6 3
THE WORKS
EGBERT LEIGHTON, D.D,
ARCHBISHOP OF GLASGOW.
TO WHICH 13 PREFIXED
A LIFE OF THE AUTHOR.
LONDON:
T. NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW;
EDINBURGH, AND NEW YORK.
CONTENTS
Page
LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON,
ii Y JAMES AIRMAN, ESQ. i
A PRACTICAL COMMENTARY ox THE
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
CHAP. 1 1
CHAP. II 65
CHAP. Ill 145
CHAP. IV 230
CHAP. V 279
EXPOSITORY LECTURES ON
PSALM xxxix 311
ISAIAH vi 324
ROMANS xn 331
CHARGES, &.c. to the Clergy of the
Diocese of Dunblane 338
LETTERS written by Bishop Leighton
on different Occasions, 345
EIGHTEEK SERMONS.
SERMON I.
JAMES iii. 18. But the wisdom that
is from above is first pure, &c 351
SERMON II.
JOB xxxiv. 31, 32. Surely it is meet
to be said unto God, I have borne
chastisement, I will not offend any
more, &c • 356
SERMON III.
ISAIAH xxviii. 5, 6. In that day shall
the Lord of hosts be for a crown of
glory, &c 361
SERMON IV.
ISAIAH 1.x. 1. Arise, shine, for thy
light is come, and the glory of the
Lord is risen upon thee, 365
SERMON V.
On the same Text, 370
SERMON VI.
PSALM xlii. 8. Yet the Lord will
command his loving-kindness in the
day-time, &c 375
SERMON VII.
PSALM cxix. 13. Rivers of waters
run down mine eyes, because they
keep not thy law, 381
SERMON VIII.
CANT. i. 3. Because of the savour
of thy good ointments, thy name is
as ointment poured forth, therefore
flo the virgins love thee, 387
Page
SERMON IX.
ROM. viii. 7- Because the carnal
mind is enmity against God, &c. 393
SERMON X.
ROM. xiii. 5 — 8. Wherefore ye must
needs be subject, not only for wrath,
but also for conscience' sake, 396
SERMON XL
PSALM Ixxvi. 10. Surely the wrath of
man shall praise thee : the remainder
of wrath shall thou restrain, ; 402
SERMON XII.
PSALM cxii. 7« He shall not be afraid
of evil tidings ; his heart is fixed,
trusting in the Lord, 407
SERMON XIII.
MATT. xiii. 3. And lie spake many
things unto them in parables, say-
ing, Behold a sower went forth to
sow, &c 412
SERMON XIV.
2 COB. vii. 1. Having therefore these
promises, dearly beloved, &c 415
SERMON XV.
PSALM cxix. 32. I will run the way
of thy commandments, when thou
shalt enlarge my heart, 418
SERMON XVI.
ROM. viii. 33, 34. Who shall lay
any thing to the charge of God's
elect? &c 422
SERMON XVII.
ROM. viii. 35. Who shall separate us
from the love of Christ ? &c 425
SERMON XVIII.
ISAIAH lix. 1, 2. Behold, the Lord's
hand is not shortened that it cannot
save, &c 426
Exposition of the Creed, 433
Exposition of the Lord's Prayer, 447
Exposition of the Ten Commandments, 474
Of Precept 1 477
Precept II 480
Precept III 482
Precept IV 484
Precept V 486
Precept VI 488
Prerept VIT 480
CONTENTS.
Page
Of Precept VIII... 491
Precept IX 494
Precept X 496
A Discourse on Matthew xxii. 37 — 39. .499
A Discourse on Hebrews viii. 10 ~502
A Short Catechism, 505
TEN SERMONS, FROM THE AUTHOR'S
MANUSCRIPTS.
SERMON I.
ROM. xiii. 11 — 14. And that know-
ing the time, that now it is high
time to awake out of sleep, &c 507
SERMON II.
PSALM cvii. 43. Whoso is wise, and
will observe these things, &c 511
SERMON III.
PSALM cxix. 96. I have seen an end
of all perfection ; but thy command-
ment is exceeding broad, 516
SERMON IV.
HAB. iii. 17, 18. Although the fig-
tree shall not blossom, &c 520
SERMON V.
1 COR. i. 30. But of him are ye in
Christ Jesus, &c. 524
SERMON VI.
JER. x. 23, 24. O Lord, I know that
the way of man is not in himself, &C...530
SERMON VII.
ISA. xxx. 15 — 19. For thus saith the
Lord God, the holy One of Israel,
In returning and rest shall ye be
saved. &c 534
SERMON VIII.
JER. xiv. 7 — 9. O Lord, though our
iniquities testify against us, do thou
it for thy name's sake, &c 539
SERMON IX.
LUKE xiii. 1 — 10. There were pre-
sent at that season some that told
him of the Galileans, whose blood
Pilate had mingled with their sacri-
fices, &c 544
SERMON X.
Preached before the Parliament, I4lh
Nov. 1669.
JOHN xxi. 22. What is that to thee ?
Follow thou me, 547
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
I The Introduction, 553
II. Of Happiness, its Name and Nature,
and the Desire of it implanted in
the Human Heart, 555
Lect 1>ae«
III. Of the Happiness ot Man, and
that it is really to be found, 557
IV. In which it is proved that Human
Felicity cannot be found either in
the Earth or Earthly Things, 559
V. Of the Immortality of the Soul,... ...562
VI. Of the Happiness of the Life to come, 565
VII. Of the Being of God...... 567
VIII. Of the Worship of God, Provi-
dence, and the Law given to Man, 57'2
IX. Of the Pleasures and Utility of
Religion, 5?4
X. Of the Decrees of God, 575
XI. Of the Creation of the World,. 577
XII. Of the Creation of Man, 581
XIII. Of Divine Providence, 584
XIV. Of Christ the Saviour, 587
XV. Of Regeneration, 589
XVI. Of Regeneration, 593
XVII. Of True Felicity and Eternal
Punishment, 596
XVIII. Of the Christian Religion, and
that it is the true Way to Happi-
ness, 599
XIX. That Holiness is the only Way
to Happiness on this Earth, 601
XX. Of our Happiness, particularly
that it is in God, who can direct
us to the true Way of attaining it ;
that this Way he has discovered
in the Sacred Scriptures, the di-
vine Authority whereof is asserted
and illustrated, 603
XXI. Of the Divine Attributes, 608
XXII. How to regulate Life according
to the Rules of Religion, 609
XXIII. Of Purity of Life, 611
XXIV. Before the Communion, 613
An Exhortation to the Students upon
their return to the University after
the Vacation, 616
Exhortations to the Candidates for the
Degree of Master of Arts in the
University of Edinburgh, 619
EXHORTATION 1 621
II 623
III 624
IV 626
V 62J!
VI 629
VII 631
VIII 633
Valedictory Oration, 635
A Defence of Moderate Episcopacy, 337
MEDITATIONS, CRITICAL AND PRACTI-
CAL, ON PSALMS iv. xxxii. and cxxx.
ON PSALM iv 643
— PSALM xxxii 652
— PSALM cxxx 65fi
A Sermon to the Clergy, from 2 COR. v
20, not before published in any for-
mer Collection, 673
Several Letters on various Subjects, 681-687
LIFE
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.
IN an age when the study of Theology was the universal and lead-
ing pursuit, and amounted almost to a passion, ROBERT LEIGHTON
was a pre-eminent Theologian ; not so much from his acquirements in
that species of Literature, in which, however, he was deeply skilled, as
from the delightful example he exhibited in his life and writings, of a
religion he cordially believed, and as far as his apprehensions extend-
ed, faithfully copied. He was not free in his conduct from the errors of
humanity, but he was one of the very few, who err on the lovelier side;
his amiability of temper, and purity of principle, led him to carry,
among men of sterner stuff, the proposals of Charity which he professed,
farther than either accorded with the situation he held, the rights that
were in peril, or the temper of the times. It therefore happened to
him, as must happen to all placed in similar circumstances, that his
character was viewed by his contemporaries in extremes ; and as pos-
terity do not easily get rid of the feelings of their ancestors, it has
even in our own days been looked at in very different lights.
Men have no right to visit the sins of the fathers upon the children,
yet it is no indefensible propensity to esteem the seed of the righteous,
to feel grief for them when they leave the paths of their progenitors,
and if they have descended from persecuted parents, and join their per-
secutors, to address them as the prophet did Jehoshaphat, " Shouldst
thou help the ungodly, and love them that hate the Lord ? therefore
there is wrath upon thee from before the Lord : nevertheless there
are good things found about thee."
That such sentiments should have been entertained, respecting the
subject of this memoir, by many excellent men in Scotland, will not
appear strange when the cruel infliction his father Dr Alexander Leigh-
ton underwent is considered ; and however his own mind might have
felt justified in the change, it was not to be expected that Presbyterians,
who were themselves suffering for the same cause, which they were
fully persuaded was for righteousness" sake, could be easily convinced
of the strength of those reasons, that influenced the son of such a
father, to leave their ranks, and join their opponents.
Dr Alexander Leighton was descended, it is said, of an ancient
family in Fortarshire, whose chief seat was Ulys-haven, or Usen, but
LIFE OF
it
the fact is as obscure as it is unimportant ; it is certain that he was one
of the numerous host of confessors who bore testimony against the
enormous abuseof Prelatic power in hisday, and suffered severely for ,t.
A^vas not uncommon in these times of persecution, although a mi-
nister of the Gospel, he had also studied medicine, and a terwarda
practised it in London during the reign of James I and early in that
of Charles I. where he also exercised his ministry, but whether to any
stated congregation does not appear. Warmly attached to 1 resby-
terian principles, he took part in the violent and dangerous contro-
versies then agitating England, and published a work entitled, "An
T* i* t_ r7!__~"*« I>1,,., .,,,-., i i i.'f 4-Vio t*i*oltii'»if> • \^ l\&
Appeal to the Pailiament, or Zion's Plea against 1
summe whereof is delivered in a Decade of Positions. In the hand-
ling whereof the Lord Bishops and their appurtenances are manifestly
proved, both by divine and humane lawes, to be intruders upon the
previledges of Christ, of the King, and of the Commonweal : and
therefore upon good evidence given, she hartelie desireth a judgment
and execution — printed in the year and moneth wherein Rochelle was
lost, 1628." The style of the book is in perfect accordance with what
unhappilyisthegeneralstyleof polemics, and suchaswe have seen exem-
plified, even in our own day, when men allow their passions to inter-
mingle M'ith their controversies : yet it was not more virulent, if it
was as much so, as many of those which appeared on the opposite side.
For this work he was brought to trial, and the arguments of the
book, which plainly proved that an overgrown, ambitious, and tyranni-
cal prelacy, was not the ministry appointed by Christ in his church,
were it seems aggravated by the imprint, as marking his dissatisfaction
to government, — it being the general belief, that if England had in-
terfered in behalf of the French Protestants, Rochelle would have been
saved from the hands of the Papists ; and by the book being also de-
corated, according to the fashion of the day, with two hieroglyphical
cuts explanatory of the subject, the first a burning lamp, supported
by a book and two armed men guarding it ; the legend, not remark-
ably elegant, explained the meaning:
Prevailing prelats strive to quench our light,
Except your sacred power quash their might.
The other represented an elder bush growing out of a ruinous to\ver,
from whose branches a parcel of bishops were tumbling, one of them
with a strong box in his hand,— the legend,
The tottering prelates with their trumpery all,
Shall moulder down like elder from a wall.
These, which were grating subjects in the days of Charles to the
members of the English Hierarchy, and not over pleasant in the days
of George IV. * will scarcely be deemed any palliation of the conduct
the btar Chamber, in their treatment of the author, even although
it was under the influence of the Bishops.
of ***' °* Archbishop ^g*1'011* P^fixed to the last London edition
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTO.V. 511
lie was arrested early in 1629, hurried to a wretched cell in New-
gate, low, damp, and without light, except what was admitted, along
with the rain, from an aperture in the root', overrun with rats and other
vermin. Here he lay from Tuesday night till Thursday at noon, with-
out food, and for fourteen days endured solitary confinement in this
miserable hole ; while his house, in his absence, was rifled, his books
destroyed, and his papers carried off. After sixteen weeks1 captivity, he
was served with an information of the crimes with which lie was charg-
ed, but he was sick and unable to attend, and from the nature of his
disorder, a fitter object of compassion than punishment, for the skin
and hair had almost wholly come off* his body.
Yet though thus afflicted, this aged, infirm divine, was condemned to
a punishment the stoutest ruffian could hardly have endured, which
some of the lords of court conceived could never be inflicted on a dying
man, and was only held out as a terror to others : it was — to be de-
graded as a minister, to have his ears cut off, his nose slit, to be brand-
ed in the face, to stand in the pillory, to be whipped at a post, to pay
a fine of L.I 000, and to suffer imprisonment till it was paid ; the which
when Archbishop Laud heard pronounced, he pulled off his hat, and
holding up his hands, gave thanks to God, who had given the church
victory over her enemies !
And it was mercilessly inflicted. On the 29th of November, in a
cold frosty day, he was stripped, and received thirty-six lashes with a
trible cord, after which he stood during a snow-storm two hours half-
naked on the pillory at Westminster, was branded on one cheek with
a red-hot iron, had one ear cut off, and one side of his nose slit : On
that day se^nnight, ere his sores were healed, he was taken to the
pillory in Cheapside, and underwent the remainder of his sen'ence.
He was then carried back to prison, and shut in for upwards of ten
years until the meeting of the Long Parliament : when released from
his miserable confinement, he could hardly walk, see, or hear. The
Parliament reversed all the proceedings against him, and voted him
six thousand pounds for his great sufferings and damages, and in
1642 gave him an appointment. He died about 1649-
Dr Leighton had two sons, the eldest Robert, the second Elisha ;
and two daughters, the eldest Sapphira, the other Mrs Rathband, of
whom nothing more is known. ROBERT was born in the year 1611,
in London, according to the account of the late Rev. G. Jerment, his
first regular biographer, to whose labours succeeding writers of his life
have been under great, though rather unacknowledged obligations ;
and Dr Burnet tells us, " he was sent to his father to be bred in Scot-
land." The year when he was sent thither, or how his education was
conducted till he became a student in the university of Edinburgh in
1627, forms a blank in his life, which cannot now be filled up. He at-
tended the different classes till 1631, when he took the degree of Master of
Arts ; and it deserves to be noticed, that the professors during that pe-
riod were chiefly men who were attached to the mongrel, semi-episco-
pal, semi-presbyterian latitudinarianism, which was the court religion
of the time in Scotland. He had early imbibed a decided aversion for
1T LIFE OF
the whole frame of the Church of England— and no wonder ! but the
mixed system of Episcopacy then taught in the Scottish school, which
allowed of a Synod of Presbyters with a permanent presiding Bishop,
similar to what Mosheim thinks was early introduced into the Chris-
tian church, appears to have been the pivot on which his young mind
rested the balance between the opposing systems, for it does not
appear he had then decided. The circumstances of his family not per-
mitting him to apply to the ecclesiastical courts for license, he went
abroad.
Burnet, to whose brief notices we are chiefly indebted for any ac-
count of young Leighton, says, " From Scotland his father sent him to
travel." How his father, who was previously immured in his miser-
able habitation, found the means to do so, we are left to conjecture.
He travelled several years in France, and resided some time at Douay,
where he had relatives ; he is here reported or supposed to have fallen
in with some religionists, " whose lives were framed on the strictest
model of primitive piety ;" but as in his writings he has repeatedly de-
clared his opinion to be, that the Church of Rome is utterly antichris-
tian, it is not at all probable, that the practice of the monks there
had much, if any, influence in abating his veneration for the " presby-
terian platform;" at least, he embraced the first opportunity of return-
ing to Scotland, and accepting a presbyterian charge.
During his absence on the continent, a series of events had taken
place in Scotland, that had entirely overturned the Pseudo-prelacy,
which he had left in power, and covenanted Presbyterianism, in the
strictest sense that it ever was professed, was established instead, by
the laws of the land, and in the affections of the people. Leighton
was a man of peace, and when the struggle was at its height, he did
not choose to mingle in the fray, but when the religious community
were rejoicing in the acquisition of their freedom, and their favourite
form of church-government, he came home to swell the triumph,
and enjoy the gale. Accordingly on his return to Scotland, having been
unanimously called by the congregation of Newbottle, a parish in the
presbytery of Dalkeith, after passing through the usual course of trial
for the ministry to the great satisfaction of his judges, he was ordained
there on the 16th of December 1641, being tlien in the thirtieth year
of his age. The parish is delightfully situated on the banks of the
Esk, among whose romantic scenery Leighton could enjoy the re-
tirement he so much loved and the residence of the Earl of Lothian
in the Abbey within his bounds, a nobleman attached to the cause of
religion, in whose family he might cultivate the advantages of elevat-
ed society, would add considerably to its charms. To the manner
in which he filled the duties of a parochial minister, perhay s the ob-
scurity in which this is involved may be considered the highest tes-
timony. A person who afterwards arrived at such distinguished emi-
nence in such turbulent times, must have acted with more than or-
dinary diligence and circumspection, to have escaped blame, from
such critical scrutinizers as he was exposed to. These duties were
what men of modern times would shrink from, for they were the
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. t
entire business of a minister's life, what the word of God and Ibe
rules of his church enjoined, what his people expected, and what
l.is co-presbyters practised themselves, and enforced on their brethren.
Besides the services of the Sabbath, there were usually one or more
lectures or sermons preached during the week ; the parishioners were
regularly visited from house to house, the whole as punctually examin-
ed, particularly the young, the instruction of whom it was an important
part of the ministerial function to superintend ; both by inspecting the
schools, and inquiring into their progress in religious and useful learn-
ing, and by their visitations at their homes to watch over their moral
training a species of education, the last especially, the fruits of which
were abundantly manifest in the next generation, which was destined
to bear the fiery trial of a twenty-eight years furnace. Leighton, whose
delight was in his work, it may be easily imagined, would not abridge
any of these necessary duties ; and all his biographers concur in stat-
ing, that he was most assiduous in discharging the various branches of
his sacred office. " He diligently visited the poor of the flock,
was ever to be found in the chambers of the afflicted, and at the beds
of the sick or the dying. He promoted personal, domestic, social, and
public relig on, to the 'tvnost of his power, by precept, example, and
prayer." — One solitary anecdote remains of this interval.
It was, it seems, the practice of the Presbytery, to inquire of their
members twice a-year, whether they preached to the times ? that is,
whether they improved the serious and alarming circumstances by which
they were surrounded, and at a period when the pulpit was almost
the only medium through which the people could be informed of the
state of public affairs, — directed in the duty which they were required
to pursue, — whether the ministers acted as faithful watchmen ? Leigh-
ton acknowledged the omission, but adroitly apologized for it, by say-
ing, " If all the brethren have preached to the times, may not one
poor brother be allowed to preach for eternity ?" a question which, had
his co-presbyters been the zealots of a party, would have been re-
ceived by any thing but approbation. And it is exceedingly doubtful,
in times of dread import, like those in which he lived, or such for in-
stance as the present, [1831,] when the wheels of Providence seem
moving onward with accelerated motion, laden with events to
which the mysterious voice of Prophecy calls our attention, — it seems
more than doubtful whether the ministers of God are not liable to the
rebuke, " Ye can discern the face of the heavens, but can ye not dis-
cern the signs of the times ?" when they keep silence, and do not
" preach to the times.11
Two very different testimonies respecting the nature of Leighton's
pulpit oratory have come down to us. " His preaching," says Burnet,
" had a sublimity both of thought and expression in it. The grace
and gravity of his pronunciation was such, that few heard him with-
out a sensible emotion. I am sure I never did. His style was rather
too fine, but there was a majesty and beauty in it, that left so deep an
impression, that I cannot yet forget the sermon I heard him preach
thirty years ago. And yet with this he seemed to look on himself as
.=0 ordinary a preacher that while he had a cure, he was ready to em-
LIFE OF
Dlov all others ; and when he was a Bishop, he chose to preach to smaU
auditories, and would never give notice beforehand ; he had indeed
i very low voice, and so could not be heard by a great crowd.
Baillie, in speaking of Andrew Gray, one of the most extraordinary
young ministers that has appeared in the Church of Scot and whose
memory is yet fresh in the west, and whose sermons, published under
every possible disadvantage, evince that it deserves to be so, thus
obliuuely gives the opinion he and his moderate brethren held ot Leigh-
ton^ ministerial instructions : " He has the new guise of preaching,
which Mr Hugh Binning and Mr Robert Leighton began, containing
the ordinary way of expounding and dividing a text, of raising doc-
trines and uses ; but runs out a discourse on some common head, in a
high romancing and inscriptural style, tickling the ear for the present,
and moving the affections in some, but leaving little or nought to the
memory and understanding."
That Gray and Binning were amazingly popular, is well attested ;
that Leighton deserved to be equally or more so, will appear evident
from a comparison of the remains they have left behind them ; for
all have left written specimens of their sermons, and respecting the
merit of our author's we shall afterwards speak. But those only
who heard the living preachers could tell us of their eloquence :
They who know — and what clown does not know ? — the power
of the keen language of the eye, the emphasis of countenance, the
varied tone and energy of voice, even the influence of grave ap-
propriate action, can note the difference between the living and
the dead. In the Church of Scotland when in her glory, reading
was unknown, and would not have been tolerated : the ministers
were too much alive to the importance of their subjects to waste much
time upon the " conning of nice phrases," and depended more upon
the vigour than the polish of their language; yet were they not in-
elegant or careless, as the posthumous works of all these eminent
three bear ample evidence : — but their usual method appears to have
been, first they studied their subject fully, then wrote a few notes, in
modern terms made a skeleton of their discourse, and left the filling
\ip to the fulness of their heart at the time of the delivery. This ap-
pears to have been the case especially with Andrew Gray, but in some
instances the sermons appear to have been fully written out, although
not slavishly delivered, as in the case of Hugh Binning. And it is a
curious fact, that the whole of Durham's elaborate Commentary on the
Revelations, forming a folio volume, containing many calculations,
and several profound disquisitions, was delivered without having been
committed to paper, but taken down as he delivered it, was copied
out afterwards, and brought to himself for correction, except a very
few of the last sheets. Indeed, it appears strange, that the reading of
sermons should ever have found practitioners or advocates, except
among the indolent or imbecile ; and I apprehend with scarcely an
exception it will be found, that either want of capacity or want of dili-
gence is at the root of the practice, and in either case, such a person
ought not to be a public speaker. Where God has withheld the
talents for public speaking from a man, it needs no revelation to teli
ARCHBISHOP LEIGH TOX. vii
us that that man was never intended for a public speaker. If God have
oestowed the talents, and he refuse to cultivate them, it is as clear that
that man is unworthy of exercising the office of a Gospel minister.
If, after a man has been duly called to his office, and if, after having
exercised it faithfully, it has pleased the inscrutable wisdom of Heaven
to deprive him of any of his faculties, it becomes then a question
whether he ought to retire. And if this be impossible or improper,
say that merely memory has failed, and there be no funds for his sup-
port, and his people be unwilling to dispense with his services ; the
case is altered — let him read. But I believe it will in general be
found in the cases of conversion, that often comparatively weak dis-
courses have been blessed, while the most elaborately composed dis-
courses, and the most beautifully read, have been merely listened to
as elegant essays, or praised as the lovely works of art. And it is na-
tural that it should be so ; God is the God of means, as well as of grace,
and he has appointed the living voice, the "foolishness of preaching"
whereby to save them that believe ; and HIS approbation, not the ap-
plause of elegant or crowded auditories, uight to be the grand end and
aim of a minister. Leighton was an enemy to reading. " I know,"" he
said, " that weakness of memory is pleaded in excuse for this custom, but
better minds would make better memories. Such an excuse is unworthy
of a man, and much more of a father, who may want vent indeed in
addressing his children, but ought never to want matter : — Like Elihu,
he should be refreshed by speaking.11
If the remark hold true of private, as of public affairs, that the years
which afford fewest materials for the historian, are generally those
that have been the happiest, the years which Leighton spent at New-
bottle must have been among the most pleasant of his life ; but to-
M'ards their close, the political state of the country invaded even his
peaceful retirement. It is well known that the troubles of Scotland,
from the Reformation till the final expulsion of the Stuarts, arose
from contests for religious and civil liberty on the part of the people,
and for priestly power and absolute despotism on the part of the
Crown. By treachery and deceit, the British Solomon, styled King-
craft, James the I. had during a long reign attempted, and nearly
accomplished, the overthrow of the constitution of his native land, —
the task of completing the destruction of his people's rights, he left
as a legacy to his son ; this Charles rashly endeavoured to accomplish,
while his hands were fully occupied with his English subjects, and.
by introducing the liturgy among a people who detested it, he put
the match to a train that lay ready for explosion, — the consequence
was, that after an idle parade of royal weakness, when opposed to tha
universal wish of a people, he was forced to give a free and fair con-
stitution, securing the rights of his subjects from princely or prelnti<-
invasion. Of this constitution the Covenant was the cause, and on
every infringement, it was renewed a? the guaiantee ; in it the
Kins; and People swore to the performance of their various duties,
and among others, to preserve the religion as then established, and
to resist all innovations tending to re-introduce the prelacy.
A multiplication of oaths to men in public life, besides being one of
viii LIFE OF
the slenderest of all ties to unprincipled men, is one of the worst in
Christian nations, as it uniformly involves them in varied and multi-
plied iniquity ; it distresses binds, and debilitates the minds of the
conscientious, while it is frail as Sampson's green withs to the sturdy
politician. But if ever there was a time, when a solemn declaration
of principles^ and an explicit promise or vow to observe them, were
called for, it was just about the period when Leighton entered upon
the pastoral office at Newbottle; and I think it plain from his own
writings, that he conscientiously viewed the Covenant in this light, and
subscribed it at his ordination without scruple. Had Charles I been
sincere when he ratified the acts of the Scottish Parliament, he might
have reigned a powerful monarch, and died a better man ; but his du-
plicity led to the great civil war, and forced Scotland and England to
join together for mutual preservation from threatened tyranny. They
did so, in an agreement known by the name of the Solemn League
and Covenant, in which they pledged themselves to endeavour uni-
formity in religion according to the word of God, and the extirpation
of Prelacy ; and this, in the form of an oath, was forced upon almost
every inhabitant of Scotland. But it deserves especial notice, that the
zealots who were most forward in pressing this oath, were the political
presbyterians, men whose exuberance of fire, like that of all violent
partizans, was exactly in proportion to their lack of principle ; and
they who were then the chief instruments of covenanting oppression,
were the very persons who turned apostates, and were the chief instru-
ments of Prelatical persecution.
Leighton, whose aversion to the lordly pomp of the English Hie-
rarchy was undoubtedly as sincere as it was well founded, unhesitating-
ly subscribed this bond himself, and afterwards administered it to the
students in Edinburgh University. And he thus explains the reason of
his facility : " for it would be noted, that when the Covenant was
framed, there was no Episcopacy at all in being in Scotland, but in
England only, so that the extirpation of that frame only could then
be merely intended." It may be difficult, however, to exculpate him
from the error of having first vowed and then made inquiry ; nor,
when he attempts it himself, is he very successful, — but great allow-
ance must be made for the gentleness of his natural disposition, and his
most amiable desire for peace, especially when his whole life evinced
that he was neither actuated by motives of covetousness or ambition ;
and whether we agree with him or not, we must agree, that as his
life was holy, there can be little doubt but his motives were pure.
Let us however hear himself, though in this case he appears to have
lost something of his sweetness of temper.
« The truth is, that besides many other evils, the iniquity and un-
nappmess of such oaths and covenants lie much in this, that, being
commonly framed by persons, that even amongst themselves are not
.illy of one mind, but have their different opinions and interests to
serve,— and it was so even in this,— they commonly patched up so
many several articles and clauses, and these too of so versatile and
ambiguous terms, that they prove most wretched snares, and thickets
mars and thorns to the consciences of those who are engaged in
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTOX. ix
them, and matter of endless contentions and disputes amongst them,
about the true sense and intendment, and the ties and obligations of
those doubtful clauses, especially in such alterations and revolutions
of affairs, as always may, and often do, even within few years, follow
after them, for the models and productions of such devices are not
usually long-lived. And whatsoever may be said for their excuse, in
•whole or in part, who, in yielding to the power that pressed it, and
the general opinion of this Church at that time, did take that cove-
nant in the most moderate and least schismatical sense that the terms
can admit ; yet I know not what can be said to clear them of a very
great sin, that not only framed such an engine, but violently imposed
it upon all ranks of men, not ministers and public persons only, but
the whole body and community of the people, thereby engaging such
droves of poor ignorant persons, to they knew not what ; and, to
speak freely, to such a hodge-podge of things of various concernments,
religious and civil, as church discipline and government, the privileges
of Parliaments, and liberties of subjects, and condign punishment of
malignants, things hard enough for the wisest and learnedest to draw
the just lines of, and to give plain definitions and decisions of them,
and therefore certainly as far off from the reach of poor country peo-
pled understanding, as from the true interest of their souls, and yet
to tie them by a religious oath, either to know all, or to contend for
them blindfold, without knowing of them."
These sentiments are contained in his " modest defence of moderate
Episcopacy," written after he was a bishop, and considering the cause
he had to defend, might pass without much observation, although, if
carried their proper length, they would exclude the people from any
voice in the choice or conduct of their rulers, civil and ecclesiastical, and
lead to the quietude of a settled despotism in the Church and State.
But it is a painful example of how far partiality for a side, or the sup-
posed necessity of advocating a bad cause, may carry a good man,
when we hear him in the next sentence asking, " Where will be in-
stanced a greater oppression and tyranny over consciences than this ?"
and replying, " Certainly ihey that now govern in this Church, can-
.not be charged with anything near or like unto it, for whatsoever
they require of intrants to the ministry, they require neither subscrip-
tions nor oaths of ministers already entered, and far less of the whole
body of the people." Yet at this very time, had the whole ministry
been required to acknowledge the royal supremacy in matters ecclesi-
astical, and own a power in the church, which they understood to be
subversive of that of her Head and King : still there is no divine more
clear upon the character of Christ, as the sole la\rgiver and ruler of
his people, than our author.
While Leighton's mind was hurt by the manner in which the So-
lemn League and Covenant was pressed, he naturally associated with
those whose sentiments on this subject accorded with his own. Among
them was the father of Dr Gilbert Burnet, of the Episcopalian per-
suasion, and particularly attached to the Hamilton family, with whose
fortunes Leighton had almost associated his own. — After the providence
of God had declared against Charles, and he was a captive in the
LIFE OF
hands of his opponents, still he might have returned to his throne
with honour, could he have submitted to be honest, but he wished to
le-ascend it uncontrouled, and played a double game, that led him to
the scaffold. Unfortunately the Duke of Hamilton was induced to
second his efforts, by breaking the Solemn League and Covenant
with England, and entering unto an Engagement with the captive
monarch. This engagement, — which, if successful, would have laid
the kingdoms prostrate at the feet of an incensed sovereign, who would
give them no security for all they had been fighting for, except " the
word of a Prince," and that had been forfeited at least a score of
times, — divided Scotland ; part resolving to maintain the Covenant,
and part entering into the engagement. Among those who favoured
the last, were all who had any leaning towards episcopacy, and
Leighton, who had hitherto kept aloof from the politics of the day,
was most unfortunately induced by his new associates, to declare in
favour of an Engagement, the terms of which were not fully known
at the time, and which we would in charity hope were misrepresented
to him, as they were to others : like every effort in favour of the un-
happy Charles, the project failed, and involved himself and his adhe-
rents in deeper ruin.
The high character of Leighton, and the friendship of the Earl of
Lothian, saved him from any very serious consequences of his con-
duct, while the dominant party showed their liberality, by sparing so
conspicuous an opponent from any other punishment than appointing
him to rebuke those of his parishioners who had accompanied the Duke
in his disastrous expedition. There is more of policy than of godly
simplicity in the manner in which he extricated himself from a dilemma
that could not fail of being extremely irksome to an ingenuous mind ;
and when parties run so high, and the times were so perilous, it says
a great deal for the forbearance of the Presbytery, that such an eva-
sion of their injunctions was overlooked. When the parties ordered
to make public profession of their repentance came before him, he
told them they had been in an expedition in which he believed they
had neglected their duty to God ; and had been guilty of injustice
and violence, of drunkenness and other immoralities, and he charged
them to repent of these very seriously, without meddling with the
quarrel or the ground of that war. This lesson seems to have cured
Leighton of meddling with politics, as we hear no more upon this head
till after the restoration ; but from the slight notices in Baillie's Letters,
it would appear that he associated with the high-flyers in the Church,
who were evangelical in their preaching, and suspected of favouring
the sectaries, a predilection which naturally arose from the inferior weight
he gave to differences upon matters of church-government when put in
competition with personal piety ; and perhaps his laxness on that point,
might be not a little increased by observing the pertinacity with which
many contended for the form, who cared very little about the power of
godliness, who were more anxious about the cut of their vestments than
the conduct of their lives. The numerous sects, and varieties of opinion,
which sprung up at this time, grievously unhinged men's minds on these
subjects, and the bitterness with which the sections of the same party
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. xi
often treated each other, made the quiet of the land wish for the wings
of the dove, that they might fly thence and be at rest.
From whatsoever cause, in the year 1652, after the arrival of the
second Charles among the Scots had raised their dissensions to a height,
and brought their affairs to a crisis, and when his defeat had strength-
ened the distractions in the church, and spread a wider desolation in
the country, Leighton tendered his resignation to the Presbytery ;
this they declined accepting, and he was persuaded to remain ; but
when there appeared little prospect of settlement among the divided
Presbyterians, and increasing bitterness of spirit between those who
wished and prayed for the restoration of their King, and those who
deprecated such an event from the specimen they had already receiv-
ed of his conduct and disposition, he again renewed his request, and
on the 3d February 1653, was released from his ministerial connec-
tion with Newbottle, after having laboured eleven years diligently
among them.
Nothing tries a man's principles better than touching his purse, and
were we to judge from the conduct of many who bear the name of Chris-
tian, we should be apt to imagine that the injunction, " Love not the
world, nor the things of the world,1'1 ought to be inverted ; but wisdom is
Justified of her children, and sometimes there do appear men, whose
actions corresponding to their profession, evince, that setting the af-
fections on things that are above, and not on things below, is, though
a rare, yet a real attainment. Leighton was one ; and a circumstance
occurred about this time, which places his estimate of the uncertain
riches of time, in a striking point of view, and which, although it
possesses an appearance of carelessness, and might possibly mark
him out as a fit prey for pecuniary plunderers, was not by himself
looked back upon during his life with much pain ; and that he got so
far above the world before he got out of it, will not be now to his
holy spirit any cause of regret.
His father, who had acquired some property after his sufferings,
having died, left him about one thousand pounds : this, which was all
his -patrimony, his brother-in-law Mr Lightmaker, had advised him
to come to London, and get placed in proper security. He answered :
" Sir, — I thank you for your letter. That you gave me notice of, I
desire to consider as becomes a Christian, and to prepare to wait for
my own removal. What business follows upon my father's [death,]
may be \vell enough done without me, as I have writ more at large
to Mr E , and desired him to show you the letter when you meet.
Any pittance belonging to me may possibly be useful and needful for
my subsistence, but truly if something else draw me not, I shall never
bestow so long a journey on that I account so mean a business. Re-
member my love to iny sister, your wife, and to my brother and sister
Rathband, as you have opportunity. I am glad to hear of the wel-
fare of you all, and above all things wish for myself and you all, our
daily increase in likeness to Jesus Christ, and growing heavenwards
where he is, who is our treasure. To his grace I recommend you.
Sir, your affectionate brother, R. Leighton." Dated December 31 st
1 649- Before a month had elapsed, he had occasion to acknowledge
LIFE OF
the propriety of his brother* advice, for the merchant in whose hands
Ihe money was placed became bankrupt, and he lost all. In another
letter to the same gentleman, which is subjoined, his Christian temper
is remarkably evident: he owns his error, and is sensible of his loss,
but as his heart was not with the treasure that had perished, he was
not affected beyond what a Christian ought. " Sir,— \ our kind advice
I cannot but thank you for, but I am not easily taught that lesson.
I confess it is the wiser way to trust nobody : but there is so much
of the fool in my nature, as carries me to the other extreme, to trust
everybodv. Yet I will endeavour to take the best courses I can in
that "little business you write of. It is true there is a lawful, yea, a
needful diligence in such things ; but alas ! how poor are they to the
portion of believing where our treasure is ! That little that was in
Mr E _ .'8 hands hath tailed me; but I shall either have no need of
it, or be supplied some other way ; and this is the relief of my rolling
thoughts, that while I am writing this, this moment is passing away,
and "all the hazards of want and sickness shall be at an end. My
mother writes to me and presses my coming up. I know not yet if
that can be ; but I intend, God willing, so soon as 1 can conveniently,
if 1 come not, to lake some course that things be done as if I were
there. I hope you will have patience in the mean time. Remember
my love to my sisters. The Lord be with you, and lead you in his
ways. Your loving brother [signed] II. Leighton, dated Nevvbottle,
Feb. 4. 1650."
When the Scottish religious parties could not agree among them-
selves, and each were anxious to obtain an ascendancy, the English
Parliament, now paramount, appointed Sequestrators, with an ample
commission to superintend the setting aside, or planting churches or
universities. These uniformly supported what would now be styled
the Evangelical party, then called the Remonstrants, to which Leigh-
ton had always adhered, although he had differed on the political
question of the Engagement ; and from among these the Sequestrators
filled up all the vacancies that occurred, — for they were men of superior
talents, and generally reported of superior sanctity. And it is here de-
serving especial notice, that the Parliament first, and Cromwell after-
wards, filled the public situations in the church and universities of
Scotland, solely with men of acknowledged abilities and good conduct,
and in the civil courts with Judges of strict integrity and worth.
In the search after persons capable of filling eminent stations, Leigh-
ton was not overlooked ; he was called to the highly responsible office of
Principal in the University of Edinburgh. William Colville, minister
of the Scottish Church at Utrecht, had been previously elected, but as
he was a known enemy to the existing government, he was set aside,
and the magistrates of the. capital, who have always shown a due
submission to the powers that be, joined in presenting Mr Robert
Leighton, " who was prevailed with to accept of it, because in it he
was wholly separated from all church matters." The ministers were joint
patrons, but refused to vote, " because, though they were content with
Mr Robert Leighton, they were not clear in the manner of the call."
This event took place early in 1653, and in the month of July follow-
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. xiii
Ing, the General Assembly was conducted by Lieut-Col. Cotterell, under
a guard of foot-musqueteers and dragoons, a mile beyond Edinburgh,
where they were dismissed and commanded never more to assemble ;
Government conceiving that they assumed a civil power inconsistent
with the peace of the realm. Synods and inferior judicatories were
allowed to meet, but from this time all coercive power was removed
from the church, and she was left to wield her own proper arms. Whe-
ther the English Parliament interfered to enforce the Covenant or not, is
uncertain, though shortly after it was positively forbidden. Leighton,
however, both took it himself, and enforced it upon others during this
period, so that he cannot beconsidered as having withdrawn from Pres-
byterian communion till afterwards, as indeed there was no other form
of religion professed publicly, till the Independents gave » free tolera-
tion to all, when several sects sprung up, to none of whi, h could he,
as Principal of the University, have joined himself.
His labours in this office were abundant. He delivered a theolo-
gical lecture in Latin once a week to the Students, and at stated in-
tervals preached to them in the College Church. These prelections,
which form the 6th vol. of Jerment's Edition of his works, attracted
crowds, who were charmed with the elegance of his style, and the
animation of his delivery. They were translated by Dr Fall, and
will be found in the present volume. He did not however confine his
attention to his public duties; in his private conversation with the
young men, he laboured to form their minds to the practice of virtue,
and his instructions were happily enforced by his own example ; in-
deed, in public or private, religion \vas the vital principle of his soul,
the element in which he breathed.
For eight years Scotland enjoyed under the Commonwealth a de-
gree of prosperity and quiet, such as that country had scarcely ever
known; and Kirkton and other contemporary writers bear testimony
to its being a time, in which religion flourished more than almost at
any period upon record ; and so widely diffused had been the benefits
of common education in the lowlands, particularly the west and the
south, that there was hardly a family which could not read, and which
had not a Bible. For these benefits Scotland had been partly indebt-
ed to the establishment of Parish Schools by the Act 1633, but chiefly
to the assiduity of the parochial Clergy, who had always shown the
deepest interest in the education of the peasantry. The unwearied
pains they took, and the good effects which followed, may be judged
of from the caricature which Bishop Burnet draws of a faithful mi-
nistry, and a godly people, and making the necessary deductions for
his episcopalian prejudices, it in the most material points confirms the
perhaps too flattering picture of Kirkton: " The former incumbents,""
are his words, " were a grave, solemn sort of people ; their spirits were
eager, and their tempers sour ; but they had an appearance that creat-
ed respect. They were related to the chief families in the country
either by blood or marriage, and had lived in so decent a manner that
the gentry paid great respect to them. They used to visit their parish-
es much, and were so full of the Scriptures, and so ready at extempore
prayer, that from that they grew to practise extempore sermons ; for
xiT LIFE OF
the custom in Scotland was, after dinner or supper, to read a chapter
in the Scripture, and where they happened to come, if it was accept-
able, they on the sudden expounded the chapter. They had brought
the people to such a degree of knowledge, that cottagers and servant?
would have prayed extempore. I have often overheard them at it ;
and though there was a large mixture of odd stuff, yet I have been
astonished to hear how copious and ready they were in it. Their
ministers generally brought them about them on the Sunday nights,
when the sermons were talked over ; and every one woman, as well
as man, were desired to speak their sense and their experience, and by
these means they had a comprehension of matters of religion, greater
than I have seen among people of that sort anywhere." " And as they
[the ministers] lived in great familiarity with their people, and used
to pray, and to talk oft with them in private, so it can hardly be im-
agined to what a degree they \vere loved and reverenced by them.
They kept scandalous persons under a severe discipline ; for breach
of Sabbath, for an oath, or the least disorder in drunkenness, persons
were cited before the church-session, that consisted of ten or twelve of
the chief of the parish, who with the minister had this care upon
them, and were solemnly reproved for it." " These things had a grave
appearance, their faults and defects were not so conspicuous." Leigh-
ton, who well knew that the preservation of such a system depended,
humanly speaking, upon the education of the ministers themselves,
and the providing suitable teachers, set himself to promote both these
objects, and he obtained an annuity of £ 200 from the Protector to
aid his beneficent plans, but the death of that great man caused a
universal stagnation of every praiseworthy project, and the restoration
threw the country half a century back in the progress of improvement.
During the vacations he frequently made excursions to London
and to the Continent. In his visits to the Capital he was an occasional
attendant at CromwelFs court, of whose clergymen Burnet makes
him give a very contemptuous character : " they were men of unquiet
and meddling tempers : and their discourses and sermons were dry
and unsavoury, full of airy cant, or of bombast swellings." Had the
Bishop been kind enough to have given the names of these worthies
that he employs the venerated shade of Leighton to stigmatize, it
might have been possible to judge of the justice of the charge, at least
to discriminate, for never did England produce a body of abler divines,
freer from " bombast or swellings," — unless the overflowing of hearts
earnest in the cause of God \vere such, — than what assembled in the
court and enjoyed the countenance of the Protector ; but as a general
charge can only be met by a general answer, I would refer those who
wish to see a fuller account of some of these traduced ministers, to
Ormes Life of Owen, a work which contains a great deal of not com-
mon information respecting the ecclesiastical literature of " the Secta-
ries," among whom were men in whose society Leighton would have
met neither disgust nor degradation.
According to the same authority, however, the Principal found himself
more at home among the Romanists at Douay, and derived much ad-
vantage during his frequent visits to that college, from the pious lives of
ARCHBISHOP LE1GHTON. XT
some of these religionists ; but Leigh ton himself has declared his own
opinion of the Roman Catholic system, and of its opposition to Chris-
tianity in its fundamental articles, distinctly and repeatedly. Now, if
a system be wrong in the foundation, what does it signify how fair
the structure! if a man build on sand, the more precious the materials
of his house, the more terrible the ruin; and if the Roman Catholics
have, as Leighton affirms, [vide remarks on 1 Peter, chap. ii. ver. 6.]
despised that stone which God hath made the head of the corner,
would any of the Lord's people wish to take a pattern from their mode
of moulding for polishing other living stones of their temple ! The
Romish system is designated in scripture, Mystery, Babylon, the mo-
ther of abominations ; and instead of learning from her children, the
command is, " Come out from among them, be ye separated from
them ; come out of her, that ye be not partakers of her plagues."
With regard to monkish seclusion, to which some of his friends allege
he was partial, he thus speaks: " This is amongst many others a miscon-
ceit in the Romish Church, that they seem to make holiness a kind of
impropriate good, that the common sort can have little share in almost
all piety, being shut up within cloister walls as its only n't dwelling.
Yet it hath not liked their lodging it seems, but is flown over
the walls away from them, for there is little of it even there to be
found ; but however, their opinion places it there as having little
to do abroad in the world, whereas the truth is, that all Christians
have this for their common task, though some are under more peculiar
obligations, [alluding to ministers] to study this one copy." — Remarks
on 1 Peter iii. 13.
I should not have said so much on a subject in which our author
is so explicit, had it not been that some of his former biographers
seemed anxious to exalt the papists at the expense of the Presbyterians
and Independents, by representing the amiable prelate as deriving so
much advantage from his intercourse with them, while he was forced
almost to flee the world, to get rid of the contention and bombast of
the others.
It is not mentioned to whom the following letter was addressed,
written, while he was principal, but it throws some lighten the estima-
tion in which he held that species of learning so much esteemed among
Roman Catholics: " Meanwhile I think I have at a venture given up
with the contemptible desires and designs of this present world, and
must have something beyond them all, or nothing at all : and though
this po£&S{o<r* UAH, this base clod of earth I carry, still depresses me,
I am glad that even because it does so I loath and despise it : and
would say, Major sum et ad majora genitus, quam ut mancipium sim
vilis corpusculi ; I am greater, and born to greater things, than to be
the slave of a vile body. I have sent you two little pieces of history,
wherein it may be you will find small relish, but the hazard is small ;
and however, I pray you do not send them back to me at all, for I
have enow of that kind ; the one is from a good pen, and an acquaint-
ance and friend of yours, Paulus Nolanus, and his life of Martin
Tour I think you will relish, and I think it is not in your Vitoe Pa-
trum : the other, Valerius Maximus, I conceived would cloy you the
xvi LIFE OF
less, because it is of so much variety of selected examples, and the
stages are so short, you may begin and leave off where you will with-
out wearying. But when all is done, there is one only blessed story
wherein our souls must dwell, and take up their rest : for amongst
all the rest we shall not read, Venite ad me, omnes lassi et laoorantes,
et ego vobis requiem prestabo : — come unto me, all ye that labour and
are heavy laden, and I shall give you rest * and never any yet that
tried him but found him as good as his word : to whose sweet em-
braces I recommend you, and desire to meet you there."
At this time in Scotland, as at all times when a form and profession
of religion is fashionable, a number of formalists and hypocrites min-
gled in the crowd, and as hollow vessels sound loudest, they were
generally the most noisy. To such as these Leighton seems to allude
in the following epistle, supposed to have been \vritten much about
the same time.
" Sir, — Oh what a weariness is it to live among men, and find so
few men, and among Christians, and find so few Christians^ so much
talk, ana so little action, religion turned almost to a tune and air
of words ; and amidst all our pretty discourses, pusillanimous and
base, and so easily dragged into the mire, self, and flesh, and pride,
and passion, domineering while we speak of being in Christ and cloth-
ed with him, and believe it, because we speak it so often, and so con-
fidently. Well I know you are not willing to be thus gulled, and
having some glances of the beauty of holiness, aim no lower than per-
fection, which in end we hope to attain, and in the meanwhile the
smallest advances to it are more worth than crowns and sceptres. I
believe it you often think on these words of the blessed champion
Paul, 1 Cor. ix 24, " Know ye not that they which run in a race
run all, but one receiveth the prize ? so run that ye may obtain.
And every man that striveth for the mastery is temperate in all things:
now, they do it to obtain a corruptible crown, we an incorruptible. I
therefore so run, not as uncertainly : so fight I, not as one that
beateth the air, but I keep under my body and bring it into subjec-
tion, lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I my-
self should be a cast-away ."" There is a noble guest within <us, O !
let all our business bo to entertain him honourably, and to live in celes-
tial love within, that will make all things without be very contemptible
in our eyes. I should rove on did not I stop myself, it falling out well
too for that, to be hard upon the past hours ere I thought of writing.
Therefore good night is all I add : for whatsoever hour it comes to
your hand, I believe you are as sensible as I, that it is still night, but
the comfort is, it draws nigh towards that bright morning that shall
make amends. — Your weary fellow pilgrim, — R. L."
During the troublous period of the civil war, the parties, and sects,
and sections of sects, were probably not so numerous as in the present
day, but they were more violent, inasmuchas religion then was more the
occupation of a man than it is now, and the public attention was more
undividedly directed towards that subject, as general knowledge was
neither widely spread, nor much cultivated by the community at large.
Good men, however of all parties, deplored the spirit of strife and de-
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. xvii
bate which in toomany instances was allowed to corrodethe vitals of Chris-
tianity, and destroy that spirit of love without which the purest orthodoxy
is of little consequence in promoting the cause of Christ. Among these
Leighton was conspicuous, and incessant in inculcating the doctrine of
peace and charity, and this he did by directing the minds of his hearers
to the more important matters of the law, and not by indifference to any
fundamental truth. The manner in which he fulfilled his duty towards
his pupils while Principal of Edinburgh University, he explains in a
beautiful valedictory oration which he delivered to the students before
he retired.
" Though this,"" says he, " I imagine is the last address I shall ever
have occasion to make to you, I will not detain you long from your
studies, nor encroach on the time allowed you for recreation. This
is, to be sure, the first time that some of you have heard me, but I have
a great many others to bear witness of the constant design of all my
dissertations in this place. They will testify, that the intention of all
my discourses, was that the " form of sound words," that is, the Chris-
tian doctrine, and, consequently, the fear and love of God, might not
only be impressed, but also engraven upon your hearts, in lasting and
indelible characters, and that you might not only admit as a truth,
but also pay the highest regard to, this indisputable maxim, " that
piety and religion is the only real good among men.11 Moreover, that
your minds might be the less encumbered in their application to this
grand study of religion, and the more expeditious in their progress
therein, I constantly endeavoured, with all possible warmth, to divert
you from those barren and thorny questions and disputes, that have
infected the whole of theology ; and this at a time, when the greatest
part of divines and professors, and those of no small reputation, en-
gaging furiously in such controversies, have split into parties, and un-
happily divided the whole world.
" It was my constant practice, to establish those great and uncontro-
verted articles of our holy religion, which are but few and clear ;
some part whereof are. confirmed by the common consent of nations,
and all the human race, and all the rest by the unanimous voice of the
whole Christian world. Of the first sort, are those we have often ad-
vanced in treating of the being and perfections of the one Supreme
and Eternal Principle, and the production of all things by him, the
continual preservation and government of the world by his provi-
dence, the law of God given to mankind, and the rewards and punish-
ments annexed to it. This other class of the grand articles of religion,
are indeed peculiar to Christian philosophy, but believed in common
by all the professors of that religion. These are the great foundations
of our faith, and of all our hope and joy, with regard to the incarnation
of the Son of God, his death and resurrection for the destruction of
sin, and consequently of death, his ascension into the highest heavens
with that same flesh of ours in which he died, and his exaltation there
above all ranks of angels, dominions, and throngs, whence we expect
he will return in great glory, on that day when he will be glorified in
all his saints, and admired in those that believe.
" As many therefore as desire to receive him in this his last manifes-
ft
xviii LIFE OF
tation, with joy and exultation, must of necessity be holy, and in con-
formity to their most perfect and glorious Head, sober, pious, upright,
and live in contempt of this perishing, transitory world, their own
mortal flesh, and the sordid pleasures of both ; in a word, all the en-
joyments which the mean and servile admire, they must trample under
foot and despise. For whoever will strive for the victory, and strive
so as at last to obtain it, the Lord will own him for his servant, and
the great Master will acknowledge him for his disciple. He will at-
tain a likeness to God in this earth, and after a short conflict, will
triumph in the divine presence for ever. These are the doctrines which
it is our interest to know, and in the observation of which our happi-
ness will be secured. To them you will turn your thoughts, young
gentlemen, if you are wise ; nay, to them you ought to give due at-
tention that you may be wise ; these phantoms we catch at fly away ;
this shadow of a life we now live, is likewise on the wing. These
things that are without the verge of sense, and above its reach, are
the only solid and lasting enjoyments. " Why are ye fond of these
earthly things, ' says St Bernard, ' which are neither true riches, nor
are they yours ? ' 'If they are yours, ' continues he, * take them with
you." And Lactantius admirably well observes, * that whoever pre-
fers the life of the soul, must of necessity contemn that of the body ;
nor can he aspire to the highest good, unless he despise advantages of
an inferior kind. For the all-wise God did not choose that we should
attain to immortality in a soft and indolent way, but that we should
gain that inexpressible reward of eternal life, with the highest diffi-
culty and severest labour.
"And that you may not be discouraged, remember the great Redeem-
er of your souls, your exalted Captain, hath gone before you, and we
have to do with an enemy already conquered. Let us only follow
him with courage and activity, and we have no ground to doubt of
victory ; and indeed it is a victory truly worthy of a Christian, to sub-
due the barbarous train of our appetites, and subject them to the empire
of reason and religion ; while on the other hand, it is the most shame-
ful bondage, to have the more divine part of our composition meanly
subjected to an ignoble earthly body. Now this victory can only be
secured by stedfast believing, vigorous opposition to our spiritual
enemies, unwearied watching, and incessant prayer. Let prayer not
only be the key that opens the day, and the lock that shuts the night;
but let it be also, from morning to night, our staff and stay in all our
labours, and enable us to go cheerfully up into the mount of God.
Prayer brings consolation to the languishing soul, drives away the
devil, and is the great medium whereby all grace and peace is com-
municated to us. With regard to your reading, let it be your par-
ticular care to be familiarly acquainted with the sacred scriptures
above all other books whatever ; for from thence you will truly derive
light for your direction, and sacred provisions for support on your
journey. In subordination to these, you may also use the writings of
pious men, that are agreeable to them : for these also you may improve
to your advantage, and particularly that little book of a Kempis of the
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. M,
Imitation of Christ, — since the sum and substance of religion consists
in imitating that being that is the object of your worship.
" May our dear Redeemer Jesus, impress upon your minds a lively
representation of his own meek and immaculate heart, that, in
that great and last day, he may by this mark know you to be his :
and together with all the rest of his sealed and redeemed ones, admit
you into the mansions of eternal bliss. Amen."
With this admirable address, which I have not chosen to abridge,
Leighton appears to have closed his University labours ; a new scene
now began to open upon him, one for which he suffered much in his
reputation and usefulness among his contemporaries, and which his
admirers, even now, find it hard to do more than excuse, — his aban-
doning the Presbyterians, and accepting a Bishopric from Charles II.
Had Leighton merely exchanged the Presbyterial form for the Epis-
copalian, his conduct would have admitted of an easy justification ;
his earliest sentiments appear to have been in favour of a modified
Episcopacy, unconnected with temporal power, or lordly state ; and
the power of a Presbytery, when tyrannically exerted, he considered
as more oppressive than that of a prelate, — in which opinion he en-
tirely coincided with Owen ; — besides, he considered church-govern-
xment as a matter of comparatively little moment, when put in com-
petition with personal holiness, and his meek soul was daily harassed
by angry controversialists who surrounded him, of many of whom he
thought justly, that, while they contended fiercely for the form, they
felt little of the power of religion. Changing therefore merely from
the one profession to the other, under such circumstances, and holding
such opinions upon these matters, would have been comparatively,
if at all, a venial error. But to join hands with such a set of men
as those with whom he associated, and lend the sanction of his name
to as foul an usurpation of the supreme Kingship of Christ in his
Church, and as unblushing an invasion of the rights of Christian peo-
ple, as ever was attempted, since the day when temporal potentates
first assumed an unholy influence within her pale, was a proceeding
which it is extremely difficult to account for.
Presbyterian church-government, and civil liberty, had been solemn-
ly sanctioned by Charles II. at his coronation at Scoone, and ratified
by the most sacred oaths, and most awful engagements known among
men; an immense majority of the nation were strongly attached to it;
and he had promised, in a written communication to the ministers at
Edinburgh, after his restoration, to preserve it. But the profligate
advisers by whom he was surrounded, had determined to establish a
civil despotism, to which, from early education, and his residence
abroad, he was mightily inclined ; and the constitution of the Scottish
Church being: esteemed a barrier, it was resolved that it should be
O *
swept away ; — besides, the king, and several of the leading men, had
found the strictness of Presbyterian discipline, and the decent morality
which it required, totally inconsistent with the licentiousness they
loved, and the conduct they intended to pursue.
Sharpe, who should have defended, allured by the primacy, betray-
ed his Church, and a crowd of sycophants, who hastened to London
xx LIFE OF
to secure their private interests, were easily persuaded to join in the
false representation, that a majority in Scotland detested the covenant,
and desired its overthrow. Episcopacy therefore was resolved upon,
and the hated fabric of prelacy, which had been so triumphantly le-
velled, was once more to be reared. Sydserf, the old Bishop of Gal-
loway, was the only fragment of the former Hierarchy that remained.
He had been deposed by the Assembly 1638, for erroneous doctrine,
but was now nominated to the Bishopric of Orkney, a much better
living. The others were named chiefly by Sharpe, and promoted on
account of their subserviency to the cause, rather than from any fit-
ness for the office. Wiseheart, formerly chaplain to Montrose, and
accused of a military freedom of manners, had Edinburgh, and Fair
foul, a person of no good fame, got Glasgow ; nor were any of the rest
men of much reputation, either for learning or sanctity. Leigliton
alone formed one exception, and Kirkton, who is not very willing to
praise whoever accepted the prelatic dignity, thus notices his appoint-
ment : " Mr Robert Leighton, then principal of Edinburgh College,
was made Bishop of Dumblane; thus he choised to demonstrate to the
world, avarice was not his principle, it being the smallest revenue ; a
man of good learning, excellent utterance, and very grave abstract
conversation, but almost altogether destitute of a doctrinal principle,
being almost indifferent, among all the professions that are called by
the name of Christ." We are indebted to Burnet for an account ot
the manner in which the Bishopric was offered, and he was induced to
accept of the nomination.
His brother Elisha had devoted himself to the Court, and in order
to serve his ambitious purposes, had changed his religion ; in this he
appears to have succeeded, for he became at once a papist, a -knight,
and secretary to the Duke of York ; he was a person of considerable
talents and vivacity, loved to talk of great sublimities in religion, —
yet very immoral. Living in terms of close intimacy with Lord Au-
bigny, a brother of the Duke of Richmond, a great favourite at court,
who had also changed his religion, and though a Priest, was likewise
" a very vicious man," he brought Mr Robert Leighton and him to-
gether. Aubigny, who was acquainted with the then secret of the
King's religion, which was popish, and with his design to establish
it if possible, was induced by the representations of Sir Elisha, and
by the mild manners of Leighton himself, to suppose that he might
be rendered subservient to the scheme, and mentioned him to the King
Charles, who had sufficient penetration to perceive that the accession
of such a man to the Scottish prelacy would be of immense importance,
named him himself as one of the number. Leighton was exceedingly
averse at first to the proposal, but the entreaties of royalty, and the
urgency of his brother, who expected to rise still higher through his
means, with some faint expectation that he might be instrumental in
moderating or healing the differences of the truly devout of the two
persuasions, overcame his reluctance, and he at last accepted, yet not
without a struggle, as the following letter, which is supposed to have
been written while he was deliberating, evinces. It is addressed to the
Rev. Mr Aird [afterwards] minister at Tornay. — " My dear Friend.
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. «1
I have received from you the kindest letter that ever you wrote me :
and that you may know I take it so, I return you the free and
friendly advice, never to judge any man before you hear him, nor
any business by one side of it. Were you here to see the other,
I am confident your thoughts and mine would be the same. You
have both too much knowledge of me, and too much charity to
think, that either such little contemptible scraps of honour or riches,
sought in that part of the world with so much reproach, or any hu-
man complacency in the world, will be admitted to decide so grave a
question, or that I would sell, — to speak no higher, — the very sen-
sual pleasure of my retirement, for a rattle, far less deliberately do any
thing that I judge offends God. For the offence of good people, in
cases indifferent in themselves, but not accounted so by them, what-
soever you do, or do not, you shall offend some good people, on the
one side or other. And for those with you, the great fallacy in this
business is, that they have mis-reckoned themselves in taking my silence,
and their zeal, to have been constant and participative, which how
great a mistake it is, few know better or so well as yourself : and the
truth is, I did see approaching an inevitable necessity, to strain with
them in divers practices, in what station soever remaining in Britain,
and *o have escaped further off, — which hath been in my thoughts, —
would have been the greatest scandal of all. And what will you say
if there be in this thing somewhat of that you mention, and would
allow of reconciling devout on different sides, and of enlarging these
good souls you meet with from their little fetters, though possibly with
little success ; yet the design is commendable, — pardonable at least.
However, one comfort I have, that in what is pressed on me, there
is the least of my own choice, yea, on the contrary, the strongest aver-
sion that ever I had in any thing in all my life ; the difficulty in short
lies, in a necessity of either owning a scruple which I have not, or the
rudest disobedience to authority that may be. The truth is, I am yet
importuning and struggling for a liberation, and look upward for it,
but whatsoever be the issue, I look beyond it, and this weary 'weary
wretched life, through which, the hand I have resigned to, I trust, will
lead me in the paths of his own choosing, and so I may please him, I
am satisfied. I hope that if ever we meet, you shall find me in the
paths of solitude and a devout life, your unaltered brother and friend,
R. L.
" When I set pen to paper, I intended not to exceed half a dozen
lines, but slid on insensibly thus far ; but though I should fill this
paper on all sides, still the right view of this business would be ne-
cessarily suspended till meeting. Meanwhile hope well of me, and
pray for me. This word I will add, that as there hath been nothing
of my choice in the thing, so I undergo it, — if it must be, — as a mor-
tification, and that greater than a cell and hair-cloth ; and whether
any will believe this or no, I am not careful.1'
If this letter was written, as it probably was, after the first parliament
in which the king's supremacy was established, and by which Argyle
and Guthrie were condemned, it shows how much Leightonhad abstract-
ed himself from the occurrences of the day, and how little he was ac-
^ LIFE OF
nuainted with the politico-theological state of the country, that heshould
entertain even the slightest hope of advancing the interest either of
peace or religion, by accepting a Bishopric in Scotland, and connecting
himself with a band of apostates, who had so iniquitously commenced
their atrocious career. His whole life proved, that Leighton was wholly
uninfluenced by sordid or secular motives; but while we acknowledge
his principles to be pure, and his personal behaviour exemplary, it may
fairly be questioned, how far in this instance his conduct was justifiable,
in holding fellowship with those who framed mischief by a law, who
gathered themselves together against the soul of the righteous, and con-
demned innocent blood ; but as he foresaw, it proved to him a life of suf-
fering, and he was, after years of mental anguish, forced to withdraw
from the scene, and from all participation in measures, of which he left
a strong condemnatory sentence in his affirmation to Charles, " that
he would not consent to propagate Christianity itself by such means."
The following letter appears to have been written about this time :
" Dear Friend, I did receive your letter, which I would have known
to be yours, though it had no other sign but the piety and affectionate
kindness expressed in it. I will offer you no apology, nor I hope I heed
not, for not writing since that to you. I will confess, that if the surpris-
ing and unexpected occasion of the bearer had not drawn it from me,
I should hardly for a long time to come, have done what I am now
doing, and yet still love you more than they do one another, that inter-
change letters even of kindness, as often as the gazettes come forth, and
as long as they are too. And now I have begun, I would end just here;
for I have nothing to say, nothing of affairs to be sure, private nor'
public ; and to strike Up to discourses of devotion, alas ! what is there
to be said, but what you sufficiently know, and daily read, and daily
think, and I am confident, daily endeavour to do ; and I am beaten
back, if I had a great mind to speak of such things, by the sense of
so great deficiency in doing these things, that the most ignorant among
Christians cannot choose but know. Instead of all fine notions to fly
to Kvin £X8))i76y %£<«-T5 Ix«i<rov, I think them the great heroes and excel-
lent persons of the world, that attain to high degrees of pure contem-
plation and divine love ; but next to these, them that, in aspiring to
that, and falling short of it, fall down into deep humiliation and self-
contempt, and a real desire to be despised and trampled on by all
the world. And I believe, that they that sink lowest into that depth,
stand nearest to advancement to those other heights t for the great
King who is the fountain of that honour, hath given us this character
of himself, that he resists the proud, and gives grace to the humble.
Farewell, my dear friend, and be so charitable as sometimes in your
addresses upwards to remember a poor caitiff' who no day forgets you.
R. L. 13th Dec. 1676.*
Sydserf, the withered twig of the old stem, not being sufficient to com-
municate the undefinable sacredness of the prelatic character to a netf
generation, four of the bishops elect were summoned to the English
capital, to receive from the fathers of London and Worcester such
gifts as they could bestow by the imposition of their " holy" hands.
Sharpe and Leighton having received Presbyterian ordination, they
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON xxiii
hesitated about being re-ordained, but as it was determined that Pres-
bytery should be destroyed root and branch, that, was declared invalid,
and after some short disputation, they submitted to receive the orders
of deacon and priest, previously to their consecration as bishops.
Hamilton and Fairfoul had previously to 1638 received the orders
from the abrogated Scottish Hierarchy, which were held good. To
this act, which desecrated the whole of the Scottish ministers, even had
they been inclined to conform, ijeighton is said to have reconciled
his mind by an evasion, — that the new ceremony was only declaratory
of his admission into another communion, but did not destroy the sanc-
tity of his former ordination ; a distinction which Presbyterians would
not readily be brought to comprehend.
Consecrated however they all were at Westminster on the 12th
December 1661, with much clerical splendour, and a series of feasting
between the nobles and the bishops followed, which grieved Leighton's
pious soul, and gave plain augury of what kind of church they were
about to establish. It is perfectly clear there was no community of
soul between them ; Sharpe hated and opposed him, and even Sheldon
" did not much like his great strictness, in which he had no mind to
imitate him," though both he and the rest of the English clergy greatly
preferred him before his brethren, whom he excelled, not more in the
extent of his learning, than in the uprightness of his walk and conver-
sation. His trials began almost immediately.
When the revelry had ceased, he endeavoured to prevail upon Sharpe
to settle some plan for their future procedure, and proposed for his
consideration, — first, his favourite project of attempting to bring about
an union between the Presbyterians and them, — next, the best means
for promoting the growth of piety, — and then a method for gradually
assimilating the mode of worship among the two persuasions. But he
was sorely disappointed to find, that the Primate had formed no plan,
and was unwilling to hear of any. He only looked forward to coer-
cive measures ; Episcopacy he knew would be established in the next
Parliament, and when once they were legally settled in their dioceses,
then he said every Bishop must do the best he could to get the people
and clergy to submit to hjs authority ; which once effected, it would
be sufficient time to proceed to regulate other matters. Fairfoul had
always " a merry tale ready at hand to divert him" whenever the sub-
ject was started, so that he found it impossible to hold any serious con-
versation with him, of which indeed he did not seem capable. " By
these means," adds Burnet, " Leighton quickly lost all heart and hope;
and said often to me upon it, that in the whole progress of that affair,
there appeared such gross characters of an angry providence, that how
fully soever he was satisfied in his own mind as to Episcopacy itself,
yet it seemed that God was against them, and that they were not like
to be the men that should build up his church, so that the struggling
about it seemed to him like a fighting against God. He who had the
greatest hand in it, [Sharpe] proceeded with so much dissimulation ;
and the rest of the order were so mean and so selfish, and the Earl of
Middleton, with the other secular men that conducted it, were so openly
impious and vicious, that it did cast a reproach on every thing relating
rxiv LIFE OF
to religion, to see it managed by such instruments." About the middle
of next year they set out for Scotland, but Leighton, understanding
that they meant to make a grand entry into Edinburgh, left them at
Morpeth, and proceeded forward alone ;— the rest were received by
the magistrates in their robes, with sound of trumpet, or, as was sarcas-
tically remarked, " with the sound of the cornet, flute, harp, sackbut,
psaltery, and dulcimer, and all kinds of music," at the hearing of which,
the people were to fall down, and worship the prelates whom the king
had made. Leighton proceeded directly to Dunblane, and not only
declined sharing in these pageantries, but even requested that his friends
would not give him the title of " Lord," a request \vhich, however con-
sonant with the injunctions of his heavenly Master, was by no means
agreeable to his earthly brethren.
Episcopacy was set up by proclamation, the meetings of synods and
presbyteries were forbid by the same authority, but it required an act
of Parliament to restore the Bishops to their jurisdiction and their seats.
This was done the first of the session 1662, in the most ample manner,
and as soon as it was passed, the prelates who were in waiting, were
invited by a deputation from each estate, to resume their places in the
house, which they immediately did among the Earls on the right hand
of the Commissioner, Leighton on this occasion also forming the only
solitary exception. He was not however long suffered to enjoy his
retirement, and the occasion which called him from it, is highly ho-
nourable to his memory. Several ministers, Mr John Carstairs, Mr
James Nasmyth, Mr James Veitch, and some others, were accused of
using seditious language in their sermons, but the accusations could not
be substantiated ; as was the custom however in these times, if a charge
was brought against a presbyterian, and could not be proved, instead
of being set free, the oath of allegiance, in which the King^s supremacy
in all affairs civil and ecclesiastical was asserted, was offered them, and
they were required to take it as a mark of loyalty ; — in this case the
ministers were brought before parliament, and had the oath tendered.
