because they make a light 
matter of them. 





Thirdly, Willful ign<'rao''c of ihc hori-ililg writtj) i^f flml. 

U«nre niiTi riidi on in sin a*' ffift MriiH friTKTft hnltlp. Honiw ^ 
men never li-nr Ili'nr t'»tnie«. because ihey kimw not Gtxl's wnUh 
hanging ever tli«ln. Coldest snnlLp.ii, wlicii lliey ari^ frozen vi 
colli, ncvur stin^ nor hurt ; one may trarry n nest of ttium in 
boKom ; but bring ihrm to the Hiv, then ihny hi^a riii] etiiig: so 
sin. when it is brotiglit nrar God'it wrntli. (that lievou ring flre,) it 
tnnkvs men vxy out ol' I he rose Ives. Then I am uiiitone ! 0. 1 nm^ 
a lo^l cTttaturel Itnt being not llius libiiled, »in never mitkiu a 
man crj out uf himself. 

Tb«i*e ore iho chiisfs why mrn are ignorant of their woful, 
Btitcralile eatat<^; wbi(;b iginorani^n i.4 the first rorJc, or ibe fir«t 
powder pint, that spoils thnusanOa. 

Yt't tliere are ibn-C more dtlngeraus, beainae more iiecret. 
Now fulluvreih the second reason of riuu'h ruin. By ren 
imui'* t-arnul securllj . whpniby men enn not be ftfTeclpd with, _ 
r so mucF^sTWWTwiri* to desire to eomu out of tlipir miKarjr ' 
ji:n tbey know it; for, if a miiti'a mind understand bis mieiirj', 
yet if the heart be bard or ek-vpy, and not alfeeied, loadea^ 
wounded, bumbled, and ninde to gruan under it, he will never 
greatly care lo come out of it. (I». xxix. 9, ]0.) Now. this it 
.the estate of many a aouli he dolb know bis misery, but by rea- 
son of the sleepy, srcure, sciMmless E|>irit of slumber, be never 
fceb it, niw mottms nmler it, and so comna not out of it. 
Now th* reasons of ibis security are these: — 
Becttuae God pours not out tiie full measure of hia wrulh uiwn ' 
men, be«tu»e- he kindW not the pile of wrnlb ihai lies npon 
men, it is rpserved, and concealed, not revealed from lIcHven ; 
nnd so long, let God frown, ministers threHii-ti, and smaller judg- 
ments drop, yet iliey will never welt slielter in -lesus Cbrisl, 
but sleep in ibeir sins, until Ouil raiu down floods of horror, 
Mood, Qrc ; until God's arraws (-lick in men's hearts, tbry will 
nrwsiwk om of ihemsi'lTes unto Jcaus Christ, (I-k^. viiL 11.) 
.So long ns God's pisgues were ujxm Pbornob, hu givetb fnir 
words, nnd Mtues must be sunt to pruy for him ; but when God'< 
luind is taken away, now Fbaraub's heart is hardened : so lunj; 
MS <io<r4 swiird 14 in bis scabbard, men hRvn such stout heans 
that they will never yield : God mui't wnund, and eni doep, And 
Btnlii. and ilitn*t to ilie very licATt, else men will never yield, 
never awaken, till Gwi's fists Iki tibuut men's ears, and he is dn^> 
gin!: them lo ihc stake-, meu will never awake and cry for » 
jianbin and delivenmce of tlieir woful eslnle. 

Secondly, id rause if they do in jHirt frcl, and so foar God** 
wnuii, llity put nniiy the evil dny fur from ibem : tlmy bopo 


ibrj shall do better herenfter. and repent some other tune, 
therefore they gay, Soul, eat, drink, follow ihy sports, 
queans ; ihou hast a treasure of time which shall not be npt 
inaijy years, (la. xsii. 12, 13;) that look as it is wiih the 
let it be of never so pliable a disposition, and the tire never so 
hot, yet if it be not brought near the fire, and be held in the Bre, 
it never melts, but still remains hard ; so it is here. Let o man 
or woman have never so gentle or pliable a nature, and let God's 
wrath be never so hot and dreadful in their judgment?, yel if 
they make not ihe dny of wrath present to them, if they see il 
not ready every moment to light upon their hearts, they are 
never melted, but they remain ha rd hear te d , secure , aleem r 
wretches, and never groan to coffie OUl of ilieir wotui estafi^ 
Biliniffiris Ihe reason why many men. that have guilty con- 
Bciences, though they have many secret wishes and purposes to 
he better, yet never ery out of themselves, nor ever seek eai* 
neatly for mercy, till they lie upon their death beds ; and thea,, 
O the promises they ply God with ! Try me. Lord, and ra^ 
store me once more to my health and life again, and thou shkit 
Bee how thankful I will be ! because that now they apprehend 
wrath and misery near unto them. (Heb. iii. 13.) 

Thirdly. Because they think they ca n bear God's wratli, 
though they do conceive it near at hand, even ul Ihe very doultp 
men think not that hell is so hot, nor the devil so black, nor God. 
BO terrible as indeed he is. And hence we sljati observe th^.. 
prophets present God's wrath aa a thing intolerable before th* 
eyes of the people, that thereby they might quench all thosa 
cursed conceits of being able to bear God's wrath. (Nabum i. 9.) 
And hence we shall have many men desperately conclude they 
will have their swing in sin, and if they perish, ihey hope they 
shall be able to bear it ; it is but a damning they think, and 
hence they go on securely. O, poor wretches I the devil scares 
and fears all the world, and at God's wrath the devils quake, and 
yet secure men fear it not, they think hell is not so terrible a place- 
Fourthly. Because they know no better an estate. Hence, 
though they feel their woful and miserable condition, yet th^ _ 
desire not to come out of it. Although men find hard lodging, ■ 
in the world, hard times, hard friends, hard hearts, yet ihey " 
make a shift with wliat they find in (his miserable inn, until they 
come to hell ; lor such a man, pursued by outward miseries, or 
inward troubles, there stays ; O, miserable man. that makes shifl 
till he come to liell 1 They may hear of the happy estate of 
God's people, but not knowing of it experimentally, tliey stay I 
where they are. (Job iv. 14.) 



Take a prince's child, and bring it up in 
place, it nerer aspires after a kingdui 
in thiii world, knowing no belter an estate, never cast about them 
to get a belter intieritance than that ihej seramble for here. 
Wives mourn for the lon^ absence of their beloved husbands, 
because they know them and their worth. God may absent 
himself from men weeks, months, years, but men shed not one 
tear for it, because they never tasted the Rweetness of his pres- 
ence. It is strange to see men take more content in iheir cupa 
and cards, pots and pipes, dogit and hawks, than in the fellowship 
of God and Cbrift, in word, in prayer, in meditation ; which or- 
dinances are burdens and prison unto them. What is the reason 
of it? Is there no more sweetness in the presence of God's 
smiling in Chrbt than in a filthy whore? Tes; but they know 
not the worth, sweetness, satisfying goodness of a God. Some 
■ea fish, (say they,) if once they come into fresh water, will neTer 
return again, because ihey now taste a difl'erence between ihoM 
brackish and sweet waters : so is it here ; if men did but once 
taste the happiness of God's people, they would not for a thou- 
■»nd worlds be one half hour in their wild, loose sea again. 

FiAhly. Because, if they do know a better estate, yet their 
present pleasure) , their sloth, doth so bewitch them, and God's 
denials, when tbey seek unto him, do so far discourage them, that 
they sleep still securely in that estate. A slotliful heart, be- 
witebed with present case, and pleasures, and delighb*, consider- 
ing many a tear, many a prayer must it ntnke, many a night 
must it break its sleep, many a weary step must it take towards 
beaven and Christ, if ever it come there, grows discouraged, and 
dcaded, and hard-hearted in a sleepy estate, and liad rather have 
a bird in the hand tlian two in Ihe bush; Israelites wished that 
Ihey were at their onions and garlic* again in Egypt. Was 
there no Canaan ? Yes ; but they wished so because there were 
walls built up to heaven, and giants, sons of Anak, in the land, dif- 
ficulties to overcome. O, slothful hearts ! Secondly. Becauott 
God sometimes put them lo straits, and denied ihem what the^ 
■ought for, they were of such a waspish, testy, sullen spirit, that, 
because the Lord had them not always on bis knees, rhey would 
run away ; so many a man meetd with sorrow enough in his sin- 
ful, dropsy, drunken estate : he bears of Heaven, and a better 
estate, yet why goes he lo his lusts and flesh pots again? O, 
biwBuw there arc so many difflculties, and blocks, and hinderanct:* 
in his way; and beeftuse^they pra^iuuLJnd not ease, therefore 
they rat, driuli, laugh, sport, and sleep in iheTr miserable estat* 
•till (Uatt. TtL 14.) Therefore men walk in the broad way. 



is slroil Hnii narrow [ it is a 
rk'l i tuen h«d railier sit almost ■ 
) lioar nt pmycr ; tni^n had nilln 
it Dut and run ilirougli the n 


because lite olIiLTway lo life 

I a burden, a [)ri:!{on, to b« »u f 
iiotir ii) Itie $lock» llian l)u t 
Im damnc-d itt Inst tlitiii sn'i-ai 
receive a trown ; aod lierTce 

Sixllilj. Because of the atraiigc. gtroo i 
bears that sway over men's souls iliat II 
pri«oncre eroop lo llifir jailers h» foldicrs that have taken Uieir 
jiny, their pleasure of sin, must follow it as their cji))Iain, ihou^ 
tbcy pi marcldng on lo eleninl ruin ; nay, though dontni^t ~ 
Bhonid lie to-morrow, yet they must and will 

m P°"' 

As ihe Sodomite*, when they were slnitten with blindness, whii 
tormented their eyes aa thou};h they hud been pi'iekcd wi 
tliorns, (for so the Hebrew word signilies,) even when deslnictii 
AjfM near, Ihey groped for the dtwr. Men can not bul 
« they perish for sin ; henne Ihey reniiiiii seeure. 
J Seventhly. Deapair of &id;sjHereiiJjfiiw^like Cain, 

■re renegades ftuiii the M'M lA Gud ; men think they Bhall n 
find mercy when all is done ; hence iliey grow deopenuely sin* 
t\i1 ; like iho^c Jtalian acnaior? , that, dei>|>airing of their livei^* 
when upon submission iney Dim been promised their lives, yet 
being conscioua uf their villainy, made a curious banquet, and a 
the «nd of it every man drank up his glass of poison, and kitlsi 
himself; so men feeling eucli horrible hard he«ris, and beit^ 
privy to such notorious sins, they enst an-ay lives, and heaven^ 
and soul for lost, and so perish wofully, because they lived deft* 
pemlely. and so securely. 

>!iii;li a blind, fals^ , ^MlK""gfr"H 
l.iii>win? ajid suspecting that aUa 
>.iine hope ihey may be in a goo4 

of God's inen- v^ Im 

naugTiTTMrtmii'm. m 

and rest in their (hit 
tlvHt selilon 

they lie down securelj 
hope. Hence ohserve, those peoplj 
lusion, to a point, that either they mi 
c of grace or out of it, that never come to be aflected 
but remain secure in their eondition, ihey commonly grow to tl 
desperate conclusion : that iliey hope God will be merciful unttt 
them i if not, they can not help it : like ihe man ihtit had on ti 
target the picture of God and tlie devil; under the lirsl 1 
wrote, Si tu nun via, if thou wilt not : under the other he 
^« rogilai, here is one will. 

}41nthly. Decausefmen bring not their hearts under the han 

illmer of God's word to ho broken, they never bring their oot 

'iBciencea to he cut. Hence they go on s'lill securely with fesiera 

conscieuees. Men put tlicmaetves above tlie word, luid lhui( 


hearts above the hammer/ they come not lo 

to bumble them, but lo judge of him. or lo pii^k some pretty 6Qfl/ 

Ihinf; out of the word, and so reiuain secure sols alt iheir days :l ' 

for if ever thy heart be broken, and thy conscience be awaked,! 

the word must do it ; but people an- an a>rnn>n-t|^ lil ^ p. that their l\J4 

hearts, like footpaths, grow IianI by the word. *^ - 

Tenthly. Because men i 
nor the horjjb le nature pf sin : men chew not tTese^pilla ; 
they never come to' be affected nor awakened. 

Awaken, therefore, all you secure crealures; feci your m isery, ^^i 
that so you may get out of it. Dost thou know thine estate ia 
naught, and that thy condemnation will be fearful, if ever thou 
dost perish? and is thine heart secretly secure, so damnably 
dead, so desperately hand, that thou hast no heart to come out 
of it? What ! no sigh, no tears ? Canst thou carry all thy sins 
upon thy back, like Samson the gales of the city, and make a 
tight matter of them ? Dost thou see hell Sre before thee, and 
yet wilt venture ? Art thou worse than a beast which we can not 
beat nor drii?e into the fire if there be any way to escape? O, 
get thy heart to lament and mourn under thy miseries ; who 
knows then but the Lord may pity thee ? But 0, bard heart 1 
Uiou canst mourn for losses anj crosses, burning of goods and 
houses, yet though God be lost, and his image burnt down, 


hejif how you do ; and if you n'ere humbled, we should have 
you in the bitterness of your spirit cry out, " What shall we 
do ? " But know it, thou must mourn here or in hell. If God 
broke Dnvid's bones for his adultery, and the angels' backs for 
their pride, the Lord, if ever he saves thee, will break thine 
heart too. 

Quetiion. But thou will say. How shall I do to get mioe heart 
sfleetcd with my misery ? 

Aniwer. 1. Take a full view of thy misery, 2. Take spe- 
CiJil notice of the Lonl's readiness and willingness to receive 
tbee yet unto mercy ; for two things harden the heart ; I. £^sfl 
hope, whereby a man hopes he is not so bad as indeed hei!r~ 
? T?T hiH>fi. whereby a mnn, when he sees himself so notoriously 
bad, thinks there is no willingness in the Lord to pardon o 
moiuter of men to mercy ; and, if neither the 



nicr can lirenk l!i_v ptony Iiearf, nor tfii? smiiiliiiip of i 

iT. llum liasl n hriirl worsp ihim llip devil, nnii ml h specincle 

the grealest misery, 1. In regard of sin. 2. In 

God's wratli. 

First. In regard of sin. Tliou IjaM sinned, nnd ihaf griei 
ouEly, a)fivini!t n grent God. Thou inakeei tio (,'n.-al roatler a 
Ibis : no ; but, Ihougb it bo nn load to Ibee, it is liuid. r 
Lard's heart, (In. i. 24,) and timu will coim- lie will inn] 
vliolt sinful world, by rivers of firo and blood, to know what a 
eril it in; for. — 

^1. In every ^n thou dost elrike God, and fiinj^ 
he heart of God. 2. In every sin thou do^t fpile ngnintit Godt!| 
for, if .there were but one only thing wherein a mi 
his friend a displeasure, was not here spite Bum if be did tl 
tiling? Now tell me, Imtb not the Lord been a good fnend us( 
thee ? Tell me, wiierein halh he grieved thee " and tf II toe, i 
what one thing eansl ibou please the deril and do God a 
pleasure, bat by sin f Yet, O bant heart, thou imkeit nothing 
of it. IJut eonsider, lliirdlyJ in every sin Ibou do-1 dislhrone 
Gad, and setlest thyself abovJ God ; for, in P(tr) »in, this que)>- 
Itlon 18 put. Whoso will shall bo done, Goil'a mil or man's? 
Now, man by sin sets his own will above the Lord's, and so kieks 
God (blessed forever, ailorcd of millions of saints and angels) as 
ifilth under his feet, Wlial, will this break your hearts ?/ 

Consider, then, of-^God's wrath, the certainty of it,/thf< ott* J 
" BupjHjriableness of it, 4— how thai, dying in thy sins and'secun 
eslttte, it slmll fall ; fur, when men ery. Peace, peaee, then c 
eth sudden destniution at unawares. Fray, therefore, to God bf 
reveal this to thee, that thine henrt may break under it, 
ondly, consider ibe Lord's merny and i-eadiness, to save thee, i 
hath prepared mercy, and entreats thee to take it, and waitoi 
every day tor ihee to that end. 

The third reason of man's ruin is that carnal iHinfidcii 
-iwhereby men seek to save themselves, and to seromble out" 
their miserable estate by their own duties and performances, 
when they do feel themselves miserable. The soul dolh as iboso.', 
(llos. V. 13) men when they be wounded and troubled: 
never look after Jesua Christ, but go to their owr 
themselves, like hunted harts when tlie arrow is ii 
U. 31, 32.) 

For the opening of this point, 1 shall show 
things : — 

1. Wherein this renting in duties appears, 

2. Why do men rest in themselves ? 



!:.lmg in (luiies 

I tUc) 

if ignoranlly bred ntid brougjiL 

gree^: — 

1. Tlic soul of a |iuor 
up, rests uonfidfnllj' in aupTjl: 
PupUl litw liu hopvs lo be wiVfcl ; he 
w»rks. But iiM^uire, further, Whal are tnese 
Wby, for ihc iBo*t part, superstitious ones of iliei 
lioiKs (foi' the ixrovr lliinki 

will answer, tiy his good I 1 
giwd works?! I 

bird fnircdt,) ns whipjiiug III 
iblidg ov«r tlmir Palynwdlei-sJ'l 

(IintDM-U'ca, iiilgririiHgc', t'usting. ni 
bowinic ibwii lo iiii;i^>« aud itimkcs. 

2. Now, tbeso bting biiiiishiHl from ihe cliurcli and kingdotn, ^X 
lln'tj niun Bland upon thuir titular profi-agiiin of the Irue iflimo ii. ^-^ 
nJlhough ihpy be duvita incurnuK: iii tiicir liveB. Ivook up uiiil 
down the kin;^om ; you shall fi^t-' suin<; rouring, di'iiikiiif;. diviag, 
carding, whoring, in luvi^rDs and blind aluhouaes; Qthe» l}i'i(^ii- 
ing onl llu'ir oaths, ihcir tnoulbs ever casting out, like raging 
*vw, filthy, frothy epoucbes i oihvra, likv JsmiHils, wioinug at 
the bc«t men ; yut the^c nrc ramlidciit they shall he saved. Wh|^ 
(giaythcy,) I hey are no Pnpisi.^; bang (hum, iht-y will die for 
tiicir religion, and rather burn than turn uguin, by the grace of 
God. Thus ihe Jews boasted they were Abndiuni'^ seed; so 
o<ir carnid peojilu boa»t : Am not I a good Proles limt ? Am not I 
bnptived? Do 1 not live in ihp churdi? and tliercfore, resting 1 
here, hope to be suv-od. I rctneaitx-r a judge, when one pleadi.'dj 
once with him for hia life, that he uuglit not be Iiimged bocoiuo 
be wu a gcmletmui : he told him that tlierefure he should bavo 
the gallows made higher for tiim : «o nbeo ihau ploadcsl, I 
am a Christian and n^ood Protectant, (jot thou wilt drhik, and 
cwcnr, and whortt, neglect prayer, and brimk God's Siibbatti,) 
and therefore tliou hope»t to be saved ; I letl tliee liiy eondem- 
DAiion thall be greater, and the plagues in hell the heavier. 

3. If men have no pcaee here, ihtii Ihoy lly to, iknd K»t in, 
fru (pM^'fn irt' tll P''' JTiaidi;.-!^ You will hnvc mnny a man, 
whom, if you follow co_ bis eluiinlwr, you shall litid very devout j 
and they pniy liourtily for the merey of God, «nd forgivwesa 
of slas 1 but follow ihem out of their chambers, wulch tbcir dis- 
ooiiiVK-x, you shjtll And it fmihy and vain, and now and then 
powdirred with faitli and troth, and obscene specehe*. Wulch 
them when tliey are cniii«ed, yon shall see them as angry aa' 
waojis. and swell like turkeys and m spit out their venom Ilk* 
drojiani. W'liteh them in iheir jonrncys, and you shuil see Ihem 
shijut into Bii ale-house, and then: >will and itwaggt^r, and bo fa- 
miliar with the scum of the eounlry for profnnencss, and half 
drunk, too, ■ouieiiues. Walch ihuiu on the Lord's dnyt t^A 

en ™ 



them out of the church once, and set a»ide Iheir best clothe^' 

and they are then ihe same da at another time; and, becftuss 

they must not work nor sport that daj, tbej think thej may 

., r with a good conscienee sleep the longer on the morning. Ask, 

|1(m;, such men how thej ho{>e to be saved, seeing their lives are 

IsoTiad ! they say, though they make not such shows, they know 

, jwhiit good prayers they make in private ; (hpir henri*^ \|<^fy ««f, 

■ Mre good. I lell ye, brethren, he ihal truslelb to his own heart 

|an<I Tiis^good desires, and so resleth in them, is n fool. I hava 

heard of a man that would haunt the taverns, and theaters, am' 

whore houses at London all day ; but he durst not go fortl 

vrithout private prayer in a morning, and tlien would say, at hi 

departure. Now, devil, do thy worst ; and so used his prayers ' 

(as many do) only as charms and spells ngninat the poor, weak, 

cowardly devil, that they think dares not hurt them, so long 

as they have good hearts within tliem, and good prayers in 

their chambers ; and hence they will go near to rail against the 

preacher as a harsh master, if he do not comfort them with J 

this — that God accepts of iheir good desires. I 

4. If their good hearts can not quiet them, but conscience tells 
them they are unsound without, and rotten at core within, then 
men fall upon reformation ; they will leave their whoring, drink- 

5'ng, cozening, gaming, company-keeping, swearing, and such 
ike roaring sins ; and now all the country saith he is become a 
- Jnew man, and he himself thinks he shall he saved ; (2 Pet. ii. 
20 ;} they escape the pollutions of the world, as swine ihnt are 
escaped and washed from outward filth ; yet the swinish nature 
remwns still j like mariners that are going to some dangerous 
place, ignorantly, if they meet with storms, they go not back- 
ward, but cast out their goods that endanger tlieir ship, and so go 
forward still ; so many a man, going toward hell, is forced to 
cast out his lusts and sins ; but he goeth on in the same way still 
ifor all that. The wildest beasts, (as stags,) if they be kept 
waking from sleep long, will grow tame ; so conscience giving a 
man no rest for some sins he liveth in, he groweth tame : he that 
was a wild gentleman before remains the same mafiTttlT only he 
is made tame now ; that is, civil and smooth in his whole 
course ; and hence they rest in reformation, which reformation 
Is, comhionly, but from some troublesome sin, and it is because 
they think it is better following their trade of sin at another mar- 
ket 1 and hence some men will leave their drinking and whoring, 
and turn covetous, because there is more gain at that market; 
limes it is because sin hath left them, as an old man. 
If they can have no rest here, they get into another starts J 


ing hole: ifaey go to their humiliations, repenlings, I 
tvws, and confeaaiona. They hear a man caii Doi be aaved by 
reforming hia life, unless be come to nfBict his soul too ; he must 
Borrow Kxd weep here, or else cry out in hell hereafter. Here- 
upon they betake themaelTes to Uieir sorrows, tears, confession 
of sins ; and now the wind is down, and the tempest is over, aud 
they make themselves safe. (Matt. si. 1.) They would have 
repented ; that is, the heathen, as Beza speaks, when any wrath 
was kindled from Heaven, ihey would go to their sackcloth and 
sorrows, andyflo thought to pacify God's anger again ; and here 
they rested.' So it is with many a man ;|niany people have sic^) 
fits and qualms of conscience, and then they do as crows, that ] 
give themselves a vomit by swallowing down some stone when f\ 
3)ey are sick, and then ihey are well again ; so when men are f 
troubled for their sins, they will give themselves a vomit of I 
prayer, a vomit of confession and humiliation. (Is. Iviii. o.) \ 
Hence many, when they can get no good by this physic, by iLeir 
florrows and tears, cast off all again ; for, making these things 
ibeir God and their Christ, they forsake them when they can not 
save them. (MatL iii. 14.) Uore are driven to Christ by the 
•ense of the burden of a hard, dead, blind, filthy heart than by 
the sense of sorrows, because a man rests in the one, viz., in 
■orruws, most commonly, but Irtrmbles and flies out of him- /^ 
aelf when he feels the other. Thus men rest in their re- V 
iwniance ; and therefore Austin hath a preiiy speech which 
aounda harsh, that repentance damncth more than sin ^meaning 
dist thouMtids llW~ ;>ti i » h by resting in It; and lience we see, 
-tUDong many people, if ihey have large affection!>, they think 
they are in good favor ; if they want them, they think Ihey are 
CMtAWays, when they can not mourn nor be affected as once they 
Vere, becaase they rest in them. 

6. If llicy have no resl here, then they turn moral men ; that 
it, strict in all the duties of the moral law, which is a greAter 
matter than reformation or humiliation ; that is, Ihey grow very 
just ap d Bijuare in their dealings wiih men, and exceeding strict 
in the duties of the tirsl table toward God. as fasting, prayer, 
hearing, reading, observing the SLkbbalh : and tlms ihe Pharisees 
lived, and hence they are called " the strict sect of the Phari- 
■ees." Take heed you mistake me not; I speak not against 
■trictness, but agaiajt resting in it ; for except your righteous- 
■KM exceed |faeirs, you s^all not enter into the kingdom of 
heaven. You shall find these men fly from base persons and 
^aCOT, lik« the pest houses, commend the best books, cry down 
i|]m >iiu of the time, and cry against civil or moral tnen, (the 



i tap H 


pyc PCS not iisplf,) nml cry np ncal ani) forwarilncHS 
with hitn nlxtu: muiiy mnral diiiics (hut arc to lie done loirard 
Goii or man. lie will sjicnk well nboul Ihc cxctillencv uad neces- 
*iiy of it, 1iec»UBe his trailt nnJ ckill, wliereby he hopes lo get 
bis living! nnd tarn piernnl life, liclh lh(>rf ; but spt^ak about 
Christ, und living by failb in him and Irom him. and Wtomin^ 
the soul ii])Oti the promises, (pieres of cvniiitdicul ripbirous- 
nti-w.) Ill' lliat is vtry i^kilirul in any point of foiitnivcn'y if ns 
ijttiuriiiit iilnioHi Hs a bL-asl, wbca he is I'Xiiminud hi/rt-. licnt-f, 
it' mitiislors pri'ncli n;;^in!>l iho sins of (he tiina, ihcy ivmnif n<l rt 
for A special si-i-mon, (ns it haply deserves, too ;) but let him 
Japeak of any FpiritunI, inward, loiil- working )>olnts. Ilipy go aivny 
and say hi; wns in lla-ir judgment confuiwd nnd ol>6<'urc ; tap 
their pert ihi-y umlfrnlood liim iiot. (Beloved.) |iieiiir 
prcliy ihiiigri to look mi, and ihai i.-^ all the (loodnc- of ihi 
tht»e im^n arc. (as Chi'lnt looked on and loved the natural . . 
mnn in Iha ^oi^iiel,) and that is all thrir excelli?m-y. Ymi Ki 

(in Kuah's Hood. Jtil lliat were not in the ark. though they did 
climb and get to the top of the lalleH mouniaina, ihey were 
drowBaili 8o labor to climb nevor so hijfh in morality, and the 
duties of both tables, if (hou goest not into God's ark, the Lord 
Jesus Christ, thou art sura to p^ri^h eternntty. 

/7. If they have no rest here in ihelr morality, they grow hot 
within, and turn marveluas zcuIdub fo r good cause s aad cou rses; 
and there they stay and wariH"lEemi>elve8 ai their 6WH llrB ! Kins 
Paul (Phil. iii. 6) was Koaloiis, and there rented. They will 
not live, iw many do, like snails in their shells, but rsiilicr than 
they will be damned for want of doing, they are content to give 
awuy their esiaie, children, any thing almost, to get pardon for 
' the sin of their soal. (Micali vi, 7.) 

8. If they find no help from hence, but are forced to see and 
eay, wbca they have done all, they are iinproStablc servants, and 
they sin in all that which Ibey <to. then they re^t ia that whitrb 

I ia like to evangelical obe^icnee ; they think to pleane God by 
*i mourning for ilieir failings in their good duties, desiring to bo 
better, and promising 'or the time lo come lo be so, and thcrohw U; 
rest. (Deut. v. 29.) 

9. If they feel a want of all these, then they dig within Ihem- 
aolves for power lo leave sin, power to be more holy ajid huuble, 

, and BO think to work out tliemaelves, in time, out of this estate, 
•J and so they dig for pearls in their own dunghills, and will not be 

Jieholding to the Lord Je.sns : to live on him in the want of all ; 
liey ihink to set up themselves out of their own slock, witliout 
Jesus ClirisI, and so, as the iirophet Uosca speaks, (xi ' ' 


tliink to save Ibemselves, by their ridiiis oq h^rGee, itiat is, by ^ ' 
"heir own abiUlii'8. ■<■ ./ - i- i *■*-• ;.t-~-^. ' ' ri-~i^ 

10. It' tbey fuel no help bere, then iHey go unto Chrisl for 
grace wid power lo leave sin and do better, whereby they may ■ 
•arc themsclvea ; and so they live upon Christ, that they may j^ 
Kve of Ibemaelves i tbey go unto Christ, they get not into Christ,*^' 
(Ps. Ixsviii. 34, 35,) like birelinga that go for power to do iheir 
work, ibat tbey tnay earn tbeir wages. A child of God contents 
himself with, and lives upon, the inheritance itself the Lord in 
his free mercy Imtb given him. But now we eball see m^ny 
poor Christians iJiat run in tlie very road ihe Pji|)iai5 devoutly ' 
ohell 10/ 

irst. The Papist will confess his misery, that he is (and all 
men are) by nature a child of wrath, and under the powfr of ein 
and Salnn. 

Secondly. They hold Chiret is the onlj^aviour. 

Tbinlly. That this salvation id not by any righteousness in a 
Christ, but righteousness from a Christ, only by giving a man , 
power to do, and tlicn dipping men's doings in his blood, be' 
merits their life. Thus the wisest and devoteet of them pro- 
less, as 1 am able to manifesl i just so do many Christiana live. 
First. They feel IbeniBelvca full of sin, and are sometimes tired 
and weary of themselves, for tbeir vile hearts, and they find no ' 
power to help themselves. Secondly. Hereupon bearing tliat 
only Christ can save tbem, tbey go unto Christ to remove these 
• Bins llint lire tbem, and load tbem, that be would enable them to 
do better than formerly. Thirdly. If they get i bcse sin s subdued J 
And removed, and if they find power to do CiJHt'r, then theyN^ 
Aope they shall l>e saved : whereas thou mayest be damned, and 
go to the devil at the last, although thou dost escjipQ all the pol- 
kilinns of th« world, and Ibat not from thyself and strength, but 
6om the knowledge of Jesus Christ. (2 Pel. ii. 20.) ! say, wm 
to you forever if yuu die iii this estate i it is with our Christians 
jn this cose as it isniili the ivy, which Hasps -and gruweth about 
Aio tree, and draws sap from the tree, but it grows not one with 
(he lr«f% l>e(3iuse it is not ingmlTed into the tree ; so many a'soill 
'Cometh lo Christ, to suck juice from Christ lo maintain bii 
berries, (his own atoek of grace :) nks ! he is but ivy, he 
Biember or branch of this tree, aiid hence he never grows to he 
«ir. with Christ. 2, Now, the reasons why men rest in thejt_ 
lulieiurr. th<r*h:_ / 

FlmU IWaii"e it is niiiural lo a man out of Christ to ilo so. L 
Adam nud all hU |M)*lcrily were to be saviil by hi» doing: " DoV' 
" is tuul^ivet" work, and hero is thy wages; win life, and wi 


Hence all his posterity seeks lo tbis daj to be Eaved by doing;' J 

I like falher, like sou. Now, lo come out of tUI duties truly to K 4 

Christ, haih not so much a^ a coat in innocent, much less coi^ J 

Tuptt-d nature ; hence men seek to themselves. Now, as it ii ] 
with a bankrupt, when his stock is spent, &nd his estate cracked, 
before he will turn prentice, or live u{>on another, he will turn 
peddler of small wares, and bo follow his old trade with a less 
stock : so men naturally follow their old trade of iluiaShSnd hope 
to ^t their living that way; and hence men, having no ex- 
perience of trading with Christ by faith, live of Ihemselvea. 
Samson, when all his strength was lost, would go to shake him* 
self as at other times ; BO when men's strength is lost, and God 
and grace are lost, yet men will go and try how tliey can live 

, by shifks and working for themselves still. 

!i Secondly. Because men are ignorant of Jeeua Christ and his ' 
righteousness ; hencc^nen can not go unto him, because they 
see bim not j hence tney shifV as well as they can for themselves 
by their duties. (John iv. 14.) Men seek to save themselves by 
their own swimming, when they see no cable cast out to help them. 
Thirdly. Because this is the easiest way lo comfort the heart, 
wid pacify conscience, and lo please God, a£ ihe soul thinkai 
because by this means a man goes no farther than himself. j 

Now, in forsaking all duties, a soul goeth to heaven quite oat ] 
of himself, and there he must wait many a year, and Iliat for % 
lillle, it may be. Now, if a fainting man have arpia nla ot hit 
bed's head, he will not knock up the shopkeeper for iL Men 

.jihat liave a balsam of their own to heal tliem will not go to the 

Fourthly. Because by virtue of these duties a man may hide 

vliis sin, and live quietly in his sin, yet be accounted an honest 
man, Eks the whore in Prov. vii. 15, IG, having performed her 
vows, can enlic« without suspicion of men or check of con- 
science ; so the scribes apd Pharisees were horribly covetous . 
but their long prayers covered their deformities, (Matt, xxiii. 14;) 1 
and hence men set their duties nt a higher rale than they are' I 
worth, thinking Ihey shall save ibera because they are so useful I 
to them. Good duties, like new apparel on a man pursued with.! 
~" liue and cry of conscience, keep him from being known. r 

,1 Take heed of resting in duties ; good duties are men's money, 

i without which they think themselves poor and miserable ; but 

' take heed that you and your money perish not together. (Gal. 

' v. 3.) The paths to hell are but two. The 6rEt is the path of 

^ sin, which i^ a dirty way. Secondly, the path of duties, which 

(rested in) is but a clearer way. ^Vbeu the Israelites wen 







Ttie siNCEBE cosvun. 

En distress, (Judg. x. 1 4,) the Lord bids then) fy> to ibe go^ 
Ihey sent^d; so ulien lliou ilirdt lie boirling «ii thy dmlb bed, 
the Lord will say. Go anio llie goud pranTs ami prrforrnnncrd 
j^oii hnvc iDitdr, and the loars you have Hh(.-d> O, iIifj will be 
misemMe miinfurccrs ai ihat day. 

Ob/eeliun. But I tliink thou will fuy, no tnie Cbrii 
hupes lu be ssvud bj bis good works aud duties, but oidy bjr ti 
mei-cy of God and nioriu of'ChrisL 

Awittr. It if one thing to Iniat to be sared by duti es, nnothe^ 
tiling lo rest in dutita i. A man trusts lifalo lliem when be i*-of 
this opinion, that only good duties can save hint. A man reMs 
in dutiu when he ia of this opinion, tbni only Christ r 
him. but in bin practice h e goeth about to nave himselT. I'lie lj 
witipst of the PnpBBra^fc at this day, and so i 
Protestants. And this ie a great subtlety of the heart, that is, 
when a man thinks he can not be fared by his good works and 
duties, but only by Clirisi : he then hupeth, because ho in of this 
opinion, that when he hath done all he is an unprntiiabic s«rvanti 
(which is only an act or work of the judgment informed aright i)y 
nut, therefore, becaaise he ts of ibis opinion, he shall be snted, v 

But because it is hurd for to know when a niiui rests in duties, . 
and few wen Rud themselves guilty of this sin, nbii-h ruins so 
many, I will sbuw two things: — . ^ 

1. The signs of a man's resting in duties. >/ J 

2. The insufhciency of nil duties to snve men; that so thoseV 
that be found guilty o( tliis »in may nut go on in it. 

Kirel. For the signs whereby a man may cerlidnly know, wli<'n 
he rests ill bis duties, which if he do, (us few professm-s win'riiilly 
but they do,} he pcrifiheth eternally. 

First. Those (hat yet nevrr saw lliey rested in Ihem, tlioy that 
sevftr found it u hard mailer to eouie out of their duties. For it 
Js most nntuml for a man to stick in ihem, bcc«u*e nature ■I'to 
aen U|ion duties; hence it is a hard mnlter to come out of ruttlug 
in duiii^. For two things ki^i-p a man from Christ : — 

1. Sin, a. Self. Now,ttittman is broken otf from sin byMtnini^ 
And feeling il, AIIII gruiuiing under lh« power of h, no i* a uiun 
broken from himself. For men hnd mihcr do any thing llian 
eoine unto Christ, there is sucii a deal of self in ilicin ; ilicw-forc, 
if ibon hast no expcrienfe, that at no time thou hn^t rested too 
nucb in thy duties, and then didst groan to be delivered from 
tbf«e Mitangleinenis, (I mean not from tlipdoitiK of tliem. — ilii« Is 
^ftinilism iukI pnitiinenesa, — but from r>-4tiiigin the biireprrlVirm. 
^e« of them.) thou dosi rely upon thy dutlc* lo this day. 
I Thew rest in duties, that prijc the bora pcrformauco of dutl«t 



beiDa i 

wonderfully ; for those duliea (hat carry tliee out of thyself 
Christ mnke Ihee to prize ClinsC. Now, lell roe, dost thou glory 
in thyself? Now I am somebody. Iwna ignonml. forgetful, hanl- 
henrted ; now I understand, and remember better, and can 
sorrow for my sins: if ihon dost rest here, thy duties never 
carried Ihee farther than ihyRetf. Dost thou think, after that 
thou hast prayed with some life. Now I have done very well, and 
now thou dost verily think (meaning for thy duties) the Lord 
will gave tliee, though thou never come lo Christ, and saycsl, 
be in another case, " Now 1 hope the Lord will do good to 
eeeing I have got a priest into my house." (Judg. xvii. 13.) I 
thou enhance the price of duties thus, that thou dost dote 
them ? Then I do pronounce from God, thou dost rest in IheiDa 
" These things " (saiih Paul) " I counted gain," (that is, before 
his conversion lo Christ, he prized them exceedingly,) but " now 
I account them loss." And tins is tlie reason wliy/a child of 
vlwodi commonly, after all his prayers, tears, and confessions, doubt^ 
'much of God's love lowmij him ; whereas another man," that 
fki!efh~ehort oT him, tieyer (^fstigns his estate ; the 

iDil^h rQ"^"££!L and vilene ss in his best JiitlESTftid 

meanly oTJiBserFf" the other. Ignorant oOEe vileness of ihen^ 

prize tlijli em, and esteemeth highly of them ; and setting his cMV^i 

, at so high a price,'ne' may keep them to himself ; the LordnevO*' 

\ acce pietli them, nor buyeth them at so high a rate. i 

\ 'Ihirdly. Those that never came lo be aejisible of their pcnn^ 

*4 erty and utter emptiness of all good : for so long as a man hAtH 

a penny in his purse, that is, feels any good in himself, he wiBj 

never come a-begging unto Jesus Christ, and therefore rests ia 

himself. Now, didst lliou never feel thyself in Ibis manner poor, 

viz., I am as ignorant as any beast, aa vile as any deviL O Lord, 

what a nest and Utter of sin and rebellion lurk in my heart I 

I once thought at least my heart and desires were good, hut now 

J I feel no spiritual life. O dead heart ! I am the poorest, vilest, 

r basest, and blindest creature that ever lived. If thou dost not 

thufi feel thyself poor, thou never camcst out of thy duties ; for 

when the Lord bringeih any man to Christ, he brings him Qlll£lyi 

o he may make him beholding to Christ for every farthing 

Fourthly. Those that gain no .evangelical righteousness by 
dntiea, rest in duties ; I suy, evangelical right eousness, that is 
1 prizing of acquaintance with, desire after, loving and de- 
lighting in union with the Lord Jesua Christ ; for a mortal man 
may grow in legal righteousness, (as the stony and thorny ground 
(eed sprang up, and increased much, and came near unto 


THE aotcssK COrVCRT. lOS 

Tity,) and jet ml ia duties all this while. For a; it ia 
tradesmen, ihef rest in their buying and selling, though ihej 
make no gain of their trading. Now Je^sus Christ is a Christian'^ 
gain. (Phil. i. 21 ;) and hence a cliild of God asks himself afrer 
¥ernion, after prajer, ofler saerauenl. What have 1 gained uf^y 
Christ ? Hare I got more Icnoirledge of ChrUt, more admiring 
of the Lord Jesus? Now, a carnal bean, that rests in his duties, 
asketh only what he hath done, aa the Pharisee : " I thank Gud 
I am not as other men ; I fa:dl twice a week, I give alms," and 
the like; and thinks verily he shall be saved, hecau^e he prajs, 
and because he hears, and becau.9e he reforms, and because he 
•orrows for his sins ; that is, not because of ihc gainbg of Christ 
in a duty, but because of his naked performance of Ihe duty ; and 
to they are like that man that I have heard of, that thought verily 
be should be rich, because he ha<I got a wallet to beg : so men, 
because they perform duties, ihink verily they shall be gaved._^ 
No such matter / let a man have a bucket made of gold ; doth he 
tbink to get water because he hath a bucket? No, no ; he must 
let it down into the well, and dmw up water with it : so must 
tbou let down all thy duties into Christ, and draw light and life 
from his fullness, else, though thy duties be golden duties, thou 
riialt perish without ChrisL Wtien a man bath bread in hi^ 
Vallet, and got water in his bucket, be may boldly say. So long 
aa these last, I shall not famish ; so maye^i thou gay, when thou 
bast found and got Christ, in the performaaoe of any duty. So 
long as Christ's life lastelb, I shall live ; as long as he hath any 
wisdom or power, so long shall I be directed and enabled in 
well doing. 

Fifthly. If thy duties make thee sin mora boldly, thou dost 
dien rest in duties ; for these duties, which carry a man out of him- 
•elf imto CliriHt, ever fetch power against sin ; but duties that a 
man rests In arm him and fence liim in bu sin. (Ia. i. 14.) A 
cart that hatb no wheels to rest on can hardly be drawn into 
|be dirt ; but one that balh wheels cometh loaded through it : so 
« child of God that hath no wheels, no duties, to rest upon, can 
401 willingly he drawn into sin ; but another man, though be be 
loaden with sin, (even sometimes against his conscience,) yet 
baving duties to bear him up, goetL merrily on in a sinful course, 
ud makes no bones of sin. When we see a base man revilea 
great prince, and strike him, we say, Surely, he durst not do 
ft unlM* be bad somebody to bear him out in it. that he rests 
•od truitt HOto: 10 when we see men sin against the great God, 
pe oonceivc, certainly, they durst not do it, if tbey bad not 
Mou dotiai to bear them out in it, and to •aatiinga tham io 
' Aair way, tbat thsy trust uato. 