They required time to consider it, and after some days serious delibera-
tion, gave in an explanation, in which they declared, " they believed
the .King was supreme governor over all persons, and in all causes, not
only civil but ecclesiastic ; but that the power of the King is, in its
own nature, only civil and extrinsic as to causes ecclesiastical." This
explanation the Commission refused, upon which a debate arose, whe-
ther an act explanatory of the oath should be offered to Parliament or
not. Leighton strongly urged the propriety of its being done ; the land,
he said, mourned by reason of the multiplicity of oaths, and the words
of the present were certainly susceptible of a bad sense ; the papists in
England had been allowed this privilege of explaining, and he thought
a like tenderness should be shown to protestants, especially in a case
where their scruples appeared to be just, otherwise it would look like
laying snares for the people, by making men offenders for a word. Sharpe
replied with great bitterness : he said that it was beneath the dignity of
a government, to frame acts to satisfy the scruples of peevish men, and it
1 became them who had forced their covenant on all ranks, without dis-
tinction or explanation, to come forward now, and ask such a licence for
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XXT
themselves" — " For that very reason," retorted Leighton, " it ought to
be granted, that the world may perceive the difference between the
present mild government, and their severity; — nor does it become per-
sons who complain of that rigour, to resort to similar harshness, lest
thus it might be said, the world goes mad by turns." But his arguments
were of no avail, — the ministers were required to take the oath or un-
dergo the penalty, imprisonment or exile; they refused to subscribe, and
preferred to suffer : and Leighton had only the consolation, of having
attempted in vain to avert their oppression.
For several years we do not meet with the JBishop^s name in any of the
political transactions of the times, but we find from his charges to his
clergy, and some few letters which have been preserved, that he was
far more honourably employed, in fulfilling the spiritual duties of his
office. Of the difficulties with which he 'had to contend, some idea
may be formed, from the character of the clergy over whom he was
called to preside ; this we are enabled to give from an episcopalian
writer, and therefore the less liable to objection. At the close of the
year 1662, about two hundred faithful ministers of Christ, rather than
violate their consciences, gave up their livings in the west of Scotland ;
and of these a number belonged to the diocese of Dumblane, of which
an imperfect list is given in Wodrow^s Appendix. To fill their places,
Burnet says, " There was a sort of an invitation sent over the kingr-
dom, like a hue and cry, to all persons to accept of benefices in the
west ; the livings were generally well endowed, and the parsonage
houses were well built and in good repair, and this drew many very
worthless persons thither, who had little learning, less piety, and no
sort of discretion." " They were the worst preachers I ever heard,
they were ignorant to a reproach, and many of them were openly
vicious, they were a disgrace to their order and the sacred function,
and were indeed the dregs and refuse of the northern parts. Those
of them who arose above contempt or scandal, were men of such vio-
lent tempers, that they were as much hated as the others were despis-
ed. This was the fatal beginning of restoring Episcopacy in Scotland,
of which few of the bishops seemed to have any sense." Only two
non-conformists'1 names appear in the roll of the presbytery of Dumblane,
which formed that part of the diocese more immediately under the
Bishop's eye ; whether this was owing to the influence and persuasion
of Leighton, or whether the list be incomplete, it is impossible now to
determine ; but I should be rather apt to suppose the latter, as
Wodrow affirms, that the clergy of the diocese formed no exception
to the general character of these west country brethren.
No blame, however, can attach to Leighton for this, he has left us his
recorded opinion of the manner in which he thought a people should be
treated, M'ith regard to spiritual teachers, in a letter he wrote to the
Heritors of Straiton, and which it would be well did the present pa-
trons of presby terian churches imitate.
"Worthy gentlemen and friends, — Being informed that it is my duty
to present a person fit for the charge of the ministry now vacant with
you, I have thought of one whose integrity and piety I am so fully
persuaded of, that I dare confidently recommend him to you as one.
0*
who, if the hand of God do bind that work upon him amongst you, is
likely, through the blessing of the same hand, to be very serviceable
to the building up of your souls heavenwards, but is as far from suf-
fering himself to be obtruded, as I am from obtruding any upon you ;
so that unless you invite him to preach, and after hearing him declare
your consent and desire towards his embracing of the call, you may
be secure from the trouble of hearing any further concerning him, either
from himself or me ; and if you please to let me know your mind,
your reasonable satisfaction shall be to my utmost power endeavoured,
by your affectionate friend and humble servant, R. LEIGHTON."
The person here recommended was Mr James Aird, who had been
a minister at Ingram in Northumberland, and was then residing in
Edinburgh ; he was afterwards minister at Torrey, so that it would
appear the Heritors at Straiton had not taken the bishop's advice.
The following letter to the same gentleman, was probably written upon
this occasion ; it is also without date. " Dear Friend, — I trust you
enjoy that same calm of mind touching your present concernment,
that I do in your behalf. I dare not promise to see you at Edinburgh
at this time, but it is possible I may. I know you will endeavour
to set yourself on as strong a guard as you can, against the assaults
you may meet with there from diverse well-meaning persons, but oi
weak understandings and strong passions, and will maintain the liberty
of your own mind, both firmly and meekly. Our business is the study of
sincerity and pure intention, and then, certainly our blessed guide
will not suffer us to lose our way for want of light ; we have his pro-
mise, that if in all our ways we acknowledge him, he will direct our
paths. While we are consulting about the turns and new motions oi
life, it is sliding away, but if our great work in it be going on, all is
well. Pray for your poor friend, R. L. — Dumblane, Jan. 13th."
We have also, in a beautiful epistle, — unfortunately without date or
address, — his views of the temper and disposition he thought those
should cultivate, whom he wished to introduce into the ministry.
" Sir, — There is one place indeed in my precinct, and yet undis-
posed of, by the voluntary removal of the young man who was in it
to a better benefice ; and this is likewise in my hand, but it is of so
wretchedly mean provision, that I am ashamed to name it, little I
think above five hundred merks by year.* If the many instances
of that kind you have read, have made you in love with volun-
tary poverty, there you may have it ; but wheresoever you are, or shall
be for the little rest of your time, I hope you are, and still will be
daily advancing in that blessed poverty of spirit, that is the only
true height and greatness of spirit in all the world, entitling to a
rown, « for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." Oh ! what are the
scraps that the great ones of this world are scrambling for, com-
nnrpri nri+h -fVio* »-v«~±,, : IT _ o *
J • -I * "» **••• *-* V^A U41J.JkSAl.ll£l 1 V/J. * \s\JLH —
pared with that pretension! I pray you, as you find an opportu-
nity, though possibly little or no inclination to it, yet bestow one
line or two upon -your poor friend and servant, R L."
Fart of the diocese of Dumblane in the vicinity of the Hig
• Thirty-six pounds five shillings, if the merk be reckored at 2s. 3d.
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. xxv-i
was at this period among the ruder portions of Scotland, and from
the state of restlessness and contention in which they were kept upby
their neighbours, laboured under the demoralizing influence of border
customs ; the Bishop therefore, in his charge, September 1662, expres-
ses his anxious desire, " that all diligence be used for the repressing of
profaneness, and for the advancement of solid piety, and that not only
scandals of unchastity, but drunkenness, swearing, cursing, filthy
speaking, and mocking of religion, and all other gross offences be
brought under church-censure, and that scandalous offenders should
not be absolved, till there appeared in them probable signs of true re-
pentance.1' Although he does not mention the discipline of the Pres-
byterians, he urges upon his clergy the exercise of the most commend-
able parts of their practice,— catechising, visiting, and frequent ex-
pounding of the Scriptures. At the Reformation, and before the com-
monalty could read for themselves, there were public readers appoint-
ed in the church, and the hour between the second and third ringing
of the Kirk bell on Sabbath, was usually employed in reading portions
of the Old and New Testaments to the people; this practice, which had
fallen into disuse as education became more diffused, Leighton wished
to revive, and urged upon his curates the advantage of making their
people well acquainted with the pure word of God, by carefully re-
verting to this good old custom. He also strongly recommended their
taking large portions of Scripture, and lecturing from them, rather than
raising a theme from a single text, for he thought a number of short
practical observations from a series of verses, preferable to a long dis-
sertation from one.
He wished likewise to establish daily public prayer, and reading the
scriptures morning and evening in churches, in as far as these did not
interfere with the private or family worship of the people; which
duties he was extremely anxious to promote : as he was also of a more
frequent celebration of the Lord's supper ; but, above all, he pro-
pounded to the brethren, that it was to be reminded by himself and
them, both to how eminent degrees of purity of heart and life their
holy calling did engage them, and to how great contempt of this pre-
sent world and inflamed affections towards heaven, springing from deep
persuasions within them of those things they preached to others ; and
that they should be meek and gentle, and lovers and exhorters of peace
private and public, amongst all ranks of men ; endeavouring rather to
quench than to increase, the useless debates and contentions that
abounded in the world, and be always more studious of pacific, than
polemic divinity.
While this excellent prelate was assiduously, but calmly endeavour-
ing to alleviate the evils by which he was environed, the furious and
insane council, dogged by the unprincipled crew of bishops and
curates,, who were determined to force upon the nation a Hierarchy
they universally detested, proceeded with the most cruel and incon-
siderate rashness, to desolate the church and the country by measures
to which no conscientious and enlightened people could ever submit.
Oaths opposed to every principle which had been recognized as sacred
for nearly thirty years in Scotland, were proposed to men who feared
an oatli, arid those who sincerely believed in the divine institution of
presbytery* were required to renounce it, merely because their rulers
deemed it expedient that they should do so, and to join a church whose
form they considered unscriptural ; and whose clergy they viewed,
and (if Burners description be true,) justly viewed as children of the
devil.
Had the people been like their priests or their rulers, indifferent at
once to the reality and the form of religion, whatever guilt might have
attached to compliance, there would have been little hardship ; but
educated as they had been, and well informed and well grounded
as they were in their principles, numbers chose rather to suffer than
to sin, and counted not their lives dear unto the death, that they might
hold fast their integrity; — the consequence was, that the land, like the
prophet's scroll, from one end to the other, was lamentation, and mourn-
ing, and woe. Leighton, placed in the most trying of all possible
situations, wept over what he could not prevent ; and, after a sickening
struggle of about three years, resolved to withdraw from a situation
as painful as it was unprofitable. In October 1665, after the business
was over, he communicated his intention to the synod. In a short
address, he told them that all the account he could give of the reasons
moving him to it, was briefly the sense he had of his own unworthi-
ness of so high a station in the church, and his weariness of their con-
tentions, which seemed rather to be growing than abating ; and by
their growth, to make so great abatements of that Christian meekness
and mutual charity, that is so much more worth than the whole sum
of all they contended about. He then thanked the brethren for all their
undeserved respect and kindness manifested to himself, and desired
their good construction of the poor endeavours he had used, to serve
and to assist them in promoting the work of the ministry, and the
great designs of the gospel in their bounds ; and if in any thing, in word
or deed, he had offended them, or any of them, he very earnestly and
humbly craved their pardon ; and having recommended them to con-
tinue in the study of peace and holiness, and of ardent love to our
great Lord and Master, and to the souls he hath so dearly bought, he
closed with these words of the apostle : « Finally, brethren, farewell ;
be perfect, be of good comfort, be of one mind, and live in peace, and
the God of peace and love shall be with you.1"
He was however prevailed upon, first to proceed to court, to give a
faithful representation of the miseries of the country, which he the
more willingly did, as it was then supposed that the king's easy, careless
good nature, imposed upon by Sharpe, would, when undeceived, sym-
pathize with the sufferers, and consent to more moderate methods.
Charles was an accomplished profligate, and one of the most sel-
h of mortals ; his own enjoyment was the sole end of his existence,
that he sacrificed honour, veracity, and friendship, and every thing
that an honest man would have held estimable; he had however a
plausibility of manner, that imposed on the guileless or superficial ob-
server Leighton was imposed upon :— when introduced to the king,
he told him freely that the proceedings in Scotland were so violent,
that he would not concur in planting the Christian religion itself in
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. xxix
such a manner, much less a form of church government; and he there-
fore begged leave to quit his bishopric, and retire, for while he retain-
ed it, he thought he was in some manner accessory to the violence of
the ecclesiastics with whom he was associated ; as it was given out
that all these outrages were intended to establish their order. The
King seemed touched with the statements when he heard them,
and promised that more lenient measures should be pursued ; laid the
blame chiefly on Sharpe, and insisted upon the Bishop's resuming his
labours. According to Burnet, the consequence of these representations
was an order from Charles to discontinue the ecclesiastical commis-
sion, and perhaps the King might claim some merit with Leighton
for this, but the Scottish historians assert, that that court had already
become contemptible with all ranks and parties ; and, no longer able to
carry its own oppressive decrees into execution, was, if not defunct, at
least on the point of expiring.
Leighton however returned with renewed expectations, but it was
only to meet with renewed disappointment. Sharpe at the head of
the council managed all as he chose, — persecution continued to increase,
— and religious men were confined, imprisoned, and banished, because
they would not consent to attend the ministrations of those curates whose
character we have quoted above from an eye witness and an Episcopa-
lian. Leighton could only sigh, like the prophet, " Oh that I had in
the wilderness a lodging place of wayfaring men, that I might leave
my people, and go from them !" His letters in general want dates,
and of course cannot be accurately arranged, but a fragment quoted
by Jerment may not improperly be placed about this time : " Thorns
grow every where, and from all things below, but to a soul transplant-
ed out of itself into the root of Jesse, peace grows every where too,
from him who is called our peace, and whom we still find the more to
be so, the more entirely we live in him, being dead to this world and
self, and all things beside him. O when shall it be ! Well ! Let all the
world go as it will, let this be our only pursuit and ambition, and to all
other things, Fiat voluntas tua, Domine, ' Lord, thy will be done P "
In the political arrangements respecting the Church, he had never
taken much part, but in the meetings of his synod he appears to have
been more interested, though, from a wish not to appear haughty or
domineering, he had suffered irregularities to pass unnoticed, which it
would have required a stronger hand to repress. " I confess," says
he, in his address to them, April 1667» ** I confess that my own in-
active and unmeddling temper may be too apt to prevail against the
known duty of my station, and may incline me rather to inquire too
little than too much into the deportment of others ; and rather to be
deficient, than to exceed in admonitions and advices to my brethren
in matters of their duty ; and besides this natural aversion, the sense
of my own great unworthiness and filthiness may give me check, and
be a very strong curb upon me, in censuring others for what may be
amiss, or in offering any rules for the redress of it : And there is yet
another consideration that bends still further that way, for I am so de-
sirous to keep far off from the reach of that prejudice that abounds in
LIFE OF
these parts against the very name of my sacred function, as apt to
command and domineer too much, that I may possibly err on the
other hand, and scarce perform the duty of the lowest and most mo-
derate kind of moderator, so that I am forced to spur and drive my-
self against all these retardments, to suggest anything, how useful so-
ever beyond our road or accustomed way, especially finding how little
any thing of that kind takes and prevails to any real effect."
This humble and mild introduction was prefixed to a charge intend-
ed to remind them of their inattention to former instructions and admo-
nitions, and to recommend particularly the « privy trials" of ministers
in their presbyteries :— these were examinations by the presbytery in-
to the doctrine their members preached, the manner in which they
fulfilled the duties of their office, and their moral and Christian conduct
as ministers of the Gospel ; in which he said he had perceived in some
places very much of superficial empty form. He therefore proposed a
series of queries for their consideration, which he thought might be
useful : " For though," he remarks, "we can have nothing but every
man's own word concerning himself, yet this does not render it an use-
less thing, for besides that divers of the questions will be of things so
obvious to public knowledge, that no man will readily adventure to
give an untrue answer where it may be so easily traced, there is much
to be given to the presumed ingenuity and veracity of a minister, es-
pecially in what is solemnly and punctually enquired of him, — and
whatsoever formerly hath been or hath not been, his former degree of
diligence in the particulars, the very enquiry and asking concerning
them will be apt to awake in every man a more serious reflection upon
himself touching each point."
These questions were, — Whether he were assiduous in plain and pro-
fitable preaching? diligent in catechising? frequent in celebrating the
communion ? faithful in the exercise of discipline ? attentive in visiting
his flock ? careful of the relief of thepoor ? and plain and free in admon-
ishing open transgressors ? Then, as the personal conduct of the clergy-
man was what could alone give M'eight and efficacy to his reproofs and
instructions, more pointed queries followed : Whether he watched
exactly over his own conversation, not only giving no offence, but being
an example to his flock, and preaching by his living ? whether it be the
great pleasure of his life to fulfil the work of his ministry ? if he does not
only avoid gross offences, intolerable in a guide of souls, but studies daily
to mortify pride, rash anger, vain glory, covetousness and love of this
world, and sensual pleasures, &c. and finally, whether hebeat peace with
hisbrethren, and be an ardentlover and promoter of it amongthe people?
From his pastoral charges it will be perceived that Leighton prized
highly some of the characteristic features of Presbytery, and it redounds
greatly to his honour, that he not only did not persecute the profession
he had forsaken, or behave harshly towards his former fellow-labourers,
but he retained as much of the form as he legally could, and as much of
the practice as was attainable, while he treated the « outed" ministers as
s brethren. Rethought, however, that the mode of conducting public
worship admitted of improvement, especially with regard to reading the
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. xxxi
scriptures when the congregation was assembled, these he recommended
to be read in larger portions, and also that the Lord's Prayer, the ten
Commandments, and the Creed, should be more frequently repeated ;
a practice for which he had the authority of the earlier reformers.
How far Dumblane profited by his unwearied exertions and pious ex-
ample, it is impossible to say, but as he is still held in grateful remem-
brance in that quarter, it is reasonable to suppose that his labours were
not altogether in vain.
Among his fellow prelates his conduct had only the effect of deepen-
ing the shade of their turpitude by the purity of its lustre. " I observ-
ed," says Burnet, "• the deportment of our bishops was in all points so
different from what became their function, that I had a more than ordi-
nary zeal kindled within me upon it. They were not only furious
against all that stood out against them, but were very remiss in all the
parts of their function. Some did not live within their dioceses, and
those who did, seemed to take no care of them. They showed no zeal
against vice ; the most eminently wicked in the country were their
particular confidants, they took no pains to keep their clergy strictly
to rules and to their duty ; on the contrary, there was a levity and a
carnal way of living about them, that very much scandalized me."
And he tells us, that in a memorial which he wrote upon this occasion,
he showed how they had departed from the primitive church, by
neglecting their xlioceses, meddling so much in secular affairs, raising
their families out of the revenues of the church, and above all, by their
violent persecuting of those who differed from them. While Leighton
was pursuing his peaceful and holy avocations, the Primate was re-
velling in the blood of the unfortunate covenanters, whom oppression
had driven to resistance, and who had been scattered at Pentland, and
the whole west and south were filled with prelatic vengeance^ and legal
and military executions.
Political events (1667) which for a short time terrified Charles from
his despotic projects, transferred the management of Scottish affairs
into the hands of Lord Tweedale, who, together with Lauderdale, by
whom he was supported, was disgusted with the violence of Sharpe
and his associates, and wished to restore his suffering country to some
kind of tranquillity. Ecclesiastical grievances jjeing the chief source of
all the distractions, he entered into a close communication with the
bishop of Dumblane, who was again prevailed upon to go to London,
where he had two audiences of the King ; — in these, he represented
with honest freedom the madness of the former administration of church
affairs, and the necessity of more moderate councils ; Charles listened,
and promised, and did nothing. Leighton returned to his charge,
where he remained, till in 1669 he was again called upon by Twee-
dale to make a new effort for restoring peace to the church. Ever
anxious to promote this object, the dearest to his heart, he hastened to
lend what assistance he could. He proposed that a treaty of accom-
modation should be attempted with the Presbyterians, for the purpose
of setting the differences completely at rest, by each party yielding
somewhat of their alleged rights and mutual demands. His plan was
xvaii
somewhat similar to that species of Episcopacy under which he had been
trained, and on which he acted in his own diocese ; he proposed that
the church courts should be retained, and that the bishops and mini-
sters shotild act together in them, the bishops being ex-officio perpe-
tual presidents, or moderators, — that the Presbyterians should be al-
lowed, when they first sat down in these judicatories, to declare, that
their sitting under a bishop was submitted to by them only for peace
sake with a reservation of their opinion with relation to any such
presidency, — and that no negative vote should be claimed by the bishop :
that bishops should go to the churches, in which such as were to be
ordained were to serve, and hear and discuss any exceptions that were
made to them, and ordain them with the concurrence of the presbytery .
that such as were to be ordained, should have leave to declare their
opinion, if they thought the bishop was only the head of the Presby-
ters. And he also proposed, that there should be provincial Synods
to sit every third year, or oftener if the King should summon them,
in which complaints of the bishops should be received, and they cen-
sured if deserving. — Burnet's expression is amusing, " and they should
be censured accordingly," implying perhaps unintentionally, what was
really the fact, that if their conduct were ever brought before a church
court, censure must be the inevitable consequence. The same writer
alleges, that Leighton, in making these concessions, acted upon the
same policy that James VI. did, only let the Bishops, however loosely, be
peaceably acknowledged, and they will gradually and eventually ac-
quire a complete power in the church. This, for the sake of Leighton's
character, I am willing to believe a misconception of his views ; — it is
not improbable that the statesmen with whom he associated might
have used such arguments to influence the Episcopalians to comply
with propositions which went to reduce their antichristian domination,
but that Leighton ever held out any such inducements, is not at all
likoly, especially as in the above propositions he seems only to have em-
bodied his earliest principles. The Earl of Kincardine, one of the
leaders in the council, was not averse to concessions being granted to
the Presbyterians ; but he was of opinion that these concessions ought
to be legalized by an act of parliament, and then it was probable they
would submit to what they could not help, while, if proposed before-
hand, they would set themselves to state objections, and render an
agreement more hopeless than ever. Leighton coincided with him in
opinion, and Burnet was dispatched to sound Mr Hutchison, a cousin-
german of his own, and in high repute among the Presbyterians,
but he was of opinion it would not meet the wishes of either
party. Lauderdale objected, because, being the chief manager of
Scottish affairs, and suspected of favouring the Presbyterians, he
was afraid lest the English bishops should think he was sacrificing the
cause of Episcopacy to their enemies. The idea of an accommodation
between the parties was therefore given up at this time.
Yet the state of the country required that something should be done.
The people would not attend the places where the curates, " a set
of men so ignorant and so scandalous," officiated, while they flocked
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.
to hear the zealous and able Presbyterian, or, as they were then called,
*' outed" ministers, who now were forced to betake themselves to the
fields, and beneath the wide canopy of heaven, proclaim the truths
of the everlasting gospel. It was in consequence suggested, that a
number of these ministers should be allowed to serve in the vacant
parishes under certain restrictions, a fettered liberty, in opposition to
the standing law of the country, which was granted by the King under
the ironical name of an " Indulgence" and which was followed by
one of the most oppressive acts that ever was framed for burdening the
consciences of men, whose highest crime was contending for the Head-
ship of Christ in his Church.
This was the first of the Parliament 1669, asserting his majesty's
supremacy over all persons, and in all cases ecclesiastical, by virtue
whereof, the ordering and disposal of the external government and
policy of the church, was declared properly to belong to the king, and
his successors, as an inherent right of the crown. This, which was an
ex post facto legalizing of the king's stretch of power in granting an
indulgence,* was not agreeable to Leighton, yet he voted for it, al-
though he afterwards expressed his regret at having allowed himsell
to be betrayed into such a compliance. Burnet, archbishop of Glas-
gow, and all " his sett," who allowed the king every exorbitant prero-
gative that he chose to claim, when the object was to crush Presby-
tery, now complained loudly when the prerogative was exerted to fa-
vour it. His majesty's supremacy asserted by the act, was immediately
applied to chastise such insolence, and his Grace of Glasgow, rather
than dispute the point, took the hint, and retired for the time upon a
pension.
No one of the worldly, ambitious, and detested prelates, possessed
either the esteem of the people, or the confidence of the government ;
Leighton in these respects stood alone, and his pre-eminence pointed
him out as the only fit person to fill the Arch-Episcopate Burnet had
been forced to resign. " It was easily found," Sir George Mackenzie
remarks, " that the Bishop of Dumblane was the most proper and fit
person to serve the state in the church according to the present plat-
form of government now resolved upon ; for he Was ia much esteem
for his piety and moderation among the people, and as to which the
Presbyterians themselves could neither reproach nor equal him. Al-
beit they hated him most of all his fraternity, in respect he drew many
into a kindness for Episcopacy by his exemplary life, rather than de-
bates. His great principle was, that devotion was the great affair
about which churchmen should employ themselves, and that the gain-
ing of souls, and not the external government, was their proper task ;
nor did he esteem it fit, and scarce lawful to churchmen to sit in coun-
cils and judicatories, these being diversions from the main. And al-
beit his judgement did lead him to believe the church of England the
• Burnet says the words " Ecclesiastical matters" were interpolated after Leighton had
seen the act ; but this is a very lame justification, — the very title of the Bill implied them,
and the whole Bill, not a very long one, asserts in the most unqualified manner the Ecclesiaa*
tical supremacy of the King. — Leigh ton's easiness of temper is the only excuse.
C
LIFE OF
xxxiv
best modelled of all others, both for doctrine and discipline ; yet did
hteasily conform with the practice of the Christians amongst whom he
lived, and therefore lived peaceably under Presbytery till it was abo-
lished And when he undertook to be a Bishop himself, he opposed all
violent courses, whereby men were forced to comply with the present
worship beyond their persuasions; and he had granted a latitude
and indulgence to those of.his own diocese, before the king had allow-
ed any by his letter. This made the world believe that he was author
to his majesty of that public indulgence, and the statesmen who
were unwilling to be authors of an innovation, which some there thought
might prove dangerous, were well satisfied to have it so believed; but
however these principles rendered him a fit instrument in their present
undertaking." The Earls of Lauderdale and Tweedale therefore urg-
ed him to accept the see, but he was strongly averse, and for some
time so resolutely declined, that Gilbert Burnet, now Professor of Di-
vinity in Glasgow, and all his friends, became exceedingly uneasy, and
it was only the hope of being able to achieve an accommodation that
at length induced him to consent to the proposal; though only to hold
the see in commendam, that is, administer the affairs without being
ordained to the office.
As soon as he had agreed to accept, the king commanded his atten^
dance at court, and on his way thither he called upon the Professor,
with whom he had a long consultation, but received poor encourage-
ment, for Burnet says, he told him that he expected little good, only
he thought an accommodation not altogether impracticable. Upon
his arrival in London, he found Lauderdale strangely altered in his
temper, for having triumphed over all his rivals, he was become fierce
and intractable ; the scheme of accommodation was judged improper,
and toleration by royal authority, was deemed the preferable mode for
conciliating the country, and exalting his majesty's prerogative. Yet
the Archbishop's arguments prevailed with the king, and his plan, cor-
rected by Sir George Murray, was turned into instructions for Lauder-
dale, the Lord High Commissioner, with authority to legalize all the
concessions ; but from what afterwards appeared, there was every
reason to believe, that Charles had, with his usual duplicity, given se-
cret directions that the whole should be frustrated.
Being fully occupied with his new charge, the Archbishop found it
impracticable to attend the meeting of Dumblane synod this year, but
he still was careful for their welfare, and sent them a truly pastoral
letter :
" GLASGOW, April 6. 1671. — REVEREND BRETHREN, The super-
added burden that I have here, sits so heavy upon me, that I cannot
escape from under it to be with you at this time, but my heart and
designs shall be with you for a blessing from above upon your meet-
ing. I have nothing to recommend to you, but if you please to take
a review of things formerly agreed upon, and such as you judge most
useful, to renew the appointment of putting them in practice, and to
add whatsoever farther shall occur to your thoughts that may pro-
mote the happy discharge of your ministry, and the good of your peo-
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. xxxv
pie's souls. I know I need not remind you, for I am confident you
daily think of it, that the great principle of fidelity and diligence, and
good success in that great work, is love, and the great spring of love
to souls, is love to him that bought them. He knew it well
himself, and gave us to know it, when he said, " Simon, lovest thou
me ? feed my sheep, feed my lambs." Deep impressions of his blessed
name upon our hearts, will not fail to produce lively expressions of it,
not only on our words and discourses in private and public, but will
make the whole tract of our lives, to be a true copy and transcript of
his holy life. And if there be within us any sparks of that divine love,
you know the best way not only to preserve them, but to excite them,
to blow them up into a flame, is by the breath of prayer. Oh prayer !
the converse of the soul with God, the breath of God in man return-
ing to its Original ; frequent and fervent prayer, the better half of our
whole work, and that which makes the other half lively and effectual ;
as that holy company tells us, when appointing deacons to serve the
tables, they add, " But we will give ourselves continually to prayer
and the ministry of the word.'1 And is it not, brethren, an unspeakable
advantage, beyond all the gainful and honourable employments of this
world, that the whole work of our particular calling is a kind of living
in heaven, and besides its tendency to the saving of the souls of others,
is all along so proper, and adapted to the purifying and saving of
our own ? But you will possibly say, What does he himself that
speaks these things to us ? Alas ! I am ashamed to tell you. All I
dare say is this, — I think I see the beauty of holiness, and am en-
amoured with it, though I attain it not ; and how little soever I at-
tain, would rather live and die in the pursuit of it, than in the pursuit,
yea, or in the possession or enjoyment, though unpursued, of all the
advantages that the \vorld affords. And I trust, dear brethren, you
are of the same opinion, and have the same desire and design, and fol-
low it both more diligently, and with better success. But I will stop
here, lest I should forget myself, and possibly run on till I have
wearied you, if I have not done that already ; and yet if it be so,
I shall hope for easy pardon at your hands, as of a fault I have not
been accustomed to heretofore, nor am likely hereafter to commit. To
the all-powerful grace of our great Lord and Master, I commend you
and your flocks, and your whole works among them, and do earnestly
entreat your prayers for your unworthiest, but most affectionate
brother and servant, R. LEIGHTON."
He was not less anxious about the good conduct of the clergy in his
new charge. He found the whole country filled with reports to their
disadvantage, which, as we have seen by Burnet's account, were far
from being ill founded. The Archbishop therefore appointed a com-
mittee, consisting, not of the members of his own synod alone, who
were too notorious themselves to be trusted with any such delicate
task, but comprising those who stood fairest in the Episcopal church,
Mr Charters, Mr Nairn, and Mr Aird, to take cognizance of the com-
plaints that might be lodged against them. So soon, however, as the
council were apprised of the measure, under pretext of countenancing
and assisting the committee in discharge of their duty, they nominated
Sir John Cochrane of Ochiltree, Sir Thomas Wallace, Sir John Cun-
ninghame, Sir John Harper, the provosts of Glasgow and Air, to at-
tend and act along with them, but in reality to prevent too rigid an
exercise of discipline, for they knew the west country curates could not
bear even the mild inspection of Leighton ; and the consequence was,
that the good intentions of the Archbishop were rendered almost en-
tirely abortive.
The committee met in September, when the parishioners were in-
vited to lodge their complaints, but their first acts went to narrow as
much as possible the avenues to redress ; they required, that whoever
did not fully substantiate by legal proof any complaint he brought
forward against a minister, should stand before the congregation cloth-
ed in sackcloth as a slanderer. This effectually prevented many, who
were aware of the difficulty of proving what they knew to be true,
from coming forward ; but there were some cases so flagrant, that the
curates rather preferred to take a little money and retire, than stand
trial, with all these advantages ; of the accusations that came before
them the result was, — one deposed, and four removed to other charges ;
what the crimes were that they visited thus heavily, we are not in-
formed, but if we may judge from one case which they dismissed
without reproof, they were no trifles.
It is thus recorded by Kirkton, who was no friend to Leighton, and
reflects not more discredit on the unworthiness of the committee, than
honour on the zeal of Leighton. — " One Jeffray, curat of Maybole,
sometime before alleadged he hade been assaulted for his life by his
parishioners, and this he proved by producing a book, which hade been
contused by a pistoll ball, and this book he alleadged hade saved his
life ; for he said he hade it upon his breast, betwix his uppercoat and
his doublet, but his uppercoat was neither pierced nor contused. How-
ever he brought his complaint against his people, before the committee
that sat at Air about that time. This he did in hopes to get his paroch
fyned in lOOlib. English, and the money to himself; but because he
not only failed in his evidence, but by the circumstance of the action
made all Scotland say he hade contused the book with his own pistoll,
no money he got, but the hatred of the people. These thinking they
may now have justice before this goodly purgeing committee, accuse
him there, and prove him guilty of many gross scandals, such as swear-
ing, strikeing, fighting and drunkenness, notwithstanding all which,
the committee absolved him, which made Leighton so much ashamed,
that out of the plenitude of his power, he thought fit to forbid him the
exercise of his ministry."
For some time Leighton continued to reside partly at Dumblane,
and partly at Glasgow, but being consecrated in the month of October,
he took full possession of the Archbishopric, and went to reside in the
city of Glasgow. His predecessor had used every violent method to
rathe people to attend the ministrations of the vile, immoral, and
Derate crew of curates who filled the pulpits in the west, and when
the soldiers left his diocese, lamented that they had carried the Gospel
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. xxxvil
along with them ! He proceeded upon a very different plan. Soon
after his settlement he held a synod of his clergy. As was to be expect-
ed, their churches were deserted, and themselves despised ; and never
considering that their own conduct, and want of ministerial talents,
were the true reasons of their being treated with contempt by a well-
informed and a religious people, they had expected that their new
Right Reverend Father would, like the former, collect their scattered
flocks by the aid of military evangelists : — He preached to them, and
in his discourses, both public and private, exhorted them to look up
more to God, to consider themselves as the ministers of the cross of
Christ, to bear the contempt and ill usage they met with, as a cross
laid on them for the exercise of their faith and patience ; to lay aside
all the appetites of revenge, to humble themselves before God, to have
many days for frequent fasting and prayer, and to meet often together,
that they might quicken and assist one another in these holy exercises,
and then they might expect blessings from heaven upon their labours :
"This (adds Burnet,) \vas a new strain to the clergy, — they had no-
thing to say against it, but it was a comfortless doctrine to them ! "
There was no quartering of soldiers, and no levying of fines, — so
they went home as little edified with their new Bishop, as he was
with them.
Grieved at the low state of his Episcopal clergy, the good man
looked with an eye of longing regard to his former esteemed and pious
co-presbyter , visited several of the indulged ministers, for the pur-
pose of persuading them to listen to propositions of peace, but he found
the truth of Solomon's observation, that " a brother offended is harder
to be won than a strong city, and their contentions are like the bars
of a castle." He told them that some of their number would quickly
be sent for to Edinburgh, where conciliatory terms would be offered
them, — that they would be met in sincerity, and without artifice, and
if they in return would cordially acquiesce, the concessions would be
turned into laws, and all the vacancies would be filled up with their bre-
thren. The ministers who had suffered severely, and were well acquaint-
ed with the character of the Scottish rulers, both civil and ecclesias-
tical, whose whole conduct towards them had been anunifofrm system
of oppression and deceit, received the Archbishop's communications
with great coolness ; they suspected the proffer to be, what we now
know it to have been, upon the part of government, a snare to entrap
and to divide them; and they answered with prudent caution, that it
was a matter of general concern to the whole body, in which they as
individuals could do nothing.
Although it might have been anticipated, yet the reception he met
with grieved and discouraged Leighton, who began to lose heart in a
negociation where he had to struggle with so many difficulties, tyranny
and insincerity on the part of the government, and well-grounded sus-
picion and conscientious scruples on the part of the sufferers. He did
not however give up his endeavours ; M'ith him it was a labour of love,
and however much mistaken in his views, he was without doubt sin-
cerely aiming at the blessing pronounced on the peace-makers. At his
E °F
request Lauderdale wrote to some of the most eminent of the Indulged
ministers in his diocese, among whom were Mr Hutchison, Mr Wed-
derburn and Mr Baird, requiring them to attend a conference before
himself, Tweedale, and Kincardine, at Edinburgh, August 9. 1670.
Sharne would not appear, but Patterson (afterwards Archbishop of
Glasgow) was present along with Leighton :— the latter opened the
business by deploring the divisions that prevailed among them, and the
mischief they had done ; that souls were perishing while they were
contending about matters of infinitely less importance, and entreated
them to do each what lay in his power to heal so disastrous a breach :
for his own part he was convinced, that from the days of the apostles,
there always existed an order of bishops superior to presbyters in the
church, and that complete equality among clergymen had never been
heard of till the middle of the last century, when it was introduced
rather by accident than design ; yet in the proposition he had to make,
he would not insist upon this, — by his plan they would not be requir-
ed to surrender their opinions on that point, while they might unite
in preaching the Gospel, and carrying on all the ends of their minis-
try. They had moderators among them, which was no divine institu-
tion, but only a matter of order, the King therefore might name them ;
and making them constant, was certainly no such encroachment on
their rights, as should break the peace of the church ; nor did blessing
them with imposition of hands, when they entered upon their office,
imply any invalidity in their former ordination, — they were still mi-
nisters. Some imagined that a new authority was conferred, but they
would be required to submit to nothing more, than to their presidency,
and even as to that would be allowed to exonerate themselves, by pro-
testing as formally and publicly as they chose. — Hutchison replied: —
he said their opinion respecting a parity among ministers, was well
known, — that the Presidency now proposed, had formerly served to
introduce a lordly dominion in the Church, and however inconsider-
able their present pretensions might be, they would serve to pave the
way for future higherdemands, and therefore requested time to consider
and consult with his brethren.
A second meeting was accordingly appointed in November, when the
whole dined together by the Lord High Commissioner Lauderdale's
invitation. After dinner his Lordship joined them, in hopes that his
presence might awe the parties into mutual concession ; but when he
found that the Presbyterians were not prepared to surrender their
principles, he was with difficulty restrained from bursting out into one
of his outrageous fits of passion, by which he had latterly been accustomed
to overawe his political adversaries. Leighton, who knew how vain it
would be, persuaded him to rest quietly, and hear the ministers1 objec-
tions. They were the same as stated at the former meeting, in which
they had been confirmed by reflection and intercourse with the other
Presbyterians, who all coincided in opinion, that the accommo-
dation was merely a scheme to lull their vigilance asleep, and render
them subservient to the triumphant establishment of Episcopacy, when
the present supporters of Presbyterianism should be laid in the grava.
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTO1S. xxxlx
Thus the conference ended without being productive of any advan-
tage to the Archbishop's wished-for conciliation, — but the presbyterians
were not the only enemies to an adjustment, although perhaps the
only conscientious ones. Sharpe was violently against the accommo-
dation. Episcopacy, he exclaimed, was undermined; and the inferior
clergy, Burnet tells us, hated the whole thing, " for they thought, if the
Presbyterians were admitted into churches, they would be neglected.1'
When the conference ended, Leighton did not despair ; he knew the
aversion the people had to come to any terms with the profligate clergy
of a persecuting church, and he also knew the influence which their
decided opinions in this matter had upon the ministers. He therefore
adopted another -method for attaining his darling object, and endeavour-
ed to engage them upon his side ; he could get no assistance from his
own diocese. " The Episcopal clergy in the west could not argue
much for any thing, and would not at all argue in favour of a pro-
position they hated ;" but he employed six divines of that persuasion,
of a higher character, and from a different quarter, — Messrs. Burnet,
Charters, Nairn, Aird, Cook, and Paterson, to perambulate the country,
preach in the vacant churches, and explain to their hearers the grounds
of the accommodation. They were tolerably, not numerously attended,
and they had little success in the object of their mission; they had to
do with a people who understood the subject, and who seem to have
astonished the Episcopalians. " We were indeed amazed to see a poor
commonalty,1'1 says one of their number, " so capable to argue upon
points of government, and on the bounds to be set to the power of princes
in matters of religion ; upon all these topics they had texts of scripture
at hand, and were ready with their answers to any thing that was said
to them. This measure of knowledge was spread even among the
meanest of them, their cottagers and their servants. They were in-
deed vain of their knowledge, much conceited of themselves, and were
full of a most entangled scrupulosity, so that they found and made dif-
ficulties to every thing that could be laid before them."
Another attempt was yet again made by Leighton for accommoda-
tion. But at the very moment when he was holding out proffers of
friendship, the parliament were enacting statutes of blood ! Can it be
at all wonderful in such a case, that the negociations terminated un-
fortunately? His opponents knew, that however they might be disposed
to trust him, not the smallest confidence could be placed in his asso-
ciates. They notwithstanding met him, first at Paisley, where twenty-
six or thirty Presbyterian ministers were present. There some small
alteration was made in his overtures, but Messrs. Hutchison, Wedder-
burn, Baird, and their companions, still perceived the horns of the mitre,
and, with the old fathers of Presbytery, refused to accept them, even
when " busket ever sae bonnily."
Two meetings upon the llth and 26th January 1671, atHolyrood-
house, closed the conferences. In one of these Leighton offered to dis-
pute for Episcopacy against Presbytery ; but this being illegal, and
what might have subjected his opponent to a capital punishment, Mr
Hutchison refused. On which Burnet, who was present, appearing to
triumph, Mr Wedderburn declared he would accept the challenge, if
LIFE OF
the Lord Chancellor would authorize him ; but his Lordship declining,
no more was said upon the subject.
Finding all his endeavours to promote peace and concord ineffectual,
and his plans either thwarted, or at least not seconded by those from
whom he might have expected support, he resolved, as infirmities were
beginning to threaten him, to retire from a field in which there was
no prospect of usefulness. He was suspected by the high Episcopalian
party, and had no influence with the Presbyterians ; and in reply to
the arguments of Burnet for his continuing in that station, he said,
" his work seemed to be at an end; he had no more to do, unless he
had a mmd to please himself with the lazy enjoying a good revenue.11
A mode of spending the residue of life very different from what he
contemplated. " Our joint business," said he in a letter to his sister, ap-
parently written about this time, " is to die daily to this world and
self, that what little remains of our life, we may live to him that died
for us. For myself, to what purpose is it to tell you, what the bearer
can, that I grow old and sickly, and though I have here great retire-
ment, as great, and probably greater than I could readily find any
where else, yet I am still panting after a retreat from this place, and
all public charge, and next to rest in the grave. It is the pressingest
desire I have of any thing I have in this world, that I might be with
you or near you. But our heavenly Father, we quietly resigning all
to him, both knows and will do what is best.11 This letter is dated
from Dumblane, to which place he delighted to resort during the in-
tervals of his Archiepiscopal labours, and whence he -wrote the follow-
ing admirable pastoral letter to his synod. — " REVEREND BRETHREN,
It is neither a matter of much importance, nor can I yet give you
a particular and satisfying account of the reasons of my absence from
your meeting, which, I trust, with the help of a little time, will clear
itself : But, I can assure you, I am present with you in my most af-
fectionate wishes of the gracious presence of that Holy Spirit amongst
you, and within you all, who alone can make this and all your meet-
ings, and the whole work of your ministry, happy and successful, to
the good of souls, and His glory that bought them with his own blood.
And I doubt not that your own great desire, each for yourself, and all
for one another, is the same ; and that your daily and great employ-
ment is, by incessant and fervent prayer, to draw down from above
large supplies and increases of that blessed Spirit, which our Lord and
Master hath assured us that our heavenly Father will not fail to give
to them that ask it. And how extreme a negligence and folly were it
to want so rich a gift for want of asking, especially in those devoted
to so high and holy a service, that requires so great degrees of that
*pmt of holiness and divine love to purify their minds, and to raise
iem above their senses and this present world ! Oh ! my dear Bre-
hren, what are we doing, that suffer our souls to creep and grovel on
this earth, and do so little aspire to the heavenly life of Christians, and
more eminently of the messengers and ministers of God, as stars, yea,
as an^s,(w. he hath made spirits, and his ministers a fame of
.;,/ oi T f^ S°Uls t0 be found umongst «s> that represent their
own original, that are possessed with pure and sublime apprehend
OJ13
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. xli
of God, the Father of Spirits, and are often raised to the astonishing
contemplation of his eternal and blessed being, and his infinite holi-
ness, and greatness, and goodness ; and are accordingly burnt up with
ardent love ! And where that holy fire is wanting, there can be no sa-
crifice, whatsoever our invention, or utterance, or gifts may be, and
how blameless soever the externals of our life may be, and even our
hearts free from gross pollutions ; for it is scarce to be suspected, that
any of us will suffer any of those strange, yea, infernal fires of amb\
tion, or avarice, or malice, or impure lusts and sensualities, to burn
within us, which would render us priests of idols, of airy nothings,
and of dunghill gods, yea, of the very god of the world, the prince of
darkness. Let men judge us and revile us as they please, that im-
ports nothing at all ; but God forbid any thing should possess our
hearts but He that loved us, and gave himself for us ; for we know
we cannot be vessels of honour meet for the Master's use, unless we
purge ourselves from all Jilthiness ofjlesh and spirit, and empty our
hearts of all things beside him, and even of ourselves and our own will,
and have no more any desires nor delights, but his will alone, and his
glory, who is our peace, and our life, and our all. And, truly, I think
it were our best and wisest reflection, upon the many difficulties and
discouragements without us, to *be driven by them to live more within ;
as they observe of the bees, that when it is foul weather abroad, they
are busy in their hives. If the power of external discipline be ener-
vated in our hands, yet who can hinder us to try, and judge, and cen-
sure ourselves ; and to purge the inner temples, our own hearts, with
the more severity and exactness ? And if we be dashed and bespatter-
ed with reproaches abroad, to study to be the cleaner at home : And
the less we find of meekness and charity in the world about us, to pre-
serve so much the more of that sweet temper within our own hearts ;
blessing them that curse us, and praying for them that persecute us;
so shall we most effectually prove ourselves to be the children of our
heavenly Father, even to their conviction, that will scarce allow us,
in any sense, to be called his servants.
" As for the confusions and contentions that still abound and increase
in this Church, and threaten to undo it, I think our wisdom shall be,
to cease from man, and look for no help till we look more upwards,
and dispute and discourse less, and fast and pray more ; and so draw
down our relief from the God of order and peace, who made the hea-
vens and the earth.
" Concerning myself, I have nothing to say, but humbly to entreat
you to pass by the many failings and weaknesses you may have per-
ceived in me during my abode amongst you ; and if in any thing I
have injured or offended you, or any of you, in the management of
my public charge, or in private converse, I do sincerely beg your par-
don : Though, I confess, I cannot make any requital in that kind ;
for I do not know of any thing towards me, from any of you, that
needs a pardon in the least ; having generally paid me more kindness
and respect, than a much better or wiser man could either have ex-
pected or deserved. .Nor am I only a suitor for your pardon, but for
.Ill LIFE OF
the addition of a further charity, and that so great a one, that I have
nothing to plead for it, but that I need it much— your prayers. And
I am hopeful as to that, to make you some little, though very dispro-
portioned return ; for whatsoever becomes of me, (through the help of
God), while I live, you shall no one day of my life be forgotten by,
Your most unworthy, but most affectionate, Brother and Servant,
R. LEIGHTON.
"P. S. I do not see whom it can offend, or how any shall disapprove of
it, if you will appoint a fast throughout your bounds, to entreat a bless-
ing on the seed committed to the ground, and for the other grave causes
that are still the same they were the last year, and the urgency of them
no whit abated, but rather increased : but in this I prescribe nothing,
but leave it to your discretion and the direction of God."
He had found Lauderdale extremely unwilling to accept of his re-
signation, as that nobleman knew well the value of such a character
for supporting the already almost hopeless hierarchy in Scotland ; he
therefore, in summer 1673, repaired to London, and tendered it per-
sonally to the King. Charles, too, was averse to his retirement, but
the Archbishop was resolute, and his Majesty agreed, that if he would
continue another year upon trial, he should then be allowed to resign,
if still of the same mind. He returned 'rejoicing with the royal engage-
ment in writing, and observed to Dr Burnet, " that there was now
but one uneasy stage between him and rest, and he would wrestle
through it the best he could." His professional duties were performed
with his usual zeal and assiduity during the appointed time, at the
close of which he hastened to London, and cheerfully laid down his
high office, which some changes in the aspect of the political affairs in
Scotland, occasioned to be received without more difficulty.
Various reports were spread at the time respecting this transaction,
but there is no reason to suppose that the causes were other than
those which he has himself left on record. They have been preserved
in MS. in the University of Edinburgh, and areas follow :
"Whatsoever others may judge, they that know what past before my
engaging in the charge, will not, I believe, impute my retreat from it,
to levitie or unfixedness of mind, considering how often I declared be-
fore-hand, both by word and write, the great suspicion I had that my
continuance in it would be very short, neither is it from any sudden
passion or sullen discontent, that I have now resigned it, nor do I know
siny cause imaginable for any such thing, — but the true reasons of my
retiring are plainly and briefly these : 1st, The sense I have of the
dreadful weight of whatsoever regards the charge of souls ; and all
kind of spiritual inspection over people, but much more over ministers,
and withal of my own extreme unworthiness, and unfitness for so high
a station in the church ; and there is an Episcopal act that .is above
all the rest most formidable to me, the ordaining of ministers. 2rf, The
continuing and deeply increasing divisions and contentions, and many
other disorders of this church, and the little or no appearance of their
cure for our time, and the little hope amidst these contentions and dis-
;rs, of doing any thing in this station to promote the great design of
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. xliii
religion in the hearts and lives of men, which were the only worthy rea-
son of continuing in it, though it were with much pains and reluctance.
3rf, The earnest desire I have long had of a retired and private life,
which is now much increased by sicklyness and old age drawing on,
and the sufficient experience I have had of the folly and vanity of the
world.
" To add any further discourse, a large apology in this matter were to
no purpose, but,insteadof removingother mistakes and misconstructions,
would be apt to expose me to one more ; for it would look like too
much valuing, either of myself or of the world's opinion, both of which
I think I have so much reason to despise."
After he had retired from public life, he spent some time in a fare-
well visit to the University of Edinburgh, and the subjoined letters
accord with the feelings one loves to indulge in visiting, for the last
time, scenes in which the most active years of life have passed. The
first is to Mr Lightwater, his sister's husband, on the death of a belov-
ed child, — the other to a lady labouring under mental distress, but
to whom he was personally unknown.
" I am glad of your health, and the recovery of your little ones ; but
indeed it was a sharp stroke of a pen that told me your little Johnny
was dead, and I felt it truly more, than to my remembrance I did the
death of any child in my life-time. Sweet thing, and is he so quickly
laid to sleep ? Happy he ! Though we shall no more have the plea-
sure of his lisping and laughing, he shall have no more the pain of crying,
nor of being sick, nor of dying, and hath wholly escaped the trouble of
schooling and all the sufferings of boys, and the riper and deeper griefs
of upper years, this poor life being all along, nothing but a linked chain
of many sorrows and of many deaths. T ell my dear sister she is now so much
more akin to the other world ; and this will quickly be passed to us all.
John is but gone anhour or twosooner to bed as children used to do, and
we are undressing to follow. And the more we put off the love of the
present world and all things superfluous beforehand, we shall have the
less to do when we lie down. It shall refresh me to hear from you at your
leisure. — Sir, your affectionate brother, — R. LEIGHTON." f
" Madam, — Though I have not the honour to be acquainted with
your Ladyship, yet a friend of yours has acquainted me with your
condition, though I confess the unfittest of all men. He could have
imparted such a thing to none of greater secrecy, and withal of greater
sympathy and tender compassion, towards such as are exercised with
those kinds of conflicts ; as having been formerly acquainted with the
like myself, all sorts of sceptical and doubtful thoughts, touching those
great points, having not only past through my head, but some of them
have for some time sat more fast and painfully upon my mind ; but in
the name of the Lord they were at length quite dispelled and scattered.
And Oh ! that I could love and bless Him, who is my deliverer and
strength, my rock and fortress, where I have now found safety from
these incursions ; and I am very confident you shall shortly find the
same. Only wait patiently on the Lord, and hope in him, fo.- you
shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance ; and it is that
alone that can enlighten you, and clear your mind of all those fogs and
mists that now possess it, and calm the storms that are raised within it.
You do well to read good books that are proper for your help, but rather
the shortest and plainest, than the more tedious and voluminous, that
sometimes entangle a perplexed mind yet more, by gaping many more
questions, and answers, and arguments, than is needful ; but, above all,
still cleave to the incomparable spring of light and divine comfort, the
Holy Scriptures, evenin spite of all doubts concerning them. And when
you find your thoughts in disorder and at a loss, entertain nodisputewith
them by any means at that time, but rather divert from them to short
prayer, or to other thoughts, and sometimes well chosen company, or
the best you can have where you are ; and at some other time, when
you find yourself in a calmer and serener temper, and upon the vantage
ground of a little more confidence in God, then you may resume your
reasons against unbelief, yet so as to beware of casting yourself into
new disturbance. For when your mind is in a sober temper, there is
nothing so suitable to its strongest reason, nothing so wise and noble as
religion ; and to believe it is so rational, that, as now I am framed, I
am afraid that my belief proceeds too much from reason, and is not so
divine and spiritual as I would have it ; only when I find (as in some
measure, through the grace of God, I do) that it hath some real virtue
and influence upon my affections and track of life, I hope there is some-
what of a higher tincture in it. But, in point of reason, I am well
assured, that all I have heard from the wittiest atheists and libertines
in the world, is nothing but bold ravery and madness, and their whole
discourse a heap of folly and ridiculous nonsense. For what probable
account can they give of the wonderful frame of the visible world,
without the supposition of an eternal and infinite power, and wisdom,
and goodness, that formed it, and themselves, and all things in it ? And
what can they think of the many thousands of martyrs in the first age
of Christianity, that endured not simple death, but all the inventions
of the most exquisite tortures, for their belief of that most holy faith,
which, if the miracles that confirmed it had not persuaded them so, they
themselves had been thought the most prodigious miracles of madness in
all the world ? It is not want of reason on the side of religion that makes
fools disbelieve it, but the interest of their brutish lusts and dissolute lives
makes them wish it were not true : and there is this vast difference be-
twixt you and them ; they would gladly believe less than they do, and
you would also gladly believe more than they do : they are sometimes
pained and tormented with apprehensions that the doctrine of religion is
or may be true ; and you are perplexed with suggestions to doubt of it,
which are to you as unwilling and unwelcome as these apprehensions of
its truth are to them. Believe it, Madam, these different thoughts of
yours are not yours, but his that inserts them, and throws them as fiery
darts into your mind, and they shall assuredly be laid to his charge,
and not to yours. Think not that infinite goodness is ready to take
advantage of his poor creatures, and to reject and condemn those that,
against all the assaults made upon them, desire to keep their heart for
him, and to acknowledge him and to love him, and live to him. He
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. xlv
made us, and knows our mould, and as a father pities his children, pities
them that fear him : for he is their father, and the tenderest and kind-
est of all fathers ; and as a father pities his child when it is sick, and
in the rage and ravery of a fever, though it even utter reproachful
words against himself, shall not our dearest Father both forgive and
pity those thoughts in any child of his, that arise, not from any wilful
hatred of him, but are kindled of hell within them ? And no tempta-
tion hath befallen you in this, but that which has been incident to men,
and to the best of men ; and their heavenly Father hath not only for-
given them, but in due time hath given them an happy issue out of
them ; and so he will assuredly do to you. In the meantime, when
these assaults come thickest and violentest upon you, throw yourself
down at his foots* »ol, and say, " O God, Father of mercies, save me
from this hell within me. I acknowledge, I adore, I bless thee, whose
throne is in heaven, with thy blessed Son and crucified Jesus, and thy
Holy Spirit ; and also, though thou slay me, yet will I trust in thee ;
but I cannot think thou canst hate and reject a poor soul that desires
to love thee, and cleave to thee, so long as I can hold by the skirts of
thy garment until thou violently shake me off; which I am confident
thou wouldst not do, because thou art love and goodness thyself, and
thy mercies endure for ever." Thus, or in what other frame your soul
shall be carried to vent itself into his bosom, be assured your words,
yea, your silent sighs and breathings, shall not be lost ; but shall have
a most powerful voice, and ascend into his ear, and shall return to you
with messages of peace and love in due time ; and, in the meantime,
with secret supports, that you faint not, nor sink in these deeps that
threaten to swallow you up. But I have wearied you, instead of re-
freshing you. I will add no more, but that the poor prayers of one
of the unworthiest caitiffs in the world, such as they be, snail not be
wanting on your behalf, and he begs a share in yours ; for neither he,
nor any in the world, need that charity more than he does. Wait on
the Lord, and be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart ;
wait, I say, on the Lord."*
Finally retired from public life, he removed, after a short stay in
Edinburgh, to Broadhurst in Sussex, an estate belonging to Mr Light-
water, his sister's husband, and with these dear relations he remained
till within a short period of his decease. Little is recorded of these
years, and it would be in vain to fill with conjectural speculations, a
space of which we are only told, that it was occupied with deeds of
charity and labours of love ; that he preached frequently in the pulpits
to which he had access, and that here, as in all his other abodes, the
poor and the ignorant were the objects of his peculiar care. The
serene tenor of his course \vas however once interrupted by an unex-
pected call from the king to resume his high functions in Scotland-
The extreme of persecution having been tried in that country, only pro-
duced its usual and natural effects, the people became more exasperated
against a church to which they were thus attempted to be dragooned.
• Jerment's Life of Leighton and Works, vol. II, p. 458.
xlvi OF
And the Duke of Monmouth, who had witnessed the unfeeling tyranny
of the prelates, and the unmitigated misery of the people, during his
residence there, influenced botli by compassion and political motives,
made an effort to introduce milder measures ; and the consequence was
the following letter from Charles :— " WINDSOR, July 1.6. 1679. MY
LORD,— I am resolved to try what clemency can prevail upon such
in Scotland as will not conform to the government of the church there ;
for effecting of which design, I desire that you may go down to Scot-
land with your first conveniency, and take all possible pains for per-
suading all you can, of both opinions, to as much mutual correspon-
dence and concord as may be; and send me, from time to time,
characters both of men and things. In order to this design, I shall
send you a precept for two hundred pounds Sterling upon my exchequer,
till you resolve how to serve me in a stated employment. — Your lov-
ing friend, — CHARLES R. — For the Bishop of Dunblane" But
the power of Monmouth declining shortly after, the proposition fell
to the ground, deliverance came to the presbyterians from another
quarter, and the venerable Bishop was left quietly to pursue the method
of life that he loved, to meditate upon eternity, and to prepare for it.
The scriptures were daily the men of his council, and the book of Psalms
was especially a portion which he perused with delight himself, and re-
commended to others. The Sabbath was his delight, and no slight hind-
rance could detain him from the house of prayer. Upon one occasion,
when he was indisposed, the day being stormy, his friends urged him,
on account of his health, not to venture to. church : " Were the weather
fair," was the reply, " I would stay at home, but since it is otherwise,
I must go, lest I be thought to countenance by my example the irreli-
gious practice of allowing trivial hindrances to keep me back from
public worship." But perhaps the highest eulogium that can be passed
on the uniform holiness of his character, is the effect that it had on
his brother-in-law, who upon daily beholding it exclaimed, " If none
shall go to heaven but so holy a man as this, what will become of me ?"
and became so deeply impressed with a sense of the importance of
pressing forward unto perfection, that he relinquished a profitable busi-
ness, lest it should too much entangle him, and devoted his remaining
years to the care of his soul.
In 1684 Leightou was induced to come to London upon a visit
of mercy. Lord Perth, who had participated in all the atrocities
of the times, arrived in the English capital to be invested with
the office of Lord High Chancellor of Scotland, and whether from
some temporary compunctious feeling or some pretensions to it, had
earnestly requested Burnet to procure him an interview : " I
thought," says the Bishop,* « that angelic man might have awaken-
ed m him some of those good principles which he seemed once to have,
and which were now totally extinguished in him ;" and at his urgent
desire Leighton came to London. «• I was amazed to see him," con-
Burnet, "at about seventy, look so fresh and well, that age
* History of his Own Times , Anno 1684.
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. xlvii
seemed as it might stand still with him ; his hair was still black, and
all his motions were lively : he had the same quickness of thought and
strength of memory, hut above all, the same heat and life of devotion,
that I had ever seen in him. When I took notice to him upon my
first seeing him, how well he looked, he told me he was near his end
for all that, and his work and journey both were now almost done.
This at that time made an impression on me. He was the next day
taken with an oppression, and as it seemed with a cold and with stitches,
which was indeed a pleurisy. The [day after] Leighton sunk so that
both speech and sense went away of a sudden, and he continued pant-
ing about twelve hours, and then died without pangs or convulsions.
I was by him all the while.. Thus I lost him who for so many years
had been the chief guide of my whole life." He died in the seventy-fourth
year of his age, and was interred at Horsted Keynes, where his brother
Sir Ellis had been buried only a short time before ; an unosten-
tatious inscription marks the place where his dust rests in hope. — De-
positum, Robert Leigh tounj Archiepiscopi Glasguensis apud Scotos, qui
objt xxv die Junij Anno Dmj 1684, JStatis suae 74.
Two remarkable circumstances attended his death. He used often
to say, that if he were to choose a place to die in, it should be an inn,
it looking so like a pilgrim's going home, to whom this world was all
as an inn. It was his opinion also, that the officious tenderness and
care of friends, was an entanglement to a dying man, and that the un-
concerned attendance of those who could be procured in such a place,
would give less disturbance : — this wish was granted, it was at the
Bell Inn, Warwick-lane, where he expired. Another was, that while
Bishop in Scotland, he never harassed his people for his stipend, small
as it was, not above L.130 per annum at Dunblane, and only about
L. 400 at Glasgow, but generally took what they were pleased to pay,
by which means considerable arrears were due when he left, and the
last remittance which he had reason to expect, arrived about six weeks
before his death. His will, which had been written a short time before,
shows however, that although not rich, he yet had something to leave, —
it is subjoined. " At BROADHURST, Feb. 17- 1683. — Being at present
(thanks be to God) in my accustomed health of body, and soundness
of mind and memory, I do write this with my own hand, to signify,
that when the day I so much wished and longed for is come, that shall
set me free from this prison of clay wherein I am lodged, what I leave
behind me of money, goods or chattels, or whatsoever of any kind was
called mine, I do devote to charitable uses ; partly such as I have re-
commended particularly to my sister, Mrs Sapphira Lightwater, and
her son, Master Edward Lightwater of Broad hurst, and the remainder
to such other charities as their own discretion shall think fittest. Only,
I desire each of them to accept of a small token of a little grateful ac-
knowledgement of the great kindness and trouble they have had with
me for some years that I was their guest, the proportion whereof (to
remove their scruple of taking it) I did expressly name to themselves,
while I was with them, before the writing hereof, and likewise after I
have wrote it. But they need not give any account of it to another
xlviil LIFE OF
the whole being left to their disposal. Neither, I hope, will any other
friends or relations of mine take it unkind that I bequeath no legacy to
any of them, designing, as is said, so entirely to charity the whole re-
mains. Only, my books I leave and bequeath to the Cathedral of
Dunblane in Scotland, to remain there for the use of the clergy of that
diocese. I think I need no more, but that I appoint my said sister,
Mrs Sapphira Lightwater of Broadhurst, and her son, Master Edward
Lightwater, joint executors of this my will, — if they be both living at
my decease, as I hope they shall ; or if that one of them shall be sur-
viving, that one is to be the sole executor of it. I hope none will
raise any question or doubt about this upon any omission, or any in-
formality of expression in it ; being, for prevention thereof, as plainly
expressed as it could be conceived by me. And this I declare to be
the last Will and Testament of— ROBERT LEIGHTON."
But his liberality was not deferred till he could no longer hold a grasp
of his money. He allotted every penny beyond what was barely neces-
sary for his personal expenses, to pious and benevolent purposes. When
principal of Edinburgh University, he founded a bursary, and for that
purpose gave L. 150 to the city : when at Glasgow he allotted to the
poor of Dumblane, a considerable sum due to him by a gentleman in
that place; he appropriated L. 300 for three bursaries in Glasgow Uni-
versity, and as much for maintaining four old men in St. Nicholas
Hospital. During his retirement in Sussex, " he distributed," says
Dr Burnet, " all he had in charities, choosing rather to give it through
other peopled hands than his own : for I was his almoner in London.'1
To enable him to be charitable, he was abstemious : — his sister, we are
told, once asked him to eat of some delicate dish ; he declined, saying.
" What is it good for but to please a wanton taste, — one thing forborne
is better than twenty taken." But, asked his sister, why were these
things bestowed upon us ? To see, he answered, how well we can for-
bear them, — and then added, " Shall I eat of this delicacy while a poor
man wants his dinner ?" The same sister, upon another occasion-, ima-
gining he carried indifference to worldly things too far, remarked to him,
" If you had a wife and children, you would not act thus." His reply
was, « I know not how it would be, but I know how it should be, —
Enoch walked with God, and begat sons and daughters." Humility
was one of the most distinguishing features of his character, of which
many instances are given in the preceding pages, and so conspicuous-
ly did it shine, that, in order to dim its lustre, his enemies were con-
strained to doubt its reality, and describe it as affected ; but it was too
unostentatious, too general, and too consistent to be false. Indeed,
personal holiness was the main object of his life, so much so, that when
he heard of any changing their profession of religion, he would ask
when they became holier ?
His natural temper was singularly gentle and amiable, and en-
ired him to all with whom he had any intercour.se, and over-
came in many of his opponents the prejudices his dereliction of
their party inspired; though in the latter part of his life, even from
the partial statements of his pupil and friend, he does not seem to
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. xlix
have been greatly enamoured of the change he had made. " He
lamented oft to me the stupidity that he observed among the commons
of England, who seemed to be much more insensible in matters of re-
ligion than the commons of Scotland were. He retained still a pecu-
liar inclination to Scotland, and if he had seen any prospect of doing
good there, he would have gone, and lived, and died among them."
" He looked on the state the church of England was in, with very
melancholy reflections, and was very uneasy at an expression then used,
that it was the best constituted church in the world. He thought it
was truly so with relation to the doctrine, the worship, and the main
part of her government. But as to the administration, both with re-
lation as to the Ecclesiastical courts, and the pastoral care, he looked
on it as one of the most corrupt he had ever seen. He thought we
looked like the fair carcase of a body without a spirit, without that
zeal, that strictness of life, and that laboriousness in the clergy, that
became us." His conversation is represented as having been eminent-
ly heavenly and spiritual, " and he had brought himself," says the
writer so often referred to, " into so composed a gravity, that I never
savr him laugh, and but seldom smile, and he kept himself in such a
constant recollection, that I do not remember that I ever heard him
say one idle word." Most probably the state of the country and the
church, tended greatly to produce this general solemnity of manner,
for he was deeply affected with public events. How he could improve
little incidents is well illustrated by an answer he made to a remark of
some of his friends, " You have been to hear a sermon." " I met a ser-
mon, a sermon de facto, for I met a corpse, and rightly and profit-
ably are the funeral rites observed, when the living lay it to heart."
Bishop Leighton's stature was small, and his countenance benignant.
That he was slender, we learn from an exclamation of his, when told
that a corpulent person had died : " How is it that A has broke
through these goodly brick walls, while I am kept in by a bit flimsy,
deal ?" He would never sit for his picture, and the engravings we
have of him, were done from one taken by stealth, but which those
who knew him pronounced to be not a bad likeness, though it did not
do full justice to the mild expression of the original.
It now only remains to notice his theological works. Their praise is
in all the churches. Episcopalians, Presbyterians, and Independents,
have all concurred to express their high admiration of their unrivalled e>: .
cellence ; and without adventuring on the superfluous work of giving
any lengthened opinion of my own, I subjoin the opinions of men well
qualified to judge.
"Perhaps," saysMrOrme, "there is no expository work in the English
language equal altogether to the exposition of St Peter. It is rich in
evangelical sentiment and exalted devotion. The meaning is seldom
missed, and often admirably illustrated. There is learning with-
out its parade ; theology divested of systematic stiffness ; and elo-
quence in a beautiful flow of unaffected language and appropriate ima-
d
j LIFE OF
gery. To say more would be unbecoming, and less could not be
said with justice." — Orme's Bibliotheca Biblica.
" The modesty of Leighton was the more comely and ornamental,
that it was joined to high intellectual capacity and attainments, and
to the graces of elocution. His acquaintance with literature was va-
rious and profound. Of a quick and capacious understanding ; of an
elevated genius, and refined taste ; of a vigorous and elegant fancy ;
of a retentive memory, — he drank deep at the springs of knowledge,
by close application, and almost incessant study. Our author had per-
used with care and delight the Roman and the Greek classics. His
Latin would do honour to the Augustan age ; and is not inferior in
purity and strength to the style of the learned and polished Buchanan.
The Hebrew was quite familiar to him, and he possessed a critical
knowledge of that concise and energetic tongue. He understood French
well ; and could both speak and write the language with correctness
and ease. He knew philosophy in the greater part of its branches ;
and had read with attention and profit, history sacred and profane,
civil and ecclesiastical, ancient and modern. Divinity, however, was
his principal study; and he was truly a master in Israel. Of the
most of these rare and useful endowments his writings afford abundant
and incontrovertible evidence.
" Leighton used all his learning as an handmaid to religion, and em-
ployed it in the service of the sanctuary. He derived Theological
knowledge, not so much from human systems, as from the sacred
oracles ; and that knowledge received a mellowness from his own na-
tural and gracious placidity. At times, a Boanerges in sentiment ; he
was usually, both in sentiment and style, a son of consolation. The
cotemporary bishops of the North, compared with him, were dwarfs
in mind, and wolves in disposition. There were bright constellations
of divines, both in England and Scotland. But Leighton shone pre-
eminent above the majority ; and was a star of the first magnitude.
Among the first preachers of his own day, he has never been surpassed,
taking him all in all, since that period. More sententious than Rey-
nolds, more refined than Howe, more eloquent than Baxter ; less diffuse
and argumentative, but more practical than Charnock ; less profound,
but clearer and more savoury than Owen ; less ingenious, but sweeter
and more sublime than Hall,— he will not suffer by comparison with
any divine, in any zge"—Jermenfs Life of Leighton.
"He was gifted with a capacious mind, a quick apprehension, a re-
tentive memory, a lively fancy, a correct taste, a sound ajid discrimi-
itmg judgment. All these excellencies are conspicuous in almost every
page of his writings ; for in Leighton's compositions there is an ex-
traordinary evenness. One is not recruited here and there, by a strik-
ng thought or a brilliant sentence, from the fatigue of toiling through
many a heavy paragraph, but « one spirit in them rules ;" and while
s occasionally mounts to a surpassing height, he seldom or never sinks
flatness. The reason is, that he is always master of his subject,
ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. H
with a clear conception of his own meaning and purpose, and a perfect
command of all the subsidiary materials ,• and still more, that his soul
is always teeming with those divine inspirations, which seem vouch-
safed only from time to time to ordinary mortals.
" Had the mind of Leighton been less exact and perspicacious, the
rapid and multitudinous flow of his ideas would have rendered him a
writer of more than common obscurity ; for he was impatient of those
rules of art, by which theological compositions are usually confined.
No man, indeed, was better acquainted with scholastic canons and dia-
lectical artifices ; but he towered above them. At the same time his
argument never limps, although the form be not syllogistic, — the cor-
rectness of his mind preventing material deviation from a lucid and con-
secutive order. There is a logical continuity of thought to be traced
in his writings ; and his ideas, perhaps, may not be unaptly compared
to flowers in a garden, so luxuriantly over-hanging trellises, as to ob-
viate the primness and formality of straight lines, without however
straying into a wantonness of confusion, that would perplex the ob-
servers eye.
" It is not to be denied, that a more scientific arrangement in Leigh-
ton's compositions would have greatly assisted the memory of his read-
ers : and let those who come short of him in intellectual power, beware
of imitating his laxity of method. The rules of art, though cramps to
vigour, are crutches to feebleness. My impression is, however, that
the effusions of our author's mind, disposed more artificially, would
have lost in richness what they gained in precision, and the gain would
have been over-balanced by the loss. From the structure and flow of
his discourses, I should conjecture it to have been his custom, when he
had determined to write on any subject, to ruminate on it till his mind
had assumed a corresponding form and tone ; after which he poured
forth his conceptions on paper without pause or effort, like the irre-
pressible droppings of the loaded honeycomb. So imbued was his holy
soul with the principles of the gospel, or so completely, I might better
say, was the whole scheme of revelation amalgamated in the menstruum
of his powerful intellect, that whatever he wrote on sacred subjects
came forth with an easy flow, clear, serene, and limpid. In all his
compositions there is a delightful consistency ; nothing indigested and
turbid ; no dissonances of thought, no jarring positions ; none of the
fluctuations, the ambiguities, the contradictions which betray a penury
of knowledge, or an imperfect assimilation of it with the understanding.
Equally master of every part of the evangelical system, he never steps
out of his way to avoid what encounters him, or to pick up what is not
obvious : he never betakes himself to the covers of unfairness or igno-
rance ; but he unfolds, with the utmost intrepidity and clearness, the
topic that conies before him.
" Moreover, it not a little enhances the value of his writings, that he
si fully aware how far the legitimate range of human inquiry extends,
and what is the boundary Divine wisdom hath affixed to man's inqui-
sitiveness. While the half-learned theologian beats about in the dark,
and vainly attempts a passage through metaphysical labyrinths, which
m LIFE OF LEIGHTON.
it is the part of sober wisdom not to enter, the sagacious Leighton
distinctly sees the line, beyond which speculation is folly: and in
stopping at that limit he displays a promptness of decision, com-
mensurate with his unwavering certainty in proceeding up to it.
" Such a writer as Leighton was incapable of parade. He was too
intent upon his subject to be choice of words and phrases, and his works
discover a noble carelessness of diction, which in some respects enhances
their beauty. Their strength is not wasted by excessive polishing :
their glow is not impaired by reiterated touches. But, though he was
little curious in culling words and compounding sentences, his language
is generally apt and significant, sufficient for the grandeur of his con-
ceptions, without encumbering them. If not always grammatically
correct, it is better than mere correctness would make it ; more forcible
and touching ; attracting little notice to itself, but leaving the reader
to the full impulse of those ideas of which it is the vehicle. Leighton
is great by the magnificence of thought ; by the spontaneous emana-
tions of a mind replete with sacred knowledge, and bursting with
seraphic affections ; by that pauseless gush of intellectual splendour,
in which the outward shell, the intermediate letter, is eclipsed and al-
most annihilated, that full scope may be given to the mighty effulgence
of the informing spirit/'1 — Pearson^ Life of Leighton
PRACTICAL COMMENTARY
UPON THE
FIRST EPISTLE GENERAL OF ST. PETER.
CHAP. I. VER. 1.
Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ, to the strangers
scattered throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia,
Asia, and Bithynia.
JL HE grace of God In the heart of man, is a
tender plant in a strange unkindly soil ; and
therefore cannot well prosper and grow, with-
out much care and pains, and that of a skil-
ful hand, and that hath the art of cherishing
it : For this end, hath God given the con-
stant ministry of the word to his Church,
not only for the first work of conversion, but
also for confirming and increasing of his
grace in the hearts of his children.
And though the extraordinary ministers of
the gospel, the apostles, had principally the
former for their charge, the converting of un-
believers, Jews and Gentiles, and so the
planting of churches, to be after kept, and
watered by others, as the apostle intimates,
1 Cor. iii. 6, yet did they not neglect the
other work of strengthening the grace of God
begun in the new converts of those times,
both by revisiting them, and exhorting them
in person, as they could, and by the supply
of their writing to them when absent.
And the benefit of this extends (not by
accident, but by the purpose and good pro-
vidence of God) to the Church of God in all
succeeding ages.
This excellent Epistle (full of evangelical
doctrine and apostolical authority) is a brief,
and yet very clear, summary, both of the
consolations and instructions needful for the
encouragement and direction of a Christian
Mg journey to heaven, elevating his
thoughts and desires to that happiness, and
strengthening him against all opposition in
the way, both that of corruption within, and
temptations and afflictions from without.
The heads of doctrine contained in it are
many, but the main that are most insisted
on are these three, faith, obedience, and pa*
tience ; to establish them in believing, to
direct them in doing, and comfort them in
suffering. And because die first is the
ground-work and support of the other two,
this first chapter is much on that, persuad-
ing them of the truth of that mystery they
had received and did believe, viz. their re-
demption and salvation by Christ Jesus ;
that inheritance of immortality bought by
his blood for them, and the evidence and
stability of their right and title (to it.
And then he uses this belief, this assu-
rance of the glory to come, as the great per-
suasive to the other two, both to holy obe-
dience and to constant patience, since no-
thing can be too much, either to forego or
undergo, either to do or to suffer, for the
attainment of that blessed state.
And as from the consideration of that object,
and matter of the hope of believers, he encou-
rages to patience, and exhorteth to holiness
in this chapter in general ; so in the following
chapters he expresses more particularly, both
the universal and special duties of Christians,
both in doing and suffering, often setting be-
fore them to whom he wrote, the matchless ex-
ample of the Lord Jesus, and the greatness
of their engagement to follow him.
In the first two verses, we have the in-
scription and salutation) in the usual style
of the apostolic epistles.
A.
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP, i
The inscription hath the author and the
address, from whom, and to whom. The
author of this epistle is designed by his
name, Peter, and his calling, an apostle.
We shall not insist upon his name, that
it was imposed by Christ, and what is its
signification ; this the evangelists teach us, /
St John, i. 42 ; St Matt. xvi. 18., &c.
By that which is spoken of him in divers
passages of the Gospel, he is very remarkable
amongst the appstles, both for his graces
and his failings ; eminent in zeal and cou-
rage ; yet stumbling oft in his forwardness,
and once grossly falling : And these by the
providence of God being recorded in scrip-
ture, give a check to the excess of Rome's
conceit concerning this apostle. Their ex-
tolling and exalting him above the rest, is
not for his cause, and much less to the ho-
nour of his Lord and Master Jesus Christ,
for he is injured and dishonoured by it ; but
it is in favour of themselves, as Alexander
distinguished his two friends, that the one
was a friend of Alexander, the other a
friend of the king. That preferment they
give this apostle is not in good will to Peter,
but in the desire of Primacy. But whatso-
ever he was, they would be much in pain to
prove Rome's right to it by succession. And
if ever it had any such right, we may confi-
dently say, it has forfeited it long ago, by
departing from St Peter's footsteps, and from
his faith, and retaining too much those
things wherein he was faulty : namely,
His unwillingness to hear of, and consent
to Christ's sufferings, — his Master, spare
thyself, or Far be it from thee, — in those
they are like him : For thus they would dis-
burden and exempt the Church from the
Cross, from the real cross of afflictions, and,
instead of that, have nothing but painted, or
carved, or gildsd crosses ; these they are
content to embrace, and worship too, but
cannot endure to hear of the other. Instead
of the cross of affliction, they make the
crown or mitre the badge of their church,
and will have it known by prosperity and
outward pomp, and so turn the church mili-
tant into the church triumphant, not consi-
dering that it is Babylon's voice, not the
church's, / sit as a queen, and shall see no
sorrow.
Again, they are like him in his saying on
the m»unt at Christ's transfiguration, when
he knew not what he said, It is good to be
here : So they have little of the true glory
of Christ, but the false glory of that mo-
narchy on their seven hills, It is good to be
here, say they.
Again, in their undue striking with the
sword, not the enemies, as he, but the faithful
friends and servants of Jesus Christ. But
to proceed.
We see here Peter's office or tide, an
Apostle, not chief Bishop. Some in their
glossing have been so impudent as to add
that beside the text ; though chap. v. 4, he
gives that title to Christ alone, and to him.
self only fellow Elder, and here, not Prince
of the Apostles, but an Apostle, restored
and re-established after his fall, by repen-
tance, and by Christ himself after his own
death and resurrection, John xxi. Thus we
have in our apostle a singular instance of hu-
man frailty on the one side, and of the sweet-
ness of divine grace on the other. Free and
rich grace it is indeed, that forgives and
swallows up multitudes of sins, and of great-
est sins, not only sins before conversion, as
to St Paul, but foul offences committed after
conversion, as to David, and to this apos-
tle ; not only once raising them from the
dead, but when they fall, stretching out the
same hand, and raising them again, and re-
storing them to their station, and comforting
them in it by his free Spirit, as David
prays. Not only to cleanse polluted clay,
but to work it into vessels of honour, yea, of
the most defiled shape to make the most re-
fined vessels, not vessels of honour of ihs
lowest sort, but for the highest and most ho-
nourable services, vessels to bear his own
precious Name to the nation? ; making the
most unworthy and the most unfit, fit by his
grace to be his messengers.
Of Jesus Christ.} Both as the Begin,
ning and End of his apostleship, as Christ is
called Alpha and Omega, Rev. ii. 11, cho-
sen and called by him, and called to this,
to preach him, and salvation wrought by
him.
Apostle of Jesus Christ. ] Sent by him,
and the message no other but his Name, to
make that known. And what this apostle-
ship was then, after some extraordinary way,
befitting these first times of the gospel, that
the ministry of the word in ordinary is now,
and therefore an employment of more diffi-
culty and excellency than is usually con-
ceived by many, not only of those that look
upon it, but even of those that are exercised
in it, to be ambassadors for the greatest of
Kings, and upon no mean employment, that
great treaty of peace and reconcilement be-
twixt Him and mankind, 2 Cor. v. 20.
The Epistle is directed to the elect, who
are described here, by their temporal and by
their spiritual conditions. The one hath
very much dignity and comfort in it ; but
the other hath neither, but rather the con-
trary of both : And therefore the apostle, in-
tending their comfort, mentions the one but
in passing, to signify to whom particularly
he sent his Epistle. But the other is that
which he would have their thoughts dwell
upon, and therefore he prosecutes it in his
following discourse. And if we look to the
order of the words, their temporal condition
is but interjected ; for it is said, To the
Elect, first, and then To the strangers scat-
VKK. 1. I
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
tereil, &c. And lie would have this as it I
were drowned in the other, according to the '
foreknowledge of God the Father.
That those dispersed strangers that dwelt
in the countries here named, were Jews,
appears, if we look to the foregoing Epistle,
where the same word is used, and expressly
appropriated to the Jews, St James i. 1.
And Gal. ii. St Peter is called an apostle of
the circumcision, as exercising his apostle-
ship most towards them ; and there is in
some passages of the Epistle somewhat, that,
though belonging to all Christians, yet hath,
in the strain and way of expression, a parti-
cular fitness to the believing Jews, as being
particularly verified in them which was spo-
ken of their nation, chap. ii. ver. 9, 1 0.
Some argue from the name, strangers,
that the Gentiles are here meant, which
seems not to be : For proselyte Gentiles were
indeed called strangers in Jerusalem, and by
the Jews. But were not the Jews strangers
in these places, Pontus, Galatia, Cappado-
cia, Asia, and Bithynia ? Not strangers
dwelling together in a prosperous flourish-
ing condition, as a well planted colony, but
strangers of the dispersion, scattered to and
fro ; and their dispersion was partly, first
by the Assyrian captivity, and after that by
the Babylonish, and by the invasion of the
Romans : And it might be in these very
times increased by the believing Jews flying
from the hatred and persecution that was
raised against them at home.
These places here mentioned, through
which they were dispersed, are all in Asia. ,
So Asia here is Asia the lesser. Where it
is to be observed, that some of these who
heard St Peter, Acts ii. are said to be of
those regions. And if any of those then con-
verted were amongst these dispersed, the com-
fort was no doubt the more grateful from the
hand of the same apostle by whom they were
first converted ; but this is only conjecture.
Though divine truths are to be received
equally from every minister alike, yet it
must be acknowledged, that there is some-
thing (we know not what to call it) of a
more acceptable reception of those who at
first were the means of bringing men to God,
than of others ; like the opinion some have
of physicians whom they love.
The apostle comforts these strangers of
this dispersion by the spiritual union which
they obtained by effectual calling, and so
calls off their eyes from their outward, dis-
persed, and despised condition, to look above
that, as high as the spring of their happi-
ness, the free love and election of God.
Scattered in the countries, and yet gathered
in God's election, chosen or picked out ;
strangers to men amongst whom they dwelt,
but known and foreknown to God ; removed
from their own country, to which men have
naturally an unalterable affection, but made
heirs of a better, as follows, ver. 3, 4. ; and
having within them the evidence both of cter.
nal election, and that expected salvation, the
Spirit of Holiness, ver. 2. At the best a
Christian is but a stranger here, set him
where you will, as our apostle teaches after :
And it is his privilege that he is so ; and
when he thinks not so, he forgets and dis-
parages himself, and descends far below his
quality, when he is much, taken with any
thing in this place of his exile.
But this is the wisdom of a Christian,
when he can solace himself against the
meanness of his outward condition, and any
kind of discomfort attending it, with the
comfortable assurance of the love of God,
that he hath called him to holiness, given
him some measure of it, and an endeavour
after more ; and by this may he conclude,
that he hath ordained him unto salvation.
If either he is a stranger where he lives, or
as a stranger deserted of his friends, and
very near stripped of all outward comforts ;
yet he may rejoice in this, that the eternal
unchangeable love of God, that is from ever-
lasting to everlasting, is sealed to his soul.
And O ! what will it avail a man to be com-
passed about with the favour of the world,
to sit unmolested in his own home and pos-
sessions, and to have them very great and
pleasant, to be well monied, and landed, and
befriended, and yet estranged and severed
from God, not having any token of his spe-
cial love ?
To the Elect.] The apostle here deno-
minates all the Christians to whom he writes,
by the condition of true believers, calling
them elect and sanctified, &c. And the
apostle St Paul writes in the same style in
his epistles to the churches. Not that all in
these churches were such indeed, but be-
cause they professed to be such, and by that
their profession and calling as Christians,
they were obliged to be such ; and as many
of them as were in any measurl true to that
their calling and profession, were really such.
Besides, it would seem not unworthy of con-
sideration, that in all probability there would
be fewer false Christians, and the number of
true believers usually greater, in the churches
in those primitive times, than now in the
best reformed churches : Because there could
not then be many of them that were from
their infancy brel in tha Christian faith, but
for the greatest part were such, as, being of
years of discretion, were, by the hearing of
the gospel, converted from Paganism and
Judaism to the Christian religion first, and
made a deliberate choice of it, to which there
were at that time no great outward encou-
ragements ; and therefore the less danger of
multitudes of hypocrites, which, as vermin
in summer, breed most in the time of thr
church's prosperity. Though no nation or
kingdom had then universally received the
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. i.
faith, but rather hated and persecuted it ;
yet were there even then amongst them, as
the writings of the apostles testify, false bre-
thren, and inordinate walkers, and men of
corrupt minds earthly minded, and led with
a spirit of envy and contention and vain-
glory.
Although the question that is moved con-
cerning the necessary qualifications of all the
members of a true visible church, can no
way, as I conceive, be decided from the in-
scriptions of the epistles ; yet certainly they
are useful to teach Christians and Christian
churches what they ought to be, and what
their holy profession requires of them, and
sharply to reprove the gross unlikeness and
inconformity that is in the most part of men,
to the description of Christians. As there
may be some that are too strait in their
judgment concerning the being and nature of
the visible church, so certainly the greatest
part of churches are too loose in their prac-
tice.
From the dissimilitude betwixt our
churches and those, we may make this use
of reproof, that if an apostolical epistle were
to be directed to us, it ought to be inscribed,
To the ignorant, profane, malicious, &c. As
he, who at the hearing of the gospel read,
said, " Either this is not the gospel, or we
are not Christians ;" so either these charac-
ters, given in the inscription of these epis-
tles^ are not true characters, or we are not
true Christians.
VER. 2. Elect according to the foreknowledge of
God the Father, through sanctification of the
Spirit, unto obedience and sprinkling of the blood
of Jesus Christ.
IN this verse we have their condition, and
the causes of it. Their condition, sanctified
and justified ; the former expressed by obe-
dience, the latter by sprinkling of the blood
of Christ. The causes, 1. Eternal election.
2. The execution of that decree, their effec-
tual calling, which I conceive is meant by
election here, the selecting them out of the
world, and joining them to the fellowship of
the children of God ; so John xiv. 19. The
former, election, is particularly ascribed to
God the Father, the latter, to the Holy Spi-
rit, and the blood of Jesus Christ the Son
of God is here the cause of their justifica-
tion ; and so the whole Trinity concurring,
dignify them with this their spiritual and
happy estate.
First, I shall discourse of these separate-
ly, and then of their connexion. 1. Of the
state itself; and first of Justification, though
named last.
This sprinkling has respect to the rite of
the legal purification by the sprinkling of
blood, and that appositely ; for these rites of
sprinkling and blood, did all point out this
blood an 1 this sprinkling, and exhibited this
true ransom of souls, which was only sha-
dowed by them.
As the use and end of sprinkling was pu-
rification and expiation, because sin merit-
ed death, and the pollutions and stains of
human nature were by sin ; such is the pol-
lution, that it can be no manner of way
washed off but by blood, Heb. ix. 22. Nei-
ther is there any blood able to purge from
sin, except the most precious blood of Jesus
Christ, which is called the blood of God,
Acts xx. 28.
That the stain of sin can only be washed
off by blood, intimates, that it merits death.
And that no blood, but that of the Son of God,
can do it, intimates, that this stain merits
eternal death ; and it had been our portion,
except the death of the eternal Lord of Life
had freed us from it.
Filthiness needs sprinkling ; guiltiness,
such as deserves death, needs sprinkling of
blood ; and the death it deserves being ever-
lasting death, the blood must be the blood
of Christ, the eternal Lord of Life dying to
free us from the sentence of death.
The soid (as the body) hath its life, its
health, its purity ; and the contrary of these,
its death, diseases, deformities, and impu-
rity, which belong to it as to their first sub-
ject, and to the body by participation.
The soul and body of all mankind is stain-
ed by the pollution of sin. The impure le-
prosy of the soul is not a spot outwardly,
but wholly inward ; hence, as the corporal
leprosy was purified by the sprinkling of
blood, so is this. Then by reflecting, we see
how all this that the apostle St Peter ex-
presseth, is necessary to justification : 1.
Christ the Mediator betwixt God and man,
is God and man. 2. A mediator not only
interceding, but also satisfying, Eph. ii. 16.
3. This satisfaction doth not reconcile us,
unless it be applied. Therefore there is not
only mention of blood, but the sprinkling: of
it. The Spirit by faith sprinkleth the soul,
as with hyssop, wherewith the sprinkling
was made : This is it of which the prophet
speaks, Isa. lii. 15. So shall he sprinkle
many nations. And which the Apostle to
the Hebrews prefers above all legal sprink-
lings, chap. ix. 12, 13, 14, both'as to its du-
ration, and as to the excellency of its effects.
Men are not easily convinced and per-
suaded of the deep stain of sin ; and that no
other laver can fetch it out, but the sprink-
ling of the blood of Jesus Christ. Some
that have moral resolutions of amendment,
dislike at least gross sins, and purpose to
avoid them, "and it is to them cleanness
enough to reform in those things ; but they
consider not what becomes of the guiltiness
they have contracted already, and how that
shall be purged, how their natural pollution
shall be taken away. Be not deceived in
this, I is not a transient sigh, or a light
VEH. 1.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEK.
word, or a wish of God forgive me ; no, nor
the highest current of repentance, nor that
which is the truest evidence of repentance,
amendment : it is none of these that purifies
in the sight of God, and expiates wrath ; they
are all imperfect and stained themselves,
cannot stand and answer for themselves,
much less be of value to counterpoise the for-
mer guilt of sin : the very tears of the purest
repentance, unless they be sprinkled with
this blood, are impure ; all our washings
without this are but washings of the blacka-
inore, it is labour in vain, Jer. ii. 22. Job
ix. 30, 31. There is none truly purged by
the blood of Christ, that doth not endeavour
after purity of heart and conversation ; but
yet it is the blood of Christ by which they
are all fair, and there is no spot in them.
Here it is said, elect to obedience ; but be-
cause that obedience is not perfect, there
must be sprinkling of the blood too. There
is nothing in religion further out of nature's
reach, and out of its liking and believing,
than the doctrine of redemption by a Sa-
viour, and a crucified Saviour, by Christ,
and by his blood, first shed on the cross in
his suffering, and then sprinkled on the soul
by his Spirit. It is easier to make men sen-
sible of the necessity of repentance and a-
mendment of life, (though that is very diffi-
cult,) than of this purging by the sprinkling of
this precious blood. Did we see how need-
ful Christ is to us, we would esteem and love
him more.
It is not by the hearing of Christ, and of
his blood in the doctrine of the gospel ; it is
not by the sprinkling of water, even that
water that is the sign of this blood, without
the blood itself, and the sprinkling of it.
Many are present where at is sprinkled, and
yet have no portion in it. Look to this,
that this blood be sprinkled on your souls,
that the destroying angel may pass by you.
There is a generation (not some few but a
generation) deceived in this ; they are their
own deceivers, pure in their own eyes, Prov.
xxx. 12. How earnestly did David pray,
Wash me, purge me with hyssop ! Though
bathed in tears, Psal. iv. 6, that satisfied not,
wash thou me. This is the honourable con-
dition of the saints, that they are purified and
consecrated unto God by this sprinkling ;
yea, have on long white robes washed in the
blood of the Lamb. There is mention in-
deed of great tribulation, but there is a
double comfort joined with it. 1. They come
out of it, that tribulation hath an end. And,
2. They pass from that to glory ; for they
have on the robe of candidates, long white
robes washed in the blood of the Lamb,
washed white in blood ; as for this blood,
it is nothing but purity and spotlessness,
being stained with no sin ; and besides, hath
that virtue to take away the stain of sin
where it is sprinkled. My well-beloved it
white and ruddy, saith the spouse, thus in
his death, ruddy by bloodshed, white by in.
nocence, and purity of that blood.
Shall they then that are purged by thii
blood return to live among the swine, and
tumble with them in the puddle ? What
gross injury is this to themselves, and to that
blood by which they are cleansed ? They
that are chosen to this sprinkling, are like-
wise chosen to obedience ; this blood puri-
fieth the heart ; yea, this blood purgeth our
consciences from dead works to serve the
living God, Heb. ix. 14.
2. Of their sanctification, elect unto obe-
dience. ] It is easily understood to whom ;
when obedience to God is expressed by the
simple absolute name of obedience, it teach,
eth us, that to him alone belongs absolute
and unlimited obedience ; all obedience by
all creatures. It is the shame and misery of
man that he hath departed from this obe-
dience, that we are become sons of disobe-
dience : But grace renewing the hearts of
believers, changeth their natures, and so
their names, and makes them children of
obedience, as afterwards in this chapter.
As this obedience consists in the receiving
Christ as our Redeemer, so also at the same
time as our Lord and King, an entire ren-
dering up of the whole man to his obedience.
This obedience then of the only-begotten
Jesus Christ, may well be understood not
as his actively, as Beza, but objectively, as
2 Cor. x. 5. I think here it is contained,
yea, chiefly understood to signify that obe-
dience, which the apostle to the Romans
calls the obedience of faith, bj which the
doctrine of Christ is received, and so Christ
himself, which uniteth the believing soul to
Christ ; he sprinkles it with his blood to the
remission of sin, and is the root and spring
of all future obedience in the Christian life.
By obedience, sanctification is here inti-
mated : It signifies then, both habitual and
active obedience, renovation of heart and
conformity to the divine will ; the mind is
illuminated by the Holy Ghost, to know and
believe the divine will ; yea, this faith is the
great and chief part of obedience, Rom. i.
8. The truth of the doctrine is first im-
pressed on the mind, hence flows out plea-
sant obedience, and full of love ; hence all
the affections, and the whole body, with
its members, learn to give a willing obe-
dience, and submit unto God, whereas be-
fore they resisted him, being under the stan-
dard of Satan.
This obedience, though imperfect, yet
hath a certain, if I may so say, imperfect
perfection. It is universal three manner of
ways : 1. In the subject. 2. In the object.
3. In the duration, the whole man subject-
ed to the whole law, and that constantly and
perseveringly.
The first universality is the cause of thp
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. i.
other ; because it is not in the tongue alone,
or in the hand, &c. but has its root in the
heart ; therefore it doth not wither as the
grass, or flower lying on the superfice of the
earth ; but it flourishes, because rooted ;
and therefore it embraces the whole law, be-
cause it arises from a reverence it has for
the Law-giver himself. Reverence, I say,
but tempered with love : hence it accounts
no law nor command little, or of small va-
lue, which is from God, because he is great
and highly esteemed by the pious heart. No
command hard, though contrary to the flesh,
because all things are easy to love ; there is
the same authority in all, as St James di-
vinely argues. And this authority is the
golden chain of all the commandments,
which if broke in any link, all falls to pieces.
That this threefold perfection of obedience
is not a picture drawn by fancy, is evident in
David, Psal. cxix. where he subjects him-
self to the whole law. His feet, ver. 105 ;
his mouth, ver. 13 ; his heart, ver. 11 ; the
whole tenor of his life, ver. 24. He sub-
jects himself to the whole law, ver. 6.
and he professes his constancy therein, in
ver. 16 and 33, Teach me the way of thy
statutes, and I shall keep it unto the end.
Idly. We have the causes of the condi-
tion above described.
According to the foreknowledge of God
the Father.] The exactest knowledge of
things is, to know them in their causes ; it
is then an excellent thing, and worthy of
their endeavours that are most desirous of
knowledge, to know the best things in their
highest causes, and the happiest way of at-
taining to this knowledge is to possess those
things, and to know them in experience.
To such the apostle here speaks, and sets
before them the excellency of their spiri-
tual condition, and leads them to the causes
of it.
Their estate is, that they are sanctified
and justified: The nearest cause of both
these is Jesus Christ ; he is made unto them
both righteousness and sanctification : the
sprinkling of his blood purifies them from
guiltiness, and quickens them to obedience.
, The appropriating or applying cause
comes next under consideration, which is
the holy, and holy making, or sanctifying
Spirit, the author of their selecting from the
world, and effectual calling unto grace.
The source of all, the appointing or de-
creeing cause, is God the Father: for
though they all work equally in all, yet in
order of working, we are taught thus to dis-
tinguish, and particularly to ascribe the first
work of eternal election to the first person of
the blessed Trinity.
In or through sanctification.'] For to
render it elect to the sanctification is strain-
ed r So then I conceive this election is their
effectual calling, which is by the working of
the Holy Spirit, 1 Cor. i. 26, 27, 28, where
vocation and election are used in the same
sense : Ye see your calling, brethren, hoio
that not many wise men after the flesh, &c.
but God hath chosen the foolish things of
the world to confound the wise. It is the
first act of the decree of election ; the be-
ginning of its performance in those that are
elected ; and it is in itself a real separating
of men from the profane and miserable con-
dition of the world, and an appropriating
and consecrating of a man unto God ; and
therefore, both in regard of its relation to
election, and in regard of its own nature, it
well bears that name, Rom. viii. 28, 30 ;
Acts ii. 47, and xiii. 4(5 ; John xv. 19.
Sanctification in a narrower sense, as dis-
tinguished from justification, signifieth the
inherent holiness of a Christian, or his being
inclined and enabled to obedience, mention-
ed in this verse : But it is here more large,
and is co-extended with the whole work of
renovation, and is the severing and separat-
ing of men to God, by his Holy Spirit,
drawing them unto him ; and so it compre-
hends justification, as here, and the first
working of faith, by which the soul is justi-
fied, through its apprehending, and applying
the righteousness of Jesus Christ.
Of the Spirit.] The word calls men ex-
ternally, and by that external calling pre-
vails with many to an external receiving and
professing of religion ; but if it be left alone
it goes no further ; it is indeed the means of
sanctification and effectual calling, John
xvii. 17, Sanctify them through thy truth.
But this it doth when the Spirit that speaks
in the word works in the heart, and causes it
to hear and obey. The spirit or soul of a
man is the chief and first subject of this
work, and it is but slight false work that be-
gins not there : but the Spirit here, is ra-
ther to be taken for the Spirit of God the
efficient, than the Spirit of man the subject
of this sanctification ; and therefore our Sa-
viour in that place prays to the Father, that
he would sanctify his own by that truth,
and this he doth by the concurrence of his
Spirit with that word of truth which is the
life and vigour of it, and makes it prove the
power of God unto salvation to them that
believe. It is a fit means in itself, but it is
then a prevailing means, when the Spirit of
God brings it into the heart ; it is a sword,
and sharper than a two-edged sword, fit to
divide, yea even to the dividing of soul and
spirit. But this it doth not, unless it be
in the Spirit's hand, and he applies it to this
cutting and dividing. The word calls, but
the Spirit draws, not severed from that word,
but working in it and by it.
It is very difficult work to draw a soul out
of the hands and strong chains of Satan, and
out of the pleasing entanglements of the
world, and out of its own natural pervei8«-
VEH. 2.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
ness, to yield up itself unto God, to deny it-
self, and live to him ; and in so doing, to
run against the main stream, and the cur-
rent of the ungodly world without, and cor-
ruption within.
The strongest rhetoric, the most moving
and persuasive way of discourse, is all too
weak ; the tongue of men and angels cannot
prevail with the soul to free itself, and shake
off all that detains it. Although it be con-
vinced of the truth of those things that are
represented to it, yet still it can and will
hold out against it, and say, Non persuade-
bis, etiamsi persuaseris.
The hand of man is too weak to pluck
any soul out of the crowd of the world, and
set it in amongst the select number of be-
lievers. Only the Father of spirits hath ab-
solute command of spirits, viz. the souls of
men, to work on them as he pleaseth, and
where he will. This powerful, this sanc-
tifying Spirit, knows no resistance, works
sweetly, and yet strongly ; it can come into
the heart, whereas all other speakers are
forced to stand without. That still voice
within persuades more than all the loud cry-
ing without ; as he that is within the house,
though he speak low, is better heard and un-
derstood than he that shouts without doors.
When the Lord himself speaks by this
his Spirit to a man, selecting and calling
him out of the lost world, he can no more
disobey, than Abraham did, when the Lord
spoke to him after an extraordinary manner,
to depart from his own country and kindred :
Gen. xii. 4, Abraham departed, as the
Lord had spoken to him. There is a secret
but very powerful virtue in a word, a look,
or touch of this Spirit upon the soul, by
which it is forced, not with a harsh but
a pleasing violence, and cannot choose but
follow it, not unlike that of Elijah's mantle
upon Elisha, 1 Kings xix. 19. How easy
did the disciples forsake their callings and
dwellings to follow Christ.
The Spirit of God draws a man out of the
world by a sanctified light sent into his
mind, discovering to him, 1. How base and
false the sweetness of sin is that withhold
men and amuses them that they return not,
and how true and sad the bitterness is, that
will follow upon it. 2. Setting before his
eyes the free and happy condition, the glo-
rious liberty of the Sons of God, the riches
of their present enjoyment, and their far
larger and assured hopes for hereafter. 3.
Making the beauty of Jesus Christ visible
to die soul ; which straightway takes it so,
that it cannot be stayed from coming to him,
though its most beloved friends, most belov-
ed sins, lie in the way, and hang about it anc
cry, Will you leave us so ? It will treac
upon all to come within the embraces o:
•7esus Christ, and say with St Paul, / was
not disobedient to, or unpersuaded by the
heavenly vision.
It is no wonder that the godly are by
some called singular and precise ; they are
so, singular, a few selected ones, picked out
by God's own hand for himself, Psal. iv. 3,
Know that the Lord hath set apart him
that is godly for himself : Therefore, sdith
our Saviour, the world hates you, because I
have chosen you out of the world. For the
world lies in unholiness, and wickedness is
buried in it. And as living men can have
no pleasure among the dead, neither can
these elected ones among the ungodly ; they
walk in the world as warily as a man or
woman, neatly apparelled, would do amongst
a multitude that are all sullied and bemired.
Endeavour to have this sanctifying Spirit
in yourselves ; pray much for it ; for his
promise is passed to us, that he will give
this Holy Spirit to them that ask it. And
shall we be such fools as to want it for want of
asking ? When we find heavy fetters on our
souls and much weakness, yea averseness to
follow the voice of God calling us to his obe-
dience, then let us pray with the spouse,
draw me. She cannot go nor stir without
that drawing ; and yet with it, not only goes,
but runs : We will run after thee.
Think it not enough that you hear the
word, and use the outward ordinances of
God, and profess his name; for many are
thus called, and yet but a few of them are
chosen. There is but a small part of the
world outwardly called, in comparison of the
rest that is not so, and yet the number of the
true elect is so small, that it gams the num-
ber of these that are called the name of
many. They that are in the visible church,
and partake of external vocation, are but like
a large list of names, as in civil elections is
usual, out of which a small number is chosen
to the dignity of true Christians, and invest-
ed into their privilege. Some men in nomi-
nation to offices or employment, think it a
worse disappointment and disgrace to have
been in the list, and yet not chosen, than if
their names had not been mentioned at all.
Certainly it is a greater unhappiness to have
been not far from the kingdom of God, as
our Saviour speaks, and miss of it, than still
to have remained in the furthest distance ; to
have been at the mouth of the haven, the
fair havens indeed, and yet driven back and
shipwrecked. Your labour is most prepos,
terous, you seek to ascertain and make sure
things that cannot be made sure, and that
which is both more worth, and may be made
surer than them all, you will not endeavour
to make sure. Hearken to the apostle's ad-
vice, and at length set about this in earnest,
to make your calling and election sure ;
make sure this election, as it is here, for that
is the order, your effectual calling sure,
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP, i
and that will bring with it assurance of the
other, the eternal election and love of trod
towards you, which follows to be considered.
According to the foreknowledge oj God
the Father.] Known unto God are all his
works from the beginning, saith the apostle
James, Acts xv. 18. He sees all things
from the beginning of time to the end of it,
and beyond to all eternity, and from aU eter-
nity he did foresee them. But this fore-
knowledge here is peculiar to the elect,
Verba sensus in sacra scriptura denotant
uffectus, as the Rabbins remark ; so in man,
Psal. Ixvi. // / see iniquity ; and in God,
Psalm i. 6, For the Lord knoweth the way
of the righteous, &c. Amos iii. 2, You
only have I known of all the families of the
earth, &c. And in that speech of our Sa-
viour, relating it as the terrible doom of re-
probates at the last day, Depart, &c. /
know you not, I never knew you ; So St
Paul, Rom. vii. 15, For that which I do, I
allow [Gr. know] not. And Beza observes,
that yHufKui is, by the Greeks, sometimes
taken for decernere, judicare ; thus some
speak, to cognosce upon a business. So
then, this foreknowledge is no other but that
eternal love of God, or decree of election, by
which some are appointed unto life, and being
foreknown or elected to that end, they are
predestinate to the way of it, Rom. viii. 29
For whom he did foreknow, he also did
predestinate to be conformed to the image
of his Son, that he might be the first-born
among many brethren.
It is most vain to imagine a foresight of
faith in men, and that God in the view of
that, as the condition of election itself, as it
is called, has chosen them : For, 1 . Nothing
at all is futurum, or can have that imagined
futurition, but as it is, and because it is
decreed by God to be ; and therefore, (as
says the apostle St James, in the passage
before cited,) Known unto God are all his
works, because his works in time were his
purpose from eternity. 2. It is most absurd
to give any reason of Divine will without
himself. 3. This easily solves all that dif-
ficulty that the apostle speaks of; and yet
he never thought of such a solution, but runs
high for an answer, not to satisfy cavilling
reason, but to silence it, and stop its mouth :
for thug the apostle argues, Rom. ix. 19, 20,
Thou wilt then say unto me, Why doth he
yet find fault ; for who hath resisted his
will? Nay, but, O man, who art thou
that repliest against God 9 Who can con-
ceive whence this should be, that any man
should believe unless it be given him o)
God ; and if given him, then it was his pur-
pose to give it him ; and if so, then it is
evident that he had a purpose to save him ;
and for that end he gives faith, not therefore
purposes to save, because man shall believe.
4. This seems cross to these scriptures.
where they speak of the subordination, or
rather co-ordination of these two, as here
foreknown and elect, not because of obe-
dience, or sprinkling, or any svich thing, but
to obedience and sprinkling, which is by
faith. So he predestinated, not because he
foresaw men would be conformed to Christ,
but that they might be so, as Rom. viii. 29,
For whom he did foreknow, he also did
predestinate : And the same order, Acts
ii. 47, And the Lord added to the church
daily such as should be saved. And xiii.
48, And as many as were ordained to eter-
nal life believed.
This foreknowledge, then, is his eternal
and unchangeable love ; and that thus he
chooseth some, and rejecteth others, is for
that great end, to manifest and magnify his
mercy and justice : But why he appointed
this man for the one, and the other for the
other, made Peter a vessel for this mercy,
and Judas of wrath, this is even so, because
it seemed good to him. This, if it be harsh,
yet it is apostolic doctrine. Hath not the
potter, (saith St Paul,) power over the
same lump, to make one vessel unto honour,
and another unto dishonour ? This deep
we must admire, and always in considering
it, close with this, O the depth of the riches,
both of the wisdom and knowledge of God !
Now the connection of these, we are for
our profit to take notice of, that effectual call-
ing is inseparably tied to this eternal fore-
knowledge or election on the one side, and
salvation on the other. These two links of
:he chain are up in heaven, in God's own
hand ; but this middle one is let down on
earth, into the hearts of his children, and
they laying hold on it, have sure hold on the
other two, for no power can sever them ; if
therefore they can read the characters of
God's image in their own souls, those are
the counter-part of the golden characters of
his love, in which their names are written
in the book of life. Their believing writes
their names under the promises of the reveal-
ed book of life, the Scriptures ; and so as-
certains them, that the same names are in
the secret book of life that God hath by him-
self from eternity. So, finding the stream
of grace in their hearts, though they see not
the fountain whence it flows, nor the ocean
into which it returns, yet they know that it
hath its source, and shall return to that ocean
which ariseth from their eternal election, and
shall empty itself into that eternity of hap-
piness and salvation.
Hence much y*y ariseth to the believer ;
this tie is undiboolvablc, as the agents are,
the Father, the Son, and the Spirit ; so are
election, and vocation, and sanctification,
and justification, and glory. Therefore in
all conditions believers may, from the sense
of the working of the Spirit in them, look
back to that election, and forward to that
VER. 2.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
salvation : But they that remain unholy
and disobedient, have as yet no evidence of
this love ; and therefore cannot, without vain
presumptions and self-delusion, judge thus
of themselves, that they are within the pe-
culiar love of God : But in this, let the
righteous be glad, and let them shout for
joy all that are upright in heart,
It is one main point in happiness, that he
that is happy doth know, and judge himself
to be so ; this being the peculiar good of a
reasonable creature, it is to be enjoyed in a
reasonable way ; it is not as the dull resting
of a stone, or any other natural body in its
natural place ; but the knowledge and con-
sideration of it, is the fruition of it, the very
relishing and tasting its sweetness.
The perfect blessedness of the saints is
waiting them above : But even their pre-
sent condition is truly happy, though incom-
pletely, and but a small beginning of that
which they expect ; and this, their present
happiness, is so much the greater, the more
clear knowledge and firm persuasion they
have of it. It is one of the pleasant fruits
of the godly, to know the things that are
freely given them of God, 1 Cor. ii. 12.
Therefore the apostle, to comfort his dispers-
ed brethren, sets before them a description
of that excellent sf jitual condition to which
they are called.
If election, effectual calling, and salva-
tion, be inseparably linked together ; then by
any one of them a man may hold upon all
the rest, and may know that his hold is sure,
and this is that way wherein we may attain,
and ought to seek that comfortable assurance
of the love of God. Therefore, make your
calling sure, and by that your election ; for
that being done, this follows of itself. We
are not to pry immediately into the decree,
but to read it in the performance. Though
the mariner sees not the pole-star, yet the
needle of the compass that points to it, tells
him which way he sails : Thus the heart
that is touched witn the load-stone of Divine
love, trembling with godly fear, and yet still
looking towards God by fixed believing,
points at the love of election, and tells the
soul that its course is heavenward, towards
the haven of eternal rest. He that loves,
may be sure he was loved first ; and he that
chooses God for his delight and portion, may
conclude confidently, that God hath chosen
him to be one of those who shall enjoy him,
and be happy in him for ever : For that
our love, and electing of him, is but the re-
turn and repercussion of the beams of his
love shining upon us.
Find thou but within thee sanctifica-
tion by the Spirit, and this argues neces-
sarily, both justification by the Son, and the
election of God the Father : 1 John iv. 13,
Hereby know we that we dwell in him,
and he in us, because he has given us of
his Spirit. It is a most strange demon,
stration, ab effectu reciproco, he called those
he hath elected ; he elected those he called.
Where this sanctifying Spirit is not, there
can be no persuasion of this eternal love of
God ; they that are children of disobedience,
can conclude no otherwise of themselves but
that they are the children of wrath. Al-
though from present unsanctification, a man
cannot infer that he is not elected, for the
decree may for part of a man's life run, as
it were, under ground ; yet this is sure, that
that estate leads to death, and unless it be
broken, will prove the black line of reproba-
tion. A man hath no portion among the
children of God, nor can read one word of
comfort in all the promises that belong to
them, while he remains unholy. Men may
please themselves in profane scoffing at the
Holy Spirit of grace ; but let them withal
know this, that that Holy Spirit they mock
and despise, is that Spirit that seals men to
the day of redemption, Eph. iv. 30.
If any pretend they have the Spirit, and so
turn away from the straight rule of the holy
Scriptures, they have a spirit indeed, but it
is a fanatical spirit, the spirit of delusion and
giddiness : But the Spirit of God, that leads
his children in the way of truth, and is for
that purpose sent them from heaven to guide
them thither, squares their thoughts and ways
to that rule, whereof it is author, and that
word, which was inspired by it, and sanctifies
them to obedience : He that saith, I know
him, and keepeth not his commandments,
is a liar, and the truth is not in him,
1 John ii. 4. ,
Now this Spirit that sanctifieth, and
sanctifieth to obedience, is within us, the
evidence of our election, and earnest of our
salvation. And whoso are not sanctified and
led by this Spirit, the apostle tells what is
their condition, Rom. viii. 9, // any man
have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none
of his. *
Let us not delude ourselves ; this is a
truth, if there be any in religion, — they that
are not made saints in the estate of grace,
shall never be saints in glory.
The stones that are appointed for that
glorious temple above, are hewn, and polish-
ed, and prepared for it here, as the stones
were wrought and prepared in the mountains
for building the temple of Jerusalem.
This is God's order, Psalm Ixxxiv. 11.
He gives grace and glory : as moralists can
tell us, that the way to the temple of ho-
nour is through the temple of virtue. They
that think they are bound for heaven in the
ways of sin, have either found a new way,
untrodden by all that have gone thither, or
will find themselves deceived in the end.
We need not then that poor shift for the
pressing of holiness and obedience upon men,
to represent it to them as the meriting cause
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP.
of salvation. This is not at all to the pur-
pose, seeing without it the necessity of holi-
ness to salvation is pleasing enough ; for ho-
liness is no less necessary to salvation, than
if it were the meriting cause of it; it is as
insaparably tied to it in the purpose of God.
And in the order of performance, godliness
is as certainly before salvation, as if salva-
tion did wholly and altogether depend upon
it, and were in point of justice deserved by it.
Seeing then there is no other way to happiness
but by holiness, no assurance of the love of God
without it, take the apostle's advice, study it,
seek it, follow earnestly after holiness, with-
out which no man shall see the Lord.
Grace unto you, and peace be multiplied.]
It hath always been a civil custom among
men, to season their intercourse with good
wishes one for another ; this the apostles use
in their epistles, in a spiritual divine way,
suitable to their holy writings. It well be-
comes the messengers of grace and peace to
wish both, and to make their salutation con-
form to the main scope and subject of their
discourse. The Hebrew word of salutation
we have here, peace ; and that which is the
spring both of this and all good things in
the other word of salutation used by the
Greeks, grace. All right rejoicing, and
prosperity, and happiness, flows from this
source, and from this alone, and is sought
elsewhere in vain.
In general, this is the character of a
Christian spirit, to have a heart filled with
blessing, with this sweet good-will and good-
wishing to all, especially to those that are
their brethren in the same profession of re-
ligion. And this charity is a precious balm,
diffusing itself in the wise and seasonable ex-
pressions of it upon fit occasions ; and those
expressions must be cordial and sincere, not
like that you call court holy water, in which
there is nothing else but falsehood, or vani-
ty at the best. This manifests men to be
the sons of blessing, and of the ever-blessed
God the Father of all blessing, when in his
name they bless one another: Yea, our
Saviour's rule goes higher, to bless those that
curse them, and urges it by that relation to
God as their Father, that in this they may
resemble him : That ye may be the child,
ren of your Father which is in heaven.
But in a more eminent way, it is the duty
of pastors to bless their people, not only by
their public and solemn benediction, but by
daily and instant prayers for them in secret.
And the great Father who seeth in secret
will reward them openly.
They are to be ever both endeavouring
and wishing their increase of knowledge and
all spiritual grace, in which they have St.
Paul a frequent pattern.
They that are messengers of this grace,
if they have experience of it, it is the oil of
gladness that will dilate their heart, and
make it large in love and spiritual desires
for others, especially their own flocks.
Let us, 1. Consider the matter of the
apostle's desire for them, grace and peace.
2. The measure of it, that it may be multi-
plied.
1st, The matter of the apostle's desire,
grace. We need not make a noise with the
many school distinctions of grace, and de-
scribe in what sense it is here to be taken ;
for no doubt it is all saving grace to those
dispersed brethren, so that in the largest no-
tion that it can have that way, we may safe-
ly here take it.
What are preventing grace, assisting
grace, working and co-working grace, as we
may admit these differences in a sound sense,
but divers names of the same effectual saving
grace, in relation to our different estate ? as
the same sea receives different names from
the different parts of the shore it beats upon.
First, it prevents and works ; then it assists
and prosecutes what he hath wrought : He
worketh in us to will and to do. But the
whole sense of saving grace, I conceive, is
comprehended in these two : 1. Grace in
the fountain, that is, the peculiar love and
favour of God. 2. In the streams, the fruits
of this love : for it is not an empty, but a
most rich and liberal love, viz. all the graces
and spiritual blessings of God, bestowed upon
them whom he hath freely chosen. The
love of God in itself can neither diminish
nor increase, but it is multiplied, or abounds
in the manifestation and effects of it ; so
then, to desire grace to be multiplied to them,
is to wish to them the living spring of it,
that love that cannot be exhausted, but is
ever flowing forth, and instead of abating,
makes each day richer than another.
And this is that which should be the top
and sum of Christian desires, to have, or want
any other thing indifferently ; but to be re-
solved and resolute in this, to seek a share in
this grace, the free love of God, and the sure
evidences of it within you, the fruit of holi-
ness and the grace of his Spirit. But the
most of us are otherwise taken up : We
will not be convinced how basely and fool-
ishly we are busied, though in the best and
most respected employments of the world, so
long as we neglect our noblest trade of grow-
ing rich in grace, and the comfortable en-
joyment of the love of God. Our Saviour
tells us of one thing needful, importing that
all other things are comparatively unneces-
sary, by-works, and mere impertinencies ; and
yet in these we lavish out our short and un-
certain time, we let the other stand by till
we find leisure. Men who are altogether
profane, think not on it at all ; some others
possibly deceive themselves thus, and say,
When I have done with such a business in
which I am engaged, then I will sit down
seriously to this, and bestow more time ar»d
VER. 2.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
11
pains on these things that are undeniably
greater and better, and more worthy of it.
But this is a slight that is in danger to un-
do us : What if we attain not to the end
of that business, but end ourselves before it ?
or if we do not, yet some other business may
step in after that. Oh then, say we, that
must be despatched also. Thus, by such de-
lays, we lose the present opportunity, and in
the end our own souls.
Oh ! be persuaded it deserves your dili-
gence, and that without delay, to seek some-
what that may be constant enough to abide
with you, and strong enough to uphold you
in all conditions, and that is alone this free
grace and love of God. While many say,
Who will shew us any good ? set you in
with David in his choice, Lord, lift thou up
the light of thy countenance upon me, and
this shall rejoice my heart more than the
abundance of corn and wine, Psal. iv. 6, 7-
This is that light that can break into the
darkest dungeons, from which all other lights
and comforts are shut out ; and without this,
all other enjoyments are, what the world
would be without the sun, nothing but dark-
ness. Happy they who have this light of
Divine favour and grace shining into their
souls ; for by it they shall be led to that city,
where the sun and the moon are needless ;
for the glory of God doth lighten it, and
the Lamb is the light thereof, Rev. xxi. 23.
Godliness is profitable for all things,
saith the apostle, having the promises of this
life and that which is to come ; all other
blessings are the attendants of grace, and
follow upon it. This blessing that the
apostle here, and also St. Paul in his epis-
tles, joins with grace, was with the Jews of
so large a sense, as to comprehend all that
they could desire ; when they wished peace,
they meant all kind of good, all welfare and
prosperity. And thus we may take it here
for all kind of peace ; yea, and for all other
blessings, but especially that spiritual peace,
which is the proper fruit of grace, and doth
so intrinsically flow from it.
We may and ought to wish to the church
of God outward blessings, and particularly
outward peace, as one of the greatest, so one
of the most valuable favours of God : Thus
prayed the Psalmist, (Psal. cxxii. ?•) Peace
be within thy walls, and prosperity within
thy palaces.
But that Wisdom that doth what he will,
by what means he will, and works one con-
trariety out of another, brings light out of
darkness, good out of evil, can and doth turn
tears and troubles to the advantage of his
church : but certainly in itself, peace is more
suitable to its increase, and, if not abused,
proves so too. As in the apostolic times, it
is said, The church had peace and increased
exceedingly, Acts ix. 31, we ought also to
wish for ecclesiastical peace to the church,
that she may be free from dissensions and
divisions.
These readily arise mote or less, as we see
in all times, and haunt religion, and the re-
formation of it, as a malus genius. St. Paul
had this to say to his Corinthians, though he
had given them this testimony, that ihey were
enriched in all utterance and knowledge, and
were wanting in no gift, 1 Cor. i. 5, yet pre-
sently after, ver. 11, / hear that there are
divisions and contentions among you. The
•nemy had done this, as our Saviour speaks ;
and this enemy is no fool, for, by Divine
permission, he works to his own end very
wisely : For there is not one thing that doth
on all hands choke the seed of religion so
much, as thorny debates and differences
about itself. So in succeeding ages, and at
the breaking forth of the light in Germany
in Luther's time, multitudes of sects arose.
Profane men do not only stumble, but fall
and break their necks upon these divisions.
We see, think they, and some of them pos-
sibly say it out, that they who mind religion
most, cannot agree upon it ; our easiest way
is, not to embroil ourselves, nor at all to be
troubled with the business. Many are of
Gallio's temper, they will care for none of
those things. Thus these offences prove a
mischief to the profane world, as our Sa-
viour says, Woe to the world because of
offences.
Then the erring side, that is taken with
new opinions and fancies, are altogether
taken up with them, their main thoughts
spent upon them ; and thus the sap is drawn
from that which should nourish and prosper
in their hearts, sanctified useful knowledge,
and saving grace. The other are as weeds,
that divert the nourishment in gardens from
the plants and flowers : And certainly these
weeds, viz. men's own conceits, cannot but
grow more with them, when they give way
to them, than solid religion doth ; for their
hearts, as one said of the earth, Are mother
to those, and but stepmother to this.
It is also a loss even to those that oppose
errors and divisions, that they are forced to
be busied that way : For the wisest and
godliest of them find, and such are sensible
of it, that disputes in religion are no friends
to that which is far sweeter in it ; but hin-
ders and abates it, viz. these pious and de-
vout thoughts, that are both the more useful,
and truly delightful.
As peace is a choice blessing, so this is
the choicest peace, and is the peculiar inse-
parable effect of this grace with which it is
here jointly wished, grace and peace ; the
flower of peace growing upon the root of
grace. This spiritual peace hath two things
in it. 1. Reconciliation with God. 2.
Tranquillity of spirit. The quarrel and mat-
ter of enmity, you know, betwixt God and
man, is the rebellion, the sin of man ; and
A COMMENTARY UPON
12
he being naturally altogether sinful, there
can proceed nothing from him, but what fo-
ments and increases the hostility. It is
grace alone, the most free grace of God, that
contrives, and offers, and makes the peace,
else it had never been ; we had universally
perished without it. Now in this is the
wonder of Divine grace, that the Almighty
God seeks agreement, and entreats for it,
with sinful clay, which he could wholly de-
stroy in a moment.
Jesus Christ the Mediator and purchaser
of this peace, bought it with his blood, kill-
ed the enmity by his own death, Eph. ii.
15. And therefore the tenor of it in the
Gospel runs still in his name, Rom. v. 1,
We have peace with God through Jesus
Christ our Lord ; and St. Paul expresses it
in his salutations, that are the same with
this, Grace and peace from God the Fa-
ther, and our Lord Jesus Christ.
As the free love and grace of God ap-
pointed this means and way of our peace,
• and offered it ; so the same grace applies
it, and makes it ours, and gives us faith to
apprehend it.
And from our sense of this peace, or re-
concilement with God, arises that which is
our inward peace, a calm and quiet temper
of mind. This peace that we have with
God in Christ, is inviolable : But because
the sense and persuasion of it may be inter-
rupted, the soul that is truly at peace with
God, may for a time be disquieted in itself,
through weakness of faith, or the strength
of temptation, or the darkness of desertion,
losing sight of that grace, that love and light
of God's countenance, on which its tranquil-
lity and joy depends : " Thou hidest thy
face," saith David, " and I was troubled."
But when these eclipses are over, the soul is
revived with new consolation, as the face of
the earth is renewed, and made to smile
with the return of the sun in the spring ;
and this ought always to uphold Christians
in the saddest times, viz. that the grace and
love of God towards them, depends not on
their sense, nor upon any thing in them, but
is still in itself incapable of the smallest al-
teration.
It is natural to men to desire their own
peace, the quietness and contentment of
their minds : But most men miss the way to
it, and therefore find it not ; for there is no
way to it indeed, but this one, wherein few
seek it, viz. reconcilement and peace with God.
The persuasion of that alone makes the mind
clear and serene, like your fairest summer
days : " My peace I give you," saith Christ,
" not as the world. Let not your hearts be
troubled." All the peace and favour of the
world cannot calm a troubled heart ; but
where this peace is that Christ gives, all the
trouble and disquiet of the world cannot dis-
turb it : " When he giveth quietness* who
[CHAP. i.
then can make trouble ? and when he hideth
his face, who then can behold him ? whe-
ther it be done against a nation, or against a
man only." See also for this, Psal. xlvi.
cxxiii. All outward distress to a mind thus
at peace, is but as the rattling of the hail
upon the tiles, to him that sits within the
house at a sumptuous feast. A good con-
science is called so, and with an advantage
that no other feast can have, nor could men
endure it. A few hours of feasting will
weary the most professed epicure ; but a
conscience thus at peace is a continual feast,
with continual unwearied delight. What
makes the world take up such a prejudice
against religion, as a sour unpleasant thing ?
They see the afflictions and griefs of Chris-
tians ; but they do not see their joys, the in-
ward pleasure of mind that they can possess
Have you not tried
Hath not he tried
in a very hard estate,
other ways enough ?
them that had more ability and skill for it
than you, and found them not only vanity,
but vexation of spirit ? If you have any
belief of holy truth, put but this once upon
the trial, seek peace in the way of grace.
This inward peace is too precious a liquor to
be poured into a filthy vessel. A holy heart,
that gladly entertains grace, shall find, that
it and peace cannot dwell asunder.
An ungodly man may sleep to death in
the lethargy of carnal presumption and im-
penitency ; but a true lively solid peace he
cannot have : There is no peace to the wick-
ed, saith my God, Isa. Ivii. 21. And if he
say there is none, speak peace who will, if
all the world with one voice would speak it,
it shall prove none.
2dly, Consider the measure of the apos-
tle's desire for his scattered brethren, that
this grace and peace may be multiplied.
This the apostle wishes for them, knowing
the imperfection of the graces, and peace of
the saints while they are here below ; and
this they themselves, in sense of that imper-
fection, ardently desire. They that have
tasted the sweetness of this grace and peace
call incessantly for more. This is a disease
in earthly desires, and a disease incurable by
all these things desired ; there is no satis-
faction attainable by them : But this avarice
of spiritual things is a virtue, and by our
Saviour is called blessedness, because it
tends to fulness and satisfaction. Blessed
are they that hunger and thirst after righ~
teousness, for they shall be filled, Matt. v. 6.
VKR. 3. Blessed be the God and Father of our
Lord Jesus Christ, who, according to his abun-
dant mercy, hath begotten us again unto a lively
hope, by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the
dead,
VKH. 4. To an inheritance incorruptible, and un-
defiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved In
heaven for you.
IT is a cold lifeless thing to speak of spi-
VEU. 3. 4.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
ritual things upon mere report : but they
that speak of them, as their own, as having
share and interest in them, and some expe-
rience of their sweetness, their discourse of
them is enlivened with firm belief, and ar-
dent affection ; they cannot mention them,
but their hearts are straight taken with such
gladness, as they are forced to vent in
praises. Thus our apostle here, and St.
Paul, Eph. i. and often elsewhere, when
they considered these things wherewith they
were about to comfort the godly, to whom
they wrote, they were suddenly elevated with
the joy of them, and broke forth into thanks-
giving ; so teaching us, by their example,
what real joy there is in the consolations of
the Gospel, and what praise is due from all the
saints to the God of those consolations. This
is such an inheritance that the very thoughts
and hopes of it are able to sweeten the great-
est griefs and afflictions. What then shall
the possession of it be, wherein there shall be
no rupture, nor the least drop of any grief at
all ? The main subject of these verses is,
that which is the main comfort that supports
the spirits of the godly in all conditions.
1st, Their after inheritance in ver. 4.
2dly, Their present title to it, and assured
hope of it, ver. 3. 3dly, The immediate
cause of both assigned, viz. Jesus Christ.
4thly, All this derived from the free mercy
of God, as the first and highest cause, and
returned to his present glory, as the last and
highest end of it.
. For the first, the inheritance.] But
because the fourth verse which describes it,
is linked with the subsequent, we will not
go so far off to return back again, but first
speak to this third verse, and in it,
Consider, 1. Their title to this inheritance,
Begotten again : 2. Their assurance of it,
viz. a holy or lively hope.
The title that the saints have to their
rich inheritance is of the validest and most
unquestionable kind, viz. by birth. Not by
their first natural birth : By it we are all
born to an inheritance indeed ; but we find
what it is, Eph. ii. 3, Children of wrath,
heirs apparent of eternal flames. It is an
everlasting inheritance too, but so much the
more fearful, being of everlasting misery, or,
so to speak, of immortal death, and we are
made sure to it ; they who remain in that
condition cannot lose their right, although
they gladly would escape it, they shall be
forced to enter possession. But it is by a
new and supernatural birth, that men are
both freed from their engagement to that
woeful inheritance, and invested into the
rights of this other, here mentioned, as full
of happiness as the former is miserable :
therefore are they said here -to be begotten
again to that lively hope. God, the Father
of our Lord Jesus Christ, hath begotten us
again. And thus are the regenerate, the
children of an immortal Father, and so en-
titled to an inheritance of immortality : Ij
children, then heirs, heirs of God. This
sonship is by adoption in Christ, therefore it
is added, joint heirs with Christ, Rom. viii.
17- We adopted, and he the only-begotten
Son of God, by an eternal ineffable gene-
ration.
And yet this our adoption is not a mere
extrinsical denomination, as is adoption
amongst msn ; but accompanied with a real
change in those that are adopted, a new na-
ture and spirit infused into them ; by rea-
son of which, as they are adopted to this
their inheritance in Christ, they are likewise
begotten of God, and born again to it, by
the supernatural work of regeneration. They
are like their heavenly Father, they have his
image renewed on their souls, and their Fa-
ther's spirit. They have, and are acted,
and led by it. This is that great mystery
of the kingdom of God, and that puzzled
Nicodemus ; it was darkness to him at first,
till he was instructed in that night, under
the covert whereof he came to Christ,
Nature cannot conceive of any generation
or birth, but that which is within its own
compass ; only they that are partakers of this
spiritual birth, understand what it means ;
to others it is a riddle, an unsavoury, un-
pleasant subject.
It is sometimes ascribed to the subordi-
nate means, to baptism, called therefore the
iaver of regeneration, Tit. iii. 5. To the
word of God, Jam. f. 18. It is that im-
mortal seed, whereby we are bom again, by
the ministry of this Word, andithe seals of
it, as 1 Cor. iv. 15, " For though you have
ten thousand instructors in Christ, yet have
ye not many fathers ; for in Christ Jesus I
have begotten you through the Gospel." As
also, Gal. iv. 19. But all those have their
vigour and efficacy in this great work from
the Father of spirits, who is thejr Father in
their first creation and infusion, and in this
their regeneration, which is a new and se-
cond creation, 2 Cor. v. 17, " If any man
be in Christ, he is a new creature."
Divines have reason to infer from the na-
ture of conversion thus expressed, that man
doth not bring any thing to this work him-
self. It is true he hath a will, as his natu-
ral faculty ; but that this will embraces the
offer of grace, and turns to him that offers
it, is from renewing grace, that sweetly and
yet strongly, strongly and yet sweetly, in-
clines it.
1. Nature cannot raise itself to this, more
than a man can give natural being to him-
self. 2. It is not a superficial change, it is
a new life and being. A moral man, in his
changes and reformations of himself, is still
the same man. Though he reform so far,
as men, in their ordinary phrase call him,
quite another man ; yet in truth, till he be
14
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CUAP. f.
born again, there is no new nature in him.
" The sluggard turns on his bed as the door
on the hinges," says Solomon. Thus the
natural man turns from one custom and pos-
ture to another, but never turns off: But
the Christian, by virtue of this new birth,
can say indeed, Ego non sum ego, I am
not the same man I was.
You that are nobles, aspire to this ho-
nourable condition, add this nobleness to the
other, for it far surpasses it; make it the
crown of all your honours and advantages.
And you that are of mean birth, or if you
have any stain in your birth, the only way
to make up and repair all, and truly to en-
noble you, is this, to be the sons of a king,
yea, of the King of kings, and this honour
have all his saints. To as many as re-
ceived him, he gave this privilege to be the
sons of God.
Unto a lively hope.] Now are toe the
sons of God, saith the apostle, 1 John iii. 2.
But it doth not yet appear what we shall
be. These sons are heirs ; but all this life-
time is their minority ; yet even then, being
partakers of this new birth and sonship, they
have right to it, and in the assurance of that
right, this living hope ; as an heir, when he
is capable of those thoughts, hath not only
right of inheritance, but may rejoice in the
hope he hath of it, and please himself in
thinking of it. But hope is said to be only
of an uncertain good : True, in the world's
phrase it is so ; for their hope is conversant
in uncertain things, or in things that may be
certain, after an uncertain manner ; all their
worldly hopes are tottering, built upon sand,
and their hopes of heaven are but blind and
groundless conjectures ; but the hope of the
sons of the living God, is a living hope.
That which Alexander said when he dealt
liberally about him, that he left hope to
himself, the children of God may more wise-
ly and happily say, when they leave the hot
pursuit of the world to others, and despise
it, their portion is hope. The thread of
Alexander's life was cut off in the midst of
his victories, and so all his hopes vanished ;
but their hope cannot die, nor disappoint
them.
But then it is said to be lively, not only
objectively, but effectively, enlivening and
comforting the children of God in all dis-
tresses, enabling them to encounter and
surmount all difficulties in the way. And
then it is formerly so, it cannot fail, dies not
before accomplishment. Worldly hopes often
mock men, and so cause them to be asham-
ed, and men take it as a great blot, and are
most of all ashamed of those things that dis-
cover weakness of judgment in them. Now
worldly hopes do thus, they put the fool
upon a man : When he hath judged him-
self sure, and laid so much weight and ex-
pectation on them, then they break, and foil
him ; they are not living, but lying hopes,
and dying hopes ; they die often before us,
and we live to bury them, and see our own
folly and infelicity in trusting to them ; but
at the utmost, they die with us when we die,
and can accompany us no further. But this
hope answers expectation to the full, and
much beyond it, and deceives no way, but
in that happy way, of far exceeding it.
A living hope, living in death itself.
The world dare say no more for its device,
but dum spiro spero ; but the children of
God can add, by virtue of this living hope,
dum exspiro spero. It is a fearful thing
when a man and all his hopes die together.
Thus saith Solomon of the wicked, Prov.
xi. 7, when he dieth, then die his hopes,
many of them before, but at the utmost then
all of them ; but the righteous hath hope in
his death, Prov. xiv. 32. Death alone,
that cuts the sinews of all other hopes, and
turns men out of all other inheritances, ful-
fils this hope, and ends it in fruition ; as a
messenger sent to bring the children of God
home to the possession of their inheritance.
By the resurrection of Christ from the
dead.} This refers to both begotten again by
his resurrection, and having this living hope
by his resurrection ; and well suits both, it
being the proper cause of both, in this order.'
First then of the birth ; next of the hope.
The image of God is renewed in us by
our union with him, who is the express
image of his Father's person, Ileb. i. 3.
Therefore this new birth in the conception
is expressed by the " forming of Christ in
the soul," Gal. iv. 19, and resurrection par-
ticularly is assigned as the cause of our new
life : This new birth is called our resurrec-
tion, and that in conformity to Christ, yea,
by the virtue and influence of his. His resur-
rection is called a birth, he the first-begotten
from the dead, Rev. i. 5. And that pro-
phecy, Psal. ii. 7, " Thou art my Son, this
day have I begotten thee," is applied to his
resurrection as fulfilled in it, Acts xiii. 3b,
" God hath fulfilled the same unto us their
children, in that he hath raised up Jesus
again ; as it is also written in the second
Psalm, Thou art my Son, this day have I be-
gotten thee." Not only is it the exemplar,
but the efficient cause of our new birth.
Thus, Rom. vi. at large, and often elsewhere.
And thus likewise it is the cause of our
living hope, that which indeed inspires and
maintains life in it, because he hath con-
quered death, and is risen again ; and that
is implied which followeth, he is " set down
at the right hand of God," hath entered into
possession of that inheritance : This gives
us a living hope, that according to his own
request, " where he is, there we may be
also." Thus this hope is strongly underset,
on the one side by the resurrection of Christ,
on the other by the abundant mercy of God
VEH. 3, 4.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
I A
the Father. Our hope depends not on our
own strength or wisdom, nor on any thing
in us ; for if it did, it would be short-lived,
would die, and die quickly ; but on his re-
surrection who can die no more : For, " in
that he died, he died unto sin once ; but in
that he liveth, he liveth unto God," Rom.
vi. 10. This makes this hope not to imply,
in the notion of it, uncertainty, as worldly
hopes do ; but it is a firm, stable, inviolable
hope, an anchor fixed within the vail.
According to his abundant mercy.} Mercy
is the spring of all this ; yea, great mercy,
and manifold mercy : ' For,' as St Bernard
saith, ' great sins and great miseries need
great mercy, and many sins and miseries
need many mercies.' And is not this great
mercy, to make of Satan's slaves, sons of the
Most High ? Well may the apostle say,
Behold what manner of love, and how great
love the Father hath shewed us, that we
should be called the sons of God. The
world knows us not, because it knew not
him. They that have not seen the father of
a child, cannot know its resembling him.