For, take a profane maii : wliat mnkes him drink, ewi 
game, whore ? Is tln-re no God to piniish ? Is [here no I , 
hot enough to torment ? Are ther« no plagues to confound him ? 
Tcs, Whysinnelh he so [hen? 0, hepmjetli to God for forjiiTe- 
ne^is, nnd M>rroweth, njid repeals in eecret, (n^ he »ailL,) nnd this 
be«rs him up in bi» lewd pranks. 

Take a moral man : he knows he halh his fdlinjxs, and his 
sins, as ihe best hare, and is overtaken sometimes as the hest are : 
why doth he not remove ihe^ie sins then ? He eonfessetii them 
lo God every moniiDg when he risetli. Why is he not more 
bumbled nnder hia sin then? The reason is, lie constantly 

Jttbscrveih morning acid ereoing prayer, and then he craves for- 
giveness for his faJlingB, by which course he hopes be makes hia 
peace with God : and hence ho^jti ppih ff jl b iitt* '"ir. P"i int^l** 
out of his fu11s^i!jtu.£iii-viUuiut^Qixi>iTi . -And thus they see nnd 
maintain iTicir sins by their dulies, and therefore rest in duties. 

Sixthly. Those that see little of their vile hearts by duties, 
rest in iheir duties ; for if a man be brought nearer to Christ, 
1 and lo the light, by duties, he will spy out more motes; for the 

I more a man participates of Christ, his health, and life, the more 
J he feeleth the vileneas and sickness of sin. As Paul when he 

rested in duties before his conversion, before that the law had 
humbled him, he was alive ; that is, be thought himself a sound 
man, because his duties covered his sins, like lig leaves. There- 
fore ask thine own heart if it be troubled sometimes for sin, 
and if after thy praying and sorrowing thou dosi grow well, and 
tbinkest thyself safe, and feelest not thyself more (ile. If it 
be thus, I tell thee, thy duties be but flg leaves to cover iLy 
nakedness, and the Lord will find thee out, and unmask ihee one 
day: and woe tu thee if thou dost perish here. 

Secondly. Therefore behold the insufficiency of all duties to 
save us ; which will appear in these three thin^ which I speak, 
that you may learn hereafter never to rest in duties : — 

II First. Consider./lby J ast dulJe^ jare tainted, poisoned, and 
HminirlH ^h si — irh nn-f ilirr-f-rr rrr most odious in Iheejea 
Mof a holyGod, (nakedly and barely considered in themselves jj^ 

for, if the beat actions' of God's people be filthy, as they eome 
from them. then, to be sure, all wicked men's Actions ai'e much 
more filthy and polluted with sin; but the first is true — "All our 
ri|;hieousn esses are as filthy rags ; " for as ^he fountain is so is the , 
J stream ; but ihe fountain of all good actions (t hat is , the hen rti 
J. is mingled pnrily with sin, partly with grace f [ Jii'^rcir^ "y^T 7 
kglig n part ii-i pill us o f tmni.- nin. wlilfh gins are daggei-s at God's 
heart, even nben a man is proyinfr and begging for his lifat' 
[therefore there is no hope to lie saved by duties. Sfl 


Secondly. Suppose thou couldest perform them without si 

I jel thou eouldst not hold 
snd the glory thereof U b 
n wither if they were i 

'^ * levere in performing all di 
though thou shouldest do 

doing so. (Is. xl. 6,} "All flesh 
So thy hest actiona would 
perfect : and if thou canst not perV 
es perfectly, thou art forever undone/ 
for a time, live like an anget, shine 
and. at thy last gasp, have but an idle tliought, ci 
mit the least eio, that one rock will sink thee down even in th« 
haven, though never so richly laden ; one sin, like a penknife''' I 
St the heart, will stab thee ; one siii, like a little firestick in the | 
thalcb, will burn thee ; one act of treason ]Fiil hang thee, tfaougli | 
thou hast lived never so devoutly before, (Ezek. xviii. 24 ;) forj 
it is a crooked life when all the parts of the line of thy life be 
not straight before Almighty God- 
Thirdly. Suppose thou ahouldest persevere ; yet it is clear y 
thou hast sinned grievously already ; and dost thou think thine I 
obedience for the time to come can satisfy the Lord for all those I 7 
renU behind, for all^tlioae sins paat? as can a man that pays hisi* 
rent honestly every year eatisty ~Eerehy for the old rent not paidp 
in twenty years? All Ihy obedience is a new debt, which can 
not satisfy for debts past Indeed, men may forgive wrong and 
debts, because they be but finite i but thg^least^ is an inHnite 
evil, and therefore God must be satisfied for it. ilea may ir^inTt 
3e&ts, and yet remain men; but the Lord having said, "The 
■oul that sinneth shall die," and bis truth being himself, he can 
Dot remain God, if he foi^ve it without satisfaction. T bafef o w I 
duties are but rotten crutches for a soul to rest upon. ) 

But to what end should we use any duties ? Can not a tnan 
be saved by his good prayers, nor sorrows, nor repentinga? 
What should we pray any more then ? Let us cast off all duties, 
if all are to no purpose to save us ; as good play for nothing as 
work for nothing. 

Though thy good duties ean not save thee, yet thy bad wor^^ 
will damn thee. Thou art, therefore, not to cast olT the ^uifes, V 
&it inrrEsting in these djUies. Thou art not to cast ibem 
bni to cd» Ihem down at the feet of Jesus Christ, as they did 
their crowns, (Rev. iv. 10, 11,) sayiog. If there be any good or 
rracea in these duties, it is thine. Lord ; for it is the prince's 
Ukvot that exalts a man, not Ids own gifts : they came from bis "i 
good pleasure. 

" thou wilt say. To what end should I perfonn duties, if I 

But th ou wiJt sav ^o wl 


* For these three ends : — 

Fint To arrr thee to the Lord JeiuB, the paly SsTJOBT. (H»b. 



vii. 25.) np only is able to save (nbl iluitL'^) nil iLnl rame nnl 
(hul (llmt is i'l il'c ii^i-' of mean.') by liiiu. ilcur a sermon I 
carry ihi-e lo Jesus Cliridl i fasi n»d prnv, niiU gel a full lirfe « 
HfTectiuDS in thein to earry lliee to the Lord Jesus Oirist; tlu 

union w it*! I'jift; »fi cnmug fur cTiy sins ihat ihou mayest be moi 
ffOeii lor C'lirist, that lliou mayest j>rize Christ the more ; in 
lliy duties as Nonb's dove did her wings, to carry ihee to the ai 

. of llie Lord Jesus CIiHst, where only there is rest. If she In 
never used her wiogs, she had fallen into llie waters ; so, if thai 

^hult use no duties, but cast them all olT, thou art sore to periet 

"Or, as it ia with a poor man that is to go over a greal water ft 
a treasure on the other side, though he ean not fetch the boat, h 
calls for it ; and, though there be no treasure in the boat, yet li 
useth the boat to carry him over lo the treasure. So Cliriat 1 
in heaven, and thou on earth ; he doth not come to thee, f 
thou canst not go lo him ) now call tor a boat ; though there j 
no grace, no good, no salvation, in a pithless duty, yel 

'^arry thee over lo the treaayro — the Lord Jesus ChrlsL 
thou comesTlo liear, say, Have over Lord by this sennon; 
thou comcst to pray, say. Have over Lord by this prayer 
Saviour. Butp.his is the misery of people. Like foolish loven 

> when they are to woo for the lady, they fait in love with hsl 
handmaid lliut is only to lead tliera to her ; so men fall in lOTfl! 
with, and dole upon, their own duties, and rest contented widt ^ 
' , the naked performance of them, which are only handmaids to 

ilcad the soul unto the Lord Jesus Christ. 
■ Secondly. T^'p »lniifiH ^a Pvir lericea of God's cvcrlnstinR love 
t o yp ii wimii-yfiii *"■ in Cliriat : for the trrflces and duties ell' 
God's iK!0|ile, although they be not cause.'!, yet they be tuki 
and pledjjes of ^saLtnUtjn lo one in Christ : they do not save 
man, but accompany anil follow such a man as shall be save 

■ (tleb. vi. a.) Let a man boast of his joys, llelings, girts, spirit, 
grace, it' he walks in the commission of any one 
aion of any one known duty, or in the slovenly, 
fbnuunce of duties, this man, I say, can ha* 
without flattering himself. (2 Pet. i. 8, 0. 10.) 
fore, being evidences and pledges of salvation, use Id 

' end, and make much of them therefore ; as a man 
fair evidence for his lordship, because he did not p 
lordship, will he therefore cast it away ? No, no ; hcc.'uife i 
an evidence to assure him that it is liis own ; and so, to del 

- bim against all such as seek to take it from him, lie wilt caief 
preserve the same; so, because duties dn nni !<ave thee, 

ill-favored per- 
i no assurance 

Duties, iherfr^ 

: them lo ihlQ 

hill Imlh i 

Till: aiKctKK ( 


lliou wu't awny gotwl duties ? No ; for they are evidences (if 
iliuu uri in Ctiri&l) ibat tUe Lord and mercy aie tliine own. Wi>- , 
men will not C3»t away tlieir lore tokens, ijlhaugli l]iey are such 
things as did not purobuse or merit the love of ihi^ir husbands; 
but because they ore tokuos of bU love, ihoroforc tiiey will keep t 

That God llie Fatl]^^r of our Lord Jeaus ChrJat may be 

orpij by HiC iKTtorniuiicc ol lini^e duticg, tlirreloro us e Ihenj, 
Uiinst sKeil Uis hincMl Hint lie iiiigni {niruliiise uMA IjIiijirII' a 
people zealnus of good wurk-s (Til. li. 11.) not (o £uve onr souls 
i>y lliera, but to honor hi m. O. let not Ibe blood of Christ be 
6b«l in vain I Urace and good duties arc a CItrislian'* crown; 
it is eiu only m akes a man ba^e. Now, shall a king cast away 
his cro>vni becST(s'6 ho bougDi not bis kingdom by ii? No ; be- 
caus« it ia his ornament and glory to wear it when he is made ft 
kiuK. So I eay unto thee. It ia better that Christ should be hoD- 
ored Ihun iby soul saved ; and, therefore, perform duties, beeaase 
thtjy honor the Lord Jesus Christ Thus use thy duties, but 
rvi«t ijot iu duties ; nay, go out of duties, apd match thy soul to 
the LonlJeaus; lake him for better and for worse; »a lire in 
him and U)>on him all thy days. 

gourllijy. Ity n-ason of man's headstrong presumption, qc 
ftUo liulli. wlitTpliy men seek lo save themselves by enlctiing 
' liold on Cbrisl, wlieu they see alt insutlicieney in all duties lo 
help them, and ihemBclvM unworthy of mercy ; for this 
'JmI and noosl danj^roiiH rock that tbesc times arc split n] 
Alcn make a bridg'' "f ibcir own to curry tlicm to ChrisL 
«n, they look not idV ,- i.iliIi wTou);hl by an omnijiotenl power, 
ieh the eternal Kiiirit ol' the Lard Jesus must wurli in tbem, 
but they content themselves with a faith of ih«ir own forging 
And framing ; and hence they think verily and boliove that 
'.Christ is their sweet Saviour, and lo doubt not but they are Mtffl, 
I i-neh mniicr 1 hut even ns dugs tliey match 
^ Away children's breiid, and sliull Im: shut out of doors (out of 
keaven hereafter forever) for their hkbor. — 

B opinion, ihtU there is no salvation but by 
i.ttir merits of Jesus Christ i and because they hold fast this oiuii- 
•ion, therefore tliey think Ihey hold fast Jesus Christ in the band 
i.of faith, and so perish by catching ut their own catch, and hang- 
, inic on ilteir own fancy and sluulow. Some olhi^r* catch hold of 
fChrisl before tliey come to feel the want of I'aiib and ability to 
,1)elievv, anil eaiehiiig hold on him, (like dust on a man's coat, 
[Whom tiod will shako off, or like burs and briers, cleaving to 
's ganncnl, whieb tliu Lord will trample under fool,) nows^ 


they, they thank Grod, Ihej hfire got ntmfort bj this means, and 
though God killetb tlieio, yet they will trust unto him. (Micah 


It ii in this respect a harder mailer to convert a man in Eng- 
land than in the Iiidiii, for there they have no suuh shifts and 
forta against our sermons; to say they believe in Christ already, 
as most amongst ua do, we can not rap off men's fingers from 
catching hold on Christ before they are tit for him ; lilie a coni' 
pany of thieves in the street, you shall see a hundred hiinds 
scrambling for a jewel that is fallen there, that have least, nay, 
nothing to do with it. Every man saith, almoet, I hope Christ 
is mine ; I put my whole trust and cwifidence in him, and will not 
be beaten from this. What! must a man despair? must not a 
man trust unto Christ? Thus men will hope and trust, though 
they have no ground, no graces to prove ihey may lay hold and 
claim unto ChrisL This hope, scared out of his wits, damns ihou- 
sands ; for I am persuaded, if men did see themselves Christ- 
■ ^ less creatures, as well as sinful creatures, they would cry out, 
" Lord, what shall I do to be eaved ? " 

This faith is a precious faith. (2 Pet. i. 2.) Precious things 
cost much, and wc set them at a high rate ; if thy faith be so, it 
hath cost thee many a prayer, many a sob, many a salt tear. But 
ask most men how they come by their faith in Christ, they say very 
easily; when the lion sleeps, a man may lie and sleep by it; but 
when it awakens, woe to that nan that doth so : so while God is si- 
lent and patient, ihou mayest befool thyself with thinking thou dost 
trust unto God ; but woe to thee when the Lord appears in hi!i 
wrath, as one day he will ; for by virtue of this false faith, men 
.rinning take Christ for a dishclout to wipe them clean again, 
iand that is all the use they have of this faith. They sin indeed, 
J 'but they trust unto Christ for his mercy, and so lie aliU in their 
■^ 'ains : God wiQ revenge with blood, and fire, and plagues, this 
horrible contempt from heaven. 

Hence many of you trust lo Chriat, as the apricot tree, that 
leans against the wall, but it is fast rooted in the earth : so you 
lean upon Christ for salvation, but you are rooted in the world, 
rooted in your pride, rooted in your fllthinesa still. Woe to you 
if you perish in this estate ; God will hew you down as fuel for 
his wrath, whatever mad hope you have to be saved by Christ. 
This, therefore, I proclaim from the God of heaven : — 

1. Ton that never felt yourselves as unable to believe as a 
dead man to raise himself, you have as yet no faith at all. 

(2. Tou thai would get faith, first must feel your inability to 
believe : and fetch not this slip out of thine own garden ; it maM m 



oome down from HeaTen to thj soul, if ever thou partakest 

Other thuigs I should have spoken of this large subject, but I 
am forced here to end abruptly ; the Lord lay not this sin to 
their charge who have ^ stopped my mouth, laboring to withhold 
the truth in unrighteousness.'* And blessed be the good God, 
who hath stood bj his unworthy servant thus long, enabling him 
to lead you so far as to show you the rocks and dangers of your 
passage to another world. 
VOL. I. 10 





Matt, xriii. 11.^**1 came to MTe that which was loat. 


[ tiave had about publishing these 
a God, and at last been persaaded 

Sir : Maoy atruggliDga 
notes. I have looked up 
upoD these grounds : — 

1. The mon^ desires bolh of frienda and strangers, tmth by 
private speeches and lelters, which I thought might be the voice 
of Christ 

2. Some good (as I hear) those which are already out have 
done, and which the rest might do, which I have looked on as a 
testimony of the Lord's acceptance of them. 

3. I know not what the Lord's meaning should be to bring to 
light by his providence, wiihoot my privily, knowledge, or will, 
the former part, unless it was lo awaken and enforce me (buing 
deaired) to publish the rest ; our works, I thought, should re- 
semble God's works, not lo be left imperfect. 

4. I considered my weak body, and my short time of sojourn- 
ing here, and thai J shall not speak long to children, friends, or 
God's precious people, — lam sure not to many in England, — to 
whom I owe almost my whole selfLwhom I shall see in this world 
no more ; I have been therefore willing to got the wind, and take 

■ the season, that I might leave some part of God's precious truth 
on record, that it might speak (O that it might be to the heart 1) 
kmong whom I can not (and when I shall not) be. I account it 
a part of God's infinite grace lo make me an instrument of the 
least good. If the Lord shall so far accept of me in publishiogj 
I I hava [ 

i things, i 

> alt that I would desire; 


t,yet I 



mired forgivenefls in the blood of his Son, for whatever erroni 
or weaknesaes maj be in it, or are in myself, which maj hin- 
der aucoesSy and frustrate it^, end ; only what I havB in much 
weakness belieyedi I hAve written, and sent it onto jon, leav- 
ing it 1H10II7 with jooTMlfy whom I moch love and honor, 

, that yon wonld-add or detract any thing yon see meet, (so as it 
be not cross to what I have writ;) and if you then think it meet 
fbr public view, yon see upon what grounds I am content with 
it; but if you shall bury it, and put it to perpetual silence, it 
diaU be most pleasing to him who thinks more meanly of it than 

I others can* 

^^ Tho. Skbpaxd. 




HcMM *1IL 9, " Iu*e], ihon hasl dcstroyeJ ihjtelt, but in mo [9 ihj help." 

Section I. 

These wordd, na they are set down in the Ilelirew, are (accord-, 
ing to the style of lliU prupbel] very short and Beiiteutiaus. aiid 
Iherclbre ditTiciilt lo translate into English without some po* 
riphradU ; but the sense is here truly expressed, " Id me is ihy 
help ; " which you may sec confirmed from verae 4 : " There is 
no Sarioar beside me ; " and rerae 1 4 : " I will ransom them from 
the power of the grave ; O death, I will be lliy plague ; O grave, I 
will be thy destruction." Suppose the prophet should speak here 
of temporal aajvatio n, help and ransom, (which he doth not i) yet 
the arguiSSnrlB^Gmin^; ff there be' no Saviour from temporal woe 
and misery but only the Lord Jesus, how much more is there 
from woes eternal f Only understand me here aright; I am not 
DOW speuking of man's deliverance and salvation by price in way * 
of satisfaclioo lo justice, (for that I have already handled,) but of 
his duliverauce and salvation by power; not of man's purchased 
dtflii'crance, which is by the blood of "Christ, but of man's actu al ]i 
dclivci^nfc, which is by the etBcacy and power of the Sp^'of ^ 
Chriat. Some captives among men are redeemed by price otilf^ ' 

e~^ power without price ; but sueh is the lamentable captivity 
of all men, under the severity of justice and power of sin, tliat \ '. 
without the price of Christ's blood, (Eph. i.7,) and the power of \ 
Christ's Spirit, (John viii. 3C,) there is no deliverance ; the Lord \ 
* js having paid the price for our deliverance. Yet it is with 
Ls with a company of captives in priaoo : our sins like Krons 


chains bold us ; Sfttan. our keeper, will nut let us go ; ihe prisonil 
doora, throng li iinbi-lij.-f, a re shut upon us. (Horn. xi. 32;) and J 
thereby God and Ubnst arc ke|)t oul from us. What power now 1 
can rescue ua, chat are held fast under such a power, even aiWT I 
the price is paid ? Trulj' it can be no other but that in my tex^ M 
" In me is thy help." Wli^n our ransom ia paid, iho Lord n 
come himself and fetch us out by strong hand. (Is. liii. 1.) " 
wtiom ia the arm of the Lord revealed ? Truly to very few, yel 
to some it is ; and certainly look as they make Chrii " ' 
iDiieed, who dony bis salvation by price and satisfaction, so those 
also make him aa imperfect Sikviour who deny solvati 
actual deliverance of man to be only the almighty arm and efficacy 
of his Spirit and power : excellent therefore is the speech of the 
apostle, (Acts-v. 30, 31,) "God bath exalted Jesus to give rt-j 
pentance and remission of sins to IsraeL" Look as Je^us i 
abased to purchase repentance and remission, so be is now i 

. alted actu^ly to give and apply repentance and remission of si 
Whose glory is it to remit gins, but God's in Christ, and by Christ 
only ? Whose glory is it to give repentance, (which in this place 
comprehends the work of conversion and faith, as Bezs observes,} 
whereby we apply remission, but the same God only ? The o 
is as difficult to be conveyed as the other, and we stand in as mudiv 
need of Christ lo do the one as the other; all the power of ChrirtJ 
exalted is little enough to give us repentance and r ' ~ 
condition of the covenant expressed in repentance, and the bless- 
ings in the covenant, summed up in the forgiveness of sins ; the 

tSocinians deny redemption and salvation by prize ; the Armin- 
■ ians by Christ's power, leaving suasion only to bim, but power 
of conversion lo the power and liberty of the will of man. O 
adulterous generation, that are thus hacking at and cutting the 
Icunls of their own salvation ! I shall here speak only lo one 
question, which ia the princi{ml, and most profitable, and that is 
this : IIdw doih Christ redeem and save ua by his ]>ower, oul of '^ 
that miserable estate ? and consequently what i 
lo see k, and so to find and feel deliverance 1 
Christ's power? 

As there are four principal means and causes, or ways, where 
by man ruins himself. — 1. Ignorance of their own miseryjfl 
2. Security and unsensibleness of it ; 3. Caraal confidence in the&~ 
own duties ; 4. Presumption or resting upon the mercy of f 
;' by ft taith of their own forging, — so, on Ihe contrary, there is $ 

I loOrfold actof Clirisl's power, whereby he rescues and delivel'' 

I all his out of their miserable estate. 

J The tirst act or stroke is conviction of sin 



'^ ■ 


is the way ft 
! by the uun 


The second is cbmpunclion for sin. ^ ^. y, 

Tlje tbird is humitiulion or self-iibiisemenl. -^ I - 

The fourth is fnitL ; all which are disIincU}' put fortb (whenj^ 
he ceaseth extraordinarily to work) in the day of Chrisl'a pow- 
er t and bo ever look for actual salvation and redemplion from 
Chriat, let them seek fur mercy and deliverance in lliU way, out 
of which they shall never find it ; let them begin at conviction, 
and desire the Lord to let them see their sins, that so being af- 
fected with them, and humbled under them, they may by faith 
he enable to receive Jesus Christ, and so be blessed in hiin. It 
is true, Christ is applied to us next hy faith, but faith is wrought 
in us in thatjfgy ^of co nviction and sorrow for sin ; no man eon 
or will come by faith to~ Ubnst to Take away his sins, unless he j. 
first see, bo po n vJcted of, and lo ade d with them . I confess the^^ ■ 
manner of the Spirit's work, in iTie conversion of a sinner unto 
God, is exceeding secret, and in roany things very various ; and 
therefore it is too great boldness to mark out all God's footsteps 
herein ; yet so far forth ns the Lord himself tells us his worii, 
and the manner of it in all his, we may safely resolve oureelrea, 
and so far, and no farther, shuU we proceed in the explication g^ 
these things. It is great profaneness not to search into the works 
of common providence, though secret and hidden. (Ps. xxviii. , 
5, and xcii. fi.) Much greater is it not to do this unto God's 1 
work of special favor and grace upon his chosen. "^ 

I shall therefore b^io with the first stroke — Christ j pow er, (?<■ 
which ii cooTJclion of sio. — 

7%ejSn( AtA of (Aritfi Pineer, which it €bimeli<m of Sin. 

Now, for the more distinct explication of this, J shall open to 
jou these fonr things : — 

1. I shall prove that the Lord Christ by his Spirit be pns. the 
•ctaal deUverance of his elect here. 

3. Wtu( i« thiit aip the Lord convinceth the »oq1 thus flrM of. 

8. How the Lord doth iL 
b 4. 'WSu measure and degree of conviction be works thus in 

1. For the 6n>t, it is said, (John xvi. », 9.) that the first 
thing that the Spirit doth when he comes to make the npostles* 
Biinistry effectuai, is this : it shall " reprove or convince the worid 
of sin;" it doth nQ tfi rst work fai th, but convinceth them^tlutt 
tlujf bftva no billi, (m m nrM t*,) and cqaieqoeBt^ nndsr tbo' 



118 TUB sorND 


lilt and dom inion of their sin; nnil after 

flileousnesa." wBlch lanhan nrehend s. (Vcr. 10.) Itialrue,' I 

lliftl tlie word conviction, here, is ol a large extent, and includes 
eompunctioii and humi lifllion fur sin ; yel our Saviour wraps 
Htcm up ID tbis *Ord ; because conviction is the first, and there* 
fore the chief in order ; here the Lord, not s|)eaking now of 
I inelfeutual, but pftVir-iiml, utid thorough conviction expressed- 
'J in deep smros^and bumiliiition. Now, (he text sailh, tLe Lord 
begins thus not wTtli some one or two, but with the world rf- 
God's elect, who arc to be culled home by the ministry of tbftt 
word, which our Saviour speaks (aa any may see who considert 
the scope) purposely to comfort the hearta of hia disciples, tliak 
their ministry shall be thus effectual to the world of Jews aad> 
Gentiles ; and therefore can not speak of such conviction xt' 
serves only for to leave men without excuse for greater condem- 
nation, (as some understand the place ; ) for that is a poor ground' 
7 of consolation to their sad hcnils. Secondly. I shall hereafW' 
prove that there can be no faith without s ense of si n an^ 
Jmisery ; and now tliere can he no sense ofsin without a prec»-'i 
•/dfllt'jig{it or cnnvipiii^n o f sin ; no man can feel sin, unless hth, 
doth first see it; what the eye sees not. the heart rues noU- Let 
the greatest evil befall a man — suppose the burning of his house, 
the death of his children ; if he doth not first know, see, and hear 
of it, lie will never take it to heart, it will never trouble bim : 

ISO lei a poor sinner lie under the greatest guilt, the sorest wrath 
of God. it will never trouble him until he seesjt and be coo'^ 
, TJnced of it. (Acts ii. 37.) ""When they beard this, they were 
i pncked i " but first they heard it, and saw their sin before their 
hearts were wounded for it. (Gen. iii. 7.) They first saw their 
nakedness before they were ashamed of it. Thirdly. The 
main end of the law is to drive us to Christ. (Rom. x. 4.) If 
Christ be the "^nd of jlieJaw," then the law is the means sub- 
servient to that eoT, and that not to some, but to all that helTert; : 
now, th^c law, though it drives us to Christ by condemnation, yet 
•I in order it begins with pij'j'liiH''"" It fira t nwu-itjth. and so con- 
vinceth of s in^ (R om, iii. 20,) and then eondemneth. It is tbily 
~antllDJ1i3[Tce lor a juifgS tD'COnSeMU und 'MH^ U bmner out to 
his execution before accusation and conviction ; and is it wisdom 
or justice in the Lord or his law to do otherwise ? and therefore 
the Spirit, in making use of the law for this end, first convinceth 
as it first accuseih, and lays our sins to our charge. Lastly. 
Look, as Satan, when he binds up a sinner in his sin, he first 
J keeps him (if possible) from the very sight and knowledge of itj 
because, so long as they see it not, this ignorance is the cause of 
all their woe, why they feel it ool, ivhy iE^deiSre not U> OOffiS: 

! the knoU of Sk- 
Klh his, Bod 


oat of it i the Lord Je^us, who came to unlit 
tail, (1 John iij. 8.) begins bcre, aad first ci 
Toakes them see ibeir sin, that »o ihej may feel il, and come to 
him for deliverance out of it. O, consider thi», nil jon that 
dream out j'our lime in minding onlj things before your feet, 
never thinking on the evila of your own hearts ; you that heed 
not, you that will not see your jins, nor bo much aa ask this 
question. What have I done ? what do I do? bow do I live? 
what will become of me? what will be the end of my foolish 
counea? I tell you, if ever the Lord save you, he will make 
you see what now you can not, what now you will not ; he 
will not only moke you to confca^ you arc sinners, but be n '" 
convince voif yf sin : this shall be the first thing the Lord will 
do with I bee. 

But you will say. What is that sin which the Lord first con- 
TiRceth of? which is the second thing to be opened. I answer 
in these three conclusions : — 

The Lord Jea^sW his Spirit doth not only convince the soul 
in [Tpnofjl thai it IS a slnHcr And sinful, but the LonI brings in 
n convicting evidence of the parliculare; llio first is learnt 
more by tradition, (in these days,) by llie report and acknowledg- 
ment of every man, rather ilian by any special act of convicUon 
of the Spirit of Christ ; for what man is there almost but lies 
under this confession that he is a sinner ? The best say they 
are sinners, "and if we say we have no sin, we deceive our- 
selves," and " I know I am a sinner ; " but that which the Spirit 
principally convinceth of is some ein or sins in particular ; the i 
Spirit doth not arrest men for oSonces in general, but opens the , 
writ and sbows the particular cause — the particular sins. (Rom. ^ 
iii. 9.) We have proved, sailh the apostle, that Jews and Gen- 
tiles are under sin ; but how doth the apoetle, (being now th<i 
instrument of the Spirit,) in tliis work of conviction, convince 
them of this? Mark his method, verses 10-18, wherein you 
shall see it is done by enumeration of particulars ; sins of their 
natursB, there is none f l u l u e uiia ; aii wo f' th ph- m i nd^ none un- ' 
dci^tandcih ; sins in their wills and aff ectionii . none seek aJ^er 
God; sins in their lives, all gone oiit "of the way; sins of 
omissign.Df good duties,, there is none that doth good; ibeir 
lliroais, tongues. lip», are sepulchcrs, deceitful, [)oisonful ; tbeir 
mouths full of cursing, their feet swift lo shed blood, etc 
And ibis is tlie slate of you -Tews, (ver. 19.) as well as of 
the t^niilcs ; that all flesh may stand convinced as gu i lt y bjB- T* 
fore God. If it he here demanded. What arelBose bul par- 
ii<:uTar~Btns which the Lord convinceth men of? I answer. In 
variety uf men there is much variety of special ^ins, as there 


is of disposilioDs, tempere, and lemptalioDs ; ami llicrefore tbft^ 
Lord doth not convince one mnn at first of tlie same sing i^ 
which he doth another man ; yet this we may safely sHy:. usu- 
ally (ihojgh not always) the Lord begins with Ihe remem- 
1 brance and consideration of ^ome_flii&_great, if not a man's 
■^ s]>ecial and moBt belo vedsinj, a53thereby the Spirit discovery ■ 
gradually, all ihe rest : thaTairow which woundeth the heart oC 
C'lirist most, tlie Lord mnkes it fall first upon the head of tin 
einncV Ihnt did Ehoot it against Heaven, and convincelh, and a 
it were liila him fir^t wilh that. How did the Spirit convine 

Jlliose three thonsand, those jiatierns of God's converting grace 7 
(Acts ii. 37.) Did not the Lord begin wilh them for one pria* 
cipol Bin, viz., their murder and contempt of Christ by imbruing, 
their hands iu his blood ^ There is no quesiioii but now they itn 
roembered other sinful practices; but this was the imprirm* 
which is ever accompanied with many other ilcms which ■ 
then read in God's bill of reckonings where the first is i 
down. Israel would have a king. (1 Sam. viii. 19.) Sai 
nel, for a time, could not convince them of their sin: heroiii 
what doth the Lord do ? Surely he wilt convince ihera of si 
fore he leaves them: and ihis he doth by such a terrible ihundet 
Bs made all their hearts uche. And how ia it now ? What sin do 
they now see ? They first sec the grcAtness of that particular eini 
but this come not to mind alone, but they cried oui, (1 Sam. xii. 
19,) " We have added unto all our evils this, in asking to onr- 
selves a king." Look upon tlie woman of Samaria. (John iT.]f| 
The Lord Christ indeed spake first anto her about himself, thi) 
euhslunce of the gospel, about the worth of this water of lifei 
but what good did she get until the Lord began to convince her 
of sin? And how doth he that? He tells her of her secret whore- 
dom she lived in, the man that she now had was not her huB* 
band; and upon the discovery of this, she saw many more sins; 
and hence (ver. 29) she cries out, " Come see the man that hath 
told me all that ever I did in my life." And thus the Lord 
deals at this day : the minister preachelh against one sin, it may 
be "fvhoredom, ignorance, contempt of the gospel, neglect of s^ . 
cret duties, lying. Sabbath-breaking, &c. This is thy case, saidi 
the Spirit unto the soul ; remember the time, the place, the p~~ 
eons with whom thou livedst in this sinful condition: and noi 
man begins to go alone, and to think of all his former courses, * 
how exceeding evil they have been ; it may be the Lord brings 
upon a man a sore alBiction, and when he is in chains, crying out 
of that, the Lord saith to him as to those, (Jer. xjtx. 15,) "Why 
criest tiiou for thy affliction ? for the multitude of thine iniquities 
I bBTO done lliis : " it may be, the Lord sometimes strikes a man's 

, saidij 


Tiffmr*"'"" ''' tiirr dead, by B 
that particular sin comes to m 
wilh multitude of many other sins, the causes of il, the fruita 
vid offects of it; aa the father whips a child upon occasion of 
one Epeciol fault, but then teUs him of many more which be 
winked at before (his, and guiih. Now, sirrah, remember such a 
time, such a froward fit, such undutitbl behavior, such a reviling 
won) you spake, such a time I civlleil, and you ran away and would 
not hear me ; and you thought I liked well enough of the seways ; 
but now know tliat I will not pass them by, etc. Thus the Lord 
deals with his ; and hence it is, mnny timed, that the elect of Gud, 
civilly brought up, do hcreupoo tliiak well of themselves, and so ' 
remain long unconvinced of their woful estates; the Lord suffers 
them to full into some foul, secret, or open sin, and by tliis the 
Lord takes special occasion of working couvictioo and 8om>w 
for £in ; the Lord hereby makes tliem hang down the bead, and 
cry, " Unelean, unclean." Paul was civilly educated ; he turned 
lit la£l a hot persecutor, oppressor, blasphemer : the Lord lir^t 
conviuced him of his persecution, and cried out from lieuven to 
him, '■ Paul, Paul, why persecutest thou me ? " This struck him 
to the heart, and then sin revived. (Kom. vii. 9.) Many secret 
nns of his heart were discovered, which I take to begin and con- 
tinue ill special in those three days. (Acts iii. 9,) wherein be 
was blind, and did (through sight of sin and sorrow of heart) 
ncillier cat nor driuk. As a man that hath the plague, not know- 
ing the disease, he hopes to live ; but when he sees the apoU 
and tokens of death upon his wrist, now he criea out, because ron- 
vinccd that the plagiic of liie Lord is upon him ; fD when men 

usually thus:) fur -inm m' n il,.' I„.mI n^i^ ii]--( .■mn m.^- ,.|" .in 
by showiug them iho .-ihtulii.-- nt [luir uvvii lii'iin. ;i[iii "iu-; 
the Ijord may let a muu pi^e liis blindness, his extreme hardness 
of heart, his weakness, bis wilfulness, his heartlcssness ; he can 
sol pray, or bok up to God, and this may first convince him i or 
that all that he dotli is sinful, being out of Christ ; the Lord may 
suddenly let him see the deceits of his own heart, and the secret 
sinful practices of his life; as if some had told the minister, or 
as if he spake to none but him ; that he is forced to fall down 
being thus convinced, and to confess, God is in this man. (1 Cor. 
Xiv. 2i.) Nicodcnius may first see and be convinced of the want 
of regeneration, and thereby feel his need of Christ ; the Lord 
may set a man upon the consideration of all his life past, how 
wickedly it bath been spent ; and so not one, but a niullilade of 
vot. 1. 11 





:own ■ 

iniquidescompBEaliini about; a man may see ihe godly exanij 
of Lis parentB or other godly Christitins, in the family or town 
where be dwells, and by this be convinced, that if iheir Btate and 
way be good, hiB own {eo far unlike it) must needs be slark 
naught : the Lord ever convincetb the soul of sins in particular, 
but he doth not always convince one man of the same particular 
sins at first as he dolli another; whether ihe I<ord convincelh all 
^^ the elect at first of the aj a. of ^h^'f nature, and show' them 
■^'tl^gi^ "T-ipjinnl <i\a in andftbout this first stroke of conviction, I 
doubt not of it. Paul would have been alive, and a proud Pharisee 
atiU, if the Lord had not let him by the law sec iLis sin, (Rom. 
vii. 9 ;) and so would all men in the world, if this should not be 
revealed first or last, in a lesser or greater measure, under a dis- 
tinct or more indistinct notion ; and hence arise those confessions 
/ of the saints — I never thought I bad such a vile heart ; if all the 
.' world bad told me, I could not have believed them, but that the 
~ Lord hath made me feel it and see it at lost ; was there ever such 
a sinner, (at least in heart, which is continually opposing of him,] 
whom the Lor(J,«( any time received to mercy, as I am ? 

2, The L^d Jesus by his Spirit doth not only convince Ihe 
. , Boul of its sin in particular, but also of the eyjl, e ven Ihe exceed- 
ing gre at evil, of those porticuJar sina. The Lord Jeaua doth not 
only convince of the evil of sin, but of Ihe ^eat evil of sin. 
ihou wretch, saith the Spirit, {as the Lord lo Cain, Gen. iv, 10,) 
what bast thou done, whose ains cry lo heaven, who hasl thus 
long lived with God, and done this infinite wrongs lo an infinite 
God, for which Ihou canst never malcCliiin amends! That God 
who could have long since cut thee off in the midst of thy sins 
and wickedness, and crushed thee like a moth, and sent thee 
down to those oternal flames where Ihou now seesl some better 
than thyself mourning day and night, hut yet hath spared thee 
nninfj^ja tn^w piijf ti) t}|f-i-, ijiat God host Ihou resisted and 
forsaken all thy lifetime ( and, therefore, now see and consider 
what an evil and bitter thing it is thus lo live as thou hast done. 
(Jer. ii. Id.y Look, as it ia in the ways of holiness, many a man 
void of the Spirit may see and know them in tbo literal ex- 
pressions of Ihem, but can not see Ihe glory of them but by Ihe 
Spirit ; and hence it is he doth not esteem and prize them and the 
knowledge of them above gold. So in the ways of unholiness; 
many a man void of the spirit of conviction of sin may and doth 
^see many particular sins, and confess ihera : but he doth not, con 
not see the exceeding evil of them ; and Ihence it is, though he 
doth Bee_them,_ycL he doth j3uL.jiujdL.diiliLu.lheni( because he 
gceat hurt or evil in Ihem, but makes alight matter «£,_ 


tfi^m : and tberefore, nhen tli'; Spirit ramea, it lets liim see and 
Bland coovioced of the exceeding greatness of the evil that is in 
tliera. (Job xTxvi. 8, 9.) In the lime of affliction, (which is 
nsiially the time of conviction of a wild, unruly sinner,) he ebows 
them their transgressions ; but how? that they have exceeded, 
that they have been exceeding many and exceeding vile. 
beloved, before the Lord Jesug comes to convince, we have cause 
U> pray for and pily every poor sinner, as the Lord Jesus, did, 
saying, '■ Lord, forgive them ; they know not what they do /'/You 
godly parents, masters, how od do you instrnct yonr children, 
Bervanis, and convince them of their sinfulness, until tbej eon- 
tess their faults ? yet you see no amendment, but they go on still ; 
what should you now do? O, cry out for them, and say. Lord, 
forgive them, for they know not what they do. Thp jf siiw ihpy 
know, bat what the evil of tliem is, alas ! thev .k now not ; mt 
when the spirit comes to convince, he makes them see what they 
V do, and what is the exceeding evil of those sins they made light 
^1^ before j like madmen that have sworn, and cursed, and struck 
neir friends, and when they come to be sober again, and remem- 

r their miEchievous ways and words, now they see what they 
liave done, and how abominable their courses then were. O 
jou that walk on in the madness of your minds now, in all man- 
of sin, if ever (he Lord do good to you, you shall account 
' ways madness and folly, and cry out, O Lord, what have 
1 done in kicking thus long against the pricks? 

The Lord Jesus by his Spirit doth not only convince the soul 

of the evil of sin, but of iho evil after sin ; I mean, of the just 
punishment which doth foUow sin ^ and that is this, viz., that it 
*£oat (lie,ahgTBM Slcriiall^for sin, if it remain in this estate it » . 
now iQ. rttom. W. IS.) "TKe law worlelli wralhi" i. e., sight 



ff m^fKbm. W. IS.) 
nJ sense of wrath. (Rom. vii. D.) *' When the law came, 
revived, and I died ; " i. e., I saw myself a dead man by it ; go tho 
■oul sees clearly God hath said, " The soul that sinnelh shall 
die : " I have sinned, find therefore, if the Lord be true. I eltall 
die; lo hell_ I shall, if now the Lord slop my breath, and cut 
off my life, "which he might justly and may easily do. '' Deatb'^ 
fa the wages of sin," even of any one sin, though never so iiitle ; 
what, then, will become of me. who stand guilty of so many, ex- 
ceeding tlie number of the hairs on my heod, or the stars in 
beaven ? '■ Wlioremongers and adulterers God will judge ; " the 
r hath said so, the Lord himself haih told me so. (Heb. 
ziit. 4.) 1 am the man ; my conscience now tears me, and tolb 
me SO; what will become of me? "The Lord Jesus will come 
Id flammg fire to render veugeasce against all that know not 

Jg4 THE SOPSD believeh, 

God, and llinl obey not ihe gospel." TliU I belitve, for 
Imlh etiitl il. (2 Tbesa. ii. 7-9.) And now 1 see I am he I 
lialh lived long in jgnoranee, and know not God ; I bave hod 
gospel of grace Uina Ion;; wooing and persuading mj heart, i 
oftentimes it both affected me. bat yetd hare reHisted God i 
his gospel, and bave set tnj lilthy lusts, inj vain Exports, m^ c< 
pontons' cups and queans at a higher price than Christ, and bar* 
loved them more than himi and therefore, though I may Im 
spared for a while, yet there is a time wherein Christ himsel( 
will eome out against me in flaming fire. To this purpose doti^ 
the Spirit work ; for, beloved, the great means whereby SaUa 
OTertbrew man at first in his innocency was this principh 
(Although thou dost eat, and so sin against God, yet thou si 
not die. (Gen. iii. 4,) " Te shall not surely die." The serpent dotljf 
not say, "Ye shall not die," for that is loo gross an outfacing of th 
word, (Gen. ii. 17;) but he soich, " Yc shall not surely die;" tin 
tst there is not such absolute certainty of it ; it may be yea sha 
live J God loves you better than so, and ia a more merciful Fathtt 
than to be at a word and a blow. Now look, as Salan deceivell 
and brought our first parents to ruin by sugge^Ung this principl^t 
BO at this day he dolb sow this accursed seed, and plant this vei^ 
J principle in tlio soul of every man's heart by nature ; they d9 
not think they can not believe they are dead men, and condemned 
to die, and that they shall die eternally for the least ein eamn 
mitted by them ; men nor angels can not persuade them of itt 
they can not see the equity of it, that (^"^1 °" "if"*'^"' ™'" ^ H 
severe for so small a matter ; nor yet the truth of it, for thfl^ 
they think no flesh should be saved ; and thus, when tlie old sei^ 
pent liath spit this poison before ibem, tliey sup it up, and drink 
it in, luid so thou^nds, nay. millions of men and women are 
utterly undone. The Lord Christ, therefore, when he comes to 
save a poor sinner, and raise him up out of his fall, convincolh 
the soul by his Spirit, and that with full and mighty evidence, 
thftt it shall die for the least sin, and tells him, as the Lord told 
Aliimelech in another case, (Gen. xx. 3,) "Thou art but a deail 
man for this;" and if the Spirit set on this, let who ean claw it 
off. I tell you, beloved, never did poor condemned malefactor 
more certainly know and hear the sentence of condemnation 
passed upon lum by a mortal man. than the guilty sinner doth 
his, by an immortal and displeased God ; and therefore those 
three thousand cry out, (Acid ii. 37,) "Men and brethren, what 
shall we do to be saved?" We ore condemned to die; what slmll 
we do now to be saved from death ? Now the eoul is glad to 
inquire of the minister, 0, tell me, what shall I do ? I once thoughlt _ 


myself in a safe and good condition as any in the town or cotin- 
trj I lived in ; but now the Lord hath let me hear of other 
naws ; die I mow in thui estate, a nd it ja a wonder of merdcs I 
MM apiired alive to this da y. TEerc is not only some blind fears 
ttfl jh^{ncion8 inai ii may posaibly be eo, but full peri^uasions of 
heart, die I most, die I shall in this estate; for if the Spirit 
reveal sin, and convince not of death for sin, the soul under this 
work of conviction, being as yet rather sensual than spiritual, will . 
make a light matter of it when it sees no sensible danger in it ; i 
but when it see« the bottomless pit before it, everlasting 6re be- 
fore it, for tbe least sin, now it sees the heinous evil of sin ; the I 
way of sin, though never so peaceable before, is full of danger [ 
now, wherein it sees there are endless woes and everlasting 
deaths that lie in wail for it. (Rom. vi, 21.) And now, sailh 
the Spirit, you may go on in these sinful courses as oiiiers do, il' 
you see meet; but O, consider what will be the end of them; 
what it is lo enjoy the i)leasure9 of sin for a season, and lo be 
tormented forever for them in the conclusion ; for be assured that 
will be (he end : and hence the soul, seeing itself thus set apart 
for death, looks upon itself in a far worse estate than the brute 
beasts, or vilest worm u])on the earth ; for it thinks, When they 
. die there is an end of their misery ; but 0, then is the beginning 
of mine forever. Hence also arise those fears of death and of 
being suddenly cut off, that, when it lies down, it trembles to 
think, 1 may never rise again, because it is convinced, not only 
that it deserves to die, but that it is already sentenced for to die : 
bence aUo the soul justifies God, if he bad cut him off in his sin ; 
L aad wonders what kept him from it, there being nothing else due 
La— I God unto it: hence, lastly, the soul is stopped and stands 
BJBit^pM not on in sin as before ; or if it doth, the Lord gives jt 
^^HHMk (Jer. viii. 6.) Why doth the horse go on in the bot- 
BKf 'Baeanse it sees not death before it; but now the soul sees 
PSmA, aitd therefore stops. O, remember this, all you that neveri 
f flould believe that you are dead, condemned men, and therefore 
I mn never troubled with any such thoughts in your mind. I tell 
L joo that you are far from conviction, and therefore far from 
E Mlvation : if God should send some from the dead lo bear witness 
K against this secure world concerning this truth, yet you will 
I not believe it, for his messengers sent from heaven are not be- 
I B«ved bereio ; woe be to you if you remain unconvinced of this 
k point. 