Now the world knows not God, and there-
fore discerns not his image in his children,
so as to esteem them for it. But whatever
be their opinion, this we must say ourselves,
Behold what manner of love is this, to take
fire-brands of hell, and to appoint them to
be one day brighter than the sun in the fir-
mament ; to raise the poor out of the dung-
hill, and set them with princes, Psal. cxiii.
7.8.
Blessed be the God and Father of our
Lord Jesus Christ.] Lastly, we see it stirs
up the apostle to praise the God and Father
of our Lord Jesus Christ. This is the style
of the Gospel, as formerly under the law, the
God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and the
God that brought thee up out of the land of
Egypt, &c. This now is the order of the
government of grace, that it holds first with
Christ our head, and in him with us ; so he
says, / go to my Father, and your Father,
and my God, and your God. Which, as
St Cyril of Jerusalem in his catechism ob-
serves, shews us not only our communion
with him, that might have been expressed
thus, I go to my God and Father, but the
order of the covenant, first my Father, and my
God, and then yours. Thus ought we, in our
consideration of the mercies of God, still to
take in Christ, for in him they are conveyed
to us. Thus, Eph. i. 3, With all spiritual
blessings in Christ Jesus.
Blessed.] He blesseth us really, bene-
faciendo, benedicit. We bless him, by ac-
knowledging his goodness, and this we ought
to do at all times, Psal. xxxiv. 1. I will bless
the Lord at all times, his praise shall con-
tinually be in my mouth. All this is far
below him and his mercies. What are our
lame nraises in comparison of his love ? No-
thing, and less than nothing ; but love will
stammer rather than be dumb. They that
are amongst his children, begotten again,
have, in the resurrection of Christ, a lively
hope of glory, as it is, Col. i. 27, Which
is Christ in you, the hope of glory. This
leads them to observe and admire that rich
mercy whence it flows ; and this considera-
tion awakes them, and strains them to break
forth into praises.
To an inheritance incorruptible.] At he
that taketh away a garment in cold wea-
ther, and as vinegar upon nitre, so is he
that singeth songs to a heavy heart, Prov.
xxv. 20.
Worldly mirth is so far from curing spi-
ritual grief, that even worldly grief, where it
is great, and takes deep root, is not allayed
but increased by it. A man that is full of
inward heaviness, the moie he is compassed
about with mirth, it exasperates and enrages
his grief the more ; like ineffectual weak
physic, that removes not the humour, but
stirs it, and makes it more unquiet : But
spiritual joy is seasonable for all estates ; in
prosperity it is pertinent to crown and sanc-
tify all other enjoyments, with this that so
far surpasses them ; and in distress it is the
only nepenthe, the cordial of fainting spirits :
So, Psal. iv. 7» He hath put joy into my
heart. This mirth makes way for itself, which
other mirth cannot do ; these songs are sweet-
est in the night of distress. Therefore the
apostle, writing to his scattered afflicted bre-
thren, begins his epistle with this song of
praise, Blessed be the God and Father, &c.
The matter of it is, the jqyful remem-
brance of the happiness laid up for them,
under the name of inheritance. Now this
inheritance is described by the singular
qualities of it. They contain, 1. The ex-
cellency of its nature ; 2. The certainty of
its attainment. The former in these three,
incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth
not away ; the latter in the fast words of
this verse, and in the following, reserved in
heaven for you, &c.
God is bountiful to all, gives to all rnei.
all that they have, health, riches, honour,
strength, beauty, and wit ; but those things
he scatters, as it were, with an indifferent
hand. Upon others he looks, as well as on
his beloved children ; but the inheritance is
peculiarly theirs. Inheritance is convertible
with sonship : For, Gen. xxv. 5. Abraham
gave gifts to Keturah's sons, and dismissed
them ; but the inheritance was for the son of
the promise. When we see a man rising in
preferment, estate, or admired for excellent
gifts and endowments of mind, we think
there is a happy' man : But we consider not
that none of all those things are matter of in-
heritance ; within a while he is to be turned
out of all, and if he have not somewhat be-
yond all those to look to, he is but a miser-
16
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP, i.
able man, and so much the more miserable
that once he seemed and was reputed happy.
There is a certain time wherein heirs come
to possess. Thus it is with this inheritance
too ; there is by the apostle mention made of
a perfect man, unto the measure of the sta-
ture of the fulness of Christ, Eph. iv. 13.
And though the inheritance is rich and ho-
nourable, yet the heir being young is held
under discipline, and is more strictly dealt
with possibly than the servants, sharply cor-
rected for that which is let pass in them : yet
still even then, in regard of that which he is
born to, his condition is much better than
theirs, and all the correction he suffers preju-
dices him not, but fits him for inheriting. The
love of our heavenly Father is beyond the
love of mothers in tenderness, and yet beyond
the love of fathers, which are usually said to
love more wisely, in point of wisdom : He
will not undo his children, his heirs, with
too much indulgence. It is one of his heavy
judgments upon the foolish children of dis-
obedience, that ease shall slay them, and
their prosperity shall prove their destruction.
While the children of God are childish
and weak in faith, they are like some great
heirs before they come to years of under-
standing ; they consider not their inheri-
tance, and what they are to come to, have
not their spirits elevated to thoughts worthy
of their estate, and their behaviour conformed
to it : but as they grow up in years, they
come by little and little to be sensible of
those things, and the nearer they come to
possession, the more apprehensive they are
of their quality, and what doth answerably
become them to do : And this is the duty of
such as are indeed heirs of glory, to grow in
the understanding and consideration of that
which is prepared for them, and to suit
themselves as they are able, to those great
hopes. This is that the apostle St. Paul
prays for, for his Ephesians, chap. i. ver. 18,
The eyes of your understanding being en-
lightened, that ye may know what is the
hope of his calling, and what the riches of
the glory of his inheritance in the saints.
This would make them holy and heavenly,
to have their conversation in heaven, from
whence they look for a Saviour. That we
may then the better know somewhat of the
dignity and riches of this inheritance, let us
consider the description that is here given us
of it. And first, it is
Incorruptible.] Although this seems to
be much the same with the third quality,
that fadeth not away, which is a borrowed
expression for the illustrating of its incor-
ruptibleness : yet I conceive there is some
difference, and that in these three qualities
there is a gradation. Thus it is caUed in-
corruptible, that is, it perisheth not, cannot
rome to nothing, is an estate that cannot be
spent; but though it were abiding, yet it
might be such, as the continuance of it were
not very desirable ; it would be but a misery
at best to continue always in this life. Plo-
tinus thanked God that his soul was not tied
to an immortal body. Then undefiled, it is
not stained with the least spot. This signi-
fies the purity and perfection of it, that the
perpetuity of it ; it doth not only abide, and
is pure, but those together, it abideth always
in its integrity. And lastly, it fadeth not away;
it doth not fade nor wither at all, is not some-
times more, sometimes less peasant, but ever
the same, still like itself, and that is the im-
mutability of it.
As it is incorruptible, it carries it away
from all earthly possessions and inheritances ;
for all those epithets are intended to signify
its opposition to the things of this world, and
to shew how far it excels them all. And
thus comparatively we are to consider it :
For as divines say of the knowledge of God
that we have here, the negative notion makes
up a great part of it, we know rather what
he is not, than what he is, infinite, incom-
prehensible, immutable, &c., so it is of this
happiness, this inheritance, and indeed it is
no other but God. We cannot tell you what
it is, but we can say so far what it is not,
as declares it is unspeakably above all the
most excellent things of the inferior world,
and this present life. It is by privatives, by
removing imperfections from it, that we de-
scribe it, and we can go no further, viz. in-
corruptible, undefiled, and. that fadeth not
away.
All things that we see being compounded,
may be dissolved again ; the very visible
heavens, that are the purest piece of the ma-
terial world, notwithstanding the pains the
philosopher takes to exempt them, the Scrip-
tures teach us that they are corruptible,
Psal. cii. 26, They shall perish, but thou
shall endure ; yea, all of them shall wax
old like a garment ; As a vesture shall thou
change the"m, and they shall be changed.
And from whence the apostle to the Hebrew*,
(chap. i. 10,) and our apostle in his other
epistle, (chap. iii. 11,) use the same expres-
sion. But it is needless to fetch too great
a compass, to evince the corruptibleness of
all inheritances. Besides what they are in
themselves, it is a shorter way to prove them
corruptible in relation to us, and our possess-
ing them, by our own corruptibleness and
corruption, or perishing out of this life in
which we enjoy them. We are here inter
peritura perituri ; the things are passing
which we enjoy, and we are passing who en-
joy them. An earthly inheritance is so
called in regard of succession ; but to every
one it is but at the most for term of life. As
one of the kings of Spain answered to one of
his courtiers, who, thinking to please his
master, wished that kings were immortal ;
' If that had been,' said he, ' I should never
vrn. 3, -I.]'
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
17
have been king.' When death comes, that
removes a man out of all his possessions to
give place to another ; therefore are these in-
heritances decaying and dying in relation to
us, because we decay and die ; and when a
man dies, his inheritances and honours, and
all things here, are at an end, in respect of
him : Yea, we may say the world ends to
him.
Thus Solomon reasons, that a man's hap-
piness cannot be upon this earth ; because it
must be some durable abiding thing that must
make him happy, abiding, to wit, in his en-
joyment. Now, though the earth abide, yet
because man abides not on the earth to
possess it, but one age drives out another,
one generation passeth, and another cometh,
relut unda impellitur undo, ; therefore his
rest and his happiness cannot be here.
UndejUed.] All possessions here are de-
filed and stained with many other defects and
failings, still somewhat wanting, some damp
on them, or crack in them ; fair houses, but
sad cares flying about the gilded and ceiled
roofs : stately and soft beds ; a full table, but
a sickly body and queasy stomach. As the
fairest face has some mole or wart in it, so
all possessions are stained with sin, either in
acquiring or in using them, and therefore
called mammonof unrighteousness, St. Luke
xvi. 9. Iniquity is so involved in the no-
tion of riches, that it can very hardly be
separated from them. St. Hierom says,
Veruni mihi videtur illud, dives ant ini-
quus est, aut iniqui hares. Foul hands
pollute all they touch ; it is our sin that de-
tiles what we possess ; it is sin that burdens
the whole creation, and presses groans out of
the very frame of the world, (Rom. viii. 22,)
For we know that the ichole creation groan-
eth, and travaileth in pain together until
now. This our leprosy defiles our houses,
the very walls and floors, our meat and drink,
and all we touch, polluted when alone, and
polluted in society, our meetings and conver-
sations together being for the greatest part
nothing but a commerce and interchange of
sin and vanity.
We breathe up and down in an infected
, air, and are very receptive of the infection, by
cur own corruption within us. We readily
turn the things we possess here to occasions
1 and instruments of sin, and think there is no
liberty nor delight in their use, without abus-
ing them. How few are they that can carry,
ias they say, a full cup even ? that can have
! digestion strong enough for the right use of
i great places and estates ? that can bear pre-
ferment without pride, and riches without
i covt-tousness, and ease without wantonness ?
Then as those earthly inheritances are
: 'stained with sin in their use ; so what grief,
.and strife, and contentions, about obtaining
' pr retaining them ? Doth not matter of pos-
fession, this same meitm and iunm, d-'vide |
many times the affections of those who are
knit together in nature, or other strait ties,
and prove the very apple of strife betwixt
nearest friends ?
If we trace great estates to their first ori-
ginal, how few will be found that owe not
their beginning, ' either to fraud, or rapine,
or oppression ? and the greatest empires and
kingdoms in the world, have had their foun-
dations laid in blood. Are not those defiled
inheritances ?
That withereth not. ] A borrowed speech,
alluding to the decaying of plants and flowers
that bud and flourish at a certain time of the
year, and then fade and wither, and in winter
are as if they were dead.
And this is the third disadvantage of pos-
sessions, and all things worldly, that they
abide not in one estate, but are in a more un-
certain and irregular inconstancy, than either
the -flowers and plants of the field, or the
moon, from which they are called sublunary ;
like Nebuchadnezzar's image, degenerating
by degrees into baser metals, and in the end
into a mixture of iron and clay.
The excellency then of this inheritance is,
that it is free from all those evils, falls not
under the stroke of time, comes not within
the compass of its scythe, that hath so
large a compass, and cuts down all other
things.
There is nothing in it weighing it to.
wards corruption. It is immortal, everlast-
ing, for it is the fruition of the immortal,
everlasting God, by immortal souls, and the
body rejoined with it, shall likewise be im-
mortal, having put on incorruption, as the
apostle speaks, 1 Cor. xv. 54.
That fadeth not away.] No spot of sin
nor sorrow there, all pollution wiped away,
and all tears with it ; no envy nor strife,
not as here among men, one supplanting
another, one pleading and fighting against
another, dividing this point of earth with fire
and sword : No, this inheritance is not the
less by division, by being parted amongst so
many brethren, every one hath it all, each
his crown, and all agreeing in casting them
down before his throne, from whom they
have received them, and in the harmony of
his praises.
This inheritance is often called a king-
dom, and a crown of glory. This word may
allude to those garlands of the ancients, and
this is its property, that the flowers in it are
all amaranthes, as a certain plant is named,
and so it is called, (1 Pet. v. 4,) a crown of
glory that fadeth not ait-ay.
No change at all there, no winter and
summer, not like the poor comforts here, but
a bliss always flourishing. The grief of the
saints here, is not so much for the changes
of outward things, as of their inward coin-
forts. Sitavis hora, sed brevis mora.
Sweet presences of God they sometimes have ;
R
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. r.
but tlicy are short and often interrupted :
But there, no cloud shall come betwixt them
and their sun : they shall behold him in his
full brightness for ever. As there shall be
no change in their beholding, so no weari-
ness nor abatement of their delight in be-
holding. They sing a new song, always the
same, and yet always new. The sweetest of
our music, if it were to be heard but for one
whole day, will weary them that are most
delighted with it. What we have here,
cloys, but satisfies not : The joys above
never cloy, and yet always satisfy.
We should here consider the last property
of this inheritance, namely, the certainty of
it.
Reserved in heaven for you.] But that
5s connected with the following verse, and so
will be fitly joined with it. Now for some
use of all this.
If these things were believed, they would
persuade for themselves ; we needed not add
any entreaties to move you to seek after this
inheritance : Have we not experience enough
of the vanity and misery of things corrupti-
ble ? and are not a great part of our days
already spent amongst them ? Is it not
time to eonsider whether we be provided of
any thing surer and better than what we
have here, if we have any inheritance to go
home to after our wandering ? or can say
with the apostle, (2 Cor. v. 1,) We know that
if our earthly house of this tabernacle were
dissolved, we have a building of God, an
houte not made with hands, eternal in
the heavens.
If those things gain our assent while we
hear them, yet it dies soon ; scarce any re-
tire themselves after to pursue those thoughts,
and to make a work indeed of them, but
busy their heads rather another way, build-
ing castles in the air, and spinning out their
thoughts in vain contrivances. Happy are
they whose hearts the Spirit of God sets and
fixes upon this inheritance ; they may join
in with the apostle, and say as here, Blessed
be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus
Christ, who hath begotten us again unto
this lively hope, to this inheritance incor-
ruptible, undejiled, and that fadeth not
away.
V K R. 5. Who are kept by the power of God through
faith unto salvation, ready to be revealed in the
last time.
IT is no doubt a great contentment to the
children of God to hear of the excellencies of
the life to come ; they do not use to become
weary of that subject ; yet there is one doubt,
that, if it be not removed, may damp their
delight in hearing and considering of all
the rest. The richer the estats is, it will
the more kindle the malice and diligence of
their enemies, to deprive them of it, and to
cut them short of possessing it. And this
they know, that those spiritual powers that
seek to ruin them, do overmatch them far,
both in craft and force.
Against the fears of this, the apostle com-
forts the heirs of salvation, assuring them,
that as the estate they look for is excellent,
so it is certain and safe, laid up there, where
it is out of the reach of adverse powers, re-
served in heaven for you. Besides, that
this is a further evidence of the worth and
excellency of this inheritance ; it makes it
sure ; it confirms what was said of its excel,
lency ; for it must be a thing of greatest
worth, that is laid up in the highest and
best place of the world, namely, in heaven
for you, where nothing that is impure once
enters, much less is laid up and kept. Thus
the land where this inheritance lies, makes
good all that hath been spoken of the dig
nity and riches of it.
But further, as it is a rich and pleasant
country where it lieth, it hath this privilege,
to be the alone land of rest and peace, free
from all possibility of invasion. There is
no spoiling of it, and laying it waste, and
defacing its beauty, by leading armies into
it, and making it the seat of war ; no noise
of drums nor trumpets, no inundations of
one people driving out another, and sitting
down in their possessions. In a word, as
there is nothing there subject to decay of it-
self, so neither is it in danger of fraud or
violence. When our Saviour speaks of this
same happiness, (St. Matth. vi. 20,) in alike
term, what is here called an inheritance, is
there called a treasure. He expresses the
permanency of it by these two, that it hath
neither moth nor rust in itself to corrupt
it ; nor can thieves break through and steal
it. There is a worm at the root of all our
enjoyments here, corrupting causes within
themselves ; and besides that, they are ex-
posed to injury from without, that may de-
prive us of them. How many stately pa-
laces, that have been possibly divers years in
building, hath fire upon a very small begin-
ning destroyed in a few hours ! What great
hopes of gain by traffic hath one tempest
mocked and disappointed ! How many that
have thought their possessions very sure, yet
have lost them by some trick of law ! And
others, as in time of war, driven from them
by the sword ! Nothing free from all dan-
ger, but this inheritance, that is laid up in
the hands of God, and kept in heaven for us.
The highest stations in the world, namely,
the estate of kings, they are but mountains
of prey, one robbing and spoiling another :
But in that holy mountain above, there is
none to hurt nor spoil, nor offer violence.
What the prophet speaks of the church here,
is more perfectly and eminently true of it
above, Isaiah Ixv. 25.
This is indeed a necessary condition
of our joy in the thoughts of this happy
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
1!)
estate, that we have some persuasion of our
propriety, that it is ours ; that we do not
speak and hear of it, as travellers passing by
a pleasant place do behold, and discourse of
its fair structure, the sweetness of the seat,
the planting, the gardens, and meadows that
are about it, and so pass on, having no fur-
ther interest in it. But when we hear of
this glorious inheritance, this treasure, this
kingdom that is pure, and rich, and lasting ;
we may add, it is mine, it is reserved in hea-
ven, and reserved for me ; I have reserved
the evidences, and the earnest of it ; and as
it is kept safe for me, so I shall likewise be
preserved to it, and that is the other part of
the certainty that completes the comforts of
it. See Eph. i. 14.
The salvation that Christ hath purchased
is indeed laid up in heaven, but we that seek
after it, are on earth, compassed about with
dangers and temptations. What avails it
us, that our salvation is in heaven, in the
place of safety and quietness, while we our-
selves are tossed upon the stormy seas of this
world, amidst rocks and shelves, every hour
in hazard of shipwreck ? Our inheritance is
in a sure hand indeed, our enemies cannot
come at it : but they may over-run and de-
stroy us at their pleasure, for we are in the
midst of them. Thus might we think and
complain, and lose the sweetness of all our
other thoughts concerning heaven, if there
were not as firm a promise for our own safety in
the midst of our dangers, as there is of the
safety of our inheritance, that is out of danger.
The assurance is full ; thus, it is kept for
us in heaven, and we kept on earth for it ;
as it is reserved for us, we are no less surely
preserved to it. There is here, 1. The state
itself, salvation. 2. The preservation, or
securing of those that expect it, kept. 3.
The time of full possession, in the last lime.
1 . The estate unto salvation. ] Before it
is called an inheritance ; here we are more
particularly told what is meant by that,
namely, salvation. This is more expressly
sure, being a deliverance from mis?ry, and
it imports withal the possession of perfect
happiness. The first part of our happiness
is to be freed from those miseries to which
we are subject by our guiltiness : To be set
free from the curse of the law, and the wrath
of God, from everlasting death. 2. From
all kind of mortality or decaying. 3. From
all power and stain of sin. 4. From all
temptation. 5. From all the griefs and
afflictions of this life : To have the perfection
of grace, to be full of holiness, and the per-
fection of bliss, full of joy in the continual
vision of God. But how little are we able to
say of this, our. apostle here teacheth us,
that it is veiled to us ; only so much shines
through, as we are capable of here : but the
revealed knowledge of it is only in the pos-
session ; it is to be revealed in the last time.
And, 2rf/y, Their preservation, with (he
causes of it, kept by the power of God
through faith. The inheritance is kept not
only in safety, but in quietness. The chil-
dren of God for whom it is kept, while they
are here, are kept safe indeed, but not un-
molested and unassaulted, they have enemies,
and such as are stirring, and cunning, and
powerful ; but in the midst of them, they
are guarded and defended ; they perish
not, according to the prayer of our Sa-
viour poured out for them, (John xvii. lo.)
/ pray not that thou .shouldest take them
out of the world, but that thou shouldest
keep them from the evil.
They have the prince of the power of the
air, and all his armies, all the forces he can
make, against them. Though his power is
nothing but tyranny and usurpation, yet be-
cause once they were under his yoke, he be-
stirs himself to pursue them, when they are
led forth from their captivity, as Exod. xiv.
5, 9, Pharoah, with all his chariots, and
horses, and horsemen, pursues after the
Israelites going out of Egypt.
The word in the original, Qoov^ev/jiwt,
there translated kept, is a military term,
used for those who are kept as in a fort or
garrison-town besieged. So Satan is still
raising batteries against this fort, using all
ways to take it by strength or stratagem ;
unwearied in his assaults, and very skilful to
know his advantages : and where we are
weakest, there to set on. And besides all
this, he hath intelligence with a p'arty within
us, ready to betray us to him ; so that it were
impossible for us to hold out, were there not
another watch and guard than our own, and
other walls and bulwarks than any that our
skill and industry can raise for our own de-
fence. In this then is our safety, that there
is a power above our own, yea, and above all
our enemies, that guards us, salvation itself
our waits and bulwarks. We oughfr to
watch, but when we do in obedience to our
Commander, the Captain of pur salvation,
yet it is his own Vatching, who sleeps not,
nor so much as slumbers ; it is that pre-
serves us, and makes ours not to be in vain,
Psal. cxxi. 1. Isa. xxvii. 3. And there-
fore those two are jointly commanded,
Watch and pray, that ye enter not into
temptation. Watch, there is the necessity
of our diligence : Pray, there is the insuf-
ficiency of it, and the necessity of his watch-
ing, by whose power we are effectually pre-
served, and that power is our fort, Isa. xxvi.
I. Salvation hath God appointed for
walls and bulwarks ; What more safe than
to be walled with salvation itself ? so, Prov,
xviii. 10, The name of the Lord is a
strong tower ; the righteous fly into it,
and are safe.
Now the causes are two : 1. Supreme, tht
power of God ; 2. Subordinate, faitk.
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP.
The supreme power of God, is that on which
depends our stability and perseverance.
When we consider how weak we are in our-
selves, yea, the very strongest amongst us,
and how assaulted, we wonder, and justly
we may, that any can continue one day in
the state of grace : But when we look on the
strength by which we are guarded, the power
of God ; then we see the reason of stability
to the end : for omnipotency supports us,
and the everlasting arms are under us.
Then faith is the second cause of our pre-
servation ; because it applies the first cause,
the power of God. Our faith lays hold
upon his power, and this power strengthens
faith, and so we are preserved ; it puts us
within those walls, sets the soul within the
guard of the power of God, which by self-
confidence, and vain presuming in its own
strength, is exposed to all kind of danger.
Faith is a humble, self-denying grace, makes
the Christian nothing in himself, and all in
God.
The weakest persons that are within a
strong place, women and children, though
*hey were not able to resist the enemy, if
they were alone ; yet so long as the place
wherein they are is of sufficient strength,
and well manned, and every way accommo-
date to hold out, they are in safety ; thus the
weakest believer is safe, because by believ-
ing he is within the strongest of all defences.
Faith is the victory, and Christ sets his
strength against Satan's ; and when the
Christian is hard beset with some tentation,
too strong for himself, then he looks up to
him that is the great conqueror of the powers
of darkness, and calls to him, " Now, Lord,
assist thy servant in this encounter, and put
to thy strength, that the glory may be thine."
Thus faith is such an engine as draws in
the power of God, and his Son Jesus, into
the works and conflicts that it hath in hand.
This is our victory, even our faith, 1 John
v. 4.
It is the property of a good Christian to
magnify the power of God, and to have high
thoughts of it, and therefore it is his privi-
lege to find safety in that power. David
cannot satisfy himself with one or two ex-
pressions of it, but delights in multiplying
them, (Psal. xviii. 2.) The Lord is my
rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer,
my God, my strength, in whom I will
trust, my buckler, and the horn of my
salvation, and my high tower. Faith looks
above all, both that which the soul hath, and
that which it wants, and answers all doubts
and fears with this almighty power ujon
which it rests.
3dly, The time of full possession, ready
to be revealed in the last time.] This
salvation is that great work wherein God in-
tended to manifest the glory of his grace,
contrived before time., and in the several ages
of the world brought forward, after the de>
creed manner ; and the full accomplishment
of it reserved for the end of time.
The souls of the faithful do enter into the
possession of it, when they remove from
their houses of clay ; yet is not their happi-
ness complete till that great day of the ap-
pearing of Jesus Christ ; they are naturally
imperfect till their bodies be raised, and re-
joined to their souls, to partake together of
their bliss : And they are mystically imper-
fect, till all the rest of the members of Jesus
Christ be added to them.
But then shall their joy be absolutely full
when both their own bodies and the mystical
body of Christ shall be glorified, when all
the children of that glorious family shall
meet, and sit down to that great marriage
supper at their Father's table. Then shall
the music of that new song be full, when
there is not one wanting of those that are
appointed to sing it for eternity. In that
day shall our Lord Jesus be glorified in his
saints, and admired in all them that be-
lieve, 2 Thess. i. 10.
You see what it is that the gospel offers
you, and you may gather how great both
your folly and your guiltiness will be, if you
neglect and slight so great salvation when it
is brought to you, and you are intreated to
receive it : This is all that the preaching of
the word aims at, and yet who hearkens to it ?
How few lay hold on this eternal life, this
inheritance, this crown that is held forth to
all that hear of it ?
Oh ! thatyou could bepersuadedtobesavedj
that you would be willing to embrace salvation.
You think you would ; but if it be so, then
I may say, though you would be saved, yet
your custom of sin, your love to sin, and love
to the w'orld, will not suffer you : And these
will still hinder you, unless you put on holy
resolutions to break through them, and tram,
pie them under foot, and take this kingdom
by a hand of violence, that God is so well
pleased with ; he is willingly overcome by
that force, and gives this kingdom most will-
ingly where it is so taken ; it is not attained
by slothfulness, and sitting still with folded
hands ; it must be invaded with strength of
faith, with armies of prayers and tears ; and
they that set upon it thus are sure to take it.
Consider what we are doing, how we mis-
place our diligence on things that abide not,
or we abide not to enjoy them. We have
no abiding city here, (saith the apostle) ;
but he adds, that which comforts the citi-
zens of the new Jerusalem, we look for one
to come, whose builder and maker is God.
Hear not those things idly, as if they con-
cerned you not, but let them move you to
resolution and actions ; say as they said of
Canaan, It is a good land, let us yo lip
and possess it. Learn to uss what you
have here as travellers, and let your home,
VER. G'.j
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
your inheritance, your treasure be on high,
which is by far the richest and the safest ;
and if it be so with you, then, where your
treasure is, there will your hearts be also.
there is nothing in the words, that may not
agree to all sorts of temptations the godly arc
subject to, yet I conceive it is particularly
meant of their afflictions and distresses, as the
apostle James likewise uses it, ch. i. ver. 2.
And they are so called, because they give
foraseason(ifneea be) ye are in heaviness through particular and notable proof of the temper of
manifold temptations. r .-,, ... ... •> , » , • j
a Christian s spirit, and draw forth evidence
THE same motives cannot beget contrary both of the truth, and the measure of the
passions in the soul, therefore the apostle re- grace that is in them. If they fail and are
VER. 6. Wherein ye greatly rejoice, though now
duces the mixture of sorrowing and rejoicing
that is usual in the heart of a Christian, to
the different causes of both, and shows which
of the two hath the stronger cause, and there-
fore is always predominant.
His scope is to stir up and strengthen
spiritual joy in his afflicted brethren ; and
therefore having set the matter of it before
them in the preceding verses, he now applies
it, and expressly opposes it to their distresses.
Some read those words exhortatively, In
which rejoice ye. It is so intended ; but I
conceive it serves that end better indicatively,
as we now read it, in which ye rejoice. It
exhorts in a more insinuating and persuasive
manner, that it may be so, to urge it on them
that it is so. Thus St. Paul, (Acts xxvi.
27.) King Agrippa, believest thou the pro-
phets ? I knoio that thou believest. And
straight he answered, Thou almost persuad-
est me to be a Christian. This implies how
just, and how reasonable it is, that the things
spoken of should make them glad ; they will
rejoice in those, yea do rejoice. Certainly if
you know and consider what the causes of
your joy are, ye cannot choose but find it
within you. and in such a measure as to
swallow up all your temporary sorrows, how
great and how many soever their causes be.
We are then to consider severally those
bitter waters and sweet, this sorrow, and
this joy, 1. In their springs; 2. In their
streams.
And first they are called temptations and
manifold temptations. The habits of divine
supernatural grace are not acquirable by hu-
man study, or industry, or by exercise, they
are of immediate infusion from heaven ; yet
are they infused to that end, that they may
act and exercise themselves in the several
conditions and occurrences of a Christian's
life, and by that they grow stronger. What-
soever oppositions or difficulties grace meets
with in its acting, go under this general name
of temptations. It is not necessary to reckon
up the variety of senses of this word in its
full latitude, how God is said to tempt man,
and how it is said that he tempts him not ;
how man tempts God, and how it is said that
God is not tempted ; how Satan tempts men,
and men one another, and a man himself.
All those are several acceptations of this word
But the temptations here meant, are the
things by which men are tempted, and par-
ticularly the saints of God And th< "
oiled, as sometimes they are, this convinces
hem of that human frailty and weakness that
s in them, and so humbles them, and drives
them out of themselves to depend upon an-
other for more strength and better success in
after encounters. If they acquit themselves
ike Christians indeed, the Lord managing
and assisting that grace which he hath given
hem, then all their valour, and strength, and
.•ictories, turn to his praise, from whom they
lave received all.
A man is not only unknown to others, but
:o himself, that hath never met with such
difficulties, as require faith and Christian
brtitude and patience to surmount them.
How shall a man know whether his meek-
ness and calmness of spirit be real or not,
while he meets with no provocation, nothing
that contradicts or crosses him ? But when
somewhat sets upon him, that is in itself very
unpleasant and grievous to him, and yet if in
that case he retains his moderation of spirit,
and flies not out into impatience, neither
against God nor men, this gives experiment
of the truth and soundness of th'at grace in
him ; whereas standing water that is glear at
top while it is untouched, yet if it have mud
at the bottom, stir it a little and it rises pre-
sently.
It is not altogether unprofitable, yea, it is
much wisdom in Christians, to be arming
themselves against such temptations as may
befal them hereafter, though they have not
as yet met with them ; to labour to overcome
them before-hand, to suppose the hardest
things that may be incident to them, and to
put on the strongest resolutions they can at-
tain unto ; yet all this is but an imaginary
effort ; and therefore there is no assurance
tha* the victory is any more than imaginary
too, uU it come to action, and _then they that
have spoken, and thought very confidently,
may prove but (as one said of the Athenians)
fortes in tabula, patient and courageous in
picture or fancy ; and notwithstanding al]
their arms, and dexterity in handling them
by way of exercise, may be foully defeated
when they are to fight in earnest. The
children of Ephraim being armed, and carry-
ing bows, says the Psalmist (Psal. Ixxviii.
9,) yet turned lack in the day of battle. It
is the battle that tries the soldier, and the
storm the pilot. How would it appear that
Christians can be themselves, not only patient,
but cheerful in poverty, in disgrace, anJ
A COMMENTARY UPON
22
temptations, and persecutions, if it were not
often their lot to meet with those ? He that
trained the heart knows it to be but deceitful,
and he that gives grace knows the weakness
and strength of it exactly ; yet he is pleased
to speak thus, that by afflictions and hard
tasks he tries what is in the hearts of his
children. For the word of God speaks to
men, and therefore it speaks the language of
the children of men : Thus Gen. xxii. 12,
Now I know that thou fearest God, see-
ing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine
only son, from me.
God delights to call forth his champions
to meet with great temptations, to make them
bear crosses of more than ordinary weight ;
as commanders in war put men of most va-
lour and skill upon the hardest services. God
sets some strong furious trial upon a strong
Christian, made strong by his own grace ;
and by his victory, makes it appear to the
world, that though there is a great deal of
the counterfeit coin of profession in religion,
yet some there are that have the power, the
reality of it, and that it is not an invention,
but there is truth in it ; that the evincible
grace, the very Spirit of God, dwells in the
hearts of true believers ; that he hath a num-
ber, that do not only speak big, but do in-
deed, and in good earnest, despise the world,
and overcome it, by his strength. Some men
take delight to see some kind of beasts fight
together ; but to see a Christian mind en-
countering some great affliction, and con-
quering it ; to see his valour in not sinking
at the hardest distresses of this life, nor the
mos* affrightful end of it, the cruellest kinds
of death, for his sake ; this, as one said, dig-
num Deo spectaculum, this is a combat that
God delights to look upon, and he is not a
mere beholder in it ;• for it is the power of his
awn grace that enables and supports the
Christian in all those conflicts and tempta-
tions.
Through manifold temptations.] This
expresses a multitude of temptations, and
those too of divers kinds, many and mani-
fold. It were no hard condition to have a
trial now and then, with long ease and pro-
sperity betwixt ; but to be plied with one
affliction at the heels of another, to have them
come thronging in by multitudes, and of
different kinds, uncouth unaccustomed evils,
such as a man hath not been acquainted with
before, this is that which is often the portion
of those that are the beloved of God, (Psalm
xlii. 7-) Deep calleth unto deep, at the
noise of thy water-spouts ; all thy waves
and thy billows are gone over me.
Ye are in heaviness.] This the apostle
blames not, but aims at the moderating of it.
Seek not altogether to dry up this stream,
but to bound it, and keep it within its banks.
Grace doth not destroy the life of nature, but
adds to it a life more excellent, yea, grace
[CHAP. i.
doth not only permit, but requires some feel-
ing of afflictions. There is an affected pride
of spirit in some men, instead of patience ;
suitable to the doctrine of the Stoics, as if. is
usually taken, they strive not to feel at all
the afflictions that are on them : but this is
to despise the correction of the Lord, which
is alike forbidden as fainting under it, Heb.
xii. We should not stop our ears, but hear
the rod and him that hath appointed it, a •
the prophet speaks, Mic. vi. 9. Where there
is no feeling at all, there can be no patience.
Consider it as the hand of God, and hence
argue the soul into submission, (Psal. xxxix.
9.) / was dumb, J opened not my mouth,
because thou didst it. But this heaviness
it mitigated, and set as it were within its
banks, betwixt these two considerations : 1.
The utility ; 2. The brevity of it. The
profitableness, and the shortness of it.
To a worldly man great gain sweetens the
hardest labour ; and to a Christian, spiritual
profit and advantage may do much to move
him to take with those afflictions well that
are otherwise very unpleasant, though they
are not joyous for the present ; yet this
allays the sorrow of them, the fruit that
grows out of them, that peaceable fruit of
righteousness, Heb. xii. 11.
A bundle of folly is in the heart of a
child, but the rod of correction thall beat it
out, saith Solomon. Though die children
of God are truly, as our Saviour calls them,
the children of wisdom ; yet being renewed
only in part, they are not altogether free from
those follies that call for this rod to beat
them out, and sometimes have such a bun-
dle of follies, as require a bundle of rods to
be spent upon it, many and manifold afflic-
tions.
It is not an easy matter to be drawn from
nor to be beaten from the love of this world,
and this is that which God mainly requires
of his children, that they be not in love with
the world, nor the things of it ; for that is
contrary to the love of God, and so far ;is
that is entertained, this is wanting. And it
in the midst of afflictions they are some-
times subject to this disease, how would it
grow upon them with ease and prosperity 5;
When they are beaten from one worldly
folly or delight, they are ready, through na-
ture's corruption, to lay hold upon some
other, being thrust out from it at one door,
to enter at some other : And as children
unwilling to be weaned, if one breast be im-
bittered, they seek to the other ; and there-
fore there must be somewhat to drive from
that too. Thus it is clear, there is need,
yea great need, of afflictions, yea of many
afflictions, that the saints be chastened by
the Lord, that they may not be condemned
with the world, 1 Cor. xi. 32.
Many resemblances there are for illustra-
tion of this truth, in things both of nature
VER. G.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
and of art ; some common, and others
choicer ; but these are not needful. The
experience of Christians tells them, how
easily they grow proud, and secure, and car-
nal, with a little ease, and when outward
things go smoothly with them ; and there-
fore what unhappiness were it for them to be
very happy that way ?
Let us learn then, that in regard of our
present frailty there is need of afflictions,
and so not promise ourselves exemption,
how calm soever our seas are for the present ;
and then for the number, and measure, and
weight of them, to resign that wholly into
the hands of our wise Father and Physician,
who perfectly knows our mould, and our
maladies, and what kind and quantity of
chastisement is needful for our cure.
Though now for a season (if need be)
ye are in heaviness.} The other conside-
ration that moderates this heaviness is its
shortness. Because we willingly forget
eternity, therefore this moment seems much
in our eyes ; but if we could look upon it
aright, of how little concernment is it, what
be our condition here ! If it were as prospe-
rous as we could wish or imagine, it is but
for a little season ; the rich man in the gos-
pel talked of many years, but Thou fool,
this night shall thy soul be required of thee,
was the longest period. The many years
quickly drawn to a very great abatement,
and, if full of pains and griefs, those do help
to put an end to themselves, and hasten to
it. Then well might St. Austin say, Hie
ure, cade, modo ibi parcas. Use me here
as pleaseth thee, so as that hereafter it may
be well with me.
Wherein.] This word, though it can-
not fall amiss, being referred to any particu-
lar to which interpreters have appropriated
it, yet it is rather to be taken as relative to
the whole complex sense of the preceding
verses, concerning the hope of glory. In
this thing ye rejoice, that ye are begotten
again, that there is such an inheritance, and
that you are made heirs of it ; that it is kept
for you, and you for it ; that nothing can
come betwixt you and it, to disappoint you
of possessing and enjoying it, though there
be many deserts and mountains, and seas in
the way, yet you are ascertained, that you
shall come safely thither.
This is but one thing, but the cause of
your grief is temptations and manifold
temptations, yet this one thing weighs down
all that multitude ; the heart being grieved
in one thing, naturally looks out for its ease
to some other ; and there is usually some-
what that is a man's great comfort, that he
turns his thoughts to, when he is crossed and
afflicted in other things : But herein lies the
folly of the world, that the things they
choose for their refuge and comfort, are such
as may change themselves, and turn into
discomfort and sorrow ; but the godly man,
that is, the fool in the natural man's eyes,
goes beyond all the rest in his wise choice
in this. He rises above all that is subject
to change, casts his anger within the vail.
That in which he rejoiceth is still matter of
joy unmoveable and unalterable, though not
only his estate, but the whole world, were
turned upside down, yet this is the same, or
rather in the Psalmist's words, Though the
earth were removed, and the greatest
mountains cast into the sea, yet will not
we fear, Psal. xlvi. 2. When we shall
receive that rich and pure, and abiding in-
heritance, that salvation that shall be reveal-
ed in the last time, and when time itself
shall cease to be, then there shall be no more
reckoning of our joys by days and hours,
but they shall run parallel with eternity.
When all our love, that is scattered and
parcelled out upon the vanities amongst
which we are here, shall be united and ga-
thered into one, and fixed upon God, and the
soul filled with the delight of his presence.
The sorrow was limited and bounded by
these considerations we spoke of: but this
joy, this exultation, and leaping for joy, for
so it is, is not bounded, it cannot be too
much ; its measure is to know no measure.
The afflictions, the matter of heaviness, are
but a transient touch of pain ; but that
whereon this joy is built is most permanent,
the measure of it cannot exceed, for the
matter of it is infinite and eternal, beyond
all hyperbole. There is no expression we
have can reach it, much less go beyond it ;
itself is the hyparbole, still surpassing all
that can be said of it. Even in the midst of
heaviness itself, such is this joy that can
maintain itself in the depth of sorrow ; this
oil of gladness still swims above and cannot
be drowned by all the floods of affliction, yea,
it is often most sweet in the greatest distress.
Then the soul relishes spiritual joy test,
when it is not glutted with worldly delights,
but finds them turned into bitterness.
For application. In that we profess our.
selves Christians, we all pretend to be the
sons of God, and so heirs of this glory ; and
if each man were particularly asked, he
would say, he hoped to attain it : But if
there were nothing else, this may abundant-
ly convince us, that the greatest part of us
delude ourselves, and are deceived in this ;
for how few are there that do really find this
height of joy, gladness, and exultation, in
their thoughts and hopes of it, that do daily
more refresh and glad themselves with the
consideration of that which is laid up for
them above, than with all their enjoyment*
here below !
Consider how the news of some small out.
ward advantage that is to come to us, raises
our light vain hearts, and makes them leap
within us ; and vet this news of a kingdom
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CUAP. I.
prepared for us, if we be indeed believers,
stirs us not, our hearts are as little affected
with it as if it concerned us not at all : and
this is too clear an evidence against us, that
indeed it concsrns us not, our portion as yet
is not in it.
In what a fool's paradise will men be with
the thoughts of worthless things, and such
things too as they shall never obtain, nor
ever shall have any further being than what
they have in their fancy ! And how will
men frequently roll over in their minds the
thoughts of any pleasing good they hope
for ! And yet we that say, we have hopes
of the glory to come, can pass many days
without one hour spent in the rejoicing
thoughts of the happiness we look for. If
any of a mean condition for the present were
made sure to become very rich, and be ad-
vanced to great honour within a week, and
after that to live to a great age in that high
estate, enjoying health and all imaginable
pleasures ; judge ye, whether in the few
days betwixt the knowledge of those news
and the enjoying them, the thoughts of what
he were to attain to, would not be frequent
with him, and be always welcome. There
is no comparison betwixt all we can imagine
this way, and the hopes we speak of: and
yet how seldom are our thoughts upon those,
and how faint and slender is our rejoicing in
them ! Can we deny that it is unbelief of
those things that causeth this neglect and
forgetting of them ? The discourse, the
tongue t>f men and angels, cannot beget di-
vine belief of the happiness to come ; only
he that gives it, gives faith likewise to ap-
prehend it, and lay hold upon it, and upon
our believing to be filled with joy in the
hopes of it.
VER. 7. That the trial of your faith, being much
more precious than of gold that perisheth, though
Jt be tried with fire, might be found unto praise,
and honour, and glory, at the appearing of Jesus
Christ.
" THE way of the just," says Solomon,
" is as the shining light, that shineth more
and more to the perfect day." Still mak-
ing forward, and ascending towards perfec-
tion, moving as fast when they are clouded
with affliction as at any time else ; yea, all
that seems to work against them, furthers
them. Those graces that would possibly
grow heavy and unwieldy by too much ease,
are held in breath, and increase their acti-
vity and strength by conflict. Divine grace,
even in the heart of weak and sinful man, is
an invincible thing. Drown it in the waters
of adversity, it rises more beautiful, as not
being drowned indeed, but only washed ;
throw it into the furnace of fiery trials, it
comes out purer, mid loses nothing but the
dross, which our corrupt nature mixes with
it. Tims here the apostle expounds the if
wed he of the fonner verse, and so justifies
the joy in afflictions, which there he speaks
of, by their utility and faith's advantage by
them ; it is so tried that it shall appear in
its full brightness at the revelation of Jesus
Christ.
The peculiar treasure of a Christian being
the grace that he receives from heaven, and
particularly that sovereign grace of faith,
whatsoever he can be assured will better him
any way in this, he will not only bear it pa-
tiently, but gladly embrace it, Rom. v. 3.
Therefore the apostle sets this before his
brethren in those words of this verse, where
is, 1. The worth and excellency of faith ;
2. The usefulness of temptations in relation
to it.
1st, The worth and excellency of faith.
The trial of faith is called more precious, a
work of more worth than the trial of gold,
because faith itself is of more value than
gold : The apostle chooses this comparison,
as fitting his purpose for both, for the illus-
tration of the worth of faith, and likewise
the use of temptations, representing the one
by gold, and the other by the trying of gold
in the fire.
The worth of gold is, 1. Real, the purest
and most precious of all metals, having many
excellent properties beyond them, as they
that write of the'nature of gold observe. 2.
Far greater in the esteem and opinion of
men. See how man hurry up and down,
over sea and land, unwearied in their pur-
suit, with hazard of life, and often with the
loss of uprightness and a good conscience ;
and not only thus esteem it in itself, but
make it the rule of their esteem one of ano-
ther, valuing men less or more, as they are
more or less furnished with it. And we see
at what a height that is ; for things we
would commend much, we borrow its name
to them, viz. golden mediocrity ; and that
age which they would call the best of all,
they name it the golden age : And as Se-
neca observes, describing heavenly things,
as Ovid the sun's palace and chariot, still
gold is the word for all.
And the holy Scriptures, descending to
our reach, do set forth the riches of the new
Jerusalem by it, Rev. xxi. and the excel-
lency of Christ, Cant. v. 11, 14. And here
the preciousness of faith, whereof Christ is the
object, is said to be more precious than gold*
I will not insist on the parallel of faith
with gold, in the other qualities of it, as that
it is pure and solid as gold, and that it is
most ductile and malleable as gold ; beyond
all other metals, it plies any way with the
will of God. But then faith truly enriches
the soul : And as gold answers all things, so
faitli gives the soul propriety to all the rich
consolations of the Gospel, to all tl e pro-
mises of life and salvation, to all ue2dful
blessings ; it draws virtue from Christ to
strengthen itself, and all other graces.
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
25
And thus it is not only precious as gold,
but goes far above the comparison ; it is
more precious, yea, much more precious, 1.
In its original ; the other is digged out of
the bowels of the earth, but the mine of this
gold is above, it comes from heaven. 2. In
its nature, answerable to its original, it is
immaterial, spiritual, and pare. We refine
gold and make it purer, but when we receive
foith pure of itself, we mix dross with it,
and make it impure by the alloy of unbe-
lief. 3. In its endurance, flowing from the
former, it perisheth not. Gold is a thing
in itself corruptible and perishing, and to
particular owners, it perisheth in their loss
of it, being deprived of it any way.
Other graces are likewise tried in the same
furnace ; but faith is named as the root of
all the rest. Sharp afflictions give a Chris-
tian a trial of his love to God, whether it be
sirigl;:, and for himself or not ; for then it
will be the same when he strikes, as when
he embraces, and in the fire of affliction will
rather grow the hotter, and be more taken off
from the world, and set upon him. Again,
the grace of patience is put particularly \ipon
trial in distresses. But both these spring
from faith. For love rises from a right and
strong belief of the goodness of God ; and
patience from a persuasion of the wisdom
and love of God, and the truth of his pro-
mises. He hath said, / will not fail thee,
and that we shall not be tempted above our
strength, and he will give the issue. Now
the belief of these things causes patience.
The trial of faith worketh patience, Jam. i.
3. For therefore doth the Christian resign
up himself, and all that concerns him, his
trials, the measure and length of them all,
unto God's disposal, because he knows that
he is in the hands of a wise and loving Fa-
ther. Thus the trial of these, and other par-
ticular graces, doth still resolve into this,
and is comprised under the trial of faith.
This brings us,
2<ily, To the usefulness of temptations in
relation to it.
This trial, as that of gold, may be for a
two-fold end : 1 . For experiment of the truth
and pureness of a Christian's faith. 2. For
refining it yet more, and to raise it to a
higher pitch or degree of pureness. •
1. The furnace of affliction shows upright
real faith to be such indeed, remaining still
the same even in the fire, the same that it
was, undiminished, as good gold loses none
of its quantity in the fire. Doubtless many
are deceived in time of ease and prosperity
with imaginary faith and fortitude : So that
there may b; still some doubt while a man
is underset with outward helps, as riches,
friends, esteem, &c. whether he leans upon
those, or upon God, who is an invisible sup.
port, though stronger than all that are visible,
and is the peculiar and alone stay of faith in
all conditions. But when all these outward
props are plucked away from a man, then it
will be manifest, whether something else up-
holds him or not ; for if there be nothing
else, then he falls ; but if his mind stands
firm, and unrcmoved as before, then it is evi.
dent he laid not his weight upon these things
he had then about him ; but was built upon
a foundation, though not seen, which is able
alone to stay him, although he be not only
frustrated of all other supports, but beaten
upon with storms and tempests, as our Sa-
viour says, the house fell not, because it was
founded on a rock, Matth. vii. 25.
This testified the truth of David's faith,
who found it staying him upon God, when
there was nothing else near that could do it,
I had fainted, unless I had believed, Psal.
xxvii. 13 ; so in his strait, 1 Sam. xxx. 6,
where it is said that David was greatly dis-
tressed ; but he encouraged himself in the
Lord his God. Thus Psal. Ixxiii. 26, My
Jiesh and my heart faileth ; but God is the
strength of my heart and portion for ever.
The heart's natural strength of spirit and
resolution may bear up under outward weak,
ness, or the failing of the flesh : but when
the heart itself fails, that is, the strength of
the flesh, what shall strengthen it ? nothing
but 'God, who is the strength of the heart
and its portion for ever. Thus faith work-
eth alone, when the case suits that of the
Prophet's, Hab. iii. 17, Although the fig.
tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be
in the vines, &c. yet, ver. 18, / frill rejoice
in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my
salvation.
In spiritual trials that are the sharpest and
most fiery of all, when the furnace is within
a man, when- God doth not only shut up his
loving-kindness from its feeling, but seems to
shut it up in hot displeasure, when he writes
bitter things against it ; yet then to depend
upon him, and wait for his salvation, thjs is
not only a true, but a strong, and veiy re-
fined faith indeed, and the more he smites,
he more to cleave to him. Well might he
say, When I am tried, I shall come forth
as gold, who could say that word, Though
he slay me, yet will I trust in him ; though
I saw, as it were, his hand lifted up to de-
stroy me, yet from that same hand would I
expect salvation.
2. As the furnace shews faith to be what
it is, so also it belters it, and makes it more
precious and purer than it was.
The graces of the Spirit, as they come
from the hand of God that infuses them, are
nothing but pureness : but being put into a
heart where sin dwells, (which till the body
be dissolved and taken to pieces, cannot be
fully purged out,) there they are mixed with
corruption and dross. And particularly faith
is mixed with unbelief, and love of earthly
things, and depcn-.lencc upon the creature, if
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. i.
not more than God, yet together with him :
and for this is the furnace needful, that the
soul may be purified from this dross, and
made more sublime and spiritual in believ-
ing. It is a hard task, and many times
comes but slowly forward, to teach the heart
by discourse and speculation to set loose from
the world at all sides, not to cleave to the
best things in it, though we be compassed
about with them, though riches do increase,
yet not to set our hearts on them, Psal. Ixii.
10, not to trust in such uncertain things,
I Tim. vi. 17, as they are, as the apostle
speaks. Therefore God is pleased to choose
the more effectual way to teach .his own the
right and pure exercise of faith, either by
withholding or withdrawing those things
from them. He makes them relish the
sweetness of spiritual comfort, by depriving
them of those outward comforts whereon they
were in most danger to have doated to ex-
cess, and so to have forgotten themselves and
him ; when they are reduced to necessity,
and experimentally trained up, easily to let
go their hold of any thing earthly, and to
stay themselves only upon their Rock, this
is the very refining of their faith, by those
losses and afflictions wherewith they are
exercised. They that learn bodily exercises,
as fencing, &c. are not taught by sitting
still, and hearing rules, or seeing others
practise, but they learn by exercising them-
selves. The way to profit in the art of be-
lieving, or coming to this spiritual activity
of faith, is, to be often put to that work in
the most difficult way, to make up all wants
and losses in God, and to sweeten the bitter-
est griefs with his loving kindness.
Might be found unto praise, and ho-
nour, and glory.] This is the end that is
intended, and shall be certainly obtained by
all these hot trials. Faith shall come through
them all, and shall be found unto praise,
&c. An unskilful beholder may think it
strange to see gold thrown into the fire, and
3eft there for a time; but he that puts it
there would bs loth to lose it ; his purpose is
to make some costly piece of work of it :
Every believer gives himself to Christ, and
he undertakes to present them blameless to
•the Father ; not one of them shall be lost,
nor one drachm of their faith ; they shall be
found, and their faith shall be found when
he appears. That faith that is here in the
furnace shall be then made up into a crown
of pure gold, it shall be found unto praise,
and honour, and glory.
This praise, and honour, and glory, may
be referred to believers themselves, according
to the apostle St. Paul's expression, Rom.
11. 7j or to Christ that appears : But the
two will agree well together, that it be both
to their praise, and to the praise of Christ ;
for certainly all their praise and glory shall
terminate in the glory of their head Christ,
who is God blessed for ever ; they have each
their crown, but their honour is, to cast them
all down before his throne. He shall be
glorified in his saints, and admired in them
that believe. They shall be glorious in him ;
and therefore in all their glory he shall be
glorified : For as they have derived their
glory from him, it shall all return back to
him again.
At the appearance of Christ Jesus.~\
This denotes the time when this shall come
to pass ; for Christ is faithful and true ;
he hath promised to come again, and to
judge the world in righteousness, and he will
come, and will not tarry ; he shall judge
righteously in that day, who was himself un-
righteously judged here on earth. It is call-
ed the revelation ; all other things shall be
revealed in that day, the most hidden things,
good and evil unveiled ; but it is eminently
the day of his revelation, it shall be by his
light, by the brightness of his coming, that
all other things shall be revealed ; but he
himself shall be the worthiest sight of all :
All eyes shall behold him. He shall then
gloriously appear before all men and angels,
and shall by all be acknowledged to be the
Son of God, and judge of the world : Some
shall with joy know him, and acknowledge
him to be so, others to their horror and
amazement. How beautiful shall he be to
those that love him, when he as the glorious
Head shall appear with his whole body mys-
tical together with him !
Then the glory and praise that all the
saints shall be honoured with, shall recom-
pense fully all the scorns and ignominies,
and distresses they have met with here. And
they shall shine the brighter for them. Oh !
I if we considered often of that solemn day,
how light should we set by the opinions of
men, and all outward hardships that can be-
fal us ! How easily should we digest dis-
praise and dishonour here, and pass through
all cheerfully, provided we may be then
found in him, and so partakers of praise, and
glory, and honour, in that day of his ap-
pearing !
VEH. 8. Whom having not seen, ye love ; in whom,
though now ye see him not, yet believing, >e re-
joice with joy unspeakable, and full of glory :
VKR. 9. Receiving the end of your faith, even the
salvation of your souls.
IT is a paradox to the world that the apos-
tle hath asserted, that there is a joy that can
subsist in the midst of sorrow ; therefore he
insists in the confirmation of it ; and in all
those words proves it to the full, yea with
advantage, that the saints have not only
some measure of joy in the griefs that abound
upon them here, but excellent and eminent
joy, such as makes good all that can be said
of it, cannot be spoke too much of, for it is
unspeakable, not too much magnified, for it
is glorious.
VEIL «, P.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
27
To evidence the truth of this, and to con-
firm his brethren in the experienced know-
ledge of it, he expresses here more particu-
larly and distinctly the causes of this their
joy, which are,
1. The object or matter of it ; The ap-
prehension and appropriation of that object ;
which two conjoined, are the entire cause of
all rejoicing.
1. The object is Jesus Christ, ver. 8, and
the salvation purchased by him, ver. 9, for
these two cannot be severed, and these two
verses that speak cf them, require, as is evi-
dent by their connection, to be considered
together. 2. The apprehension of these,
set forth, 1. Negatively, not by bodily sight ;
2. Positively, whereas that might seem to
abate the certainty and liveliness of their re-
joicing, that it is of things they had not
seen, nor do yet see, that is abundantly made
up by three for one, each of them more ex-
• ceUeiit than the mere bodily sight of Christ
in the flesh, which many had, which were
never the better by it ; the three are, those
three prime Christian graces, faith, love, and
hope ; the two former in ver. 8, the third in
ver. 9. Faith in Christ begetting love to
him, and both these giving assured hope of
salvation by him, making it as certain to them,
as if it were already in their hand, and they
in possession of it. And from all those together
results this exultation, or leaping for joy, joy
unspeakable and full of glory.
This is that one thing that so much con-
cerns us, and therefore we mistake very far,
and forget our own highest interest too much,
when we either speak or hear of it slightly,
and apply not our hearts to it. What is it
that all our thoughts and endeavours drive
at ? What means all that we are doing in
the world ? Though we take several ways to
it, and wrong ways for the most part, yea,
such ways as lead not to it, but set us far-
ther off from it ; yet that which we all seek
after, by all our labour under the sun, is
something that may be matter of content-
ment and rejoicing to us when we have at-
tained it : Now here it is, and in vain is it
sought for elsewhere. And for this end it is
represented to you, that it may be yours, if
ye will entertain it ; not only that you may
know this to be a truth, that in Jesus Chrisi
is laid up true consolation and rejoicing, tha
he is the magazine and treasury of it, bu
that you may know how to bring him home
into your hearts, and lodge him there, an<
so to have the spring of joy within you.
That which gives full joy to the soul must
be something that is higher and better than
itsel . In a word, he that made t, can o ,ly
make it glad after this manner, with unspeak-
able and glorious joy. But the soul re-
maining guilty of rebellion against him, and
unreconciled, cannot behold him but as an
enemy ; any belief that it can have of him
while it is in that pos'.ure, is not such as can
etch love and hope, and so rejoicing ; but
uch as the faith of devils produceth, only be-
getting terror and trembling. But the light
his countenance shining in the faca of
lis Son the Mediator, glads the heart ; and
t is the looking upon him so, that causeth
he soul to believe, and love, and hope, and
•cjoice. Therefore the apostle, Eph. ii. 12,
n his description of the estate of the Gen-
tiles before Christ was preached to them,
oins these together, without Christ, that
was the cause of all the rest ; therefore, with-
out comfort in the promises, without hope,
and without God in the world ; so he is here
>y our apostle expressed as the object. In
all these therefore he is the matter of our joy,
>ecause our faith, and love, and hope of sal-
tation, do centre in him.
The apostle writing to the dispersed Jews,
many of whom had not known nor seen Christ
n the flesh, commends their love and faith,
x>r this reason, that it did not depend upon
jodily sight, but was pure and spiritual,
and made them of the number of those that
our Saviour himself pronounced blessed, who
have not seen, and yet believe. You saw
him not when he dwelt amongst men, and
walking to and fro, preaching and working
miracles. Many of those that did then hear
and see him, believed not ; yea, they scoffed,
and hated, and persecuted him, and in the
end crucified him : You that have seen none
of all those things, yet having heard the gos-
pel that declares him, you have believed.
Thus observe, the working, or not work-
ing of faith, doth not depend upon the dif-
ference of the external ministry and gifts of
men : For what greater difference can there
be that way, than betwixt the master and
the sen-ants, betwixt the great Prophet him-
self, and his weak sinful messengers ? and
yet many of those that saw and heard him
in person were not converted, believed Jiot
in him ; and thousands that never saw him,
were converted by his apostles, and, as it
seems, even some of thoss that were some
way accessory to his death, yet were brought
to repentance by this same apostle's sermon,
Acts ii.
Learn then to look above the outward mi-
nistry and any difference that in God's dis-
pensation can be there, and know, that if
Jesus Christ himself were on earth, and now
preaching amongst us, yet might his incom-
parable words be unprofitable to us, not be-
ing mixed with faith in the hearers. But
where that is, the meanest and the most des-
piseable conveyance of his message, received
with humility and affection, will work bless-
ed effects.
Whom not seeing yet believing.] Faith
el:vates the soul not only above sense, and
sensible things, but above reason itself. As
reason corrects the errors that sense might
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. i.
occasion ; so supernatural faith corrects the
errors of natural reason, judging according to
sense.
The sun seems less than the wheel of a
chariot : but reason teaches the philosopher,
that it is much bigger than the whole earth,
and the cause why it seems so little is its
great distance.
The naturally wise man, is as far deceived
by this carnal reason in his estimate of Jesus
Christ the sun of righteousness, and the
cause is the same, his great distance from
him, as the Psalmist speaks of the wicked,
(Psal. x. 5.) Thy judgments are far above
out of his siffht. He accounts Christ and
his glory a smaller matter than his own gain,
honour, or pleasure ; for these are near him,
and he sees their quantity to the full, and
counts them bigger, yea far more worth than
they are indeed. But the apostle Paul, and
all that are enlightened by the same spirit,
they know by faith, which is divine reason,
that the excellency of Jesus Christ far sur-
passes the wortli of the whole earth, and all
things earthly, Phil. iii. 1, 8.
To give a right assent to the gospel of
Christ is impossible without divine and sav-
ing faith, infused in the soul, to believe that
the eternal Son of God clothed himself with
human flesh, and dwelt amongst men in a
tabernacle like theirs, and suffered death in
the flesh, that he who was Lord of life, hath
freed us from the sentence of eternal death,
that he broke the bars and chains of death,
and rose again, that he went up into heaven,
and there at the Father's right hand sits in
our flesh, and that glorified above the angels.
This is the great mystery of godliness. And
a part of this mystery is, that he iv believed
on in the world, 1 Tim. iii. l(J. This na-
tural men may discourse of, and that very
knowingly, and give a kind of natural credit
to it, as to a history that may be true ; but
firmly to believe, that there is divine truth
in all these things, and to have a persuasion
of it stronger than of the very things we see
with our eyes ; such an assent as this, is the
peculiar work of the Spirit of God, and is
certainly saving faith.
The soul that so believes, cannot choose
but love ; it is commonly true, the eye is the
ordinary door by which love enters into the
soul, and it is true in this love : though it is
denied to the eye of sense, yet you see it is
ascribed to the eye of faith, though you have
not seen him you love him, because you be-
lieve ; which is to see him spiritually. Faith
indeed is distinguished from that vision that
is in glory ; but it is the vision of the king,
dom of grace, it is the eye of the new crea-
ture, that quick-sighted eye, that pierces all
the visible heavens, and sees above them,
that looks to things that are not seen, 2 Cor.
iv. 18, and is the evidence of things not
ejen, Heb. xi. 1, that sees him that is in-
visible, ver. 27- It is possible that one may
36 much loved upon the report of his worth
and virtues, and upon a picture of him, live-
ly drawn, before sight of the party so com-
mended and represented ; but certainly when
de is seen, and found answerable to the for-
mer, it raises the affection that it first begun
to a far greater height. We have the re-
port of the perfections of Jesus Christ in the
gospel ; yea, so clear a description of him,
that it gives a picture of him, and that, to-
•ether with the sacraments, are the only law-
ful and the only lively pictures of our Sa-
viour, Gal. iii. 1. Now faith believes this
report, and beholds this picture, and so lets
in the love of Christ to the soul ; but fur-
ther, it gives a particular experimental know-
ledge of Christ, and acquaintance with him.
It causes the soul to find all that is spoken
of him in the Word, and his beauty ther3
represented, to be abundantly true, makes it
really taste of his sweetness, and by that
possesses the heart more strongly with his
love, persuading it of the truth of those things,
not by reasons and arguments, but by an in-
expressible kind of evidenca, that they only
know that have it. Faith persuades a Chris-
tian of these two things, that the philosopher
gives as the cause of all love, beauty and
propriety, the loveliness of Christ in himself,
and our interest in him.
The fanner it effectuates, not only by the
first apprehending and believing of those his
excellencies and beauty, but by frequent be-
holding of him, and eyeing him in whom all
perfection dwells, and looks so oft on him,
till it sets the very impression of his image,
as it were upon the soul, that it can never be
blotted out and forgot. The latter it doth by
that particular uniting act, which makes him
our God and our Saviour. We proceed there-
fore to consider,
2dly, The appropriation of the object, ye
love.} The distinctions that some make of
love, need not be taken as of different kinds,
but different actings of the same love, by
which we may try our so much pretended
love of Christ, which in truth is so rarely
found. There will then be in this love, if it
be right, these three qualities, good-will, de-
light, and desire.
\st, Good-will, earnest wishing, and a>
we can, promoting God's glory, and stirring
up others so to do. They that seek more
their own things than the things of Jesus
Christ, more their own praise and esteem
than his, are strangers to this divine love :
For it seeks not her own things. This bit-
ter root of self-love is most hard to pluck
up : This strongest and sweetest love of
Christ alone doth it actually, though gradu-
ally. This love makes the soul, as the lower
heaven, slow in its own motion, most swift
in the motion of that first that wheels it about ;
sa the higher degree of love, the mare swift/-
<TEB. », 9.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
It loves the hardest tasks and greatest diffi-
culties, where it may perform God service,
either in doing, or in suffering for him. It
is strong as death, and many waters can-
not quench it, Cant. viii. 6, "]. The great-
er the task is, the more real is the testimony
and expression of love, and therefore the more
acceptable to God.
2dly, There is in true love a complacency
and delight in God ; a conformity to his
will ; loving what he loves : It is studious
of his will, ever seeking to know more clear-
ly what it is that is most pleasing to him,
contracting a likeness to God in all his ac-
tions, hy conversing with him, frequent con-
templating of God, and looking on his beauty.
As the eye lets in this affection, so it serves
it constantly, and readily looks that way that
love directs it. Thus the soul that is pos-
sessed with this love of Jesus Christ, the
soul which hath its eye much upon him, of-
ten thinking on his fonr.er sufferings and
present glory, the more it looks upon Christ,
the more it loves ; and still the more it loves,
the more it delights to look upon him.
3rf///, There is in true love a desire ; for
it is but small beginnings and tastes of his
goodness that the soul hath here, therefore it
is still looking out and longing for the day
of marriage ; the time is sad and wearisome,
and seems much longer than it is while it is
detained here. I desire to be dissolved,
saith St. Paul, and to be tcith Christ, Phil,
i. 2fl.
God is the sum of all things lovely. Thus
excellently Greg. Nazian. expresð himself,
Orat. 1, " If I have any possessions, health,
credit, learning, this is all the contentment
I have of them, that I have somewhat I may
despise for Christ, who is totus desiderabi-
lis, et totum desiderabile." And this love
is the sum of all he requires of us ; it is that
which makes all our meanest services accep-
table, and without which all we offer to him
is distasteful. God doth not only deserve
our love by his matchless excellencies and
beauty, but by his matchless love to us, and
that is the strongest loadstone of love, He
hath loved me, said the apostle, Gal. ii. 20.
How appears that ? in no less than this,
He hath given himself for me. Certainly
then there is no clearer character of our love
than this, to give ourselves to him, that hath
so loved us, and given himself for us.
This affection must be bestowed some-
wnere : There is no man but hath some
prime choice, somewhat that is the predo-
minant delight of his soul ; will it not then
be our wisdom to make the worthiest choice ?
seeing it is offered us, and is extreme folly
to reject it.
Grace doth not pluck up by the roots, and
wholly destroy the natural passions of the
mind, because they are distempered by sin :
that were an extreme icmedy, to cure by kill-
ing, and heal by cutting off: No, but it
corrects the distemper in them ; it dries not
up this main stream of love, but purifies it
from the mud it is full of in its wrong course,
or calls it to its right channel, by which it
mayrun into happiness, and empty itself
into the ocean of goodness. The Holy Spirit
turns the love of the soul towards God in
Christ, for in that way only can it apprehend
his love : So then Jesus Christ is the first
object of this divine love ; he is medium uni-
onis, through whom God conveys the sense
of his love to the soul, and receives back its
ove to him.
And if we will consider his incomparable
>eauty, we may look on it in the holy Scrip-
ures, particularly in that divine song of loves,
wherein Solomon borrows all the beauties of
:he creatures, dips his pencil in all their se-
veral excellencies, to set him forth unto us,
who is the Chief of ten thousands. There
s an inseparable intermixture of love with
aelief, and a pious affection, receiving divine
truth ; so that, in effect, as we distinguish
them, they are mutually strengthened, the
one by the other, and so though it ssem a
circle, it is a divine one, and falls not under
censure of the SchooFs pedantry. If you
ask, how shall I do to love 9 I answer, be-
lieve. If you ask, how shall I believe ? I
answer, love. Although these expressions to
a carnal mind are altogether unsavoury, by
gross mistaking them ; yet to a soul taught
to read and hear them, by any measure of
that same spirit of love wherewith fliey were
penned, they are full of heavenly and unut-
terable sweetness.
Many directions, and means of begetting
and increasing this love of Christ may be
here offered, and they that delight in num-
ber may multiply them ; but sure this one
will comprehend the greatest and best part,
if not all of them, Believe, and you shall love ;
believe much, and you shall love much ; ]p-
bour for strong and deep persuasions of the
glorious things that are spoken of Christ, and
this will commanrl love. Certainly did men
indeed believe his worth, thej would accord-
ingly love him ; for the reasonable creature
cannot but affect that most which it firmly
believes to bs worthy of affection. O ! this
mischievous unbelief is that which makes the
heart cold and dead towards God. Seek
then to believe Christ's excellency in himself,
and his love to us, and our interest in him,
and this will kindlj such a fire in the heart
as will make it ascend in a sacrifice of love
to him.
Many signs likewise of this love may be
multiplied, according to the many fruits and
workings of it : but in them all, itself is its
own most infallible evidence. When the
soul finds that all its obedience and endea-
vour to keep the commands of Jesus Christ,
which himself makes its character, do flow
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CIIAI- I.
from love, then it is true and sincere : For
do or suffer what you will, without love all
passes for nothing ; all are cyphers without
it, they signify nothing, 1 Cor. xiii.
This is the message of the Gospel, and
that which the ministry aims at, and there-
fore the ministers ought to be suitors, not
for themselves, but for Christ, to espouse
souls to him, and to bring in many hearts to
love him. And certainly this is the most
compendious way to persuade to all other
Christian duties, this is to converse with
Jesus Christ ; and therefore where his love
is, no other incentive will be needful : For
love delights in the presence and converse of
the party loved. If we are to persuade to
duties of the second table, the sum of those
is love to our brethren, resulting from the
love of Christ, which diffuseth such a sweet-
ness into the soul, that it is all love, and
meekness, and gentleness, and long suffer-
ing.
If times be for suffering, love will make
the soul not only bear, but welcome the bit-
terest afflictions of life, and the hardest kinds
of death for his sake. In a word, there is
in love a sweet constraint, or tying of the
heart to all obedience and duty.
The love of God is requisite in ministers,
for their preaching of the word ; so our Sa-
viour to St. Peter, John xxi. 15, Peter,
lovest thou me ? then feed my lambs. It
is requisite for the people that they receive
the truth in the love of it, and that Christ
preached may be entertained in the soul,
ana embraced by faith and love.
You that have made choice of Christ for
your love, let not your hearts slip out, to re-
new your wonted base familiarity with sin ;
for that will bring new bitterness to your
souls, and at least for sometimes will de-
prive you of the sensible favour of your be-
loved Jesus. Delight always in God, and
give him your whole heart ; for he deserves
it all, and is a satisfying good to it. The
largest heart is all of it too strait for the
riches of consolation that he brings with
him. Seek to increase in this love ; and
though it is at first weak, yet labour to find
it daily rise higher, and burn hotter and
clearer, and consume the dross of earthly
desires.
Receiving the end of your faith.} Al-
though the soul that believes and loves, is
put in present possession of God, as far as it
is capable in its sojourning here ; yet it de-
sires a full enjoyment, which it cannot at-
tain to, without removing hence. While
we are present in the body, we are absent
from the Lord, saith the apostle. And be-
cause they are assured of that happy ex-
change, that being united and freed of this
body, they shall be present with the Lord,
having his own word for it, that where he
is, there they shall be also • this begets
such an assured hope, as bears the name
of possession. Therefore it is said here,
receiving the end of your faith.
This receiving likewise flows from faith
Faith apprehends the present truth of the
divine promises, and so makes the tilings to
coma present ; and hope looks out to their
after accomplishment : Which if the pro.
mises be true, as faith avers, then hope hath
good reason firmly to expect. This desire
and hope are the very wheels of the soul that
carry it on, and faith the common axis on
which they rest.
In the words there are two things : 1.
The good hoped for, in Christ so believed on
and loved : 2. The assuredness of the hope
itself, yea, it is as sure as if it were already
accomplished.
I. As for the good hopea for, it consists,
1. In the nature of it, viz. the salvation of
their soul ; 2. In a relative, property of it,
the end of their faith.
1st, The nature of it is, salvation, and
salvation of the soul ; it imports full delive-
rance from all kinds of misery, and the safe
possession of perfect happiness, when the
soul shall be out of the reach of all adversa-
ries and adverse accidents, no more subject-
ed to those evils that are properly its own,
namely, the conscience of sin, and ferr of
wrath, and sad defections ; nor yet subject
to those other evils it endured, by society
with the body, outward distresses and afflic.
dons, persecutions, poverty, diseases, &c.
It is called salvation of the soul : Not
excluding the body from the society of that
glory, when it shall be raised and reunited
to the soul ; but because the soul is of itself
an immortal substance, and both the more
noble part of man, and the prime subject
both of grace and glory, and because it ar-
rives first at that blessedness, and for a time
leaves the body in the dust to do homage to
its original, therefore it is only named here.
But Jesus is the Saviour of the body too,
and he shall at his coming, change our vile
bodies, and make them like his glorious
body.
2dly, We have the relative property of
this hope, the end of your faith. The end
or reward ,• for it is both. It is the end,
either at which faith aims, or wherein it
ceaseth. It is the reward, not of their
works, nor of faith, as a work deserving it,
but as the condition of the new covenant,
which God, according to the tenor of that
covenant, first works in his own, and then
rewards as if it were their work. And this
salvation, or fruition of Christ, is the proper
reward of faith, which believes in him un-
seen, and so obtains that happy sight. It
is the proper work of faith to believe what
thou seest not, and the reward of faith to see
what thou hast believed.
II. This is the certainty of their hope,
vta. 8, H. |
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
that it is as if they had already received it.
If the promise of God and the merit of
Christ hold good, then they that believe in
him, and love him, are made sure of salva-
tion. The promises of God in Christ are
not yea and nay ; but they are in him yea,
and in him amen. Sooner may the rivers
run backward, and the course of the heavens
change, and the frame of nature be dissolv-
ed, than any one soul that is united to Jesus
Christ by faith and love can be severed from
him, and so fall short of salvation hoped
for in him ; and this the matter of their
rejoicing.
Yc rejoice with joy unspeakuble.] The
natural man, says the apostle, receiveth not
the thinys of God, for they are foolishness
unto him ; and he adds the reason why he
cannot know them, for they are spiritually
discerned. He hath none of that faculty by
which they are discerned. There is a vast
disproportion betwixt those things and na-
ture's highest capacity, it cannot work be-
yond its sphere. Speak to the natural man
of the matter of spiritual grief, the sense of
guiltiness, and the apprehension of God's
displeasure, or the hiding of his favour and
the light of his countenance from the soul ;
these things stir not in him, he knows not
what they mean. Speak to him again of
the peace of conscience, and sense of God's
love, and the joy that arises hence ; he is no
less a stranger to that. Mourn to him, and
he laments not ; pipe to him, and he dances
not, as our Saviour speaks, Matth. xi. 17-
But, as it there follows, there is a wisdom
in those things, though they seem folly and
nonsense to the foolish world, and this wis-
dom is justified of her own children, ver. 19.
Having said somewhat already of the
causes of this spiritual joy which the apostle
here speaks of, it remains that we consider
those two things : 1. How joy ariseth from
those causes : 2. The excellency of this joy,
as it is here expressed.
1. There is here a solid sufficient good,
and the heart made sure of it, being partly
put in present possession of it, and in a most
certain hope of all the rest. And what
more can be required to make it joyful ?
Jesus Christ, the treasure of all blessings,
received and united to the soul, by faith
and love, and hope.
Is not Christ the light and joy of the na-
tions ? such a light as Abraham, at the dis-
tance of many ages, of more than two thou-
sand years, yet saw by faith, and seeing
rejoiced. Besides this brightness, thai
makes light a joyful object, light is often in
scripture put for joy. Christ, this light
brings salvation with him, he is the Sun oj
righteousness, and there is healing undei
his icings. I bring yon, said the angel
good tidings of great joy, that shall be ti
nil people. And their song hath in it the
natter of that joy, Glory to God in the
highest, peace on earth, and good-will to-
ward men, Luke ii. 10 — 14.
But to the end we may rejoice in Christ,
we must find him ours, otherwise the more
excellent he is, the more cause hath the
icart to be sad, while it hath no portion in
lim : My spirit hath rejoiced, saith the
blessed Virgin, in God my Saviour, Luke
.47.
Thus, 1 John i. 4, having spoken of our
communion with Christ, the apostle adds,
These things I write, that your joy may
be full. Faith worketh this joy, by uniting
;he soul to Christ, and applying his merits ;
and from that application arises the pardon
of sin. And so that load of misery, which
was the great cause of sorrow, is remov-
ed ; and so soon as the soul finds itself
ightened and unloaded of that burden that
was sinking it to hell, it cannot choose but
leap for joy, in the ease and refreshment it
inds. Therefore that psalm that David be-
ins with the doctrine of the pardon of sin,
lie ends with an exhortation to rejoicing.
Blessed is the man whose transgression is
forgiven, lohose sin is covered, Psal. xxxii.
1. Thus he begins ; but he ends, ver. 11,
Be glad in the Lord, and rejoice ye righ-
teous, and shout for joy all ye that are up-
right in heart. St. Peter speaks to his
hearers of the remission of sins, Acts ii. 38,
and ver. 41, it is added, they received his
words gladly : And our Saviour joins these
two together, Be of good comfoiit, thy sins
are forgiven thee. Thus Isa. Ixi. 1, good
tidings of liberty to captives are proclaimed,
and a notable change there is of their estate
who mourn in Zion, giving them beauty for
ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and the
garment of praise for the spirit of heavi-
ness. Think with what joy the long im-
prisoned debtor, drowned in debt, receives a
full discharge, and his liberty ; or a con-
demned malefactor the news of his paidon,
and this will somewhat resemble it ; but yet
fall far short of the joy that faith brings, by
bringing Christ to the soul, and so for-
giveness of sin.3 in him.
But this is not all. This believing soul
is not only a debtor acquitted and set free,
but enriched besides with a new and great
estate ; not only a pardoned malefactor, but
withal highly preferred and advanced to ho-
nour, having a right by the promises to the
unsearchable riches of Christ, as the apos-
tle speaks, and is received into favour with
God, and into the dignity of sonship, taken
from the dunghill, and set with princes,
Psal. cxiii. 8.
As there is joy from faith, so also from
love. Though it is in itself the most sweet
and delightful passion of the soul, yet as we
foolishly misplace it, it proveth often fuU
of bitterness ; but being set upon Jesus
32
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CKAF. I.
Christ, the only right and worthy object, it
CMiseth this unspeakable delight and re-
joicing.
1st, It is matter of joy to have bestowed
•our love so worthily ; and though our Sa-
viour seems to withdraw himself, and some-
times sadden the soul that loves him with
absences, in regard of sense ; yet even in
those sad times, the soul delights to love
him, and there is a pleasure in the very pains
it hath in seeking after him. And this il
knows, that his mercies are everlasting, and
that he cannot be long unkind, but will re-
turn and speak comfortably unto it.
2(%, Our love to Christ gives us assu-
rance of his to us : so that we have not only
chosen worthily, but shall not be frustrate
and disappointed, and it assures us of his,
not as following, but preceding and causing
ours : For our love to Jesus Christ is no
other but the reflex of his on us. Wine
mafceth glad the heart : but thy love is
better than ivine, saith the spouse. And
having this persuasion, that he hath loved
us, and washed us in his blood, and forgets
us not in our conflicts, that though lie him-
self is in his glory, yet that he intercedes for
us there, and will bring us thither, what con-
dition can befal us so hard, but we may re-
joice in it ? and in them, so far as we are
sure to arrive at that full salvation and frui-
tion of him who hath purchased it ?
Then there is the third cause of our re-
joicing, viz. our hope. Now hope is our
anchor fixed within the veil, that stays us
against all the storms that beat upon us in
this troublesome sea that we are tossed upon.
The soul that strongly believes and loves,
may confidently hope to see what it believeth,
and enjoy what it loves, and in that rejoice.
It may say, Whatsoever hazards, whether
outward or inward, whatsoever afflictions and
temptations I endure, yet this one thing puts
me out of hazard, and in that I will rejoice,
the salvation of my soul depends not upon
my own strength, but is in my Saviour's
hand : My life is hid with Christ in God ;
and when he who is my life shall appear, I
likewise shall appear with him in glory.
The childish world is hunting shadows, and
gaping and hoping after they know not
what ; but the believer can say, I know whom
I have trusted, and am persuaded that he is
able to keep that which I have committed to
him against that day. Now we have not
only right to those things, but withal there
must be frequent consideration of them to
work joy. The soul must often view them,
and so rejoice : My meditation of him shall
be sweet, saith David, / will be glad in the
Lord, Psal. civ. 34. And the godly failing
in this, deprive themselves much of that joy
they might have ; and they that are most
<u these sublime thoughts, have the highest
and truest joy.
2. The excellency of this joy the apostle
here expresseth by these two words, unspeak-
able and full of g lory.
That it is unspeakable, no wonder, seeing
the matter of it is inconceivable, it is an in-
finite good. God reconciled in Jesus Christ,
and testifying and sealing his love unto the
soul, and giving assured hope of that blessed
vision of eternity, what more unspeakable
than this ? And for the same reason it is
glorious, or glorified joy, having the highest
and most glorious object ; for it derives all
its excellency from thence.
Unspeakable.] The best worldly joys are
easily speakable ; they may be expressed to
the utmost, yea usually more is spoken of
them than they are indeed. Their name is
beyond their worth ; they are very seldom
found upon experience equal to the opinion
and expectation that men have of them. But
this spiritual joy is above the report any can
make of it, say what they can of it who
are of happiest expression ; yet when a man
comes to know it in his own breast, he
will say, a 5 that Queen said of Solomon's
wisdom, the half was not told me of it.
Again, earthly joys are inglorious ; many
of which men are ashamed of, and those
that seem most plausible, yet are below the
excellency of the soul, and cannot fill it :
But the joys that arise from union with
Christ, as they are most avowable, a man
needs not blush to own them, so they
are truly contenting and satisfying, and
that is their glory, and the cause why we
may glory in them : My soul shall make her
boast in God, says David, Psal. xxxiv. 2.
For application of all this. If these
things were believed, we should hearken
no more to the foolish prejudice that the
world hath taken up against religion, and
wherewith Satan endeavours to possess men's
hearts, that they may be scared from the
ways of holiness : They think it a sour
melancholy life, that hath nothing but sad-
ness and mourning in it. But to remove
this prejudice,
Consider, 1. Religion bars not the law-
ful delights that are taken in natural things,
but teaches the moderate and regular use
of them, which is far the sweeter ; for
things lawful in themselves are in their
excess sinful, and so prove bitterness in
the end ; and if in some cases it requires
the forsaking of lawful enjoyments, as of
pleasure, or profits, or honour, for God and
for his glory, it is generous, and more truly
delightful to deny them for this reason, than
to enjoy them. Men have done much this
way for the love of their country, and by a
principle of moral virtue ; but to lose any
Might, or to suffer any hardship for that
highest end, the glory of God, and by the
strength of love to him, is far more excellent
;nd truly pleasant.
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEK
33
2. The delights and pleasures of sin, re-
ligion indeed banishes, but it is to change
them for this joy that is unspeakably be-
yond them : it calls men from sordid and
base delights to those that are pure delights
indeed ; it calls to men, Drink ye no longer
of the puddle, here are the crystal streams of
a living fountain. There is a delight in the
very despising impure delights ; as he said,
How pleasant is it to want these pleasures 9 *
But for such a change, to have in their stead
such delights, as in comparison the other
deserve not that name ; to have such spiri-
tual joy as shall end in eternal joy, it is a
wonder we hasten not all to choose this joy,
but it is indeed because we believe it not.
3. It is true, the godly are subject to great
distresses and afflictions ; but their joy is
not extinguished by those, no, nor diminish-
ed neither, but often sensibly increased.
When they have least of the world's joy,
they abound most in spiritual consolations,
and then relish them best. They find them
sweetest when their taste is not depraved
with earthly enjoyments : We rejoice in tri-
bulation, says St. Paul ; and here our apos-
tle insists on that, to verify the substance of
this joy in the midst of the greatest afflictions.
4. Spiritual grief, that seems most oppo-
site to this spiritual joy, excludeth it not ;
for there is a secret delight and sweetness in
the tears of repentance, a balm in them that
refreshes the soul, and even their saddest
kind of mourning, viz. the dark times of
disjr on, hath this in it, that is some way
sweet, that those mournings after their Be-
loved, who absents himself, are a mark of
their love to him, and a true evidence of it ;
and then all those spiritual sorrows, of what
nature soever, are turned into spiritual joy ;
that is the proper end of them ; they have a
natural tendency that way.
5. But the natural man still doubts of
this joy we speak of; because he sees and
hears so little of it from them that profess to
have it, and seem to have best right to it.
If we consider the wretchedness of this life,
and especially the abundance of sin that is in
the world, what wonder though this their
joy retire much inward, and appear little
abroad, where all things are so contrary to it,
and so few are capable of it, to whom it were
pertinent to vent it. Again, we see here, it
is unspeakable ; it were a poor thing if he
that hath it could not tell it all out.-f- And
when the soul hath most of it, then it remains
most within itself, and is so inwardly taken up
with it, that possibly it can then least of al
express it. It is with joys as they say 01
cares and griefs, Leves loquuntur ingentes
flu pent. The deepest water runs stillest.
True joy is a solid grave thing,:}: dwells
* Quam suave cst istis suavitatibus carerc ? AUG.
t I'auperis est numerare perns.
i lies severa cit vcrum gaii'lium. SEN-.
r.ore in the heart than in the countenance ;
whereas, on the contrary, base and false joys
are but superficial, skin-deep, as we say ;
they are all in the face.
Think not that it is with the godly, as the
Prophet says of the wicked, that there is no
peace to them ; and the Septuagint reads it,
no joy. Certainly it is true ; there is DO
true joy to the wicked : They may revel and
make a noise, but they rejoice not ; the
laughter of the fool is as the crackling of
thorns under the pot, a great noise but lit-
tle heat, and soon at an end. There is no
continuing feast, but that of a good con-
science. Wickedness and real joy cannot
dwell together, as the very moralist Seneca
hath it often, and at large : But he that
can say, the righteousness of Jesus Christ is
mine, and in him the favour of God, and the
hope of eternal happiness, hath such a light
as can shine in the darkest dungeon, yea in
the dark valley of the shadow of death it-
self.
Say not thou, if I betake myself to the
way of godliness, I must bid farewell to
gladness, never a merry day more ; no, en
the contrary, never a truly joyful day till then,
yea, no days at all, but night to the soul, till
it entertain Jesus Christ, and his kingdom,
which consists in those, righteousness, peace,
and joy in the Holy Ghost. Thou dost not
sacrifice Isaac, which signifies laughter, (as
St. Bern.) but a ram ; not thy joy, but filthy
sinful delights that end in sorrow.
Oh ! seek to know in your experience what
those joys mean, for all describing and com-
mending them to you will not make yoru un-
derstand them, but taste, and see that the
Lord is good : You cannot see and know
this goodness, but by tasting it ;* and having
tasted it, all those poor joys you thought
sweet before, will then be bitter and distaste-
ful to you.
And you that have Christ yours by Ije-
lieving, know your happiness, and rejoice,
and glory in it. Whatsoever is your out-
ward condition, rejoice always, and again I
say, rejoice, Philip, iv. 4, for light is sown
to the righteous, and gladness for the up-
right in heart, Psal. xcvii. 11.
VER. 10. Of which salvation the prophets have en-
quired and searched diligently, who prophesied of
the grace that should come unto you :
VKP.. 11. Searching what, or what manner of time,
the Spirit of Christ which was in them did signi-
fy, when it testified beforehand the sufferings of
rhrist, and the glory that should follow.
VER. 12. . Unto whom it was revealed, that not un-
to themselves, but unto us, they did minister the
things which are now reported unto you by them
that have preached the gospel unto you will" the
Holy Ghost sent down from heaven ; which things
the angels desire tu look into.
IT is the ignorance, or at least the incon-
sideration of divine things, that makes earth -
* Lauda mellis dulcedlnem quantum poles, <ju: non
:;ustaverit, 'ion intelli-ct. Auo.
C
A COMMENTARY UPON
M
ly things, whether good or evil, appear great
in cur eyes : therefore the apostle's great aim
is, by representing the certainty and excel-
lency of the belief and hope of Christians to
his afflicted brethren, to strengthen their
minds against all discouragements and oppo-
sitions ; that they may account nothing too
hard to do or suffer, for so high a cause, and
so happy an end. It is the low and mean
thoughts, and the shallow persuasion we have
of things that are spiritual, that is the cause
of all our remissness and coldness in them.
The doctrine of salvation, mentioned in the
former verse, as the end of our Christian
faith, is illustrated in these words, from its
antiquity, dignity, and infallible truth.
It is no modern invention ; for the pro-
phets enquired after it, and foretold it in
former ages from the beginning. Thus the
prejudice of novelty is removed, that usually
meets the most ancient truth in its new dis-
coveries.
Again, it is no mean thing that such men
as were of unquestioned eminency in wisdom
and holiness did so much study and search
after ; and having found it out, were careful
not only to publish it in their own times, but
to record it to posterity ; and this not by the
private motion of their own spirits, but by
trie acting and guidance of the Spirit of God,
which likewise sets the truth of their testi-
mony above all doubtfulness and uncertainty.
But taking those three verses entirely to-
gether, we have in them these three things,
testifying how excellent the doctrine of the
gospel is : 1. We have the principal author
of it ; 2. The matter of it ; 3. The worth
of those that are exercised about it, viz. the
best of men, the prophets and apostles, in ad-
ministering it, and the best of all the crea-
tures, the angels, in admiring it.
I. The first author is the absolutely first,
the Spirit of God in the prophets, ver. 11,
in the apostles, ver. 12. But ver. 11, the
Spirit of Christ there, is the same Spirit that
he sent down on his disciples after his as-
cending to glory, and which spoke in his
prophets before his descending to the earth.
It is the Spirit of Christ, proceeding jointly
from him with the Father, as he is the Son
of God, and dwelling most richly and fully
in him as the Son of man.
The Holy Ghost is in himself holiness,
and the source and worker of holiness, am
author of this holy doctrine that breathes
nothing but holiness, and urges it most press
[CHAP. i.
shines st mon, but by the report of others;
>ut they fiat see, are assured they see it,
and assured by no other thing, but by its
own light. To ask one that is a true be.
iever, How know you the scriptures to be
divine ? is the same as to ask him, How know
you light to be light ?
The soul is nothing but darkness and
Blindness within, till that same Spirit that
shines without in the word, shine likewise
within it, and effectually make it light ; but
that once done, then is the word read with
some measure, of the same spirit by which it
was written, and the soul is ascertained that
it is divine, as in bodily sight there must
be a meeting of inward light, viz. the visual
ipirits with the outward object.
The Spirit of God within, brings evidence
with it, and makes itself discernible in the
ingly upon all that receive it.
This is the very life of divine
faith
touching the mysteries of salvation, firmly
to believe their revelation by the Spirit o
Ood. This the word itself testifies, as w<
see, and it is really manifest in it ; it carries
the lively stamp of divine inspiration, bui
tnere must be a spiritual eye to discern it,
He that is bhnd knows not that the sur
all books and
It is given to
word ; this all arguments,
study, cannot attain unto.
believe, Phil. i. 29.
No man knows the things of a man, but
the spirit of man, 1 Cor. ii. 11. But how
holds that here ? For if a man speak out
the things that are in his spirit, then others
may know them ; but the apostle's aim there
is, to conclude that the things of God, even
such as were revealed in his word, could not be
known but by his own Spirit ; so that though
revealed, yet they remain still unrevealed,
till the Spirit teach within, as well as with-
out ; because they are intelligible by none,
but by those that are the private scholars
and hearers of the Holy Ghost, the author
of them ; and because there are so few of
these, therefore there is so little real be-
lieving amongst all the noise and profession
that we make of it. Who is there (if you
will believe them) that believes not ? And
yet truly here is too much cause to continue
the Prophet's regret, Who hath believed our
report? Isa. liii. 1.
Learn then to suspect yourselves, and to
find out your own unbelief, that you may
desire this Spirit to teach you inwardly those
great mysteries that he outwardly reveals,
and teaches by his word. Make use of
that promise, and press the Lord with it,
They shall be all taught of God, Isa. liv.
13, and John vi. 45.
But, II. There is here the matter of this
doctrine, which we have in three several ex-
pressions: 1. That which is repeated from
the foregoing verse, it is the doctrine of sal-
vation that is the end of it ; 2. The doc-
trine of the sufferings and glory of Christ,
as the means ; and 3. The doctrine of grace,
the spring of both.
1. It is the doctrine of salvation, {he only
true doctrine of true happiness, which the
wisest of natural men have groped and
sought after with much earnestness, but
with no success : They had no other than
the dark moon-light of nature, and that is
VER. 10—12.}
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
not sufficient to find it cut ; only the Sun
of Righteousness, shining in the sphere of
the gospel, brings life and immortality to
light, 2 Tini. i. 10. No wonder that na-
tural wisdom, the deepest of it, is far from
finding out the true method and way of cure,
seeing it cannot discover the disease of mi-
serable mankind, viz. the sinful and wretch-
ed condition of nature by the first dis-
obedience.
Salvation expresses not only that which
is negative, but implies likewise positive and
perfect happiness : This forgiveness of sins
is put for the whole nature of justification
frequently in scripture. It is more easy to
say of this unspeakable happiness what it
is not, than what it is. There is in it a full
and final freedom from all annoyance ; all
tears are wiped away, and their fountain is ;
dried up ; all feeling and fear, or danger of
any the least evil, either of sin or punish-
ment, is banished for ever ; there are no in-
vasions of enemies, no robbing or destroying
in all this holy mountain, no voice of com-
plaining in the streets of the New Jerusa-
lem. Here it is at the best but interchanges
cf mornings of joy, with sad evenings of
weeping : But there, there shall be no light,
no need of sun nor moon, for the glory of
ihe Lord shall lighten it, and the Lamb
•shall be the light thereof, Rev. xxi. 23.
V/ell may the apostle, as he doth here
throughout this chapter, lay this salvation to
counterbalance all sorrows and persecutions,
and whatsoever hardships can be in the way
to it. The soul that is persuaded of this,
in the midst of storms and tempests, enjoys
a calm, triumphs in disgraces, grows richer
by all its losses, and, by death itself, attains
this immortal life.
Happy are they that have their eyes fixed
upon this salvation, and are longing and
waiting for it, that see so much of that
brightness and glory, as darkens all the
lustre of all earthly things to them, and
makes them trample upon those things which
formerly they admired and doated on with
the rest of the foolish world. Those things
we account so much of, are but as rotten
wood or glow-worms, that shine only in the
night of our ignorance and vanity : So soon
as the light beam of this salvation enters
into the soul, it cannot much esteem or af-
fect any thing below it ; and if those glances
of it that shine in the word, and in the soul
of a Christian, be so bright and powerful,
what then shall the full sight and real pos-
^ssion of it be ?
The gospel is represented as the doctrine
of the sufferings and glory of Christ, as
the means of salvation. The worker of
tliis salvation, whom the prophets and
apostles make the sum of all their doctrine,
is Jesus Christ, and the sum of that work of
redemption, as we have it here, is his hu-
miliation and exaltation ; his sufferings, and
the glory that followed thereupon. Now,
though this serve as an encouragement to
Christians in their sufferings, that this is
the way by which their Lord went into his
glory, and is true also of Chrisi mystical,
the head with the members, as the scrip,
tures often teach us ; yet I conceive it is
here mainly intended as a summary of the
work of our redemption by Jesus Christ,
relating to the salvation mentioned, ver. 10,
and as the cause for the effect, so is it put
for it here. The prophets enquired, and
prophesied of that salvation. How ? By
searching out and foretelling the sufferings
and glory of Christ : His suffering then,
and* his after glories, are our salvation. His
suffering is the purchase of our salvation,
and his glory is our assurance of it ; he as our
Head having triumphed, and being crown-
ed, makes us likewise sure of victory, and
triumph. His having entered on the pos-
session of glory, makes our hope certain ;
this is his prayer, That where he is, there
we may be also, and this his own assertion,
the glory which Ihou gavest me, I have
given them, John xvii. 22, 24 ; this is his
promise, Because I Jive, ye shall live also,
John xiv. 19. Christ and the believer are
one : this is that great mystery the apostle
speaks of, Eph. v. 30, 32. Though it is a
common known truth, the words and out-
side of it obvious to all, yet none can un.
derstand it but they that indeed partake of
it. By virtue of that union, their sins were
accounted his, and Christ's sufferings are
accounted theirs, and by consequence, his
glory, the consequent of his sufferings^ is
likewise theirs : There is an indissoluble
connexion betwixt the life of Christ, and of
a believer ; our life is hid with Christ in
God ,• and therefore, while we remain there,
our life is there, though hid, and when he
who is our life shall appear, we likewise
shall appear with him in glory, Col. iii^>
3, 4. Seeing the sufferings and glory of
our Redeemer are the main subject of the
gospel, and the causes of our salvation and
our comfortable persuasion of it, it is a
wonder that they are not more the matter of
our thoughts. Should we not daily consider
the bitterness of that cup of wrath he drunk
for us, and be wrought to repentance and
hatred of sin, to have sin embittered to us
by that consideration, and find the sweetness
of his love in that he did drink it, and by
that, be deeply possessed with love to him ?
These things we now and then speak of,
but they sink not into our minds, as our.
Saviour exhorts, where he is speaking of
those same sufferings. Oh ! that they were
engraven on our hearts, • and that sin were
crucified in us, and the world crucified to
us, and we unto the icorld by the cro.tf of
Chrift, Gal. vi. 14.
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. i.
And let us be frequently considering the
glory wherein he is, and have our eye often
upon that, and pur hearts solacing and re-
freshing themselves frequently with thoughts
of that place and condition wherein Christ
is, and where our hopes are ere long to be-
hold him ; both to see his glory, and to be
glorified with him. Is it not reason, yea it
is necessary ; it cannot be otherwise, if our
treasure and head be there, that our hearts
be there likewise, Mat. vi. 21 ; Col. Hi. 1, 2.
The third expression here of the gospel
is, That it is the doctrine of grace. The
work of redemption itself, and the several
parts of it, and the doctrine revealing it, have
all the name of grace, because they all flow
from free grace ; that is their spring -and
first cause.
And it is this wherein the doctrine of
salvation is mainly comfortable, that it is
free, Ye are saved by grace, Eph. ii. 8.
It is true God requires faith, it is through
faith ; but he that requires that gives it too :
That is not of yourselves, it is the gift of
God, Eph. ii. 8. It is wonderful grace to
save upon believing ; believe in Jesus for
salvation, and live accordingly, and it is
done ; there is no more required to thy par-
don, but that thou receive it by faith. But
truly nature cannot do this ; it is as impos-
sible for us of ourselves to believe, as to do.
This then is that which makes it all grace
from beginning to end, that God not only
saves upon believing, but gives believing
itself. Christ is called not only the author
and finisher of our salvation, but even of
our faith, Ileb. xii. 2.
Free grace being rightly apprehended, is
that which stays the heart in all estates, and
keeps it from fainting, even in its saddest
times : What though there is nothing in
myself, but matter of sorrow and discomfort !
It cannot be otherwise. It is not from my-
self that I look for comfort at any time, but
from my God and his free grace. Here is
comfort enough for all times ; when I am at
the best I ought not, I dare not rely upon
myself; when I am at the worst, I may, and
should rely upon Christ, and his sufficient
grace. Though I be the vilest sinner that
ever came to him, yet I know he is more gra-
cious than I am sinful ; yea the more my sin
is, the more glory will it be to his grace to
pardon it ; it will appear the richer : Doth
not David argue thus, Psal. xxv. 11, For
thy name's sake, O Lord, pardon mine
Iniquity, for it is great : But it is an empty
fruitless notion of grace, to consider it only
in the general, and in a wandering way.
We are to look upon it particularly, as ad-
dressed to us, and it is not enough that it
comes to us, in the message of him that
brings it only to our ear, but that we may
know what it is, it must come into us, then
«t is ours indeed ; but if it come to us in the
message only, and we send it away again, if
it shall so depart, we had better never have
heard of it ; it will leave a guiltiness behind
it, that shall make all our sins weigh much
heavier than before.
Inquire whether you have entertained this
grace or not, whether it be come to you, and
into you, or not ; whether the kingdom of
God is within you, as our Saviour speaks,
Luke xvii. 21. It is the most woeful con-
dition that can be, not to be far from the
kingdom of God, and yet to fall short, and
miss of it. The grace of God revealed in
the gospel, is intreating you daily to receive
it, is willing to become yours, if you reject
it not. Were your eyes open to behold the
beauty and excellency of this grace, there
would need no deliberation ; yea, you would
endure none : Desire your eyes to be open-
ed, and enlightened from above, that you
may know it, and your hearts opened, that
you may be happy by receiving it.
The apostle, speaking of Jesus Christ, as
the foundation of our faith, calls him the
same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever,
Heb. xiii. 8. Yesterday, under the law, to-
day, in those primitive times, nearest his in-
carnation, and for ever, in all succeeding
ages. And the resemblance holds good be-
tween the two cherubims over the mercy-seat,
and the two Testaments ; those had their
faces one toward another, and both toward the
mercy -seat ; and these look to one another
in their doctrine, agreeing perfectly ; and
both look to Christ, the true mercy-seat, and
the great subject of the scriptures. This we
see here, the things that the prophets fore-
told to come, and the apostles reported were
accomplished, were the same, and from the
same Spirit ; they were the sufferings of
Christ, and his after glory, and in them our
salvation by free grace. The prophecies
look forward to the times of the gospel ; and
the things then fulfilled, look back to the
prophecies ; and each confirms the other,
meeting all in Christ, who is their truth and
centre.
We have spoken already of the author,
and subject of this salvation. Now we come
to say something, III. Concerning the worth
of those who are employed about it, as well
in administering to it, as in admiring it.
And those are, the prophets and apostles ;
the first foretold what was to come, the
second preached them when they came to
pass.
In the prophets there are three things ] tere
remarked: 1. Their diligence; 2. The
success of it ; 3. The extent of its useful-
ness.
1. This their diligence disparages not
their extraordinary visions and revelat'ons,
and that which added, that the Spirit of
Christ was in them, and did foretell the things
to coin
VEH. 10—12.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
It was their constant duty, and they be-
ing sensible of their duty, made it their con-
stant exercise, to search into divine mysteries,
by meditation and prayer ; yea, and by read-
ing such holy writers as were already extant
in their times, as Dan. ix. 3 ; x. 11. For
which cause, some taking the word actively,
conceive Daniel to be called there a man of
desires, because of his great desire, and dili-
gent search after the knowledge of those
high things. And in this diligent way,
they constantly waited for these revelations,
which sometimes, when it seemed good unto
the Spirit of God, were imparted unto them.
" Prophecy resideth not (say the Hebrew
doctors) but in a man that is great in wisdom
and virtue, whose affections overcome him
not in any worldly things ; but by his know-
ledge he overcovneth his affections continual-
ly ; on such a man the Holy Spirit cometh
down, and his soul is associated to the angels,
and he is changed to another man." Thus
Maimonides.
It was the way of the prince of darkness
amongst the idolatrous Gentilas, to speak
either through senseless statues, or where he
uttered his oracles, by such profane prophets
as he had, to cause them in a fury to tumble
forth words which they understood not, and
knew not what they said. But the Spirit of
God being light, and the holy prophets in-
spired with it, they being diligent attendants
on its motions, and searchers of the mysteries
of salvation, understood well what their busi-
ness was, and to what purpose those things
of the kingdom of Christ tended, which they
by inspiration did foretell ; and therefore
bended their thoughts this way, praying,
searching, and waiting for answers, studying
to keep trie passage, as it were, open for the
beams of those divine revelations to come in
at ; not to have their spirits clogged and
stopped with earthly and sinful affections,
endeavouring for that calm and quiet com-
posure of spirit, in which the voice of God's
Spirit might be the better heard. Thus
Psal. Ixxxv. 8, and Hab. ii. 1. In both
which places follow an excellent prophecy
concerning Christ, and that salvation which
he wrought for his people.
Were the prophets not exempted from the
pains of search and inquiry, that had the
Spirit of God, not only in a high measure,
but after a singular manner ! How unseem-
ing then is slothfulness and idleness in us !
Whether is it, that we judge ourselves ad-
vantaged with more of the Spirit than those
holy men ? or that we esteem the doctrine
and mysteries of salvation, on which they
bestowed so much of their labour, unworthy
of ours ? These are both so gross, that we
will be loth to own either of them : and yet
our laziness and negligence in searching after
those things, seems to charge us with some
such thought as one of those.
You will say, this concerns those that
succeed to the work of the prophets and apos-
tles in ordinary, the ministers of the gospel.
And it doth indeed fall first upon them. It
s their task indeed to be diligent, and as
the apostle exhorts his Timothy, to attend
on reading, 1 Tim. iv. 13, but above all to
study to have much experimental knowledge
of God, and his son Jesus Christ ; and for
this end to disentangle and free themselves
as much as is possible from lower things to
the search of heavenly mysteries, Pro*, xviii.
1. As they are called angels, so ought they
to be, as much as they can attain to it, in
a constant nearness unto God, and attend-
ance on him, like unto the angels, and look
much into these things, as the angels here
are said to do ; to endeavour to have their
souls purified from the affections of sin, that
the light of divine truth may shine clear in
them, and not be fogged and misted with
filthy vapours ; to have the impressions of
God clearly written on their breasts, not
mixed and blurred with earthly characters,
seasoning all their readings and common way
of studies with much prayer and divine me-
ditation. They that converse most with the
King, and are inward with him, know most
of the affairs of state, and even the sscrets of
them, that are hid from others : And cer-
tainly those of God's messengers that are
oftenest with himself, cannot but understand
their business best, and know most of his
meaning, and the affairs of his kingdom.
And to that end it is confessed, that singular
diligence is required in them ; but seeing the
Lord hath said without exception, that Kis
secret is with them that fear him, Psal.
xxv. 14, and that he will reveal himself and
his saving truths to those that humbly seek
them ; do not any of you yourselves so much
injury, as to bar yourselves from sharing in
your measure of the search of these same
things, that were the study of the prophets,
and which by their study and publishing
them, are made the more accessible and easy
to us. Consider that they do concern us uni-
versally, if we would be saved ; for it is sal-
vation here that they studied. Search the
Scriptures, says our Saviour, and that is the
motive, if there can be any that may be thought
in reason pressing enough, or if we do indeed
think so, for in them ye think to have eter-
nal life ; and it is there to be found. Christ
is thissa/ra/io/2, and that eternal life ; and he
adds further, it is they (those scriptures) that
testify of me, John v. 39. These are the
golden mines in which alone the bidding
treasures of eternity are to be found, and
therefore worthy all the digging and pains
we can bestow on them.
Besides their industry, in this inquiry and
search, there is here expressed their ardent
affection to the thing they prophesied of, and
their longings and wishes for its accomplish-
38
ment, viz. the coining of Jesus Christ, the
promised Messiah, the top of all their desires,
the great hope and the light of Israel. No
wonder they desired his day, that had so
much joy in the seeing it so far off, as over
the head almost of two thousand years.
Faith overlooking them, and foreseeing it so
in Abraham, his heart danced for joy, John
viii. 3C, Abraham saw my day and rejoiced.
And this is conceived to be the meaning
of those expressions in that mystical song,
as they suit those times of the Jewish church,
breathing out her longings for the coming of
her Beloved. His speaking by the prophets,
was his voice as afar off; but his incarnation
was his coming near, and kissing his church
with the kisses of his mouth, as Cant. chap.
i. ver. 1 ; and to omit other expressions
throughout the Song, the last chapter, ver.
1, is tender and pathetical, Oh ! that thou
icert as my brother, &c. and the last words
of it, Make haste, my Beloved, and be thou
like a roe, or a young hart, upon the moun-
tains of spices. And when this salvation
came in the fulness of time, we see how joy-
fully good old Simeon embraces it, and
thought he had seen enough, and therefore
upon the sight desired to have his eyes clos-
ed. Now let thy servant depart in peace,
for my eyes have seen thy salvation, Luke
ii. 20, 30. Therefore our Saviour says to
his apostles, Matt. xiii. 1C, Blessed are your
eyes, for they see, for many prophets and
righteous men have desired to see those
things which ye see, and have not seen them.
This is he whom \ve disesteem and make
so small account of, being now so clearly re-
vealed, that they studied, and sought, and
wished so much for, so many ages before.
Zdly, The success of their search is re-
marked : In seeking they found the certainty,
and the time cf his coming ; they sought out
till they found, and then they prophesied of
that salvation, and grace ; they searched
what, and what manner of lime, and the
Spirit did manifestly foretell it them.
They sought to know what manner of
time it should come to pass, viz. in a time
of great distress, and bad estate of the peo-
pie, as all the prophets testify, and particu-
larly that place, Gen. xlix. 10, gives an ex-
press character of the time ; though there be
some diversity of exposition of the particu-
lar words, yet the main sense is agreed on
by all sound interpreters, and the Chaldce
Paraphrase hath it expressly, that that
Shiloh is the Messiah.
And of his sufferings and after-glories
they prophesied very clearly, as Psal. xxi.
Isa, liii. &c. And our Saviour himself
makes use of their testimony in both these
points, Luke xxiv. 25, 26, 27.
3<%, There is the benefit of their search
and finding, in the extent of it, in verse 13
to the believers in the apostles' times, and
A COMMENTARY UPON
ICHAP. T.
to the succeeding Christian church, and so
to us in these days : but in some peculiar
sense the prophets ministered to the people
of those times, wherein Christ did suffer, and
enter into glory : for that were the first that
enjoyed the accomplishment of those prophe-
sies, they being fulfilled in their own days.
The prophets knew well that the things
they prophesied, were not to be fulfilled in
their own times, and therefore in their pro-
phesying concerning them, though both them-
selves, and people of God that were contem-
porary with them, did reap the comfort of
that doctrine, and were by faith partakers of
the same salvation, and so it was to them-
selves as well as of us, yet in regard of the
accomplishment, they knew it was not to
themselves, it was not to be brought to
pass in their days ; and therefore, speak-
ing of the glory of Christ's kingdom, they
often foretell it for the latter days, as their
phrase is. And as we have the things
they prophesied of, so we have this pecu-
liar benefit of their prophecies, that their
suiting so perfectly with the event and per-
formance, serves much to confirm our Chris-
tian faith.
There is a foolish and miserable way of
verifying this ; men ministering the doc-
trine of salvation to others and not to them-
selves, carrying it all in their heads, and
tongues, and none of it in their hearts ; not
hearing it even while they preach it ; reach-
ing the bread of life to others, and eating
none of it themselves. And this the apos-
tle says, that he was most careful to avoid,
and therefore dealt severely with his body,
that it might not this way endanger his
soul : / beat down my body, says he, and
keep it in subjection, lest when I have
preached to others, I myself should be a
cast-away, \ Cor. ix. 27. It is not in this
sense, that the prophets ministered to others,
and not to themselves. No, they had joy
and comfort in the very hopes of the Re-
deemer to come, and the belief of the things
that any others had spoke, and that them-
selves spoke concerning him. And thus the
true preachers of the gospel, though their
ministerial gifts are for the use of others, yet
that salvation they preach, they lay hold on,
and partake of themselves, as your boxes
wherein perfumes are kept for garments, and
other uses, are themselves perfumed by keep-
ing them.
We see how the prophets ministered it,
.is the never-failing consolation of the church
in those days, in all their distresses ; it is a
wonder, when they are foretelling either
the sorrows and afflictions, or temporal re-
storement and deliverances, of that people of
the Jews, what sudden outleaps they will
make to speak of the kingdom of Jesus
Christ, and the days of the gospel, insomuch
that he who considers n^t the Spirit they
TER. 10—12.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
were moved by, would think it were incohe-
rence, and impertinency ; but they knew well
what they meant, that those news were never
unseasonable, nor beside the purpose ; that
trie sweetness of those thoughts, viz. the con-
sideration of the Messiah, was able, to such
as believed, to allay the bitterest distresses,
and that the great deliverance he was to
work, was the top and sum of all deliverances.
Thus their prophecies of him were present
comfort to themselves, and other believers
then ; and further, were to serve for a clear
evidence of the divine truth of those myste-
ries in the days of the gospel, in and after
their fulfilling.
This sweet stream of their doctrine did,
as the rivers, make its own banks fertile and
pleasant, as it ran by, and flowed still for-
ward to after ages, and by the confluence of
more such prophecies, grew greater as it]
went, till it fell in with the main current of
the gospel in the New Testament, both act- j
ed and preached by the great Prophet him-
self, whom they foretold to come, and re-
corded by his apostles and evangelists, and
thus united into one river, clear as crystal.
This doctrine of salvation in the scriptures,
hath still refreshed the city of God, his
church under the gospel, and still shall do
so, till it empty itself into the ocean of eter-
nity.
The first discovery we have of this stream
nearest its source, the eternal purpose of di-
vine mercy, is in that promise which the Lord
himself preached in few words to our first
parents, that had newly made themselves
and their race miserable, The seed of the
woman shall break the head of the serpent,
Gen. iii. 15.
The agreement of their predictions with
the things themselves, and the preaching of
the apostles following the other kind of men
employed in this salvation, make up one
organ, or great instrument, tuned by the
same hand, and sounding by the same breath,
of the Spirit of God, and that is expressed
here, as the common authority of the doc-
trine in both, and the cause of their har-
mony and agreement in it.
All these extraordinary gifts of the Holy
Ghost, the calling of prophets and apostle f
and evangelists, and the ordinary ministers
of the gospel by pastors and teachers,, tend
to that great design that God hath in build-
ing his church, making up tha great assem-
bly of all the elect, to enjoy and praise him
for all eternity, Eph. iv. 11. For this end
sent he his Son out of his bosom, and for
this end sends he forth his messengers to
divulge that salvation that his Son hath '
wrought, and sends down his Spirit upon
them, that they may be fitted for so high a
service.. Those cherubims wonder how guilty
man escapes their flaming swords, and re-
enters paradise. The angels see that their;
companions that fell are not restored, but
their room filled up with the spirits of just
men, and they envy it not ; which mystery
the angels desire to look into ; and this is
added in the close of these words for the ex-
tolling of it.
The angels look upon what they have
seen already fulfilled with delight and ad-
miration, and what remains, namely, the full
accomplishment of this great work in the
end of time, they look upon, with desire to
see it finished ; it is not a slight glance
they take of it, but they fix their eye, and
look stedfastly on it, viz. that mystery of
godliness, God manifested in the flesh ;
and it is added, seen of angels, 1 Tim. iii.
16.
The Word made flesh, draws the eyes of
those glorious spirits, and possesses them
with wonder, to see the almighty Godhead
joined with the weakness of a man, yea, of
an infant. He that stretcheth forth the
heavens, bound up in swaddling clothes !
And to pass all the wonders of his life, this
is beyond all admiration, that the Lord of
Life was subject to death, and that his love
to rebellious mankind moved him both to
take on, and lay down that life.
It is no wonder the angels admire those
things, and delight to look upon them ;
but it is strange that we do not so. They
view them stedfastly, and we neglect them ;
either we consider them not at all, or give
them but a transient look, half an eye. That
which was the great business of the prophets
and apostles, both for their own times, and
to convey them to us, we regard not ; a/id
turn our eyes to foolish wandering thoughts,,
which angels are ashamed at. They are not
so concerned in this great mystery a? we are ;
they are but mere beholders in comparison
of us, yea, they seem rather to be losers some
way, that our nature, in itself inferior to
theirs, is in Jesus Christ exalted above theirs,
Heb. ii. 16. We bow down to the earth, and
study and grovel in it, rake into the very-
bowels of it, and content ourselves with the
outside of the unsearchable riches of Christ,
and look not within it ; but they having no
will nor desire, but for the glory of God,
being pure flames of fire, burning only in
love to him, are no less delighted than amaz-
ed with the bottomless wonders of his wis-
dom and goodness shining in the work of
our redemption.
It is our shame and our folly that we lose
ourselves and our thoughts in poor childish
things, and trifle away our days we know not
how, and let these rich mysteries lie unre-
garded. They look up on the Deity in it-
self with continual admiration ; but then they
look down to this mystery as another wonder.
We give them an ear in public, and in a
cold formal way stop conscience's mouth,
with some religious performances in privata.
40
and no more : But to have deep and frequent
thoughts, and to be ravished in the medita-
tion of our Lord Jesus, once on the cross and
now in glory, how few of us are acquainted
with this !
We see here excellent company and ex-
amples, not only of the best of men that have
been, but we have them fellow-servants and
fellow-students ; if that can persuade us, we
may all study the same lesson with the very
angels, and have the same thoughts with
them. This the soul doth that often enter-
tains itself with the delightful admiration of
Jesus Christ, and the redemption he hath
wrought for us.
VEB. 13. Wherefore gird up the loins of your mind,
be sober, and hope to the end, for the grace that
is to be brought unto you at the revelation of
Jr.- us Christ.
THE great error of man's mind, and the
cause of all his errors of life, is the diverting
of the soul from God, and turning downward
to inferior confidences and comforts ; and
this mischoice is the very root of all our mi-
series : Therefore the main end of the holy
Word of God, is to untie the hearts of men
from the world and reduce them to God, as
their only rest and solid comfort ; and this
is here the apostle's mark, at which all the
preceding discourse aims ; it all meets and
terminates in this exhortation, Wherefore
gird up the loins of your mind.
In the words are those three things :' 1st,
The great stay and comfort of the soul, which
the apostle repeats, and represents to his
afflicted brethren : 2dly, His exciting them
to the right apprehension and confident ex-
pectation of it ; Sdly, The inference of that
exhortation.
I. The great matter of their comfort is,
the grace which is brought to them at the
revelation of Jesus Christ. Some for grace
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP, i
read joy, having, as it seems, for
read
the words are not more near one to
another than the things they signify, grace
and joy, but it is commonly thus read.
The estate of grace and that of glory are
not only so inseparably connected, but so
like one to the other, yea so essentially the
same, that the same expressions in scripture
do often fit both of them, and so fit them, that
it is doubtful for which of the two to under-
stand them ; but the hazard is not great, see-
ing they are 83 near, and so one grace being
gbry begun, and glory grace completed,
both are ofcen called the king/lorn of God.
So grace here brought to them is the doc-
trine of grace in the gospel, wherein Jesus
Christ is revealed, and that grace in him ;
for all the whole tenor of the covenant of
grace, and every clause of it, holds in him.
His precious nams runs through it all, it is
the grace of salvation to be fully perfected at
the last and clearest revelation of Jesus
for that the apostle's nearest foregoing words
were concerning that, and it is set up here as
the object of hops, which though often put
for faith, yet in its proper notion, looks out
to that which is t3 come.
This is the last act of grace, and yet
still it is called by itself, and not turned into
the name of merit, notwithstanding all the
obedience, and all the sufferings of the saints
that have gone before it ; yea, even the sal-
vation to be revealed to them is called grace.
But it is needless to insist on this, for cer-
tainly none that partake of grace will be of
another mind, or ever admit the mixture of
the least notion of self-deserving.
Though much dispute hath been bestow-
ed on this, and questions multiplying in the
disputants' hands, as is usual in controver-
sies, one growing out of another : yet truly
I think the debate in this to be but waste ;
it is not only against the voice of the scrip-
tures, and of grace itself in the soul, but even
against sound reason, to imagine any merit-
ing, properly taken, in any mere creature at
his Creator's hands, who hath given him his
being, of which gift all his services and obe-
dience fall short ; so that he can never corns
to be upon even disengaged terms, much less
to oblige anew, and deserve somewhat fur-
ther. Besides, that same grace, by which
any serves and obeys God, is likewise his
own gift, as it is said, 1 Chron. xxix. 14,
All things come of thee, and of thine own
have I given thee. Both the ability, and
the will of giving to him, is from him ; so
that in these respects, not angels, nor man
in innocency, could properly merit at the
hands of God, much lass man lost, redeemed
again, and so coming under the new obliga-
tion of infinite mercy. And this is so evi-
dent a truth, that the most learned and* most
ingenious Jesuits and school-man have in
divers passages of their writings acknowledg-
ed it, that there cannot be any compensation,
and much less merit from the creature to
God, but only in relation to his own free
purpose, and the tenor of his word and co-
venant, which is inviolable, because he is
unchangeable, and truth itself.
His first grace he gives freely, and no less
freely the increases of it, and with the same
gracious hand, sets the crown of glory upon
all the grace that he hath given before. It
is but the following forth of his own work,
and fulfilling his own thoughts of free love,
which love hath no cause, but i:i himself,
and finds none worthy ; but gives them all
the worthiness they have, and accepts of their
love, not as worthy in itself to be accepted,
but because he himself hath wrought it .in
them ; not only the first tastes, but the full
draught of the waters of lift is freely given,
Rev. xxii. 17. Nothing is brought with
them but thirst.
^-,1 . _ m niciii uui i/ttrvff*
Christ: and for this rather I take it here,| That is to be brought.} Not that i,
VEH. 13.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
•11
brought, or that shall he brought ; but if
we will render it strictly, it is, that is a
bringing to you. That blessedness, that
consummation of grace, the saints are has-
tening forward to, walking on in their way
wheresoever it lies indifferently, through
honour and dishonour, through evil report
and good report, 2 Cor. vi. 8. And as they
are hastening to it, it is hastening to them
in the course of time, every day brings it
nearer to them than before ; and notwith-
standing all difficulties and dangers in the
way, they that have their eye and hopes
upon it, shall arrive at it, and it shall be
brought safe to their hand ; all the malice
of men and devils shall not be able to cut
them short cf this grace that is a-bringing
to them against the day cf the revelation of
Jesiis Christ.
At the revelation of Jesus Christ.] This
is repeated from the 7th verse, and it is a
day of revelation, a revelation of the just
judgment of God, Rom. ii. 5. And thus
it would be to all, were it not that it is
withal the revelation of Jesus Christ ,•
therefore is it a day of grace, all light and
blessedness to them that are in him, because
they shall appear in him ; and if he be glo-
rious, they shall not be inglorious and
ashamed. Indeed, were our secret sins then
to be set before our own eyes, in their most
afFrightful visage, and to be set open to the
view of angels and men, and to the eye of
divine Justice, and we left alone so reveal-
ed, who is there that could gather any com-
fort, and would not rather have their thoughts
filled with horror, at the remembrance and
expectation of that day ? And thus indeed
all unbelieving and ungodly men may look
upon it, and find it terrible ; but to those
that are shadowed under the robe of righ-
teous Jesus, yea, that are made one with
him, and shall partake of his glory in his
appearing, it is the sweetest, the most com-
fortable thought that their souls can be en-
tertained and possessed withal, to remember
this glorious revelation of their Redeemer.
It is their great grief here, not that them-
selves are hated and vilified, but that their
Lord Jesus is so little known, and therefore
so much despised in the world ; he is veiled
and hid from the world ; many nations ac-
knowledge him not at all ; and many of
those that do in word confess, yet in deed
deny him ; many that have a form of godli-
ness, do not only want, but mock and scoff
at the power of it ; and to such Christ is not
known, his excellencies are hid from their
eyes. Now this glory of their Lord being
tender to them that love him, they rejoice
much in the consideration of this, that there
is a day at hand, wherein he shall appear in
his brightness, and full of glory to all na-
tions, and all shall be forced to acknowledge
h'.rn ; it shall be without doubt, and unques-
tioned to all, that here is the Messiah, tha
Redeemer, the Judge of the tcorld.
And as it is the day of his revelation, it
is also the revelation of all the adopted sons
of God in him, Rom. viii. 9. They are
now accounted the refuse of the world, ex-
posed to all kind of contempts ; but then
the beams of Christ's glory shall beautify
them, and they shall be known for his, 1 John
iii. 2 ; Col. iii. 4.
Next, there is, 2. The exhortation by
which the apostle excites them to the right
apprehension, and confident expectation of
this grace, hope to the end. The difference
of these two graces, faith and hope, is so
small, that the one is often taken for the
other in scripture ; it is but a different
aspect of the same confidence, faith appre-
hending the infallible truth of those divine
promises, of which hope doth assuredly ex-
pect the accomplishment, and that is their
truth ; so that this immediately results from
the other. This is the anchor fixed within
the veil, that keeps the soul firm against all
the tossings on these swelling seas, and the
winds and tempests that arise upon them.
The firmest thing in this inferior world is a
believing soul.
Faith establishes the heart on Jesus
Christ, and hope lifts it up, being on that
rock, over the head of all intervenient dan-
gers, crosses, and temptations, and sees the
glory and happiness that follow after them.
To the end.] Or perfectly ; and there-
fore, the Christian seeks most earnestly, and
yet waits most patiently, Psal. cx\x. (i.
Indeed this hope is perfect in continuance ; it
is a hope unto the end, because it is perfect
in its nature, although imperfect in degree ;
sometimes doublings are intermixed with it
in the Christian soul, yet this is their infir-
mity, as the Psalmist speaks, Psal. Ixxvii.
10, not the infirmity and insufficiency of
the object of their hope. Worldly hopes
are in their own nature imperfect, they do
imply in their very being doubtfulness and
wavering, because the things whereon they
are built are inconstant and uncertain, and
full of deceit and disappointments. How
can that hope be immoveable, that is built
upon moving sands or quagmire ? That
which is itself unfixed, cannot give stability
to any other thing resting on it ; but because
the truth and goodness of the immutable
God is the foundation of spiritual hope,
therefore it is assured, and like mount Zion,
that cannot be removed, Psal. cxxv. 1, anil
this is its perfection.
We proceed to consider, 3dly, The con-
sequence by which this exhortation is en-
forced. Now the apostle exhorts his brethren
to endeavour to have their hearts possessed
I with as high a measure and degree of this
hope as may be, seeing iu ; self it is so per-
[ feet and firm, so assured a \ hope, that tht y
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. i.
aspire to all the assurance and perfection of
it they can attain.
This hope, as I conceive, is not only to
have the habit of it strong in the soul, but
to act it often, to be often turning that way,
to view that approaching day of liberty,
Lift up your heads, for the day of your
redemption draweth nigh, Luke xxi. 28.
Where this hope is often acted, it will grow
strong, as all habits do ; and where it is
strong, it will work much, and delight to
act often, and will control both the doubt-
ings, and the other many impertinent
thoughts of the mind, and force them to
yield the place to it. Certainly they that
long much for that coming of Christ, will
look often out to it ; we are usually hoping
after other things, that do but offer them-
selves to draw us after them, and to scorn
us. What are the breasts of most of us,
but so many nests of foolish hopes and fears
intermixed, that entertain us day and night,
and steal away our precious hours from us,
that might be laid out so gainfully upon the
wise and sweet thoughts of eternity, and
upon the blessed and assured hope of the
coming of our beloved Saviour ?
The other words of exhortation here used
are subservient to this end, that this hope
may be the more perfect and firm ; and a
similar exhortation is much after the same
manner joined by our Saviour, Luke xii.
35, with the expectance and waiting for his
coming; and in this posture the Israelites
eating the Passover, were expecting their de-
liverance ; so we our full and final freedom.
If you would have much of this, call off
your affections from other things, that they
may be capable of much of it. The same
eye cannot both look up to heaven, and down
to earth at the same time ; the more your
affections are trussed up, and disentangled
from the world, the more expedite and active
will they be in this hope ; the more sober
they are, the less will they fill themselves
with the coarse delights of earth, the more
room will there be in them, and the more
they shall be filled with this hope. It is
great folly in our spiritual warfare, to charge
ourselves superfluously. All fulness of one
thing hinders the receiving and admittance
of any other, especially of things so opposite
as these fulnesses are. Be not drunk with
wine, wherein is excess, but be ye Jilted
with the Holy Ghost, saith the apostle,
Eph. v. 18 ; that is, a brutish fulness makes
a man no man; this divine fulness makes
him more than a man : It were happy to
be so filled with this, as that it might be
called a kind of drunkenness, as it was with
the apostles, Acts ii.
Be sober.} Or watch ; the same word
Mgnifies both, and with good reason : for
vou know the unsober cannot watch. Now
though one main part of sobriety, and that
which more properly and particularly bear;-
this name, viz. temperance in meat and
drink, is here intended ; and though against
the opposite to this, (not only the purity and
spirituality of religion, but) even moral virtue
inveighs as its special enemy ; yea nature
itself, and they that only naturally consider
the body, and its interest of life and health,
find reason enough to cry down this base
intemperance, which is so hateful by its own
deformity, and withal carries its punishment
along with it ; although, I say, this sobriety
is indeed most necessary for the preservation
of grace and spiritual temper of the soul,
and is here intended ; yet I conceive it is
not all that is here meant, the word is more
general, for the moderate and sober use of
all things worldly, as he says, Gird up the
loins of your mind, so it is to be understood ;
let your minds be sober, all your affections
inwardly attempered to your spiritual con-
dition, not glutting yourselves with fleshly
and perishing delights of any kind ; for the
more you take in of these, the less you shall
have of spiritual comfort and of this perfect
hope. They that pour out themselves upon
present delights, look not like strangers and
hopeful expectants of another life, and better
pleasures.
And certainly the Captain of our salvation
will not own them for his followers, that lie
down to drink of these waters, but only such
as in passing take of them with their hand.
As excessive eating or drinking makes the
body sickly and lazy, fit for nothing but
sleep ; and besots the mind, as it cloys up
with filthy crudities the way through which
the spirits should pass, bemiring them, and
making them move heavily as a coach in a
deep way : Thus doth all immoderate use
of the world, and its delights, wrong the soul
in its spiritual condition, makes it sickly and
feeble, full of spiritual distempers, and in-
activity ; benumbs the graces of the Spirit,
and fills the soul with sleepy vapours ; makes
it grow securs and heavy in spiritual exercises,
and obstructs the way and motion of the
Spirit of God in the soul ; therefore, if you
would be spiritual, healthful and vigorous,
and enjoy much of the consolations of hea-
ven, be sparing and sober in those of the
earth, and what you abate of the one shall
be certainly made up in the other. Health,
and a good constitution of body, is a more
constant remaining pleasure, than that of ex-
cess and momentary pleasing of the palate :
Thus the comfort of this hope is a more re-
fined and more abiding contentment than any
that is to be found in the passing enjoyments
of this world ; and it is a foolish bargain, to
exchange a drachm of the one for many
pounds of the other. Consider how press,
ingly the apostle St. Paul reasons, 1 Cor. ix.
25. And take withal our Saviour's exhor-
tation, Be sober and watch, for ye know
VEA. 13.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
43
not at what hour your Lord will come,
Mutt. xxv. 13.
The double -minded man, says St James,
is unstable in all his ways, Jam. i. 8. Al-
though the word signifies usually deceitful-
ness and dissimulation of mind, answering
lo the Hebrew phrase of a heart and a heart ;
yet here I conceive it hath another sense,
agreeable to the apostle's present discour<e
and scope ; it is doubtfulness, and unsettled
wavering of mind.
It is impossible that the course of life can
be any other but uneven and incomposed, if
the spring of it, the heart, whence are the
issues of life, Prov. iv. 23, be so. A man
that is not agreed within, not of one mind
with himself, although there were nothing
to trouble nor alter him from without, that
inward commotion is a sufficient principle
and cause of inconstancy : How much more
then must he waver, when he is assaulted,
and beat upon by outward oppositions ; he
is like the waves of the sea, of himself ever
fluctuating to and fro, according to the na-
tural instability of that element ; and at the
same time exposed to the tossings of all the
waves that arise.
It is therefore in religion a main thing to
have the heart established and fixed in the
belief and hope of the great things we look
for ; this will beget strength of resolution,
and constancy in action, and in suffering too.
And this is here our apostle's great intent to
ballast the souls of his brethren with this firm
belief, that they might sail even and steady
in those seas of trouble. Wherefore, says
he, if these things we have spoken be thus,
if there is indeed truth in them, and you be-
lieve it so, what remains then, but to resolve
for it upcn any terms, to fit for the journey
whatsoever be the difficulties, and in them
all to keep up the soul by that certain hope
that will not disappoint us ?
What he hath said before, is as it were
showing them some fruit, some clusters of
grapes of that promised land ; and this ex-
hortation is answerable to Caleb's word there,
Num. xiii. 30, Seeing it is so good a land,
let us go up and possess it. Though there
be fleshly objects, sons of Anak, giants of
temptations and afflictions, and sins to be
overcome, ere it be ours ; yet it is well worth
all our labour, and our God has ascertained
us of the victory, and given us, by his own
word, undoubted hope of possessing it.
That which he principally exhorts unto in
this verse, is the right placing and firm con-
tinuing of our hope. When we consider how
much of our life is taken up this way, in hop-
ing for things we have not, and that even
they who have most of what others are desir-
ing and pursuing, yet are still hoping for
•omewhat further; and when men have at-
taincd one thing, though it be something!
they promised themselves to rest contented
withal ; yet, presently- upon obtaining if,
hope begins to find out some new matter for
itself; — I say, considering the incessant work-
ing of this passion throughout our life, it is
of very much concernment for us to give it a
right object, and not still to be living in
vanity and uncertainty. Here is then that
for our hope to apply itself to, after which it
needs not change, nor can change without
the greatest loss. Hope for the grace that
is coming at the revelation of Jesus Christ ;
bestow all your hope on this, and recall it not.
Hope perfectly, and to the end.
The other part of the exhortation relates
to this as the main end, and in the original
runs in this form, Wherefore, girding up
the loins of your mind, being sober, hope :
And to the end hope may be the n?ore per-
fect, and endure to the end, and more like it-
self, i. e. heavenly, your minds must be freed
from the earth, that they may set for heaven ;
and this is expressed in two several words,
but both meaning much the same thing:
That temper of sobriety, and posture of being
girt, are no other but the same removal of
earthly-mindedness, and encumbering cares
and desires of earthly things.
Gird up the loins.} The custom of these
countries was, that wearing long garments,
they trussed them up for work or journey.
Chastity is indeed a Christian grace, and a
great part of the soul's freedom and spiritual-
ness, and fits it much for divine things : yet
I think it is not so particularly and entirely
intended in this expression, as St. Jerom and
others take it ; for though the girding* of the
loins seemed to them to favour that sense, it
is only in allusion to the manner of girding
up that was then used : And besides, the
apostle here makes it clear he meant some-
what else ; for he says the loins of your
minds. Gather up your affections, that they
hang not down to hinder you in your race,
and so in your hopes of obtaining ; and do
not only gather them up, but tie them up, /
that they fall not down again ; or if they do,
be sure to gird them straiter than before.
Thus be still as men for your journey, tend-
ing to another place. This is not our home,
nor the place of our rest ; therefore our loins
must be still girt up, our affections kept from
training and dragging down upon the earth.
Men that are altogether earthly and pro-
fane are so far from gilding up the loins of
their mind, that they set them wholly down-
wards. The very highest part of their soul
is glued to the earth, and they are daily par-
takers of the serpent's curse, they go on their
belly and eat the dust, they mind earthly
things, Phil. iii. 19. Now this disposition
is inconsistent with grace ; but they that are
in some measure truly godly, though they
grovel not so, yet may be somewhat guilty of
suffering their affections to fall too low, that
is, too much conversant with vanity, and
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHJ
44
further engaged than is meet, to some things of holiness, without which,t he apprehension
that are worldly, and by this means abate of
their heavenly hopes, and make them less per-
fect, less clear and sensible to their souls.
And because they are most subject to take
this liberty in the fair and calm weather of
prosperity, God doth often, and wisely and
mercifully, cause rough blasts of affliction to
arise upon them, to make them gather their
loose garments nearer to them, and gird them
closer.
Let us then remember our way, and where
we are, and keep our garments girt up, for
we walk amidst thorns and briers, that if we
let them down, will entangle and stop us, and
possibly tear our garments. We walk throng))
a world where there is much mire of sinful
pollutions, and therefore cannot but defile
them ; and the crowd we are among will be
ready to tread on them, yea our own feet may
be entangled in them, and so make us stum-
ble, and possibly fall. Our only safest way
is to gird up our affections wholly.
This perfect hope is enforced by the whole
strain of it : For well may we fix our hope
on that happiness to which we are appointed
in the eternal election of God, ver. 2, and
born to it by our new birth, ver. 3, 4, and
preserved to it by his almighty power, ver. 5,
and cannot be cut short of it by all the afflic-
tions and oppositions in the way, no, nor so
much as deprived by them of our present joy
and comfort in the assurance of it, ver. G, 7,
8, 9. And then being taught the greatness
and excellency of that blessed salvation, by
the doctrine of the prophets and apostles, and
the admiration of angels, all these conspire to
confirm our hope, to make it perfect and per-
severing to the end.
And we may also learn by the foregoing
doctrine, that this is the place of our trial and
conflict, but the place of our rest is above :
We must here have our loins girt ; but when
we come there, we may wear our long white
robes at their full length without disturbance,
for there is nothing there but peace ; and
without danger of defilement, for no unclean
thing is there, yea, the streets to that new
Jerusalem are paved with pure gold. To
Him, then, that hath prepared that city for
us, let us ever give praise.
YKR. 14. As obedient children, not fashioning your-
selves according to the foimer lusts, in your ig-
norance :
VKR. 15. But as he which hath called you is holy,
so be ye holy in all manner of conversation j
VER. 16. Because it is written, Be ye holy, for I am
holy.
" THY word is a lamp unto my feet," says
David, "and a light unto my path." Psal.
cxix. 105, not only comfortable, as light is
to the eyes, but withal directive, as a lamp
to his feet. Thus here the apostle doth not
only furnish consolation against distress, bu.
exhorts and directs his brethren in the way
and feeling of those comforts cannot subsist.
This is no other but a clearer and fuller
ixpression, and further pressing of that so-
briety and spiritualness of mind and life, that
lie jointly exhorted unto, with that of perfect
hope. ver. 13. as inseparably .connected with
it. If you would enjoy this hope, be not
conformed to the lusts of your former igno-
rance, but be holy.
There is no doctrine in the world either
so pleasant or so pure as that of Christianity :
It is matchless both in sweetness and holiness.