I But you will say, ^ow J olh the Lord thus convince sm, and 
I'Wherein is it expressed ? which is the third porliculHr. ^ 

I All knijwled|^e of sin is not cppvictton of rin ; all confession o f 




An > 

/ mb ia not eonyiclion ; there is a eonviction mewly rj^igmJ, w 
V^iapot flpiritnal/ there are three things in spirit ui^uonvicUoi 
!- "There is a clear, certain, and manifest lijd it..g'i that the 
* sees its sin. and deiith flni lo it, <:li;iirly and certainly ; for so 
word. (John xvi. 9) iltYxtty eigaifles to ovirlt-nce a thing 
way of argu mental ion, naj, demons tratioiK The Spirit so 
monstrates these things, that it hath nothing to object; a m. 
toouth is stopped ; he halh nothing lo say but this: Behold,! 
vile ; I am a dead man ; for if a man have any strong argiunei 
fpven him to confirm a truth, yet if he haTe but one objection 
doubtful scruple not answered, he ia not fully as yet convini 
because full conviction by a cle«r sunlight sicorters all dark 
jectioDs, and hence our Saviour (Jude 15) will one day convi 
the wicked of all their hard spccehcs against him, which will 
chiefly bo done by manifesting the evil of such ways, and taking 
away all those colors and defenses men have made for their lan- 
guage. Before the Spirit of Christ comun, man can not see, will 
not see his sin for punishment i nay, he hath many things to »Xf 
for himself as excuses and extenuations of sin. One s^th, I ' 
drawn unto it, (the woman tliat thou gavcst me,) and so lays 
blame on others: another saith. It is my nature: others say, All 
are sinners ; the godly tiin aa well as others, and yet are saved a,t 
last, and so I hope shall I : others profess they can not part with 
sin ; they would be better, but they can not, and God requires no 
more tlian they are able to perform : another saith, I will con- 
tinue in sin but a little while, and purpose hereafter to leave it: 
others say, We are aitmers, but yet God is merciful, and will for- 
give it: another saith. Though 1 have sinned, yet I have some 
good, and am not so bad as other men : endless are these excuses 
for sin. In one word, I know no man, though never so bad, 
though him sin be never so grievous, but he halh something to say 
for himself, and something in his mind to lessen and extenuate 
Bioj\but, beloved, when the Spirit comes to convince, he so con- 
▼mceth Be that he answers all these, pulls down all these fences, 
tears off all these fig leaves, scatters all these mists, and pulls off 
all these scales from [he eyes, slops a man's mouth, that the soul 
stands before God, crying, O Loni, guilty, guilty ; as the proph- 
et Jeremy told them, (Jer. ii. 23,) " Why dost thou say, I am 
innocent ? look upon thy way," etc So the Spirit saith, Whv 
dust thou say thy sin is small 7 it is disobedience, as Samuel 
said to Saul, (1 Sam. xv. 23,) which is rel>eliiun, and as the sin 
of witchcraft i and is that a small matter ? The Spirit of t-onvic- 
tion, by the clear evidence of the truth, binds the understanding 
"^ '.it con not struggle against Ood any more; and hence lotalL 


the world plead lo the conimry, nay, lei ihe godly come to com- 
fort Ihem iD tUU estate, and lliink and s|icalc well of tliem, yet 
Ib^y can not believe them, because they are certain their estatea 
are wofiil : hence also we sliall observe the soul under coiivio 
tion — instead of encusing aiii, it aggravates sin, aud studies to 
aggravate sin. Did ever any deal thus wickedly, walk thus 
sinfully, so long against so many checks and chidings, light and 
love, means and mercies, a8 I have done ? And it ia wondertul 
lo observe that those ibingH which made it once account sin light 
make it therefore to think sin great ; er- jr., my sin is lilUe. 
The more unkind tliou (sailh the Spirit) that wilt not do a small 
mailer fur the Lord. My Bin is common. The more sinful thoii 
that in those things wherein all the world rise up in anus against 
God, thou joinest wilh them. God spares me aAer sin. The 
greater is thy sin, therefore, that thou hast continued so long in, 
agauisi a God so pitiful to thee. The dearest sine »ro now the 
▼ilest sins i because, though they were most sweet to him, yet 
the Spirit convinceth him they were therefore tlic more grievous 
a the soul of God. You poor cn^atures may now hide, and 
Dolor. and excuK your sins before men ; but, when the Lord 
les to convince, you can not lie hid. Then your consciences 
{when Jesus Christ the Lord comes to convince) shall not Iw 
Uke the steward in the gospel that set down fil^y for a hun- 
dred pounds. No; the Lord will force it to bring in a true and 
dear account at that day. __ 

There u a real light in spiritual conviction. Rational convic- 
tion makes things appear notionally ; but spiritual conviction, 
treally. The Spirit, indeed, useth argumentation in conviciion ; 
1)ut it goeih further, and causetli ihe sou) not only to see sin and 
death discursively, but also intuitively an d reallyj . Reason can 
see and discourse about wdrds and* propositions, and beliold 
tilings by report, and to deduct one thing froin another ; but the 
Spirit makcti a man see the things themselves, really wrapped uj) in 
thiMe wnnta- The Spirit brings spiritual ibings SarTvell as notions ^ 
before a man's eye ; Uie light of llie Spirit is like the light of iJi«y 
•un — it makes all things appear as ihey are. (John iii. 20. 21.) 
It wiM Jerusalem's misery she hcani the words uf Chri.-'t, and 
Ihi-y were not bid f rom them j but the things of her peace, shut 
tip in thoae words, were hTii from her eyes. Discourse with 
many a man altuul lii^ sin and misery, he will grant all that you 
■ay. and be U coiivineed, and his estate is mont wrftvhol, and 

, Vet alill live* in all miiniicr of t^in. What is tlic reason uf it? 

I Truly, he spi .'s ^liii jiin-pnly by disc oiirse, but he doth nut, nuyv\ 
on not, 9w tli« thing sin, dc«lh,^writE of God, until the 8piri| 



138 THE sorsD belitter. 

ceme, wliicli only conviiieeth or showislb lliitt renlly. A 
will not tie arroid of a lion when il is painted only upon a 
Why f Bet^use therein he dotli not see the living lion : when 
he sees ihni he trembles. So men hear of sin, and talk of sin 
and death, and say they are most miserable in regard of both i. 
yet their lieorts tremble not, are not amazed at these evils, b 
rnuae sin is not seen alive, death ts not presented aliVe befo 
them, whieh is done by the Spirit of eonviclion only, revenlini 
these really to the soul ; and hence it is that muny men f 
seeing see not. How can that be ? Thus, in seeing ihii 
notionally they gee them not renlly. And hence many t 
know most of sin know leant of f\n, because, in seeing it di 
tionaUy, they see it not really. And thererore/happy were it t( 
ilsome men, scholars and others, that they had no notional knoiri 
Hedge of sin; for this light ia their darkness, and makes tltn 
(more uncftpable of spiritual cwnvirtion. The first act of ipirf 
, ual conviction is to let a man see clearly that he is sinful ta.^ , 
'Inmost miserable. The second act is to let the soul see really what 
''J this sin and death is. O, consider of this. Blany of yon know 
that you are sinful, and that jou shall die ; but dost thou know 
what sin b, and what it is to die ? If thou didsl, I dare say thy 
heart would sink. If thou dost not, thou art a eondenmed man, 
because not yet a convinced man. If you here a«k how the 
_ I Lord makes sin real, I answer, by maki ng God real ; the real 
greatness of sin is seen by be holding" Willi)' the greatness of God, 
who is smitten by sin ; sin is not se en because God ja^no t see n. 
(3 John V. 11,) " He llial doth evil "Eith rioTleeinGoa," 
No knowledge of God is the cause why blood touchelh blood. 
The Spirit casts out all other company of vain and foolish 
thoughts, and then God comes in and appears immediately to 
the soul in his greatness and glory, and then tlie Spirit saiih, 
Lo, this is that God thy sins have provoked. And now sin ap- 
pears as it is ; and, together with ibis real sight of ein. the soul 
doth not see painted fir e, but sees the lire of God's wrath really, 
whither now it is leadTng, that never can be quenched but by 
Christ's blood ; and, when the Spirit hHih thus convinced, now a 
man begins to see his niudtiess and folly in limes past, saying, 
1 know not what I did ; and hence questions. Can the Lord par- 
don such a wretch as I, whose sins are so great? Hence also 
the heart begins to be affected witli sin and death, because it sees 
thjum now us iliey are indeed, and nul by report only. 

ais it a mutter of nothing lo tread upon a worm, whei 
B nothing seen worthy either to be loved or feared ; and hei 
I's heart is not aAecled wiili it. Before the Spirit of con' 



tion comes, God is more vile in man's eye than &ny worm. As 
Christ said in another case of himaelt'. (Vs. xxii.,) " I atn a worm, 
and no man," so may the Lord compLain, I am viler in such a 
one's ejes than aay worm, and no God ; and hence a man makes 
it a mailer of nothing to tread upoa the glorjoiu majesty of 
God, and hence is not ikSecied with it ; but when God is seen 
by the spirit of conviction in his great glory, then, as he is great, 
sin is seen great ; as his glory affects and aslonislielh the soal, 
BO sin aflVcts the heart. 

There is a conelant light; the soul sees sin and death condn- 
iiaUy before it( God's arrows stick fast in the soul, and cannot 
be plucked oqI. " My sin is ever before me," said David, (in hie 
renewing of the work of conversion.) For, in effectual convic- 
tion, the mind is not only bound to see the misery lying upon it« 
but it is held bound; it is such a sunlight as never can bel 
quenched, though it may be clouded. When the Spirit of Christ 
darts in any Ught to see sin, the soul would turn away from look- 
ing upon it, would not bear on that ear, Felix-like. But the 
Spirit of conviction, sent to make tliorough ^ork on the hearts 
of all the elecl, follows them, meets them at every turn, forceth 
them to sec and remember what they have done. The least un 
now is like a mote in the eyo; it is ever troubling. Those 
ghastly, dreadful objects of sin, death, vrrath, being presented > 
by the Spirit near unto the soul, fix the eye to fasten here. Thej 
that con cast off* at their pleasure the remembrance and thoughts 
' 1 and death, never prove sound, until the Lord doth make 
them slay their thoughts, and muse deeply on what tlicy have 
done, and whither they are going. And hence the soul, in lying 
down, rising up, lies down and rises up with perplexed thoughts. 
What will become of me ? The Lord sometimes keeps it wajiing 
'n ihii night season, when others are asleep, and then it is haunt- 
ed with those thoughts, it can not sleep. It looks back ui)Oti 
every day and week. Sabbath, sermon, prayer, speeches, and 
thinks all this day, this week, etc., the goodness of the l^ord 
and his patience to a wretch Iiath been continued ; but my sins also 
are continued ; I sin in all I do, in all my prayers, in all I think ; 
,be same heart renmins still not humbled, not yet unchanged. 

And hence you shall observe, (hat word which discovered sin 
M first to it, it never goes out of the mind. I tliink, saith th« .. 
•oul, I shall never forget such a man, nor such a truth. Uence 
also if the soul grow light and careless at some time, and casts 
off the Ihongbts of thrse things, the Spirit rctoms again, and 
fiiUs a-tuuonittg with tlic soul : Why hnst thou done this P 
ynM hurt hath the Lord done Ihec ? Will there never be an 



end ? Host not thou gone ua long cnounb in tliy lewd conrs 
against God, but that thou 6hollldc^t still udd unlo the he 
UrsI thou not wrath enough npon Ihee already ? How ( 
maj the Lord slop thy breath [ and then thou knowest t 
hadst better never to have been bom. Waa tliere ever any tl 
thus reaiated grace ? that thus adventured upon the sword poii 
Hast thou but one Friend, a patient, long-suffering God, that b 

ileft thy conscience without exeuse long ago, and IheTefore eo: 
have cut thee off? and dost tliou thus forsal^ him, thus abna 
him ? Thus the Spirit follows ; and hence/the soul ( 
Rtme measure of confession of sin : Low, I have done e 
ceeding wickedly ; I have been worse than the horse that r 
eth into the battle because it sees not death before it ; bi 
have seen death before me in lliese ways, and yol go on, and still 
Bin, and can not but sin. Behold me, Lord, for I am very vile./ 
"When IhuB the Spirit hath let into the soul a clear, real, constant 
light to see sin and death, now there is a thorough conviction. 
But you will aay, In what measure doth the Spirit communis 
\ cUe this light? 

\ I shall therefore open the fourth particular, viz.: The n 
. ~1 ure of spiritual conviction in all the elect, viz., so much < 
"Hction of sin as may bring jn and w ork compunction for s 
mocfa sight of sin as may bring m B^nse oF sin : so much 
cessary, and no more. Every one hath not the same measure d 
conviction ; yet all the elect have and must have so much ; foiM 

\so much conviction is necessary as may attain the end of convia^g 
tlon. Now, the Jinig proximuM, or nest end, of conviction ii 
elect, is compunction or^jengg^ of sin ; for what good can it dtffl 
unlo tliem to see sin. and nofToBe affected wilh it? What 
greater mercy doth the Lord show lo ihe elect therein than 
unlo the deviU and reprobates who stand convinced, and know 
they are wicked and condemned, but yet their hearts altogether 
unaffected with any true remorse for sin ? " Mine eye," saith 
Jeremy, " affeelelh my heart." The Lord opens the ears of men 
and sealelh instruction, that he may hide pride from man. Some 
■ ' think that there ia no thorougli conviction without some affection. 
I dare not say so, nor will I now dispute whether thei'e i 
Gomething in the nature and essence of lliat conviction the elec 
have different from that conviction in reprobates and devils. 
is BuOicient now. and that which teacheth the end of this quM 
tion, lo know what measure of conviction is necessary- ' 
ceive the clear discerning of it is by the immediate and 
effect of it, viz., so much as affects the heart truly with 

But if you ask, What is that sense of sin, and what measta 


flf this ta necessaiy? that I ah&lt answer in the doctriDe of com- 

Let ttot therefore anj soul be discouraged, emd saj, I was 
sever yet convinced, becaude I have not felt such a clear, real, 
constant light to see sin and death ua others have done. Con- 
uder thou if the end of conviction be atlained, which is a true 
sense and feeling of sin, thou bast then that measure which 
is most meet for thee, more than which the Lord regards not ' 
in any of his. But you that walk up and down with convinced 
consciences, and know your stales are miserable and sinful, and 
that you perish if you die in that condition, and yet have no sense 
nor feeling, no sorrow nor offliclionof spirit for those evils, I tell 
thee the very devils are in some respects nearer the kingdom of 
God than you be, who see, and feel, and tremble. Woe, woe to 
thousands that live under convicting ministries, whom the word 
often hits, and the Lord by the Spirit often meets : and tUey 
hear and know their sins are many, their estates bad, and that 
iniquity will be their ruin if thus they continue ; yet all God's 
light is without heat, and it is but the shining of it upon rocka 
and cold stones; they ar« frozen in their dregs. Be it known 
to you, you have not one drop of that conviction which begins 
■alvation. Before I pass from this to the second work of com- 
punction, let roe make a word of application. 

If the Spirit be^ns thus with conviction of sin. then let all I 
the ministers of Christ co-work with Christ, and begin with their I 
people here : be faithful witnesses unto God's truth, and give j h 
warning to this secure world that the sentence of death is passed, I ^M 
snd the curse of God lies upon every man for the least sin. " Lift I ^| 
Bp thy voice like a trumpet," was the Lord's word to Isaiah, (is. ^| 
Iviii. 2,) "and tell them their sin." Those bees we call dronea 
that have lost their sting. When the salt of the earth (the min- 
islcrs of Christ, Matt v.) have lost their acrimony and sharp- 
ness, or snltness, what is it good for but to be cast o ' " 
hearers will putrefy and corrupt by hearing such doctrines only 
■s never search. When the Lord inflicted a grievous curse upon _ 
the people, (Etek. iii. 2i>,) the Lord made Exekiel dumb thalA I 
he should not be a reprover to them. What was the lamenfation il 
of Jeremy? "Thy prophets have seen vain and foolish things 11 
£)r thee, and have not discovered thine iniquity." How would / I 

t m\ / 

heir | 

ru have the Ivord Jesus by his Spirit to convince men ? MusL 
not be by his word ? Verily you keep the Spirit of Christ I ' 

^ Verily you keep the Spirit of Cliri 

from falling down upon the people if you refuse to endeavor to I 
convince the people by your word. Other doctrines are sweet | 
Bod necessary; but litis is in the fini place most neceseary. J. 


into ,— 


of pontotiAtln^, bewAre of bitterness anil passion ; 
0. convince wilb a spirit of power aud compassion ; and he 
sCall be instrumenlsl unto Christ in this or any other worfe 
Christ's Bfike, unto him the Lord will bo the principal agent, . 
by him will attain his own enda, finish liia gretit work, gat! 
in his Bcntlered ehcep who are in ^reat multitudes ihrough< 
the kingdom BCAttercd from bira, if once they be ihoroogl 
conrinoed that thcj are ntierlj losl, nnd gone out of the ws 
May not thia also be sad reproof and terror to ihem that 
it out ngninit all means of conviction, and will not see ihe^ 
em, nor believe the fearful wrath of God due to them for sin 
Not a man Guarce can be found that will come to this eonclu 
Bion : I am a sinful man, and therefore I am dead ; I am 
demned man ; hul, like wild benals, fly from thuir pursuers into 
their holes, and tbickelfl, and dens — their sinful extenuatii 
excuses, and apologies for sin and for themselves ; and if 
he hunted thither, and found out there, then they resist, and 
cle against that truth which troubles them. ''They flatter them- 
selves in their own eyea until their iniquities be found mosl 
hateful." Many a man diiitikes the text, the use, especially the 
long use, wherein his sin is touched, and his conscience tossed — 
especially if it be his darling sin, his Herodias, his Rimmon — 
especially if willial he thinks that the minister means him, he 
will not see it nor confess it — especially if ho apprehends ho 
shall lose his honor, or his silver shrines, and profit by it. He 
will not see his sin that he may not be troubled in conscience 
for his sin, that so he may not be forced to confess and for- 
enite bis sin, and condemn himself for it before God and men. 
O Lord, I mourn that I i:;m scarce m(H;t with a man that cither 
cares to be, or will be, convinced, but halh something always to 
say for himself: their sins aro not so great, they are not so 
bad, but bare some good, and therefore have some hope; and, 
it God be merciful, it is no great matter though they be exccedi 
tfig sinful, or some such thing; their mouths are not stop] * 
'' say any thing lor themselves but guilty. There is less e 
ition in the world in this age than many are aware of; for 
jlieve that all the powers of hell conspire together to blind mc; 
^os and darken men's minds in (his great work of Clirisfe' 
Prirtcipiit obila. It is policy to stop Christ in his entrance hi' 
this lirst stroke upon the soul ; but O, little do you think whid 

eiu do herein, and what woe you work to yoursplvos hereby. 
osC thou stiHe and resist the first breathings of Christ's Spirit 
when he comes to save thee? What hurt will it be to know the 
ww6t of thy condition now, when there is hope hereby of coming 

cut of it, who must else one day ace all thy " sins in order before 
lh«e," to thy eternal anguish anil terror ? (Ps. I. 21.) When (he 
liord sball say unto (bee aa to Dives, '' Remember in thy life- 
time iliou \milit thy good things," remember suob a time, such a 
plaoe, Huch a sin ; which tlien you would not see. But now thou 
■halt see what il is to strike an infinite God. Remember Lhou 
wasl forewarned of wrath to come, but thou wouldest not believe 
thyself accursed, thatso lhou mightest have felt thy need of Him 
(hat was made a eurse to bless thee ; and therefore feel it now ; 
O,you will wish then that you had known this evil in that your 
day. What doat thou talk of grace ? lhou thinkesl thou bast 
grace, when as thou hast not the first beginning, nay, not the most 
remote preparation for it in this work of conviction : what shoiild 
we do for such as these, but with Jeremy, (Jer. liii. 17,) "If 
jou will not hear, my aonl shall weep in secret for your pride "? / 

0, be persuaded, therefore, to remember your sina past, and toy 
consider of your ways now. All the profaneness of thy heart and 
life, all the vanity of thy youth, (Eccl. xi. 9,) all your secret sins, 
■11 your ains against light and love, checks and vows ; all that 
lime wherein thou didst nothing else but live in sin ; thus God's 
people have done, (Ezek. vi. %) thus all the elect shall do. O, 
consider the Lord remembers them all, and tlwt with grief of 
heart against thei>, because thou forgetlest them. (IIO0. ii. 7.) He 
that numbers thy hairs, and telle the sparrows that fall, numbers 
much more thy sins that fall from thee ; they are written down in 
hid black book. They are no trifles, for he minds not toys ( the 
books must be opened. O, reckoo now you have yet lime to call 
them lo mind, which it may be shall not continue long ; it is the 
Lord's complaint (Jer. viii. 6) of a wicked generation, " that 
he could hear no man say, What have I done ? " " Winnow your- 
selves," (as the word is, Zeph. ii. 1,) ■• people not worthy to be 
beJoTcd." I pronounce unto you from the eternal God, that ere 
long the Lord will search out Jerusalem with candles ; he will 
come with a sword in his hand to search for all secure sinners in 
city and country, unless you awakon ; he will make inquitition for 
blood, for oaths, for whoremongers, which grow common ; for all' 
secret sins we are frozen up in. O, be willing, be but willing that 
the Lord should search you and convince you, now in ibis evening 
timo of theday. before ihe night come, wherein it will be too lal« 
to say, I wish I had considered of my ways in lime : of all sins, 
none cim so hardly stand with uprightness as a secret unwilling- 
no* to Rcc and be convinced of sin. (John iiL 20,21.) The helps 
and mi-'ons fur attaining hereunto arc these : — 

Bring thy soul to the light, desire the Lord in prayer, as JiA 
TOL. I. 12 


V- ^ '•^"' 


:iv. 3^ ! 

did. "TVTiat Isee not.OLord,show me." (.Tob xxxiv. 32.) 
the glass of G<>d's law before thee ; look up in (lie ministry of the 
wora unio the Lord, nnil say,~0 Lord, search me : Ihe sun of this 
tioly word discovers motes : on the Sabbath daj attend to alt that 
which is spoken as spoken unto thee ; then examine thyself when 
lliou hast leisure. When David saw (Ps. xisO how pure the law ^ 
^ waa, he cries out, "Who knows his errors?!*' ^J 

^ LcKik upon every eonviciion of diy consc iencf fnr »ip aafll^| 
' arrest and warning gireiTn'Oili lilt! LOHl WlSseTf; for somelimOt^V 
the word hits, and conscience startles, and saitb, This is my sin, my " 
condition ; yet how usual it is then for a man to put a merry face 
upon a foul conscience ! how ad do men think this is but the word 
of a man who hath a latitude given him of reproving sin in Ihe 
pulpiu and we must give way to them therein I or else their hearts I 
rise and swell against the man and word also. And why ii 
thus? Becausehethinksilismanonlyibatsp^aks; whereasdW[ 
he see and believe that this ivas a stroke, a warning, an arrest, 1^ 
check from the omnipotent God, would he (hen gnipplc,think y< 
with him ? Would it pa£s lightly by hira then ? When Eli hea 
Samuel denounced sad things against his house, " It is the Lord,"! 
said Kli. (1 Sam. iii. Iti.) When Paul saw Jesus speahini 
" Why persecutest thou me ? " ( Acis ix.,) he falls down aslonishea 
and dares not kick against the pricks any longer ; an arrest h 
the king's name comes with authority, luid awes tlie heart of 11 
man in debt. 

Do not judge of sin by any other rule but as God judgeth of 
il, according to Ihe fule of the word by which all men's ways shall 
l>e judged at the last day. What made Saul (1 Sam. xv.) ex- 
tenuate his sin to Samuel ? He judged not of it as the Lord in liU - . 
word did ; for had he done so, he would have seen disobedieiM' 
to a command as bad as wit4:hcrall, as Samuel told him ; 
also made his proud heart sink, and say, I have sinned : n 
ber for this end these scriptures, (Rom. i. 18; Rom. ii. 'J ; 1 
vi. 23 i Gal. iii. 10,) by which (hou mayest see, either I must d 
(in (lie state I am,) or God himself must lie. Itemember lliat M 
angry look or word is murder in God's ac 
an unchaste thought, is odullL-ry beibre a holy God, before whoMH 
tribunal thou must give an ai-count of every vaiu thought aafti 
word. Anil therefore do not judge of an by the present pleajp^ 
ure, gain, honor, or ease in it ; for this is a false rule : MosM '. 
forsook the pleasures of sin Ibr a season," (Heb- xi, 25 i) nor 
\ yet by noi foeling any punishment for it, for God resexves wrath 
(Nullum i. 2) till the day of reckoning ; nor yel by the esteem 
that others generally have of it, who make no more of woundiojr 



the Son of God by sio than they do of crushing ver 
their feel ; nor jet by the practice of others : Every 

»' ftnd therefore I hope I shall do as well as others ; nor yet aeeing 
thyself better, and thanking God thou art not as other men : it 
nay be so, thou didet never steal, nor wliore, nor murder as yet : / 
1 that la not the question ; but hast thou hud any one vain thought^^ 
in prayer? hast thou heard one sermon unprolilably ? hast thou 
sinned ? then knon God spared not the angels th»t sinned, and 
how wilt thou escape, unless the Lord die for tliee ? — mx yet, 
lastly, judge of it by ihy own opinion of God, in thinking God 
is like unto thee, that as thou makest light of it, so he maketh 
less. (Pb. 1. 21.) O, take heed of judging the evil of sin by 
any of these rules : O, remember ^1 men are apt to think of i 
themselves better than they are: " Are we also blind ? " say the 
Pharisees : tzike beed that by judging of sin by these false rules 
you deceive not yourselves. 

Let this, lastly, be a use of thankfulnese to all thwe whose eyes 
the Lord hath opened to see, and so convincing you uf your sins. 
When David was going, in the heat of his spirit, to kill Nabal, and 
Abigail met him and stopped him, wbat said he F "0, blessed 
be the Lord for thy counsel ; " so when thou wert going on, in the 
beat and pursuit of thy sin, toward eternal death, that the Lord 
should now meet thee in thy way, and conWnce thee of thy folly, 
and so stop thee, what a world of sin else wouldst thou have com- 
mitted ! how vile wouliiest thou have been ! O, say, therefore, 
Blesscil be that minister of the Lord, and blessed forever be the 
name of ilic Lord that gave me that counsel. It is said, Christ 
will " send the Comforter to convince of sin : " is it m comfortable 
thing to see sin ? Yes, it shall one day be matter of unspeakable/ 
Qomforiio you that ever you saw sin ; that ever he showed thee 
■hat mystery of iniquity in thy heart and life, those arcema im- 
»enV, those secrets of the power and dominion of sin over theo : ' 
Thou shalt notbate. bat reprove thy brother. If the Lord should 
Kcreily keep thy sin glowing in his own bosom against thee, and 
Dcver reprove thee for it, nor convince thee of it, no greater y 
sign of God's everlasting hatred against thee. O, it is infinite lovev 
that he bath called thee aside and dealt plainly and secr^J) with 
thee, and will you not be thankful for this ? The Lord might 
have led thee in ihy brutish estate, and never made known ihy 
latter end ; never have told thee of thy sin or flood before it comes. 
It may be you will say. If I felt my sin, and were deeply hum- 
bled for it, I coutd then be thankful that ever I saw it : what is it 

This is a favor the Lord shows not to all mankind; many have 


no meana to bring lliem to the knowledge of it, find those 
liHve yet ari; smitten with a dnep sleep under ihaie means, fha 
they know not when death ia at their doors, nor what sin means' 
and this, it maji' be, ia the condition of some of thy poor friendi 
and acquaintiiace, that think it strange tbat thou runnest not will 
tbein in llie same way as they do. 

Suppose soma reprobates do eec sin ; yet Ihe Lord puts a secrei, 
Tirtue in that work of conviction upon thee, which makes theecrj 
to Heaven for a apirit of brokennesa for ein, which, without thu^^ 
Bight of sin, thou wouldest never so much as have desired ; 
this they have not. 

However, conviction ia a work of the Spirit, though it shouUt 
' be but common : and wilt not tbou be thankful for common mercjj 
suppose it be outward ? tlow much more for this that is spiritual 
though it should be common I especially considering that it isth» 
first fundamental work of the Spirit, and U seminally all. Senae; 
of ain begins here, and ariaeth hence 
inally aU sin. Remember that the discovery of Faux in the vault' 
was the preservation of England : we use to remember the day 
and hour of the beginning of some great and notable deliverance: 
0, remember this time, wherein the love of Christ first brake on*' 
in convincing thee of thy sin, who else hodst certainly perished: 
in it. And thus much of this first work of conviction. Now 
second follows — compunction. 

Section III. 

Tie Kcoiid Act of ChrltCs Power, in working Conjunction, ow 

Sense of Sin. 

"XoMri:scnus,4iricking at.ihe learU oE-senae jmdJJceliu&jf ' 
* I B Jn- i* differ ent from cotiyiclioaof 9Jn : th e latter is the work of' 

the ^eo^ns^^qd will, and seated' tFereHi~principaily : a man 
may have sEght of sin" without sorrow and sense of it. (Dan. v. 
S3, with 20, 21. James i. 24. Rom. ii. 20, 21.) Tel that con- 
, ,viction which the Spirit works in the elect is ever accompanied 
with compunction, first or last. For the better unfolding this 
point, let me open these four things to you : — 

1. That compunction or sense of sin immediately follows 
viciion of sin in the day of Christ's power. 

2. The necesaity of ibis work to succeed the other. 

3. Wherein it consist. 
L The measure of it in all the elect. 


That compunction follows conviclion ia eridebt from 
•rd reason. (Acts ii. 37.) When lliey heurd this, thnt is, wl 
"they MiV Btlll were convinecil of their sin in cnicifyihg the Lord 
of life, which they did not imagine to be a sin before, what 
follows next ? It b said. •' Ther w^e pricked at the heart." Lo, 
here Li compunction. E))hraim, also, tn turning udio Hod, ^Jer. 
xxxi. 19.) hath these words: *'At\er that I was instructed, I smote 
upon my thigh," (ai men in great calamity befallen them use to 
do.) " I was ashamed, even confounded, because 1 did bear the 
reproach of my youth." The men of NineTeh bearing by the 
prophet they were all to die witJjin forty days, it is said " they 
believed God," (in the work of conviction,) and then they fell to 
sackcloth and ashes, (in the work of compunction,) which did 
immediately follow. Josiah. (2 Chron. xxxiv. 27.) in his renewed 
return unto God, after he heard the words of the law, " his heart 
melted, and be wept before the Lord." For what is the end of 
raiivictlon ? Ia it not compunction ? for if the Lord should let a 
man see his sin. and death for sin, and yet suffer the heart lo 
remain bard and unaffected, the Lord did but leave him without 
excuse ; nay, the Lord should but leave him under flTTfll "nityfT 
and under a "V'ZI^-fcB^jul j"^tg'n°"'. viz., for a man to see and 
know his sin, and yet unaffected with it, and hardened under it : 
hardness of heart is one of the j^cateat judgments ; to see sin, 
and not to be affected with il, argues greater hardness. Fur it 
is no wonder if they that see not and know not sin remain senstt- 
less of sin ; alas ! they know not what they do ; but for a man to 
be enlightened, and see his sin, and yet unaffected. Lord, bow 
great is this hardnci^, and how unexcusable will such a man In 
teft before Go<l, when the Lord shull reckon with him for lits 
hudneM of heart 1 What is the end of that light the Lortl 
I letj into the understanding in other things ? Is it not (hiil tbi<re- 
I by llie lieart mi;;ht bo affected throughly with it ? Why duHT 
the txird let in the light of the knowledge of Chrial nnd of hi 
will y Is it tliHt this knowledge should, like froth, tl<i»t in th 
understanding, and be imprisoned there ? No, verily, but dial 
ibe heart might be throughly and deeply affected therewltlj 
And do you think the Lord will, in the light of conviction, im- 
I prison it up in the mind ? Ia tlicre not a further end that by 
' thb light li)e heart might be deeply affected with sin ? If any 
' tty that the end of conviction is to drive the soul to Christ, I 
p-ant ttiat is the remote and last end of it ; but the next end is 
. coin minctioi i. For if the undersiunding he convinced of misury. 
' «D<[llit> heart rciniun hard, the mind may see indeed that righ" 
, eouanesd luid life only are to be had in Christ ; yet the hcurl 


remnining: hanl, itic wdlLjiaJ_a2?EU2Pa-KiU 

■ • Clirist t it is impossilile n liiird lieurl, rpniaining auch, whoUj ii 
iiHei^ted witii mh or misery, ^houltl bi^ truly effected with Jesus 
Christ; butof IIiIb more hereafter. 

What necessity is (here of iLia com pun el ion, to succeed convio- / 
tion ? I speak now of necessity in way of ordinary dispensation, V 
not of God'a usual and exlranrdinary way of working, where he 
uaeth neither law nor gospel (as ordinarily he doth) to work 
by. Many have been nibbling lately at this doctrine, and de- 
manded, Wlutt need is there of sorrow and compunction oU 
heart? A man may be converted only by the gospel, and " 
may let in sweetness and joy witliout any sense of sin or ml 
nnd in my experience I have found it so; others, godly 
gracious, also feel it so; why, therefore, do any press such 
necessity of coming in by this hack door unto Christ? Tb 
point I conceive is very weighty, and much danger in denyii 
the truth of it; yet, withal, there needs much tenderness 
hnndling of it, lest any stumble ; and therefore, before Z ta] 
down the reasons to show the necessity of it, give me teai 
propound these rules both for the clearing of the point, 
answering sundry objections usually about this point : — 

In this work of compunction, do not think that the Lord 
not wrought any true sense of sin, because you find it not 
such a measure as you imagiiic you should desire to have, 
i_,thiit others feel; sense of sin admiu degrees. I doubt not Dut 
Josepli's bretliren"^LT9tlllftiined; yet Joseph m ust be more ; be 
must be cast into the ditcli, and into t tie prison, and the iron 
mpst enter not only Into his legs, but iulo his soul. (Ps. cv. 16.) 
Hs must be more ufflicicd in spirit, because he was to do greater 
, work for God, and was to be raised up higher than the rest, and 
therefore did need the more ballast r some are educated more 
civilly than others, and thereby have contracted less guilt and 
stoutness of heart against God and his ways; therefore tliese 
have not such cause of trouble ; and being less rugged, have less 
need of axes to hew them : some men's sorrow breaks in upon 
them more suddenly, like storms and breaches of the sea, and 
tlte Lord is resolved to hasten and finish his woi'k in them ntore 
speedily, and it may be more exemplurily, (lor every Chrbiian 
is not a liiir copy.) as in those, Acts ii. 87. In others their 
sorrows soak in by degrees ; Chdla earat lapidem ; the Lon] 
empties them by continual drojipings, and hence feel oot that 
measure of sorrow that others do: every Christian is not a 
Hemaii, (Ps. Ixxxviii.,) who suffers "distracting fears and terrors 
from his youth up," (ver. 15,) who is "afflicted with all God'i 



, ways," (ver. 7,) for he was a man of exceeding high parts and 
I cfis, as jou maj see, I King^ iv. 31 -, and therefore the Lord 
I bad need of hanging some s]>ecial plummets on his heart to keep 
"ver low, lest it i^hould be lifted up above measure. Some 
c of sin Ilie Lord will work in all he saves, but not the samffi^x^ 
measure ; the Lord gives not always unio his that which is good 
ID itself, (it is good, I confers, to be doepi/ affected and humbled,) 
but that which is lit, and therefore best for thee. 

Do not think there is no compunction or sense of sin wrought 
in the soul because you can not so clearly discern and feel iL\ -^ 
nor the time of the working and first begin'mng of it. I have 
known many that have come with complaints — they were never 
huinbled, they "fiV^ JH^' ]'■ s", nor yet couM tell the time when 
it was lo; yet there hath been, and many times they have seen 
it, by the help of others' spectacles, and blessed God for it. When 
they in Iwlah Ixiii. 17, complained, " Lord, why hast ihou burd- 
ened our hearts from thy fear ? " do you think there was no 
softness nor aensiblene«* indeed? Yes. verily, but they felt 
Dolhing but a bard heart ; nay, such hardness as if the Lord had 
plagued them wilh it by his own immediate hand, and not born 
and bred with ihem only, as willi other men. Many a soul may 
think tlie Lord liath left it, nay, smitten it with a hard heart, and 
so make his moan of it; yet the Lord hath wrought real softness, y 
tinder aelf-hordness, as many times in reprobates there is felt^^ 
soilness when within there is real hardness. The stony ground 
Iicarr nt were ploughed and broken on the top, but were stony 
at the bollom. Some men may be wounded outwardly and 
murially ; this may easily be discerned. The Lord may wound 
others, and ihey may bleed out ; their sorrow is more inwardly 
and secret, and therefore can not point wilh their finger to the 
wound as others can. 

Do not think (he Lord works compunction in all the elect in 
the same circumstantial Work of tlic Spirit, but only in the same 
substautial work ; the Lord works a true sense of sin for sub- 
glance and truth of it, yet there are many circumstantial works, 
like so many enlargements and mmmenls upon one and the 
same text. £x. gralia, the same sin that afiects Paul, it may 
be, dolb not affect Lydia or ApoUos. The same notions for tlie 
aggravation of sin in mw do not come into the mind of the 
other ; the tame comphiints, and prayers, and turnings of s|iirit 
iu the one, may not li« in the same circumstances, and with the 
like effVctii, as in the other, and yet both of them feel sin, and 
therefore complain ; ihcy both feel sin, yet by means of various 
«p|it>;hcnsioiis and aggravalions. This I speak, because you 


may Ihc belter imder^lnnd ttie rneaning of God'd servants il 
opening llie work of humiliation. You may hear them ea "" 

JBOul iloth lliis, tuid thinks Ihat, and B|>eake anolher thing ; 
be every oae does not so thiok in the eame individual c 
Btonees, and therefore is lo be upderalood as producing onto 
tjetmplum in re limi'li.' »omctLing like ihia, or for the substaoM 
of this, is here wrought. 

I In this work of compunction we must not bring rules unlgr. 
men, butmen tojiileSi crook not God's rules to the ejperienos 
of men,"^whiEh is fallible, and many timcH corrupt,) but brii^ 
men unto the rule, and tiy men's eslatus herein by that ; 
rinany will say some men ore not humhled at all, never hod i 
precedent sorrow for sin, God's mercy only hath melted thei 
hearts ; and expericnco proves this, and many £nd this, who art 
sincere and gracious Christians. • 

I answer, We are not in this or any other point lo be guided 
by the experience of men only, but attend the rule ; if it ' 
proved that according unto the rule men must be broken B 
affected with their sin and misery before mercy can be trnlji 
apprehended or C'iirist occupied. What tell you me of suoh D 
such men ? Let the rule stand, but let men stand or fall accord 
ing lo the rule ; many are aceounted gracious and godly for I 
time, much nif'eeted wiih mercy and Christ Jesus ; yet afterwar" 
fall or wizen into nothing, and prove very unsound. 
What is the reason ? 

Truly the cause was here: their first wound and sorrow fi) 
sin was not light, as liercnAur shUiil be made good ; miuiy thoa 
sands nre miserably deceived al«>ul their estates by ihb oi 
thing, of crooking and wresting God's rules to Christians' « 
riencc. Let all God's servants tremble and be wary hi 

(rack not the Holy Scriptures, nor fore* them to speak as 
feetest, hut try itll things by them. (1 Thess. v. 2t.) 