The faith and hope of a Christian have in
them an abiding precious balm of comfort ;
but this is never to be so lavished away, as
to be poured into the puddle of an impure
conscience : No, that were to lose it un-
worthily : As many as have this hope puri-
fy themselves, even as he is pure, 1 John
ii. 3. Here they are commanded to be holy
as he is holy. Faith first purifies the heart,
Acts xv. 9, empties it of the love of sin, and
then fills it with the consolation of Christ,
and the hope of glory.
It is a foolish misgrounded fear, and such
as argues inexperience of the nature and
workings of divine grace, to imagine that the
assured hope of salvation will beget vmholi-
ness and presumptuous boldness in sin, and
therefore that the doctrine of that assurance
is a doctrine of licentiousness : Our apostle,
we see, is not so sharp-sighted as these men
think themselves ; he apprehends no sucli
matter, but indeed supposes the contrary as
unquestionable : He take's not assured hope
and holiness as enemies, but joins them as
nearest friends, hope perfectly, and be holy.
They are mutually strengthened and in-
creased each by the other. The more as-
surance of salvation, the more holiness, the
more delight in it, and study of it, as the
only way to that end. And as labour is then
most pleasant, when we are made surest it
shall not be lost, nothing.doth make the soul
so nimble and active in obedience as this oil
of gladness, this assured hope of glory.
Again, the more holiness is in the soul, the
clearer always is this assurance, as we see
the face of the heavens best when there are
fewest clouds. The greatest affliction doth
not damp this hope so much as the smallest
sin, yea, it may be the more lively and sen-
sible to the soul by affliction ; but by sin it
always suffers loss, as the experience of all
Christians does certainly teach them.
The apostle exhorts to obedience, and eu-
forceth it by a most persuasive reason. His
exhortation is, 1. Negative, Not fashioning
yourselves. 2. Positive, Be ye holy.
I. For the negative part of the exhorta-
tion. That which he would remove and
separate them from is lusts: This is in.
scripture the usual name of all the irregular
and sinful desires of the heart, both the pol-
VF.II. 14 — 16.j
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
listed habits of them, and their corrupt
streams, both as they are within, and out-
wardly vent themselves in the lives of men.
The apostle St. John, 1 John ii. 17, calls it
the lust of the world, and ver. l«i, love of the
world; and then, ver. 10. branches it into
those three that are indeed the base Anti-
trinity that the world worships, the lust of
the eyes, the lust of the flesh, and the pride
of life.
The soul of man unconverted is no other
but a den of impure lusts, wherein dwells
pride, uncleanness, avarice, malice, &c. just
as Babylon is described, Rev. xviii. 2, or as
Isa. xiii. 21. Were a man's eyes opened,
he would as much abhor to remain with him-
self in that condition, " as to dwell in a house
full of snakes and serpents," as St. Austin
says. And the first part of conversion is
once to rid the soul of these noisome inhabi-
tants, for there is none at all found naturally
vacant and free from them. This the
apostle here expresses of the believers he
wrote to, that these lusts were theirs before in
their ignorance.
There is a truth in it, that all sin arises
from some kind of ignorance, or, at least,
from present inadvertence and inconsidera-
tion, turning away the mind from the light ;
which therefore, for the time, is as if it were
not, and is all one with ignorance in the
effect ; and therefore the works of sin are all
called works of darkness. For were the
true visag2 of sin seen at a full light, un-
dressed and unpainted, it were impossible,
while it so appeared, that any one soul could
be in love with it, but would rather fly it, as
hideous and abominable. But because the
soul unrenewed is all darkness, therefore it
is all lust, and love of sin ; no order in it, be-
cause no light. As at the first in the world
confusion and darkness went together, and
darkness was upon the face of the deep,
Gen. i. 2, it is so in the soul, the more igno-
rance, the more abundance of lusts.
That light that frees the soul, and rescues
it from the very kingdom of darkness, must be
somewhat beyond that which nature can attain
to. All the light of philosophy, natural and
moral, is not sufficient, yea, the very know-
ledge of the law, severed from Christ, serves
not so to enlighten and renew the sonl as to
free it from the darkness or ignorance here
spoken of; for our apostle writes to Jews
that knew the law, and were instructed in ft
before their conversion, yet he calls those
times wherein Christ was unknown to them,
the times of their ignorance. Though the
sf.rs shine never so bright, and the moon
with them in its full, yet they do not, alto-
gether, make it day, still it is night till the
sun appear. Therefore the Hebrew doctors,
upon that word of Solomon's, Vanity of
vanities, all is vanity, say, Vana etiam lex,
dc,nec venerii Hfessias. Thi-refore of him
Zacharias says, That the day spriny from
on high hath visited us, to give light to them
that sit in darkness, and in the shadow of
death, and to guide our feet into the way of
peace, Luke i. 78> 79-
A natural man may attain to very much
acquired knowledge of the doctrine of Christ,
and may discourse excellently of it, and yet
still his soul be in the chains of darkness,
fast locked up under the ignorance here men-
tioned, and so still of a carnal mind, in sub-
jection to these lusts of ignorance.
The saving light of faith is a beam of the
Sun of Righteousness himself that he sends
into the soul, by which he makes it discern
his incomparable beauties, and by that sight
alienates it from all those lusts and desires
that do then appear to be what indeed they
are, vileness and filthinsss itself, makes the
soul wonder at itself, how it could love such
base trash so long, and so fully resolves it
now on the choice of Jesus Christ, the chief
among ten thousands, Cant. v. 10, yea, the
fairest of the children of men, Psal. xlv. 2,
for that he is withal the only begotten Son
of God, the brightness of his Father's glory,
and the express image of his person,
Heb. i. 3.
The soul once acquainted with him, can
with disdain turn off all the base solicita-
tions and importunities of sin, and command
them away that formerly had command over
it, though they plead former familiarities,
and the interest they once had in the heart
of a Christian, before it was enlightened and
renewed. He can well tell them after his
sight of Christ, that it is true : Whih he knew
no better than they were, he thought them
lovely and pleasing, but that one glance of
the face of Jesus Christ hath turned them
all into extreme blackness and deformity;
that so soon as ever Christ appeared to him,
they straightway lost all their credit and
esteem in his heart, and have lost it for
ever, they need never look to recover it any/
more.
And it is from this that the apostle en-
forceth this dehortation. It is true the lusts
and vanities that are in request in the world,
were so with you, but it was when you were
blind, they were the lusts of your ignorance ;
but now you know how ill they will suit
with the light of that gospel which you pro-
fess, and that inward light of faith, which
is in the souls of such as be really believers.
Therefore, seeing you have renounced
them, keep them still at that distance, never
admit them more to lodge within you ; that
sure you cannot do : but do not so much as
for custom's sake, and compliance with the
world about you, outwardly conform your-
selves to any of them, or make semblance
to partake of them, as St. Paul says, Have
no more fellowship with the unfruitful
works of darkness, but rather reprove
46
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP, i
them Eph V. 11 ; reprove them by your and persuaded by the tenderest mercies ot
carriage and let the light of your holy lives God. N.>w though this Hebrew manner of
discover their fulness. ' speech, sons of obedience or disobedience,
II We have the positive part of the signify nj mors but obedient or disobedient
apostle's exhortation, Be ye holy. This persons, yet it doth signify them most em-
includes the former, the renouncing of the phatically, and means a high degree of
lust and pollutions of the world, both in obedience or disobedience; ; these sows of
heart and life ; and adds farther, filling of disobedience, ver. 2, are likewise sons of
their room, bsing cast out with the beautify- wrath, v;r. 3.
ing graces of the Spirit of God, and the | Of all children, the children of God are
acting of those in their whole conversation most obliged to obedience, for he is both the
in private and abroad, in conversing with wisest and the most loving of fathers. And
themselves, and conversing with others whe- the sum of all his commands is that which
ther good or bad, in a constant even course, is their glory and happiness, that they en-
still like themselves, and like him who liath deavour to be like him, to resemble their
called them : For it is a most unseemly and heavenly Father : Be ye perfect, as your
unpleasant thing to see a man's life full of heavenly Father is perfect, says our Sa-
ups and downs, one step like a Christian, j viour, Matt. v. 48. And here the apostle
and another like a worldling ; it cannot choose citing out of the law, Be ye holy, for I am
but both pain himself, and mar the edifica- holy, Lsv. xi. 44 ; law and gospel agree in
tion of others. I this. And as children that resemble their
But as he which hath called you is holy.} fathers, as they grow up in years they grow
Consider whose you are, and you cannot the liker to them ; thus the children of God
deny that it becomes you to be holy. Con- ' do increase in their resemblance, and are
sider your near relations to the holy God ; daily more and more renewed after his
this is expressed two ways, namely, as image. There is in them an innate likeness
children, and as he which hath called you ; by his image impressed on them in their
which is all one as if he had said, hath be- first renovation, and his Spirit dwelling
gotten you again. The very outward voca- within them ; and there is a continuing in.
tion of those that profess Christ, presseth j crease of it, by their pious imitation and
holiness upon them, but the inward far more, study of conformity, which is here exhort.
You were running to destruction in the way
of sin, and there was a voice together with
the gospel preached to your ear, that spake
into your heart, and called you back from
that path of death to the way of holiness,
which is the only way of life. He hath
severed you from the mass of the profane
world, and picked you out to be jewels for
himself; he hath set you apart for this end.
ed to.
The imitation of vicious men, and the
corrupt world, is here forbid ; the imitation
of men's indifferent customs is base and
servile ; the imitation of the virtues of good
men is commendable : But the imitation
of this highest Pattern, this primitive Good-
ness, the most holy God, is the top of excel-
lency. And it is well said, Summa reli-
that you maybe holy to him, as the Hebrew \ffionis est imitari quern colis. All of us
word that signifies holiness, imports setting J offer him some kind of worship, but few
apart, or fitting for a peculiar use ; be not seriously study and endeavour this blessed
then untrue to his design, He hath nonconformity.
called you to uncleanness, but unto holi- \ There is, no question, among those that
neaa, 1 Thess. iv. 7. Therefore be ye holy. I profess themselves the people of God, a se-
is sacrilege for you to dispose of your- lect number, that are indeed his children,
selves after the impure manner of the world
and to apply yourselves to 'any profane use,
whom God hath consecrated to himself.
As children.] This is no doubt relative
to that which he spoke, ver. 3, by way of
thanksgiving ; and that Wherefore of the
13th verse draws it down hither by way of
exhortation. Seeing you are by a spiritual
and new birth the children of so great and
good a Father, who commands you holi-
ness ; be obedient children in being holy ;
and seeing he himself is most holy, be like
him as his childr:n, Be ye holy as he is holy.
As obedient children. ] Opposite to that,
Eph. ii. 2, gons of disobedience or unbelief
as the word may be rendered, and that is
always the spring of disobedience. Sons of
mispersuasibleness, that will not be drawn
and bear his image both in their hearts and
in their lives ; this impression of holiness is
on themselves and their conversation : But
with the most, a name and a form of godliness
is all they have for religion. Alas ! we
speak of holiness, and we hear of it, and it
niay be we commend it, but we act it not ;
or if we do, it is but acting of it, in that sense
the word is taken for a personated acting, as
on a stage in the sight of men, not as in the
sight of our lovely God, lodging it in our
hearts, and from thence diffusing it into all
our actions. A child is then truly like his
father, when not only his visage resembles
him, but more his mind and inward disposi-
tion : Thus are the true children of God
like their heavenly Father in their words and
in their actions, but most of all in heart.
VER. 17-J
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
It is no matter though the profane world,
that so hate God that it cannot endure his
image, do mock and revile : It is thy ho-
nour, as David said, 2 Sam. vi. 22, to be
thus more vile, in growing still more like un-
to him in holiness ; and though the civil
man count thy fashion a little odd, and too
precise, it is because he knows nothing above
that model of goodness he hath set himself,
and therefore approves of nothing beyond it :
He knows not God, and therefore doth not
discern and esteem what is likest him. When
courtiers come down into the country, the
common home-bred people possibly think
their habit strange ; but they care not for
that, it is the fashion at court. What need
then the godly be so tender foreheaded, as to
be out of countenance because the world looks
on holiness as a singularity ; it is only the
fashion in the highest court, yea, of the King
of kings himself.
For I am holy.] As it will raise our en-
deavour high, to look on the highest Pattern,
so it will lay our thoughts low concerning
ourselves. Men compare themselves with
men, and readily with the worst, and flatter
themselves with that comparative betterness :
This is not the way to see spots, to look into
the rr.uddy streams of profane men's lives :
but look into the clear fountain of the word,
and there we may both discern and wash
them ; and consider the infinite holiness of
God, and this will humble us to the dust.
When Isaiah saw the glory of the Lord, and
heard the Seraphims cry, Holy, holy, holy,
he cried out of his own and the people's un-
holiness, Woe is me, for I am undone, for
I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell
in the midst of a people of unclean lips ;
for mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord
of hosts, chap. vi. 3, 4.
VER. 17. And if ye call on the Father, who, with-
out respect of persons, juclgeth according to every
man's work, pass the time of your sojourning here
in fear.
THE temptations that meet a Christian in
the world to turn him aside from the straight
way of obedience and holiness, are either
such as present the hope of some apparent
good, to draw him from that way ; or the
fear of some evil, to drive and affright him
from it : And therefore the word of God is
much in strengthening the Christian mind
against these two, and it doth it especially,
by possessing it both with hopes and fears of
a higher nature, that do by far weigh down
die other.
The most frequent assaults of temptations
are upon these two passions of the mind,
therefore they are chiefly to be fortified and
defended, by a hope an'd fear opposite to
those that do assault us, and sufficiently
string to resist and repel them.
These two therefore our apostle here urges :
1. The hope of that glory that the gospel
propounds, and so outbids »Y. the proffers of
the world, both in the greatness and the cer-
tainty of its promises. 2. The fear of God,
the greatest and justest Judge, only worthy
to be feared and reverenced ; the highest
anger and enmity of all the world being less
than nothing in comparison of his smallest
displeasure. We have here,
1. This fear ; 2. The reason enforcing it ;
3. The term or continuance of it.
1. The fear itself, in fear. But how suits
this with the high discourse that went be-
fore, of perfect assured hope, of faith, and
love and joy, yea, joy unspeakable and glo-
rious, arising out of these ? How are all
those excellencies fallen as it were into a'
dungeon, when fear is mentioned after them ?
Doth not the apostle St. John say, that true
love casteth out fear, 1 John iv. 18 ? And
is it not more clearly opposite to perfect or
assured hope, and to faith and joy ?
If ye understand it aright, this is such a
fear as doth not prejudice, but preserve those
other graces, and the comfort and joy that
arises from them : And they all agree so
well with it, that they are naturally helps to
each other.
It were superfluous to insist en .the defin-
ing this passion of fear, and the manifold dis-
tinctions of it, either v/ith philosophers or
divines. The fear here recommended is,
out of question, a holy self-suspicion and fear
of offending God, which may not only con-
sist with assured hope of salvation, and with
faith, and love, and spiritual joy, but is their
inseparable companion, as all divine graces
are linked together, (as the Heathens said of
their three Graces,) and as they dwell to-
gether, they grow or decrease together. The
more a Christian believes, and loves, and re-
joices in the love of God, the more unwilling
surely he is to displease him, and if in dan-
ger, the more afraid of it ; and on the other
side, this fear being the true principle of a
wary and holy conversation, flying sin and*
the occasions of sin, and temptations to it,
and resisting them when they make an as-
sault, is as a watch or guard that keeps out
the enemies and disturbers of the soul, and
so preserves its inward peace, keeps the as-
surance of faith and hope unmolested, and
that joy which they cause, and the inter-
course and societies of love betwixt the soul
and her Beloved uninterrupted ; all which
are then most in danger when this fear abates
and falls to slumbering, for then some no-
table sin or other is ready to break in and put
all into disorder, and for a time makes those
graces and the comfort of them, to present
feeling, as much to seek as if they were not
there at all.
No wonder, then, if the apostle, having
stirred up his Christian brethren, whatsoever
be their estate in the world, to seek to be
rich in those jewels of faith, and hope, and
COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP, i
love, and spiritual ]oy, and then considering
that they travel amongst a world of thieves
and robbers ; no wonder, I say, that he adds
this, advises them to give those their jewels
in custody, under God, to this trusty and
watchful grace of godly fear ; and having
earnestly exhorted them to holiness, he is very
fitly particular in this fear, which makes up
so great part of that holiness, that it is often
in scripture named for it all.
Solomon calls it the beginning or the top
of wisdom, Prov. xv. 33 ; the word signifies
both, and it is both. The beginning of it is
the beginning of wisdom, and the progress
and increase of it, is the increase of wisdom.
That hardy rashness that many account va- '
lour is the companion of ignorance ; and of
all rashness, boldness to sin is the most,
witless and foolish. There is in this, as in :
all fear, an apprehension of an evil, whereof
we are in danger. The evil is sin, and the
displeasure of God, and punishment follow- j
ing upon sin. The godly man judgeth wi=e- ,
ly, as the truth is, that sin is the greatest of
evils, and the cause of all other evils ; it is a |
transgression of the just law of God, and so
a provocation of his just anger, and the cause
of those punishments, temporal, spiritual, and
eternal, which he inflicts. And then consi-
dering how mighty he is to punish, both the
power and reach of his hand, that it is both most
heavy and unavoidable ; all these things may
and should concur to the working of this fear.
There is, no doubt, a great difference bs-
twixt those two kinds of fear that are usually
differenced by the name of servile and filial
fear ; but certainly the most genuine fear of
the sons of God, that call him Father, doth
not exclude the consideration of his justice,
and of the punishment of sin that his justice
inflicts : We see here it is U5:cl as the great
motive of this fear, that he judgeth every
man according to his icorks. And David,
in that Psalm wherehi he so much breathes
forth those other sweet affections of love and
hope, and delight in God anl in his word,
yet expresseth this fear even of the justice of
God, My flesh trembleth for fear of thee,
and I am afraid of thy judgments, Psal.
cxix. 120. The flesh is to be awed with
divine judgments, though the higher and
surer part of the soul is strongly and freely
tied with the cords of love. Temporal cor-
rections indeed they fear nit so much in
themselves, as that impression of wrath that
may ba upon them for their sins, Psal. vi. 1,
&c. That is the main matter of their fear,
because their happiness is in his love, and
tVe light of his countenance, that is their
life : They regard not how the world looks
upon them, they care not who frown, so he
smile on them ; and becauss no other enemy,
nor evil in the world, can deprive them of
this but their own sin, therefore it is that
they fear most.
As the evil is great, so the Christian hath
great reason to fear in regard of his danger
of it, considering the multitude, strength ami
craft of his enemies, and his own weakness
and unskilfulness to resist them. And his sad
experience in being often foiled, teacheth him
that it is thus ; he cannot be ignorant of it ;
he finds how often his own resolutions and
purposes deceive him. Certainly a godly man
is sometimes driven to wonder at his own
frailty and inconstancy. What strange dif-
ferences will be betwixt him and himself;
how high and how delightful at some times
are his thoughts of God, and the glory of the
life to come ; and yet how easily at another
time base temptations will bemire him, or at
the least molest and vex him ; and this keeps
him in a continual fear, and that fear in con-
tinual vigilancy and circumspectness. When
he looks up to God, and considers the truth
of his promises, and the sufficiency of his
grace and protection, and the almighty strength
of his Redeemer, these things fill his soul
with confidence and assurance : But when
he turns his eye downward again upon him-
self, and finds so much remaining corruption
within, and so many temptations, and dan-
gers, and adversaries without, this forces him
not only to fear, but to despair of himself;
and it should do so, that his trust in God may
be the purer and more entire : That confidence
in God will not make him secure and pre-
sumptuous in himself, nor that fear of him-
self make him diffident of God. This fear
is not opposite to faith, but high-mindedness
and presumption are, Rom. xi. 20. To a
natural man it would S3em an odd kind of
reasoning that of the apostle, Phil. ii. 12, 13,
It is God that worketh in you to will and
to do of his good pleasure. Therefore
would he think, you may save labour, you
may sit still, and not work ; or if you work,
you may work fearlessly, being so sure of his
help : but the apostle is of another mind ;
his inference is, therefore, work out your
own salvation, and work it with fear and
trembling.
But why should he that hath assurance of
salvation fear ? If there is truth in his
assurance, nothing can disappoint him : not
sin itself, it is true ; but it is no less true,
that if he do not fear to sin, there is no truth
in his assurance ; it is not the assurance of
faith, but the mispsrsuasion of a secure and
profane mind.
2. Suppose it so, that the sins of a godly
man cannot be such as to cut him short of
that salvation whereof he is assured ; yet they
may be such as for a time will deprive him
of that assurance, and not only remove the
comfort he hath in that, but let in horrors
and anguish of conscience in its stead.
Though a believer is freed from hell, and v:s
may overstrain this assurance in our doctrine,
beyond what the soberest and devoutest ir.er.
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEK.
49
in the world can ever find in themselves, counteth of them as they are, and sometimes
though they will not trouble themselves to
contest and dispute with them that say they
have it, so that his soul cannot come there ;
yet some sins may bring as it were a piece of
hell into his soul for a time, and this is rea-
son enough for any Christian in his right
wits to be afraid of sin. No man would will-
ingly hazard himself upon a fall that may
break his leg, or some other bone, though he
could be made sure that he should not break
his neck, or that his life were not at all in dan-
ger, and that he should be perfectly cured ;
yet the pain and trouble of such a hurt would
terrify him, and make him wary and fearful
when he walks in danger. The broken bones
that David complains of after his fall, may
work fear and wariness in those that hear him,
though they were ascertained of a like re-
covery.
This fear is not cowardice, it doth hot de-
base, but elevates the mind ; for it drowns
all lower fears, and begets true fortitude, and
courage to encounter all dangers, for a good
conscience and the obeying of God. The
righteous is bold as a lion, (Proverbs xxviii.
I ) ; he dares do any thing but offend God,
and to dare do that is the greatest folly, and
baseness, and weakness in the world. From
this fear have sprung all the generous re-
solutions and patient sufferings of the saints
and martyrs of God, because they durst not
sin against him ; therefore they durst be im-
prisoned, and impoverished, and tortured,
and die for him. Thus the prophets set car-
nal and godly fear as opposite, and the one
expelling the other, Isa. viii. 12, 13. And
our Saviour, Luke xii. 4, Fear not them
that kill the body: Bui fear him, which
after he hath killed, hath power to cast into
hell. • Yea, I say unto you, fear him.
Fear not, but fear ; and therefore fear, that
you may not fear. This fear is like the
trembling that hath been observed in some
cf great courage before battles. Moses was
bold and fearless in dealing with a proud
and wicked king ; but when God appeared,
he said, as the apostle infonns us, I exceed-
ingly fear and quake, Heb. xii. 21.
II. The reason we have here to persuade
this fear, is twofold : 1. Their relation to
God ; 2. Their relation to the world.
First, To God as their Father, as their
Judge. Because you do call him Father,
and profess yourselves his children begotten
again by him, (for this looks back to that,)
it becomes you, as obedient children, to stand
in awe, and fear to offend him your Father,
and a Father so full of goodness and tender
love ; but as he is the best Father, so con-
sider that he is withal the greatest and just-
est Judge, he judges every man according
in his work.
God always sees and discerns men, and
all their work, and jndgeth, that is, ac-
in this life declares this his judgment of
them to their own consciences, and in some
to the view of others, in visible punishments
and rewards : But the most solemn judg-
ment of all, is reserved to that great day
which he hath appointed, wherein he will
judge the world in righteousness by his Son
Jesus, Acts xvii. 32.
There is here the sovereignty of this Judge,
the universality of his judgment, and the
equity of it. All must answer at his great
Court, he is supreme Judge of the world ;
he made it, and hath therefore unquestion-
able right to judge it, he judgeth every
man ; and it is a most righteous judgment,
which hath these two in it : 1. An exact
and perfect knowledge of all men's works ;
2. Impartial judgment of them so known.
This second is expressed negatively, by re-
moving the crooked rule which man's judg-
ment often follows ; it is without considera-
tion of those personal differences that men eye
so much : And the first is according to the
work itself, Job xxiv. 19, he accepteth not
the person of princes, nor regardeth the
rich more than the poor ; and the reason is
added there, for they are all the work of
his hands. He made all the persons, and he
makes all those differences himself, as it
pleaseth him ; therefore he doth not admire
them as we do, no, nor at all regard them :
We find very great odds betwixt stately
palaces and poor cottages, betwixt a prince's
robes and a beggar's cloak ; but to God
they are all one, all these petty differences
vanish in comparison of his own greatness.
Men are great and small compared one with
another ; but they altogether amount to just
nothing in respect of him. We find high
mountains and low vallies on this earth ; but
compared with the vast compass of the hea-
vens, it is all but as a point, and hath no
sensible greatness at all. ^
Nor regards he any other differences to bias
his judgment from the works of men to their
persons. You profess the true religion, and
call him Father ; but if you live devoid of
his fear, and be disobedient children, he will
not spare you because of that relation, but
rather punish you the more severely, because
you pretended to be his children, and yet
obeyed him not ; therefore you shall find
him your Judge, and an impartial Judge of
your works. Remember therefore that your
Father is this Judge, and fear to offend him.
But then indeed a believer may look back to
the other for comfort, that abuses it not to a
sinful security. He resolves this willingly,
I will not sin, because my Father is this
just Judge ; but for my frailties I will hope
for mercy, because the Judge is my Father.
Their works : Comprehend all actions and
words, yea, thoughts, and each work entirely,
taken outside and inside together : For ha
D
50
gees all alike, and judgeth according to al
together ; he looks on the wheels and pacef
within, as well as on the handle without, am
therefore ought we to fear the least crooked
ness of our intentions in the bsst works ; fo
if we entertain any such, and study not sin
gleness of heart, this will cast all, althougl
we pray, and hear the word, and preach it
and live outwardly unblameably. And in
that great judgment, all secret things shall
be manifest ; as they are always open to th(
eye of this Judge, so he shall then open then
before men and angels : Therefore let the
remembrance and frequent consideration of
this all-seeing Judge, and of that great judg-
ment, waken our hearts, and beget in us this
fear, 2 Cor. v. 10, 11. If you would have
confidence in that day, and not fear it when
it comes, fear it now, so as to avoid sin ; for
they that now tremble at it, shall then, when
it comes, lift up their faces with joy : And
they that will not fear it now, shall then be
overwhelmed with fears and terror : they
shall have such a burden of fear then, as that
they shall account the hills and mountains
lighter than it.
The reason of this fear, so far as it refers
to their relation to the world, may be united
with the next head : As,
III. We have the term or continuance of
the fear commanded : [Pass the time of
your sojourning here in fear.] In this I
conceive is implied another persuasion of this
fear. You are sojourners and strangers, as
here the word signifies : and a wary circum-
spect carriage becomes strangers, because
they are most exposed to wrongs and hard
accidents. You are encompassed with ene-
mies and snares ; how can you be secure in
the midst of them ? This is not your rest ;
watch, fear becomes this your sojourning.
Perfect peace and security is reserved for you
*t home, and that is the last term of this
fear ; it continues all the time of this so-
journing life, dies not before us, we and it
shall expire together.
Blessed is he that feareth always, says
Solomon, Prov. xxviii. 14. In secret and in
society, in his own house, and in God's, we
must hear the word with fear, and preach it
with fear, afraid to miscarry in our intentions
and manners. Serve the Lord with fear
yea, in times of inward comfort and joy, yet
rejoice with trembling, Psal. ii. 11. Not
only when a man feels most his own weak-
ness, but when he finds himself strongest.
None are so high advanced in grace here be-
low, as to be out of need of thig grace ; but
when their sojourning shall be done, and
they are come home to their Father's house
above, then no more fearing. No entry for
danger there, and therefore no fear. A holy
reverence of the majesty of God they shall
indeed have then most of all, as the angels
ktill have, because they shall see him most
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. i.
clearly, and the more he is known, the more
reverenced : But this fear that relates to
danger shall then vanish ; for in that world
there is neither sin, nor sorrow for sin, nor
temptation to sin ; no more conflicts : but
after a full and final victory, an eternal paace,
an everlasting triumph. Not only fear, but
faith and hope, do imply some imperfection
not consistent with that blessed estate : And
therefore all of them having obtained their
end, shall end, faith in sight, and hope in
possession, and fear in perfect safety ; and
everlasting love and delight shall fill the
whole soul in the vision of God.
VER. 18. Forasmuch as ye know that ye were not
redeemed with corruptible things, as silver and
gold, from your vain conversation received by
tradition from your fathers ;
VKB. 19. But with the precious blood of Christ,
as of a lamb without blemish and without spot.
IT is impossible for a Christian to give
himself to conform with the world's ungod-
liness, unless first, he forget who he is, and
by what means he attained to be what he is.
Therefore the apostle, persuading his breth-
ren to holiness, puts them in mind of this, as
the strongest incentive ; not only have you
the example of God set before you as your
Father, to beget in you the love of holiness.
Deing-your liveliest resemblance of him ; and
the Justice of God as your Judge, to argue
you into a pious fear of offending him :
But consider this, that he is your Redeemer,
le hath bought out your liberty from sin and
the world, to be altogether his ; and think
on the price laid down in this ransom ; and
these out of question will prevail with you.
We have here the evil dissuaded from,
viz. 1. A vain conversation. 2. The dis-
suasion itself. 1. It is called their vain co«~
versation. 2. Received by tradition from ,j
their fathers. By this I conceive is not j
only understood the superstitious and vain
devices in religion that abounded amongst
the Jews by tradition, of which our Saviour
often reproved them while he was conversant
among them, as we find in the gospel ; and
all this was meant, v. 14, by the lusts of their
"ormer ignorance ; but generally all the cor-
rupt and sinful customs of their lives : For
t seems not so pertinent to his purpose when
exhorting to holiness of life, to speak of their
superstitious traditions, as their other sinful
labitudes which are no less hereditary, and,
)y the power of example, traditional ; which
reason of their common root in man's
sinful nature, do so easily pass from parents
to children, nature making their example
)owerful, and the corruption of nature giving
t most power in that which is evil. And this
s the rather mentioned to take away the force
)f it, and cut off that influence which it might
have had in their minds. There is a kind
f conversation that the authority of your fa-
hers plead for; but remember, that it is that
ery thing from which you are delivered, and
VER. 18, 19.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
51
called to a new state and form of life, and
have a new pattern sst before you, instead of
that corrupt example.
It is one great error, not only in religion
and manners, but even in human science, that
men are ready to take things upon trust, un-
examined, from those that went before them,
partly out of easiness, and sparing the pains
of trial, partly out of a superstitious over es-
teem of their authority : But the chief rea-
son why corruptions in religion, and in the
practice of preceding ages, take so much with
posterity, is that before mentioned, the uni-
versal sympathy and agreement that those
evils have with the corrupt nature of man.
The Prophet Ezekiel observes this parti-
cularly in the Jews, chap. xx. ver. 24, That
their eyes were after their fathers' idols,
contrary to God's express forewarning, ver.
18. This was the great quarrel of the hea-
then against the Christian Rel'gion in the
primitive times, that it was new and un-
known to their fathers ; and the ancient
writers of those times are frequent in shewing
the vanity of this exception, particularly Lac-
tantius, Instit. Lib. ii. cap. 7, 8. The same
prejudice doth the church of Rome sing over
continually against the Reformed Religion,
Where was it before Luther ? &c. But this
is a foolish and unreasonable diversion from
the search of truth, because error is more at
hand ; or from the entertaining it, being
found, because falsehood is in possession.
As in religion, so in the course and practice
of men's lives, the stream of sin runs from
one age to another, and every age makes it
greater, adding somewhat to what it re-
ceives, as rivers grow in their course, by the
accession of brooks that fall into them ; and
every man, when he is born, falls like a drop
into this main current of corruption, and so
is carried down it, and this by reason of its
strength, and his own nature, which will-
ingly dissolves into it, and runs along with it.
In this is manifest the power of divine grace
in a man's conversion, that it severs him so
powerfully from the profane world, and gives
him strength to run contrary to the great
current of wickedness that is round about
him, in his parents possibly, and in his
kindred and friends, and in the most of men
that he meets withal. The voice of God,
that powerful word of effectual calling that
he speaks into the heart, makes a man break
through all, and leave all to follow God, as
Abraham did, being called out from his
kindred an:l father's house, to journey to-
wards the lind that God had promised him.
And this is that which was spoken to the
church, an-.l to each believing soul by the
Spirit of God, Forget also thine own people
and thy father's house, so shall the King
great/// delight in thy beauty, Psal. xlv. 10,
11. Regard not what others think, though
thy nearest friends, but study only to please
Him, and then thou shall please him in-
deed. Do not deform thy face with looking
out asquint to the custom of the world, but
look straight forward on Him, and so thou
shalt be beautiful in his eyes. When God
calls a man in a remarkable manner, his
profane friends are all in a tumult : What
needs this, to be more precise than we, and
all your neighbours ? but all this is a confus-
ed noise, that works nothing on the heart
that the Lord hath touched ; it must follow
Him, though by trampling upon friends and
kindred if they lie in the way. We see how
powerfully a word from Christ drew his
disciples to leave all and follow him.
This exhortation is against all sinful and
unholy conversation, by what authority and
example soever recommended to .us. The
apostle's reasons in those words are strong
and pressing ; there is one expressed in the
very name he gives it, it is vain conversation.
The mind of man, the guide and source
of his actions, while it is estranged from
God, is nothing but a forge of vanities ; the
apostle Paul speaks this of the Gentiles,
That they become vain in their imagina-
tions, and their foolish hearts were darken-
ed, Rom. i. 21, their great naturalists and
philosophers not excepted ; and the more
they strove to play the wise men, the more
they befooled themselves ; thus likewise
Eph. iv. 17. And thus the Lord complains
by his prophet of the extreme folly of his
people, Isa. xliv. 20, and by Jeremiah, that
their hearts are lodges of vain thoughts,
Jer. iv. 14 ; and these are the true causes of
a vain conversation.
The whole course of a man's life out of
Christ, is nothing but a continual trading in
vanity ; running a circle of toil and labour,
and reaping no profit at all. This is the
vanity of every natural man's conversation,
that not only others are not benefited by it,
but it is fruitless to himself; there arises to /
him no solid good out of it. That is most
truly vain that attains not its proper end :
Now all a man's endeavours aiming at his
satisfaction and contentment, that conversa-
tion that gives him nothing of that, but re-
moves him further from it, is justly called raw
conversation. What fruit had ye, says
the apostle, in those things whereof ye are
now ashamed? Rom. vi. 21. Either count
that shame, that at the best grows out of
them, their fruit, or confess they have none ;
therefore they are called the unfruitfu*
works of darkness, Eph. v. 11.
Let the voluptuous person say it out upon
his death-bed, what pleasure or profit doth
then abide with him ot all his former sinful
delights. Let him tell if there remain any
of them all, but that which he would gladly
not have to remain, the sting of an accusing
conscience, which is as lasting as the delig'u
of siii was short and vanishing. Let the
62
covetous and ambitious declare freely, even
those of them that have prospered most in
their pursuit of riches and honour, what ease
all their possessions or titles do then help
them to ; whether their pains are the less,
because their chests are full, or their houses
stately, or a multitude of friends and servants
waiting on them with hat and knee ; and if
all these things cannot ease the body, how
much less can they quiet the mind ? And
therefore is it not true, that all pains in these
things, and the uneven ways into which they
sometimes step aside to serve those ends,
and generally that all the ways of sin,
wherein they have wearied themselves, were
vain rollings, and tossings up and down, not
tending to a certain haven of peace and
happiness ? It is a lamentable thing to be
deluded a whole lifetime with a falss dream,
Isa. ii. 8.
You that are going on in the common
road of sin, although many, and possibly
your own parents, have trode it before you,
and the greatest part of those you now know
are in it with you, and keep you company in
it ; yet be persuaded to stop a little, and ask
yourselves, What is it you seek or expect in
the end of it ? Would it not grieve any
labouring man to work hard all the day,
and have no wages to look for at night ? It
is a greater loss to wear out our whole life,
and in the evening of our days to find no-
thing but anguish and vexation. Let us
then think this, that so much of our life as
is spent in the ways of sin, is all lost, fruit-
less, and vain conversation.
And in so far as the apostle says here,
You are redeemed from this conversation,
this imports it to be a servile slavish condi-
tion, as the other word expresses it to be
fruitless. And (this is the madness of a
sinner, that he fancies liberty in that which
is the basest thraldom, as those poor frantic
persons that are lying ragged, and bound in
chains, yet imagine that they are kings, that
their irons are chains of gold, their rags
robes, and their filthy lodge a palace As
it is misery to be liable to the sentence of
death, so it is slavery to be subject to the do-
minion of sin ; and he that is delivered from
the one, is likewise set free from the other.
There is one redemption for both. He that
is redeemed from destruction by the blood oi
Christ, is likewise redeemed from that vain
and unholy conversation that leads to it. So
Tit. ii. 14, our Redeemer was anointed for
this purpose, not to free the captives from
the sentence of death, and yet leave them
still in prison, but to proclaim liberty to
them, and the opening of the prison to them
that are bound, Isa. Ixi. 1.
You easily persuade yourselves that Christ
hath died for you, and redeemed you from
hell ; but you consider not, that if it be so
he hath likewise redeemed you from your v
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. i.
conversation, and hath set you free from the
service of sin. Certainly whils you find not
that, you can have no assurance of the other; if
the chains of sin continue still upon you, for
any thing you can know, these chains do
t)ind you over to the other chains of dark-
ness the apostle speaks of, 2 Pet. ii. 4. Let
us not delude ourselves ; if we find the love
of sin, and of the world, work stronger in our
hearts than the love of Christ, we are not as
yet partakers of his redemption.
But if we have indeed laid hold upon him
as our Redeemer, then we are redeemed from
the service of siij, not only from the grossest
profaneness, but even from all kinds of fruit-
less and vain conversation ; and therefore
ought to stand fast in that liberty, and not
to entangle ourselves again to any of our
former vanities, Gal. v. 1.
Not redeemed with corruptible things.]
From the high price of our redemption, the
apostle doth mainly enforce our esteem of
it, and urge the preservation of that liberty
so dearly bought, and the avoiding all that
unholiness, and vain conversation, from which
we are freed by that redemption. 1. He
expresseth it negatively, not with corrupti-
ble things, (Oh foolish we, that haunt them,
as if they were incorruptible and everlasting
treasures,) no, not the best of them, those
that are in highest account with men, not
with silver and gold, these are not of
any value at all towards the ransom of souls ;
they cannot buy off the death of the body,
nor purchase the continuance of temporal
life, much less can they reach to the worth
of spiritual and eternal life. The precious
soul could not be redeemed but by blood,
and by no blood but that of this spotless
Lamb Jesus Christ, who is God equal with
the Father : And therefore his blood is call-
ed, The blood of God, Acts xx. So that
the apostle may here well call it precious,
exceeding the whole world and all things in
it in value. Therefore frustrate not the suf-
ferings of Christ ; if he shed his blood to re-
deem you from sin, be not false to his end.
As of a Lamb without blemish.] He is
that great and everlasting sacrifice that gave
value and virtue to all the sacrifices under
the law ; their blood was of no worth to the
purging away of sin, but by relation to His
blood ; and the laws concerning the choice
of the paschal lamb, or other lambs for sacri.
fice, were but obscure and imperfect shadows
of his purity and perfections, who is the un.
defiled Lamb of God that taketh away the
sins of the world, John i. 29. A Lamb in
meekness and silence, he opened not his
mouth, Isa. liii. 7 ; and in purity here,
without spot or blemish. My well-beloved,
says the Spouse, is white and ruddy, Cant.
v. 10, white in spotless innocency, and reJ
in suffering a bloody death.
Forasmuch as ye know.\ It is that must
VER. 20.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
53
make all this effectual, the right knowledge
and due consideration of it : Ye do know it
already, but I would have you know it better,
more deeply and practically ; turn it often over,
be more in the study and meditation of it ;
there is work enough in it still for the most
discerning mind ; it is a mystery so deep,
that you shall never reach the bottom of it,
and withal so useful, that you shall always
find new profit by it : Our folly is, we gape
after new things, and -yet are in effect igno-
rant of the things we think we know best.
That learned apostle that knew so much,
artd spoke so many tongues, Yet I deter-
mined, says he, to know nothing among
you, save Jesus Christ and him crucified,
\ Cor. ii. 2. And again he expresses this
as the top of his ambition, that I may know
him, and the power of his resurrection,
and the fellowship of his sufferings, being
made conformable unto his death, Phil. iii.
10. That conformity is this only know-
ledge : He that hath his lusts unmortified,
and a heart unweaned from the world, though
he know all the history of the death and suf-
ferings of Jesus Christ, and can discourse
well of them, yet indeed he knows them not.
If you would increase much in holiness,
and be strong against the temptations to sin,
this is the only art of it ; view much, and so
seek to know much, of the death of Jesus
Christ. Consider often at how high a rate
we are redeemed from sin, and provide this
answer for all the enticements of sin and the
world : Except you can offer my soul some-
thing beyond that price that was given for it
on the cross, I cannot hearken to you. " Far
be it from me, (will a Christian say that
considers this redemption,) that ever I should
prefer a base lust, or any thing in this world,
cr it all, to Him that gave himself to death
for me, and paid my ransom with his blood :
His matcliless love hath freed me from the
miserable captivity of sin, and hath for ever
fastened me to the sweet yoke of his obe-
dience. Let him alone to dwell and rule
within me, and let him never go forth from
ir.y heart, who for my sake refused to come
down from the cross."
VER. 20. Who verily was fore-ordained before the
foundation of the world ; but was manifest in
these ast times for you.
OF all those considerations, and there are
many, that may move men to obedience, there
is none that persuades either more sweetly or
strongly than the sense of God's goodness
and mercy towards men ; and amongst al
the evidences of that, there is none like the
sending and giving of his Son for man's re-
demption : Therefore the apostle having
mentioned that, insists further in it ; and in
these words expresses, 1 . The purpose ; 2
The performance ; and 3. The application
of it.
1. The purpose or decree foreknown ; bu
t is well rendered fore-ordained, for this
mowing is decreeing, and there is little
either solid truth or profit in the distinguish-
"ng them.
We say usually, that where there is little
wisdom there is much chance ; and compa-
ratively among men, some are far more fore-
sighted and of further reach than others ;
pet the wisest and most provident men, both
wanting skill to design all things aright,
and power to act, as they contrive, meet with
many unexpected casualties, and frequent
disappointments in their undertakings. But
with God, where both wisdom and power are
infinite, there can be neither any chance, nor
resistance from without, nor any imperfection
at all in the contrivance of things within
himself, that can give cause to add, or abate,
or alter any thing in the frame of his pur-
poses. The model of the whole world, and of
all the course of time, was with him one and
the same from all eternity, and whatsoever
is brought to pass, is exactly answerable to
that pattern, for with him there is no change
nor shadow of turning, Jam. i. 17. There
is nothing dark to the Father of Lights ; he
sees at one view through all things, and all
ages, from the beginning of time to the end
of it, yea, from eternity to eternity. And
this incomprehensible wisdom is too wonder-
ful for us ; we do but childishly stammer when
we offer to speak of it.
It is no wonder that men beat their own
brains, and knock their heads one against
another, in the contest of their opinions, to
little purpose, in their several mouldings of
God's decree. Is not this to cut and square
God's thoughts to ours, and to examine his
sovereign purposes by the low principles of
human wisdom ? How much more learned
than all such knowledge is the apostle's ig-
norance, when he cries out, O ! the depth
of the riches, both of the wisdom and know-
ledge of God ! hoto unsearchable are his
judgments, and his ways past finding out,
Rom. xi. 33. Why then should any man
debate what place, in the series of God s de-
cree, is to be assigned to this purpose of send-
ing his Son in the flesh ? Let us rather,
seeing it is manifest that it was for the re-
demption of lost mankind, admire that same
love of God to mankind, that appears in that
purpose of our recovery by the Word made
flesh ; that before man had made himself
miserable, yea, before either he or the world
was made, this thought of boundless love
was in the bosom of God, to send his Son
forth from thence, to bring fallen man out o '
misery, and restore him to happiness ; and
to do this, not only by taking on his nature,
but the curse ; to shift it off from us that
were sunk under it, and to bear it himself,
and by bearing it, to take it away ; he laid
on him the iniquity of us all, and to this he
wns appointed, says the Apostle, Heb. iii. 2
A COMMENTARY UPON
54
Rffore the foundation of the world.}
This we understand by faith, that the world
was framed by the word of God, Heb. xi.
3. Although the learned probably think it
evincible by human reason, yet some of those
that have gloried most in that, and are re-
puted generally masters of reason, have not
seen it by that light. Therefore, that we
may have a divine belief of it, we must learn
it from the word of God, and be pursuaded
of its truth by the Spirit of God, that the
whole world, and all things in it, were drawn
out of nothing by His almighty power, who
is the only eternal and uncreated Being, and
therefore the fountain and source of being to
all things.
Foundation.] In this word is plainly in-
timated the resemblance of the world to a
building, and such a building it is, as doth
evidence the greatness of Him that framed
it, so^ppacious, rich, and comely ; so firm a
foundation, raised to so high and stately a
roof, and set with variety of stars, as with
jewels, therefore called, as some conceive it,
(Psal. viii.) the work of his fingers, to ex-
press the curious artifice that appears in
them. Though naturalists have attempted
to give the reason of the earth's stability
from its heaviness, which stays it necessarily
in the lowest part of the world, yet that
abates not our admiring the wisdom and
power of God, in laying its foundation so,
and establishing it ; for it is His will that
is the first cause of that its nature, and hath
appointed that its property of heaviness, to
fix it there ; and therefore Job alleges this
amongst the wonderful works of God, and
evidences of his power, that he hanged the
earth upon nothing, Job xxvi. 7-
Before there was time, or place, or any
creature, God, the blessed Trinity, was in
himself, and as the Prophet speaks, Isa. Ivii.
15, inhabiting eternity, completely happy
in himself : But intending to manifest am
communicate his goodness, he gave being t
the world, and to time with it ; made all to
set forth his goodness, and the most excel
lent of his creatures, to contemplate and en
joy it : But amongst all the works he intend
ed before time, and in time effected, this i
the master-piece that is here said to be fore
ordained, the manifesting of God in the flesh
for man's redemption ; and that by his So
Jesus Christ, as the first-born among mani
brethren, Rom. viii. 29 : That those ap
pointed for salvation should be rescued frorr
the common misery, and be made one mysti
cal body, whereof Christ is the head, and s<
entitled to that everlasting glory and happi
ness that he hath purchased for them.
This, I say, is the great work, wherein al
those glorious attributes shine jointly, th
Wisdom, and Power, and Goodness, ant
Justice, and Mercy of God. As in grea
maps, or pictures, you will see the border de
CHAP. T.
orated with meadows, and fountains, and
owers, &c. represented in it ; but in the
niddle you have the main design : Thus is
his fore-ordained redemption amongst the
works of God ; all his other works in the
world, all the beauty of the creatures, and
he succession of ages, and things that come
o pass in them, are but as the border to this
he main piece. But as a foolish unskilful
beholder, not discerning the excellency of
he principal piece in such maps or pictures,
gazes only on the fair border, and goes no
'urther : Thus do the greatest part of us :
-ur eyes are taken with the goodly show of
he world and appearance of earthly things ;
but as for this great work of God, Christ
fore-ordained, and in time sent for our re-
demption, though it most deserves our at-
entive regard, yet we do not view and con-
ider it as we ought.
2. We have the performance of that pur-
)OS3, Was manifested in the last times for
He was manifested, both by his in-
carnation, according to that word of the apos-
le St. Paul, manifested in the flesh, 1 Tim.
ii. 16, &c. and manifested by his marvel-
ous works and doctrine, by his sufferings
and death, resurrection and ascension, by the
sending down of the Holy Ghost according
,o his promise, and by the preaching of the
Gospel, in the fulness of time that God had
appointed, wherein all the prophecies that
foretold his coming, and all the types and
ceremonies that prefigured him, had their ac-
:omplishment.
The times of the gospel are often callad
the last times by the Prophets ; for that the
Jewish priesthood and ceremonies being
abolished, that which succeeded was appoint-
ed by God to remain the same to the end of
the world. Besides this, the time of our
Saviour's incarnation may be called the last
times, because, although it were not near the
end of time by many ages, yet in all proba-
bility it was much nearer the end of time
than the beginning of it. Some resemble
the time of his sufferings in the end of the
world, to the paschal lamb in the evening.
It was doubtless the fit time ; but not-
withstanding the schoolmen offered apt rea-
sons to prove the fitness of it, as their Lu-
mour is to prove all things, none dare I think
conclude, but if God had so appointed it, it
might have been either sooner or later ; and
our safest is to rest in that, that it was the fit
time, because so it pleased Him, and to seels
no other reason, why having promised the
Messiah so quickly after man's fall, he de-
ferred his coming about four thousand years,
and a great part of that time shut up the
knowledge of himself, and the true relig'on,
within the narrow compass of that one nation
of which Christ was to be born : Of these
and such like things we can give no other
reason but that which he teacheth us in a
ven. 21.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
like case, Even so, Father, because itseem-
eth good unto thee, Mat. xi. 26.
3. The application of this manifestation,
•For you.] The apostle represents these
things to those he writes to, particularly for
their use ; therefore he applies it to them,
but without prejudice of the believers that
went before, or of those that were to follow
in after ages. He that is here said to be
fore-appointed before the foundation of the
world, is therefore called, a Lamb slain from
the foundation of the world, Rev. xiii. 8.
And as the virtue of his death looks back-
ward to all preceding ages, whose faith and
sacrificed looked forward to it, so the same
death is of force and perpetual value to the
end of the world : After he had offered
one sacrifice for sins, says the apostle to the
Hebrews, chap. x. 12, 14, he sat down for
ever on the right hand of God ; for by one
offering he hath perfected for ever them
that are sanctified. The cross on which he
was extended points in the length of it to
heaven and earth, reconciling them together ;
and in the breadth of it to former and fol-
lowing ages, as being equally salvation to
both.
In. this appropriating and peculiar interest
in Jesus Christ lies our happiness, without
I which it avails not that he was ordained
from eternity, and in time manifested. It
is not the general contemplation, but the pe-
culiar possession of Christ, that gives both
solid comfort, and strong persuasion to obe-
dience and holiness, which is here the apos-
tle's particular scope.
VER. 21. Who by him do believe in God that raised
him up from the dead, and gave him glory, that
your faith and hope might be in God.
Now, because it is faith that gives the sou]
this particular title to Jesus Christ, the apos-
tle adds, (to declare who he meant by You)
Who by him do believe in God, Qc.
Where we have, 1. The complete object
of faith. 2. The ground or warrant of it —
The object, God in Christ. The ground
or warrant, In that he raised him up from
the dead, and gave him glory. -
1. The complete object of faith. A man
may have, living out of Christ, yea, he
must, he cannot choose but have, a convic-
tion within him that there is a God, and fur-
ther he may have, even out of Christ, some
kind of belief of those things that are spoken
concerning God ; but to repose on God, a:
his God, and his salvation, which is indeed
to believe in him, this cannot be, but where
Christ is the medium through which we look
upon God ; for so long as we look upon God
through our own guiltiness, we can see no-
thing but his wrath, and apprehend him as
an armed enemy ; and therefore are so far
from resting on him, as our happiness, that
ihe more we view it, it puts us upan the
more speed to fly from him, and to cry out,
Who can dwell with everlasting burnings,
and abide with a consuming fire ? Isa. xxxiii.
14. But our Saviour, taking sin out of the
way, puts himself betwixt our sins and God,
and so makes a wonderful change of our ap.
arehension of him. When you look through
a red glass, the whole heavens seem bloody,
ut through pure uncoloured glass, you re-
ceive the clear light, that is so refreshing and
:omfortable to behold. When sin unpar-
doned is betwixt, and we look on God
through that, we can perceive nothing but
anger and wrath in his countenance : But
make Christ the medium, our pure Redeemer,
and through him, as through clear transpa-
rent glass, the beams of God's favourable
countenance shine in upon the soul ; tha
Father cannot look upon his well-beloved
Son, but graciously and pleasingly. God
looks on us out of Christ, sees us rebels, and
fit to be condemned ; we look on God as
being just and powerful to punish us ; but
when Christ is betwixt, God looks on us in
him as justified, and we look on God in
him as pacified, and see the smiles of his
favourable countenance : Take Christ ou',
all is terrible ; interpose him, all is full of
peace : Therefore set him always betwixt,
and by him we shall believe in God.
2. The warrant and ground of believing
in God by Christ is this, that God raised
him from the dead, and gave him glory,
which evidence the full satisfaction of his
death ; and in all that work, both in his hu-
miliation and exaltation, standing in our
room, we may repute it as ours : If all is
paid that could be exacted of him, and there-
fore he set free from death, then are we ac-
quitted, and have nothing to pay ; if he was
raised from the dead, and exalted to glory,
then so shall we ; he hath taken possession
of that glory for us, and we may judge our-
selves possessed of it already, because he our
Head possesseth it. And this the last words
of the verse confirm to us, implying this to
be the very purpose and end for which God,
having given him to death, raised him up
and gave him glory ; it is for this end ex-
pressly, that our faith and hope might be in
God : The last end is. that we may have
life and glory through him ; the nearer end,
that in the mean while, till we attain them,
we may have firm belief and hope of them,
and rest on God as the giver of them, and so
in part enjoy them before-hand, and be up-
held in our joy and conflicts by* the comfort
of them. And, as St. Stephen in his vision,
Acts vii. 55, faith doth, in a spiritual way,
look through all the visible heavens, and see
Christ at the Father's right hand, and is
comforted by that in the greatest troubles,
though it were amidst a shower of stones, as
St. Stephen was. The comfort is no less
than this, that being by fiiith made one witU
A COMMENTARY UPON
56
Christ, his present glory wherein he sits at
the Father's right hand, is assurance to us,
that where he is we shall be also, John xiv. 3.
VKR. 22. Seeing ye have purified your souls in
obeying the truth through the Spirit, unto un-
feigned love of the brethren ; see that ye love
one anothei wi.h a pure heart fervently.
JESUS CHRIST is ma<b unto us of God,
wisdom, righteousness, sanctiftcation, and
redemption, 1 Cor. i. 30. It is a known
truth, and yet very needful to be often re-
presented to us, that redemption and holiness
are undivided companions ; yea, that we are
redeemed on purpose for this end, that we
should be holy. The pressing of this, we
see, is here the apostle's scope ; and hav-
ing by that reason enforced it in the general,
he now takes that as concluded and confess-
ed, and so makes use of it particularly to
exhort to the exercise of that main Christian
grace of brotherly love.
The obedience and holiness mentioned in
the foregoing verses, compiehend the whole
duties and frame of a Christian life towards
God and men; and having urged that in
the general, he specifies this grace of mutual
Christian love, as the great evidence of their
sincerity, and the truth of their love to God :
For men are subject to much hypocrisy this
way, and deceive themselves ; if they find
themselves diligent in religious exercises,
they scarce once ask their hearts, how they
stand affected this way, namely, in love to
their brethren. They can coftie constantly
to the church, and pray ; it may be, at home
too ; and yet cannot find in their hearts to
forgive an injury.
As forgiving injuries argues the truth of
piety, so it is that which makes all converse
both sweet and profitable, and besides, it
graces and commends men and their holy pro-
fession to such as are without, and strangers
to it, yea, even to their enemies.
Therefore it is, that our Saviour doth so
much recommend this to his disciples, and
they to others, as we see in all their epistles.
He gives it them as the very badge and
livery by which they should be known for his
followers : By this shall all men know that
ye are my disciples, if ye love one another,
John xiii. 35. And St. Paul is frequent in
exhorting to and extolling this grace, Rom.
xii. 10, and xiii. 8 ; 1 Cor. i. 13 ; Gal. v.
13 ; Eph. iv. 2, and in many other places.
Col. iii. 14, he calls it the bond of perfect.
ness, that grace which unites and binds al]
together. So doth our apostle here, and of-
ten in this and the other epistle ; and that
beloved disciple St. John, who leaned on our
Saviour's breast, drank deep of that spring of
love that was there, and therefore it streams
forth so abundantly in his writings ; they
contain nothing so much as this divine doc.
trine of love.
[CHAP. I.
We have here, 1. The due qualifications
of it : 2. A Christian's obligation to it.
1. The qualifications are three ; namely,
sincerity, purity, and fervency. The sin-
cerity is expressed in the former clause of the
verse, unfeigned love ; and repeated again in
the latter part, that it be with a pure heart ,•
and the purity is included in fervency.
1. Love must be unfeigned. It appears
;hat dissimulation is a disease that is very
.ncident in this particular. The apostle St.
Paul hath the same word, Rom. xii. 9, and
the apostle St. John to the same sense, 1
John iii. 18, that it have that double reality
which is opposed to double dissembled love ;
that it be cordial and effectual ; that the pro-
fessing of it arise from truth of affection, and,
as much as may be, be seconded with action ;
that both the heart and the hand may be ra-
ther the seal of it than the tongue : Not
court holy-water, an empty noise of service
and affection that fears nothing more than to
be put upon trial. Although thy brother
with whom thou conversest cannot, it may be,
see through thy false appearances, He that
commands this love, looks chiefly within,
seeks it there, and if he find it not there,
hates them most that most pretend it : So
that the art of dissembling, though never so
well studied, cannot pass in this King's court,
to whom all hearts are open and all desires
known. When, after variances, men aru
brought to an agreement, they are much sub-
ject to this, rather to cover their remaining
malice with superficial verbal forgiveness,
than to dislodge them, and free the heart of
them. This is a poor self-deceit ; as the
philosopher said to him, that being ashamed
that he was espied by him in a tavern in the
outer room, withdrew himself to the inner, —
he called after him, " That is not the way
out ; the more you go that way you will bs
the further within it." When hatreds upon
admonition are not thrown not, but retire in.
ward to hide themselves, they grow deeper
and stronger than before : and those con-
strained semblances of reconcilement are bu/
a false healing, do but skin the wound over,
and therefore it usually breaks forth worse
again.
How few are there that have truly malice-
less hearts, and find this entire upright
affection towards their brethren attending
them in their whole conversation, this lain o)
love deeply impressed on their hearts, and
from thence expressed in their words and
actions ! and that is unfeigned love, as real
to their brethren as to themselves.
2. It must be pure, from a pure heart ; j
this is not all om with the former, as some ]
take it. It is true, doubleness and hypocrisy j
is an impurity, and a great one ; but all im- j
purity is not doubleness ; one may really |
mean that friendship and affection he express- I
es, and yet it may be most contrary to thai I
VEU. 22.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
57
which is here required, because impure ; such
a. brotherly love as that of Simeon and Levi,
brethren in iniquity, as the expressing them
brethren, Gen. xlix. is taken to mean. When
hearts are cemented together by impurity it-
self, by ungodly conversation and society in
sin, as in uncleanness or drunkenness, &c.
this is a swinish fraternity and friendship,
that is contracted, as it were, by wallowing
in the same mire. Call it good fellowship,
or what you will, all the fruit that in the end
can be expected out of unholy friendliness
and fellowship in sinning together, is to be
tormented together, and to add each to the
torment of another. The mutual love of
Christians must be pure, arising from such
causes as are pure and spiritual, from the
sense of our Saviour's command and of his
example ; for he himself joins that with it,
A new commandment give I you, saith he,
that as I have loved you, so you also love
one another, John xiii. 34. They that are
indeed lovers of God arc united ; by that their
hearts meet in him as one centre. They
cannot but love one another : Where a god-
ly man sees his Father's image, he is forced
to love it ; he loves those he perceives godly,
BO as to delight in them, because that image
is in them ; and those that appear destitute
of it, he loves them so, as to wish them par-
takers of that image. And this is all for
God ; he loves amicum in Deo, et inimicum
propter Deum : That is, he loves a friend
in God, and an enemy for God. And as the
Christian's love is pure in its cause, so in its
effects and exercise ; his society and converse
with any, tends mainly to this, that he may
mutually hel^, and be helped, in the know-
ledge and love of God ; he desires most, that
he and his brethren may jointly mind their
journey heavenwards, and further one ano-
ther in their way to the full enjoyment of Gcd.
And this is truly the love of a pure heart,
that both begins and ends in God.
3. We must love fervently, not after a
cold indifferent manner. Let the love of your
brethren bi as a fire within you, consuming
that selfishness, that is so contrary to it, and
is so natural to men ; let it set your thoughts
on work to study how to do others good ; let
your love be an active love, intense within
you, and extending itself in doing good to the
souls and bodies of your brethren, as they
need, and you are able ; Allum re, alium
consilio, alium gratia, as Sen. de Ben;f. lib.
i. cap. 2.
It is self-love that contracts the heart, and
shuts out all other love, both of God and man,
save only so far as our own interest carries,
and that is still self-love : But the love of
God dilates the heart, purifies love, and ex-
tends it to all men, but after a special manner
directs it to those that are more peculiarly be-
loved of him ; and that is the particular love
here required
II. The Christian's obHgaeion to this
ove, intimated in the words, love of the bre-
thren. In this is implied our obligation to
it after a special manner, in loving those of
the household of faith, because they are our
jrethren. This concludes not only, as
Abraham said, that there ought to be no
strife, Gen. xiii. 8, but it binds most strong-
ly to this sincere, and pure, and fervent love ;
and therefore the apostle, in the next verse,
repeats expressly the doctrine of the mys-
terious new birth, and explains it more fully,
which he hath mentioned in the entrance of
the epistle, and again referred to, v. 14, 17.
There is in this fervent love, sympathy
with the griefs of our brethren, desire and
endeavour to help them, "bearing their infir-
mities, and recovering them too, if it may
be ; raising them when they fall, admonish-
ing and reproving them as is needful, some-
times sharply and yet still in love ; rejoic-
ing in their good, in their gifts and graces ;
so far from envying them, that we be glad
as if they were our own : There is the same
blood running in their veins : You have the
same Father, and the same Spirit within
you, and the same Jesus Christ, the Head
of that glorious fraternity, the first-born
among many brethren, Rom. viii. 29 ; of
whom the apostle saith, Eph. i. 10, that he
hath re-collected into one, all things in
heaven and in earth. The word is, ga-
thered them into one head ; and suits very
fitly to express our union in him. In whom,
says he in that same epistle, chap, iv^ 16,
the whole body is fitly compacted together :
and adds, that which agrees to our purpose,
that this body grows up and edifies itself
in love. All the members receive spirits
from the same Head, and are useful and
serviceable one to another, and to the whole
body. Thus these brethren, receiving of
the same Spirit from their head Christ, are
most strongly bent to the good one of ano-
ther. If there be but a thorn in the foot^
the back boweth, the head stoops down, the
eyes look, the hands reach to it, and endea-
vour its help and ease. In a word, all the
members partake of the good and evil one of
another. Now, by how much this body is
more spiritual and lively, so much the
stronger must the union and love of the parts
of it be each to the other. You are brethren
by the same new birth, and bom to the same
inheritance, and such an one as shall not be
an apple of strife amongst you, to beget de-
bates and contentions : No, it is enough
for all, and none shall prejudice another ;
but you shall have joy in the happiness on«
of another, seeing you shall then be perfect
in love : all harmony, no difference in judg-
ment or affection, all your harps tuned to
the same new song, which you shall sing fat
ever. L»t that love begin here, which shall
never end.
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CH4P. I.
And this same union, I conceive, is like-
wise expressed in the first words of the verse :
Seeing you are partakers of that work of
sanctification by the same word, and ^ the
same Spirit, that works it in all the faithful,
and by that, are called and incorporated into
that fraternity ; therefore live in it, and like
it. You are purified to it, therefore love
one another after that same manner purely.
Let the profane world scoff that name of
brethren, you will not be so foolish as to be
scorned out of it, being so honourable and
happy ; and the day is at hand wherein those
that scoff you, would give much more than
all that the best of them ever possessed in
the world, to be admitted into your number.
Seeing you have purified your souls in
obeying the truth through the Spirit.]
Here is, 1. The chief seat or subject of the
work of sanctification, the soul. 2. The
subordinate means, truth. 3. The nature
of it, obeying of truth. 4. The chief worker
of it, the Holy Spirit.
For theirs*, The chief seat of sanctifica-
tion, the soul : It is no doubt a work that
goes through the whole man, renews and
purifies all, Heb. x. 22 ; 2 Cor. vii. 1. But
because it purifies the soul, therefore it is
that it does purify all. There impurity be-
gins, Mat. xv. 18, not only evil thoughts,
but all evil actions, come forth from the
heart, which is there all one with the soul ;
and therefore this purifying begins there,
makes tJte tree good, that the fruit may be
good. It is not so much external perfor-
mances that make the difference between
men, as their inward temper. We meet
here in the same place, and all partake of the
same word and prayer : But how wide a
difference is there, in God's eye, betwixt an
unwashed profane heart, in the same exer-
cise, and a soul purified in some measure in
obeying the truth, and desirous to be fur-
ther purified by further obeying it !
Secondly, That which is the subordinate
means of this purity, is the truth, or the
word of God. It is truth, and pure in itself,
and begets truth and purity in the heart, by
teaching it concerning the holy and pure
nature of God, shewing it his holy will,
which is to us the rule of purity ; and by
representing Jesus Christ unto us as the
fountain of our purity and renovation, from
whose fulness we may receive grace for
grace, John i. 16.
Thirdly, The nature of this work ; that
wherein the very being of this purifying
consists, is, the receiving or obeying of this
truth. So Gal. iii. 1, where it is put for
right believing. The chief point of obe-
dience is believing : the proper obedience
to truth is, to give credit to it ; and this di-
vine belief doth necessarily bring the whole
soul into obedience and conformity to that
pure truth, which is in the word ; and so
the very purifying and renewing of the soul
is this obadience of faith, as unbelief is its
chief impurity and disobedience ; therefore,
Acts xv. 9, faith is said to purify the heart.
Fourthly, The chief worker of this sanc-
tification, is, the Holy Spirit of God. They
are here said to purify themselves ; for it
is certain and undeniable, that the soul it-
self doth act in believing or obeying the
truth ; but not of itself, it is not the first
principle of motion. They purify their souls,
but it is by the Spirit. They do it by his
enlivening power, and a purifying virtue re-
ceived from him. Faith or obeying the
truth works this purity : But the Holy
Ghost works that faith ; as in the forecited
place, God is said to purify their hearts by
faith, he doth that by giving them the Holy
Ghost, ver. 8. The truth is pure, and pu-
rifying, yet can it not of itself purify the
soul, but by the obeying or believing it ; and
the soul cannot obey or believe, but by the
Spirit, which works in it that faith, and by
that faith purifies it and works love in it.
The impurity and earthliness of men's minds
is the great cause of disunion and disaffec-
tion amongst them, and of all their strifes,
James iv. 1.
This Spirit is that fire that refines and
purifies the soul from the dross of earthly
desires that possess it, and sublimates it to
the love of God and of his saints, because
they are his, and are purified by the same
Spirit. It is the property of fire to draw
together things of the same kind ; the out-
ward fire of enmities and persecutions that is
kindled against the godly by the world, doth
somewhat, and if it were more considered
by them, would do more, in this knitting
their hearts closer one to another ; but it is
this inward pure and purifying fire of the
Holy Ghost that doth most powerfully unite
them.
The true reason why there is so little truth
of this Christian mutual love amongst those
that are called Christians, is, because there
is so little of this purifying obedience to the
truth, whence it flows ; faith unfeigned
would beget this love unfeigned : Men may
exhort to them both, but they require the
hand of God to work them in the heart.
VER. 23. Being born again, not of corruptible seed,
but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which
liveth and abideth for ever.
THE two things that make up the apostle's
exhortation, are the very sum of a Christian's
duty ; to walk as obedient children towards
God, and as loving brethren one towards
another : And that it may yet have the
deeper impression, he here represents to them
anew, that new birth he mentioned before,
by which they are the children of God, and
so brethren.
We shall first speak of this regeneration ;
YER. 23. J
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
50
And then of the seed. 1st, Of the regene-
ration itself: This is the great dignity of
believers, that they are the sons of God,
John i. 12, and the great evidence of the
love of God, that he hath bestowed this
dignity on them, 1 John iii. 1. For they
are no way needful to him ; he had from
eternity a Son perfectly like himself, the
character of his Person, Heb. i. 3, and
one Spirit proceeding from both ; and there
is no creation, neither the first nor the se-
cond, can add any thing to those, and their
happiness ; it is most true of that blessed
Trinity, Sails amphim alter alteri thea-
tntm siimus. But the gracious purpose of
God, to impart his goodness, appears in this,
that he hath made himself such a multitude
of sons, not only angels that are so called,
but man, a little lower than they in nature,
yet dignified with this name in his creation,
St. Luke iii. 38, Which was the son of
Adam, which was the son of God. He had
not only the impression of God's footsteps,
as they speak, which all the creatures have,
but his image ; and most of all in this is his
rich grace magnified, that sin having defaced
that image, and so degraded man from hi
honour, and divested him of that title ol
sonship, and stamped our polluted nature
with the marks of vileness and bondage,
yea, with the very image of Satan, rebellion,
and enmity against God ; that out of man-
kind thus ruined and degenerated, God
should raise to himself a new race and ge-
neration of sons.
For this design was the Word made flesh,
John i. 12, 13, 14. The Son was made
man, to make men the sons of God ; and it
is by him alone we are restored to this ; they
that receive him, receive with him, and in
him, this privilege, ver. 12 : And therefore
it is a sonship by adoption, and is so callec
in scripture, in difference from His eterna
f nd ineffable generation, who is and was the
only-begotten Son of God: Yet that we
may know that this divine adoption is not a
n ere outward relative name, as that of men,
the sonship of the saints is here, and often
elsewhere in scripture, expressed by new ge-
neration, and new birth. They are begot-
ten of God, John i. 13 ; 1 John ii. 29. A
i new being, a spiritual life, is communicatec
to them, they have in them of their Father's
Spirit, and this is derived to them through
C'hris-t, and therefore called his Spirit, Gal
iv. (>. They are not only accounted of the
family of God by adoption, but by this new
birth they are indeed his children, partakers
of the divine nature, as our apostle express-
i eth it.