Do not make ihe examples of converted persons in Scri| 
patterns in all things of persons unconvi-rted ; do not make ' 
work upon llio one run parallel with God's work upon Uie 

Some sny that many in Scripture are converted (o CI 
without any sorrow for sin, and produce the examples of Lj 
whose heart God aweeily opened to receive Christ; and i 
eunuch, {Aat vlii.,] converled in the same manner. 

I answer, These are examples of persons converted to G 
before, who did believe in the Messiah, but did not know t] 
lliis Jesus was the Messiah, which tliey soon did when the I^ 
a^t the means to reveal Christ; And ihereforo Lydia, a Jewl 
lyte, is culled a worshiper of God, (Acts xvi. 14,) and 

TH* 80CND BlttETKR. 

wu the eunuch, (Acts viii. 27:) snd in the game coodition wm 
IJh; centurion, (Acts x. 2,) wlio Ic-ared God, and whose prayera 
were twcepied, (ver, 4,) (nhich can not be without faith) yet did 
not know that this Jesus crucified was the Mesaiah, until Peter 
came unto bira. So that, suppose here was no sense or sorrow 
for sin, At this time ; doth it thereiore follow thej never had 
any when the Lord at fir«t wrought upon them ? are these es- 
nraples in persons convertetl fit to ehow forth God's work in 
persona unconverted ? In BOme things, indeed, ihey are examples, 
in others not so ; their examples of believing in Christ are not 
■D thai act examples of sorrow for want of ChrisL And yet let 
me add, to aay that God opened Lydia's heart to believe in 
Chinst, and yet opened not her heart to lament her sin and 
miiiery in her estate without Christ, (suppose she were without 
Christ,) is more than can be proved from the text ; for it is said 
her heart was opened to attend unto the things that were spokcD 
by Paul; and can any think that Paul, or an apostle, ever 
preached Christ without preaching the need men had of him ? 
«nd could any preach their need of Christ without preaching 
men's undone and sinful estate without Christ ? and do you think 
that Lyilia was not made to attend unto this? do you think that 
when Philip came to open the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah to 
the eunuch, that '' Christ was bruised for our iniquities;" that 
be did not let him understand the infinite evil of sin and misery 
of all sinners, and of him in special, unless the Lord Jesus was 
bntiaed for him ? 

In examples recorded in the Scripture of God's converting 

grace, do not think they had no sorrow for sin, because it is "ot^/ 

distinctly and expressly sol down in all places ; for the Scripture '^ 

usually sets down matlera very briefly ; it oftentimes supposeth ,'y'A 

many things, and refers us to Judge of some by other places ; as 'i' m 

(Ads ru 7) it is said, " many of the priests were obedient to the ' M 

faith: "doth it therefore follow that they did immediately believe, ^ J 

without any sense of sin? Look to a fuller example, (Acts ■■■,)v^fl 

•nd then we may see, as the one were converted to the faith, H 

» were the other, having a hand in the same sin. (1 Tim. H 

I i. 13, 14,) Paul, he was a "persecutor, but the Lord received H 

[ himlo mercy;" and that "Gold's grace wasabundant in faith and H 

i love," doth it hence follow that Paul had no castings down, be- H 

f CKUso not mentioned here ? If we look upon Acts ix., we shall ^| 

I we it otherwise/' --^ ^M 

I Do not judge of general and common workings of the Spirit >^H 

m upon the souls of any to be the l>eginnings of effectual and special I ^M 

WtoanrKoa ; for a mas may have some inwaid and yet common \ ^| 


knowledge of the gospel, and Christ io it, before there be a 
Borrow fur em ; yet it dolh not hence follow that the ] 
begins not with compunction ami sorrow, because e< 
is not special and effectual work ; when the Spirit thua comes, h 
first begins hure, ns we shall prove.^ 

The terrors, and fenra, and sense of sin and death be in thenv^ 
selvea ofllictioita of soul, and of themselves drive from Chriet; 
yet in the hand of Christ, by the power of the Spirit, they are 
made to lead, or rather drive unto Christ, which is able to turn 
mourning into joy, as well a& after mourning lo give joy ; and 
.therefore/it is a vain lliing Io think there is no need of e 
Borrows which drive from Christ, and that Christ can w 
lenough therefore without them ; when as by the mighty p 
and riches of mercy in Christ, the Lord by j " 
Ida of all their carnal seeuritv and flelf-e< 
i^ve, and drives tnem to seek for life in the iion. 
These things thus premised, let us now bear of the n 

/ thia work to succeed conviction. 
^■^d Else a sinner will never part with his sin J a bare 
^ I of sin dolh but light the candle to see sin; tompunction 

HhiB fingers, and tliat only makcfi him dread the fire. '' " 

"your hands, ye sinners, and purify your hearie, ye double- 
men, saiih the apostle James, (chap. iv. 8.) But how should 
be done ? He answers, (ver. 9,) " Be afUicted, and 
-weep ; turn your laughter inio mourning. " So Joel ii. 12. 
prophet calls u]K>n his hearers to turn from their sin unto the 
but how ? " Rend your hearts, and not your garments." 
they were able to do this, but by wliat sorrow he requires of 
general ; he thereby effectually works in the hearts of all the 
in particular; for every man naturally takes pkiasure, nay, ail his 

delight and pleasure is in nothing else but ein ; for God he hath 
none, but that. Now, so long as be takes pleasure in sin, and 
finds conteninient by sin, he can not but cleave inseparably to iL 
0, it is awcet, and it only is sweet ; for eo long as the soul is d( 
" ' I, » pleasure in sin is death in sin." ( I Tim. v. 6.) So Ii 

is dead in sin, it is impossible it shouhl part with si 
more than a dead man can break the bonds of death, 
therefore it undeniably follows, that the Lord must first p 
and wormwood to these dugs, before the soul will cease su 

[or b e weaned from them ; I**" Tirti;^""°'_^!!til it"*"' "T* 
will part with it ; load it mth sin, twforc it v 
And look, as the plei 


^ TBTori 

down and desire i 
ing sweet to a s 

, tatter, before the bouI will part from it. 

■ sorrow for it must be exceed 


It is true, I confess, a man goiuctime maj part with sin with- 
out sorrow ; the uocleiui spirit may go out for a time, before he 
is taken, bouad, and slain by the power of ChrisL But euch a 
kind of parting is but the waahiug of the cup; it is unsafe and 
unsound, and the end of such a Christian will be miserable ; for 
a man to hear of hts sin, and then to ioy, I will do no more so, 
without any sense or sorrow for it, would not Iuitc been ap- 
proved by Paul, if he had seen no more in the careless Corin- 
thians, in tolerating the incestuous |)erson ; but their 
wrought this repentance. No, the Lord abhors such whorjsh 
wiping [he lips ; and therefore the same apostle, when be 
reproves them for not s eparat ing tjie sinner, and so the sin from' 
tbem, be sums it up in one word; " Tbtrhave riot moiifne3, that 
such a one might be taken from you ; " because then e 
ered truly from the soul, when sorrow or shame, some sense attd 
feeling of the evil of it, begins it. Not only sin is opposite lo 
God, but when the Lord Jesus first comes near bis elect in 
their sinful estate, they are then enemies themselves by sin unto 
God. And hence it is they will never part with, their weap- 
ons, until themselves be thoroughly wounded ; and therefore tlio 
Lord must wound their consciences, minds, and hearts, berore they 
will cast them by. Now, if there be no parting with, no separa- 
tion from sin, but sin is as strong, and the siuner as vile, as ever 
before, hath Christ (who now conies to save his elect from sin) 
the end of bis work? What is the man the better for conviction, ' 
affection to Christ, name what you can, that remains still in his 
Bin.4 !' When the apostle would sum up all the misery of men, 
he doth it in those words, " Ye are yet-in your sin." So I say, 
thou art eonvified, but art yet in thy sin; art alTccled with \_ 
Clirial, and lakeat hold of Christ, but art yet in thy on : " He 
that confesseth and forsaketh his sin shall find mcrcy."^ 

You will say. May not the sweeincsa of Christ in the gospel, 
and sense of mercy, separate from sin, without any compunction ? v'' 
I answer, 1. S«ase of mercy and Christ's sweetness (I con-t. --- 
I cdvc) acrvn principally to draw the soul onto Christ, (tlcr- 
1 «xxi. 3,) " With loving kindness have I drawn thee." lint 
r Mmpunction or setise of slu principally serves, in the hand of 
I Christ, lo turu the soul from sin. Aversion from sin is distinct 
j: -from, and in order goes before, our conversion unto God. 

'. Sense of the sweetness of God's gmco in Christ keeps out 
f-Bin, but it doth not thrust out sin ut first, / 

3. Christ con not be effl-'ctuiilly sweet, unless sin bo first mjuleV 
gutter I thi^re may lie »oine general notice of Christ's excelhaicy, 
e thirty pieiva given for hJm ; aotmi esteem of his gnwe, 



and hope of his mercj, which may occa?ion sorrow ; bul I d 

not say, that this is any sound or thorough work, lill after » 

row. (Is.l. 4.) Christ haih "tlie tongue of the learned given him 

to speak a wonl in season." Unto whom ? It is aildud, '■ unto 

the weary ; " they are the men that will prize mercy, and they 

only to purpose ; they that have felt the bitterness of sin and 

vrrath find it exceeding hard to prize Christ, and to taste bis 

Bweelness; how shall they do it indeed that find none at all? 

1 tiweelness before sense of sin is like cordials before purging of 

I a foul stomach ; which usually strengthen the humor, but recover 

I no t the man./' 

Because, without this, no man will either care for Christ, or 
feel a need of Christ ; a man n my see a want, o f Christ by (he 
Jiower of conviction, hut he will ^never Feel a need of Chr ist, but 
Vhy the spirit of eompnnction. " ihe whole need not the physi- 
cian, but they that are sick." A whole man may see his want of 
a physician, but a sick man only feeU his neeil of him, will prize 
him, send for hira. By the whole you are not to understand 
Huch as have no need indet^d of Christ, (for what sinner but hath 
need of him ?) but such aa fetl no need of him ; as by sick can 
not be meant such as are sinful and miserable, for (hen Christ 
should come actually to save all men ; but ihoee that did feel 
themselves so, as a sick man that feels his sickness : these only 
the men that feel a need and nocessitjp£_CliriflLi -these jmly 
"■""BTO^ehris^ainnJe'gTaTorCHnal^ be truly thankful 
__- .-., . '[jiftence aris 

Ueir recovery^ Christ. Anftence ariseth the great 
^ the world in despising the gospel, not at all affecled with the 
'^hld Udings of it, because they are not affected with llieir sin 
and misery ; or if they be aflecteU but in part wilh the gospal, 
it is because they are not throughly affected wilh their 

And hence it is, that when the Lord called his people to him, 
yet they would not come to him, because ihey were ihe Lord's, 
and well enough wilhout him. Why did not they come lo the 
, enpper, being invited ? It was because they had farms, and oxen, 
J and wives to allend unto ; t^eyfelt no need of coming, as Ihe 
poor, lame, blind, and holt di3r~~TlHi [ii'udigal-Mtres not for fa- 
ther nor tlither's house, until he comes to see, Here I diey' It 
is true, the grace of the gospel draws men unto Christ ; but it is 
I very observable, that the gospel r eveals no gi-ace but with respect 
1 and in reference unto sinners, ani! jgl3HrrgTfl reme misery ; the 
gospel sallh not that Christ is come to snyeTbut to save sJn- 
j gra^ an d to s ave his |pOo i>le fro m their sins. It reveals not 
tlut God justiiieB m^, but hc~justmes the ungodly; it rci 

pal, I 

irala ■— 


not ihia. lh»[ Christ died for us, but tliat he died for them llial were 
wenk. for sinnf rs. for enemies.^ And it go. can any man itMgiiie 

'*"' ""' rs will De Bweci, unleea men aee ioJJeeTffieTufiniw 

B,_MJrfEBTniil9_of'51 ^'11 not men'say or ttinl," 

*1HW "''* ""''* 

wnat great matter is there inTSST Suppose we be 
enemies, yet we arc well enough ; before Christ comes, a man's 
life lies in bJB sin. Now. suppose any should proclaim to a com- 
|Minj of men the great favor of their prince toward them, Uiat 
he is sudi a gracious priiice as will take away all their lives ; 
will this be glad tidings? Gospel grace can not he set out, 
much leM felt, but in reference lo sin and misery , which must 
be first felt, before _iL!i 3prt>e ~ swee t. ~^cau8e ^^tjrill ncvej 

A man may come to Christ without it : I say again. Tf be dolli, 
(as he hath many followers.) yel Christ will not come lo him, ■ 
nor commit himself to him : " I came not to call ibe xighteaua, 
but BJune ra, to repentance;" in frfiich place note, that as by the 
r^hleoDs is noT meant such as are sincerely so, but such ai" 
tbiqlc and fr.pJ tiicmsct^ici ao.; »o by sinners is not meant all 
niiinncr of Tniperutent nnrl hard-hearted sinners, hut such as 
think ii iul feel ihcnucLvtw -Aueli, and lament under it: now. God 
XTn- FalTiiTr sent liini only unto such ;' he is sent not (e boal the 
' broke ti-lieartcil ; indeed, he is sent 

tieut lo heal them until then ; the Lord leaves tlie ninety- 
thai need no repentance to wilder forever ; the one lost sbeo[ 
who feels itself M>, and fecU a need of a Saviour lo come ami 
find it out, who can not come and find out him, the Lord Jestn 
will come until, and unto him only, leaving all the ninety-nine. 
This rauv la.4lly ajigiear by considering the end of man'ii fall 
inlu siiu auda the publishing of the law (o revetd sin ; and of the 
gospel also inrer^rence uiiM lift and misery- wEj'did the 
r-uAiT the fall of man ? What was hts great plot in it ? 


upparent thin, that thereby way might be made for 
in^mifejlaijon of God's grace in Christ ~ The serpen 

lOJtf. .God's .grace in Chriii.~ The serpent ]H)isnn« all 
mniiliiid, that the seed of the woman might have the glory oT 
recovering Hime ; this wan CJoirs la.'it end ; the perdition of , 
t-ame (of lhem*elves) being but subonlhiBle unlo this. (Rom. I 
ii, 23.) Surely Adam might have glorlflcl gnicc if he hi 
stood, and God liad revealed bis grace in preservins; him (mads 
tnuiable) from fall. But ihn Lord saw gracn shotild not If ggf. 
(idcntly ndviinei'il to iis hisli"! <lignity by ilii-, and Ihi-refore 
•idTcn him ai'tnally to fnll. and that into an iTxiremo Ocplh iif 
muiery. Now, counder man's fall in itself can not be a moan o£, 
VuL. I. 13 


if God. IImS 
-, if tbe Lord ■ 


glorifying grace, but rntlier obscures atl Ihe glory of G 
shall the Lord attain liis end then hereby? Truly, if 
let men see and feel iheir fall and misery by it, now grace 
offered will be accepted and glorified. And therefore the Lord 
sends tbe law to reveal sin, and make it exceeding sinfiil, and 
death for ein, that Ihb end might be allained. (Gial. iii. 22.) 
And therefore feeling of sin, and death, and misery, being tbe 
menns, must precede the other as tbe end ; and therefore, bb 
gruce may be seen by conviction of misery, so (he eweelne« 
of it only con be felt by feeling misery in this work of cxhD' 
piiDciioQ. 'JM 

But you will say, What is tbie compunction, and wherein dot^ 

This is tbe third jiorticulBr to be opened ; in general it ia 
whereby tbe aoul is affected with sin, and "'■']p »fimil)lfi ft f fl'": 

hut more particularly, compunction laaothuig else bat a prick- _ 

Vinp of the j^fart^ nr th- »».]n.ilng jjf Oj-, "■"' "'l,'' '■"•'■ *'f?T"nil^ 

jorrow tor em and m isery an t^yra il.p cnni fmm ein, hqA from 

joit ^ op to wnwi iT^ BI T''"*! miaery j so that it consists in three 

!■ Fgy. 2. Sorrow 3. Separa iitM Lfrom sin. 

The Lord Jesus when he cornea to rescue ma elect, look as 
Satan held them in their misery: First, by blinding t heir eyes 
from seeing of it ; secondly, by bardeninp their nearta from 
feeling of it : so tbe Lord Jesus, having cut asunder the first cord 
of Satan by con viction , b reaks asunder the second by comni 
^jqp , ^ [I causing the soul to feel and be affected with il 
and as the whole soul is unaffected before be comes, so fae makes 
, tbe whole soul sensible when he comes, and therefore he fills the 
^ cgnsciei ^ee wj( b (eflj\ ami tbe beatt-with.-aQ Qyw a nd mourning, 
to as now the mil orsin is brolcn, wliich WMEanieneiT Tmftire 
these fears and sorrows seized upon it. Let mc open these par- 
ticularly, that you may laate and try tbe truth of what now I 

in this work of compunction, lets into the 
r a marvelous fear and terror^gf the 
, direful displeasure of Godj ^of dea Ui. and'^elCtlie punish ment o f^. 

sin, beloveiiiTook upi^most men at this day ; diis~ IS lllB 'gf^i 
""misery lying upon tliem — they do not fear the wrath to come, 
they fear not death nor damning, even then when tbey hear and 
know it is their portion; but their hearts are set to sin. (Eccl. 
viii. U.) 

Tbe Lord Christ therefore lela in this fear, that look as the 
Lord wbcD he comes to conquer the Conaanites, (Ex. xxiiL_ 



37, 28,) " he sent liU hornets before him," which were certain 
tenre, which mode their benrte taint in the day of btittic, and bj 
thi^ Aubilued them; eo the Lord Cbrial, when he comes to con- 
quer a poor ginner that hath long resisted him, and would go on 
lo his own perdition, lets in these fears, that itie soul shrinks in 
with the thoughts of its wol'ul estate, and cries out secrellj'. 
Lord, what will become of me if I die in this condition ? Paul 
trembles, astonished at bis misery and wickedness, and now he 
begins to cry out ; the jailer was very cruel against Paul, but 
when the Lord Jesus comes to rescue him from this condition, 
you shall see him trembling. The I^rd had let in that fear, that 
now bi; is content to do any thing to be saved from the danger 
he saw he was now in ; when a man sees danger, and great dan- 
ger, near mid imminent, now man naluritlly fears it: before 
CUriit come, the soul may sec its misery, hut it apprehends ft 
far Dff,aiul hopiug lo escnpe il, and hence doth not fenr it ; but 
when the Lord Jesus c«mc3, he presents a man's danger, death, 
wmth, and eiemily near unto hiin, and hence hath no hop£.t0- 
_**f1'|pft '*! *" "■""' ^^ '^' '^"'^ therefore dolh fear ; sail seeing the 
niHi^ exceeding great, he hath an exceeding great (though oft- 
times deep) fear of it^s men near death, and apprehending 
U so, befpn then lo be troubled, and cry out when it is too late. 
The Lord Jesus deals more mercifully with the elect, and brings 
death and eternity near them before they draw near to it, whilst 
it is called to-dny: the poor jailer began to think of killing him- 
scJf when fears were upon him ; and so many, under this stroke 
of Christ, have the same thoughts, because they see no hope; 
bnt this measure is not in all; this work is in all. 

" Put them in fear. O Lord, that they may know they be but 
men," Before this fear comes, men are above God. and think 
they can stand it out against him ; the Lord therefore lets in this 
fear to make them know they be but men, and that ns proiid,< 
and stout, and great as thpy are, yet that they are not above 
God, and rhiu it is vain to kick against the pricks, and go on as 
they have done ; for if they do, he will not endure il long. *" The 
ipirit of bondage makes men fear." Before the Spirit of adoption 
comes, these fears therefore are such, as the regenernle, after 
Ihey have received the Spirit of adoption, never ha\ e ; and there- 
foro they are such as pursuu the sou! with some threatening of 
the word, pronouncing dealh and perdition to him in that 
£r. gr^ " He that beUeves not is condemned already : 
the word speaks to conscience. (John iii. 17.) Tliou believosl 
(Mt, saith a tmin's own conscience, the Spitit witnessing 

irefore thou art condemned, saith conscience; now the spirit 

Jberefore th 


- 148 THB aOTJsa aKLizvEit. 

of bondagu is ibe Icstlraoiiy of (Jod's Splril, wilnessfng to b 
the premises ftnd conclusion ; now. tliis Spirit no regcuerato m _ 
indeed, ever lutih nfter this lime; but ihe fears Le balb ori^ 
from anolber principle of ptnrxiptioii of conscience luid loalicp of 
Sutan ihrougli the preseut de-sertion of the Spirit leaving iuin; 
not fVotn &ny p<»itive witness of tlie Spirit of any such unlruLl^, 
Wliich jot is trutli, while the sool ia under thiii stroke, and n ~ 
vegeneraU. Mark therefore diligerntly that this fear is tlie 
Yof the Spirit of the Lord Jesus, and hence it follows, — 

1. That these fears ar e, not merely natu ral, {m those Rom. 3 
15,) arising from natursl conscience only, which ooly n 
Bin, but nev<ir effect ; but they are ailft^""ti'"'' ' they a: 
shot into the conscience by the arm of the Spirit, so 
that no word nor meditation of death and et«ruiiy can bega 
•neh fears, but creates them. 

2. Hence it follows that they are ^saiJuu? • Cor the Spirirt 
work ia ever clear before he leaves it,) (Eph. v. 13;) tliey »i 
blind, confused fears, and eusfH^ious and sad conjectures, wh«r 
by laany a man ia afraid, and much afraid, ttnd affrighted IT 
men in a dream, that think they are in hell, yel can not t 
'^hat that evil is which ibey fear i but they are clear feai%~] 

Vwhereby they di^itinL-lly know and se« that they are misentble, 
and what that nM ^ry is. 

3. lien's tt' follows that tlicy are strong fears , became the 
almigility hand of the Spirit sets ihem on, and stiakes the soul ; 
tbey are not weak fears, which a man can shake off, or cure by 
weak hopes, sleep, or business, etc., like some winds that sluke 
the tree, but never blow it down ; but these fears cast down the 
tallest cedar, and appall the heart, and cool the courage and hold- . 
nesB of the mtet impenitent and audacious sinner; the Spi * 
presenting tlte greatest evil in eternal se[)aration from Go 
hence no evil in the world is so dreadful aa this. I bad bettt 
never been bom than to bear it, (saiih the soul,) and hence o 
off all other thoughts, and can not be quiet ; and hence it 1 
that these fears force a man to fly and seek ont for a better c 
dition. A man like T<ot lingers in his sin ; but these fears, IQe). 
the angel, drive him violently out, the Lord saying to him. Away, 
for thy life, test thou perish with the world, for thy sins are 
come up to heaven ; thou must die before one day be at an end, 
and then what will become of thee? Ah, thou sinful, wretched 
man I may not the Lord justly do it ? Are not ihy sins grown 
so. great and many that they itre an intolerable burden for the 
Boul of Giod to bear any longer ? And hence you shall observe, 

.. if the soul, after sad fears, grows bold and carelesa agMn, t^i 



Spirit puranes it with more cause of fear ; and now the sonl 
cries out, Did the Lord ever elect thee ? Chriet sbed his blood 
to gave hia people from their -sins ; thou livest yet in thy sins. j 
Did he ever shed his blood for thee 'i Thou hast thinned against '•^ 
conseienee lifter thou hnst beei> enlightened, iittd fullen back 
1. Itaat not thou therefore comniiHed iln- imp anlonnhlfl 
sin 'i Thou haat had many a fair season of seeking God. but 
nast dallied and dreamt away thy tirae. Is not the day of grace 
llierefore now past ? It is true the Lord is yet patient and 
bouiNiful, and lets thee live on commoi; mercy; but is not nil 
this to aggravate thy condemnation against that great and ter- 
rible day of the Lord which is at hand ? Are there not better 
men in bell than ibou ai't that never committed the like sin ? 
Thus the Spirit pursues with strong fears till proud man falls 
down to the dust before God. The soul is now under fears, not 
above them, and therefore can not come out of these chains by 
the most cotnfortable doctrine it hears, nor particular application 
of it by the mo^t merciful minister in the world, until the Lord !wy, 
(as Lam. iii. 57,) " Fear not." The Lord only can assuage these 
itrong winds and r^ing waters, id which there b no other cry 
heard of ibis soul tossed thus with tempests but 0, 1 perish I 
Only the Lord, making way for the Spirit of adoption by these 
in hia elect, drivea them out to seek if (here be any hope : and 
■o Ihey ore not properly desperate fears, yet, as I say, strong 
feore, not alike extensively, yet alike intensively, strong in all. 
Aiinall evil, when tidings are brought of it, doth not fear; but if 
the evil be apprehended ^reac and near toOj the very suspicion 
of it makes the heart tremble. When a^Tiouse is on fire, or a 
mighty army entered the land, and near the city, children that 
know not the greatness of the evil fear them not ; but men tijat 
know tlic danger are full of fear. The wrath of the Lord, \\\a\ 
fire, tliose armie« of everlasting woes, are great evils. The blind 
world may not much fear them ; but all the elect, whose minda 
are convinced to see the greatness of them, can not but fear, 
and that with strong and constant fears. Nor is il cowardice^ 
but duty, to fear these everlasting biimings i and hence the soul 
in this case wonders at the security of the world, dreads the ler^ 
n of the Lord that arc near ihcin, and usually seeks to awaken 
■11 its poor friends. I once thought myself well, and woa quiet 
lu you be ; but the Lord hatli let me see my woe, which I can 
[ not but fear. O, look you to it. 

Thus tlie Lord works this fear in some in a others 
Dh n le«ser, measure. O, consider whether the Lord hath thus 
Kiaftcted yotir hearts with fear. O secure times, what will God 
■■ 13- T 


do wilh UB ? mntiy of jou htiTiiig hennl the voice of the I 
roaring, oud yet j'oii irenihk not. Tlie LonI halh foreiold j 
of death and eternal woe for the leasl sin. Do yon believe il 
and yet fear it noi ? How art ihoii iben for»iken of God ? Hu 
of you, that, like old mariners, can laugh at all foul nealber, i 
like weathercocks, set your faces agwnst all winds ; and if you b 
domoed at last, you can not help it ; you muft bear it aa well ■ 
you can : and do you hope to do it as well as others shall dal{ 
0, bow far are such from the kingdom of God, the Lord i 
yet working nor pricking tliy heart so much as with fear ! 

2 . Rorrow and mourniiig fnr sin ia ihp second thing where 
compunction consists. Anu look, as fear plucks the soul froi 
security in seeing no evil to come, so sorrow IjiUpj nt^ tW ^^ 

°ml -'""r''' 'n n\v ir.ff ■"^«i'-r mpi^„»: l\,«,^ f^ 

Is of 

doth. Ttie Lord therefore having smitten the soul, or shot" 
arrows of fear into tlie soul, it iborefore grows exceeding 
and heavy, tliinking within itself, What good do wife er children, 
bouse or lands, peace and friends, health nnd rest, do me, in 
the mean time condemned to die, and that eternally ; it may be 
reprobated never to see GoiVs face more ; the guilt and power 
of sin in heart and life lying still upon me? And lierenjion the 
soul mourns in the day, and in the night desires to go alone and 
weep, and there confesseth its vileness before God, all the days 
of vanity and sins of ignorance, thinking, 0, what have I done ! 
and seeks for mercy ; but not one smile, nothing but clouds of 
anger, appear ; and then thinks, If this anger, tlie fruit of my 
be BO great, O, what aie my sins the cause hereof! WTjen 
angel had set out the sin of the Israelites in making 
with tlie Canaanitus, nnd told them that they should be thorns 
their sides, they sat down, (ver. 4.) and lifted up their voicet 
aad wept. So it is with a contrite sinner. Note narrowly that 
eminent place of Scripture, (Is. Ixi. 3,) the Lord Christ i» 
aeul to " appoint beauty for ashes, and the oil of joy for ihc spii * 
of heaviness tu them that mourn." Out of which note these ' 
things for the explication of this sorrow or mourning: — 

\ First It U_Biii.|i a nmiirniii ^ aa is nreeedc ut uniO-filuntiitfi 
jtff«_ And hence it is not caid, I will not giveTVe spirit of-gtadt 
nuss to lieget nniurning, (though the Lard doth so after conver- 
sion,) but (his goes in order before that. Kphrai in-like, who 
seeing what an unruly bea.-'l he had been, unneiruslomed lo God's 
I yoke, smites upon his thigh, and bemoans himself. It is God's 

-,J^ method (after God's people have sinned) to sad their hearts, and 
lien to turn mourning into joy. Much more at first begin 
of Grod's work upon the soul. They shall lirst mourn. 


lament, anil amile upon ihe tbigh. If God wounds liie soul for 
■in. it bIiuU smnrt, anJ bleed too, biifore tiixi will lu'al. 

Sw.'ondly. Il JB a f pT'-jit [""■■"■'"p, bemuse it U i';itlml n spirits 
flf '""" n i ng. aa n Bpirit of elu mb cr is a deep slumbe r. Wlien 
the poor Jews Bhall oe convertM. Tbeir great ain sbalt then be 
presented before them of eursing and crucifying ibe Lord of 
life, as it was to thoee, Auls ii. 36. And by reason of tlits 
there shall be a great mourning, that thuv shall desire to go 
alone in secret, uvery one apart, and take iheir till of mourning, — 
before the I^rd open the fountain of grace. It is not a sum- 
mer cloud, or an April abower, that is aoon spent, but a great 
mourning; for, — 

1, Before lliig spirit o f sorrow com e, a man' s heart takes gr eat 
fl^ljglir in bU Kin, ft' is his god, hir"idf, Mfl BTpyeiUP TEan" 
Christ and nil the joya of heaven, and therefore there must b« 
great sorrow ; fin inusi be made exceeding biltrr. A mnn that 
is very hungry and thirsty iifier his lust must finil such meat 
and drink exceeding bitter, else be will feed on il. Ixiloinoa 
took great content in women ; but what suitli he when the Lord 
humbled him? "I find a woman more bitter llian death." 
Hear this you harlots, and you that live in your wanton lusta. 
The Lord will make your 8wt:ct morseU mure biiler than death 

to you, if llic Lord sates you. ^^ 

2. IWaimp jhe ^ pviU itrn [1^.; nhjccla of ibU Borro w, 
tJKm sin and dcath V It is true a man may mourn fur smaller 
evils sooner ; out when tlie Spirit sets on the greatest evils, then 
they sad much more. "Mine iniquities arc too heavy to bear." 
Why so? Many a man can beor ^lem without sinking. True, 
but in the elect the Spirit sets on, loads the bouI herewith. '■A 
wounded spirit who cau bear ? " Recausc the greale-st evils lie 
upon the mo:^! tender port of a tender soul, prcKsed down by 
Ihe omnipotent hand of Christ's Spirit. For now the multitude 

j of tins more than the linirs on the head, come now to mind, an 
also ibu Ifliis continuance 'i '''*<"> cmdlcs i-in^. No sooner, saith 
the soul, did Itigririo"live but I began to ain. Ubstinwy^ 
also in them lies very bcnvy. 1 have bml warning)', chccVs, 
resolutions against thera, and yd have gone on. The power 
•f sin nlw HuLj it, that it is said, (I'rov. xxi. 'J,) "When the 
wicked reign, the people mourn." So doth the soul when it 
"feels sin reign. I can not subdue it, nay, ihu Lord will not, 
liuu I fear the Lord baili kit me over lo it. The increase 
ef sin it feels makes il mourn also. 1 grow worse and worse, 

_. aaJtb the soul. /The leak comes in faster than he can cost it 
I cut. / Tho greatness of sin makes it mourn. Was there ever i 



Buch A nnncr as I ? Aiiil lastly, the Mn^e of condemnation 
8in lies upon him j lliis is the fruit of your evi! ways. Baith 
Sjiirit, The bduI doih not let sin pass by it now as water d( 
the mill, but being slopped by convjciion and feur of the evil ofi 
it, it swelb very high, and fills the heart full of grief and sorroi 
ihut many timcg it is overwhelmed therewith. 

3. Because Christ, will not be very swe et, unless this mourn- 
ing under misery be very great : the lioaling of a cut finger is 
sweel, but of a mortal wound is exceeding sweet ; a little sorrow 
will make Christ sweet, but great sorrow under sen^e of deadly 
wounds is exceeding sweet i and without this Christ hath not hia 
ho nor due to him, if he be not only aweet, but also exceeding 
sweet and precious. 

4. Because it is such a ^orrpw, as gotliiiiglMitib at that halh 
wgunded thg, nniil «tn iii^l it Let men have the greatest ont- 
warlPirouTiIes. outward things can cure them, or else they will 
wear away. As if a man be sick, or in debt, physic and mouey 
can cure these ; but lliis wound neither can or ever sliall be healed 
but by the hand that wounded it. And hence a man can take no 
comfort in meat, drink, sleep, friends, mirth, nor pastime, while 

; thia wound, this sorrow laslj ; for if any thing else can heal it, it is 
^ not the right wound, or sorrow, the Lord breeds in his elect. An 
aduhcrous heart, indeed, may Ije <|uieled with other lovers. Cain 
can build away liis sorrow. Nay, I will say more : thb wounded 
soul can not comfort itself by any promises till the Lord come : 
David had a promise of pardon from Nathan, yet he cries out to 
the Lord to make liim hear the voice of joy or gladness, that his 
broken bones might rejoice. Did not ihe Lord make him bear 
the voice of joy by Nathan? Yai, outwardly ; but the Lord that 
had broke his bones must make him hear inwardly. Nay, when 
the Lard comes himself to comfort, much ado the Lord Iwth to 
make him hear it; as ibe Israelites that ■' hearkened not to Moses* 
voice, because of their hard bondage," that unless the Lord did. 
invincibly comfort, it would lie bleeding to death, 
It must needs, Ilierefori^. be great sorrow, which all the worl 
men, nor angels can remove. 

5. You may be conRrmed in this, if, lastly, yon consider the 
many ways the Lord takes to beget great mourning, if Ihe soul 
will not be sorrowful ; as, sometimes, great afflictions ; Manasseh 

\i must be luken in llie bushes, itnd be cast into chains. Sometimes 
strange temptations, hellish blasphemies ; Is there a God F are the 
Scriptures his word ? why shoidd the Lord be so emel as to rep- 
robate any. of hb creatures, to torment it so long ? etc Some- 
limes long eclipsing of the light of Gon'g countenance ; no prayew 



ansn'ereil, but daily billn of indiclmcnt. Ands< 
it Leara antl fceU ti B«i:rel leslimony I'rora Hod, Ihal lie n 
tbought of peace lowanl it, and Iliat his purpose is immuiHble. 
Sometimes it questions, Cau God forgive sins so great ? Can it 
stand with his honor to put up no much wrong? 
feels its heart so extreme hard and dedolent, that it thinks the 
Lord Lath ec^ed it up under this plague till the judgment of 
tlie great day. And sometimes llie Lord makes melancholy a 
good servant to him to further thia work of sorrow. Butthu^ the 
Liurd rebukes many a hard-heaned einner that will not bear the 
yoke, nor feel the load ; and now the Lord turns the beauty of 
tjie proudest into aahes, and withers the glory of all Hush. Nay, 
/somciimes yoa shall observe the Lord, tltough he c 
as fl lion to rend, yet aa a moth be trets out, by secret pioiugs anil 
Luiguishings, the sensekss security of man, thai he shall mouml 
lu purpose before be leave him. I do not mean by this, as if all] 
men had the like measure of sorrow ; but a great sorrow it isHr 
all. Every child is delivered by some throes ; those that stick 
long in the birth may feel them longer and very many. 

Nor yet do I press a necessity of tears, or violent and tumult- 
uous compiMDts i the deepest sorrows ruu with least noise. 11' 
a uiuD cuu have tears for outward losses, and none fur sins, it is 
very suspicious whether he was ever truly sorrowful lor sin ; 
otherwise, as the greatest joys are not idwajs expressed in laugh- 
ter, so the greatest sorrows are not always expressed in shedding 
of tears ; what the measure of this great sorrow is, we shall hear 
be rentier. 

Thirdly. It i3^_c onsta nt mourning, for so it in here called, A 
gpj rit of heflvifiei^ ; as that woman flint hud a spirit of inhrmity, 
and was bowed down many years : Hatmah, constantly troubled, 
is adled a woman of a sorrowful spirit. (1 Sam. i. 12, 15.) A» 
'' the spirit of pride and whoredom" (Hos. iv. 12) is a constant 
fnune, where, though the acts be sometimes suspended, yet ibe 
spirit remains, so a spirit of mourning is such sorrow, as. though 
tilt! nets uf mourning be sometime hindered, yet the spirit and 
spring remain. Hypocrites will mourn under sin and miseryT] 
but what is it ? It is the hanging down the head like a bulrush tn I 
bud weather for a day. O, how many have pangs and gripes gu 
sorrow, and can quickly ease themselves again ! these mouruers 
come to notliiug in the conclusion. I grant the sorrow and sad- 
ness of spirit may be interrupted ; but it returns again, and 
never leaves ihe soul until the Lord look down from heaven. 
(Lam. iii. 18-50.) The cause continues, — guilUuiiljireu^b 

f sin, — : and therefore this effect continuea. 


Fourthly. It is such a sorrow gji malipp w ; 
soil is here said, ■' The Ijord gives beauty for" ihese "ashes; "and' 
hence it is no desperate, hellish sorrow, but usually mixed with 
J aense of eome mercv^ at least common, an H unrni- lnjpp ; nnt that 
whicli apprehends the ohjecl of hope particularly, (whith is done 
in invocation.) but that the Lord may find out some way of saring^^ 
it, (Jonah iii. 9 ; Acts Ji. 37,) which hope, with sense of mei 
waiting so long, preserving from hell and death so oft, eic, di 
not harden the heart, (as in reprobates,) but serve to break 
more, and to load it with greater sorrow ; thus the Lord works ihia 
sorrow in all his elect. I know it is in a greater meaaore, and from 
some other grounds after the soul is in Christ ; but this sorrow 
there ia for substance, mentioned for the reasons given : if Christ 
rn, but never till it be too late ; if he lore 
DOW : how great and many are yon 
■ doom ! The Lord only knows hoi 

Ihia ■ 

hftlo you, you shall m 
you, you mu 

fearful your condemnation 

, how few of your hearts are sad and very heavy for those thingrl 
, Sin is your pleasure, not your sorrow ; you fty from sorrow m 
from a temptation of Satan, who cornea to trouble you, and to lead 
you to despair : David's eyes ran down with rivers of water 
cause others brake God's law, and Jeremy wished he bad a o 
tage in ihe wilderness to mourn in ; and yet you do not, you a 
not pour out one drop, nor yet wish you had hearts to lament yi 
own sing : but O, know it, thai when the Lord Christ ( 
will sod thy soul ; when he comes to search thy old sores by tl 
Spirit of conviction, he will make them smart and bleed abuo* 
dantly, by the spirit of compunction. 

3. fr'Bflr»l'"n fr"tn fin 'f Ibc third Ihingjvhja 

consiaaj such aiear and sm'row for sin under B----^^__.-_ _ 

separates the soul from sin.Ts true compunction; without whicA 

the Lord Clirist can not he had : the soul is cut and wounded widr 

I sin by fear and sorrow, but it is cut off by this stroke of the Spirit, 

,, not from the being, but from the growing power of sin i from the 
wmjo_aJn, not from all sin^ig jlie will whicFl s mortified by a 
spirit of holiness, after thesouTis implanT€)f into Christ ; for 
compunction, contrition, brokenness of heart for_pin, {tall it wbat^g 
you wiH,) ia opposite, to hardness of heart, which is in every aiiM^ 
ner whilst Christ leaves hTinT linw in hardness (as in a BtonOtn 
there is, first, insensibleneas ; secondly, a close cleaving of att", 
■ the parts together, whereby it comes to pass that hard things maku 
'\ rffsislance of what is cast against them t bo^ in compunction there 

I is not only sensiblcnesa of the evil of sin and death, by fearj od 
•orrow, but such as ontlies a separatio n of _thfll close union betwem 

i lor 


■ j n anfjjhe soul ; aud lieniMi it iH tiitit the Lord abhors all rnstings, 
humilialions, pruycre, leare, unkas lliej be of ibis stamp, and are 
accompanied with ttib ctFwt. The I^ril flings ihe dung of their 
fftstings and sorrows in their faces, because ihey did nut break the i 
bonds of wielieJness ; to moum for sin and raisery, and yet to be I 
jiLlhjC sin, is the work of justice on ibc damned in hell, and all the 
devild at this dlay, that are pinched with their black chains liot . 
loosened from them ; and not the work of the grace of Christ in 
ibe day of bis |>ower. " He that confesseth biii sine shall have 
inercj:" that is true; hut remember the meaningof that confession 
in the next words, " and forsaketb," he shall fiod mercy. WiiaE 
id the end of the mother in laying wormwood and gall upon her 
breuat, but that the cliild, by tasting Ihe bitterness of it, might be 
weaned, and have his stomach and will turned from it? What is 
the end of fear and sorrow, but by this to turn away the soul fro^ - 
■in ? This point is weighty anil full of diiRculty, of great use, \/ 
and worthy of deep mciliialion. For as the first wound and 
stroke of the Spirit is, so it is in all after works of it, both uf 
faith aud holiness in the soul: if tbis be right, faith is right, holi- 
ness is right 1 if this be imperfect, or nought, all is according to 
it afterward : the greal«st difficulty lie« here, lu know what meas- 
ure of separation from sin the Spirit makes here ; for atler we 
are in Chrint. then sin is mortified : bow. then, b there any 
separation of the heurt from it, before it doth fully believe ? or 
what measure is there necessary? Here, therefore, I shall answer 
to the fourth mid last particuhir, vi?,. ; — 

Founlily. What is that mea sure of compunction t he Lord 
works in all the elect ? /* 

1 compunction or sense of sin i s ncceasaiy. g- "'iBif"^^ 
L. Now, wliat is the end of it ? iSu other Gut that Ihe 

ijj,'"'p''' (jn In ritrisl (hjrfiiilJiiJ I" lake awayjija. y 

^ pnximm, or next end, ot'coIHiiuncnon is humilialion.* ^ 

iai the soul mnj be so severed from sin as lo renounce itself for 

i ll; the^nM remotvt, or lust end. is, that, being thus humbled, it 

might go UDio Christ to take away i<\a ; tor, beloved, the eoudum- 

nation of the world lies not so mucli in l>eing sinful under guilt 

f and power of sin, as in being unwilling the Lord Jesus should 

take it away : this, I say, is tlie greatest hinderance of salvatiun. 

I (John iii. I'J. Jobuv.'iO.) "O Jerusalem, wilt thou not be made 

I clean?" (Jer. xiii. 17.) Tlial was ihcir great evil; they wore not 

I only polluted, but Ihoy would not be made clean ; the Lont Jesus 

I therefore rolls away this stone from the scpulcher, beats down this 

I mountain ; and because it must lir»t believe in Christ before it 

l.caui receive grace from Christ, it must oome to Christ to take 


away sin, before the I>Drd will do il ; hence so tnach loosening 
from ein as makes ilie soul thus to come is necessary. So niuch 
fear and sorrow as loo«enB from sin, and so much loosening from 
sin as makes the soul willing', or at kast not unwilling, that tbe 
Lord Jesus should lake it away, is necessary ; for whoever comes 
(o Christ, or is not wilting Christ should come to liim lo take away 

. all his sin, halh (whatever he thinks) some antecedent loosening 
and separation from sin. 

O, sailh a poor sinner, when the Lord halh struck his heart, 
and he feels guilt, and terror, and mighty strength of eorruplion, 
if the Lord Jesus would take away these evils from me, though 
I can not, means can not, that vill be exceeding rich mercy. The 

I Lord dotli not wound the heart to this ends that the sonl should 
firsi heal itself, before it come to the Physician, but thai it might 
J tuf It (|iit, >■■-, *'""'irf^ "° "jx^i ^ "'i'ljng and desir iiiiH iiFli TkiJ 
riiitij tly; T^rrl Jnnini tn rnmr n nd hrol it. li is the great fault 
6rinany Chrbtians, eiilicr their wounds ani! sorrows are so little, 
(hey desire not to be healed ; or, if they do, tbey labor lo heal 
ibcmsctveB first, before they come lo the Physician for it ; they 
will first make themselves holy, and put on their jewels, and then 
believe in Christ. And hence are those many complaints. What 
have I to do with Christ P Wliy should ho have to do with me. 
thai have such unholy, vile, hard, blind, and most wicked heari '' 
If I were mor« humbled, and more holy, then I should^ to him, 
ysnd think he would come lo mc. 0, lor tlie Lord's sake, dishonor 
Dot the grace of Christ. It is true, thou canst not come lo Christ 
till thou art loaden, and humbled, and separated from thy sin. 
Thou canst not be iugrafted into this Olive, unless thou beest cut, 
and cut off too from thy old root. Yet remember forever, that 
no more sorrow for sin, no more sejiaralion from sin, is necessary 
to.4hy closing with Christ, than so much as roi ikp^tjip- ^'lljpgi f"" 
l^thernot univiUinftjhat tne^Lora snouM luke^iiJiBiyf. And 

l-^fat her no t univiUinftjhat tne^Jjora snould juke^iiJiBiyf. And 
tili5w it, ff Tiiou seStesf for a greater measure of humiliation 
antecedent lo thy closing with Christ than this, thou showest the 
.^.iaore pridejhercin, who wilt rather go inlo thyself to make tliy- 
* self hofy"and humble, that ibou mightest be worthy of Cliriet, 
than go out of thyself, unto the Lord Jesus, to take lliy sin uwnj^^ 
in a word, who thinkosi Christ con not lovetliee, until thou makfl^ 
thyself fair, and when thou thinkest thyself so, (which is piidl 
wilt then think ollierwise ot Christ. The Lord, therefore, whi 
he tencheth his people how to return unio him after grievous sill 
directs Ihcm to this course — not to go about llie bush lo r 
their iniquities themselves, or to stay and live securely ii 
sins, until the Lord did it himself ; but bids them come tohim,ai 

' «Ry, "Take away (Lord) ail inquities." (Hos. xiv. 1-3.) You 
eliklt see " Ephrniin bemoaning Limsclf." (Jer. xxi. 18.) But 
liQW? Dotli he iay he feels his sins now all removed ? No, l>iit 
be desires ibe Lord to turn Iiitn, and then (sailh he) I shall be 

As if he should say, Lord, I sliall uerer lura from this slab- 
born, vile heart, nor so much as turn to tbec, to take it away, un- 
less thou dost turn me, and tboa I shall be turned lo purpose. 
What saith the penitent church ? " Come," say tliey, " 1*^1 us go 
unto the Lord." They might object and say, Alas! the Lord is 
our enemy, and wounds us, and hikth broken us lo pieces ; we nfc 
not yet heated, but lie dead as well as wounded ; shnll such dead 
■pirits live '( Mark whnt follows : True indeed, " He hath nouild- 
vd us ; " let us therefore go to him, that he may heal us, and " alter 
two days he will revive us." The Lord requires no more of us 
than thus (o come to him. Indeedyafler a Christian is in Christ, 
lalwr for more and more sense of sin, that may drive you nearer , 
Mid nearer unto ChrisL Yet know before you come to lum, tho 
Lord requires no more than this ; and as he requires no more 
tluin this, so it is his own Spirit (not our abilities) that must also 
work this : and thus much he will work, and doth require of all 
whutn he pur()oseth to save. If thou wilt not come to Christ tii 
take away thy sins, thou slialt undoubtedly perish in them. If 
the Lord work that sorrow, no as to be willing the Lord should 
take thcro away, thou shall be undoubtedly saved from ihom. 

If you would know what measure of willingness lo havo 
Christ take away sin is required, you shall hear when we come 
to aorta the fourth particular in Ih« doctrine of faith. 

If you further ask, how ihe Spirit works this loosening from 
sin in the work of compunction, — 

I answer^ The Spirit of Christ works this by a double act. 1. w 
Moial- 2. FhysieaL 
^ Aa in the TSoHTOBBh of the soul by faith unto God, the Spirit is 

It imfy K moral n^nt persuading , but also a superw iturfll rri""' 

iyjically working the heart to>elieve. by a divine and im ine- 

■ _._ , .... Jpirit iTolIi 

■ftect (he hcarl with fi-'ar and.£aiTQwmaO'l!x> ^"' '''■" "'*'* never 
take away sin, as we see in Judas and Cain, deeply affected and 
Kfllicied in spirit, and yet in their sin. And therefore the Spirit \ 
puts forth it* own hand physically o r immediately, and bis own 
»nn brings solvation lo us, by a lurtlier secret ijom^djalf stroke, 
larning ilie iron neck, cutting the iron "sinpw3~orsiD, and so 
makes this disunion or separation. You tliink it is easy to be 

L willing that Christ ihoutd come and tnke away all your una] 
■ VOL, I. 14 


1 1«11 you. 


iiipoteni arm of the Lord, tliat instructed .Ter 
H smaller mtiitpr, can only instruct you here ; both tl 
acts ever go together nccording to the tueasi ' ' 

Utter Clin not be without the first, the tiritt ■£ 

But whfit evil in sin doth the Spirit morally affect the heart 
with, and so physically turn it from sin F 

He afTccU the eoul with it as tlip ^^-ga'pat f"'' = hy sin I taean 
not na considered without death, (for at this time the sout is not 
HO npirilual as that sin without consideration of death and wratli 
duo to it slioiihl affect it,} but sin and death: sin armed with 
wrath, sin working death, prieka the heart as the m'atCMt ev jj, 
and so lets out that core at the bottom, as may fit the soul for 
healing. For, — 

1. If the Spirit make a man feel sin truly, the soul feek it as 
it is ; it is not the name and talk of the danger of sin that 
troubles it, hut the spirit (ever making things real) loadx the 
Boul with it indeed, and as it i@ : now it ie the greatest evil, and 
therefore ao it feels sin. Believe il, you never felt sin indeed 

V as it is, if you have not fell it thus. 

2. Else no man will prize Christ as the greatest good, without 
whidi no man shall have h im. 

3. Else a man will live and con tinue in sin. If sin had been 
a greater evil to Pilale^ffiafnhpnosa ot Cesar's friendship, he 
would never have crucified Christ. If sin had been a greater 
bvil (o Jehu than the loss of his kingdom, be had never kept up 
the two calves. If sin were a greater evil than poverty, shame, 
grief in this world, many a professor would never lose Christ 
and a good conscience too, for a little gain, profit, or honor. 
Beloved, the great curse and wralh of the Lord upon all men in 
the world almost is this, that the greatest evils should be the 
least of all felt, and the smallest evils most uf all complained 
of. What is death, that only separates thy soul from thy boily. 
to sin, that separates God blessed forever from thy soul ? and 
therefore the Lord Jesus will remove this curse trtun whom he 

■ But you will say, What is that evil the 

H in sin, that thus afl'ecta the heart with it, 

H This is the last difhculty here. 

^t , There is a threefold evil especially seen in sin: — 

^K t 1. The evil of torment an d anguish. 

^B ' f 2- The evil of wrong a nd i niurv to trod. 

H LS. The evil of icgujUion of the soul from God. 

^B \tYtt first may affect reprobates, as Saul and Judi 

^1 Bore distressed when they felt the anguish of 

«s at this time 
greatest evil ? 


The Beconil is only in those who are ai-n.nliy jiistifl'"|| r..^;if»l, , 
and «""'•''*''''<- who lament sin as it ia ngaiiii>t GuU. and a God 
reconciled to [hem, and as it is against the lifi' of God begun in 
them [ and hcnL-e they crj out of it as a body of death. 

The third the elect feel at this first stroke and wound which 
tltc Spirit gives ihem ; the an^ish of sin indeed lies sore ufioa 
them, but this much more. Christ is come lo seek that which 
is loat. The sheep is tost, when first it is separated and gone 
from the owner ; secondly, when it knowa not liuw to rutura 
agnio, unless the shepherd find it and carry it home : bo that 
Boul is properly and truly lost that leels itself separated and 
gone from God, knowing not how to return to him tigain, unless 
the Lord come and titke it upon his shoulders, and carry it in 
bis arms ; this lies heavy upon it, viz., that it is gone from God, 
and wholly separated from all union lo him, and communion with 
him. Vou may observe, (John svi. 9.) that the Spirit convinces 
of sin. How ? " Because they believe not in me." 1. Because 
they shall see and feel themselves quite separated from me ; 
they shall hear of my glory and riches of mercy, and that hap- 
piness whiuli all that have me fhall and do enjoy; but they 
shall mourn that they have no pari nor portion in these things ; 
they shall mourn that they live without me, and that (bey liave 
lived so long without me. 

1 confess many other considerations of the evil of sin come 
now in, but this is the main clianDel where all the other rivulets 
empty themselves. And hence it is that the soul, under this 
stroke, is in a slate of seeking onlvjj-ei finds nothing ; ii seeks 
God and CBrisi, and (hereIore"Teel3 a want, a loss of both by 
sin ; for the end of all the fears, terrors, sorrows, etc., upon the 
elect, is to bring them back a^in to God. and into fellowsh)|) 
with God, the only blessedneis of man. Now, if the soul 
ordained and made for this end should not feel its present sepa- 
ration from God by sin, and the bitterness of the evil of it, it 
would never seek to return again to him as to his greatest good, 
Bor desire ever lo come into his bosom oguin ; fur look as 
wounds the soul, so the soul seeks fur healing of it ; if only the 
torment of sin wound, ease of conscience from that anguish will 
heal it: so if separation from God wound the heart, only union 
and comntunion with God trill heal il, and comfort it again. 
The Lopd Christ therefore having laid his hand upon the soul lo 
, bring it back to himself first, and so to the Falher, being de-' 
aigned to gaiher in all the outcasts of Israel, those he over 
makes lo feel themsulvus oulcnsld, as cast away out of God's 
blessed sight and presence, that so they may desire at last to 


come home agnin : reprobalcA iiol made for itiis end bave not tl 
Bense of bid, ibe mcnns of ihcir vulum. AnJ lience it » I 
tlie souls of [Loee God f^uTcs are never qaiut uutil ihej n 
God, and hare communion wilh hiin; but thej nioiirn for ibeir 
distance from bim, aod the biding of his face, until the Lord 
shine forth again : v^'hereaa, every one eisc, though much 
troubled, yet sits down contented with any litlle odd thing, tJ 
serves lo quiet them for the lime, befoi'e the Lord return 
them, or ihey enter iu(o their reel, in that inefiiiblc cominuE 
with Iiim. 

Let me now make application of this, before I proceed 1 
open the next pArlieuUir of humiliation. 

This may show us the great raUinke of t\ 

1. Such as think lli-i-g ;» mi m-^^paait yrJaTiy 'Pffff, pP "MfiTT 

lael bro the ag plicaiion of tlie remedy or tlieir eTosing wilh C hrist; 
blouse. Bay lliey, wlierw "flier* is sense there i 

;eed tfl 

i w TaeTpUI i 
and feeling arising from life,) and where there is life theg jjfc 
Phrist nirnndj- And hence it is that ihey wouTd not have tli*- 
law first preached in these days, but the gospel : the other ii 
"go round about the bush, 

I answer, that for my own part Ihb doelrine (of seeing 
feeling our misery before the remedy) is so universally receivi 
by all solid divinea, both at home and abroad, that 1 meet v * 
end the contrary opinion so cross lo the Holy Scriptures, 
general experience of the saints, and the preaching of the othn 
BO abundantly seated to be God's own way by his rich blessings 
on the labors of his servants faithful (o bim heroin, that were 
it not for the sake of Bome weak and misled, I should not dare 
to question it; the Lord himself so expressly speaking, that be 
" came not to coll the righteous," but on the contrary, only to heal 
^,tbe sick, who know and feel their sickness chiefly^ b^Uie law, 

J(l{om. iii. 20.)~DoBt thoii tbink, therctore, that there is spirit- 
ual life wherever there is any sense P Then I say the devib aiul> 
damned in bell have much spiritual life, for they feel their 

' As for the preaehing of the gospel before the law to show 

misery, it is true that the goB{>el is to be looked at as Utfijnaja 
enii yet you must use the lueada, before you can come to the 
end, by the preaching uf the. law,^r misery in despising the 
gospel. End and means have been ever good friends, and you 
may join them well together ; you can not sever them without 
dantfer. I do observe that the apostles ever used this method; 
^ul first proves Jews and Gentiles lo be under sin, in abnoat 

[ f the first three chapters of the Bomans, before he opeas Iha 




doctrine of juscificaiioo by fnith in Christ. I ilo not observe 
' ttal CTcr ttiere was so clear and manifest opening of man's 
miaer^ as by Christ and his ap<fc*(lea, who brought in the clear- 
Mt revelations of tlie remedy. I do nof r«ad in Moses, or in all 
the prophets, such full and plain ex[>res9iona of our misery as in 
the New Testament — " The worm that never dies." " The fire 
tbnt never goes out," " The wrath to come," etc. ; and therefore, 
assuredly they thought this no back door, but faith the door to 
Christ, and this is the way to faith. To say that a man mtut 
first have Christ and life, before he feel any spiritual misery, 
is to say that a Christian mnat first be healed, Uiat he may bo " 
sick; cured, that he mny be wounded; receive the Spirit of 
adoption, before he receive ; and that he may reeeive the spirit 
of bondage to fear again. 

If minM [crs _ shall [ireach iho remedy before they show miser 
worGiTliis age,Tliat sliall Be deprived oT tliose blessm^wTiii 
the former gloried, in, and blessed the Lord for. Mark tliose 
men that deny the use of the law to lead unto Christ, if tbey do 
not fall in lime to oppose some main point of the gospel. For it 
ia a righteous thing, but a heavy plague, for the Lord to suffer i 
such men to obscure the gospel, that in their judgments lealously ' | 
dislike this use of the law. You must preach the remedy; llmt 
b true ; but you must also first preiu'h the woe and misery of 
men, or rather so mix them together, as the hearts of hearers may 
be deeply affected with both; but first with their misery. It 
argues a greater consumption of tlie Spirit of grace when Chris- 
tians* lives are preserved only by alchymy and choice cordiak, 
notions about Christ, nay, choice ones, too, or else the old and 
ordinary food of the eoimtry will nut down. I tell yon,_ili ft, f ™ 
main wound of Cbrialian s is want of deep humili^tiona and ea si- 
il ias down ; anj if you believe it not now, it may be. pestilen 
awordi ana fumine shall teach you this doctrine, when the Lor<I 
■ball make these things wound you to the very heart, and put yuu 
to your wits' end, that were not, that would not in Season be, _ 
wounded at the heart with sin. II 

Artt we troubled with loo many wounded consciences in tliese'^l 
timc«. that we are so soticiious of coining new principles of 
peace? What is every man by nature but a kinU of an infinilo 
-a>nl ?AU the sins tJiai fill enrlh and hell are in every one mans ' 
lieu^^or siu in man is endless ; and cunst not tliuu endure to 1m 
n? PJoFllIng Ih wvile as Christ to a man not unhum-> 

162 THE 80CND BEL1KVE&. 

the work of the law, berore Christ nan be i^ceived ; 
think there is no such fceliag uf misery as halh been mendonc 
but that it ie common lo lliu reprobate as lo the eiecl, and c 
quenily that i_n_ieme of sin there i s no auch s pecial VfQi : k.of tf 
Spirit lu separalea itffi-Hrat ffom sin before it comes unto Chri; 
liut ibitt this is done al\er the soul is in Christ by failb, i 
aandiflcalion, being first justified bj faith. 

This ie the judgment of laan^ holy and learned; and thei 
fore, so long as there is no disagreement in thu substance of ll 
doclrinq, it should not trouble us; only let it be coosident 
whether what is said is not the Iriilh of Christ; and if it be, k 
UB not cast it aside. The Jewish rabbins have a speech i 
this day very frequent in ihi^ir writings — JVon est im Itgt %mit 
literula a qua non magni lutprnn lunt montei. It is mtieh' 
more true of every truth, and if I mistikke not, much depends 
u[)un the right understundiiig of this point. 

\ That, therefore, 1. There must be some sense of misery befora 
the application of tlie rcmcJy. 

--. 2. That this compunction or sense of misery b wrought l( 
the Spirit of Christ, not the power of man to prepare bin 
thereby for further grace. _ 

3. That tb^se terrors and »»rrnwa_ip thn e\t<i-\ ijp Yirt"~'fr 
•/ differ" from Ibose in the reproKte ; the one drivinf j t he bouI to 
Christ, the olb^r not rTHITse aPg" agr^^on aU bands. The ques- 
Uon only is. Whether there is this further Stroke of seveiiog the 
soul from sin, conjoined with the terrors and sorrows in the elect 
before Uieir closing with Chrisl, which is not in the reprobate; 
or in one word, whether there is not a special work of tlie Spirit, 
turning (at least in order of nulure) the soul from sin, before llu 
soul returns by faith unto Cbriit. 

For the atHrmaiive I leave several considerations. 

\ That there is gratia adua/it, or act unl gra ce, as well 
ualit, or hn'riVUfti IV^r." ■ learned Ferrius malTes a vaat difft 
euce between Ihem; and iherefoi'e to think ihut there can be 
power of sin removed but by habitual or sanclilying graeor 
unsound; for actual gmcc mitydo it; the Spirit may lake ami_ 
sin mediately by hitbitual grace, and yet it can do it immeiliatcljr' 
alao by an o mnipotent act , by that 

\-UW. or movTngp'ftffl! CI 
-feast Mm out by 

y oeioTB 

,i,i..h i 

called actual, acluat- 

„ f,, . ilirist can and must first binTtT 
und' cast him out by ibis working or actual grace, bcf< 
dwuUs in the house of man's b^arl, by liabiluul and sanctitying 
t grace. The ganlener's knife may immediately cut off a scion 
fi'om a tree, thereby taking nway idl its power to grow there any 
more, before it huth a power to bring fortb any fruit, which ia_ 
wrought only by implunting it into another stock. New creatii 



(which k at first conversion,) may well be wiibout liabiluol graces 
that are but rreaturea. 

Whetbcir any innn siucc the fall ia a subject im mediately capa< 
hie of sanctifying or hftbitual grace ; or whether any unregcn- 
erale man ia in a next diBpo8ition to receive 9uch grace ; as the 
air is immediately of light, out of which the dHrlinesB is expelled 
by light, and so the habits of grace do expel Ihe habits B ' 
power of aln, (say some.) I suppose the ainrmiitive is m 
false, and in near affinity with some grotis points of Arminianismr 
Adam, in his pure naturals, and considered merely aa a living! 
soul, was Bueh a eubjecH I'l^B a white paper, fitted immediately I 
to take the impression of God's image ; but since, by his fall, 
Bin is fallen like a mighty blot upon the soul, whereby a man not 
only wants grace, as the dark air doth light, but also resists . 
grace. (John xiv. 17.) Ucnce this resistance must be first tak«i 
away, before the Lord introduce his image again. To say tha'H 
man can of himself dispose himself unto grace, was Felagianism it 
Affuinas'fi lime : yuilutuiG disposilTon is nCcmsitryTsailli iTeirius j 
Dot unto actual grace, or that which is wrought u{>on a man, pe 
modum aeiut. (as he sailh.) but unto the reception of habitual o 
sanctifying grace, it being in the soul per modum fomut, no form 
being introduced but into maten'ain dttpoiitam, i 
or prepared, or into such a vessel which is imn 

., matteV JuixLj 
1 iatelycapablej 4 

There is in man a double resistance against grace. ^ 

1. Of a holy frame of grace, bjori(jinal__corni[ition, which !■< 
opposite to original and renewed hoImess7or to this holy frame. 

i. Of llie God of grace himself when he comes to work it.\ 
(.lob xxi. U. Kzck. xxiv. 14.) 

The tint is taken away in that which we call the spirit of 
jBDditf^tioi), after faith ; the second is taken away not only in 
Ihe act of iCas by terrors it may be in reprobates, (P». Ixvi. 2.) 
but in MXaa measure in the inwnrd root and disposition of ilt 
(only in the elect,) there being (as hath been said) no more scpa- 
mtion from sin, at this time required, than so much as may make 
Iha soul cwme to th« Lord to take it away, or at least not un- 
willing, not resisting the Loi'd, when he coraea to do it himself. 

Whether dotli not the work of union un 
our communion with Christ. 1 suppose it 
Ik! before communion ; and that 
work of grace as peculiar to the elect 

Now, justification and saiiclilicaiion i 
lunion with him, and follow 

Christ go befotf. 
• ■ ■ ■ th«l 

i undeniable, that 
lion to Chnst is n 
j communion with hiip. 
B two parts of our com- 
. (Rom. viii. 1.) Our. 

union therefore must be before ihe.'e, of which there are two parta* 
. or rather two things on our part, necessarily required to it: — 


viM oliv 

inuitt goBeJ'ore me !>i>oonJ ; lor where there is perti^ct resislnnce, 
there cai9>*' >'*) perfecl union. But tnke a man in^ning upon 
tbis old root of nulure, ihen? is nothing hut perfect resblance, 
(Rota. viii. 7;) and llicrcforc thai resisliuice must first be taken 
away, before the Lord draw the soul to Christ, and by faitlgi J 
imgilnDt it into Christ. In a word, T »ee not how a man a 
wholly resist God and Christ, and yet be united nnio him at tl 
same instant; and therefore the one (in order of nature at least)'^ 
goes before the other : and therefore let any man livinfr provai^ 
his union to Christ, and to his lust also, if he can. You wT* 
believe in Christ, many of you, and yet you will have you 
whores, and cups, and lusts, and pride, and world too, and op* 
pone all the means that would have you from these idso. I tell 
you, you shall lind one dny liovr miserably deceived you have 
been herein. " You can not sen'e God and Mammon. Mow can 
ye believe," snitli Christ, (Jolui v, 44.) " that seek honor one of 
another ? " If you ean have Chrisl, and be ambitious too, take 
him ; but how can you believe till the Lord hath broken you off 
from thence ?- 

Whether vocation (a^ peculiar to the elect as sanctificalion) J 
doth not go before justification and glorification. (Rom. viiL SO.)i>i| 
Whether also there are not two things in effectual vocation. 

1. Is not Christ that good, the term to which the soul i 
firstly called f 

2. la not sin an d world, that evil, the term from which th»l 
soul is called 't 1 supjiose it is evident Ihat the soul is effect" J 
ually calloJ, and therefore actually and firstly turned from darb^ 
new to light, from the power of Satan unto God. First froml 
darkness, then unto light; ti ret from the power of Saitui, tlieCi 
unto God ; as is evident by the apostle's own words, (Acl^ 
xxvi. 18,) where he methodically \tts down the wonderful wo ' 
of Christ's grace by his ministry : the first is, " to turn them fi 
darkness to light, and from Satan's power unto God," which a 
the two parts of vocation, " that they may receive forgivene 

of sins" in justification, (vocation being a means to this end,) 
that they may receive an inheritance in glorification among Buch 
as, being justified, are sanctified also by failh in his name. Tha 
apuiitle doth not say that he was to return men to light and unto 
God, and so turn them from darkness and from the power of Sa- 
tan, (though this is true iu some sense,) but he was first to tarn 
from darkness and Satiin, and so to return them unto light, ami 
Hod in Christ. For how is it possible lo be turned unto Chr' 


and yet then ateo lo be lurocd to fin and Satan ? Dotli it not 
iiiil>lj a cotitradiclion, to be turned toward sin, (which is ever 
from Christ,) and yet to be turned toward Christ together ? All 
divines affirm generally that in the working of faith the Lord 
makes the soul witling to have Christ, (Fa. ci. 3, 3,) but withal 
they affirm thai of unwilling ho makes willing ; And therefore it 
follows that the Lord must first remove that unwillinfpiess before 
it can be willing, it being impossible lo be both willing and un- 
willii^ togctJier. 

Whether the cause of all that counterfeit coin and h3'pocrisy 
in ihia professing age doth not nrisc from this root, viz., not 
havhig this wouml at first, hut only some trouble for sin with- 
out separation from it, sore throes without dehverance from sin. 
Is not this the death of most, if not all, wicked men living? 
How many are there that clasp about Christ, and yet prove 
enemies to the cross of Christ — fall from Christ scandalously 
or secretly afterward 1 What is the reason of it ? Certainly, 
if the Lord hod cut them off from their sin, they had never fallen 
to everlasting bondage in sin again ; but there the Spirit of Ood 
forsook them, the Lord not owning so much love to them. Con- 
sider seriously why the stony and thomy ground hearers (Matt, 
xiii.) came to nothing in their growth of seeming faith and sane- 
tification. Was the fault in the eeeil ? No, rerity, hut only in 
' the ground. The one was broken, but not deep enough. The 
other was broken deep, but not through enough. The roots of 
tlioms choked them. The lusts and cores of the world were not 
destroyed first, and therefore they destroyed that ground. 

1 conclude therefore with that of Jeremy, " Break up your 
fallow grounds." Seek to the Lord to break them for you, "and 
sow not among thorns." Take heed of such brokenness which 
removes not the thorns of sinful, secret stubbornness, " lest the 
wroth of the Lord break out against you, and burn that none 
can quench it." Do not cut off John Baptiiii'* head, you that 
con be content to hear him gladly, and do many things. But 
he must not touch your Herodios, and make a divoreu tliere ; 
but suSer him lo come in the spirit and power of Elia^ nay, of 
Christ Jesus, to beat down your mountains, fill up your valleys, 
moke your crooked, rough wavd smooth, that you see the glorjr 
of the Lord Jesus, without which he shall he ever hid fi'om you. 
Cry. yott faithful servants of the Lord, that " all flesh is gross, 
and all the glory of man," of sin, of world, " is a withered Howcr," 
that the LonI Je.^us may be revealed ever fresh, and swe«t, and ' 
precious in the eyes of the saints. 

The evidence of this truth in the general put blessed and 


learned Pcmblc upon another way ; for when he perceived (m 
himself winfesselh) rlinl it is ihe ilriclrmi.' ofnti Orllitxloj 
divines, »iz,, [hat at: tu"l fjUi'h " i\--' i 
besi de the gupernetiura] Illuminaiii'iL 
first icBcii In piirt. TroMTIB^iBtHraT j" 
men of nnwilllng, willing.) hereii]"'ri 
done by the spirit of Raaclifi<:ft[ion. ami one Mi[)(.'rn;i[iii':il qiiuli^ J 
of holinCM univcranlly infusei} in nil the powers of the soul i&J 
' once, so that the Spirit instantly first sanctities us and pul« life iit'j 
us ; then it ac/s in sorrow for, and detestation of, sin ; and so m 
come actually to believe. And because he foresaw the blow, 
vix^ that in this way Christians arc sanctified before tbey be jiu'4 
tified, he answers. Yes, we are justified declaratively after this, j 

Others (who follow Lim) answer more roundly, viz., that « 
are sanctified before wo arc really and actually justified, a 
herein differ from him. 

Now, when it is objected agtuoRt this, viz., that our vocfttU 

itiAcation, sanctitiealion bein g I 
""~r(Ro'n- viu. 9(1.) hcreupo*^ 
_ _ y affirm that vocation is th»n 

IHBB irith MMoOSSetdoo, ud not comprehended with glorificalioo. 

Others perceiving the evil of this error, vie., to place sanctifi- 
oation before justification, good fruits before a good tree, they do 
therefor e deny any saving g ork. whether of vogtU on or sanctifi- 
ciUlph, before justification. And hence, on the outer exU'eme, 
they do place a Christian's justification before his faith in voca- 
tion, or holiuess in his sanctification ; so that by this last opinion 
a Christian is not justified by faith, (which was Paul's phrase,) 
but rather (as he said wittily and wisely) faithed by his justifi- 
caliuii. Before I come to clear the truth in th ese spiritual i 
tidies, let this only be remembered, viz.. lliat Muictifi catiop . w 
Peinblft calls our spiritual life, may be taken f 

1. Largely. 2. Strictly. 

1. Largely ; for any awg kflojiigs of conscience, or acts of t) 
Spirit of life; and loirKlraeivS^S qmCRfflSrhy these acti 
and HO in a large sense sanctifiud linit. 

2. Strictly ; for those habitu of the life of holiness which an- 1 
opposite to the body of death in us ; and that we arc not first 
Banutified before we are justified in this sense, we shall manifest 
by and by. Only let me begin to show the em>r of the laat 
opmion first, viz., 1. That a Christian is not first justified befofto^ 
faith or vocation, may appear thus : — 

1. It is professedly cross to the whole c _- -. 

which saith, " We are justified by faith," and therefore o 

]ustinea Deiam>H 

L of ScriplurcjH 
:fore mrtbe^^H 



fiiith ; and tn sny ihnt ihc meanin* of such phrases is. ilmt we 
- arc justiAed (Wlamiively by faiili, nr io uiir i'l-tise nnd fii-liiig >n 
foro eonseienlia, is a mere device; fur our justHii'niiun is op- 
posed to the state of unrighleousness and condemnation iiuiiig 
befure, which condemnation is not only declarative, and in the 
court of coi»cience, but real, and in the court of Heaven ; for 
Eo »ailh the Scripture expressly. (John iii. IS.) " He ihal bcliev- 
elh not is condemned already j " and, (ver. 36,) " The wrath of 
Gotlalrideth on him;" and, (Gat. iit. 22.) "Tho Scripiura (whidi 
ia the sentence in God's courl) halh concluded all under mh." 
Hence a second argument ariselh : — 

2. ff a man be jusiilied before fmth. ihen an a ctual unbo- 
liever IB mbject to no cgndemnaiion. Uul this is exfS'^esffyTmia 
to tlie tetter ot thTlext.'^He tliat helieveth not is condemned 
already, (John iii. lA.) and the wrath of God doih tie upon liim." I 
The iiubjecls of non-eondemniitioii are those that t>e in Christ 
by faith. (Rom. viii. 1.) not out of Christ by unbelief. (R«m. xi. 
20.) There is indeeil a merited justification by Christ's death, 
tind a virtual or exemplary justification in Christ's resurrection, 
as in oar head and surely; and both these were t>efore not only, 
our faith, but our very being ; bill to say that wc are therefore ^ | 
actually justified before faith, because our justificniion was mer- 
ited before we had faith, gives us a just ground of affirming that 
we are actually sanctified while we arc in the slate of nature < 
unsanciified. (Eph. ii. I.) l>ecBa9e our sanctification was merited 
by Christ before we had any being in him. 

We must indeed be made good trees by faJtlt, in Christ's 
righteousness before we can bring forth any good fruits 
ncss. (3od makes us not good trees without being in Christ G 
(nTnTno more than we ar. " " 
without our being first i 
(offered in the goa[iel, and 

all other things with him. He doth not justify us without giving 
us his Son ; but having first given hiiu, gives us this also. 

2. That Ewiclification doth not go before justification may ap- 
pear thus : — 

1. If guilt of Adam's sin go before original pollution, (Rom. 
V. 12.) then imputation of Christ's righteousness before renewed 

2. To place sanct ideation before justification is quite cro&s to 
the apostle's prarlicc. (which is our pattern.) who first sought to 
be found in Christ, (Phil. iii. 0.) (in the work of union,) not hav- 
ing his own righteousness in tliu work of juslificutinn, (wliicb in 
order follows tlial,) that ho may tlien know him in the power c* 

of Ji&Il, 
1 trees without being in Christ byi j 
trees in contracting Adam*» gwltl 
n. God gives us first his SooJ 
ived by faith.) and then gives m . 



K 1^ 

his death and resurrection in snnctification, (here Mmcc 
tification,) if by any means he might attain to the resurre 
the dead in glorification, (ihc last of all.) 

3. This ie quite crops to the apostle's doctrine whiel 
juBlilicaiion the CAUse of san ctificatJo n, and therefore must n< 
gU llltfflnt K. (Rotn. v.^ SV'Bin goes'hefore spiritual and eterfud' 
death, to riglileousnef>s goes before spiritual life in SAoetifl- 
cation and eternal life in glory. The Lord holds forih Christ 
in the gospel first oa our. pro})iliation. (Rom. iii. 24,) and thea 
comes dying to sin, and living to God, in snnclilicalion. (Chi 
vi. 1.) Holiness i& the end of our actual reconciliation. ('" 
i. 21, 22.) — _ -. _ . 

4. If sanctification go before justification by fiuth, then 
Christian's communion with Christ goes before his union to hi 
by faith ; hut, oiif union is the foundation of communion, and it 
is iinpoBsible tliere should be communion without' some precedent 
onion. (1 Ckir. i. 30.) " Christ is mode righteousuess and sancti- 
fication." Unto whom ? Rcail the beginning of the verse, and JOQ^ 
shall see it is only to those that ho in Christ, which is bj faiih.*^ 

Let none say here (as some do) that we have union to Chrial_ 
first by the Spirit, n-ithout faith, in order going before failli ; fo^ 
understanding of which, let us a htlle consider of our union unt 
CInisl. Our union to Christ is not by the esseutinl prese nce a. 

a the Spirit, for that is in eve ry re aSTSs the Godhead is eveij 
where, in whom We ITve and more. This is common to the ' 
most wicked man, nay, to the vilest creature in the world. 
Hence it follows, that our union is by some act of the Spirit 

-^ , peraihsjjo-JJieelecJ) (who only shall have communion with 
CErEi^ working some real clumge in the soul, (for of real, do(-i 
relative union, I now speak t) this act can not he those lirst aclH 
ofTlie spirit of bondage, (for tliej are common unto rcprobatearifl 

itipy arp. Ihf■^^■^^lr ^ijlll^{^ lujgjui urp p«f n tiftj nntn t^i; pninn; Mj 

, gniim. Now, look, as disunion is the disjunution or separation of^ 

djvfrs tilings one from another, so union is the conjunction or 
■ joming of them together that were before severed. Hence that 
act of the Spirit in uniting us to Christ can be nothing else but 
the bringing back the soul unto Christ, or the conjunction of the 
soul unto Christ and into Christ, by bringing it back to bim, that 
I before this lay like a dry bone in the vaUey separated from him. 
^■T^us, (1 Cor, vL 17,) "He that is joined, or (as the word signi- 
fies) glued to the Lord, is one spirit with him." The Spirit, 
therefore, brings us to the Lord Christ, and so we are in him. 
I Mo w, the coming of the soul to Christ, whnt ia it but faith? 
^Jnjohn vi. 35.) Our union, therefore, is by f^th, not withotit it|^ 

for bj it only we that were once £«|)amte(l from him by i>in, and 
especially by unbelief, (Heb. iii. 12.) are now come nol only unto 
him, as iron unto the loniktoDc, (John vi. 87,) but (whicli is most 
near) into him, as branches into the vine, and so grow one with 
him ; and Lenoe those phrases in Scripture, to believe in Chnst, 
or into ChriaL I speak not Ibis ns if we were united to Christ 
without the Spirit on his part, (for the conjunction of things 
■everal mus t be mutual, if it be fi rm ;) I only show that we are 
not naile d before faith by the Spirit unio Christ, but that w e are 
jrrought by the Spirit.) whereby, pp our jjatliJ'SjBW 
ioeiLuiUaJiiLtiuand then, on his pari^ hc^jbytheperaon 
^^ thn S pirit, i^ mo9t_wonderfully united unto us. 'I'lie Cipirit 
)f act a in jT i e ^ "ulj lisjf acts us to good wor ks, 

it is the Bpiri l of obedience ; ja it J-nfuseHrhabitaoT grace, i 

ine gpifit ot sa nctifiealion ^os it jiaaists us continu ally, anj guides 


Uy, au U guides 

,1 of adoption ; 

US to oor end, and Wilnesselh favor, it is llie spirit o 
as it works fears of death and hell, it is ihe spirit of bondage ; 
but as it drives us from sin to Christ, eo it is the spirit of uuJon j 
and therefore to imagine union before and without faith By the 
Spirit, is but a spirit indeed, which when you come to feet it, 
you shall find it nothing, without flesh, or bones, or sinews. As 
our marriage union to Christ must have consent of faith on our 
part, wrought by the Spirit, or else the Lord Jesus is a vain suitor 
to us, eo now the Spirit, on Christ's part, must apprehend our faith, 
and dwell in us, who ollierwise shall snddeuly go a-wliorint; from 
him. (1 Pe^ i. 5. Eph. iii. 17.) 

3. That vocaiiou ia not all one with sanctification may * 
i^pear thus : — 

1. VogiliiaiiJaJiBlfire Juslificatian. (Kom. viil. 30.) But sanC' 
tificHtion is not before jusilAcalitm, as wc have proved, and tliere- 
fbre they arc not the some. 

2. SiUK-lification is the end of vocation. (1 Thess. iv. 7.) 
Ther^re it is 'ndttlw wime wHh il. - 

3. Faith is the p rincip al thing in vqca^n : the first part of it N 
being God's (^11, toe eeeond port being our Anstter to lliat call< 
MT rwHBBiyTrthat <!ft ll (Jer. iii. 2^.) Now, faith is no part of 
aanctifi cation, strictly taken, because it is the means and iustru- 

I ment of our juaiification and sane lilicat ion. ^Acts kiv!. 18:^ 
i Our hearts are said to be purified by faith, (Acts xv. 9 ;) not oiir 
\ lives only in Uie acts of holiness and purity, but our hearts in 
I ti>e habitual frame of them. ** I live by the faith of Ihe Son of 
I Goii," saith Paul. " We pass from death to lile by faith." (John 
I r. H i) therefore it is no part of our spiritual life. " You will 
como to mo" (which is faillij "that you may have lifoj"" 



TJbhn V. -10; vi. 50, SI ;) ihereforc/failli ie the inslrumental 
meaos of life, and thprefore no part of our life: as faith conif s 
by kearitif^uii]. therefore hearin g is no nart of faith, so juslifl- 
cflllun comes Ly faitli, iuid" therefore no part of Banctification ; all 
our life both of justification ami sanctifieulion is Inid np in Christ 
our head / this hfe, according lo God's great plot, shall never ho 
BSA but by coming to Christ for it, (Ileb. vii, 25.) else grac« and 
Christ should not be so much dishonored. (Kom. iv. lA,) "Ii 
jTof faith, that it might be of grace." Sanctifimtion thereloru 
X ^in tim grare npniied by fait h. J"niih ihe grace api>lyinR ; oy comioj: 
to Christ for it, we have it; and thereiore have it not when first 

I am sorry to be thus Inrge.ig^ less i)ractig al mat ters ; yet I 
have thought it not unuseftil, but verycomfortable, to a jioor pas- 
senger, not only to know his journey's end and the way iti general 
to it, but also the several stadia or lowns he is orderly lo pan 
through ; there is much wisdom of God to be seen not only in 
t 'lib work, but in liis manner and order of working; for want of 
i/ which I sec many Christians in these days f^l very foully 
into erroneous apprehensions in their judgments, the immediut>^ 
ground of many errors iti practice ; the objections made against 
whnt hfttb been delivered are for the principal of them answered : 
the main end, ray beloved, of propounding these things is, that 
you would look narrowly lo your union i O, take heed yon miss 
not there : if you close with Chrisij believe in Ch rist, and yet 
vnot cut off from your sin, viz^ that s|MrU or~resiatance st. ChcsT, 
you arc utterly and eternally undone. This is the condemnation 
of the world, not that men love darkness wholly, and hate light, 
but that they lovp i ^^knesa more than light; not that the un- 
clean spirit is not gone out, hut that he is not Bo cast out us never 
to return again ; the wound of all men, yea, the best of men that 
profoss Christ, and yet indeed out of Christ, lies in this: they 
were never severed from their sin by all their prayers, tears, 
fears, sorrows; and hence they never truly come to Christ; nnd 
hence perish in their sin. 