Now, though it be easy to speak and hear
I the words of this doctrine, yet the truth it
i self that is in it, is so high and mysterious
1 that it is altogether impossible, without a
! portion of this new nature, to conceive of it
Corrupt nature cannot understand it. What
wonder that there is nothing of it in the sub-
ilest schools of philosophers, when a very
doctor in Israel mistook it grossly, John iii.
0. It is indeed a great mystery, and he
hat was the sublimest of all the Evangelists,
and therefore called the Divine, the soaring
:agle, as they compare him, he is more abun-
dant in this subject than the rest.
And the most profitable way of consider-
ng this regeneration and sonship, is cer-
ainly to follow the light of those holy writ-
ngs, and not to jangle in disputes about the
order and manner of it ; of which, though
somewhat may be profitably said, and safely,
namely, so much as the scripture speaks, yet
much that is spoken of it, and debated by
many, is but an useless expense of time and
lains. What those previous dispositions are,
and how far they go, and where is the mark
or point of difference betwixt them, and the
infusion of spiritual life, I conceive not easily
determinable.
If naturalists and physicians cannot agree
upon the order of formation of the parts of
the human body in the womb, how much
less can we be peremptory in the other ! If
there be so many wonders, as indeed there
are, in the natural structure and frame of
man, how much richer in wonders must this
divine and supernatural generation be ! See
how David speaks of the former, Ps. cxxxix.
14. Things spiritual being more refined
than material things, their workmanship must
be far more wonderful and curious. 'But
then it must be viewed with a spiritual eye.
There is an unspeakable lustre and beauty
of the new creature, but the mixture of all
divine graces, each setting off another, as so
many rich colours in embroidery ; but who
can trace that invisible hand that works it,
so as to determine of the order, and to say
which was first, which second, and so on,
whether faith, or repentance, and all graces,
&c. ? This is certain, that these and all
graces do inseparably make up the same
work, and are all in the new formation of
every soul that is born again.
If the ways of God's universal providence
be untraceable, then most of all the workings
of his grace are conducted in a secret unper-
ceivable way in this new birth : He gives
this spiritual being as the dew, which is si-
lently and insensibly formed, and this gene-
ration of the sons of God is compared to it
by the Psalmist, Ps. ex. 3. They have this
original from heaven as the dew, John iii. 3,
Except a man be born from above, he can-
not enter into the kingdom of God. And
it is the peculiar work of the Spirit of God,
as he himself speaks of the dew to Job,
(Job xxxviii. 28), Hath the rain a father,
or who hath begotten the drops of the dew ?
The sharpest wits are to seek in the know-
ledge and discovery of it, as Job spcaketh of
A COMMENTARY UPON
GO
a way that no fowl knoweth, and which the
vulture's eye hath not seen, Job xxviii. 7-
To contest much, how in this regenera-
tion He works upon the will, and renews it,
is to little purpose, provided this be granted,
that it is in his power to regenerate and re-
new a man at his pleasure : And how is it
possible not to grant this, unless we will run
into that error to think, that God hath made
a creature too hard for himself to rule, or
hath willingly exempted it ? And shall the
works of the Almighty, especially this work,
wherein most of all others he glories, fail in
his hand, and remain imperfect ? Shall there
be any abortive births whereof God is the
Father? Shall I bring to the b'rth, says
he, and not cause to bring forth ? Isa. Ixvi.
9. No ; no sinner so dead, but there is
[CHAP. I.
been always acknowledged to belong to God's
prerogative, Psalm cxxvii. 3, Lo, children
are an heritage of the Lord, and the fruit
of the womb is his reward ,- and so Jacob
answered wisely to his wife's foolish passion,
Am I in God's stead ? Gen. xxx. 2. How
much more is this new birth wholly depend-
ant on His hand !
But though this word cannot beget with,
out him, yet it is by this word that he be-
gets, and ordinarily not without it. It is
true that the substantial eternal Word is to
us, as we said, the spring of this new birth
and life, the head from whom the spirits of
this supernatural life flow ; but that by the
word here is meant the Gospel, the apostle
puts out of doubt, ver. 25, And this is the
word which by the Gospel is preached unto
virtue in His hand to revive out of the very you. Therefore thus is this word really the
stones. Though the most impenitent hearts |seed of this new birth, because it contains
are as stones within them, yet he can make and declares that other Word, the Son of
of them children to Abraham, Luke iii. 8. God, as our life. The word is spoken in
He can dig out the heart of stone, and put ( common, and so is the same to all hearers ;
a heart of flesh (Ezek. xxxvi. 26.) in its but then all hearts being naturally shut
place, otherwise he would not have made against it, God doth by his own hand open
such a promise, John i. 18, Not of flesh, some to receive it, and mixes it with faith,
nor of the will of man, but of God, If his and those it renews, and restoreth in them
sovereign will bt not a sufficient principle of -the image of God, draws the traces of it
this regeneration, why then says the apostle anew, and makes them the sons of God.
St. James, Of his own will begat he us ? My doctrine shall drop as the dew, says
and he adds the subordinate cause, by the Moses, Deut. xxxii. 2. The word as a
word of truth, James i. 18, which is here heavenly dew, not falling beside, but drop-
called the immortal seed of this new birth. ped into the heart by the hand of God's own
Therefore it is that the Lord hath ap- Spirit, makes it all become spiritual and hea-
pointed the continuance of the ministry of venly, and turns it into one of those drops of
this word, to this end, that his Church may dew that the children of God are compared
be still fruitful, bringing forth sons unto him; to, Psal. ex. 3, Thou hast the dew of thy
that the assemblies of his people may be like youth.
flocks of sheep coming up from the washing, , The natural estate of the soul is darkness,
none barren amongst them, Cant. iv. 2. 'and the word, as a divine light shining into
Though the ministers of this word, by 'it, transforms the soul into its own nature ;
reason of their employment in dispensing it, so that as the word is called light, so is the
have by the Scriptures the relation of parents 'soul that is renewed by it, Ye were darkness,
imparted to them, which is an exceeding lbut now are ye, not only enlightened, but
great dignity for them, as they are called co- •light in the Lord, Eph. v. 8. AU the evils
workers with God; and the same apostle j of the natural mind are often comprised un-
that writes so, calls the Galatians his little der the name of darkness and error, and there-
children, of whom he travailed in birth ' fore is the whole work of conversion likewise
again, till Christ were formed in them ; and signified by light and truth, He begat us by
the ministers of God have often very much \the ivord of truth, Jam. i. 18. So 2 Cor.
pain in th s travail,— yet the privilege of the iv. G, alluding to the first Fiat Lux, or Let
father of Spirits remains untouched; which \there be light, in the creation; the word
is effectually tc beget again these same spirits brought within the soul by the Spirit, lets it
creates, and to make that seed of see its own necessity and Christ's sufficiency,
convinceth it thoroughly, and causeth it to
cast over itself upon Him for life ; and this
is the very begetting of it again to eternal
the word fruitful, that way, where, and when
he will. The preacher of the word, be he
never so powerful, can cast this seed only
into the ear, his hand reaches no further ;
and the hearer, by his attention, may convey
it into his head ; but it is the Supreme
Father and Teacher above, that
carries it
life.
So that this efficacy of the word to prove
successful seed, doth not hang upon the dif-
ferent abilities of preachers, their having more
• . .v , , , " ; tciciii ituiiiiics 01 ureauiiers, uieir iiaviiiK inuro
mo the heart, the only soil wherein it proves | or less rhetoric or learning. It is true,
nay and fruitful. One man cannot reach eloquence hath a great advantage in civil and
the heart of another ; how should he th
new its fruitfiilness ? If natural births hare
eloquence hath a great advantage
moral things, to persuade, and to draw the
hearers bv the ears, almost which way it will
TEH. 23.]
THJE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
But in this spiritual work, to revive a soul,
to beget it anew, the influence of Heaven is
the main thing requisite ; there is no way
so common and plain, being warranted by
God in the delivery of saving truth, but the
Spirit of God can revive the soul by it ; and
the most skilful and authoritative way, yea,
being withal very spiritual, yet may effect no-
thing, because left alone to itself: One word
of Holy Scripture, or of truth conformable to
it, may be the principle of regeneration, to
him that hath heard multitudes of excellent
sermons, and hath often read the whole Bible,
and hath still continued unchanged. If the
Spirit of God preached that one, or any such
word to the soul, God so loved the world,
that he gave his only-begotten Son, that
whosoever should believe in him should not
perish, but have everlasting life, John iii.
15 ; it will be cast down by the fear of perish,
ing, and driven out of itself by that, and rais-
ed up and drawn to Jesus Christ by the hope
of everlasting life ; it will believe on him that
it may have life, and be inflamed with 'the
love of God, and give itself to Him that so
loved the world, as to give his only-begotten
Son to purchase us that everlasting life.
Thus may that word prove this immortal
seed, which, though very often read and heard
before, was but a dead letter. A drop of
those liquors that are called spirits, operates
more than large draughts of other waters ;
one word spoken by the Lord to the heart, is
all spirit, and doth that which whole streams
of man's eloquence could never effect.
In hearing of the word, men look usually
too much upon men, and forget from what
spring the word hath its power ; they ob-
serve too narrowly the different hands of the
sowers, and too little depend on His hand,
who is great Lord of both seed-time and
harvest : Be it sown by a weak hand, or a
stronger, thn immortal seed is still the same ;
yea, suppose the worst, that it be a foul hand
that sows it, that the preacher himself be not
so sanctified, and of so edifying a life as you
would wish, yet the seed itself being good,
contracts no defilement, and may be effectual
to regeneration in some, and strengthening
in others ; although he that is not renewed
by it himself, cannot have much hope of such
success, nor reap much comfort by it,
and usually doth not seek nor regard it
much ; but all instruments are alike in an
Almighty hand.
Hence learn, 1. That true conversion is
not so slight a work as we commonly account
it. It is not the outward change of some bad
customs which gains the name of a reformed
man in the ordinary dialect ; it is a new birth
and being, and elsewhere called a new crea-
tion. Though it be but a change in quali-
ties, yet it is such a one, and the qualities so
far distant from what they before were, that
it bears the name of the most substantial pro-
ductions ; from children of disobedience,
and that which is linked with it, heirs of
wrath, to be sons of God and heirs of glory :
They have a new spirit given, a free princely
noble spirit, as the word is, Psal. li. 10, and
this spirit acts in their life and actions.
2. Consider this dignity, and be kindled
with an ambition worthy of it. How doth a
Christian pity that poor vanity that men make
so much noise about of their kindred and ex-
traction ! This is worth glorying in indeed,
to be of the highest blood-royal, sons of the
King of kings, by this new birth, and in the
nearest relation to Him ; this adds match-
less honour to that birth which is so honour-
able in the esteem of the world.
But we all pretend to be of this number.
Would we not study to cozen ourselves, the
discovery whether we are, or not, would not
be so hard.
In many, their false confidence is too evi-
dent ; and there is no appearance of the Spirit
of God, not a footstep like his leading, and
of that character, As many as are led by the
Spirit of God, they are the children of God,
Rom. viii. 14 ; not a lineament of God's
visage ; as their Father, Jf ye know that he
is righteous, says St. John ii. 29, ye know
then that every one that doth righteousness
is born of him. And so, on the other hand,
how contrary to the most holy God, the lover
and fountain of holiness, are they that swin-
ishly love to wallow in the mire of unholi-
ness ! Is swearing and cursing the accent
of the regenerate, the children of God > No :
It is the language of hell. Do children de-
light to indignify and dishonour their father's
name ? No : Earthly-mindedness is a coun-
tersign. Shall the king's children, they that
were brought up in scarlet, as Jeremiah la-
ments, embrace the dunghill 9 Lam. iv. 5.
Princes, by their high birth and education,
have usually their hearts filled with far high-
er thoughts than mean persons ; the children
of the poorer sort being pinched that way,
their greatest thoughts, as they grow up, are
ordinarily how they shall shift to live, how
they shall get bread ; but princes think either
of conquest, or of governing of kingdoms.
Are you not born to a better inheritance, if
indeed born again ? why then do you vilify
yourselves ? why are you not more in prayer ?
There are no dumb children among those that
are born of God ; they have all that spirit of
prayer, by which they not only speak but
cry, Abba, Father.
2dly, We come to consider the seed of this
regeneration, the word of God. The most
part of us esteem the preaching of the word,
as a transient discourse, that amuses us for
an hour. We look for no more, and there-
fore we find no more. We receive it not as
the immortal seed of our regeneration, as the
ingrafted word that is able to save our. souls,
Jam. i. 21. Oh ! learn to reverence this
62
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. i.
holy and happy ordinance of God, this word
of life, and know that they that are not re-
generated, and so saved by it, shall be judg-
ed by it.
Not of corruptible seed.] It is a mam
cause of the unsuitable and unworthy beha-
viour of Christians, those that profess them-
selves such, that a great part of them either
do not know, or at least do not seriously and
frequently consider, what is indeed the
estate and quality of Christians, how excel-
lent and of what descent their new nature is ;
therefore they are often to be remembered of
this. Our apostle here doth so, and by it
binds on all his exhortations.
Of this new being we have here these two
things : 1. Its high original, from God,
begotten again of Ms word: 2. That which
so much commends good things, its dura-
tion ; and this follows of the other ; for if
the principle of this life be incorruptible, it-
self must be so too. The word of God is
not only a living and ever-abiding word in
itself ; but likewise in reference to this new
birth, and spiritual life, of a Christian : And
so that which is here spoken of is intended,
and it is therefore called not only an abiding
word, but incorruptible seed, which ex-
pressly relates to regeneration. And be-
cause we are most sensible of the good and
evil of things by comparison, the everlast-
ingness of the word, and that spiritual life
which it begets, is set off by the frailty and
shortness of natural life, and all the good
that concerns it. This he expresseth in the
words of Isaiah in the next verse.
VBR. 24. For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory
of man as the flower of grass. The grass wither-
eth, and the flower thereof falleth away.
IN expressing the vanity and frailty of the
natural life of man, it agrees very well with
the subject to call him flesh, giving to the
whole man the name of his corruptible part ;
both to make the wretched and perishing
condition of this life more sensible, and man
the more humble by it : For though by pro-
viding all for the flesh, and bestowing his
whole time in the endeavours which are of
the flesh's concernment, he remembers it too
much, and forgets his spiritual and immor-
tal part ; yet in that over eager care for the
flesh, in some sense, he seems to forget that he
is flesh, or at least that flesh is perishing ; be-
cause flesh extendeth his desires and projects
so far for the flesh as if it were immortal,
and should always abide to enjoy and use
these things ; as the philosopher said of his
countrymen, upbraiding at once their sur-
feitings and excess in feasting, and their
sumptuousness in building, « That they eat
as if they meant to die to-morrow, and yet
build as if they were never to die." Thus
in men's immoderate pursuits of earth they
seem both to forget that they are any thing
else beside flesh, and in this sense too to for.
get that they are flesh, that is, mortal and
perishing ; they neither rightly remember
their immortality nor their mortality. If
we consider what it is to be flesh, the nam-
ing of that were sufficient to the purpose.
All man is flesh. But is plainer thus, All
flesh is grass. Thus in the psalm, He re-
membered that they were but flesh ; that
speaks their frailty enough, but it is added,
to make the vanity of their estate the clearer,
a wind that passeth and cometh not again,
Psal. Ixxviii. 39. So Psal. ciii. 15, As for
man, his days are as grass : as a flower of
the field so he flourisheth. For the wind
passeth over it,, and it is gone ; and the
place thereof shall know it no more.
This natural life is compared, even by na-
tural men, to the vainest things, and scarce
find they things light enough to express it
vain ; and as it is here called grass, so they
compare the generations of men to the leaves
of trees. But the light of scripture doth
most discover this, and it is a lesson that re-
quires the Spirit of God to teach it aright.
Teach us, says Moses, Psal. xc. 12, so to
number our days, that we mat/ apply our
hearts unto wisdom ; and David, Psal.
xxxix. 4, Make me to know my life, how
frail I am. So Jam. iv. 14 ; and here it is
called grass. So Job xiv. 1, 2. Man that
is born of a woman is of few days, and
fnll of trouble. He cometh forth like a
flower, and is cut down.
Grass hath its roots in the earth, and is
fed by the moisture of it for a while ; but
besides that, it is under the hazard of such
weather as favours it not, or the scythe that
cuts it down ; give it all the forbearance
that may be, let it be free from both those,
yet how quickly will it wither of itself ! Set
aside those many accidents, the smallest of
which is able to destroy our natural life, the
diseases of our own bodies, and outward vio-
lences and casualties that cut down many
in their greenness, in the flower of their youth,
the utmost term is not long ; in the course
of nature it will wither. Our life is indeed
a lighted torch, either blown out by some
stroke, or some wind ; or if spared, yet with-
in a while it burns away, and will die out of
itself.
And all the glory of man.] That is ele-
gantly added. There is indeed a great deal
of seeming difference betwixt the outward
condition of life amongst men : shall the
rich, and honourable, and beautiful, and
healthful, go in together, under the same
name, with the baser and unhappier sort, the
poor wretched sort of the world, that seem (o
be bom for nothing but sufferings and mi-
series ? At least, hath the w ise no advan-
tage beyond fools ; is all grass ? Make you
no distinction ? No, all is yiass ; or if you
will have some other name, be it so, once
VER. 24.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
C3
this is true, that all flesh is grass : and if
that glory that shines so much in your eyes
must have a difference, then this is all it can
have, it is but the flower of that same grass,
somewhat above the common grass in gay-
ness, a little comelier, and better apparelled
than it, but partaker of its frail and fading
nature ; hath no privilege nor immunity that
way, yea, of the two the less durable, and
usually shorter lived ; at the best it decays
with it, the grass withereth, and the flower
thereof falleth away.
How easily and quickly hath the highest
splendour of a man's prosperity been blasted,
either by men's power, or by the immediate
hand of God ! The Spirit of the Lord
blows upon it, as Isaiah there says, and by
that, not only withers the grass, but the
flower fades, though never so fair ; when
thou correctest man for iniquity, 'thou
makest his beauty to consume like a moth,
Psal. xxxix. 11. How many have the ca-
sualties of fire, or war, or shipwreck, in one
day or night, or a small part of either, turn-
ed out of great riches into extreme poverty !
And the instances are not few, of those that
have on a sudden fallen from the top of ho-
nour into the foulest disgraces, not by de-
grees coming down the stair they went up,
but tumbled down headlong. And the most
vigorous beauty, and strength of body, how
doth a few days' sickness, or if it escape
that, a few years' time, blast that flower !
Yea, those higher advantages that have some-
what both of truer and more lasting beauty
in them, the endowments of wit, and learn-
ing, and eloquence, yea, and of moral good-
ness and virtue, yet they cannot rise above
this word, they are still in all their glory but
the flower of grass, their root is in the
earth. Natural ornaments are of some use
in this present life, but they reach no fur-
ther. When men have wasted their strength,
and endured the toil of study night and day,
it is but a small parcel of knowledge they
can attain to, and they are forced to lie
down in the dust, in the midst of their pur-
suit of it : That head that lodges most
sciences, shall within a while be disfurnish-
ed of them all ; and the tongue that speaks
most languages, silenced.
The great projects of kings and princes,
and they also themselves, come under this
same notion ; all the vast designs that are
framing in their heads fall to the ground in
a moment ; they return to their dust, and
in that day all their thoughts perish, Psal.
cxlvi. 4. Archimedes was killed in the
midst of his demonstration.
If they themselves did consider this in the
heat of their affairs, it would much allay the
swelling and loftiness of their minds ; and
if they that live upon their favour, would
consider it, they would not value it at so high
a rate, and buy it so dear as often they do.
Men of low degree are vanity, says the
Psalmist, Psal. Ixii. 9 ; but he adds, Men
of high degree are a lie. From base mean
persons we expect nothing, but the estate of
great persons promises fair, and often keeps
not ; therefore they are a lie, although they
can least endure that word.
They are in respect of mean persons as
the flower to the grass ; somewhat a fairer
lustre they have, but no more endurance, nor
exemption from decaying : Thus then it is an
universal and undeniable truth. It begins
with a Imri, and is as sure a conclusion as
the surest of these in their best demonstrations
which they call lii-n. And as particular
men, so whole states and kingdoms are
thus ; they have their budding, flourishing,
and withering ; and it is in both as with
flowers, when they are fullest spread, then
they are near their declining and withering :
and thus it is with all whole generations of
men upon earth, as Solomon says, One
goeth and another cometh, Eccl. i. 4, but
not a word of abiding at all. We in our
thoughts shut up death into a very narrow
compas , namely, in the moment of our ex-
piring ; but the truth is, as the moralist ob-
serves, it goes through all our life ; for we
are still losing, and spending it as we enjoy
it, yea, our very enjoying it, is the spending
it ; yesterday's life is dead to-day, and so
shall this day's life be to-morrow. We spend
our years, says Moses, as a tale, Psal. xc.
8, or as a thought, so swift and vanishing is
it. Each word helps a tale towards ies end,
and while it lasts it is generally vanity, and
when it is done it vanishes as a sound in
the air. What is become of all the pom-
pous solemnities of kings and princes, at
their births and marriages, coronations and
triumphs ? they are now as a dream ; as
Luke, Acts xxv. 23, calls all the pomp of
Agrippa, Bernice, and their train, fat-rat, i«,
a mere fancy.
Hence learn the folly and pride of man,
that can glory and please himself in the frail
and wretched being he hath here, that dotes
on this poor natural life, and cannot be per-
suaded to think on one higher and more
abiding. Although the course of times, and
his daily experience, tell him this truth,
that all flesh is grass ; yea, the Prophet
prefixes to these words a command of cry.
ing : they must be shouted aloud in our ears
ere we will hear them, and by the time the
sound of the cry is done, we have forgot it
again. Would we consider this in the midst
of those vanities that toss our light minds to
and fro, it would give us wiser thoughts, and
ballast our hearts ; make them more solid
and stedfast in those spiritual endeavours
which concern a durable condition, a being
that abides for ever ; in comparison of which,
the longest term of natural life is less than a
moment, and the hanniest estate of it but a
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP, i
heap of miseries. Were all of us more con-
stantly prosperous than any of us is, yet that
one thing were enough to cry down the price
we put upon this life, — that it continues not.
As he answered to one that had a mind to
flatter him in the midst of a pompous triumph,
by saying, What is wanting here ? Con-
tinuance, said he. It was wisely said at
any time, but wisest of all to have so sober
a thought in such a solemnity, in which
weak heads cannot escape either to be wholly
drunk, or somewhat giddy at least : Sure
we forget this, when we grow vain upon any
human glory or advantage ; the colour of it
pleaseth us, and we forget that it is but a
flower, and foolishly over-esteem it ; this is
that madness upon flowers, that is some-
where in request, where they will give as
much for one flower as would buy a good
dwelling-house. Is it not a most foolish
bargain to bestow continual pains and dili-
gence upon purchasing of great possessions
or honours, if we believe this, that the best
of them is no other but a short-lived flower,
and neglect the purchase of those glorious
mansions of eternity, a garland of such
flowers as wither not, an unfading crown,
that everlasting life and those everlasting
pleasures that are at the right hand of God ?
Now that life which shall never end must
begin here, it is the new spiritual life,
whereof the word of God is the immortal seed ;
and in opposition to corruptible seed, ant
the corruptible life of flesh, it is here said to
endure for ever. And for this end is the
frailty of natural life mentioned, that our af-
fections may be drawn off from it to this spi-
ritual life that is not subject unto death.
VKR. 25. But the word of the Lord endureth fo
ever ; and this is the word which by the gospel i
preached unto you.
THE word of God is so like himself, and
carries so plainly the image and impression
of his power and wisdom, that where thesi
are spoken of together, it is sometimes doubt
ful, whether the expressions are to be refer
red to himself, or to his word, so Heb. iv
12. and so here : But there is no hazard i:
referring them either way, seeing there i
truth in both, and pertinency too ; for the
that refer them to God affirm that they ar
intended for the extolling of his word, bein
the subject in hand, and that we may knov
it to be like him : But I rather think tha
here the apostle speaks of the word ; it
said to be quick or living (^v) in the for,.
cited text, as well as in the passage befor
us : And the phrase abiding for ever, i
expressly repeated of it here, in the Pro
phet's words. And, with respect to thos
learned men that apply them to God, I re
member not that this abiding for ever i
used to express God's eternity in himseL
Howsoever, this incorruptible seed is the li
ng and everlasting word of the living and
verlasting God, and is therefore such, be.
ause He, whose it is, is such.
Now, this is not to be taken in an abstract
ense of the word, only in its own nature,
ut as the principle of regeneration, the seed
f this new life ; because the word is en.
vening and living, therefore they with whom
t is effectual, and into whose hearts it is re-
eived, are begotten again, and made alive
y it, and because the word is incorruptible,
nd endureth for ever, therefore that life be-
£Ot by it is such too, cannot perish nor be
ut down, as the natural life ; no, this spiritual
ife of grace is the certain beginning of that
ternal life of glory, and shall issue in it,
ind therefore hath no end.
As the word of God in itself cannot be
Abolished, but surpasses the endurance of
leaven and earth, as our Saviour teaches ;
and all the attempts of men against the di-
vine truth of that word to undo it, are as vain
is if they should consult to pluck the sun
ut of the firmament ; so likewise in the
leart of a Christian, it is immortal and in-
:orruptible. Where it is once received by
aith, it cannot be obliterated again ; all the
>owers of darkness cannot destroy it, al-
though they be never so diligent in their at-
tempts that way : And this is the comfort
of the saints, that though the life which
God by his word hath breathed into theii
souls have many and strong enemies, such
as they themselves ' could never hold out
against, yet for his own glory and his pro-
mise sake, he will maintain that life, and
tiring it to its perfection : God will perfect
that which concerneth me, saith the Psal-
mist, Psal. cxxxviii. 8. It is grossly con-
trary to the truth of the Scriptures to ima-
gine, that they that are thus renewed can be
unborn again : This new birth is but once,
of one kind ; though they are subject to
frailties and weaknesses here, in this spiri-
tual life, yet not to death any more, nor t3
such way of sinning as would extinguish this
life. This is that which the apostle John
says, He that is born of God sinnelh not ;
and the reason he adds, is the same that is
here given, the permanence and incorrupti-
bleness of this word, the seed of God abid-
eth in him, 1 John iii. 9.
This is the word which by the gospel is
preached unto you.~\ It is not sufficient to
have these thoughts of the word of God in a
general way, and not to know what that word
is ; but we must be persuaded, that that
word which is preached to us, is this very
word of so excellent virtue, and of which these
high things are spoken, that it is incorrup-
tible and abideth for ever, and therefore
surpasses all the world, and all the excellen.
cies and glory of it. Although delivered by
weak men, the apostles, and by far weakei
than they in the constant ministry of it, yet
VKS. 1, 2.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
65
it loseth none of its own virtus ; for that
depends upon the first owner and author of
it, the ever-living God, who by it begets his
chosen unto life eternal.
This, therefore, is that which we should
learn thus to hear, and thus to receive, es-
teem, and love ; this holy, this living word ;
to despise all the glistening vanities of this
perishing life, all outward pomp, yea, all in-
ward worth, all wisdom and natural endow-
ments of mind, in comparison of the heaven-
ly light of the Gospel preached unto us :
Rather to hazard all than lose that, and
banish all other things from that place that
is due to it ; to lodge it alone in our hearts,
as our only treasure here, and the certain
pledge of that treasure of glory laid up for
us in heaven. To which blessed state may
God of his infinite mercy bring us. Amen.
CHAP. II.
VKB. 1. Wherefore, laying aside all malice, anil all
guile, and hypocrises, and envies, and all evil-
speakings,
VER. 2. As new-born babes, desire the sincere milk
of the word, that ye may grow thereby.
THE same power and goodness of God
that manifests itself in giving being to his
creatures, appears likewise in sustaining
and preserving them. To gtVe being is the
first, and to support it, is the continued
effect of that power and goodness. Thus it
is, both in the first creation, and in the se-
cond : In the first, the creatures to which
he gave life, he provided with convenient
nourishment to uphold that life, Gen. i. 11 :
So here, in the close of the former chapter,
we find the doctrine of the new birth and
life of a Christian ; and in the beginning oi
this, the proper food of that life ; and it is
the same word by which we there find it to
be begotten, that is here the nourishment ol
it ; and therefore Christians are here ex-
horted by the apostle so to esteem, and so to
use it: and that is the main scope of the
word.
Observe in general : The word, the prin-
ciple, and the support of our spiritual being,
is both the incorruptible seed and the incor-
ruptible food of that new life of grace, which
must therefore be an incorruptible life : And
this may convince us, that the ordinary
thoughts, even of us that hear this word, are
far below the true excellency and worth o1
it. The stream of custom and our profes-
sion, bring us hither, and we sit out our
hour, under the sound of this word ; but
how few consider and prize it, as the great
ordinance of God, for the salvation of souls,
the beginner and the sustainer of the divine
life of grace within us ; and certainly, unti'
we have these thoughts of it, and seek to
feel it thus ourselves, althoxigh we hear it
nost frequently and slip no occasion, yea,
lear it with attention and some present de-
.ight, yet still we miss the right use of it,
and turn it from its true end, while we take
'.t not as that ingrafted word which is able
to save our souls, Jam. i. 21.
Thus ought they that preach to speak it,
to endeavour their utmost to accommodate it
to this end ; that sinners may be converted,
begotten again, and believers nourished and
strengthened in their spiritual life ; to regard
no lower end, but aim steadily at that mark
Their hearts and tongues ought to be set on
Sre with holy zeal for God, and love to souls,
kindled by the Holy Ghost, that came down
on the apostles in the shape of fiery tongues.
And they that hear, should remember this
as the end of their hearing, that they may
receive spiritual life and strength by the
word : For though it seem a poor despicable
business, that a frail sinful man like your-
selves speak a few words in your hearing ;
yet look upon it as the way wherein God
communicates happiness to them that be-
lieve, and works that believing unto happi-
ness, alters the whole frame of the soul, and
makes a new creation, as it begets it again
to the inheritance of glory ; consider it thus,
which is its true notion, and then what can
be so precious ! Let the world disesteem it
as they will, know ye, that it is the power of
God unto salvation : The preaching of (he
cross is to them that perish, foolishness ;
but unto them that are saved, it is the
power of God, says the apostle, 1 Cor. i. 18.
And if you would have the experience of
this, if you would have life and growth by
it, you must look above the poor worthless
messenger, and call in his Almighty help,
who is the Lord of life. As the philosophers
affirm, that if the heavens should stand still,
there would be no generation nor flourish-
ing of any thing here below, it is the moving
and influence of the Spirit that makes the
Church fruitful. Happy would it be if you
would be persuaded to do this before you
come hither : Present the blindness of your
minds, and the deadness of your hearts to
God, and say, " Lord, here is an opportu-
nity for thee to shew the power of thy word.
I would find life and strength in it ; but
neither can I that hear, nor he that speaks,
make it thus unto me ; that is thy preroga
tive ; say thou the word, and it shall be
done." God said, Let there be light, ana
it iras light, Gen. i. 3.
In this exhortation to the due use of the
word, the apostle continues the resemblance
of that new birth he mentioned, chap. i.
As new lorn babes.} Be not satisfied with
yourselves till you find some evidence of this
new, this supernatural life. There be de
lights and comforts in this new life, in its
lowest condition, that would persuade us to
look after it if we knew them ; but as the
E
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP.
ineivt cannot be made sensible of thsss, con-
»ider therefore the end of it. Better never to
have been, than not to have been partaker of
this new being : Except a man be born
again, says our Saviour, he cannot enter
into the kingdom of God, John iii. 3.
Surely they that ars not born again, shall
one day wish that they had never been born.
What a poor wietched thing is the life that
we have here ! a very heap of follies and
miseries : Now, if we would share in a
happier being after it, that life that ends
not, it must begin here ; grace and glory is
one and the same life, only with this diffe-
rence, that the one is the beginning, and
the other the perfection of it ; or if we do
call them two several lives, yet the one is
the undoubted pledge of the other. It was
a strange word for a heathen to say, that
the day of death we fear so, ceterni natalis
est, is the birth-day of eternity. Thus it
is indeed, to those that are here born again ;
this new birth of grace, is the sure earnest
and pledge of that birth-day of glory. Why
do we not do then labour to make that certain
by the former ? Is it not a fearful thing to
spend our days in vanity, and then lie down
in darkness and sorrow for ever ; to disre-
gard the life of our soul, while we may and
should be provident for it, and then, when it
is going out, cry, Quo mine abibis ? Whi-
ther art thou going, O my soul ?
But this new life puts us out of the danger
and fear of that eternal death : We are
passed from death to life, says St. John,
(1 John iii. 14,) speaking of those that are
born again ; and being passed, there is no
repassing, no going back from this life to
death again.
This new birth is the same that St. John
calls the first resurrection, and pronounces
them blessed that partake of it : Blessed are
they that have part in the first resurrection,
the second death shall have no power over
them, Rev. xx. 6.
The weak beginnings of grace in com-
parison of further strength attainable even in
this life, are sometimes expressed as the in-
fancy of it ; and so believers ought not to
continue infants, and if they do, it is re-
provable in them, as we see Eph. iv. 14 •
1 Cor. ii. 2, xiv. 20, and Heb. v. 12!
Though the apostle writes to new converts,
and so may possibly imply the tenderness oi
their beginnings of grace, yet I conceive that
infancy is here taken in such a sense as
agrees to a Christian in the whole course and
best estate of his spiritual life here below ;
and so likewise the milk here recommended
is answerable to this sense of infancy, and
not to the former ; as it is in some of those
places cited, where it means the easiest and
first principles of religion, and so is opposed
to the higher mysteries of it, as to strong
meat; but here it signifies the whole word
of God, and all its wholesome and saving
truths, as the proper nourishment of the
children of God : And so the apostle's words
are a standing exhortation for all Chris-
tians, of all degrees.
And the whols estate and course of their
spiritual life here, is called their infancy,
not only as opposed to the corruption and
wickedness of the old man, but likewise as
signifying the weakness and imperfection of
it, at its best in this life, compared with the
perfection of the \ifs to corns ; for the weak-
est beginnings- of grace are by means so far
below the highest degree of it possible in
this life, as- that highest degree falls short oi'
the state of glory j so that, if one measure
of grace be called infancy in respect of an-
other, much more is aB grace infancy in re-
spect of glory. And sure as for duration,
the time of our present life is far less to
eternity than the time of our natural infancy
is to the rest of our lifa ; so that we may be
still called but new or lately born. Our
best pace and strongest walking in obedience
here, is but as the stepping of children when
they begin to go by hold, in comparison of
the perfect obedience in glory, when we shall
follow the Lamb wheresoever he goes, Rev.
xiv. 4. All our knowledge here is but as
the ignorance of infants, and all our expres-
sions of God, and of his praises, but as the
first stammerings of children, in comparison
of the knowledge we shall have of them
hereafter, when we shall know as we are
known, 1 Cor. xiii. 12, and of these praises
we shall then offer him, when that new song
shall be taught us. A child hath in it a rea-
sonable soul, and yet by the indisposedness of
the body, and abundance of moisture, it is
so bound up, that its difference from the
beasts, and partaking of a rational life, is
not so apparent as afterwards : and thus
the spiritual life that is from above infused
into a Christian, though it doth act and
work in some degree, yet it is so clogged
with natural corruption, still remaining in
him, that the excellency of it is much cloud-
ed and obscured ; but in the life to come, it
shall have nothing at all incumbering and
indisposing it. And this is the apostle
Paul's doctrine, 1 Cor. xiii. 9, 10, 11, 12.
And this is the wonder of divine grace,
that brings so small a beginning to that
height of perfection that we are not able to
conceive of ; that a little spark of true grace,
that is not only indiscernible to others, but
often to a Christian himself, yet should be
the beginning of that condition wherein he
shall shine brighter than the sun in the fir-
mament. The difference is great in our na
tural life ; in some persons especially, tha
they that in infancy were so feeble, and wrapt
up as others in swaddling-clothes, yet after-
wards came to excel in wisdom and in the
knowledge of sciences, or to be commanders
VEH. lj 2.J
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
07
of great armies, or to be kings : But the I there is nothing more recommended to them
distance is tar greater and more admirable
betwixt the weakness of these new born babes,
the small beginnings of grace, and our after
perfection, that fulness of knowledge that we
look for, and that crown of immortality that
ill they are born to that are born of God.
But as in the faces or actions of some
children, characters and presages of their
after greatness have appeared, as a singular
beauty in Moses' face, as they write of him,
and as Cyrus was made king among the shep-
herds' children with whom he was brought
up, &c. so also certainly in those children of
God, there be some characters and evidences
that they are born for Heaven by their new
birth. That holiness and meekness, that
patience and faith, that shine in the actions
and sufferings of the saints, are characters of
their Father's image, and show their high
original, and foretell their glory to come ;
such a glory as doth not only surpass the
world's thoughts, but the thoughts of the
children of God themselves, 1 John iii. 2.
. Now, that the children of God may grow
by the word of God, the apostle requires
these two things of them: 1. The inno-
cency of children ; 2. The appetite of chil-
dren. For this, as I conceive, is relative not
only to the desiring the milk of the word,
but to the former verse, the putting cff 'malice r
as the apostle Paul exhorts, 1 Cor. xiv. 20.
A s concerning malice, be ye children.
1st, The innocency of children is requir-
ed, Wherefore laying aside, &c. This
imports that we are naturally prepossessed
with these evils
to put them off.
and therefore are exhorted
Our hearts are by nature
110 other but cages of those unclean birds,
malice, envy, hypocrisy, &c. The apostle
sometimes names some of these evils, and
sometimes other of them ; but they are in-
separable, all one garment, and all compre-
hended under that one word, Eph. iv. 22,
the old man, which the apostle there exhorts
to put off': And here it is pressed as a ne-
cessary evidence of their new birth, and fur-
therance of their spiritual growth, that these
base habits be thrown away ; ragged filthy
habits, unbeseeming the children of God ;
they are the proper marks of an unrenewed
mind, the very characters of the children of
Satan, for they are his image. He hath his
names from enmity, and envy, and slander-
ing, and he is that grand hypocrite and de-
ceiver that can transform himself into an
angel of light, 2 Cor. xi. 14.
So, on the contrary, the Spirit of God
that dwells in his children is the Spirit of
meekness, and love, and truth. That dove-
like Spirit that descended on our Saviour, is
from him communicated to believers. It is
the grossest impudence to pretend to be
^Jhristians, and yet to entertain hatred and
by our Saviour's own doctrine, and more im-
pressed upon their hearts by his Spirit, than
love. Kvxla. may be taken generally, but I
conceive it is that which we particularly call
malice.
Malice and envy are but two branches
growing out of the same bitter root ; self-love
and evil-speakings are the fruit they bear.
Malice is properly the procuring or wishing
another's evil ; envy, the repining at his
good ; and these vent themselves by evil
speaking. This infernal fire within smokes,
and flashes out by the tongue, which St.
James says is set on fire of hell, iii. C, and
fires all about it ; censuring the actions of
those they hate or envy, aggravating their
failings, and detracting from their virtues,
taking all things by the left ear ; for, as
Epictetus says, Every thing hath two han-
dles. The art of taking things by the better
side, which charity always doth, would save
much of those janglings and heart-burnings
that so abound in the world. But folly and
perverseness possess the hearts of the most,
and therefore their discourses are usually the
vent of those ; for out of the abundance of
the heart the mouth must speak, Matth.
xii. 34. The unsavoury breaths of men
argue their inward corruption. Where shall
a man come, almost, into societies, but his
ears shall be beaten with the unpleasant noise
(sure it is so to a Christian mind) of one de-
tracting and disparaging another : And yet
this is extreme baseness, and the practice
only of false counterfeit goodness, to make
up our own esteem out of the ruins of the
good name of others ; real virtue neither
needs nor can endure that dishonest shift :
It can subsist of itself, and therefore in.
genuously commends and acknowledges what
good is in others, and loves to hear it ac-
knowledged ; and neither readily speaks nor
hears evil of any, but rather, where duty and
conscience require not discovery, casts a veil
upon men's failings to hide them : this is
the true temper of the children of God.
These evils of malice, and envy, and evil-
speakings, and such like, are not to be dis-
sembled by us in ourselves, and conveyed
under better appearances, but to be cast away ;
not to be covered, but put off; and therefore
that which is the upper garment and cloak
of all other evils, the apostle here commands
to cast off that too, namely, hypocrisy.
What avails it to wear this mask ? A
man may indeed in the sight of men act his
part handsomely under it, and pass so for a
time ; but know we not that there is an eye
that sees through it ; and a hand, that, it
we will not put off this mask, will pull it of?
to our shame either here in the sight of men,
or if we should escape all cur life, and go
fair off the stage under it, yet that there is
Ujvyings, upon whatsoever occasion; for la day appointed wherein all hypocrites shall
68
be unveiled, and appear what they are indeed
before men and angels ? It is a poor thing
to be approved and applauded by men, while
God condemns, to whose sentence all men
must stand or fall. Oh ! seek to be ap-
proved and justified by Him, and then who
shall condemn ? Rom. viii. 34. It is no
matter who do. How easily may we bear
the mistakes and dislikes of all the world, if
He declare himself well-pleased with us !
// is a small thing for me to be judged of
man, or man's day ; he that judgeth me is
the Lord, saith the apostle, 1 Cor. iv. 3, 4.
But these evils are here particularly to be
put off, as contrary to the right and profit-
able receiving of the word of God ; for this
part of the exhortation [laying aside} looks
to that which follows [desire}, and is espe-
cially so to be considered.
There is this double task in religion.
When a man enters to it, he is not only to
be taught true wisdom, but he is withal, yea,
first of all, to be untaught the errors and
wickedness that are deep-rooted in his mind,
which he hath not only learned by the cor-
rupt conversation of the world, but brought
the seeds of them into the world with him.
They do indeed improve and grow by the
favour of that example that is round about a
man ; but they are originally in our nature
as it is now ; they are connatural to us, be-
sides continual custom, which is another
nature. There is none comes to the school
of Christ suiting the philosopher's word, ut
tabula rasa, as blank paper, to receive his
doctrine ; but on the contrary, all scribbled
and blurred with such base habits as these,
malice, hypocrisy, envy, &c.
Therefore the first work is to raze out these,
to cleanse and purify the heart from these
blots, these foul characters, that it may re-
ceive the impression of the image of God.
And because it is the word of God that both
begins and advances this work, and perfects
the lineaments of that divine image on the
soul ; therefore to the receiving this word
aright, and this proper effect by it, the con-
forming of the soul to Jesus Christ, which
is the true growth of the spiritual life, this
is pre-required, That the hearts of them that
hear it be purged of these, and such like
impurities, malice, hypocrisy, &c.
These are so opposite to the profitable re-
ceiving of the word of God, that while they
possess and rule the soul, it cannot all em-
brace these divine truths ; while it is filled
•with such guests, there is no room to enter-
tain the word.
They cannot dwell together by reason of
their contrary nature, the word will not mix
with these. The saving mixture of the word
of God in the soul, is that the apostle speaks
of ; and he gives the want of it as the cause
of unprofitable hearing the word, Heb. iv. 2,
not mixing it with faith ; for by that the word
A COM3IENTARY UPON
[.CHAP. II.
is concocted into the nourishment of the lift
of grace, united to the soul, and mixed with
it, by being mixed with faith, as the apos-
tle's expression imports : That is the pro-
per mixture it requires, but with these
qualities here mentioned it wilt not mix ;
there is a natural antipathy between them,
as strong as in those things in nature that
cannot be brought by any means to agree and
mingle together.
Can there be any thing more contrary than
the good word of God, as the apostle calls it,
and those evil speakings ? than the word that
is of such excellent sweetness, and the bitter
words of a malignant tongue ? than the word
of life, and -words full of deadly poison $ for
so slanders and defamings of our brethren are.
And is not all malice and envy most oppo-
site to the word, that is the message of peace
and love ? How can the gall of malice and
this milk of the word agree ? Hypocrisy
and guile stand in direct opposition to the
name of this word that is called the word of
truth ; and here the very words shew this
contrariety, sincere milk and a double un-
sincere mind.
These two are necessary conditions of good
nourishment : 1st, That the food be good
and wholesome ; 2dly, That the inward con-
stitution of them that use it be so too. And
if this fail, the other profits not. This sin-
cere milk is the only proper nourishment of
spiritual life, and there is no defect nor un-
due quality in it ; but the greatest part of
hearers are inwardly unwholesome, diseased
with the evils here mentioned, and others of
the like nature ; and therefore, either have no
kind of appetite at all, but rather feed upon
such trash as suits with their distemper, as
some kind of diseases incline those that have
them to eat coals or lime, &c. ; or if they be
anywise desirous to hear the word, and seem
to feed on it, yet the noxious humours that
abound in them, make it altogether unprofita-
ble, and they are not nourished by it. As
this evil of malice and envying, so ordinary
among men, (and which is most strange,
among Christians,) like an overflowing of the
gall, possesses their whole minds ; so, they
not only fail of being nourished by the word
they hear, but are the worse for it, their dis-
ease is fed by it, as an unwholesome stomach
turns the best meat it receives into that bad
humour that abounds in it. Do not they
thus, that observe what the word says, that
they may be the better enabled to discover
the failings of others, and speak maliciously
and uncharitably of them, and vent themselves,
as is too common, This word met well ivith
such a one's fault, and this with another's ?
Is not this to feed these diseases of malice,
envy, and evil-spe-akings, with this pure
milk, and make them grow, instead of grow-
ing by it ourselves in grace and holiness ? .
Thus likewise the hypocrite turns all that
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
m
he hears of this word, not to the inward re-
novation of his mind, and redressing what
is amiss there, but only to the composing of
his outward carriage, and to enable him to
act his part better ; to be more cunning in
his own faculty, a more refined and expert
hypocrite ; not to grow more a Christian in-
deed, but more such in appearance only, and
in the opinion of others.
Therefore it is a very needful advertise-
ment, seeing these evils are so natural to men,
and so contrary to the nature of the word of
God, that they be purged out, to the end it
may be profitably received. A very like ex-
hortation to this hath the apostle St. James,
and some of the same words, but in another
metaphor, Jam. i. 21, Wherefore lay apart
allfilthiness and superfluity of naughtiness,
and receive with meekness the ingrafted
word. He compares the word to a plant of
excellent virtue, the very tree of life, the word
that is able to save your souls : But the only
soil wherein it will grow is a heart full of
meekness, a heart that is purged of those
uxuriant weeds that grow so rank in it by
lature ; they must be plucked up and thrown
out, to make place for this word.
And there is such a necessity of this, that
;he most approved teachers of wisdom, in a
luman way, have required this of their
scholars, that to the end their minds might
»e capable of it, they should be purified from
vice and wickedness ; for this reason the
)hilosopher judges young men unfit hearers
of moral philosophy, because of the abound-
ng and untamedness of their passions, grant-
ng, that if those were composed and ordered,
hey might be admitted : And it was So-
crates' custom, when any asked him a ques-
ion to be informed by him, before he would
answer them, he asked them concerning their
>wn qualities and course of life.
Now, if men require a calm and purified
disposition of mind to make it capable of
heir doctrine, how much more is it suitable
and necessary for learning the doctrine of God,
and those deep mysteries that his word opens
up ! It is well expressed in that apocryphal
Book of Wisdom, " That froward thoughts
separate from God, and wisdom enters not
nto a malicious soul :" No indeed, that is
a very unfit dwelling for it ; and even a hea-
then could say, " The mind that is impure is
not capable of God, and divine things,"
'Seneca). Therefore we see the strain of that
)ook of Proverbs that speaks so much of this
wisdom : it requires in the first chapter, that
they that would hear it, do retire themselves
Tom all ungodly customs and practices.
And indeed, how can that soul apprehend
spiritual things, that is not in some measure
refined from the love of sin, that abuses and
t>emires the minds of men, and makes them
inable to arise to heavenly thoughts ? Bless-
*d are the pure in heart, for they shall see
God, says our Saviour, (Mat. v. 8) ; not only
shall they see him perfectly hereafter, but, as
they can receive him, he will impart and make
himself known unto them here : so John xiv.
23, If any man love me, he will keep my
words : and my Father will love him, and
we will come unto him, and make our abode
with him. This is that which makes the
word obscure, namely, the filthy mists with-
in. Whereas, on the contrary, he will in just
judgment hide himself, and the saving truth
of his word, from those that entertain and
delight in sin : The very sins wherein they
delight shall obscure and darken the light of
the gospel to them, that though it shine clear
as the sun at noon-day, they shall be as those
that live in a dungeon, they shall not discern
it.
And as they receive no benefit by the word
that have these evils here mentioned reign-
ing and in full strength in them, so they that
are indeed bom again, the more they retain
of these, the less shall they find the influence
and profit of the word ; for this exhortation
concerns them. They may possibly, some of
them, have a great remainder of these corrup-
tions unmortified ; therefore are they exhort-
ed to lay aside entirely these evils, all malice,
all hypocrisy, &c. : else, though they hear
the word often, yet they will be in a spiritual
atrophy ; they will eat much, but grow no-
thing by it, they will find no increase of grace
and spiritual strength.
Would we know the main cause of our
fruitless hearing of the word, here it is ; men
bring not meek and guileless spirits to it,
not minds emptied and purified to receive it,
but stuffed with malice, and hypocrisy, and
pride, and other such evils : And where
should the word enter, when all is so taken
up ? And if it did enter, how should it
prosper amongst so many enemies, or at all
abide amongst them ? Either they will turn
it out again, or choke and kill the power of
it. We think religion and our own lusts,
and secret heart-idols, should agree toge-
ther, because we would have it so ; but this
is not possible ; therefore labour to entertain
the word of truth in the love of it, and lodge
the mystery of faith in a pure conscience, as
the apostle St. Paul speaks, 1 Tim. iii. 9.
Join those together with David, Psal. cxix.
113, / hate vain thoughts, but thy law do
I love. And as here our apostle, Lay aside
all malice, and hypocrisy, and envy, and
evil-speakings, and so receive the word, or
else look for no benefit by it here, nor for s;tl-
vation by it hereafter ; but be prevailed upon
to cast out all impurity, and give your whole
heart to it, so to desire it that you may grow,
and then as you desire you shall grow by it.
%dly, The apostle speaks of the appetite
of children, desire the sincere milk, &c.
Every real believer hath received a life from
heaven, far more excelling our natural life-
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. ii.
than that exce's the life of the beasts. And
this life hath ils own peculiar desires and
delights, that are the proper actings and
the certain characters and evidence of it :
Amongst others, this is one, and a main
one, answerable to the like desire in natural
life, namely, a desire of food ; and because
it is here still imperfect, therefore the natural
end of this, is not only nourishment but
growth, as it is here expressed.
The sincere milk of the word.] The life
of grace is the proper life of a reasonable
soul, and without it the soul is dead, as the
body is without the soul : So that this may
be truly rendered, reasonable milk, as some
read it, but certainly that reasonable milk
is the word of (rod, the milk of the word.
It was before called the immortal seed,
wnd here it is the milk, of those that are born
again : and thus it is very agreeable nourish-
ment to that spiritual life, according to their
saying, lisdem alimur ex quibtis constamus.
As the milk that infants draw from the
breast is most connatural food to them, being
of that same substance that nourished them
in the womb : so when they are brought
forth, that food follows them as it were for a
supply, in that way that is provided in na-
ture for it ; by certain veins it ascends into
the breasts, and is there fitted for tliem, anc1
they are by nature directed to find it there.
Thus, as a Christian begins to live by the
power of the word, he is by the nature o:
that spiritual life directed to that same wore
as its nourishment. To follow the resem.
blance any farther in the qualities of milk
after the monkish way, that runs itself out o:
breath in allegory, I conceive, is neither so-
lid nor profitable ; and to speak freely, thi
curious searching of the similitude in othe:
qualities of milk, seems to wrong the qualitj
here given it by the apostle, in which it i
so well resembled by milk, namely, the sim
pie pureness and sincerity of the word ; be
sides, the pressing of comparisons of thi
kind too far, proves often so constrained er
they have done with it, that by too mucl
drawing, they bring forth blood instead
milk.
Pure and unmixed, as milk drawn im
mediately from the breast ; the pure wor
of God without the mixture not only of er
ror, but of all other composition of vain un
profitable subtilties, or affected human elo
quence, such as become not the majesty an
gravity of God's word. Jf any man speak
says our apostle, let him speak as the ora
cles of God, 1 Pet. iv. 11. Light conceits
and flowers of rhetoric, wrong the word mor
than they can please the hearers ; the weed
among the corn make it look gay, but
were all the better they were not amongst i
.Nor can those mixtures be pleasing to an
but carnal minds. They that are indee
. liie children of God (as infants, who lik
eir breast-milk best pure) do love the WOK?
est so, and wheresoever they find it so, they
elish it well ; whereas natural men cannot
ve spiritual things for themselves, desire
ot the word for its own sweetness ; but
rould have it sauced with such conceits as
ossibly spoil the simplicity of it : or at the
est love to hear it for the wit and learning,
which, without any wrongful mixture of it,
icy find in one delivering it more than
nother ; but the natural and genuine ap-
etite of the children of God, is to the word,
or itself; and only as milk, sincere milk .-
Vnd where they find it so, from whomsoever,
r in what way soever delivered unto them,
hey feed upon it with delight : Before con-
ersion, wit or eloquence may draw a man to
he word, and possibly prove a happy bait
o catch him, as St. Augustine reports of
lis hearing St. Ambrose ; but when once he
s born again, then it is the milk itself he de-
ires, for itself.
Desire the sincere milk.] Not only hear
t because it is your custom, but desire it
)ecause it is your food : and it is, 1. A na-
ural desire, (as the infant's of milk,) not
ipon any external respect or inducement,
>ut from an inward principle, and bent of
nature ; and because natural, 2. earnest, not
a cold indifferent willing, that cares not whe-
;her it obtain or no, but a vehement desire,
as the word signifies, and the resemblance
clearly bears : As a child that will not be
stilled till it have the breast ; offer it what
will, silver, gold, or jewels, it regards
them not, these answer not its desire, and
that must be answered. Thus David, Psal.
cxix. 20, " My soul breaketh for the long-
ing it hath to thy judgments ;" as a child
like to break its heart with crying for want
of the breast. And, again, because it is na-
tural, it is, 3. constant : the infant is not
cloyed nor wearied with daily feeding on the
breast, but desires it every day, as if it had
never had it before ; thus the child of God
hath an unchangeable appetite for the word,
it is daily new to him, he finds still fresh
delight in it ; thus David, as before cited,
" My soul breaketh for the longing it hath
for thy judgments, at all times :" And
then Psal. i. this law was his meditation day
and night. Whereas, a natural man is
easily surfeited of it, and th? very common-
ness and cheapness of it makes it contemp-
tible to him. And this is our case ; that
wherein we should wonder at God's singular
goodness to us, and therefore prize his word
the more, even that very thing makes us de-
spise it : Whereas others, our brethren, have
bought this milk with their own blood, we
have it upon the easiest terms that can be
wished, only for the desiring, without the
hazard of bleeding for it, and scarce need we
to be at the pains of sweating for it.
That ice may grow thereby.] This is
. 1,2.]
THE FIRST KPISTLE OF PETER.
71
not only the end for which God hath provid-
ed his children with the word, and moves
them to desire it ; but which they are to in-
tend in their desire and use of it, and, an-
swerable to God's purpose, they are there-
fore to desire it, because it is proper for this
end, and that by it they may attain this end,
to grow thereby. And herein indeed these
children differ from infants, in the natural
life, that are directed to their food, beside
their knowledge, and without intention of its
"end ; but this rational milk is to be de-
sired by the children of God in a rational
way, knowing and intending its end, having
the use of natural reason renewed, and sanc-
tified by supernatural grace.
Now, the end of this desire is growth.
Desire the word, not that you may only hear
it ; that is to fall very far short of its true
end ; yea, it is to take the beginning cf the
work. for the end of it : The ear is indeed
the mouth of the mind, by which it receives
the word, as Elihu compares it, (Job xxxiv.
2 ;) but meat that goes no further than the
mouth, you know, cannot nourish. Neither
ought this desire of the word to be only to satis-
fy a custom ; it were an exceeding folly to make
so superficial a thing the end of so serious a
work. Again, to hear it only to stop the
mouth of conscience, that it may not cla-
mour more for the gross impiety of contemn-
ing it ; this is not to hear it out of desire,
but out of fear ; to desire it only for some
present pleasure and delight that a man may
find in it, is not the due use and end of it :
that there is delight in it, may help to com-
mend it to those that find it so, and so be a
mean to advance the end ; but the end it is
not. To seek no more nut a present delight,
that vanisheth with the sound of the words,
that die in the air, is not to desire the word
as meat, but as music, as God tells the pro-
phet Ezekiel of his people, Ezek. xxxiii.
32, And lo, thoii art unto them as a very
lovely song of one that hath a pleasant
voice, and can play well upon an instru-
ment ; for they hear thy words, but they
do them not. To desire the word for the
increase of knowledge, although this is ne-
cessary and commendable, and being rightly
qualified, is a part of spiritual accretion, yet
take it as going no further, it is not the true
end of the word ; nor the venting of that
knowledge in speech and frequent discourse
of the word, and the divine truths that are in
it ; which, where it is governed with Chris-
tian prudence, is not to be despised, but com-
mended : yet certainly the highest know-
ledge, and the most frequent and skilful
speaking of the word, severed from the
growth here mentioned, misses the true end
of the word. If any one's head or tongue
should grow apace, and all the rest stand at
a stay, it would certainly make him a mon-
ster ; and they are no other, that are know-
ing and discoursing Christians, and grow
daily in that, but not at all in holiness of
heart and life, which is the proper growth
of the children of God. Opposite to their
case is Epictetus' comparison of the sheep ;
they return not what they eat in grass, but
in wool. David, in that cxixth Psalm, that
is wholly spent upon this subject, the excel-
lency and use of the word of God, expresseth,
ver. 15, 16, 24, his delight in it, his earnest
desire to be farther taught, and to know
more of it ; his readiness to speak of it, ver.
13, 27 : But withal, you know he joins his
desire and care to keep it, to hide it in
his heart, &c. Psal. cxix. ver. 5, 11 : To
make it the man of his counsel, to be as
the whole assembly of his privy counsellors,
and to be ruled and guided by it; and with
him, to use it so, is indeed to grow by it.
If we know what this spiritual life is, and
wherein the nature of it consists, we may
easily know what is the growth of it. When
holiness increases, when the sanctifying
graces of the Spirit grow stronger in the
soul, and consequently act more strongly in
the life of a Christian, then he grows spiri.
tually.
And as the word is the mean of begetting
this spiritual life, so likewise of its increase.
1. If we consider the nature of the word
in general, that it is spiritual and divine,
treats of the highest things, and therefore
hath in it a fitnsss to elevate men's minds
from the earth, and to assimilate to itself such
as are often conversant with it, as all kind
of doctrine readily doth to those that are
much in it, and apply their minds to study
it. Doubtless such kind of things as are
frequent with men, have an influence upon
the dispositions of their souls. The gospel
is called light, and the children of God are
likewise called light, as being transformed
into its nature, and this they are still the
more, by more hearing of it, and so they
grow.
2. If we look more particularly into the
strain and tenor of the word, it is most fit
for increasing the graces of the Spirit in a
Christian ; for there be in it particular truths
relative to them, that are apt to excite them,
and set them on work, and so to make them
grow, as all habits do, by acting : it doth
(as the apostle's word may be translated)
stir up the sparks, and blow them into a
greater flame, make them burn clearer and
hotter. Tliis it doth both by particular ex-
hortation to the study and exercise of those
graces, sometimes pressing one, and some-
times another ; and by right representing to
them their objects. The word feeds faith,
by setting before it the free grace of God, his
rich promises, and his power and truth to
perform them all ; shewing it the strength of
the new covenant, not depending upon it.
but holding in Christ, in whom all the pro.
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP, ii
mises of God ai2 Yea and Amen ; and
drawing faith still to lest more entirely up-
on His righteousness. It feeds repentance,
by making the vileness and deformity of sin
daily more clear and visible ; still as more of
the word hath admission into the soul, the
more it hates sin, sin being the more dis-
covered and the better known in its own na-
tive colour : As the more light is in a
house, the more any thing in it that is un-
cleanly or deformed is seen and disliked.
Likewise it increaseth love to God, by open-
ingup still more and more of his infinite excel-
lency and loveliness : And as it borrows the
resemblance of the vilest things in nature to
express the foulness and hatefulness of sin ;
so all the beauty and dignities that are in all
the creatures, are called together in the word,
to give us some small scantling of that un-
created beauty, that alone deserves to be
loved. Thus might instances be given in
all other graces.
But above all other considerations, in this
it is observable, that the word is the increaser
of grace, in that it holds forth Jesus Christ
to our view to look upon, not only as the
perfect pattern, but as the full fountain, of
all grace, from whose fulness we all receive.
The contemplating of him as the perfect
image of God, and then drawing from him as
having in himself a treasure for us, these give
the soul more of that image, which is truly
spiritual growth. This the apostle ex-
presseth excellently, 2 Cor. iii. ult. speaking
of the ministry of the gospel, revealing
Christ, that beholding in him, (as it is chap,
iv. ver. 6, in his face,) the glory of the
Lord, we are changed into the same image,
from glory to glory, as by the Spirit of the
Lord. Not only that we may take the copy
of his graces, but have a share of them.
There be many things might be said of
this spiritual growth, but I will only add a
few. 1 . In the judging of this growth, some
conclude too rigidly against themselves, that
they grow not by the word, because their
growth is not sensible to them as they de-
sire.
But, 1. This is known in all things that
grow, that growth is not discerned an motu,
sed in termino, not in the growing, but when
they are grown. 2. Besides, other things
are to be considered in this ; although other
graces seem not to advance, yet if thou grow-
est more self-denying andhumble, in the sense
of thy slowness, all is not lost ; although the
branches shoot not up so fast as thou wishest,
yet if the root grow deeper, and fasten more!
it is an useful growth ; he that is still learn-
ing to be more in Jesus Christ, and less in
himself, to have all his dependence and com-
fort in Hinj, is doubtless a growing believer.
2. On the other side, a far greater number
conclude wrong in their own favour, imagin-
ing that they do grow, if they gain in some
of those things we mentioned above, namely,
more knowledge and more faculty of dis-
coursing ; if they find often some present
stirrings of joy or sorrow in hearing of the
word ; if they reform their life, grow more
civil and blameless, &c. Yet all these and
many such things may be in a natural man,
who notwithstanding grows not, for that is
impossible ; he is not in that state a subject
capable of this growth ; for he is dead, he
hath none of this new life to which this
growth relates. Herod heard gladly, and
obeyed many things, Mark vi. 20.
Consider, then, what true delight ws
might have in this. You find a pleasure,
when you see your children grow, when they
begin to stand and walk, &c. ; you love well
to perceive your estate or your honour grow :
but for the soul to be growing liker God, and
nearer heaven, if we know it, is a pleasure
far beyond them all : To find pride, earthli-
ness, and vanity abating, and faith, love, and
spiritual-mindedness increasing ; especially
if we reflect, that this growth is not as our
natural life, that is often cut off before it
attain full age, as we call it ; and if it attain
that, falls again to move downwards and
decays, as the sun, being at its meridian,
begins to decline again : But this life shall
grow on in whomsoever it is, and come cer-
tainly to its fulness ; after which there is no
more need of this word, either for growth or
nourishment ; no death, no decay, no old
age ; but perpetual youth, and a perpetual
spring, ver ceternum ; fulness of joy in the
presence of God, and everlasting pleasures
at his right hand, Psal. xvi. ult.
VER. 3. If so be ye have tasted that the Lord is
gracious.
OUR natural desire of food arises prin-
of cipally from its necessity for that end
which nature seeks, the growth, or at least
the nourishment, of our bodies ; but besides,
there is a present sweetness and pleasantness
in the use of it, that serves to sharpen our
desire, and is placed in nature for that pur-
pose : Thus the children of God, in their
spiritual life, are naturally carried to desire
the means of their nourishment, and of their
growth, being always here in a growing
state ; but withal, there is a spiritual de-
light and sweetness in that word, in that
which it reveals concerning God, and thai
adds to their desire, stirs up their appetite
towards it : the former is in the foregoing
verse, the latter in this. Nature addresses
the infant to the breast, but when it hath
once tasted of it, that is a new superadded
attractive, and makes it desire after it the
more earnestly. So here,
The word is fully recommended to us by
these two, usefulness and pleasantness, like
milk (as it is compared here,) which is a
nourishing food, and withal sweet and dc-
VER, H.j
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
73
lightful to the taste ; by it we grow, and in
it w-e taste the graciousness of God. David,
in that Psalm that he dedicates wholly to
this subject, gives both these as the reason
of his appetite ; his love to it he expresses
pathetically, Psal. cxix. 97, O how love I
thy law ! and then he adds, that by it he
was made toiser than his enemies, than his
teachers, and than the ancients ; taught to
refrain from every evil way, taught by the
Author of that word, the Lord himself:
Thou hast taught me to grow wiser and
warier, and holier in thy ways ; and then,
ver. 103, he adds this other reason, How
tweet are thy words unto my taste ; yea,
tweeter than honey to my mouth !
We shall speak, 1. Of the goodness or
graciousness of the Lord ; 2. Of this taste ;
and 3. Of the inference from both.
1. We may consider the goodness of God.
He is said to be gracious, or of a boun-
tiful, kind disposition. The word, Psal.
xxxiv. 8, whence this is taken, is tob, which
signifies good. The Greek translators there
render it by the word used here by our
apostle. Both the words signify a benig-
nity and kindness of nature ; it is one of
love's attributes, 1 Cor. xiii. 4, %ovir<rivi
it is kind, ever compassionate, and ready, as
it can, to be helpful in straits and distresses,
to forget and pass by evil, and to do good ;
and in the largest and most comprehensive
sense must we take it here, and yet still
speak and think infinitely below what His
goodness is. He is naturally good, yea,
goodness is his nature ; he is goodness and
love itself: He that loveth not, knoweth
not God ; for God is love, 1 John iv. 8.
Primitively good, all goodness is derived
from him, and all that is in the creature
comes forth from no other but that ocean ;
and this graciousness is still larger than
them all.
'T'here is a common bounty of God,
wherein he doth good to all, and so the whole
earth is fvll of his goodness, Psal. xxxiii.
5. But the goodness that the Gospel is full
of, the particular stream that runs in that
channel, is his peculiar graciousness and love
to his own children ; that by which they are
first enlivened, and then refreshed and sus-
tained, in their spiritual being. It is this
that is here spoken of; he is gracious to
them in freely forgiving their sins, and
giving no less than Himself unto them ; he
frees them from all evils, and fills them
with all good, Psal. ciii. 3, 4, 5, He satis-
fies thy mouth, and so it follows with good
reason, ver. 8, that he is merciful and
gracious ; and his graciousness is there fur-
ther expressed in his gentleness, and slow-
ness to anger, bearing with- the frailties of
his people, and pitying them as a father
pitieth his children, ver. 8, 13, 14.
No friend is so kind and friendly as this
word signifies,) and none so powerful ; a
present help in trouble, ready to be found ;
whereas others may be far off, He is always
at hand, and his presence is always com-
fortable.
They that know God, still find him a real
useful good. Some things and persons are
useful at one time, and others at another, but
God at all times. A well-furnished table
may please a man, while he hath health and
appetite ; but offer it to him in the height of
a fever, how unpleasant it would be then !
Though never so richly decked, it is then
not only useless, but hateful to him : But
the kindness and love of God is then as sea-
sonable and refreshing to him as in health,
and possibly more ; he can find sweetness in
that, even on his sick-bed. The bitter
choler abounding in the mouth, in a fever,
doth not disrelish His sweetness ; it trans-
cends and goes above it. Thus all earthly
enjoyments have but some time (as meats),
when they are in season ; but the gracious-
ness of God is always sweet, the taste of that
is never out of season. See how old age
spoils the relish of outward delights, in the
example of Barzillai, 2 Sam. xix. 35. But
it makes not this distasteful ; therefore the
Psalmist prays, that when other comforts
forsake him, and wear out, when they ebb
from him, and leave him on the sand, this
may not ; that still he may feed on the good-
ness of God, Psal. Ixxi. 9, Cast me not
off in old age, forsake me not when my
strength faileth. It is the continual influ-
ence of his graciousness that makes them
still grow like cedars in Lebanon ; Psal.
xcii. 14, 15, To bring forth fruit in old
age, to be still fat and flourishing, to shew
that the Lord is upright, as is there added ;
that he is, as the word imports, still like
himself, and his goodness ever the same.
Full chests, or large possessions, may
seem sweet to a man, till death presents it-
self; but then, as the prophet speaks of
throwing away their idols of silcer and
gold to the bats and moles, in the day of
calamity, Isa. ii. 20,t hen he is forced
to throw all he possesses away with dis-
dain of it, and his former folly in doting on
it ; then the kindness of friends and wife
and children, can do nothing but increase
his grief and their own : But then indeed is
the love of God the good and abiding sweet-
ness : And it best relisheth when all other
things are most unsavoury and uncomfortable.