Trouble mo no more, therefore, in asking whether a Christian 
is in a state of happiness or misery in this condition. I answer. 
V }Ie is pregarativcly happy ; he is now passing from death to life, 
though not as yet wholly passed. Nor yet, wheifier there ts any 
yeaving work before union. I answer, No ; for what is said is 
one necessary ingredient to ihe working np of our union, as 
cutting off the branch from the old stock is necessary to the 
ingrafting it into the new: iuilecd, without faith it is impossible 
to please God ; nor do I say that this work doth plensej ' 


doth not pacify God, (for that is proper to Christ's perfect right- 
eausness received by faith :) jrel lu it is a work of hia own Spirit 
upon as, it is pleasing to him, (us the oflerworit of snnctiflcation 
is,) though it neither doth pacify him ; nor do I see how this 
doclrioQ is any way opposite to the free offer of grac Bflnd £hriat, 
1)ecau!ie it requires no more eep&ration trom Bin than that which 
drives them uoto Christ ; nay, which is lees, tlial makes them (hy 
the power of the Spirit) not resist, but yield to Christ, that he 
may come unio them and draw ttiem : you can not repent nor 
convert yourselves. " Be converted, therefore," (saith Peter, 
Auts iii. I'J.) "that you may receive remission of sins;" and in 
thU utTer the Spirit works ; and verily he that can truly receive 
Christ without that sense of misery as separates him from hLi sin, 
(as eicplained to you,) let him believe notwithstanding all that 
whicli Is said, and the Grod of heaven speak peace to him ; his 
fiiith shall not trouble me, if he be sur« it sh^l not one day de- /• 
ceive himself. / 

Of lamentation for the hardness of loen'a hearts in Iheae time< iV • 
as it is said (iie l^rtl JesuB ^ mourned " when he saw " tbe Hanl- 
neM of the people's hearts," (Mark iii. 5,) are there not some so far 
from this, as that they take pleasure in their sins, they are sugar 
under their tongues, as sweet as sleep, nay, as their lives ? and 
you CMne to puU away their limbs when you come to pluck away 
their sins. Though they have broke Sabbaths, neglected prayer, 
despUed the word, haled and mocked at the siunts, been stub- 
born to their parents, cursed and swore, (whidi made Peter go 
out and weep bitterly,) though lustful and wanton, (which broke 
David's bones.) though guilty of more sins than there be motes 
in the sun or stars in heaven, though their sins be crimson, and 
fill heaven with their cry, and all the earth with their burden, 
yet they mourn not ; never did it one hour together ; nay, they 
can not do it, because they will noL If you are weary and 
loaden, where are your unutterable groans? If wounded and 
bruised, where are your dolorous complaints? If sick, where is 
yuur equity for a physician ? If sad, where are your tears, in the 
day, in the night, morning and evening, alone by yourselves, and 
in eom)iany with others ? O, how great is the wrath of God, 
' luirduaing so many thousands at this day I Whence comes it tliat 
Christ is not priied, but from tbis senselessness? Name any 
i reason why the blessed gospel of peace, and all the sweet prom- 
I iacs of'life arc undervalued, but from hence: and what do you 
I hereby, poor creatures, by only Hfrgravate your sins, and mako 
I tkose that are little exceeding great in the eyes of God? Whciice 
kit is that you "treasure up wruth against the day of wrath." 


y [(Rom. ii. 2-5.) 'f^ in ti prdncaa i3 lliat which blunts the edge 
I God's ordinaaccs, whence Uod's poor minislprs sil bottovAiI 
|tbeir ckwets, seeing all God's seed lost upon bare corks. O, 
IB the condition of laaaj a man, and which is most fearful, 
means whicb should make the heart eensible inkke it n 
proud and nnsensiblc. Tyre, and Sidon. and Sodom are more 
tit to mourn than Chorazin and Capernaum, that have enjoyed 
humbling meanH long. Naj, how many be there thai mourn out 
their mournings, confess out their confessions, and by their own 
ihations grow more senseless afterward I J Did we ever live 
\ more 'Oir^"*'""^ lu-ffi.fg upp V ^Ye shall seldom meet with 
'OM broken with sin ; but haw few are broken from sin also! 
.Aad hence it is many a tall cedar that were set down in the table 
book for converted men, once much humbled, and now comfbrtcdf 
stay but a few years, you shall see more dangerous siOs of 

second growtli; one lunis drunkard, another covetous, aaol 
proud, imoihcr a sectary, another a very drj' leaf, a very formal* 
ist, anolher fully uf hiimorauB opinions, another ladeu with 
I scandalous lusts. Woe (o you that lament not now ; for you 
^fFSH mourn. Dost thou think that Christ should ever wipe off 
thy tears, that slieddcst none nt all? Dost thou think to reap in 
joy, that Eowest not witli these showers? Verily God will make 
his word good, (Prov. xxix. 1.) "lie that hardens his own 
Iheart shall perish suddenly." Hear this, you secure,_«yx()Kka^ 
^ BJnnera ; if ever God's hand be stretched ouf'suijucnty againat ■ 
tliee, in blasting thy estate, snatching away thy children, 
wife of Ihy bosom, the husband of thy delight; in staining 
name, vexing ihee with debts and crosses, sharp and sore, 
lingering sicknesses, know that all this comes upon thee for 
, liaisiJieatL-hut O, mourn for it now, you parents, children, 
vanta i the tokens of death urc upon you ; deji;:! 
fafsok-your- haart& for you i lie under God's hammer i . 
abute the ward,aud auSbr tlto Loi-d to li^e a way .tha t whicB 
grieves him must, even thy Uaay haart^ because it pneves tfie 
least: meditate much of thy woful condition; diew the bitter 
pi\i; remember death and rutting in the grave; that many are 
now in hell for their sins ; that Christ must die, or thou die fur 
the leeat sin ; remember how patient and long suffering the Lord 
hath been to thee, and how long he hath groaned under thy 
burden, that, it may be, though he would, yet be can not bear 
the load long; let these things be mused on, that Ihy heart m*!^ 
be at last sorrowful before it be too late. But O, the sad esla~ 
of many whh us, that can mourn for any evil except it he forU 
greatest — gin, a nd death, and wrath that lie upon tbeml.^ _ 


Tj fthnr ff| |r^ this sense of nii>" *''y| fftf Ulill^T™*^ 
How^jgui ]-ou MIICTfi in Uhriatt Ihat feel qotSj 

Qfexhortatton. |||__ 

of couTpUIIIJltiJii. Howj^iTOu 

vAUf THBB^ ffllliout him? ^t Droken CUri; 
good withogrT tTTiWq" ^I'-g -r^ : be alHicted aqd mourn, ve fimfj fi 
turn your langliter into mourning; tremble b> tiiiiik of that ■ 
wralh wliich burns down to the hoirom of hell, and under which 
Ihe eternal Son of God sweat drops of blood. Great sins, which 
thou knuwesi thou art guiltj of, cause great guilt, and great 
hardness of heart, and therefore are seldom forgiven or subdued 
without great affliction of spirit ; tLey have loaded the Lord long, 
titi^y must load (bee. Little sins are usually slighted and es- 
tenuaied, and therefore the Lord accounts tbem great ; and there- 
fore thy Boul roust be in bitterness for tliem before Ihe Lord will - 
pass them by. It ia not every trouble tlmi will serve the t 
Look that it be such as separates thy soul from sin, or else it 
separate between iby soul and God. I know it is j 

to bleed ; yet reinemTWr. he ttat bids thee " cast up and prepare the 
way of the I<ord." be hath promised that "every mountain shall 
be brought lovr, and tlie crooked ways made plain, and the rough 
smooth, and the valleys filled." He only can do it for thee, and 
will do it for some, it may be for Ihee. He that broke the heart 
of Manasseb and Paul, after their blood and blas])hemics, when 
they never desired any such thing, be can break thine much 
more when thou art desiring him to do it for thee. Here are 
many of you lhat fear you were np^r hnmhli;^ nnr hnnjpnpd y 
enough. 1 ray , fear it stilL Fear lest there be a stone in thev' 
bottom ; not b6 M U fltgeutinige and drive thy heart from Christ, 
but so as to feel a greater need of his grace lo soflen thy heart, 
and to take thy senselessness away. The Lord doth purposely 
eonimand thee "to plow up thy fallow ground," that thou 
mightest feel thy tmpoiency so lo do. and come to him to take it 
■way. Every thing will harden thee more and more until the 
Lord come and take thy stony heart away by his own hand. 
All tiud's kindness will make thee more bold to sin, and all God's 
judgments mora fierce and obstinate in sin, unleM the Lord put 
lo his hand. If Pharaoh's heurt be softened for a liuie, it v *" 
grow hunl again, if the Lord take it not away. The mua 

iherefore. for thee lo [n-t llij ;t iTnti[ i]i^inctioQ is. 1. To feci the e 

of thy hard heart; no surer token of^proimi|yt JliaB-luuJ- 
HPS*,'ir-eontiniiert"1ll'^- especially for thy huurl to grow luird 
aniU'r or after softening means, lis it wtu in PharHoh; 2. To. jCM 
look up to llic Lord in all unlinancvn, that he would take it away. '^ J 
Have not you great eaiise uf abundant tltaukfulnusa, f""~ 

13 • 



wbose hcsrls tlie Ixfrd hatb !el in fears and * _ 

your egtalea ? Tliu blinil world looks upon all troubles of voo' 
science as temptaiiona of the devil to despair, and the verj iraj 
lo run mad. And consider what the Lord hath done for you that 
have euch. What if the Lord had le(l you wilhpot all feeling, 
a« IhosH in Eph. iv. 19? What if the Lord had smitten you 
witll'a spirit of slumber, ag those Rom. x'l. 8 ? Would not yoar 
eolatc liave been then lamentable ? And have you no hearts to 
acknowledge his unspeakable TOodnesa in a-weakening of you, 
in shaking thy very loundufioiis:' Dost ihou think that any ever 
had sui'b u hiird heart its lliou haat ? Dost not say so in secret 
before the Lord sometimes? O, (hen what rich k race _ifl_ this to 
give thee any sense and feeling of thy si n^afiiT danger by it, 
though it be never so little in thine eyes! Some think these 
terrors are a judgment. It is true, if they were merely imagi- 
nary, or worldly and des|>erate ; but saith the apostle, (2 Cur. 
vii. 7,) " I thank God I made you sorry." Suppose thy sorrow 
eltould be only in reganl of the punishment of sin, yet this u 
the Lord's goodness to make thy heart so far sensible, that once 
didst go like a beast lo the slaughter, fearing no danger at all. 
•ytiq ypiy Tnpnng to prize favor Irum God is lo i««L.vnith, (as 
well as sin,) and the very rea.'on why ihe Lord halb let thee feel 
Ihy punishment heavy is, that thy soul might feel tlie evil of sin, 
by considering that ii' the IruJia be so bitter, what is then the 
cause. Bo not therefore weary of thy burden, so as to think 
the Lord pours out his vengeance on thee while thy trouble re- 
niains. O, consider that this is the hand of the Lord Jesus, and 
that he is now about to stive ihee, when he comes to work any 
co mpunction i n ilice — especially such as whereby he doih not 
oaty cut thyTieart with ffars and sorrows, but cut thee oil" from 
thy sin, so far only as bumbles thee, and drives thee to the Lord 
Christ to take them away. And so I come to the third parlicti- 
bii', of humiliation. ■ " 

Skction IV. 

The third Act of Christ't Power, whi 

iving thus broken the hea rt by 

Humiliation. ^H 
s work beforon^H 

The Lord Jesus, hi. „ .. _ _ 

lion, is not like a foolish builder tTariea^s^ TjTs wort li^ 
hnth fully finished it; and therefore, having thus wounded a 
poor sinner, he goes on to h umble him alsoj for though, 
large sense, ^.w^'m deiJ., lyin tAte p jn figf _'■ _a h 1 1 m 1 il e ji nj^ij^ ■ 
strictly taken/ the re is a great diiforence~ between Tfiein'ji 

i u »4 j 


iLercfore ho U said "to dwell with tbe conlrile and humble; " 
i. e., not only witli tho^ Uiat be n-oundcd with sin, but bumbled 
for SID, tilihough il is ccrUin the sou\ ia Gcldom or never cflcctu- 
ftlty wounded bat it is also humblcil at Itii; aame time. A mail 
may be wounded wtre even unto deatli, and yet th e pride of the 
infui is Buch that he will not fall down before hlDi that smites 
faim. So it is with many a poor sinner. The Lord halh sorely 
Kounded him that he will resist no more ; yet he will rather Ity 
lo his duties to heal him, or die ulone, and sink under his dis- 
coura^menls, than stoop. O beLoveO, man must down belore 
(he Lord Christ will take him up ; and therefore, in li. xl. 
5'7, ihQ glory of the Lord is promised lo be revealed. But 
what means must be used for tliis end? " Cry," saith the I^rd. 
" What shall I cry ? " saith he. Tbe Lord answers that all 
flesh is grasi, and that [he gl ory of it f wles, and that the people 
are tliit prass; i. e., not 'only that men a sins are vHeTlm that" 
Rieiii^Ives also are grass ; nay, tlieir glory and excellency is 
withering and fading ; and therefore not only mountains must h» 
pulled down, but all flesh and tbe glory of it wither, beforo the 
Lord shall be reveftle<l. 

I shall briefly open these four things: — 

1. Wliat is this humiliation? 

2. What need there is of it. 

3. What means the Lord useth to work it. 

4. What measure of it is here required. 
What is this humiliation ? 
Look, OS pride b that sin whereby a man conceited of some 

good in himself, and seeking some excellency to himself, exalts 
himself above God, so humiliation (in this place) is thai work of 
the Spirit whereby the soul, being broken off from self-conceit 
and srlf-conSdence in any good it hath or doth, sabmilieih untu 
or lioth Hi^J^r^ O71I, 10 |w< disposed of as he p lea6eth ..(l Pet. v 
G. Lev. XXVI. il.) That Too^iu compunction cuts the sinnei 
off from ilmt evil (bat is in him, so humiliation cuts it off from ^ 
all high eonceitt and self-confidence of that good^w hich ii in himi 
or which he seeks might be in hffO. : ana so ne foill is abased be- 
fore God. 

What need or necessity is there of ibis? Because,^ 

1. When the Lord hath wounded the hcarU of his elect, Ihi* 

is the immediate work of their hearts, (if the !>ird prevent 

tbetn not br hi* grace, oa many times he doth.) — thi^: ^••qi "? 

a ihw ■ '* 

M«k for 101 

le y ^™ 1 or, if ihoy find little or none, they then 

; for iom« in tfaemselTos, that iliereby thej may heat llieir 

woand, because they think thuf, that as th«jr sins have proroked 



God to an^r against tliem, so if now tbcy cad reform and loTC 

. ^lliuse aiiis, or. jf n ot, repeiil and be sorry for thorn, it now iliej' 
[iray, anil hear, and do as others ilo. tbey have Bome hope thai 
llils will kea] tfa vir wound, and pacify the Lord toward them, 
wiien tbcy see there in no [K?acc''in a sbfiil rourse, liiey wui 
therefore try if there be aiiy to be found in a good coarse; and 
look, as Adam, when he ^w his own shame aud nakedness, 
himself from God in the buiihes, and covered his nakedness v 
fig leaves, so the soul, not being alite to endure to see its oivb 
nitkcdneM and vilenc^s, not knowing Christ Jesus, and he tx 
v/lar to seek, doth therefore lab or to cover his wickednesa and a JMe 
fulness, which now he feels, by some oi' these tig leaves. Aat 
hence (Blicali vi. 7) tliey inquire "wherewith they should com 
before the Lord ; should iheybring rivers of oil, or lliansands ol 
lambs, or the first born of their body to remove the sin of tl 
soul?" Paul did account these duties gain, and set them at tl 
high rate, because he thought chat God did so himself. Whctf 
the Lord hath wounded the soul, the first voice it speaks 
What shall I do? Do? sailh conscience ; leave tliy sins, do 
well as others, do with all thy migbt and strength, pray, hear, a 
confer ; God accepts of good desires, and requires no more of any 
man but to do what he can. Uence the soul plies both oar^' 
though against wind and tide, and strives, and wrestles with hiii 
sins, and hopes one day to be better; and here ho reals, Ani 

^/obseTve it, look, as sin is his greatest evil, so the easting away of 
his sins, and seeking to be better, is very sweet to him ; and 
being so sweet, rests in what he hath, and seeks for what btt 
wants, and so hopes all will be well one day, and so stays heref 
although (Glod knows) it be without Christ, nor can not rest on 
him, though he hath heard of him a thousand times. And henc« 
it is, if they can not do any thing to ease themselves, then their 
hearts sink, or, it may be, quarrel with God, that he makes them 

1 not better. But, beloved, it is wonderful to see how many tim 

\ men rest in a little they have and do, 
^^ 2, But whiles it ia thus with the soul, he is incapable c 
Christ; for he that trusts to other tilings to save him, or Euake^ 
himself his own Saviour, or rests in his duties without a Savioiit 
he can never have Christ to save him. (Rom. ix. 32.) 
the Jews lost Christ's righteousness, because they sought it i 
by fiuth, but sought salvation by iheir own righteuusness. " " 
that maketh flesh his arm," (aa all duties and endeavors of a 
be, when trusted to.) the Lord saiih, "cursed he that i 
{Jer. xvii, 5, 6.) Only the I^rd doth not leave his elect hereil 
he that is marriedj mto the law (H orn, vii.) can not be matcbM^ 


unto Christ, till he be firsi divorccil, not from (he duties thein- 
wlven, but from tm3tinj[ _tu_ tL^, auiL->ailinE in jJicm. And Ji 
therefore, saith Paul, " I througEthe law am aead to it, that I 
might live unto God." He that truatelh to riches can not enter into 
the kingdom of beayen, no more tlian a camel through a needle's 
eye, because it is too liig for so narrow a room ; to he that trustelh 
Iff liiil 1i'lillir° ""'^ »'"'iii-« i» '"" '"5 fj rnl''.rJit.LjJj''"" The ' 
Lord must cut off thid spirit, and \&y it low, and make it stoop as 
vile before God, before it can have Chriiil in [his eslnle; the 
Lord must not only cut it off* froin ihia scIf-confideDce in duties, 
but idso to far forth as that the souL may lie under God, to be 
disposed of u be pleaseth. And tlie reason is, because such a 
loul i s unwilling to a^tq p, Ja unbu.uihled.i and he that is bo doth 
DOE oniy on tiis part resist God, but the Lord »lso resists him. 
^Lam. ir. 7, 8.) And hence you shall observe, many a one hath 
lain long under distress of eonscienee, because they have either 
rested in their duties, which could not quiet, or because they 
hare not so cast off their contidoiioe lu them, so as to lie down 
quietly l>eforc God, that he raay do whftt he will with them; 
being so long objects of God's reeistance, not of hla grace. By 
what mgjuii doih the Lord work this ? 

In general, by the Spirit, Jmroediatelr a cljqg 'Wfl th** "oul; J 
but after a Christian Mm Christ, lie hathby the habit ot hu- ' 
mility, and the virtue of faith, somepower tQ t""llMf li'mapl^-^^ 
but now the Spirit of Christ doth it immediately by its own Ota- 
nipotent bond ; else the proud heart would never down ; for we are 
first " created in Christ " (which is by God's omnipotent immediatfl 
act) unto good works, before we do from ourselves, or by the power 
of faitBrpiirforiEgiKHi works. (Eph. ii. 10.) These acta of 
Belf'^wofidence may not be stirring in all Christians ; but^n all 
men there is this frame of spirit, never to come to Christ if they 
can make any thing else serve to heal them or save them : and 
therefore the Spirit cuts off this sinful frame in part in all the I 
elect : he hews the roughness and [>nde of spirit off, that il may 
lie still upon the foundation it is now prepared for. Now, though 
the Spirit works this, yet it is not without the word; the word 
it works chiefly by is the law. (Gul, iii. 19,) " I through ihev* 
' Lm am'dradlo*tir* (I." e.,"fFoiii seeking any life or help from il.) 
' "that I might live unto God." 
I Now, the law doth this by a fourfold act. 

I 1. By discovering th& aeoMt ottrruplioftof the soul tn evcryx 

L duly, which it never saw before. Il once thought, I shall perish 
I for my sins, if I continue therein, without coiifeasion of them, or 
■ lorrow fur them ; but it also did think that this 


TOE SOt'Iit) 

Borrow, and trouble for ain, vrill serve to sare it, and make C 
accept of it; but the luw (while ihe soul is earnestly g 
against his sin) dis«>vering ihai in all these thero i« nothing b 
sin, even secret sins it did never see before, hereupon it begit 
thus to think: Can the^ebe ilietnetLnsofsanngof me, whieh beiq 
so eioful, can not but be the \evy causes of condemning of a 
know I must perish far the least Hn, anil now I see (hat in all 11 
do, I can do nothing eJse but sin. What made Paul " alive with- J 
out the law " ? You shaJl find (Ron), vii. 7) it was became he I 
did not know that lust, or the secret cootupi sconces and Itrat 1 
risings of the aoul lo sin, were sin : he saw not these secret eTilt f 
in all that which he did ; and hence he rested in his duties, as oi 
olive without Christ; but the Lord, by discovering this, let him j 
gee what little cause he had t« lift up his band, for any good he i 
did. So it is here, when the eonl s ees tha t all ita rigbtep naneM J 
is a men struQUB clo th, pollufed ^rItE~siir; now, those duties, whiel^ J 
li£e reeili^are trusted to before, ran into the hand, nay, heart of s '1 
poor sinner; and therefore now it feels little cause of resting on ' 
(hem any longer; now it sees the infinite holiness of God by the 
exceeding spiritualness of the law, it begins to cry oul, How can 
} stand or appear before him with such continual pollutions? 
2. By imtatiiig (w atirrinR up of original co rrup tion. 
' making more of that lo appear tlian ever before ; that if the sc 
thinks. All I do is defiled with sin, yet my heart is good, and so it 1 
rests there ; the Lord therefore stirs tliot dunghill, and lets '' 
more hellish nature than ever before, in that the holy and 1 
command of God {to its feeling) makes it worse, more rebeUiou%i| 
more averse from God. "When tlie commandment came, sin r 
vived," Btuth Paul, and that " which was for life was death it 
sin taking occasion by the law; and hence Paul came "to beelain 
and die" to alibis self-confidence. It was one of Luther's first po- 
sitions in opposing the pope's indulgences, that Lex et roiuniai tunt 
^iio adveriarii tine gratia irreconeiliabileg ; for the hiwand man'^ 
Iwill meeting together, the one holy, the other corrui>t, make fiercfrj 
|o|)position when the soul is under a lively work of the law ; liudil 
uy this irritation of the law, the Lord hath tliia end in his eleet^ 
lo make them feel what wretched hearts they have, becanse that * 
which is in Itself a means of good makes them (through man's 
J corruption) more vile to their feeling than ever before; and hence 
' p?om^those sad complaints on a soul under the humbling linnd of 
Christ : I am now worse than ever I was ; I grow e\'ery day worse «■ 
and worse. I have lost what once I had ; I once could praM 
and seek God with delight, and never well but when one du ~ 
was duue, to be in uwi^er; but now I am wonei all tbat a 

BD- J 


and sneclnetia in stM^king of bim, and la holy wAlkinjt, is gone ; / 
1 could ODL-e mourn for sin, but now a hard heart t akus bold of ^ 
me, that I have not 90 much as a heart lo aay thing that is good, 
nnr to ahed a tear for the greatest evil. It la true, I confess you 
may grow (to your feeling) wor^ and worse, and it is fit you 
should feel it, that lUe Lord hereby might pull down yonr proud 
liuart, and make you lie low ; it is the Lord's glorious wisdom 
lo wither alt your flowers, which refreshed you without Christ, 
thnt you might feel a need of him ; and therefore I say the Lord 
pulls away all those broken planks ihe soul once floated and 
rerrted uix>n, tlmt the aoul may sink in a holy despair of any 
hcl|> from any good it hath t the Lord shakes down all building 
en a sandy Ibundalion, and ihen the soul cries out, 
^e«i^ting here. 

3. By loading, tiring, and wearying the sou l by ita ■ 
deavor*, until il can stir no moref foi ihlsis m every 
nalill*,' — WKen he seeSlianiTrhe doth is sinful, and all he hatfi, 
his heart and nature, lo be most sinful ; yet he will not yet 
am of himself, because he hopes, tliougb he be for the present thus 
vile, yet he hopes, for future lime, bis heart may grow better, / 
and himself do better than now ; and hence it is that he strives, 1/ 
*nd aeeks, and endeavors to his utmost, to set up himself again, 
and lo gain cure lo all hia troubles by his daties : now, the lav, 
whose officeis_lii.cominan^ but not to give strenglli, and the 
fiptill llnT^uould give strength withdrawing itself, because it 
knows ihe soul would rest therein without Christ ; hence it comes 
lo pass that the soul, teeling itself to labor only in the fire and 
smoke, and to be still as miserable and sinful as ever before, 
hereupon it is quite tired out, and sits down weary, not only of 
its sin, but of its work i and now cries out, I see now what a vile 
and undone wretch I am ; I can do nothing for God or for myself; 
only I can sin and destroy myself; all that I am is vile, and all 
that 1 do is vile ; I now see that I am indeed poor, and blind, and 
miaerubie, and naked. And the truth is. beloved, here come in 
the greatest dejections of spirit ; for when the Lord smiles the 
snul for sin, it hopeis that, by leaving of sin and doing better, it 
may do well 1 but when it sees that there is no hope here of 
healing the breach between God and itself, now it falls low 
indeed ; and I take this lo bo the true meaning of Matt. xi. 30, ' 
*' Ve that labor," i. e., you that are wearied in your own way, in '' 
seeking rest lo your souls by your own bard labor or works, 
(as the woril Kniurt'; signities.) and are lired nut therein, and 
now laden indeed with sin nnd the heavy pressure of that, 
Inding no enae by all tlmt whiuh yuu do : " Come to me," saith 

160 TBB eocKD BELiEvea. 

Christ, "and you sLall then find rest unio your Bouh." Thn 
Jews, seeking to establish their oivn righteousness, — seekin; 
any, if by any means they might eslablisli it, — lost Christ ; 
Lord, therefore, will make hia elect know they shall seek bet 
for ease in Tain, nnd therefore tires them out. 

4. By clearing, n p the e quity and justic e of God in the laifc M 
if llie LordsbouTd never' pEyHWparflfth W, riW show ai^l 
respect or favor to it; for this is llie frame of eyery man's heaiVj 
if he can not find rest in his duties and endeavors, as he once' 
expected he should, but sees sin and weakness, death and con- 
d(.-tnnalion, wrapping him about (like Jonah's weeds) in all he 
doih, then his heart sinks, and quarrels, and falls off farther 
from Christ by discouragement, and grows secretly impatient 
that there should be no mercy lef\ for him ; because it thinks 
now the Lord's eternal purpose is to exclude him ; tor if ih^a 
were any thoughts of peace toward him, he should have found 
peace before now, having so earnestly and frequently sought tba 
Jjord. and having done so much, and forsaken his sinful wayi,. 
aeuording to his own commandmeat from him. And hence it 
is, you shall find it a certain truth that the soul is turned back 
as far from God by sinking discouraging sorrows for sin, as evQF 
it was to a stale of security by the pleasures of sin ; and hence 

' sometimes it thinks it_is vain Id seek any more, and hence leaves 
oR* duties ; anflir conscience force it to them, yet it sinks again, 
because its foot is not stablished upon the rock Christ, but upon 
the weakness of the waters of its own abilities and endeavon. , 
What, therefore, should the soul do in this case to come to God?' 
Xl knows not; it can not fly from him, it dare not, it shall notr' 

^-tteS^iirit, therefore, by revealing how e(^ual a nd j ^st it is^ for 
tlie iiord never" to regard or look nfier Tl "more,Tieca age Jtj t^I""- 
BinKeiT and is slill so sinful, makes it hereby' to fiitl 3own 
proerriife in the dust before llie Lord, as worthy of nothing 
but shame and confusion, and so kisseth the rod, and turns tte 
other check unto the Lord, even smiling of him, acknowledging, 
if the Lord show mercy, it will be wonderful; if not, yet the 

.. Lord is righteous, and therefore hath no cause lo quarrel against 
him for denying special mercy to him, to whom he doth not owo 

I a bit of bread. And now the soul is indeed humbled, becaase 
it submits to be disposed of as God plcaseth. Thus the church, 
in her humiliation, (Lam. iii. 22,) having, in llie former part 
of the chapter, " drunk the wormwood and the gall," at last lies 
down and professeth, " It is the Lord's roercy it is not con- 
sumed ; " and verse 29, " Ho puts his mouth to the dust if there 
Baay be any Iwpe ; " and verse 39, " Why should a living mail 



complain for the punittlinaeot of h'n sia ? " Yuu ihink tbe Lord 
Oolb you wrong, and negli^cta jour good and liis own glor; too, 
if he doth not give you pcue and pardon, griicv and mercjr, 
cvv'ii la tlio utmoet of your asking, and ibeu ihiok you bava 
hcuce good cause to fret, and aiok, and be discouraged. No, no ; 
Ihc Lord will pull down those mountains, tliose high thoughts, a 
make you lie low at hb feel, and acknowledge t iiat it i» infiTi iti' ' 
.mercy you are aliye, an ) } not conautned ; and (bat there is 
any nope or poasibility oimercy i aniT llial you are out of the 
iK'tbennuct pit^ and that if he should never pity you, yet he 
dulh you no wrong, but that which ia equal and just, and that 
it is tit your sinful, froward wills should atoup to hit holy, 
righteous, and good will, ruther than that it should sloop and 
be croaked according unto youn. Jieliere it, breiliren, " he 
that judgeth not himself " thus, ■' shall be judgedof the Lord:" 
liijw can you have mercy that will aet yourselves up in God's 
iHivereign throne to dispose of it. aad will not lie down humUj 
under it, llmt it may dispone of you ? For are you worthy of it ? 
haili lh« iiord any need of you ? have you not provoked him 
cxeceitingly 1' was there ever any that deaJl worse with bira than 
you 1' U beloved, lie low here, and learn of the church, (Ujcah 
vii. 'J,) " I will bear ihe indignation of lite Lord, bec-ause 1 have 
BJnni^d against tiim." It was u most blessed frame of spirit in 
Aurou, when he Jiaw Qod's luuid against bim in cutting ulf his 
diildron i " and Aaron held bis peace ; " so, if the Lord should 
east tltec off, cui time off, never take pleasure in such a polluted, 
hrukea vessel, untit for uoy use tor bim, hold thou thy jieace ; 
quarml not, be silent before him, and say ns they did, (2 C'liroa. 
>ii. 5,) ■* Tbu Lord is righteous, but 1 am vile ; let bim do with .. 
me what secnwib good in his own eyes; " and thus the Lord 
Jc«ui!, by Ihe law, dolb dead the muI to the law, until it be made 
to Biibmii like wax, or like clay to tlic hand of the putter, to 
frame Ifii vi':>iiel to what use be pleasetb ; and ae the ajKietle 
niunt escellenlly (R»iil. vii.) [livoieetli it from its tirst husband, 
(i.«., Bill mid Ihe ln«) ihut it may he married unto Jesus Oirist. 
in a word, wheimie Lord Christ hath made the soul feel not 
only il» inability to help itself, — and su saitb Paul, (tiaL ii. iO,) 
"it ill not 1," — but also its own uoworiliiuess, that the Lord 
almuld help it, and so cries out with Job, " Behold I am vile : " 
now, at lliia iuslaut, it is vat capax — a vessel capable (though 
unwurlhy) of any grace. (Lam. iv. 6.) 

The la»[ question remains, What measure of humtlialiou is 
here necewary ? 

Look, m so mui'b conviction is ng otaaafy which hegela com- 


puDcUon, nod m much CDmpunclion as breeds huniiliation, . 
— ._^^|ll<'^■ liiimiUn^ pn U . jiei:cstiary as introdu ceth faith, or . 

dnyes ihn imil mil iff iliirlf iinfn riir'"' ; for, as Ihe nexf'enil ol 
conviction is conipunciion, and ihal of compunction it humili^ 
tion, eo thejiext end of hu roiliaiion is faitb, or coming to Chrii^ 
■which we shall nexl"speali unto. 

And hence it is tliat the Ijord calls upto the wearj > 
heavy laden to come unto him. (Matt. ii. 37.) So much 
makes you come for rest in CiirisI, »o much is nccesBary. and 
more. If any can come without being thus laden and weary, 
some measure, let them come nnd drink of the water of life freor 
ly ; but a proud heart that will make itself its own Saviour will' 
not come lo the Lord Jesus to be his Sariour ; he that will b« 
his own physician so long can not send out for auolher. Nay, let 
fall one degree lower : if the soul con not come to Christ, (as v 
feel not themselves unable when the Lord comes to draw?), 
and find not the Lord Jesus coming unto them, to draw tbtn^ 
and compel them in, yet if the soul be so far humbled aa not 
resist thb Lord, by quarrelling with him, and at him, as unwo^i 
thy of the least smile, as worthy of all frowns, verily, tlie Lordj 
will come to it, and no more is retjuisitc than this ; and thus muoh 
certainly is, for thus the whole Scripture runs : " He gives gracft 
lo the humble." (James iv. G.) " I dwell with the contrite ami 
humble." (Is. Ivii. 16.) "The poor atHicted shall not always} 
be forgotten." (Ps. ix. 12, 18.) " When their uncircumciseA 
hearts arc humbled, so as to accept of the punishment of their in- 
iquity, the Lord then remembers his covenant," (Lev.) xxvi. 
41, 42.) Conceive it thus: there cnn be no union to Christ 
while there is a power of resistance and oppositiou against Christ. 
The Lord Christ must, therefore, in^rder^gLJialure. (for I now 
speak not of ocd.or ot^_time,) first removen prohibcnt, remove this 
resistance before he can, and that he may, unite. I do not mean 
resistance of the frame of grace, but, as was said, of the Lonk 
of grace, whereby he comes to work it. 

Now, there is a ilmihlp retiitttji ppp, or two parts of lhi§ 
ance, like a knife without edges. 

1. A rcsistJince of the Lord by a secret unw illingn ess th^ 
Lord should work Krai's. Now, this {bo Lord TemdTCd bi i 
pBncft6fi7 and" no" more brokenaess for sin or from sin ia ni 
sary Uiere than that 2. A resistance of the Lord by aiol 
diBcou ragemen ta, and a secret quarrelling with him, in case 
soul Tmaglnes lie will not come to wollE" grace or manifest 
grace. Now, this the Lord takes away in humiliation ; and no 
more U neoeseary hcr<! than tlie removal of the power of this, 


wliich makes the soul, in the sense of its a\rn infinite vilenesi 
and unworihiaesB, noi to qua rrel u i the Lof J. and. deril-like, grow 
.fierce an^jiajuitjinl;, before aDtl against the Lord, in ea»« he 
shouITnevc • ' ■ ..«.., 


will not forsake forever, if the soul thus lies down and puis its 
moiiih in the dust." (Lam. HI 30, 31.) 

Which coDsideration is of unspeakable use and consolation to 
every poor empty noUiiag that feels iUelf unable to helieve, and 
the Lord forsaking il from helping it to believe. And I have 
seen it constantly that many a chosen vessel never hath beeh 
comforted till now, and ever conifort^.'d when now ; they never 
knew what hurt them till ibej raw this, and they have immedi- 
ately felt their hurt healed when thia hath been removed... In 
conuorting Christians under deep distress, tell them of God's 
grace and mercy, and the riclies of both, you do but torment 
them the more, that there should be so much, and they have no 
part nor share in it, and think they never shall, because (hia is 
not the immediate way of cure. Tell them, rather, when they 
are full of these comphiints, that they are as they ^peak, vil« 
and sinful, and therefore worthy never to be accepted of God, and 
that they have no cause to wonder that they have their lives, and 
are on this side beU, and so turn all that they saj to humiliation 
and self-loathing ^verily, you shall then see, if the Lord intends 
good, he will by this do them good, and the weakest Christian 
that cannot come to Christ, you shall see, first or last, shall see 
cause to lie down and be silent, and ngLflu^'^li though the Lonr^ 
should never come to him. And that this ia necuasary may 
appear thus: otherwise, — 

1. The Lord should not advance tlie riches of his grace. 
The advancement of grace cannot possibly be without the hu- 
miliation and abasement of the creature ; the I.<ord not only 
saves, but calls, things that are not, that " no ticsh might glory." 
(1 Cor. i. 2)*, 29.) 

i. Otherwise the Lord should not be Lord and Disposer of his 
own grace, but a sinful creature who quarrels against God, if it 
be not disposed of, not ad the Lord will, but as the creature will. 
If a stranger comes to our house, and will have what be wants, 
and if he bath not, be quarrels and contends with the master of 
the house, what would he suy ? " Away, proud beggar I dost think 
lo be lord of what I have ? dost draw thy knife lo stah me if I 
do not please thee and give Iheu thy asking? No, thou shalt 
know that I will do witli my own as 1 see good ; thou shalt lie 
down on the dust of my tliresbhold before I give thee any thing." 
So it is with the Lord. " Il is not in him that willeib, nor in him 
that runneth, but in God that ^boweth mercy." It is bis priooi- 




pill miine, " I will he mcrcirul to whom I will be mercifal ; " 
therefore if you will not believe me, yel believe ibe Lord** 
(Mth. (I*, xir. 23,) "Unto me sliull er cry knee bow;" anddo 
yoD come to lord it over him. and quarrel and fret, and ^ink 
grow BuUen, and vex, if the Lord sloop not unto your desires? 
No, no ; ydu must and shnll lie upon his threshhtrid ; 
make thee lay Ifay neck upon the block, as worthy of nothing bat 
catting off, and then, when this "valley is filled, all flMh shafl 
■aee the glory of [he Lord." (Is. xl. 5.) Tlius humiliation it 
Njnecessary in this measure mentiooed. Not thai I deny any gnl^' 
se(]uent humiliation, after a Christian is in Christ, arising frtnA; 
the Benae of God's favor in Christ, than whieh nothing mnkeB •, 
Chrialian of an evangelical spirit more ashamed of himself; yel' 
I dare not exclude this, which is aDtec«denI, arising fttXD ibt' 
spirit of power immediately subduing the soul to Christ that ik 
may be exalted hv Christ. (1 Pet. v. 6.) It is true, all thing! 
that pertain to life and godliness are received by faith ; (i Fot^ 
i. 3 ;) yet' faith is less a saving work , which ia not received by any 
precedent faiih. Faith, Therefore, is lo be excepted, not only 
begotten in us, but as it is in the begetting of it in the convicti 
and humiliation of every sinner. 

Hence, see what is the great liinderance between the mercy of 

God and the soul of many a man ; it' it be not some .sin nnj 

^ hardties s of he art undi^r it, wbereby he carca not for Christ 14 

Miver him, then it is some, pride of spirit ar ising from sora4 

good he hath, whereby he feels no need of ChrisI, hoping hi* 

n duties shall save liiui ; or <-l-=.- \-\ nl""" f,'f"'' gl. and not u uder 


' LotA 

makes tliH llm liiftTTffWy -'g'iflgTOT. (I^v. sxvi. 40,) if first ihey 

iihiill uiiiniuM cliniii iiinii iiiMiiillji h amble them selves, (both 
which Tknow the Lord must work,} then "I ' 

covenant. Look as it i 
it must first pass tbro 

eecondl ^____ 

with a vessel bc'furc it cud be tit for use : 
iroi jjuas tuiiiugh fire, a nd the earth and dross severed i 
/■from it; then it must be made holy; and emotv . whioli makes it.^ 
vai r.apax, a vessel capable of receiving that which shall b*« 
poured into it. If (O brethren) the Lord hath some vessels oT^ 
glory, which he prepares iicforehand, and makes capi^le cf 
glory, (Uum. ix. 21, 22;) if tli-c Lord doth not sevur you from 
sin in eompunclion, and empty you of yourselves in humiliation, 
you can not receive Christ, nor mercy — you cannot hold them; 
ftnd if ever you miss of Christ by failli, your wound lies her«. 
How many be there at this day, that were once profane and 
wicked, hut now by some terrors and outward reslrtunts upoa 
them they leave their sins, and say they loathe them, and pur- 
pose never to run riot fsa they have done ; and hence, bocauaa'J 


they think Ihp.nisclv&j very pood, or to have some good, they fall 
short of Christ, and are sfili in the gall of biiteTnesa, in the 
mid«t of all evil. It were the happiness of some men, if they 
did not think themselves to have some good because this is their 
ChrisL O you that live under precious means, and have many 
fvars 70U may (icriiih and be deceived at the last ! But wiiy do you 
fear ? 1 know you will answer, " O, some secret and unknown 
iin may be my ruin." It is true, and you do well to have a 
godly jealousy thereof. But remember this also, not only some 
sin, but some good thou Ihiukest tliou hast, and restest in without 
Christ, and lifting thee up above Christ, may as easily prove thy 
ruin ; because a man's own righteousness rested in doth not only 
bide men's sins, but strengthens Lhem in some sin by which men . 
perish. Trusting to one's own righteousness, and committing 
iniquity, are couples. (Esck. xxxjii. 13.) Nor do I hereby ma 
into the trenches of that wicked generation of the Familists, d^V 

' nying aU inherent graces ; evidence of favor from any Christian 
obedience, or sanctification in holy duties; or that a Christian 
ahould profanely cast oil' all dulJes because they cannot save 
themselves by them. No, no ; the Lord will search with candles 
one day for such sons of darkness, and exclude such foolish ^ 
virgins, that they have neither oil in their vessels nor light i 
their lamps. I only speak of that good, that righteousness which 

, is rested in without Christ, and lifis up men above Christ, which 
in deed and in truth is n ot -t n\^ r i|];ht eou8nes8, but only a true 
shadow of it. And, therefore, as beaia well observes from Bom. 
ix. Si, " Why did not Israel, that followed after righteousness, 
attain it? Because tliey sought it not by faith, hut as it were 
by lire works of the law ; " they were not fruits of sincere 
obedient to ilie 1air7~~6ut as it were the works of the law; 
now this, sailh the npoatle. (ver. 83.) is the stumbling stone in 
Zion. Christ wilt have all flesh veil, and be stripped naked, and 
made nothing before him, before they shall ever be built upon 
him. Now, this men stumhie at; they must bring something to 
liim; they will not be vile, emptiness, and nothingness, that he 
may be all to them. Verily, observe yourselves, and you shall 
find, if ther« be little humiliation, there b little of Christ ; if 
much humiliation, much of Christ ; if unconetant humitiaiion, 
uncertain fruition of Christ ; if real humiliation, real possession of 
Christ; if false humiliation, imaginary fruition of Christ. Know 
i(, you can not perish if you fall not short here — you must perish 
'" u do. 

■ exhorted, Ihcrefore, to lie dov 
Lord, and under the Lord ; nay, entn 


put thee upon his wheel, and raoW thy lieart to his will ; wl^ 
will you rest in any good you hnve '! O, remember thy fathtf 
waa a Syrian, reudy lo perish, and thysulf polluted, &a infinite^ 
endless evil. Whiktever good ihou dost, is it iiot a polluted 
atreaiD of a more polluted spring ? Nay, suppose the Spim 
works any good in tliec, yet is it not polluted by thy 
heart ? Nny, suppose any actions should be perfect, yet 
ber that the Lord spared not the angels that sinned ; perfection 
present enn not satisfy justice for pollution pnat. Cry out, tlieMa 
fore, and say, O Lord, now I SiSe not only that my sin is vile, bot 
^stbat rayseir and nJI my r'fi'''°niif]ff^« jp yil^ ftlff ; and noWii 
though the Lord stands al a dislance, speaks no peace, hears 
prayers, yet because thou art very vile, lie down under him, tl 
if he will he may tread upon thee, and thereby exutt himself, ajk' 
well as lift thee up and exnil thee. lie not cureless whether 
the Lord help or no, but be humbled, not to quarrel in case bfti 
should not. For, — 

1. Suppose thou art not only miserable, but sinful, and tlw 
Lord (thou sayest) lakes it not away; yet remember, that Wt 
quarrel with God for withdrawing his hand is a sin also, (Li " 
iii. 39 ;) and wilt thou add sin to sin ? 

2. Why art thou quiet and ntill when the Lord denies thee any 
common mercy? Is it not because the Lord will have it so? 
Now, louic as we say of him that hales sin as sin, thai he 
hates all sin ; so he that is mecbened with God's good plcasurs 
in any one thing because of his. good pleasure in it, upon At. 
same ground will at least desire to stoop in every thing, 
pose, therefore, it be the I>ird's good pleasure to deny 

y mercy ; I grunt you must pruy for it, yet with submission lo 
good will of the Lord, saying, The Lortl's will is good, but mu 
is evil; otherwise thou bust no meekness in ony thing ' 

' art not meekly subject to bis will in every tliiug. 

8. The greatest pride that is in man appenrs here i for sup- 
pose the Lord should deny tliee bread, or WHlcr. or clothes, was 
it your duty to murmur now? nay, was it not pride, If the heart 
would nut lie down, and Guy, Lord I nm worthy to have my 
bread pluc^od from my mouth, and my clothes from my badc.^ 
Mow. if it be pride to murmur in ease the Lord denies you imfl" 
matters, the nSixh of this life, dost not tliou >>ce that it is 
greater pride for tlice to sink and quarrel vith him if be dei. 
tbco greater, and the things of another life? Is he bound, 
rive thee grcutcr, that dolb not owe tlice the least? Suppose 

I beggar mui-mur at iliy door if tliuu dost deny him bre«d, ao^, 
eup of drink, wilt ibou not aci-ount him ii proud. Rtout be|rjml 
But if thou givest him that, uud then he <|uarrcl and 


thoe because thou dot'l not give him a thousand pounds, or thy 
whole estate when he asks it, will jou not suy, I never met with i 
the like insolency? The Lord f^va you your live^, I'leaaed be H 

id all tlini he IB worth, and thi 
Iiord seems to depy you, and now you sink utid grow sullen, and 
discontent, and quurrel) and murmur at God, not directly, but 
secretly and slyly i may not the Lord now say, Was (here ever 
guch pride nod insolency? And therefore, as Christ spoke of 
him-self, (John xii. 24, 3S,) "A corn of wheat can not live unless it 
die first," an know il, you shall never live with Christ ; unlesa you 
die and perish in yourselves, unless you be sown and lie under 
the clods of your own wretchedness, faith will never spring up 
in furh a soul. As it is in burning, the lire must be first taken 
out, before there can be any healing, so this impatient spirit, 
which lormcnta the soul, must th-st be removed, before the Lord 
will heal thee. 

4. Consider the approaching limeii ; I do believe the Lord at 
thia day is coming out to shake nil nations, all hearts, all con- 
sciences, all conditions, and Id tear and rend from you your 
choicest blessings, peace and plenty. iMtth external and internal 
aL*o : for tliere is need of ii; our age grows full, and proud, and 
wanton ; a man's pric« is fallen in die market, unless hii> locks and 
new fashions commend him lo ibc world. O, consider when GimI 
come* lo rend all from you, then you may find a need of~ihe 
exercise of this duty ; it may be the time is coming wherein you 
■hull have nothing lo support your hearts, you ohall find rest in 
ni> way but this ; I know assurance of God's luve may quiet you ; 
but what if the Lord shake all your foundations, and deprive 
you of that? What will you do then? And therefore, as Zcphn- 
niali, (it. 3.) having foretold of the evil day, cries unto his liearers, 
"St-ek meekness. ye meek of the earth ;" seek meekness; so 
say I to you ; for yoa will find all little enough. Come down 
from thy thntne, and be ihe footstool and threshhold of Christ 
Jof'Ue, before the days of darkne^ come upon you ; be content 
to be a cipher, n stepping alone, the very offal of ihe worU- 

i But you will «ay, Wherein should I e iLurew thi s humiliation 

ft Knit subject] 

I '' 



highly than kful for any lilllp rhc l^rd yives. (Lam. iii. 22, . 
»5 Iimn1» ' , 'lintt JU Bg r n n 'j CT rff^y of 'wlhinff when l\us - 

r^hiU l!n(l iiie LuM'JeAU 

Ijoni u«nirs ; ana 
, sinnking (ifftce auto you, and ^jHving Iheo rest i 
[ miw art ({uitHly cutiiented lo Vw slill at hix tceU 
k'or toiae tid[>s Uktcuiiiu, — 

s iKinum, ih^ 


1. Uemembor whoge Ihou ni l ; viz., the Loi-d's clay, and I 
,thy poller, and iliL're'ore mii^do with thee wliat he will. (Boot ■ 

U. 20.) 

2. Remember tyhnt th gn nr i ; v'ix„ a polluted vessel, a kind of 
inSoite^QluUeBS evil, fi I have oft saidT ^Serfte~pic[iire of thj 
own vileness in ihe damned in hell, wlio are full, and shall throagh 
all etemiiy pour out all manner of evil. (Job si. 3, 4.) 

3. Remember ivliat ibou hast been, and how long thou hast 
made war agiilnst Chriut with all lliy might, and heart, and 
Btivnglh ; why should Ihe Lord therefore t-hoose thee befow 1 
others, (Jer. iii, 5,) when as, (ask thy conscience,) wag the 
ever snch a wretch since Ihe world began as thou bast been? 

4. Kemember what ihou will be : fit for no use to Jesus Chri 
good for nothing but to pollute his holy name when thou i 
diest with it ; and why should Ihe I>ord take up such a dry lei 
(1b. Isiv, 6,) and breathe upon such a dry bone? 

5. Remember h ow Koml ihe Lord's will is, even when it\ 
ci-osseth thine ; he 'shall have infinite glory by all his denials to 
thee of what thou wouldest) he shall gun that, though tliou Insert 
thy peace and quietness, that good which thy foolish, sinful will 
desires at his hand, (John xti. 27, 28 ;) and if so, bleesed be htt . 
name ; let God lire, but let man die and perish, that he may biu 
exalted of vile man. jH 

6. Remember the sweet rest thou ehalt have by this subjejfl 
Vlion to the Lord ; notlii ngTs t n ans cross but man' s wiljj a stub- 
"iwni will, like a sluWiorn heifer th'tIie"yo!(i^"gans aniTfrols the 

Boul. Learn meekness, s ail b our Saviour, of me, in taking my 
yoke on you, an<l tlien you shall Bnd rest. Halj_KouUjiaLJl& 
hell to a heart truly hiiinbliid. Sometimes you find enlargementt^) 
then you are glad; sometimes none, then you sink ; sometii"" 
you have hope of mercy, then you are ailm ; somelimes you " 
your hopes, then the sea works. When the Lord plcaeelh _ 
then you are weir ; but if a little cross befall yoti, then your spring 
is muddy, and a little thing troubles. 0, be humble and vile in 
thine own eyes, and verily such uncertain fits of peace and trouble 
are done, and the days of all your mourning are now ended. 

Of thaukfulness, lo all those whom the Lord hath truly hum- 
bled. Time was, when the JLord first convinced you, that so 
lung as you could make any shift, find rest in any duties, you 
would never lie down at Christ's feel ; now ihu Lord might have 
left you to have stumbled at that stumbling stone, and to have 
stuck in thoAR bushesi but you may see that the Lord will save you 
even then when you would not be saved by him; and especially 
take notice of two passages of God's dealings with you, wherein 



usiinlly you finil mailer of JUcoiirHgement, rather than of ofknoirl' 
edginent of God's gocliiess to you tliiTein. 1. That Ihe Lord 
hutb wiiliilrawD all fiwling of an g_goQd which it may be once you 
felt, and that the Lord hath let out more of the evil of your hearts 
than ever you imagiDed was in them ; nay, so much evil that you 
think there is none like unto you, who basl now no heart nor 
power to stir, think, desire, will, or do any thing that is good. 
0, bless the Lord for this, for this is God's way to huipble. and 
empty, and make thee poor ; the Lord saw, though it may he you 
did not, that you rested in that good you fell, and was or would 
bti lifted up by these ; and therefore the Lord halh broken 
tho»e craay crutch t^a. famished now, brought you down lo nothing, 
made you like dry deserts ; all Ihe hurt the Loni aimcth at in this 
being only to humble you, and though these desertions be bitter 
for the present, yet that by these he might do you good in yonr 
latter end. O brethren, tlie apostle stands at a slay, and desires 
the Corinthians to consider. " You see your calling," sottb he. 
(1 Cor. i.) " Not many mighty, not many wise, but things that 
are not doth he call, that no flesh might glory." "The Lord," 
saJth Moses, (Deut viii. 2, 3,) "suffered thee to waiit," (that was 
the lirst.) and then " fed thee, that he might prove thee and 
bumble thee ; remember this," eaith he. So say I to you, 
remember this mercy, that when the Lord makes you worst of ^ 
all, not real, but in your own eyea, that then the Lord is aliout' 
this glorious work. 

2. ThiU the Lord hath kept you (it may be a long time, loo) 
fruiu aipht and ser^ ^ iij' jiii* ()"t;Mll'"' i"'^" : one would wonder why 
the LunLAlwulil hide JuaJiiY6.fS.^4^i^ long, from those to 
whom lie doth inlend it ; the great rtrasou Ts, because there is in 
many a one a heart desirous of his love ; and Ibis would nuiot • 
them, if tbey were sure of i[ : but Ibey never came to ba quieted 
with God's WilJ, in cose they think tbey shall never partake of his 
lovo i but are above that, oppose, and resist, and quarre-l with 
that, uiihumbled under ihati the Lord therefore intending to be- 
stow his favor only upon a bumbled sinner, he will therefore hide 
his face until tiiey lie low, and ackaowledge themselve s worthy of 
nothing but extremity of misery, unworthy of the least mercy. 
*'Tbe |>coplc of God (Lam. i. IG) cry out that "tho comforter 
which should refresh their soul was far from them." What was 
God's end in this? you shall see Che end of it; (ver. 18,) ■'The 
Iiurd is righteous," (here the church is humbled,) "for I have 
nbelled ; " or, (as Zanchius reads it,) " 1 have made his mouth 
bitlur," that the Lord speaks no jwoi^e to me. but bitter tbingH. 
The cause is in my own self, and Uierefore if he never c«mlort 


me, nor speak good worj unto me, yel he is rigliteous, but I «_ 
vil« ; and you will lin J this certain, that as llic Lord iherefiM 
huDibles ihul he mny exalt, so ihe Lord never refuseth t 
(in hiding hh Thcc) but it is to humble. And is this the n 
the Lord aims at, and will you not be thankful ? "Why a 
then, discouraged when you find it thus with you ? Do not N 
the Lord never dealt tbua with any as with nie; suppose tht 
the reason then is, because the Lord sees, never had any s 
high heart as thou hast ; but O, be thankful that, notwithi 
ing this, he will Cake the pains to take it down. 

Thus much for humiliaiiun, 1 come now lo the fourth t 
last, whieh is faith, ^ 

Section V. 

Thefoarth and hut Act of C/irisCs Power it l/ie Work of Fait 

The Lord having wounded and humbled hia elect, and laH 
them down dead at his feet, tbcy ore now as unable to believe as 
they were to humble their own souls ; and therefore now the 
Lord takes them up into his own arms, that ihgyJean^juLrest 
on the bosom of iheir^bebved by faith. , After Joseph had spoken 
roughly toTiia brethren, and thereby brought the blood of their 
brother to remembrance, and so bad humbled them ; and then 
he can contain no longer, hut di!kK>^'e^s himself to them, and tells 
them, " 1 am Joseph, whom you wickedly sold, yet fear not ; " so 
dotb our Saviour carry it toward bis eleet, when he I^d them low : 
sow is the very season for bim to advance the glory of bis grace ; 
he can not now contain himself any longer ; but having torn and 
token away lliat vail of sin and of the law from off their heart*, 
now they see the Lord with open face, even the end of that 
which was to be abolished. (2 Cor. iii.) The explication of this 
great work is of exceeding great difficulty ; nothing more stirring 
than fiiilb in a true Chrisiinn, beeause be lives by it, yet it is 
*ery little known ; as children in the womb, that know not that 
naveletring by which ihey principally live : I shall therefore lie 
wary, and leaving larger erplicationa, acquaint you with the 
nature of faith, in this brief description of iL 

Faith is that gracious work of the Spirit, whereby a humbled 

sinner re<^iveth Christ ; or whether the whole soul comelb out 

of itself ti Christ, for Christ and all his benelils, upon tlie call O 

^ Christ in his word. ^— =^ 

Before I ojien this particularly, give me leave to premise & 
I com iderations, iFaiih is the complement of g~ 


sliich begins in God's tall, and ends in this nnswer to 

that call ! the Lord prevents a poor humbled soul with his call, 
either not knowing how, or not able, or not daring lo come ; and 
then the soul comes, and hencd men called and beliering are all 
one. (Rom, ii. 24, with 33.) Manj a wounded sinner will be 
acrambling after Christ from some general reports or him, before 
the day and hour of God's glorious and gracious calL Now, for 
any to receive Christ, or come to Christ before he is called, is 
preaumplion; to refuse Christ when called is rebellion i to come 
unil ree!iiiL£,w^en_ray^jsprqpfijcl;LW»dJoim[d^^ and that 
whicT^eScripture styleruie " obedienceoT fait h." (Rom. i. 5.) 
And now Christ at Ibis instant is fully and freely given on God's 
part, when really and freely come unto and taken on our part. 

Thij receiving of Christ, or coming to Christ, is for substance V 
tHe sume, tliough the words be divi^tve ; Iho Holy Ghost u.^eth to 
Express one and the same thing in variety of words, that our fee- 
bleness might the better understand what he meanech. And 
hence in Scripture, believing, coming, reeeivinif Chriti, rolling, 
trittting, cleaving to tie L^d, etc., set out one and the same 
thing: and therefore it is no wonder if our divines have differ- 
erit descriptions of faith in variety of words i which, if well con- 
sidered, do but set out one and the same tiling : and I do conceive 
they do all agree in this description 1 have now mentioned ; I 
knuw there are some who tread awry here, whom I shall briefly 
note out, and so pass on to what we intend. 

I. The Papists, with some others of corrupt judgments, at 
least of weak apprehensioiis among ourselves, describe latth to bu 
nothing else but a supernatural assent lo a divine (ruth, because of 
a divine testimony/ ex. gr., to assent to this truth, that Christ is 
come, that he is the tSon of God, that he was deiid and is risen 
again, that he is the Saviour of tlie world, etc. ; and to confirm this 
Ihi-y pro,luce Matt. xvi. 16 ; 1 John iv. 3. 

It is granted that this assent is in faith, for faith always hath 
respect to some liislituony ; for nmn by tua — tall-halhJost all 
knowledge of divine and supernatural trutbsj hence God r^u^^s 
auya in lijs word ; hence ftiTnr~s5e9 'IhcWi 'iSd assents lo them, 
because God hath spoken them : to see and know things by 
virion is to secll unia in themselves intuitively and immediately i 
|k"^l to see thijngs by faith i s ^^^ th em by and in a testimoi^y * 
I gi^^c n of them" (John Ji. 2(),) "Blessed is he that hatU not 
wen, ' (I. e,^ Ijhrisl immediately,) "but believed," i. e., his testi- 
mony, and on liim in it ; this assent, therefore, is in faith, for 
we most believe Christ before we can believe in him ; but this 
Vomprehondii not the whole nature of fiulh ; I mean uf that fkilh 





we are now speaking of, viz., as it unitca us to Cliri 
BCAMth us with ChrisU For, — 

1. This description plareth faith only in the uni 
whereas it is also in tlie will, as the words tntgtiHg, rolling, eU^ 

2. This assent is mertily general, without particular apph- 
. calion, whieh is ever iu true faith. (Gal. ii. 20.) 

S. This is such a faith as iIms <]eviU may have, (James ii. 19.) 
and reprobate men may have. (2 Pet ii. 20, 21. Heb. xx. 26.) 
There is a wilful refusing of the known trutli. 

4. It is the Papist's aim lo vilify faith hereby, by describing 
it by that which is one ingredient in it, but excludiog that whirli 
I is p rineipal; those phrases, therefore, of "believing Christ is 
come in the flesh," (1 John iv. S,) and that "he is ibe Son of 
God." (Mall. svi. 16.) as if this were the only object to faiih, 
jure not to l»e understood exclusively, excluding other acts of faith, 
[which the Scripture in other places sets down clearly ; but in- 
dusively. as supposing them to be contained herein ; for as we 
/ in our timcB. de8Cribin (j j failb by relyin^ upon Clirist for salva- 
tion, d o not exclude her<;liy our be lie Ting Inat ne is the MessiaL 
biit we include ii, or eupposc it, because that ia not now ques- 
tioned, the trutb of the gospe l being so abundantly cleared, m 
in those times, th cY descrioen tail h I'y fli"* [■"""' |if|| ac t, to beru've 
that he was the Son o f Go<i. and c ome into llie flesh. t>eca 

(■ — -^ " mm i;miic tuto m _ 
, _ HiTng m queslion thenTaJid il' t... 

"tonrESTnot se'toflKIMthTty olbW ms In ScTipiUFe, we should 
lint vary from our compass in such espreseione in the word in 
tliese days ; for their faith then is exemplary to us now ; becnuec 
tlio word (loth more fully set it out in more special acta , henue 
we set it out also by them ; for it is eTTUmi, US fli'e JAWS did be- 
lieve in a Messiah to come, so they did also believe, and look for 
nil good from him, (John iv. 25,) " He will teach us all thinps 
when he comes : " and therefore tlieir faith did not confine itself 
, to th at bistorici^ mit th at n Mpnaifth ghould co me, or that this was 
%Jthe >trasiah, it.ut they did expect and lyA for all good from him : 
and hence the apostle expoun3Tn^liir^^ing7vi)!., believing tJinl 
Christ is dead and risen again, we shall hereby be saved: "If 
thou believest" (saith he) '• with thine hear! " this tr uth, ■■thou 
ahalt be saved." Now, to tx^lieve with the heart, as it doth not 

J exclude assent, so it necessarily includes the acis of the will and 
affections in relyingupoii him, an d coming to"Sim^ AihT lieni't', 

tells him, " Thou arl Peter ; " i. e., a slone resling upon ilie rock, 
good inicrprcicra expound it ;) and therefore Beloi 

th^ bouhd believke. 

fuilh did not exclude these principnl acts of resting on Cliri^l, 
cleitring to Christ, but did include and suppwe them. 

u mmh i ii B Ai i iiN i t, a ii d innke t'aitli nothing 

ahe but a pei 

Ihink. ■ 

tbe J 

L Chriat died fur me 
Thiit which moves some thus to 
ersa l redem ption by the dea th of Christ ; ikcy * < 
— '■" — — ■r.-.]t*i;„.',or _.!:T5. "■ ^*-~ 


> pxiunil or bottom fo r faith but tbia . . 

Tli.-ii Wip tiiMn-nwijjjpiifp ffinkra redem ptwa univewai : and lience ^ 
the Arminiana bonatt so rouct ol IMlf JBW ■BWjWHow Icnelur^ 
mdfre, etc. IJul, 1. This Is a false bottom, for Christ hnth not . 
died for all, bee^use he hath not pr.iyed for all. (John xvii. !i.) 
3. Thia ia a snndj bdHOnr^'afid' foundation, which wheyn 
Christian rests upon, it shakes under him, when the soul shiUl 
think. Though Christ halb died fur roe, yet no more for me ilii^ik, 
for Judas, or thousands of reprobates now in hell. Indeed, after 
faith, a Christian is bound to believe it, as Paul did. (Gal. ii. 
20. ] Cor. XV. 1. 2.) 

I conceive, therefore, those holy men of ours who liave .. 
deseribed faith by a.<a u ranee, have not so much aimed at a de- 
•criptian orwIIinlWth is "in i toe! f, ns it po ases^tli us with Chr iatj ' 
but of what de-gre " f^f\\} f''|inl jl Timr*"^ ""'' "''""^d \^^ i« na ; ^< 

naau ranee : and therefore consult with the authors of thia descrip- 
tjon, ami mquire of them, is there no doubt iny mixed with faith ? 
Ye?, (say ihev.) man's doubtings aometimesnre even unto a kind 
of de<i[iuir, but ilieii (say they) it should not be ihrnt. The Papists 
commend doublings, and deny assurance, place fiiith in a general 
KsMinti our champions, that were lo wrestle with them, main- 
tained it to be a particular applinttion, (and not only n general 
Msenl,) und that with n full a.t8urancc of persuasion, which, being 
the most eminent act of faitli, excludes not otlier inferior acts of 
it. which as (hey are before it. ao may possess the soul with 
Christ without it. Although with all, it i» certain, that there u 
no true faith but It luUh some aasuranre, of wliieh afterword. 

Let me now eume to the explication of the description given, 
where note ihew live things: — 

1. The eflleient cauae of faith ; it is a work of the Spirit. 

2. The subject, or matter In which it is seated, viz., the soul 
of a humble sinner. 

3. The form of It, vix., the coming of llic whole soul lo ChriK. 

4. The end of it. vit.. for Ctirist luid all Ida benefits. 

fi. The special ground und means uf it, viz.. the call of Christ 
bi hii word. 

1. Thncfficioni csiuse of faith. 

VOL. I. 


' Faith is a gracious work of the Spirit of Chrbl ; the Spirit 
y^ereforc, is the effident cause orprlD cip»l workman of faith; the 
^ Spirit dolli not b eEeverEut'iJ^Be ih Us to believe ; Jt is not prio- 
cipium qtiod, the prlDCiple which doUi believe, but prineipium 
quo, the principle by which we do: the eouU of oil the elect 
(especially when humbled) are, of ftU olher things, most unable lo 
betiRve : nay, look, as, before compunction and humiliation, Salan 
held the soul captive chiefly by ile lusts and sins, so now, when the 
Lord bath burnt those cords, and broken those chainsi, all the 
powers of darkness slrengihen theniselvcs, and keep the soul 
under mightily, by unbelief. What do you tell me of mercy F 
(saitk the soul:} it is mercy which I have continually resisted, 
doepetalely despised: why do you persuade me to believe? 
Alas ! I can not; it is true, all that which you say is true, if I 
could believe, but I can not see Christ, 1 can not come at Christ ; 
1 seek him in (he means, but he forsakes me there, and I am left 
of God desolate ; and here, beloved, the soul had not formerly so 
many excuses for ils sin, as now it hath clouds of objections 
against believing ; (be Spirit therefore lakes fast hold of the souls 
of all the elect, draws them unto Ctirist ; aod therefore it is called 
"the spirit of faith," (2 Cor. iv. 13;) and that by an omnipotcut 
and irresistible jjower, (Is. liii. I,) "Who halh believed? 
and to whom is ihe arm of the Lord revealed ? " that the soul 
must and shall believe now. " Compel them lo come in," saith 

J the lord of the supper. (Luke xiv. 23.) This ihe_Anniniana^ 
will not believe, for (say they) the (luestiou is not, « 
are enabled to believe by grace ; but, whether it be a(\er t 
manner, and by this means, vii., taodo irrmttibili. Considc 
tlierefore, these reasons to clear tliis point : — 

1. Whence doth our call and coming lo Christ arise, but froi, 
■ Rq ^'^' i qimBXttblc and uiichangca b je purpose ? T tie Lord the refo^ 

must either altPrtfisTini^se, or pre Villi ffllD the soul lo believt 
and overpower the heart thereunto. 

2. Is not Christ Jesus homi^bv ofRce and promise to the 
Father to bring in all his lost, scattered sheep, that so the Father 
and he may be glorified in them? (John zx. 16,) " Other sheep 
I have; those I must bring home, and they shall hear my voice." 
You that complain you can not believe, nay, that you have M^h 
heart to believe, the I^rd must fetch you in ; and you shall heat^f 
the bridegroom's voice wilh joy. -^* 

8. Is not the act of believing wrought by a creatin g power? 
■^ (Eph. i. 9; ii. 10. Is. Ivii. 18, 10.) "I create'TETTniinrnie 
' lips peace, peace to him that is near and afar off." And is not 
,- a creating voice irresistible, though there be nothing for it to 


work upon ? So, though yoa havo no abililj, heart, head, or 
strength to believe, yet the Lord will create the fruit of the lips 
of God's meaaenger,^ peace, peace. 

4. Doth not ihe Lord let in that inHnite nnd surpassing ewect- 
nc3S of grace, when he works the soul lo believe, standing Id ex- 
treme need orihal grace, thai it c^n not but come and cleave to it? 
(Pa. Uiii. 2, 3,) " I long to see thee," with David, " for thy loving 
kindness is belter than life." Ilis impossibluforamau to cleavcio . 
hiij life ; much more to that whieli is better than life. The light 
is so clear, it can not hut see and wonder at grace ; the good is to 
sweet, it can not but taste and accept what God so freely offers ; 
and therefore the poor Cunaanitish woman (Matt, xv.) could not 
be driven away, though Christ bid her in a manner begone; but 
■he made all the objections against her arguments for her, (as ' 
usually faith doth, when under this stroke of the Spirit :) " The 
Tiolunt take the kingdom of heaven by force ; " the Spirit puts a v 
necessity upon them, and irresistibly overpowers them, and this 
is the cause of iL 

Ajid is not t his matter of great consolatio a. lo all those whJV^ 
fee l thy maalYf* litF crlv unable to be.liavB!' You think the I^rd 
woulH give peace and pardon, life and mercy, if I cotdd believe. 
0, consider the Lord hath overtaken in jhe coveno nt of grace to \ 
work in all his the condition of ihe covennnt, as well as to eon- 
vey thee good of it. (Jer. xxxt. 31-34.) !Ie hath done this tor 
others by an irresistible power. (Heb. lii. l,i.) Look up to 
Jesus, the Author and Finisher of your faith ; he came out of his 
Father's IxMom, not only lo give life by his death, but to enable 
bis to eat and close with him by faith, that they might never die. 
(John vi. 50.) So the Lord may work il in thee ; it is true, also, 
he may not ; T°' "' jfl lltlfpfflli''^'^' <r""''''>r'- »" i'nflifl'"'i that if the 
Lord had put it over unto thee lo believe, it is certain tliou 
shouldest never have believed ; but now the work is put into tlie 
hand of Christ : that which is imjiossihic to thee is possible, na}', 
e>$y, with him ; he can comprehend thee when thou const not 
apprehend him. This is exceeding sweet when thy body is siuk, 
and soul is deserted, incredible things to be believed are~pr&- 
ponnded, an impossible work to thy weakness urged, upon pain 
of God's HK-est and most unspeakable wrath : to consider i(Ja.ii«t 'i, 
. mjuejbotin lie_L9rd'9 own hand ; and it is his ollice, Sis glory ■ 
' to work faitlh and, a» the apostle speaki*, lo show mercy uata 
wem tKat are bHuI uprnbl only nnder rin, but also unbelief. ( Rum. 
xi. 32.) But why hath the Lord made thee feel th£jnabiliiy to v' 

oiuBelves, but to ask and seek for supply ; and the end 

b elle v eX. 

I mriwo 



of the ronlinuancc of Iho?ie wnnis is, that wc shuiilt] contiiitM 
ask and seek. And dost thou ihink iliou stinlL geek to the I 
bj his own hand lo create fitith, Hiid fclch (hoe in, and will n 
Lord Inke his titue to work it ? He that believes, sail 
spostle, (Rom. x. IL.) shall not be ashamed. Why so? 
the Lord, Mkith he, who is over all, is rich unto all that call i 
him. (Ver. 12.) If ihoo hast not a heart shut up from t 
ing of it, the Lord, who hath power, hath not a heart ehut i 
toward thee from working it. 

But withal be thankful exceedingly, nil you wfhose hearts t 
Lord hath drawn and overcome. He came to Lb own people tl 
Jews, aud would oft have gathered them, but Ihey would Dot ; ai 
therefore he forsook ihem, and lef^ their babilaliona desoltt 
' O, how oft would the Lord huve gathered you, and yon woald 
not ! Yet the I^rd hath not forsaken you, but called you in. 
whether you would or no ; the Lord hnlh taken many a nian at 
bia firiil word, and left him at the first repuUc, shaken olf the 
dust of his feet against him presently, (Miui. x. 14,) without a 
more entreaties lo accept of mercy. , Yet th ou b 
fused, but evm.CUlCi^?'! 'lie " ' 
driveirfrom^thee, hut hisTowelThave beenol 
Wtien'Tie EalFbeen ready to give thee up; whRii thou hast b 
under the hedges, and in tlie highways that lead to death, i 
didst never think of him, nor did^t desire him. yet he hath c 
pelled the« to come in; he hath made thee feel »ucb a 
a££lLof him, and made hims-elf so exceeding sweet, that t 
hast not been able to resist hie love, but lo cry out. Lord, t 
hast overcome me with mercy, I am not able to regist any n 
nay, which is more wonderful, when thou hast been gather 
and gune from him, and lost thyself and him also again, and it 
may Iw hast been offended at him, yet lie hath gone before thee 
into Galilee, and gathered thee up when thou hast been as wat«r 
spilt upon the ground : what should be the cause of thi?, but 
only this ? the work of faith lies upon him, both to begin and 
.' finish ; he must gather in all his lost sheep, and iherefor« he hatb 
\/ put forth an irresistible power of his Spirit upon thy heart, which 

list carry thee captive afier him. 

1 am afraid my faith hath been rather £££siiiuutuil>i ^ work o 

/ own power, than faith wrought by the Spirit's power : ' 
may I discern that ? _ 

If you are wrapped up in God's covenant, if any promise ba~ 
actually yours, if is iw prf? timet ion id tn^" pfWipnai^^^y fniiii 
of what is your own. Dost thou seriously will Christ, and re- 
aoKir neTer Lu -gi f 'e the Lord rest until he give thee rest in llim f 




Then sec Rev. xnii. 17. "Wlitwoever will, let liim take of the 
water of life." Dost thou thirst after Christ? Then read 
Is. Iv. 1-3. John vii. 37, " If any man thirst, let him come unlo 
me and drink." When Christ "saw their fail h," (Mntt-ix. 1,2.) 
whttt said he ? " Son, be of good cheer ; thy ains be forgiven^" 
the word signifies, be conficIenL It h no presumption lo believe 
pardon of sins now thou art eoroe unto me, not only for the heal- 
ing of tliy body, but es[>eeially for pardon of sin. It is. the great 
Bin of many siunta, when they da thint, and believe, and come ' 
lo Christ, and so are under the promise of grace ; yet Ihey think 
it presumption now to believe and lake possession of all ihoae' 
treasures that be in Christ, but look that the Lord should first 
make lliera feel, and [hen they will believe ; whereas faith 
should now receive and drink in abundantly of the fullness of 
Christ. Shall it be accounted presnmplion for any man to eat his > 
own bread, and drink his own drink, and put on his own clothes? 
The promise makes Christ and all his benefits your own ; there- 
fore it is no presumption lo apply them. 

Suppose you can not Had yourself within any promise, and you 
see no reastm to believe, only you have llie Lord's coll and com- 
mand to believe ; do you now, in conscience and obedience to this 
command, or to God's invitation and entreaty in the gospel, 
believe, because thou darcst not dishonor God by refusing his 
grace ? thou dost therefore accept of it ; this is no presumption, 
ttnluss ob edience be presumption. Nay, the most acceptable 
'obeaience,"wEicir is'tlic '^oWdience of faith," (John vi. 38;) 
for what was the ground on which those three thousaniT be* 
lieved? (Acts ii. 8«, 3tl, etc,) Peter said, "Repent, that you 
may receive remissioa of sin^:" now, what follows? "They 
that ^adly received the word were bapliKed." O. that word 
" repent " — i, e., as IIc«a expounds it, " return lo God and come 
in " — was a most sweet word lo lliem, and therefore they received 
it ; this was no presumption, either, for Peter to exhort them tc 
repent, or for them lo take the Lord (as ihat godly man said! 
at his first word. I know there is a subjection lo ihe gospel 
arising ottly fnitn slavish fear and carnal hopes, (Pd. Ixvi. S, 
xviii. 44 :^ this may be in presum|ituous reprobates ; but there i« 
a subjection arising from the sense of the sweetness and ez- 
C«cding goodness of God's call and promise. (Ps. ex. 2, 3.) As 
. a woman that is overcome with the words of her loving suiter ; 
h the man is precious, and hence bis words are very sweet, and 
I ovi>rcom« her heart to think, Why should such a one as I 
B be looked upon, by one of such & place? It is no presumption 
W now, bat duly to give her conitent ; so it is here, when the Lord 



is precious and his words (0. acoepi mc. O. come lo me) t 
ceeding sweel ; and hereupon, out of obcdienL-e. gladly yields up 
tuetf to thi; Lord, takes p03SC-««ion tA the Lord, this is no more 
preeumplion ibivn to aanclifj a Sabbath, or to pray, or 
httr the word, because the Lord's commands are herein Tcry 

•^ ».p..nlar|f^ r.^r.»mpn..;pf| ffli|l. ll U nn prP^iimpUnn In IipIIptp^ 

any know the sin, and hence believe in Clirisi, trust to Christ, 
id there is an end of their faith ; but what confession and sorrow 
in, what more love to Christ, follows this faith ? Truly none. 
Nuy, llieir failli is the cause why tbey have none ; for they think. 
If I truet to Christ to forgive them, he will do it. and there is an 
end of the business. Verily, this hed;^ faith, this bramble faith, 

"that cobrhes bold on Christ, snd pricks and 8<'ratches Christ by 
more impentleney, more contempt of him, is mere presumption, 
which sliall one day be burnt up and destroyed by the fire of 

jUod's jealousy. Fie upon that faith that serves only lo keep 
/a mun from being tormented before his time. Your sins would 
b^ your sorrows, but that your faith quiets you. But if faith be 
accompamed with repentance, mourning for sin, more esteem of 
God's grace in Christ, so that nothing breaks thy heart more 
than tlie Ibouglits of Christ's unchangeable love lo one so vile, 
and this love makes thee love much, and love him the more ; 
as thy sin increaseth, so Ihou desirest that thy love may increase ; 
and now the stream of thy thoughts runs, how ibou mayest live 
to llim that died for thee. This was Mary's fuilh, who sat at 
Chtisl'H feet weeping, wosliing them with her tears, and " loving 
him much, because much was foi^iven;" who, though she was 
accounted a presumptuous woman by Simon, (and Christ him- 
self suffered in his thoughts for suffering of her to come so near 
unto him.) yet the Lui-d himtielt' clears her therein, and justifies 
hor before Gud and men. Many a poor believer thinks, li' I 
should believe, I should hut presume, and spin a spider's web 
of failh out of my own bowels ; and hence you ehall observe, 
this not believing stops up ihe work of repentance, mourning, 
and love, and all cheerful obedience in them ; and, on the 
contrary, if they did believt;, it would be with them as them- 
selves think many limes, If I knew the Lord was mine, utid my 
sins pardoned, U, how should 1 then bless him, and love him, 
and wonder at him I how would this break my heart before 
him ! etc Now, I say, lei all the world judge, H' that which thou 
thjnkest would be preauniption he not rebellion, because it makes 
thee worse, and stops up the Spirit of grace in thee. Whereas 
that failh which lets out those blessed springs of sorrow, lovtt^ 


thank fulnesE, humbleness, eiu., what cnn it be else bnt such k 
BiLviiig fttiib us is wrought by the Spirit, because it lets in the 
Spirit more abundftntly into a dry and ilesulaM heart? 

2. The subject or matler of tai ih. . ■< 

This is the second thin}; in the description of fnitli ; the soul ^ 
of a L ii'"'''"^ « i nner ia the sutiject or_ _inalleiu)l' faitu. i Ao q~m 
not mean the mailer out oi' wnicta Inilbla wrought, (for there ia ^ 
no[hing in man out of whidi the Spirit begeis ii.) but that 
wherein failh i^ae^lgji. I nieiui bI«o the habit of faith, not the 
pri nciple of it i forlhal is out of man in the Lord Jesus, who is 
therefore ealted " oiir hope," as well as " our strcn^ ; " the 
soul, therefore, is the subject of faith, called " the heart ; " (Ron. 
X. 9, compared with Malt. vi. 21 ;) for we can not go or come to 
Christ in th is life with our bodies ; we are " here absent from the 
Lord," {'i (Jpr. t. :) but (he _soui^iu]_g(}_tii_liiin, the heart am 
be with him ; as ihe eye can see a thousand miles off, and re- 
eeive the speciea or image of the ibings it sees into it, so the soul, 
enlightened by faith, can see Christ afar off; it can long fgr, 
choose, and rest upon the Lord of life, and receive the Urely 
image of Christ's glory in it. {2 Cor. iii.) 

If Christ were present upon earth, the soul (not the body) 
only could truly receive him. Christ comes to his elect only by 
his Spiri t, and hence our spirits only are lit to rceeive^him Mid 
close with him. ThouMUidd hear Christ outwardly, that iiH 
wHrdlyorc deaf to all God's calls : their spirits see not, taste not, 
feel not ; it is, therefore, the soul Ihol is Ihe subject of faith ; and 
I say it is a humble, empty soul which is the subject, for a full, 
proud, broken spirit can not, nay, will not, receive Christ, aa we 
have proved ; and therefore (Luke xiv.) lite servant is com- 
manded to bid the " poor, halt, and blind, and lame to come in ; " 
tliey would not make excuses ax others did ; they that were 
atung to death with Aery Hergienis were the only men that the 
bra/en serpen! was lifted up for ihero to took upon, and lo be 
henled, (John iii. H ;) and therefore the promise doth not run, 
" If any man have wisdom, let him ask it ; " but. *" If any man 
want wisdom," (Lam. i. 5 ;) to, if any mnn want light, life, want 

Eice, pardon, want Christ and his Spirit, let them nsk, and the 
rd will give. Away with your money, if you come to tticso 
waters to buy, wid take freely. " If any man would be wise, let 
bim be a fool," (saith the bleiised apoelle.) an empty nothing, y 
A soul, i n a peris hing. hel^J aSi hopeluM ccndiliun. is the suhj eet _ 

"w faitir raBgii sfllv^eeT"^iel^iwel^^fTh^lt t^lre "gia^^ir^^ 

r of thrist, and therefore suet only can and will receive 
Christ, and come unto Christ by faith : and truly, if we had 


but hearts, (lie n>n.^ iteration of lliia migfal be groimd of great ctHnnV 
fort and confidence unto all God's people n'hosv souls come ool 
Jesus Christ, for that which wa« in Thomas (John xid.) is in ll 
men naturally, — if nre eould see Christ with our eyes, asd f 
him with onr hnnds, and embrace him (as Maij did) w ' ' 
arms, if we could hear himself speak, we could tlien believe; 
they said, " If he will come from llie cros-s" wi we eay. If 1 
will come down from heaven thud imio un. we will then belierall 
if we want this, we t'eiir wi- miiy In.' Hi lajil dc'i'<-i\ <•<}. because vi 
want sense, and can nol ciciic lo I'lo^e willi our fjes and hai 
the objects of our faith. Ilui O, cun»der this point: 
made partakers of Christ's life and salvation bj bim only, 
certainly by faith. Now, thi:* faith it not by s eeiQg.him with i 
eyes, coming near to him witti our bodies, but coming to 1 
with ou r s ouls ; the soul is ' the s^of faith~ Now, litis you mqrl 
do, though you never thus saw him, " whom ibougli you «* no^V 
yet believing you rejoice." This coming of the soul lo Christ t 
doth make a firmer union between thee and Christ than if (hou 
wert bodily present with him in heaven ; for many touched and 
crowded him that never were truly united lo him, or received 
virtue from him. If our souls were in the third heaven 
Christ, who of us would then doubt of our portion in him ? 1 1« 
you, if our souls go out of sin and self unto Christ Jesus, a 
the re rest. Ibis maices you nearer to him than if your souls wei 
Hinder his wing in the highest heavens. The poor seam 
'he is near dangerous shores, when he can not go dowi 
depth of the sea to fasten his ship, yet if be can cast hi 
twenty or Ibrly fathom deep, and if that holds, this quiets hia 
in the sorest storms. When we are tossed and can nol 
, Christ with our bodily presence, yet if our souls can 

our faith, our anchor, can reach him, and knit us lu him, ihitf 
should exceedingly comfort our hearts. 

How and where should my soul come lo Christ, who is now 

Ibsent from me ? 
Christ comes lo you in his word Mid coveniuit of praog. ; there 
is his Spirit, his trutfiV goodness, love, faithfulness ; receive this, 
you receive him ; embrace this, you embrace him. As among 
ourselves, you see great estates are conveyed und surrendered 
by bonds and writings. (Acts ii. 41.) When they received the 
word.ihey received Christ. (John xv. 7,) " If my words abido 
in you." i, e., if I abide in you by my words, you shall be fruitful. 
By jhe word let thine eye pitch upon the person. Do nol' 
only acton n I the promise true, but, with Samli, account him 
faithful who hath promised: and (hen let thy heart roll itself . 

il, iii. 1,) And from ,' 
leb. X. 19-21.) As 
I writing!, lo us, we| 
(C do not only believe/ 




Upon Ihat grace and fuilhfulness revealed in this vrord, lean upon 
Ilie breast of ibis beluved i and thus the gout, by ihe chariot 
wbeeU and vring» of the word, is profeisor of Christ in it, and 
carried up lo Chrisl'g croM, as dying. {Gal, iii. 1.) and from 
thence lo hb glory in his kingdom by it. (Heb. 
a man that gives a great esluie, by some w 

belicre it as if he were present; andby this we do not only 

the writing to be true, but the mnn to be faithful imd loving la 
us ; aod hereupon our hearts ore carried al'ler the tuan himself 
though afar off from us. Thus we aseend lo Christ in the cloud 
of I'^ih : a» Jacob, though he could hardly believe, yet aa Buoa 
us he was persuiuled Joseph was yet alive, his spirit presently 
revived, and it was immedialely with him, before his body carae 
to him. So it is with faiih : the soul goes unto Christ beturc our 
boilies and bouIs, both together, shall have itmuediale communion 
with him. 

3. The form of faith. 

This is the third thing in the description of faith : the coming. 
otikSJ'l'o'* »«"' <»"' "•' i"^"' """ Christ is the fQrm*of'iitUh, 
anTtESrwIieWtiiTtLTltfrltni-MBeiree-flfit comims, MiawWcE 
doth difference, is from all other •'races of the Spirit. The first 
act of faith, a« it uuitex us to Christ, is not assurance that ho ia 
mine, hut ajat minp to bim with assurnnce. and hereby he u be- 
come mine. " Come unto the waters," and " so buy wine and milk j " 
1. e., now make them your own. The " weary and heavy laden '* 
■liall not have rest unless they come to Christ for it. Faithdotli 
nothing fur life. — for that is the law of works, — it only receives 
bim woo hatli done all for it, it cumcs out of all it hath or doih 
— tike Abraham, that left his servants behind him when he wont 
up to God in the mount — unto Christ for life. Concave j( 
tlius. Adam had a principle and stock of life in liimsclf. in hisown 
band, and ih<:rcfure was to live by this, to live o( himself and from ' . 
himself, and therefore had no need nor use of failh. He lived 
by the j aw of worka. which the apostle sets iu a direct opposi- 
tion to ilie law of faith ; but Adiim, being rtow fallen, bath lo«t 
his life, and become, not like the mnn that fell among thieves, 
betwixt Jerusalem and Jerictio, stripped, wounded, and half 
dead, but wholly dead. (Eph. iL 1.) So that, let any man »eek 
life from himself, it is irapossihle he should live ; for, if there hail 
been a Law thai could have given life, our righteousness should 
have been Ihereby. (GaL iii. 21.) Hence it follows, if any y 
mnn will have life, hi must go out of him»«lf lo another, vik.,/ 
the Lord of life, for it. (John v. 10 ; vi. 27-'ii):) 

Now, obaerve itjthia very cumiDg, this very motion of the soul 


to Christ — a grace which Adam noither had, nor had 
to use — is (iiith ; the Sjjirii of Clirisi moving or drawing 
Boul, ibe Bolil is thciici; moved, and comes to Christ. (John rL'- 
G4, G5.) The soul, hy sin, is averted from God, and turns hiSJ 
bock ujion Uod ; Ihe luroing or coming of the soul (not uat»' 
duties of botmess, for that le obedience properly, but) unto " 
ni Christ again, is properly and formally faith. All evit. 

^/mail's self, and from himaelf; all """H'a g"*"' '° ^^ ■'■■• 

from Christ. Tlii nouU of all Tjod'a elect, seeing these 

for&uk^'and renounce themselves, in whom and from whom is 
their evil, and come unto ChriHt. in whom and from whom ia aiB'l 
their good. Thif ""'■"" "f |''° '"■■' between these extreme^ 
throughout that vast and inllnile distance that is between a unfi^ ' 
.wretched man and a blessed Saviour, isfeiUii for by faith, prin- 
cipally, we " pass from death to life." (John v. 24.) The soul of 
a poor sinner, wounded and humbled, aometimea knows not 
Chriat, and then cries out, as those. Acts ii. 37, What shall I 
do? Whither shall I go? Bomelimes dares not, sometimei 
can not ; it hath no heart to stir or come i it therefore looks up, 
and longs, and goes unto the Lord to draw it, like poor Ephraim. 
(Jer. xxxi. 18.) " 0, turn me. Lord, and then I shall he turned,'.' 
(LiuQ. V. 21;) and this is the lowest and least degree of faith. 
But at some other time, the soul mourning for nfint of the Lord, 
the Lord comes unto it with great clearness, glory, and sweetness 
of grace and peace i and hence the soul can not but come and. 
close with him, and cry, Rabboni, and say, Lord, it is thy 
pleasure to liave respect to such a clod of earth, to lender 
riches of grace to one so unworthy, and to bid, nay, to beseecV 
me to come and take. Lord, behold, I come. This is faith. 
Would you liave a proof of it ? Consider, therefore, these particn- 
larsi 1. Consider these Scriptures: (John vi. 35,) "I am the 
bread of life; he thatcometh to me shall never hunger, and he 
that believeth in me shall never thirst ; " wher e vnu see coip- 
^_/ ing togljf jaLflfi d believ in g in Chriat all are "tW I?^ So, (John viL 

- sfX" In ihe last day 6T 'the least, the Lor<i Uhrist cries out with 
much vehemency, If any man thirst, let him come unto me and 
drink." Now, in the next verse, (38,) our Saviour expounds this 
coming; ibr salth he, " He that beLievetb on me, out of bi> 
beUy," elc.-- 

So to come to Christ, as upon this to drink in of Christ's full- 
ness, ia believing in Christ. So (Heb. xi. 6) the apostle eulh, 
" Without faith it is ira{iossible to please God i " and then, in 
rendering the reason of this, explains what he meant by faith, vix., 
' ' our coming mito God upon a double testimony, bdiering 

: and. ^ 

first Ih at lie h. sceoiully, thai he ta a n; ward er of ihem that sepk ' 
him diligently, or (which is all one) rftib do come unw him. S 
(Juha i. 12,) "So nuiay us reixivvA him," (which ia nil oi 
with coming,) "he adopted tbem as eons, even to them that believe 
in his name." And hence we sltall observe, that the Scripture 
doth not attribute our righteousness and life to our believing of 
Christ, but to our believing on_£i^bust, in Christ, (a phrase pc*cu- 
liiir lo heavenly language, and therefore not found in any tiumun 
wr^r,) because it is not the bare believing of a testimony that 
isaVeth us, unless we so believe it as to believe in Christ, 
eaa not be but by coming to him, and as it were in him, 
him, our union with Christ being made complete hereby. 

'''i ''''iBli ^DOti which the Ixird p rom jgeth life, <"}'\ Bfll"^ 
men.-y. can not be workg, but taitliriU af In. ai ; lleti. xi. ^ ,, uut 
Jjirouglioul aime OM and new lestamenl, the Lord promiselb 
life aud salvation to comers, or to them that return. (Jer. iii. IS. 
Ex. xxxiU. 10. Joei ii. 12, 13. Ueb. vii. 25. John v. 40.) 

3. If unbelief be nothing else but a departing from God, faith 
can be nothing else but a coming unto God ; but that i 
nature of unbelief. (Heb. iii. 12; x. 38. John vi. G4-G9 ; 
xii. 37-40.) T[ia_Lor4!B greiu^ ptpt is to gather all his 
elect under the wings of Christ, (MalL xxiii. 87 ; Eph. 
i. 9, 10,) and therefore calls them to come under them, by tbo 
voice of the go«pel. The coming under them, therefore, can bo ' 

_ x^ o( [li" law Thus faith is tlie codling ' 

)ul lo ChrHi; But you will say, Did not many come lo 
Christ thai were never saved by Lira ? 

Yes, many came lo him with their bodily pr cflence. that went 
excluded from him. (John vi. 36.) 

But you will say. Do not many men's wills rome, arc not many 
nien'« hearts moving, toward Christ, and yet excluded from 
Christ? Do not many cry, I.ord, Lord? ar^not many enlJght- 
rned, ood taste of this heavenly giit, and yet fall away? I con- 
fees it is very true ; and therefore it is sot down in thb descrip- 
tion of faith, that it is the coming of the whole soul unto Christ. ^ 
Never did any yet come lo Chri&i, and receive him with tlioi^ 
vholcsoyk^viih nil iheir hearts^ but they had fruition uf himi 
and blessedness by him. Faith, therefore, is not the coming of 
the soul, bat the coming of the whole soul unto Jesus Christ, sad 
I this you may be established in upon these grounds. 
I 1, The Scripture expressly calb for this: (Prov. iii. 5,) 

L "Trust in the Lord with all thy heart." (Acts viil. 37,1 *'If 
u thou b«lievc»t with ihy heart, tbou shalt be enved." (Joel ii. IS,) 



/"Turn unto the Lord with all your hearts." (Jer. xxix- 11 
y You aliall find ihe Lord when jou seek him with your wl 

hearts." Aa wlien we hnve a great gii\ to bestow, and we 
poor maiii to whom we intend lo give it, whether he will t 
of it or no : Yes, sailh he, with all my heart: so it ie here ; 
Lord asks those he intends lo bestow his Sun upon, and Eailh 
ihein. You have lived thus long without him, and ihua 
abused him; wiD you now have him and ai;cept of him? 
Lonl, with all my heart. This is all the Lord requires, 
tfie Lord require no more of n:ie but to come ? Lord, this 
moat sweet; I come with all my heart, I come. 
2. Because Christ is worthy of the whole heait ; all mual 
'sold away to buy this field, this treasure. (Matt. xiii. 44,) " '. 
that lovcth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me,' 
A Hlthy lust, a base harlot hath bad thy whole heart, and ' ' 
thou Iliink tlie Lord Christ will have it divided ? ie not one 1 
too little for him ? are not ten tlioueand souls loo few to embraM* 
him. or eleave to him F 3. Because without tliis your coming 
to him is but feigned. (.ler. iii. 10.) " They return to me, not 
with their whole heart, but feignedly." To cleave to Chilst and 
a lust, to Christ and a proud heart, can not be unfeigned faitb ; 
to go to your lusts in lime of peace, and fly to Christ in times of 
extremity, is damnable hypocrisy. When conscience troubles 
you, you then go to Christ to ease you ; and when your uorulv 
wilb and lusts trouble you, you go to the world to ease you ; and 
BO your hearts are divided, and you come not wholly and only 
unto Christ for rest. Believe it, it is such a faith by which you 
raaj, as Samuel did on Saul's garment, take hold of liim, but ibe 
Lord will never take hold of you. Set a branch in the slock, if i 
it slays loosely in it, it will wiiher in time ; and this is t' 
cause of withering Christians , and of so many aposiaies 
cvH times! ihose ibat came to Christ, (Jotm vi..) and follow) 
him for a time, hul afterward fell away, (ver. 66.) what mas the 
reason of iheir fall ? vin., when they were offended at Christ, they 
knew whether to go from Christ ; but what sailh Peter? " Lord, 
wbilher should we go ? " (ver. 68.) If you lay the pipes thai are 
to convey water from a full fouolain, but one foot or one inch 
short of it, there can not be any water derived from thence, O 
beloved, what is the reason ihat many a man's faith doth him no 
good, derives no life, spirit, blood, efficacy, peace, power, from 
the Lord Jesus ? Is it because Christ is a dry Christ, and uii- 
williog to communicate ? Xo. no ; the wound is in their faith ; 
that pipe is laid but half way to him, they fall one fool short of 
him, their aouls come, but their whole souls do ni ' ■ < - - 





and hence they never reach Christ i they lie not in Christ, and 
therefore receive net from Chriat ; Ctirist is precious, (here Ihcir 
Htub come,) but not CKceeiling precious ; preciouane^ itself, as 
the word is, (1 Pel. ii, 7.) (here the whole soul doth not come;} 
the; cleave to Christ and reet upon Christ, (here their bouIs 
come,) hut they cleave not to Christ only, {ihus their whole souls 
do not come.) 4. If the whole soul by unbelief departs from 
God, then the whole aooi must relura and come again unto God. 

5. If the want of this be tite great cause why men are rejected 
of God, then the whole aoul muat return to him ; but this is the 
cause why all men under the means are rejected of God. " Is- 
rael would none of me," i. e., would not be content alone with 
me, would not " lake quiet amtentment in me," (aa the Hebrew 
word sigoiBes :) the Lord was not good enough for ihem ; but 
(heir hearts went out from him to other things, and therefore 
" the Lord gave them up to their own hearts' lust, and they 
walked in their own counsels." The woman that forsakes the 
guide of her youth, and seta her heart as much upon other 
men as her husband, is an aduhere^s, for which only she 
shall have a. hill of divorce. 

6. Because, aa iIir irw|M-l fi^^ rPvynU ri|rj.<t i» tli^ mifi.l. 
atld then offera him to the w ill, so fiiith, wlili;|j r^p^ par^lhd 
with the g ospgl,fiiratia<a..CI'^nat, (there the mind, one part of 
uie soul, goeji out,) then reccTves Christ gladly, (there the other 
^art, the will, goes out,) and m the whole soul comes to Christ. 
The gospel comes to all the elect, 6rat in great clearness and 
eridence of llie _lnUh of iU (I-TEms. i. 6,) to which the u nder- 
et and iog assents, and is persuaded of; secondly, in great Jiacts 
anS^goodne^, surpassing beauty and sweetness, (Lam. lii. 24,) 
with which the will is drawn, and so the whole sonl comes 
unto Christ/ for IHe goispel is not only true, but glad tidings 
to nil llie cIl-cl. espeeiully when bumbled at GikI's feel, (I Tim. 
i. 15.) "in whom," saiih the apostK (Eph, i. 12, 13,) "you 
believed after that ye beanl the word of truih," (there is the 
object of the understanding,) " the gospel of your salvation," 
(there is the goodness of it, the object of the will,) so that 
the whole soul is drawn to Christ in the work of faith. He 
that uuderslands how Hhfrum arh'ln'iim may be in two facultiea, 
inust not wonder if one grace be sealed in both faculties of un- 
derstanding and will ; no grace can be completely sealed in divers 
faculties, but gradually and imperfectly it may : the work of 
foith id not complete, when the undersianding is opened only 
to see and wonder at the mysicry of mercy in the gospel; 
but when the will adherer and clasps about tliat inAnite and 



surpassing good it sees, ilien it is perfected, and not liefore. 
(Jolyi vi. 40.) And tliis is tlie retisoii why saving failli (u 
it is ealled) doth not look ouly lo a bare lestimon; and assent 
5inlo il, as huma n )aijJi_Ujjth ; bcL'au^, in the gos[iel, not oalj 
dirine truili~is propounded lo ihe mind to assent unto, but ao 
1 and eternal .£ood_is ulTureJ to the heart and will of 
~~ ijiuce, and ihence it is that it ia not sufficient for 
1 to believe God or lo believe Christ, but be must 
hIso believe jfl ^im. or else he can not be saved ; the object of 
believing of him being if rum, or truth ; the object gf the second, 
\ bonuat, or good : take heed, therefore, a poor, lost sinner, an- ■ 
dAne in i is own ejes forever ; not knowing what t< 
it be to lie down, and lie slill at God's feet, as worlliy of nutli- 
ing but hell. What doth the Lord now do? the Lord Chriil^ 
by his gospel, first lets in a new light, and il pees the Lori 
Jesus there bleeding before ils ejes, and held forth as a prop 
pitiation to all that believe, to all Ihiit corae lo him ; the miaf 
sees this mystery, this exceeding rich grace and free men^ 
and thinks, Happy are they that share in this mercy ? but wil 
the Lord look u|)on such a nothing as I ? can such infiniM 
treasures be my portion ? The Lord, therefore, calls, and bidf 
liim come away and enter into the possession of it. Thy s' 
indeed, are great, saith llie Lord ; yet remember bloodtbirc^ 
Manasseh, persecuting Paul, were pardoned. Nay, reinembel 
my grace is free, for whose sake I invite thee. I beseeol 
thee lo come in ; lliy wants indeed are many ; yet remembw 
that thou hast, therefore, the more need anil more cause t» 
I come, and that it is 1 that have made thee empty and poor 
1 on purpose, that thou mighbest come : it is true, I have atf 

y eternal purpose lo exclude many thousands from mercy, yofe 

■vjmy purpose ia unchnngeable, never to cast ofi' any that ds 

come lor it; I never did it yet, I will not do it unio llia^ 

if thou dost come; it is true, many may presume, yet it i^ 

' no presumption, but duly, to obey my grcaLca inma nd! and ] 
is the greatest sin that ever tht>u didst or canst contrail 
now to reject it, and refuse this grace : come, therefore, pooh 
weary, lost, undone erealure. Hereupon the heart and * ' 
come, and rest, and roll ihemeelveB upon these bowels, i 
there rest; thus thc_vhol£^oul comes, and this, I eay again^^ 

I I'uilh. Just as it is with the ^dBIone drawing tlie iron i wGS 
would lliink that iron should be drawn by it ? but there is 
secret virtue coming from the stone which draws it, ajid so ; 
comes and is united lu it ; so who would think that ever such a 

Jroii, heavy, euthy heart should be drawn unto Christ ? jret d 


Lord leta out a secret virtue of truth stnA sweetness from himself- 

which draws the soul to Chrisi, and so it comes. J 

Maj not (he considertUion of this be of great ransolation to 
those that want aseumiice . and Uiererore think ihey hnve no 
failh ? O, remember that if thou comest unto Christ, as that 
poor woman of Canaan, — she had no assurance she should be 
helped of Christ; nay, Christ lells her to her teeth,- that he 
would not cast children's bread to such dogs ; jet she catns to 
him, and looked up to free mercy, and elasped about him, and' 
would not away. You will say. Wad this faith ? yes, our Sa- 
viour himself professeth it before men and angels, '' O, giTat is 
thy failh." (MatL xv. 28.) 

So I eay unto all you poor ccealures whom the Lord hath 

humbled, and made vile in your own eyes, unworthy of children'^ 

bread as dogs ; yea, you look up unto and rest upon mercy with 

your whole heart ; this ia precious faith in the account of Chi-i^L^ 

But how shall I know when the whole soul comes to Christ?^ 

When'fBe eyeTif'tte soul so sees Christ, and the heart su 

embraceih and rcsteth upon Christ, as that it resleth in Christ, 

fta in ils portion and aU-sufficienI good : many rest upon Christ 

that do not rest in him ; that is, that are not abundantly satiafied 

with him ; and hence their souls go out of Christ to other thinj^ 

lo perfect their rest, and so their hearts are dirided between 

Christ and other things. 0, "fear" this, saith the apOBtle, 

(Ileb. iv. 1,) " lest, there being a promise left us of entering into 

his rest, any of you fall short of it ; " for (saith he) " we that 

have believed do enter into rest." (ver. 3.) So say I to you : of 

all delusions, fevcJliis, lest, when you come to Christ, and real 

upon Christ for life and salvation, that you rest not in Christ. 

" I tell you," saith Christ to tliose that came to him, and were 

constant followers of him, (John vi. 53,) "except you eat the 

flush and drink the blood of the Son of God, you have no life in 

you." MThat is this eating and drinking? verily, sipping and 

lasting is not properly eating and drinking ; tasting your meat 

will not satisfy you, and therefore will not nourish life in you. 

To eat and drink Christ is to reeeive him. as to satiate aud snt- 

bfy (he soul with him, to quencli al l your deaire s, your hungering 

11 ftiid llijrsiing in liim, unltmiyEiuI saitii, as he said in another 

a case. ** It is enougli that Joseph lives ; " so. Lord, I have enough 

I pow I have this lov e, ^is gra ce of Christ to be my portion ; now 

I jou rest in ChfistTF^r i^ ihel^ "Be'^me great good a man 

I enjoys, if tlicre lie any good wanting in it, it is not ]>as)jibte that 

I bis whole heart should be set ujHtn it ; e^. gr., a man Imlh food, 

I but if he wanu elotht», aud his bread wUl Dot clothe him, his 

£08 THE souxn bkukvcr. 

whole heart will not be set upon his food, but upon that w1 
may clothe hira albo ; eo, on the coalrnrj', if there be an emu 
good, wherein he finds all in one, no good out of it that is iraDI- 
ing in it, il ie certun ihfit the whole gouI is carried after this 
good ; so it is here, when the soul to comes to Christ, ns that it 
cornea for all good to him, and so finds all good ia him, that ha 
TTiwjnlj supports the sinking eonl, veril}' the whole soul is oi 
cotoe,' because, a£ it fell beibre it came ail wants and evils out 

'him, eo now it finds all fullness in him ; and whither should 
whole Hjul be carried but aAer ^uch a good ? when the Lord calla 
to the soul to come and take all with nothing, take all or nothing 
And hereupon it comes and drioks, as it is John vii. 37, satisfy- 
ing itself there, and professing. Lord, I now desire no more ; I 
have enough- brethren, what faith there is among men at this 
day I can not tell, but this 1 am sure was Abraham's faiih, (Gen. 
xvii. 1.) and David's faith, (2 Sam. xxiiL 5,) and Peter's faith, 
(John vi. tiB,) and Paul's faith, (Phih iii. 8. 9. Gal. vi. U.) 
When the soul thus rests upon the rock Christ, the gates of hell 
may avail, but never prevail against such a one : he that bath 
set the whole world at bis heels, and sold himself out of all for 
tliis pearl, and tliis abundantly recompenseth all his losses, such a 
one bath Christ hb own, and shall never be deprived of him 
again ; the Lord never gives his elect any rest out of Christ, 
that they may find rest at laet m ClirisU When thus the soot 

jis entered into rest, the whole soul is drawn here, and this is the 
great reason why many men famous in their generations and 
^mes in the eyes of others for faith, yet rotten at the heart, and 
thence turn apostates, one proves covetous, another .ambitious, 
another voluptuous, another grows conceited, another grows con 
lentious, another grows formal. What is the reason of thiai 
Verily, they did rest upon Christ, hut did never find rest il 
Christ, and therefore their whole soul never came to him ; Chriffl^ 
after some time of profession, grew a dry and common Christ 
unto tbem, though at first they wondered at him, and be was 
very sweet unto tbem ; and hence they departed from him as 

. from an empty, dry pit in simimer time, where they found noth- 

ling to refresh them. But the Lord Jesus carries it toward all 
the faithful as Elkanah did toward Ilanuah j though she was in 
a fit, much vexed and troubled for want of children, yet because 
be loved her exceeding dearly, he quiets her again with this: 
*'Am iioti better unto thee than lensuns?" So, ibough they may 
be unquiet lor some odd fits for want of many things, yet because 
Christ loves theni,'he brings them back unto their rest, saying, 
Am not I better than all friends, all creatures, all abiliti^ uL 




spiritual creAted exeellenuea ? aud hereby they finii rest to their 
eou1» in hiro again. 

But is tliere any believer's heart so knil unto Christ but that 
there is a heart aUo st^r other vanities ? Do they Bnd suvh 
rest in him as that they find no disquielncM? Is tlicru not an . 
unregenerale part and much unbelief remaining ? Is any man's 
faith made perfect tliAt the whole soul must come, or else there 
u no true f^th ? 

It is true, there is an unregenerale and a regenerate part in a^, 
godly man, but not a heart and a heart, (the note of a wiekt^d 
man in Scripture phrase.) There are disij^uietin^Jn the be-artB^ 
of saints, after that they be in Christ reven'"^o!cimon himself 
may sometinies seek out of Christ for reat in his orehnrds and gitr- 
dens, knowledge and wisdom ; yei there is a great di&erunee 
between these that arc in the saints, arising from the unregen- 
erale part, and those iliat be in the wicked, arising from a heart 
and a heart, or a double heart-t-anA-tb is di ff ere wea i^ 

A double-minded man, who hath a double heart, makes not a 
daily war against that heart wluclTciirrtes hira away from r 
ing only in Christ ; for Christ quiets his conscience, and the 
world comforts his heart ; Christ gives him some rest ; and b^ 
cause this is not full, his heart runs out to the creature and to 
his lusts for more ; and so between tliem both hehatJi_£ut,jUld 
he ii quieted with ihia.lieinirse he t'eels what he sought forj 
and therefore he must needs have Christ, else bis cons 
not be quiet ; and he must nee<U have bis lusts, bis 
this world too, else his heart is most unquiet ; but let hint 
have boih. he is now quiet. (Mitwh iii. 11.) The priests tench 
for hire, (there llie world quiets them,) yet they will lean upon > 
tlie Lord too, because this also comforts them ; what do they 
do ? do they make war against tins woful frame ? No, no, but 
bless themselves in it, saying, " No evil shall come to us." Itut 
a pour believer, whose heart is upright, it is true there are many 
runnings out of his heart afler other vanities, and much uuqiiiet- 
ncsa of spirit, j^t the regenerate part makes war_a£ninst iheno, 
as God's enemies and the di^lurliers of the i>eace of Christ's 
kingdom. (P«. slii.) David professelh his tears were his meat . 
day and night, (ver. 3,) and his heart wag wofulty sunk and 
fallen; yet what dolh he? First he chides himiwlf: *• Why art 
thou cast down, O my soul?" And then, secondly. he makes his 
U moan to ihe Lonl of it. (ver. 5, G.) " Lonl. my soul is cast down s 
I O Lord, pity me." You thiill see, also, (Fs. Iixiii. 2,) his eyes 
L were daszlcd with the glory of the world and the wicked in it. 


tiinl lie had almost forsaken God ; yet nilliin a little while ai 
be gels in[o the sanctuary of God, and ilien loathes himself 
sui^ brutish and foolish thoughts, and Josi-Ih with God again, 
•aying, " Wlioin have I in heaven or earth but thee ? " (ver. 26.) 

'. All tlie outronnings of liie hearts of the faithful, 
quietness of spirit thereby, make tbem to reluri: 
again, and give them the more rest in ilie conclusion. David nM| 
bird out of his tiest for a time, and therefore when he coiisidei 
liow the Lord had saved his eyes from tears, his soul from h< 
I'eturns again, and sailb, " Ri^lum to thy rest, O my soul." 1 
XXV. 13, it is said, " hia soul shall dwell at e^se," or (as the word 
signifies) "shall lodge in goodness;" some hard work, full of 
trouble, some strong lust, or and temptution, desertion, affliction, 
the Lord exerciseth the soul wi[hat for some time ; and so long 
as the soul is in heaviness and much weariness of spirit, as it it 
1 Pet i. 6, yet when this day's work is done, when the sin is sub- 
dued, nnd the temptation hath humbled him, then a believer's 
Bf)ul shall lodge in goodness ; he shall have an easy bed and ao^ 
millow to rest on at nigbL When have the faitliful sweeter luffl 
^11 Christ's bosom than after sorest troubles, longest eclipses dl 
[God's pleased fate ? when do iheir souls cleave closer to tfa* 
Liord than when they are ready to forsake the Lord, and 
the Lord them ? Certainly fire is wholly carried upward, when 
that which suppresseth it makes it at last break out into greater 
flame. Peter falls from Christ ; yet he is Pfter, a stone cleaving 
most close unto Christ, above all other the apostles, becuise, 
bis fall being greater, his faith clave the closer to the Lord 
ClirisI forever after iL Solomon's heart certainly never clave 
so un»eparab]y unto the Lord as after his fall, wherein he did 
more experiment ally find and feel the emptiness and vanity of 
those things wherein he did imagine before something was to be 

"■I found; but he that hath a double heart never enters into rest, 
but the longer he lives, the moi-e common Christ, his trutli, and 
promises grow ; they ore but fading flowers, whose beauty and 
sweetness affect hiro for a time ; but they wither befoi-e the 
snnset. And, therefore, the longer he lives, the teas fuvor be 
finds in these things, and therefore takes less contentment therein ; 
the Lord Jesus and all bis ordinances grow more flat and dry 
tilings to him ; and therefore, though at first he might rejoice 
fas John's bearers, John v. 35) in these burning and Ebining 
lights, yet it is but for a season ; at Inst he di^eovers himself- ' ' 
not by n renewed returning lo hia rest, but by a wearyish 
»aking of iL 

^^_The raven never returned to the ark 



live Upon the floating carrion on ihe waters ; wbereas the dove, 
finding no rest there, returns again. 

Fourthly, the end of faith. 

This is the fuurth parlicular in the description of futli : Ttic 
whole soul uomcth lo riiriiit, for C 'l l''''*' HP** "*' ]\ft '""'■'''° ; and 
this is the end of faith, or of a believer's coming unto Christ. 
The end uf faith ia sometimes expressed by a general word^^^i^ 
(John V. 40.) but you niu^I remember that hereby is meant the 
Lord of lilf first, nml >jtf all tl ip lilp«ir[ ps of life . The falseness 
wid liypocrisy of Clirii4t's~rollowerB ap[>eured in this, (John vi. 
26:) Yuu seek me, saitli Christ, for loaves; that was their end; 
as many a one in these days, if they Ik in outward misery, seek 
unto Christ for outward mercy; t»m in time of faniiDe, health 
in time of sickness, peace upon any terms in lime of war ; itpd 
if they be in any inward distress, now they seek to Christ for 
comfort and quiet ; and so, like many sick patients, desire ths 
physician, not to have him married to theg i.hiit for e£me of bU 
physic only, to be h gule d by hi 'm. But wliat saiih our Saviour to 
llese persons.^ jver.^V,) " /jabor not for the meat that per- 
isheth;" what should be the end of their labor then? be tells them, 
" but for that bread that endures to everlasting life." What ia 
this breftd ? (see the 33d, 35th, and 48th verses :) he telU them, " I 
am the brcail of life ; " seek for me therefore, come for me i and 
look, as none con have life from tlie broad, unless tie first fbcd 
upon the bread itself, so none can liave any life or benefit 
from Christ that comes not first lo Christ for Christ. Conceive 
of this thus : Ciod in Christ is the complete object of faith un- 
der a double notion. First, as suffl^icot, in being oil we want 
unto us: secondly, as effigipni, in enmmunicating all to us, and 
doing all for us. In iTie Rnt resjtect, ho is Elshaddai in Lis 
promii^; in the second respect, lie is Jehovah, (Kx. vi. 3,) in 
making good his all-sufUcient promise. Hence faith comes to 
him for a double end: first, that he would give himself and bo all 
to it : secondly, tiiat be would communicate all his blessings aod 
the lieneiits also, and so do all for iu For'in the covenant of 
grace, tlie Lord doth not only promise a new heart, pardon uf 
•in, with the rest of those spiritual benefits, but also hiuiBvir: 

I" I will bo iheir (iod. and they shall l>« my people." Hence faith 
comes Uriit fur that which the Lord principally promiseth, viz., God 
himself, and then for all the rest of those heavenly and glorious 
benefits I and hence it is, if any man come for Christ himself, 
without his benefits, and regard not tlie conveyance of them, 
L the Fiunilista at this day do, who abolish all inlierent graces, 
I And some of them all ordinances, because Christ is all to them ; 




or if any come for the benefits of Christ vriihout Christ himself, 
■a manj nmong ourselves <lo, wlio never aecount iheniselvn 
bapiiy in him, but only by some abilities ib«y ret-eive from biio ; 
neither of these come iviib a single eye, nor fix a right end 
In their dosing with Christ : you must first come for Chrbt him- 
■elf, and so for all hi^ benefits. 

For eslid>lishing your hearts in which truth, consider these 
things: — 

1. Consider what drives any man to Christ. Is not sense of 
w ants no main thi ng ? Now, what are a Christian's wants, when 
the LotA hull) iiumhled him? Are they not, first, w ant of Cb rLsl; 

.and secondly, of all the beDefltg^of ChriM ? viz-T >igbteou siiess. 

[fpoec. t'grdaD.,X1 3'cei g lory. (Jolin svi. 9.) If, (fier«(ore, the 
amth oTallllie elect twl a want of both, dolli not faith come to 
Christ for both ? (John iv. 10,) " If thou kneweat the gift of God," 
(i.e., the worth of him, and thy wBnt of bim,) "thou wouldest ask, 
and he would give thee water of Ufe." 

2. What doth the Lord offer in the gospel ? Is it not first 
■ Christ himself, and then all the benefits of Christ ? (la. ix. 
' 6, 7,} "To us a Son is born, lo ua a Son is given;" in the re- 
- oeiving therefore of Christ by faith, what should the soul aim at, 

but that it may have the Son himself, and so all his benefits with 

3. Can any man have eternal life that not only hath not the 
|i61">^'irt dowjiig from the Son, but that wants the Son himself? 
Iain sure the apostle expressly ailirms if ; (1 John v. 12,) " He 
that bath the Son hath life, he that hath not the Son bath not 

I Itfe:" faith therefore must come for Christ himself : as in mar- 
■jiage the woman consents first to have the man, and so to have 

all other benefits that will necesGuxily follow upon lhi8. 
1 4. The happiness of all the saints consists in two things : first, 
i jinion to Christ; secondly,. ty )ippiU"'0" "^'h ChrisL Faith, 
tKef efBM, plttlSEth first upon Chi Ut himself, that It may have sure 
and eertain unioQ to him, (tor our union is not unto any of the ben* 
efit« flowing to us from Christ ; we are not united unto forgiveness 
of sins, nor peace of conscience, nor holiiicsss, etc., but unto 
. tlie person of the Son of God himself;)' and then, secondly, com- 
eth for the communication of all the benefits arising only from 
union ; as Paul (Phil. iii. 0, 10) esteems "things dung and loss," 
first, " to be found in him, that so he might lutve bis righteousness" 
in justification, ^'and feel the power of his death and resunec- 
' , Son " in eanctifiention, etc. In one woi-d, fiuth first buys the pearl 
itacif, and then sucks to be enriohnd by it ; it finds Uie treasure 
ut gOWt tfoT. peace, mercy, favor, reconciliatioit, in ( 



bat then buys the field ilself, that it may have the treasure also- 
(Mutt. xiii. 44.) The Lord Christ's great deaire U, that "all Ins 
might be with him to see ]ua glor^,'' (John xxir. 14 ;) and faith 
desires fir^t to have bim and be forever with him, and so to par- 
luke of that glory : the Lord's great plot is, first to perfect the 
saints in Christ ; (Col. ii. 10,) " ye are complete in him ; " then 
to make them like to Christ by communicating life, grace, peace, 
glory from him. (Col. iii. 3, 4. 1 John iii. 1, 2.) Faith, thercfore,l/^ 
Bni quiets itself in him, then seeks for life from him i it cornea 
first fev-£hrist, and then for alt the beHe^ia of Christ. 

O that this truth were wull consiilereil I How would it dis- 
cover abundance of rotten, counterfeit faith in the world ; some f 
eeekiag for peace and comfort, and catching at promises without 
seeking first to have the per^in of Cbriat liimseltj " in whom only 
all the promises are yea and amea." Others despising- the bene- 
fiW-ol ' Cb f M t , e«]*eeiaUy grace, tu>Une&ii,jiD4 life from him ) be- 
cause, say they, Christ is all iu all to ihfim. Ask them, Have yon 
any grace, change of heart, etc ? Tueb I what do you tell them of / 
yrepenlAoce, and faith, and holiness? They have Christ, audi ' 
/that is sn^ienti Ihey have the substance, what should they do\ 
i/aaw with shadows of ordinances, ministries, or sacraments?', 
They have all graces in Christ ; why should they look either for 
being of, or evidence from, any grace inberciit^n themselves? 
They have a Uving holy h^, but Christ's liody, they say. la a 
dry skeleton, a dead cnrcass, and they are but dry bones ; and is 
it M indeed? Then look that Ood should shortly bury thee out 
of his sight ; assuredly, you that want and despise the benctits 
I coming from him, shall never have part nor portion in him at the 
/ great day of aciM>unL Christ is a Saviour to save men from 
( ^eirjtoiS not to save m en and their sins ; Christ is king and 
pnesl of his church, " holyand separated I'rom sins," { Heb. vii. 26 ;) 
and if yon have any part or jtortion in him, he hath made you 
kings and priests also to God and his Father, and hath not left you 
in your pollution, but wonhed you from it in bis own blood. (Kvv. 
i. 5, 6.) The law of God is wrillen on the heart of Christ. I 
(Ps. xl. 8, witli Heh. x. 5-7 ;) and if ever ho wraps you up in*' 
the covenant of grace, he will writ« bis law in your hearui* 
1 -*|»«j (Ueh. viii. 10.) 

I Let all deluded liinil[ji? tremble at this, that, m advandn|d 
I Christ hinwelf, and free grace, abolish and despise those heaven4 . 
I ly benefits which flow from him unto all the elecL Let olhcr^ I 
■ Mso mourn over themselves, that have with much aiHiclion been | 
I Heking aft«r Christ's benefils, peace of conscience, holiness of I 
1 kcart and life, promisee to assure them of et«mal glory, but have I 


not souglit first to embrace and hare (lie person of ibe 
Jesna himself. 

0, come, come Iherefore unto the Lord Jesus for Christ bis) 
self, and for all hia beneiits ; I say fur nlLhJ s. bco efita. This is 
wbieh the nfxwile prays for wilL bende Jknees for ihe Ephes 
that lliey might — not take in a little, but — comprehend 
beiglil, depth, length, breadth of Christ's love, that ao 1 
might be filled with all the fullness of God. This is that wl 
our Saviour expressly with much vehemency enlls for ; (John 
37,) " Let all that thirst come unto me and drink ; " not sip an^ 
taste a little, as reprobates and apostates do, (Ileb. vi. i, 5,) but 
drink, and drink abundantly, as it is. (Cant. ¥. I.) And observe 
it, that upon these very terms Ihe Lord tenders grace and 
cy, (Rom. v. 17.) The apostle doth not sny, They that receiv* 
n little, but abundance of grace, shall reign by righleousni ~~ 
unto eternal life. " Open thy mouth nide, and I will fill i 
(Fs. Ixxzi. 11, 12.) And most eertainly this is one princi] 
difference between the faith of the elect and the reprobates, — 
and if I mistake not, the principal, — the elect close with Christ 
for that end, for which the Father offers him, which is, that 
L they might possess his^Soii, and all his benefits, and therefore 
I come poor and empty for all ; the reprobate come not 
\ for all, but for so much and no mare than will serve their 
1 own turn ; in misery they would have Christ lo dcdiver 
Uhem ; but what core they tor spiritual mercies ? In trouble of 
consuencB, or after their soul falls into filthy lusts and sins, they 
come to Christ to forgive them and comfort them ; but what care 
they for holiness and a new nature ? Some sins they would hare 
Christ save ihcra from, but they regard not redemption from all. 
They can not come to Christ, that all the powers of darkne^ 
may be perfectly subdued, that their own sins, and selv^ con- 
ceits, and wills, may be led away captive by this mighty con- 
queror ; that Christ, in all his authority, grace, peace, life, glory, 
might be forever advanced in them and by them. It was AuS' 
tin's complaint in his time of many of his hearers, that CkrUtum 
astequi, lo have Christ, was pleasing to them ; but »t^ti Chris- 
tum, to follow Christ, this was heavy. To close with Christ's 
person is sweet to many ; but to close with his will, and to come 
lo him that lie would give them a heart lo He under it, this bene- 
lit they desire not. All Christ is useless and needless: but 
.J soroethhig from Christ is preuioua to them; for the Lord Jeans' 
sake, beloved, take heed of this delusion. If any thing hath been 
bought for us at a dear rate, and cost much : if the man should 
to hold any part of it back, we will not abate h''m any lliin|^, 



wc will Imvo ii. (ill liecaiiBC it cost dew/I lell you pardon of 
ain, pearu with God. Ilie odoplion of sods, llie spirit of grat.'c, per* 
ecvenuice lo the eml.lbe kiitgdoin of glory, the riches of marcj, 
have been bought for you by a ilonr and great price, (he precious 
blood of Cliridi ; and therefore, if the jastiee of God should bold 
back any thing, or thy own belief tell thee these are too gr«at 
and many foi- so vile a creature as thou art to enjoy, yet abate 
llic Lord nothing ; say tliou art vile, yet Christ's blood, that 
bought not tKHne, bat all these, is very precious, and therefore 
lAke them all to thyself, as thy ponion forever, and " bless the 
Lord," as David doth, CPa. xvi. 7,) " that gave thee this coun- 
ecl." Whiles you are in peace, it may be you may neglect bo 
great snivntioa ; but the time of distress aod anguish may come, 
wht'reiu you may feci a need of lUI, even of those hidden depths 
uf mercy above your reach and reiisoo ; and therefore, as bees, 
gather in your honey in summer time, and. with Joseph, lay up 
in these times of plenty, wherein the exceeding riches of grace ia 
oj>pned and poured out at your heels for those limes of ap- 
proaching famine, and for those many years of spiritutJ deser> 
tion and distress; wherein you may think, Cun it stand with 
llie honor of God to save ituch a poor sinful creature as I am? 
What iron heart is not drawn by this love, for the Lord to invit« 
you to potiseas all or notliing ? Dives, in helL, was desirous of a 
drop to cool his tongue ; und behold the very depths and seas of 
gnire arc opened for thee to come in and partake of, if the Lord 
Jesus should be offered unto thee to pardon some sins, but not 
mII ; lo jmrdon all sins, but not to heal thy nature also ; or lo 
heal some backslidings, but not all; to supply thy spiritual 
wanls. but not outward also, as may be best for thee i or to sup- 
ply outward, but not inwant and spiritual i if he should offer to 
do thee ;;ood in this life, but not in death nor after death, you 
might refuse to cotnc in ; but when all is offei^d, all that mercy 
which no eye ever saw to pity thee ; all that love whcruwitli 
Abraham, David. Paul, etc., were embraced ; now to refuse to 
come up and possess these, how can you escape the sorest ven- 
gnonce of a jealous God, that neglect so great salvation ? O 
Lonl ! what extremity of anguish and hitieme&s wilt thou one 
day be in, when the contempt of this grace, gowing upon thy 
conscience, shall press thee down with tliese titoughls : I am lujw 
under all misery, but 1 might have had all God's graoe, all Christ's 
glory 1 but, wretch that I am, I would noL/ Methinks, if your own 
good hereby should not draw you, yet the exceeding great glory 
I the Lord shall have (hereby should force you to accept all 
"s grace I for, if thou didst receive a little, believe n 


little mercy toward thee, this makes tliee sometimes eicei 
tbankfti); doth it not? And the very hope of more maket 
heartbreak forth into a holy boasting and glorying in Chriat: 
" Who is a God like unto thee ? " Suppose therefore you drank 
in all, and received all, that which the Lord freely offers, should 
not the Lord be exceedingly magnified then ? Coulde^t thou 
contain thyself then without crying out, ""O Lord, now let 
thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen " (and 
my soul has now possession of) " thy salvation " ? Woutdeat not 
call to the hills, and seas, and earth, and heavens, and saints, and 
angels, to break forth into glorious praises, and bless this God? 
But what have I to do to come, that am bo poor, and empty, 
and full of woes, and wants, nnd sins i Never was any to 
mi»<cmblc, and blind, and naked, as I. 

If faith comeih for all lo Christ, and fetcheth all from 
then never be discouraged because thou hast nothing to t 
\^ Dnio him ; let all thy wants and miseries be arguments and motivn' 
therefore to come uuto him. (Rev. iii. 17, 18,) " Because ihou 
art poor and naked." nay, because thou " knowest it oot," anil 
art not affected with it, therefore come unto nic, and "buy eye 
Halve, and gold, and white raiment" " Lord, pardon my ain," 
saith David, " because it ia great ; have merey upon rae, f ' 
am consumed with grief, and am in trouble. Let mercy 
truth continually preserve me, for innumerable evils haie t 
passed me round about. Let us return unto the Lord, becai 
he hath wounded us." I am a dog, therefore let me han 
crumbs, said the woman of Canaan. O, this is cross to sen 
and reason, and we can not believe, while we are so eioeedJi _ 
poor, empty, vile, that the Lord should look upon us ; but, beloved, 
you little think what wrong you do to yourselves and the Lord 
Jeaus hereby : for by this means Christ is not so much exalted, 
nor the creature humbled, — both which, concurring in faitli, 
make those acts of faith most precious, — for while you stand 
upon something, and would have something to bring to Christ, 
you hereby exalt yourselves ; but when you come with sense 
of nothing else but woes and wants, and see Christ now making 
of you welcome, 0, this is not only merey, but ravishing mercj. 
If you should come with sense of somewhat to Christ, and ""' 
ace hia love to you, you might glorify merey in the heigl 
and length, and breadth of it, but not in the depth of it: uide 
you see it reaching its hand to you, when you are fallen into 
, so low and poor a condition as nothingness, and emptiness, and 
1 misery itself. And therefore do not come to Christ only for 
\ the benefits of the covcniint, but for the condition of it ' 




When you feel a wnnt of faith iteelf, as Hezekiah did, 
(h. xxxviii. 14,) " Enird, I am opprossed, uodcrlake for me," 
(1 Kings viii. 57, 5S,) do not undertake to fulfil aaj port of Ui« 
covenant, or any condition in it, or any duly required of thee, of 
thyself, bui go eraply lo Cbrist, and Bay as David, " Lord, I 
will run Che ways of tky sakalion, if thou wilt set my heart at 
liberiy." (Fs. cux. Si, 33.) " Quicken me, and 1 will i»ll upon 
Ihy name." (P«. Ixxx. IS.) Be strong in the I>ord, und the 
{rawer of his might, but not of thine own. 

But I come for all. and am never a whit the better, but as 
poor and miserable still as ever I waa. 

If the Lord keeps you poor and low, yet the same motive that 
miide thee come, let it make tliee slay ; it may be the Lord seet 
thou wouldest grow full and lifted up if he should give thee a lit-; 
tie, and therefore keeps thee low ; better be humble thiui full aniH 
proud. " Let us go unto the Lord. l>ectMi»e be batb wounded, 
broken, aiid slain us." But they might object. We do eome^ 
but 6ud no help, do enre. It may be so ; yet it is Hsid, " After 
two days he will revive us, and the ibird day we sIihII live in his 
sight, and we shall koow him,