God is gracious, but it is God in Christ,
otherwise we cannot find him so ; therefore
this is here spoken in particular of Jesus
Christ (as it appears by that which follow-
eth) through whom all the peculiar kindness
and love of God is conveyed to the soul,
and can come no other way ; and the word
here mentioned is the gospel, chap. i. ver.
ult whereof Christ is the subject. Though
A COMMENTARY UPON
God is merry ami goodness in himself, yet
we cannot find nor apprehend him so to us
but only looking through that medium, the
Mediator.
That main point of the goodness of God
in the gospel, that is so sweet to a humbled
sinner, the forgiveness of sins, we know we
cannot taste of, but in Christ, Eph. i. 7, In
whom we have redemption. And all the
favour that shines on us, all the grace we
receive is of His fulness ; all our acceptance
with God, taking into grace and kindness
again, is in him, ver. 6, He made us ac-
cepted in the Beloved. His grace appears
in both, as it is tnere expressed, but it is all
in Christ. Let us therefore never leave Him
out in our desires of tasting the graciousness
and love of God : For otherwise, we shall
but dishonour Him, and disappoint our-
selves.
The free grace of God was given to be
tasted in the promises before the coming of
Christ in the flesh ; but being accomplished
in his coming, then was the sweetness of
grace made more sensible ; then was it more
fully broached, and let out to the elect
world, when he was pierced on the cross,
and his blood poured out for our redemp-
tion. Through those holes of his wounds
may we draw, and taste that the Lord is
gracious, says St. Augustine.
. 2. We may consider the relish of the
goodness of the Lord, expressed by the word
taste. There is a tasting of temporary be-
lievers spoke of, Heb. vi. 4. Their highest
sense of spiritual things, (and it will be in
some far higher than we easily think), yet is
but a taste, and is called so in comparison
of the truer, fuller sense that true believers
have of the grace and goodness of God,
which, compared with temporary taste, is
more than tasting. The former is tasting,
rather an imaginary taste than real ; but this
is a true feeding on the graciousness of God,
yet called but a taste in respect of the ful-
ness to come ; though it is more than a
taste, as you distinguish it from the hypo-
crite's sense, yet it is no more but a taste,
compared with the great marriage-feast we
look for.
Jesus Christ being all in all unto the
soul, Faith apprehending him, is all the
spiritual senses : it is the eye that beholds
his matchless beauty, and so kindles love in
the soul, and can speak of him as having
seen him, and taken particular notice of
him, Cant. v. 10. It is the ear that dis-
cerns his voice, Cant. ii. 8. It is faith that
smells his name poured forth as ointment,
faith that touches him, and draws virtue
from him, and faith that tastes him, Cant.
iu 3, and here, If ye have tasted, &c.
There must be, 1. A firm believing the
truth of the promises, wherein the free grace
of God is expressed and exhibited to us. 2.
A particular application or attraction of that
grace to ourselves, which is as the drawing
those breasts of consolation, Isa. Ixvi. 11,
namely, the promises contained in the Old
and New Testament. 3. There is a sense of
the. sweetness of that grace, being applied or
drawn into the soul, and that is properly this
taste. No unrenewed man hath any of these
in truth, not the highest kind of temporary
believer ; he cannot have so much as a real
lively assent to the general truth of the pro-
mises ; for had he that, the rest would fol-
low ; but as he cannot have the least of these
in truth, he may have the counterfeit of
them all, not only of assent but application,
yea, and a false spiritual joy arising on it ;
and all these so drawn to the life, that they
may resemble much the truth of them : And
to give clear characters of difference, is not
so easy as most imagine ; but doubtless the
true living faith of a Christian hath in it-
self such a particular stamp, as brings with
it its own evidence, when the soul is clear,
and the light of God's face shines upon it :
Indeed, in the dark, we cannot read, nor
distinguish one mark from another ; but
when a Christian hath light, to look upon
the work of God in his own soul, although
he cannot make another sensible of that by
which he knows it, yet he himself is ascer-
tained, and can say confidently in himself,
This I know, that this faith and taste of
God I have, is true ; the seal of the Spirit
of God is upon it ; and this is the reading
of that new name in the white stone, that
no man knows but he that hath it, Rev. ii.
17. There is in a true believer such a con-
stant love to God, for himself, and conti-
nual desire after him, simply for his own
excellency and goodness, that no other can
have. On the other side, would an hypo-
crite deal truly and impartially by himself,
he would readily find out something that
would discover him more or less to himself ;
but the truth is, men are willing to deceive
themselves, and thence arises the difficulty.
One man cannot make another sensible of
the sweetness of divine grace ; he may speak
to him of it very excellently, but all he says
in that kind is an unknown language to a
natural man, — he heareth many good words,
but he cannot tell what they mean. The
natural man tastes not the things of God,
for they are spiritually discerned, 1 Cor. ii.
14.
A spiritual man himself doth not fully
conceive this sweetness that he tastes of ; it
is an infinite goodness, and he hath but a
taste of it : the peace of God is a main fruit
of this his goodness ; it passeth all under-
standing, says the apostle, Phil. iv. T, not
only all natural understanding, as some
modify it, but all understanding, even the '
supernatural understanding of those that en-
joy it ; and as the godly man cannot con-
VEJI. 3, 4.J
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
ceive it all, so that which he conceives he
cannot express it all, and that which he doth
express, the carnal mind cannot conceive of
it by his expression.
But he that hath indeed tasted of his good-
ness, O how tasteless are those things to
him, that the world calls sweet : As when
you have tasted somewhat that is very sweet,
it disrelishes other things after it : There-
fore can a Christian so easily either want, or
use with disregard, the delights of this earth.
His heart is not upon them : For the delight
that he finds in God, carrieth it unspeakably
away from all the rest, and makes them in
comparison seem sapless to his taste.
Solomon tasted of all the delicacies, the
choicest dishes, that are in such esteem
amongst men, and not only tasted, but ate
largely of them : and yet see how he goes
over them, to let us know what they are, and
passes from one dish to another, This also
is vanity, and of the next, This also is
vanity, and so through all, and of all in
general, All is vanity and vexation of spirit,
or feeding on the icind, as the word may be
rendered.
3. \Vt come, in the third place, to the
inference, Jf ye have tasted, &c. then lay
aside all malice and guile, and hypocrisies
and envies, and all evil speakings, ver. 1 :
For it looks back to the whole exhortation ;
sure if you have tasted of that kindness and
sweetness of God in Christ, it will compose
yoi;r spirits, and conform them to him ; it
will diffuse such a sweetness through your
souls, that there will be no place for malice
and guile. There will be nothing but love
and meekness, and singleness of heart :
therefore they that have bitter malicious
spirits, evidence they have not tasted of the
love of God : as the Lord is good, so they
that taste it are made like him, Eph. iv. 32.
Be ye kind one to another, tender-hearted,
forgiving one another, even as God for
Christ's sake hath forgiven you.
Again, If ye have tasted, and then desire
niore, this is the truest sign of it ; he that is
in a continual hunger and thirst after this
graciousness of God, has surely tasted of it.
My soul thirsteth for God, (saith David,
Psal. xlii. 2. ;) he had tasted before, ver. 4,
he remembers that he went to the house of
God with the voice of joy.
This is that happy circle wherein the soul
moves : the more they love it, the more they
shall taste of this goodness ; and the more
they taste, the more they shall still love and
desire it.
But observe, if ye have tasted that the
Lord is gracious, then desire the milk of the
word. This is the sweetness of the word,
that it hath in it the Lord's graciousness,
gives us the knowledge of his love ; this they
dncl in it, that have spiritual life and senses,
and those senses exercised to discern gooc
and evil ; and this engages a Christian to
further desire of the word.
They are fantastical deluding tastes, that
draw men from the written word, and make
them expect other revelations. This graci-
ousness is first conveyed to us by the word ;
there we taste it, and therefore there still we
are to seek it, to hang upon those breasts that
cannot be drawn dry ; there the love of God
in Christ streams forth in the several promi-
ses ; the heart that cleaves to the word of
God, and delights in it, cannot but find in
it daily new tastes of his goodness ; there it
reads his love, and by that stirs up its own
to him, and so grows, and loves every day
more than the former, and thus is tending
from tastes to fulness. It is but little we can
receive here, some drops of joy that enter into
us ; but there we shall enter into joy, as ves-
sels put into a sea of happiness.
VER. 4. To whom coming, as unto a living stone,
disallowed indeed of men, but chosen of God, and
precious,
YE it 5. Ye also, as lively stones, are built up a
spiritual house, an holy priesthoCKl, to offer up
spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus
Christ.
THE spring of all the dignities of a Chris-
tian, and therefore the great motive of all
his duties, is, his near relation to Jesus Christ.
Thence it is that the apostle makes that the
great subject of his doctrine, both to repre-
sent to his distressed brethren their dignity
in that, and to press by it the necessary du-
ties he exhorts unto. Having spoke ot their
spiritual life, and growth in Him, under the
resemblance of natural life, he prosecutes it
here, by another comparison very frequent in
the scriptures, and therefore makes use in it
of some of those passages of scripture, that
were prophetical of Christ and his Church.
Though there are here two different simili-
tudes, yet they have so near relation one to
another, and meet so well in the same sub-
ject, that he joins them together, and then
illustrates them severally in the following
verses : a temple and a priesthood, compar-
ing the saints to both. The former in these
words of this verse.
We have in it, 1 . The nature of the build-
ing ; 2. The materials of it ; 3. The struc-
ture or way of building it.
1. The nature ; it is a spiritual building.
Time and place, we know, received their
being from God, and He was eternally before
both, and is therefore styled by the Prophet,
The high and lofty One that inhabiteth
eternity, Isa. Ivii. 15 ; but having made the
world, he fills it, though not as contained in
it ; and so the whole frame of it is his palace,
or temple ; but after a more special manner,
the higher and statelier part of it, the highest
heaven ; therefore it is called his holy place^
and the habitation of his holiness and glory :
And on earth, the houses of his public war
ship are called his hovsts ; especially tha
Jewish temple in its tim3, having in it such
a relative typical holiness, which others have
not. But besides all these, and beyond them
all in excellency, he hath a house wherein he
dwells more peculiarly than in any of the rest,
even more than in heaven, taken for the
place only, and that is this spiritual build-
ing. And this is most suitable to the na-
ture of God, as our Saviour says of the ne-
cessary conformity of his worship to himself,
God is a Spirit, and therefore will be wor-
shipped in spirit and in truth, John iv. 24.
So it holds of his house, he must have a spi-
ritual one, because he is a Spirit. So God's
temple is his people.
And for this purpose chiefly did he make
the world, the heaven and the earth, — that
in it he might raise this spiritual building
for himself to dwell in for ever, to have a
number of his reasonable creatures to enjoy
him, and glorify him in eternity ; and from
eternity he knew what the dimensions, and
frame, and materials of it should be. The
continuance of this present world, as it now
is, is but for the service of this work, like the
scaffolding about it ; and therefore, when this
spiritual building shall be fully completed,
all the present frame of things in the world,
and in the Church itself, shall be taken away
and appear no more.
This building is, as the particular design-
ing of its materials will teach us, the whole
invisible church of God, and each good man
is a stone of this building ; but as the na-
ture of it is spiritual, it hath this privilege
(as they speak of the soul,) that it is tola in
toto, et tola in qualibet parte : As the
whole church is the spouse of Christ, an(3
each believing soul hath the same title anc
dignity to be called so ; thus each of these
stones is called a whole temple, temples
of the Holy Ghost, 1 Cor. vi. 19, though
taking the temple or building in a com-
pleter sense, they are but each one a part
or a stone of it, as here it is expressed.
The whole excellency of this building is
comprised in this, that it is called spiritual
distinguishing it from all other buildings, an<
preferring it to them ; and because he speaki
immediately after of a priesthood and sacri
fices, it seems to be called a spiritual build
ing, particularly in opposition to that mate
rial temple wherein the Jews gloried, whicl
was now null, in regard of its former use
and was quickly after entirely destroyed
But when it stood, and the legal use of i
stood in its fullest vigour, yet in this still i
was inferior, that it was not a spiritual hous
made up of living stones as this, but of
like matter with other earthly buildings.
The spiritual house is the palace of th
Great King, or his temple. The Hebrew
word for palace and temple is one. God'
temple is a palace, and therefore must be ful
of the richest beauty and magnificence, bu
A COMMENTARY UPON [CHAP. u.
uch as agrees with the nature of it, a spiri-
ual beauty. In that psalm that wishes so
nany prosperities, one is, that their daugh-
trs may be as corner-stones, polished after
he similitude of a palace, Psal. cxliv. 12.
This is the church that is called the King's
iaughter, Psal. xlv. 13, but her comeliness
s invisible to the world, she is all glorious
cithin. Through sorrows and persecutions
he may be smoky and black to the world's
:ye, as the tents of Kcdar ; but in regard of
piritual beauty, she is comely as the cur-
ains of Solomon : And in this the Jewish
emple resembles it right, which had most
f its riches and beauty in the inside. Holi-
icss is the gold of this spiritual house, and
t is inwardly enriched witli that.
The glory of the church of God consists
not in stately buildings of temples, and rich
'urniture, and pompous ceremonies ; these
agree not with its spiritual nature. Its true
and genuine beauty is, to grow in spiritua-
ity, and so to be liker itself, and have more
of the presence of God, and his glory filling
t as a cloud. And it hath been observed,
;hat the more the Church grew in outward
riches and state, the less she grew, or rather
the more sensibly she abated, in spiritual
excellencies. But the spiritualness of this
milding will batter appear in considering
wrticularly,
2. The materials of it, as here expressed,
To whom coming, &c. ye also as lively
stones are built, &c. Now, the whole
building is Christ mystical : Christ, together
with the entire body of the elect ; He as the
foundation, and they as the stones built upon
him ; He the living stone, and they likewise,
by union with him, as living stones ; He
having life in himself, as he speaks, John
vi., and they deriving it from him ; He
primitively living, and they by participation :
For therefore is he called here a living stone,
not only because of his immortality and glo-
rious resurrection, being a Lamb that was
slain and is alive again for ever ,• but be-
cause he is the principle of spiritual and eter.
nal life unto us, a living foundation, that
transfuses this life into the whole building,
and every stone of it, In whom (says the
apostle, Eph. ii. 21,) all the building is fitly
framed together. It is the Spirit that flows
from him which enlivens it, and knits it
together, as a living body ; for the same
word
is used, Eph. iv. 16,
for the Church, under the similitude of a
body. When it is there said, chap. ii. 20,
to be built upon the foundation of the Pro-
phets and Apostles, it only refers to their
doctrine concerning Christ ; and therefore it
is added, that He, as being the subject of
their doctrine, is the chief corner-stone.
The foundation, then, of the Church lies not
in Home, but in heaven, and therefore is out
of the reach of all enemies, and above the
TEK. 4, O.J
THE 1'IRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
power of the gates of hell. Fear not, then,
when you see the storms arise, and the winds
blotf, against this spiritual building, for it
thall stand ; if is built upon an invisible,
imrnoveable Rock ; and that great Babylon,
Kome itself, that, under the false title and
pretence of supporting this building, is work-
ing to overthrow it, shall be utterly overthrown,
and laid equal with the ground, and never
be rebuilt again. But this foundation-stone,
as it is commended by its quality, that it is
a living and enlivening stone, having life,
and giving life to those that are built on it,
so is also further described by God's choos-
ing it, and its own worth, both opposed to
men's disesteem ; and therefore said here, to
be chosen of God. God did indeed from
eternity contrive this building, and choose
this same foundation, and accordingly in the
fulness of time did perform his purpose ; so
the thing being one, we may take it either
for his purpose or performance, or both ; yet
it seems most suitable to the strain of the
words, and the place after alleged, of laying
him in Sion, and opposing the rejection of
men, that we may take it for God's actual
employing of Jesus Christ in the work of our
redemption : He alone was fit for that work ;
it was utterly impossible that any other should
bear the weight of that service (and so of
this building) but He who was Almighty ;
therefore the Spouse calls him the Select or
Choice often thousand, yet rejected of men !
There is an antipathy (if we may so speak)
betwixt the mind of God and corrupt nature :
tile things that are highly esteemed with men
ere an abomination to God ; and thus we
see here, that which is highly esteemed of
God, is cast and disallowed by men. But
sure there is no comparison ; the choosing
and esteem of God stands, and by that, judge
men of Christ as they will, He is the foun-
dation of this building. And he is in true
value answerable to this esteem : He is pre-
cious, which seems to signify a kind of in-
ward worth, hidden from the eyes of men,
blind unbelieving men, but well known to God,
and to those to whom he reveals him. And
this is the very cause of his rejection by the
most, the ignorance of his worth and excel-
lency ; as a precious stone that the skilful
lapidary esteems of great value, an ignorant
beholder makes little or no account of.
These things hold likewise in the other
stones of this building, chosen before time ;
all thai should be of this building are fore-
ordained in God's purpose, all written in that
book beforehand, and then in due time they
are chosen, by actual calling, according to
that purpose, hewed out and severed by
God's own hand from the quarry of corrupt
nature : dead stones in themselves, as the
lest, but made living, by his bringing them
to Christ, and so made truly pr, cious,' and
accounted precious by Him that hath ma-'e
them so. All the stones in this building
are called God's jewels, Mai. iii. Though
they be vilified, and scoffed at, and despised
3y men ; though they pass for fools and the
refuse of the world ; yet they may easily di.
est all that, in the comfort of this, if they
are chosen of God, and precious in his eyes.
This was the very lot of Christ, and there-
fore by that the more welcome that it con-
forms them to him, and suits these stones
to their foundation.
And if we consider it aright, what a poor
despicable thing is the esteem of men ! How
soon is it past ! Jt is a small thing' for me,
says the apostle, to be judged of men, 1 Cor.
iv. 3. Now, that God often chooses for this
building such stones as men cast away as
good for nothing, see 1 Cor. i. 26, &c. ; and
where he says, Isa. Ivii. 15, that he dwells
in the high and holy place, what is his
other dwelling ? His habitation in earth.
Is it in great palaces and courts ? No ; but
with him that is of a contrite and humble
spirit. Now, these are the basest in men's
account, yet He chooses them, and prefers
them to all other palaces and temples, Isa.
Ixvi. 1, 2. " Thus saith the Lord, The
heaven is my throne, and the earth is my
footstool : where is the house that ye build
unto me ? and where is the place of my
rest ? For all those things hath mine hand
made, and all those things have been, saith
the Lord ; but to this man will I look, even
to him that is poor, and of a contrite, spi-
rit, and trembleth at my word." q. d. " You
cannot gratify me with any dwelling, for
I myself have made all, and a surer house
than any you can make me, The heaven is
my throne, and the earth is my footstool ,•
but I, that am so high, am pleased to regard
the lowly."
3. We have the structure, or way of
building, To whom coming.] First coming,
then built up. They that come unto Christ,
come not only from the world that lieth in
wickedness, but out of themselves. Of a great
many that seem to come to Christ, it may
be said that they are not come to him, be-
cause they have not left themselves. That
is believing on him, which is the very resign-
ing the soul to Christ, and living by him.
" Ye will not come unto me that ye may
have life," says Christ, John v. 40. He
complains of it as a wrong done to him ; but
the loss is ours. It is his glory to give us
life that were dead ; but it is our happiness
to receive that life from him. Now, these
stones come unto their foundation ; which
imports the moving of the soul to Christ,
being moved by his Spirit, and that the will
acts, and willingly ; for it cannot act other-
wise, but as being actuated and drawn by
the Father, John vi. 65, " No man can
come to me except the Father draw him :"
And tre outward mean of drawing, is by
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. 11
the word ; it is the sound of that harp that
brings the stones of this spiritual building
together, and then, being united to Christ,
they are built up ; that is, as St. Paul ex-
presses it, Eph. ii. 21, " they grow up unto
a holy temple in the Lord."
In times of peace the church may dilate
more, and build as it were into breadth ; but
in trouble, it arises more in height ; it is
then built upwards ; as in cities where men
are straitened, they build usually higher than
in the country. Notwithstanding the Church's
afflictions, yet still the building is going for-
ward ; it is built (as Daniel speaks of Jeru-
salem) in troublous times. And it is this
which the apostle intends, as suiting with
his foregoing exhortation ; and this may be
read exhortatively too ; but taking it rather
as asserting their condition, it is for this end,
that they may remember to be like it, and
grow up. For this end he expressly calls
them living stones ; an adjunct not usual
for stones, but here inseparable : and there-
fore, though the apostle changes the simili-
tude from infants to stones, yet he will not
let go this quality of living, as making
chiefly for his purpose.
To teach us the necessity of growth in
believers, they are therefore often compared
to things that grow, to trees planted in fruit-
ful growing places, as by the rivers of water,
to cedars in Lebanon, where they are tallest,
to the morning light, to infants on the
breast ; and here, where the word seems to
refuse it, to stones, yet (it must and well
doth admit this unwonted epithet) they are
called living and growing stones.
If, then, you would have the comfortable
persuasion of this union with Christ, see
whether you find your souls established up-
cn Jesus Christ, finding him as your strong
foundation : not resting on yourselves, nor
on any other thing, either within you or
without you, but supported by Him alone ;
drawing life from Him, by virtue of that
union, as from a living foundation, so as to
say with the apostle, " I live by faith in
the Son of God, who loved me, and gave
himself for me." Gal. ii. 20.
. As these stones are built on Christ by
faith, so they are cemented one to another by
love ; and therefore, where that is not, it is
but a delusion to think themselves parts of
this building. As it is knit to Him, it is
knit together in itself through him ; and if
dead stones in a building support and mu.
tually strengthen one another, how much
more ought living stones in an active lively
way to do so ? The stones of this building
keep their place ; the lower rise not up to
be in the pl^ce of the higher. As the apos-
tle speaks of the parts of the body, so the
stones of this building in humility and love
keep their station and grow up in it, edify,
tat/ in love, (as sahh the apostle, Eph. iv.
16,) importing, that the want of this much
prejudices edification.
These stones, because they are living,
therefore grow in the life of grace and spi.
ritualn-jss, being a spiritual building : So
that if we find not this, but our hearts are
still carnal, and glued to the earth, minding
earthly things, wiser in those than in spiri-
tuals, this evidence* strongly against us,
that we are not of this building. How few
of us have that spiritualness that becomes
the temples of the Holy Ghost or the stones
of it ! Base lusts arc still lodging and ruling
within us, and so our hearts are as cages of
unclean birds and filthy spirits.
Consider this as your happiness, and the
unsolidness of other comforts and privileges.
If some have called those stones happy, that
were taken for the building of temples cr al-
tars, beyond those in common houses, how
true is it here ! Happy indeed the stones
that God chooses to be living stones in this
spiritual temple ! though they be hammered
and hewed to be polished for it, by afflictions,
and the inward work of mortification and re-
pentance. It is worth the enduring all, to
be fitted for this building. Happy they, be-
yond all the rest of men ! though they be
set in never so great honours, as prime parts
of politic buildings, states and kingdoms, in
the courts of kings, yea, or kings themselves :
For all other buildings, and all the parts of
them, shall be demolished and come to no-
thing, from the foundation to the cope-stone ;
all your houses, both cottages and palaces ;
" the elements shall melt away, and the
earth, with all the works in it, shall be con-
sumed," as our apostle hath it, 2 Pet. iii.
10. But this spiritual building shall grow
up to heaven ; and being come to perfection,
shall abide for ever in perfection of beauty
and glory. In it shall be found no unclean
thing, nor unclean person, but only they
that are written in the Lamb's book of life.
An holy priesthood.] As the worship
and ceremonies of the Jewish church were
all shadows of Jesus Christ, and have their
accomplishment in him, not only after a sin-
gular manner in his own Person, but in a
derived way, in his mystical body, his'
Church ; the priesthood of the law repre-
sented Him as the Great High Priest, that
offered up himself for our sins, and that is
altogether incommunicable ; neither is there
any peculiar office of priesthood for offering
sacrifice in the Christian Church, but His
alone who is Head of it. But this dignity
that is here mentioned of a spiritual priest-
hood, offering spiritual sacrifice, is common
to all those that are in Christ ; as they are
living stones built on Him into a spiritual
temple, so they are priests of that same tem-
ple, made by him, Rev. i. G. As he wag
after a transcendent manner, Temple, and
Priest, and Sacrifice ; so, in their kind, are
VEH. 4, 5.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
79.
Christians, all these three through him ; and
by his Spirit that is in them, their offerings
through him are made acceptable.
We have here, 1. The office ; 2. The
service of that office ; 3. The success of that
service.
1. The office. The death of Jesus Christ,
as being every way powerful for reconcilement
and union, did not only break the partition-
wall of guiltiness that stood betwixt God and
man, but the wall of ceremonies that stood
betwixt the Jews and Gentiles ; made all
that believe, one with God ; and made of
both one, as the apostle speaks, united them
one to another. The way of salvation was
made known, not to one nation only, but to
all people ; that whereas the knowledge of
God was confined to one little corner, it is
now diffused through the nations ; and
whereas the dignity of their priesthood stay-
ed in few persons, all they that believe are
now thus dignified to be priests unto God
the Father. And this was signified by the
rending of the veil of the temple at his
death, not only that those ceremonies and
sacrifices were to cease, as being all fulfilled
in him ; but that the people of God that
were before by that veil held out in the outer
court, were to be admitted into the holy
place, as being all of them priests, and fitted
to offer sacrifices.
The priesthood of the law was holy, and
its holiness was signified by many outward
things suitable to their manner, by anoint-
ings, and washings, and vestments ; but in
this spiritual priesthood of the gospel, holi-
ness itself is instead of all those, as being
the substance of all. The children of God
are all anointed and purified, and clothed
with holiness. But then,
2. There is here the service of this office,
namely, to offer. There is no priesthood
without sacrifice, for these are relative, and
this was the chief employment of the legal
priests ; now, because the priesthood here
spoken of is altogether spiritual, therefore
the sacrifices must be so too, as the apostle
here expresses it.
We are saved the pains and cost of bring-
ing bullocks and rams, and other such sacri-
fices ; and these are in their stead ; as the
apostle speaks, Heb. vii. 12. of the High-
priesthood of Christ, that the priesthood
being changed, there followed of necessity
a chanye of the law : so in this priesthood
of Christians, there is a change of the kind
of sacrifice from the other. All sacrifice is
not taken away, but it is changed from the
offering of things formerly in use, to spiri-
tual sacrifices.
Now, these are every way preferable ; they
are easier and cheaper to us, and yet more
precious and acceptable to God. As it fol-
lows here in the text, even in the time when
the other sacrifices were in request, yet those
spiritual offerings had ever the precedence in
God's account, and without them, he hated
and despised all burnt-offerings, and the
largest sacrifices, though they were then ac-
cording to his own appointment. How much
more should we abound in spiritual sacrifice,
that are eased of the other ! How much
more holds that answer now, that was given
even in those times, Mic. vi. 6, Wherewith
shall I come before the Lord, &c. You
need not all that trouble and expence : that
is at hand which God requires most of all,
namely, to do justly, and to love mercy, and
to walk humbly with thy God. So, Psal.
1. 23, that which is peculiarly spoke of
Christ, holds in Christians by conformity
with him.
But though the spiritual sacrificing is easier
in its own nature, yet to the corrupt nature
of man it is by far the harder. He would
rather choose still all the toil and cost of the
former way, if it were in his option. This
was the sin of the Jews in those times, that
they leaned the soul upon the body's service
too much, and would have done enough of
that to be dispensed from this spiritual ser-
vice. Hence are the Lord's frequent re-
proofs and complaints of this, Ps. 1. Isa. i.
&c. Hence the willingness in Popery for
outward work, for penances, and satisfactions
of bodies and purses ; any thing of that kind,
if it might serve, rather than the inward
work of repentance and mortification, the spi-
ritual service and sacrifices of the soul : But
the answer of all those from God is that of
the Prophet, " Who hath required these
things at your hands ?" Isa. i. 12.
Indeed the sacred writers press works of
charity, if they be done with a right hand,
and the left hand not so much as acquainted
with the business ; as our Saviour speaks,
" Let not thy left hand know what thy right
hand doth," Matt. vi. 3. They must be
done with a single intention, and from a
right principle moving to them, without any
vain opinion of meriting by them with God,
or any vain desire of gaining applause with
men ; but merely out of love to God, and to
man for his sake. Thus they are one of
these spiritual sacrifices ; and therefore ought
by no means to be neglected by Christian
priests, that is, by any that are Christians.
Another spiritual sacrifice is, the prayers
of the saints, Rev. v. 8, Psal. cxli. 2, " Let
my prayer be set forth before thee as incense,
and the lifting up of my hands as the even-
ing sacrifice." It is not the composure of
prayer, or the eloquence of expression, that
is the sweetness of it in God's account, and
makes it a sacrifice of a • pleasing smell or
sweet odour to him ; but the breathing forth
the desire of the heart that makes it a
spiritual sacrifice, otherwise it is as carnal,
and dead, and worthless, in God's account,
as the carcases of beasts. Incense can nei-
80
ther smell, nor ascend, without fire; no
more doth prayer, unless it arise from a bent
of spiritual affection ; it is that both makes
it smell and sends it heavenwards, makes it
never leave moving upwards till it come be-
fore God, and smell sweet in his nostrils,
which few, too few, of our prayers do.
Praise is also a sacrifice ; to make respect-
ful and honourable mention of the name of
God, and of his goodness ; to bless him
humbly and heartily. Heb. xiii. 15 ; Psal.
1. 14, 23, Offer unto God thanksgiving.
Whoso offereth praise glorifieth me. And
this is that sacrifice that shall never end, but
continues in heaven to eternity. Then a
holy course of life is called the sacrifice of
righteousness, Psal. iv. 6, Phil. iv. 8, Heb.
xiii. 1C, where he shews what sacrifices suc-
ceed to those that, as he hath taught at large,
are abolished. Christ sacrificed for us, and
that alone, was powerful to take away sin ;
but our gratulatory sacrifices, praise and alms,
are as incense burnt to God, of which, as
the standers-by find the sweet smell, so the
holy life of Christians smells sweet to those
with whom they live : But the wicked,
as putrified carcases, are of a noisome
smell to God and man, Psal. xiv. 4, They
are corrupt ; they have done abominable
works.
In a word, that sacrifice, that includes all
these, and without which none of these can
be rightly offered, is ourselves, our whole
selves. Our bodies are to be presented a
living sacrifice, Rom. xii. 1, and they are
not that without our souls. It is our heart
given that gives all the rest, for that com-
mands all. My son, give me thy heart, and
then the other will follow, Thine eyes will
delight in my ways. This makes the eyes,
ears, tongue, and hands and all, to be holy,
as God's peculiar, being once given and con-
secrated to him ; and therefore it becomes
sacrilege to turn them to an unholy use.
This makes a man to delight to hear and
speak of things that concern God, and to
think on him frequently, to be holy in his
secret thoughts, and all his ways. In every
thing we bring him, every thanksgiving and
prayer we offer, his eye is upon the heart, he
looks if it be along with our offering ; and if
he miss it, he cares not for all the rest, and
throws it back again.
The heart must be offered withal, and the
whole heart, all of it entirely given to him :
Si totum obtulit Christus pro nobis. In
another sense, which crosses not this, it must
not be whole but broken, Psal. li. But if
thou find it unbroken, yet give it him, with
a desire that it may be broken ; and if it be
broken, and if, when thou hast given it him,
he break it more, yea and melt it too, yet
thou shall not repent thy gift ; for he breaks
d melts it, that he may refine it, and
uiake u UD in a new and excellent frame,
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. II.
and may impress his own image on it. and
make it holy, and so like to himself.
Let us then give him ourselves, or no-
thing ; and to give ourselves to him, is not
his advantage but our's ; as the philosopher
said to his poor scholar, who, when others
gave him great gifts, told him, he had no-
thing but himself to give ; " It is well, (said
he,) and I will endeavour to give thee back
to thyself better than I received thee."
Thus doth God with us, and a Christian
makes himself his daily sacrifice ; he renews
this gift of himself every day to God, and
receiving it every day bettered again, still he
hath the more delight to give it, as being
fitter for God, the more it is sanctified by
former sacrificing.
Now that whereby we offer all other spiri-
tual sacrificings, and even ourselves, is love.
That is the holy fire that burns up all, sends
up our prayers, and our hearts, and our
whole selves, a whole burnt-offering to God :
And as the fire of the altar, it is originally
from heaven, being kindled by God's own
love to us ; and by this the Church and each
believer ascends like a straight pillar of
smoke, as the word is, Cant. iii. 6, going
even up to God perfumed with aloes and all
the spices, all the graces of the Spirit re-
ceived from Christ, but above all with his
own merits.
How far from this is the common mul-
titude of us, though professing to be Chris-
tians ! Who considers his holy calling ?
As the peculiar holiness of the ministry
should be much in their eye and thoughts
that are called to it, as they should study to
be answerably eminent in holiness, so all
that are Christians, consider you are priests
unto God, being called a holy priesthood ;
thus you ought to be. But if we speak what
we are indeed, we must say rather, we are
an unholy priesthood, a shame to that name
and holy profession ; instead of the sacrifices
of a godly life, and the incense of prayer and
praise, in families and alone, what is with
many but the filthy vapours of profane speak-
ing and a profane life, as a noisome smell
arising out of a dunghill !
But you, that have once offered up your-
selves unto God, and are still doing so, with
all the services you can reach, continue to do
so, and be assured, that how unworthy soever
yourselves and all your offerings be, yet they
shall not be rejected.
The 3d thing here observable, is the suc-
cess of that service, acceptable to God bij
Jesus Christ, Heb. xiii. 16. The children
of God do delight in offering sacrifices to
him : But if they might not know that they
were well taken at their hands, this would
discourage them much ; therefore this is
added. How often do the godly find it in
their sweet experience, that when they come
»o pray, he welcomes them, and gives them
VEH. G.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
ai
such evidences of his love as they would not
exchange for all worldly pleasures ! And
when this doth not so presently appear at
olhrr times, yet they oiiglri io believe it.
He accepts themselves and their ways of-
fered in sincerity, though never so mean ;
though they sometimes have no more but a
sigh or groan, it is most properly a spiritual
sacrifice.
Stay not therefore away, because thon,
and the gifts thou offerest, are inferior to
the offerings of others. No, none are ex-
cluded for that ; only give what thou hast,
and act with affection, for that he regards
most. Under the law, they that had not
a lamb, were welcome with a pair of pi-
geons ; so that the Christian may say,
" What I am, Lord, I offer myself unto
thcc, to be wholly thine ; and had I a
thousand times more of outward or inward
gifts, all should be thine ; had I a greater
estate, or wit, or learning, or power, I would
endeavour to serve thee with all. What
I have I offer thee, and it is most truly
thine, it is but of thy own that I give thee."
None needs forbear sacrifice for poverty, for
that which God requires is the heart, and
there is none so poor but that hath a heart
to give him.
But meanness is not all ; there is a guilti-
ness in ourselves, and on all we offer ; our
prayers and services are all polluted. But
this hinders not neither ; for our acceptance
is not for ourselves, but for One, who hath
no guiltiness at alL Acceptable by Jesus
Christ. In him our persons are clothed
with righteousness, and in his clothing, we
are, as Isaac said of Jacob in his brother'."
garments, as tlie smell of a field that the
Lord hath blessed, Gen. xxvii. 27. And all
our other sacrifices, our prayers, and services,
if we offer them by him, and put them into
his hand, to offer to the Father ; then doubt
not they will be accepted in him ; for this,
by Jesus Chtist, is relative both to our
offering and acceptance. We ought not to
offer any thing, but by him, Heb. xiii. 15.
And so we are well pleasing, for he is his
well-beloved Son, in whom his soul is de-
lighted ; not only delighted, and pleaset
with himself, but in him, with all things
and persons that appear in him, and are pre-
sented by him.
And this alone answers all our doubts ;
for we ourselves, as little as we see that way,
yet may see so much in our best services, so
many wanderings in prayer, so much dead-
ness, &c. as would make us still doubtful ol
acceptance ; so that we might say with Job,
Although he had answered me, yet would I
not believe that he had hearkened to me,
Job ix. 16, were it not for this, that our
prayers, and all our sacrifices, pass through
Christ's hand. He is that Angel that hath
much sweet odours to mingle with tlie
prayers of the saints, Rev. viii. 3, 4. He
nirifies them with his own merits and inter-
:ession, and so makes them pleasing unto
.lie Father. How ought our hearts to be
cnit to him ! by whom we are brought into
avour with God, and kept in favour with
lim, in whom we obtain all the good we re-
:eive, and in whom all we offer is accepted !
[n him are all our supplies of grace, and our
lopes of glory.
VEJI. G. Wherefore, also, it is contained in the
Scripture, Behold, I lay in Sion a chief comer-
stone, elect, precious : And he that believeth on
Him shall not be confounded.
THAT which is the chief of the works of
God, is therefore very reasonably the chief
subject of his word ; as both most excellent
in itself, and of most concernment for us to
know.
And this is the saving of lost mankind
by his Son. Therefore is his name as pre-
ious ointment or perfume diffused through
the whole scriptures. All these holy leaves
smell of it, not only these that were written
after his coming, but those that were written
before. Search the Scriptures, says he
himself, for they testify of me, John v.
39, namely, the scriptures of the Old Tes-
tament, which were only then written.
And to evidence this, both himself and his
apostles make so frequent use of their testi-
mony, and we find so much of them inserted
into the New, as being both one in, sub-
stance ; their lines meeting in the same
Jesus Christ as their centre.
The apostle here having expressed the
happy estate and dignity of Christians under
a double notion, 1. of a spiritual house or
temple ; 2. of a spiritual priesthood, he
amplifies and confirms both from the writ-
ings of the prophets. The former, ver. (>,
7, 8 ; the latter, ver. 2. The places that he
cites, touching this building, are most per-
tinent, for they have clearly in them, all that
he spoke of it, both concerning the founda-
tion and the edifice ; as the first in these
words of Isaiah xxviii. 17, Behold I lay in
Sion a chief corner-stone, &c.
Let this commend the scriptures much to
our diligence and affection, that their great
theme is our Redeemer, and redemption
wrought by him : That they contain the
doctrine of his excellencies, — are the lively
picture of his matchless beauty. Were we
more in them, we should daily see more of
him in them, and so of necessity love him
more. But we must look within them : The
letter is but the case : the spiritual sense is
what we should desire to see. We usually
huddle them over, and see uo farther than
their outside, and therefore find so little
sweetness in them ; we read them, but we
search them not, as he requires. Would
we dig into those golden mines, we should
V
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. «.'
find treasures of comfort that cannot be
spent, but would furnish us in the hardest
times.
The prophecy here cited, if we look upon
it in its own place, we shall find inserted in
the middle of a very sad denunciation of
judgment against the Jews. And this is
usual with the prophets, particularly with
this evangelical prophet Isaiah, to uphold
the spirits of the godly, in the worst times,
with this one great consolation, the promise
of the Messiah ; as weighing down all, both
temporal distresses and deliverances. Hence
are those sudden accents, (so frequent in the
prophets), from their present subject, to this
great hope of Israel. And if this expecta-
tion of a Saviour was so pertinent a comfort
in all estates, so many ages before the accom-
plishment of it, how wrongfully do we un-
dervalue it, being accomplished, if we can-
not live upon it, and answer all with it, and
sweeten all our griefs in this advantage, that
there is a Foundation-stone laid in Sion,
on which they that are builded shall be sure
not to be ashamed !
In the words, there are five things : 1.
This foundation-stone ; 2. The laying of it ;
3. The building on it ; 4. The firmness of
this building ; and, 5. or lastly, The great-
ness and excellency of the whole work.
]. For the Foundation, called here a chief
Corner-stone — Though the prophet's words
are not precisely rendered, yet the substance
and sense is one : There both the founda-
tion and corner-stone is expressed, the cor-
ner-stone in the foundation being the main
support of the building, and throughout the
corner-stones uniting and knitting the build-
ing together ; and therefore this same word
of a corner, is frequently taken in scripture
for Princes, or Heads of People, Judges
xx. 2, 1 Sam. xiv. 38, because good gover-
nors and government are that which upholds
and unites the societies of people in states or
kingdoms, as one building. And Jesus
Christ is indeed the alone Head and King
of his Church, who gives it laws, and rules
it in wisdom and righteousness ; the alone
Rock on which his Church is built, not
Peter, (if we will believe St. Peter himself,
as here he teacheth us), much less his pre-
tended successors ; He is the foundation am
comer-stone that knits together the walls o:
Jews and Gentiles, having made of both one
as St. Paul speaks, Eph. ii. 14, and unites
the whole number of believers into one ever-
lasting temple, and bears the weight of the
whole fabric.
Elected,] or chosen out for the purpose
and altogether fit for it. Isaiah hath it, a
Stone of Trial, or a tried Stone. As things
amongst men are best chosen after trial so
Jesus Christ was certainly known by 'the
Father, as most fit for that work, to which
he chose him before he tried him, as after
ipon trial in his life, and death, and resur-
rection, he proved fully answerable to his
Father's purpose, in all that was appointed
lira.
All the strength of angels combined, had
of lot sufficed for that business ; but the wise
Architect of this building knew both what it
would cost, and what a foundation was need-
'ul to bear so great and so lasting a structure
as he intended. Sin having defaced and de-
molished the first building of man in the in-
tegrity of his creation, it was God's design,
out of the very ruins of fallen man, to raise
a more lasting edifice than the former ; one,
that should not be subject to decay ; and
therefore he fitted for it a foundation that
might be everlasting. The sure founding is
the main thing requisite, in order to a last-
ing building ; therefore, that it might stand
for the true honour of his Majesty, (which
Nebuchadnezzar vainly boasted of his Babel,)
lie chose his own Son, made flesh ; he was
God, that he might be a strong founda'ion ;
lie was man, that he might be suitable to the
nature of the stones whereof the building was
to consist, that they might join and cement
together.
Precious,] inestimably precious, by aU
the conditions that can give worth to any, by
rareness, and by inward excellency, and use-
ful virtues. Rare he is, out of doubt ; there
is not such a person in the world again:
Therefore he is called by the same prophet,
Wonderful, Isa. ix. 6, full of wonders ; the
power of God and the frailty of man dwell-
ing together in his person ; the Ancient oj
days, Dan. vii. 9, becoming an infant : He,
that stretcheth forth the heavens, was bound
up in swaddling clothes in that his infancy ;
and in his full age, stretched forth on the
cross ; altogether spotless and innocent, and
yet suffering not only the unjust cruelties of
men, but the just wrath of God his Father ;
the Lord of life, and yet dying. His ex-
cellency appears in the same things, in that
He is the Lord of life, God blessed for ever ;
equal with the Father : The sparkling
brightness of this precious stone is no less
than this, that he is the brightness of the
Father's glory, Heb. i. 3 ; so bright that
men could not have beheld him appearing in
himself; therefore, he veiled it with our
flesh ; and yet through that, it shined and
sparkled so, that the apostle St. John says
of himself, and those others that had eyes
opened, and looked right upon him, He
dwelt amongst us, and he had a tent like
ours, and yet through that, "we saw his
glory, as the glory of the only-begotten Son
of God, full of grace and truth," John i. 14,
the Deity filling his human nature with all
manner of grace in its highest perfection*
And Christ is not only thus excellent in him-
self, but of precious virtue, which he lets
forth und imparts to others ; of such virtue,
VER. 6.)
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
that a touch cf him is the only cure of spiri-
taal diseases. Men tell of strange virtues of
some stones ; but it is certain, that this pre-
cious Stone hath not only virtue to heal the
sick, but even to raise the dead. Dead
bodies he raised in the days of his abode on
earth, and dead souls he still doth raise by
the power of his word. The prophet Mala-
chi calls him the Sun of Righteousness, (iv.
2,) which hath in it the rareness and excel-
lency we speak of: He is singular ; as there
is but one sun in the world, so but one Sa-
viour, and his lustre such a stone as out-
shines the sun in its fullest brightness :
And then for his useful virtue, he adds,
That he hath healing under his wings ;
this his worth is unspeakable, and remains
infinitely beyond all these resemblances.
2. There is here the laying of this foun-
dation, and it is said to be laid in Sion ;
that is, it is laid in the Church of God.
And it was first laid in Sion literally, being
then the seat of the Church and true religion :
He was laid there, in his manifestation in
•he flesh, and suffering, and dying, and ris-
ing again, and afterwards being preached
through the world, became the foundation
of his Church in all places where his name
was received : and so was a Stone growing
great, till it filled the whole earth, as Daniel
hath it, ii. 35.
He saith, / lay ; by which the Lord ex-
presseth this his own proper work, as the
Psalmist speaks of the same subject, Psalm
cxviii. 23, " This is the Lord's doing ; anc
it is marvellous in our eyes." So Isa. ix.
7> speaking of this promised Messiah.
" The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform
this."
And this is not only said, / lay ; becausi
he had the first thought of this great work
(as the model of it was in his mind froir
eternity, and the accomplishment of it was
by his Almighty Power, in the morning o
his Son's birth, and his life, and death, anc
resurrection :) but also to signify the freeness
of his grace, in giving his Son to be a foun
dation of happiness to man, without thi
least motion from man, or motive in man, tc
draw him to it. And this seems to be sig
nified by the unexpected inserting of these
prophetical promises of the Messiah, in th
midst of complaints of people's wickedness
and threatening them with punishment ; t
intimate that there is no connection betwix
this work, and any thing on man's part, fi
to procure it. " Although you do thus pro
voke me to destroy you, yet of myself I hav
other thoughts, there is another purpose in m;
head." And Isa. vii. 10 — 13, it is observabl
to this purpose, that that clearest promise o
die virgin's Son is given, not only unrequired
but being refused by that profane king, Ahaz
Tills again, that the Lord himself is th
layer cf this Corner-stone, teaches us th
rmness of it, which is likewise expressed in
lie prophet's words, very emphatically, by
edoubling the same word, -musad, musad,
'undamentum, fundamentum.
So Psal. ii. 6, " I have set my king up-
in my holy hill of Zion ;" Who then shall
lethrone him ? " I have given him the hea-
hen for his inheritance, and the ends of the
arth for his possession ;" and who will hin-
ler him to take possession of his right ? If
any offer to do so, what shall they be, but a
lumber of earthen vessels fighting against
an iron sceptre ; and so certainly breaking
hemselves in pieces ? Thus here, / lay
his foundation-stone : And if I lay it,
who shall remove it ? And what I build
upon it, who shall be able to cast down ?
For it is the glory of this great Master-build-
that the whole fabric which is of his
juilding cannot be ruined ; and for that
end, hath he laid an immoveable foundation ;
and for that end, are we taught and remind-
ed of its firmness ; that we may have this
confidence concerning the Church of God
that is built upon it. To the eye of nature,
the Church seems to have no foundation ;
as Job speaks of the earth, that is hung
upon nothing, (Job xxvi. 7,) and yet, as
the earth remaineth firm, being established
in its place by the word and power of God,
the Church is most firmly founded upon the
word made flesh, Jesus Christ is its chief
corner-stone. And as all the winds that .
blow cannot remove the earth out of its place ;
neither can all the attempts of men, no, nor
of the gates of hell, prevail against the
Church, Matth. xvi. 18. It may be beaten
with many boisterous storms, but it cannot
fall, because it is founded upon this Rock,
Matth. vii. 25. Thus it is with the whole
house, and thus with every stone in it, as
here it follows, He that believeth shall not
be confounded.
3. There is next the building on this
foundation. To be built on Christ, is plain-
ly to believe in him. But in this the most
deceive themselves ; they hear of great pri-
vileges and happiness in Christ, and pre-
sently imagine it is all theirs, without any
more ado ; as that madman of Athens, who
wrote up all the ships that came into the
haven for his own. We consider not what
this is to believe in him, and what is the ne-
cessity of this believing, that we may be
partakers of the salvation that he hath
wrought. It is not they that have heard of
him, or that have some common knowledge
of him, or are able to discourse of him, and
speak of his person and nature aright ; but
they that believe in him. Much of our
knowledge is, as that of a geometrician that
can measure land exactly in" all its dimen-
sions, but possesseth not a foot thereof; or
of a poor philosopher, who defineth riches
exactly, and discourseth of their nature, but
A COMMENTARY UPON
LCHAP. n,
And truly it 58 but a life- {foundation is that which makes them SUIP ;
wledge men have of Christ, because it doth not only remain firm itself,
possesseth none.
Jess unsavoury knowledge men ha
by aH books and study, till he reveal him-
self, and persuade the heart to believe in him.
Then indeed it says of all the reports it
neard when it sees him, and is made one
with him, I heard much, yet the half was
not told me. There is in lively faith, when
it is infused into the soul, a clearer knowledge
of Christ and his excellency than before :
and with it a recumbency of the soul upon
him, as the foundation of its life and com-
fort ; a resolving to rest on him, and not to
depart from him upon any terms. Though
I be beset on aH hands, be accused by the
law and mine own conscience, and by Satan,
and have nothing to answer for myself ; yet
here I win stay, for I am sure in him there
is salvation, and nowhere else. All other
refuges are but lies, as it is in the words be-
fore these in the prophet, poor base shifts
that win do no good. God hath laid this
precious Stone in Sion, for this very pur-
pose, that weary souls may rest upon it ; and
why should I not make use of it, according
to his intention ? He hath not forbid any,
how wretched soever, to believe, but com-
mands it, and himself works it where he
will, even in the vilest sinners.
Think it not enough, that you know this
Stone is laid, but see whether you are built
on it by faith. The multitude of imaginary
believers lie round about it, but they are
never the better nor the surer for that, no
more than stones that lie loose in heaps near
unto a foundation, but are not joined to it.
There is no benefit to us by Christ, without
union with him ; no comfort in his riches,
without interest in them, and title to them,
by that union. Then is the soul right,
when it can say, He is altogether lovely,
and as the spouse there, He is mine, my
Well-beloved, Cant. iii. 16. And this union
is the spring of all spiritual consolations;
and faith, by which we are thus united, is a
divine work. He that laid this foundation
in Sion with his own hand, works likewise
with the same hand, faith in the heart, by
which it is knit to this comer-stone. It is
not so easy as we imagine to believe, Eph.
i. 19. Many that think they believe, are
on the contrary like those of whom the
prophet there speaks, hardened in sin, and
carnally secure, whom he represents as in
covenant with hell and death, walking in
tiin, and yet promising themselves impunity.
4. There is the firmness of this building,
uamely, He that believeth on him shall not
be confounded.] This firmness is answer-
able to the nature of the foundation. Not
only the whole frame, but every stone of it
abideth sure. It is a simple mistake, to
judge the persuasion of perseverance to be
self-presumption : they that have it are far
from building it on themselves, but their
but indissolubly supports all that are once
built on it. In the prophet whence this is
cited, it is, shall not make haste, but the
sense is one : they that are disappointed and
ashamed in their hopes, run to and fro, and
seek after some new resource ; this they shall
not need to do that come to Christ. The
believing soul makes haste to Christ, but it
never finds cause to hasten from him ; and
though the comfort it expects and longs for,
be for a time deferred, yet it gives not over,
knowing that in due time it shall rejoice,
and shall not have cause to blush, and think
shame of its confidence in him. David ex-
presseth this distrust, by making haste,
Psal. xxxi. 22. and cxvi. 11, / was too
hasty when I said so. Frustrated hopes,
especially where they have been raised high,
and continued long, do reproach men with
folly, and so shame them. And thus do all
earthly hopes serve us, when we lean much
upon them. We find these things usually
that have promised us most content, pay us
with vexation, and they not only prove broken
reeds, deceiving our trust, but hurtful, run-
m'ng their broken splinters into our hand that
leaned on them. This sure foundation is
laid for us, that our souls may be established
on it, and be as mount Sion that cannot be
removed, Ps. cxxv. 1. Such times may
come as will shake all other supports, but this
holds out against all, Psal. xlvi. 2, " Though
the earth be removed, yet will not we fear."
Though the frame of the world were crack-
ing about a man's ears, he may hear it un-
affrighted that is built on this foundation :
Why then do we choose to build upon the
sand 9 Believe it, wheresoever we lay our
confidence and affection beside Christ, it shall
sooner or later repent us and shame us;
either happily in time, while we may yet
change them for him, and have recourse to
him ; or miserably, when it is too late. Re-
member that we must die, and must appear
before the judgment seat of God, and that
the things we dote on here have neither
power to stay us here, nor have we power to
take them along with us, nor if we could,
would they at all profit us there ; and there-
fore when we look back upon them all at
parting, we shall wonder what fools we are
to make so poor a choice : And in " that
great day wherein all faces shall gather black-
ness," Joel ii. 6, and be filled with confu-
sion, that have neglected to make Christ their
stay when he was offered them, then it shall
appear how happy they are that have trusted
in him ; they shall not be confounded, but
shall lift up their faces, and be acquitted in
him. In their present estate they may be
exercised, but then they shall not be con«
founded, nor ashamed ; there is a double
negation in the original, '•' by no means,
TER. C.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF
{they shalH be more than conquerors through
mm that hath loved them, Rom. viii. 3?.
5. The last thing observable is the great-
ness and excellency of the work, intimated
in that first word, Behold, which imports
this work to be very remarkable, and calls
the eyes to fix upon it.
The Lord is marvellous in the least of his
works, but in this he hath manifested more
of his wisdom and power, and let out more
of his love to mankind, than in all the rest ;
yet we are foolish, and childishly gaze about
us uyon trifles, and let this great work pass
unregarded, we scarce afford it half an eye.
Turn your wandering eyes this way. Look
upon this precious Stone, and behold him,
not in mere speculation, but so behold him,
as to lay hold on him : For we see he is
therefore here set forth, that we may believe
on him, and so not be confounded ,• that we
may attain this blessed union, that cannot be
dissolved. All other unions are dissoluble :
A man may be plucked from his dwelling
house and lands, or they from him, though
he have never so good title to them ; may be
removed from his dearest friends, the husband
from the wife, if not by other accidents in
their life-time, yet sure by death, the great
dissolver of all those unions, and of that
straitest one of the soul with the body ; but
it can do nothing against this union, but on
the contrary perfects it ; for " I am persuad-
ed, (says St. Paul), that neither death, nor
L'fe, ncr angels, nor principalities, nor powers,
nor things present, nor things to come, nor
height, nor depth, nor any other creature,
shall be able to separate us from the love oi
God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord,"
Rom. viii. 38, 39.
There is a twofold mistake concerning
faith. They that are altogether void of it,
abasing and flattering themselves in a vain
opinion that they have it : and on the other
side, they that have it, misjudging their own
condition, and so depriving themselves oi
much comfort and sweetness that they might
find in their believing.
The former is the worse, and yet the far
commoner evil, and what one says of wisdom
is true of faith, " Many would seek after,
and attain it, if they did not falsely imagine
that they have attained it already."* There
is nothing more contrary to the lively nature
of faith, than for the soul not to be at all
busied with the thoughts of its own spiritual
condition, and yet this very character of un-
belief passes with a great many for believing.
They doubt not, that is indeed they consider
not, what they are ; their minds are not at
all on these things ; are not awaked to seek
diligently after Jesus, so as not to rest till
they hnd him. They are well enough with-
out him, it suffices them to hear there is svich
* Puto multos potuisse ad sapientiam pervenire
rvsi putaseent se jam uervenisse. SEK. de Tranq.
a one ; but they ask for themselves, Is he
mine, or no ? Sure if thac be all, not to
doubt, the brutes believe as well as they. !•
were better, out of all question, to be labour*,
ng under doublings ; if it be a more hope-
*ul condition, to find a man groaning and
complaining, than speechless, and breathless,
and not stirring at all.
There be in spiritual doublings two things ;
;here is a solicitous care of the soul concern-
ng its own estate, and diligent inquiry into
t ; and that is laudable, being a true work
of the Spirit of God : but the other thing in
:hem, is perplexity and distrust, which arises
irom darkness and weakness in the soul ; as
where there is a great deal of smoke, and no
dear flame, it argues much moisture in the
matter, yet it witnesseth certainly that ther-
s fire there ; and therefore dubious question-
ing of a man concerning himself, is a much
Dettet evidence, than senseless deadness,
that most take for believing. Men that
know nothing in sciences have no doubts.
He never truly believed, that was not made
first sensible and convinced of unbelief.
This is the Spirit's first errand in the world,
to convince it of sin ; and the sin is this,
that they believe not, John xvi. 8, 9. If
the faith that thou hast, grew out of thy
natural heart of itself, be assured it is but
a weed. The right plant of faith is always
set by God's own hand, and it is watered
and preserved by him. because exposed to
many hazards ; he watches it night aijd da}-,
Isa. xxvii. 3. " I the Lord do keep it, 1
will water it every moment ; lest any hurt
it, I will keep it night and day."
Again, how impudent is it in the most,
to pretend they believe, while they wallow
in profaneness. If faith unite the soul unto
Christ, certainly it puts it into participa-
tion of his Spirit ; "for if any man have not
the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his," says
St: Paul. This faith in Christ brings us
into communion with God. Now, God is
light, says St. John, and therefore infers,
" If we say we have fellowship with God,
and walk in darkness, we lie and do not the
truth," 1 John i. 6. The lie appears in our
practice, an unsuitableness in our carriage ;
as one said of him that signed his verse
wrong, Fecit solcecisrnum manu.
But there be imaginary believers that are
a little more refined, that live after a blame*
less, yea, and a religious manner, as to their
outward behaviour; and they yet are but
appearances of Christians, have not the living
work of faith within, and all these exercises
are dead works in their hands. Amongst
these some may have such notions within
them as may deceive themselves, while their
external deportment deceives others, some
transient touches of desire to Christ, upon
the unfolding of his excellencies in the
preaching of the word, and upon some co»-
A COMMENTARY UPON
86
viction of their own necessity, and may con-
ceive some joy upon thoughts of apprehend,
ing him ; and yet all this proves but a va-
nishing fancy, and embracing of a shadow.
And because men that are thus deluded meet
not with Christ indeed, nor do really find
his sweetness ; therefore within a while, they
return to the pleasure of sin, and their latter
end proves worse than their beginning, 1
Pet. ii. 20. Their hearts could not pos-
sibly be stedfast, because there was nothing
to fix them on, in all that work wherein
Christ himself was wanting.
But the truly believing soul that is brought
unto Jesus Christ, and fastened upon him
by God's own hand, abides staid on him,
and departs not. And in these, the very
belief of the things that are spoken concern-
ing Christ in the gospel, their persuasion of
divine truth, is of a higher nature than the
common consent that is called historical —
another knowledge and evidence of the mys-
teries of the kingdom, than natural men
can have. This is indeed the ground of all,
the very thing that causes a man to rest
upon Christ, when he hath a persuasion
wrought in his heart by the Spirit of God,
that Christ is an able Redeemer, a suffi-
cient Saviour, able to save all that come to
him, Heb. vii. 25. Then upon this, the
heart resolves upon that course : Seeing I
am persuaded of this, that whoso believes in
Him shall not perish, but have everlasting
life ; or, as it is here, shall not be confound-
ed ; I am to deliberate no longer, this is the
thing I must do, I must lay my soul upon
Him, upon one who is an Almighty Re-
deemer ; and it does so. Now, these first
actings of faith have in themselves an evi-
dence that distinguishes them from all that
is counterfeit, a light of their own, by which
the soul wherein they are may discern them,
and say, " This is the right work of faith,"
especially when God shines upon the soul,
and clears it in the discovery of his own
work within it.
And farther, they may find the influence
of faith upon the affections, purifying them,
as our apostle says of it, Acts xv. 9. Faith
knits the heart to a holy Head, a pure Lord,
the spring of purity ; and therefore cannot
choose but make it pure ; it is a beam from
heaven that raises the mind to a heavenly
temper. Although there are remains of sin
in a believing soul, yet it is a hated weari-
some guest there. It is not there as its de-
light, but as its greatest grief, and malady ;
of that it is still lamenting and complaining,
and had rather be rid of it than gain a world.
Thus it is purified from affecting sin.
_ So where these are, a spiritual apprehen-
sion of the promises, and a cleaving of the
soul unto Christ, and such a delight in him.
as makes sin vile and distasteful, so that the
heart is set against it, and, as the needle
[CHAP. n.
touched with the loadstone, is still turned
towards Christ, and looks at him in all
estates : The soul that is thus disposed, hath
certainly interest in him ; and therefore
ought not to affect an humour of doubting,
but to conclude, that how unworthy soever
in itself, yet being in him, it shall not be
ashamed : Not only it shall never have cause
to think shame of him, but all its just cause
of shame in itself shall be taken away ;
it shall be covered with his righteousness,
and appear so before the Father. Who must
not think, " If my sins were to be set in
order, and appear against me, how would
my face be filled with shame ! Though
there were no more, if some thoughts that I
am guilty of were laid to my charge, I were
utterly ashamed and undone. Oh ! there is
nothing in myself but matter of shame ; but
yet in Christ more matter of glorying, who
endured shame, that we might not be asham-
ed. We cannot distrust ourselves enough,
nor trust enough in him. Let it be right
faith, and there is no excess in believing.
Though I have sinned against him, and
abused his goodness, yet I will not leave
him ; for whither should I go 9 he, and
none but he, hath the words of eternal life,
John vi. 68. Yea, though he, being so
often offended, should threaten to leave me
to the shame of my own follies, yet I will
stay by him, and wait for a better answer,
and I know I shall obtain it ; this assurance
being given me for my comfort, that whoso-
ever believes in him shall not be ashamed.
VKR. 7. Unto you, therefore, which believe, he is
precious ; but unto them who be disobedient, the
Stone which the builders disallowed, the same is
made the head of the comer,
VBR. 8. And a stone of stumbling, and a rock of
offence, even to them which stumble at the word ;
being disobedient, whereunto also they were ap-
pointed.
BESIDES all the opposition that meets
faith within, in our hearts, it hath this
without, that it rows against the great stream
of the world's opinion ; and therefore hath
need, especially where it is very tender and
weak, to be strengthened against that. The
multitude of unbelievers, and the conside-
rable quality of many of them in the world,
are continuing causes of that very multitude :
and the fewness of them that truly believe,
doth much to the keeping of them still few :
And "as this prejudice prevails with them
that believe not, so it may sometimes assault
the mind of a believer, when he thinks how
many, and many of them wise men in the
world, reject Christ. Whence can this be ?
Particularly the believing Jews, to whom this
epistle is addressed, might think it strange
that not only the Gentiles that were strangers
to true religion, but their own nation, that
was tlie select people of God, and had the
light of his oracbs, kept in amongst them
vrn. 7,
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
37
< n ly, should yet so many of them, yea, and
the chief of them, be despisers and haters of
J esus Christ ; and that they that were best
versed in the law, and so seemed best able
to judge of the Messiah foretold, should
have persecuted Christ all his life, and at
last put him to a shameful death.
That they may know, this makes- nothing
Against him, nor ought to invalidate their
feith at all, but rather indeed testifies with
Christ, and so serves to confirm them in be-
lieving, the apostle makes use of those pro-
phetical scriptures, that foretell the unbelief
and contempt with which the most would en-
tertain Christ : as old Simeon speaks of him,
when he was come agreeably to these former
predictions, That he should be a sign of con-
tradiction, Luke iL 34 ; as he was the pro-
mised sign of salvation to believers, eo he
should be a very mark of enmities and con-
tradictions to the unbelieving world ; the
places the apostle here useth, suit with his
present discourse, and the words cited from
Isaiah in the former verse, continuing the
resemblance of a corner-stone ; they are
partly taken from Ps. cxviii. partly out of the
eighth chapter of Isaiah.
Unto you, &c.] Wonder not that others
.refuse him, but believe the more for that, be-
cause you see the word to be true, even in
their not believing of it ; it is fulfilled and
verified by their very rejecting it as false.
And whatsoever are the world's thoughts
concerning Christ, that imports not ; for they
know him not : But you that do indeed be-
.lieve, I dare appeal to yourselves, your own
faith that you have of him, whether he is not
precious to you, if you do not really find him
fully answerable to all that is spoken of him
in the word, and to all that you have accord-
ingly believed concerning him.
We are here, 1. To consider the opposi-
.tion of the persons : And then, 2. Of the
things spoken of them.
1. For the opposition of the persons, they
are opposed under the name of believers, and
disobedient, or unbelievers ; for the word is
so near that it may be taken for unbelief, and
it is by some so rendered : And the thing!
are fully as near, as the words that signify
them, disobedience and unbelief. 1. Unbe-
lief is itself the grand disobedience. For
this is the work of God, that which the gos-
pel mainly commands, John vi. 29, that ye
believe ; therefore the apostle calls it the obe-
dience of faith, Rom. i. 5. And there is
nothing indeed more worthy the name of obe-
dience, tlian the subjection of the mind to
receive and believe those supernatural truths
that the gospel teaches concerning Jesus
Christ. To obey, so as to have, as the apos-
tle speaks, the impression of that divine
pattern stamped upon the heart, to have th
heart delivered up, as the word there is, anc
laid under it, to receive it, Rom. vi. 17-
The word here used for disobedience, signi-
fies properly unpersuasion ; and nothing
can more properly express the nature of un-
belief than that ; and it is the very nature
of our corrupt hearts : We are children of
disobedience, OT unpersuasibleness, Eph. ii.
2, altogether incredulous towards God, who is
truth itself, and pliable as wax in Satan's
hand ; he works in such what he will, as
there the apostle expresses. They are most
easy of belief to him that is the very father
of lies, as our Saviour calls him, a liar and
a murderer from the beginning, John viii.
44, murdering by lies, as he did in the be-
ginning.
2. Unbelief is radically all other disobe-
dience ; for all flows from unbelief. This
we least of all suspect ; but it is the bitter
root of all that ungodliness that abounds
amongst us. A right and lively persuasion
of the heart concerning Jesus Christ, alters
the whole frame of it, casts down its high
lofty imaginations, and brings not only the
outward actions, but the very thoughts, unto
the obedience of Christ, 2 Cor. x. 5.
II. As for the things spoken concerning
these disobedient unbelievers, these two tes-
timonies taken together have in them these
things: 1. Their rejection of Christ. 2. Their
folly. 3. Their misery in so doing.
1. Their rejection of Christ; they did not
receive him as the Father appointed and de-
signed him, as the foundation and chief cor-
ner-stone, but slighted him, and threw him
by as unfit for the building ; and this did
not only the ignorant multitude, but the
builders ; they that professed to have the
skill, and the office or power of building, the
doctors of the law, the scribes, and pharisees,
and chief priests, who thought to carry the
matter by the weight of their authority, as
over-balancing the belief of those that follow-
ed Christ : " Have any of the rulers believed
in him ? But this people who know not the
law are cursed," John vii. 48, 49.
We need not wonder then, that not only
the powers of the world are usually enemies
to Christ, and that the contrivers of policies,
those builders, leave out Christ in their
building, but that the pretended builders o*
the church of God, though they use the name
of Christ, and serve their turn with that, yet
reject himself, and oppose the power of his
spiritual kingdom. There may be wit and
learning, and much knowledge of the scrip,
tures, amongst those that are haters of the
Lord Christ and the power of godliness, and
corrupters of the worship of God. It is the
spirit of humility, and obedience, and saving
faith, that teaches men to esteem Christ and
build upon him.
2. But the vanity and folly of those build-
ers' opinion appears in this, that they are
overpowered by the great Architect of the
Church ; his purpose stands ; not withstand-
88
A COMMENTARY UPON
ing their rejection of Christ, he is still made
the head corner-stons. They cast him away
by their miscensures and reproaches put up-
on him, and by giving him up to be cruci-
fied, and then cast into the grave, and ap-
pointing a stone to be rolled upon this Stone,
which they had so rejected, that it might
appear no more, and so thought themselves
sure : But even from thence did he arise,
and became the head of the corner. The
disciples themselves spake, you know, very
doubtfully of their former hopes, " We be-
lieved this had been He that would have de-
livered Israel ;" but he corrected their mis-
take, first by his word, shewing them the
true method of that great work, " Ought not
Christ first to suffer these things, and so en-
ter into glory ?" Luke xxiv. 21 — 26. And
then really, by making himself known to
them, as risen from the dead. When he
was by these rejected, and lay lowest, then
he was nearest his exaltation ; as Joseph in
the prison was nearest his preferment. And
thus is it with the Church of Christ ; when
it is brought to the lowest and most despe-
rate condition, then is deliverance at hand ;
it prospers and gains in the event, by all the
practices of men against it. And as this
corner-stone was fitted to be so, by the very
rejection, even so is it with the whole build-
ing ; it rises the higher the more men seek
to demolish it.
3. The misery of them that believe not
is expressed in the other word, " He is to
them a stone of stumbling and a rock of of-
fence ;" because they will not be saved by
him, they shall stumble and fall, and be
broken to pieces on him, as it is in Isaiah,
and in the Evangelists : But how is this ?
Is He that came to save, become a destroyer
of men ? He whose name is Salvation,
proves he destruction to any ? He does not
prove such in himself; his primary and pro-
per use is the former, to be a foundation for
souls to build and rest upon : But they that,
instead of building upon him, will stumble
and fall on him, what wonder, being so firm
a^stone, though they be broken by their fall !
Thus we see the mischief of unbelief, that as
other sins disable the law, it disables the
very gospel to save us, and turns life itself
into death to us. And this is the misery,
not of a few, but of many in Israel ; many
that hear of Christ, by the preaching of the
gospel, shall lament that ever they heard that
sound, and shall wish to have lived and
died without it ; finding so great an acces-
sion to their misery, by the neglect of so
great salvation. They are said to stumble
at the word, because the things that are
therein testified concerning Christ, they la-
bour not to understand and prize aright • but
either altogether slight them, and account
them foolishness, or misconceive and pervert
than.
The Jews stumbled at the meanness of
Christ's birth and life, and the ignominy of
his death ; not judging of him according to
the scriptures ; and we in another way think
we have some kind of belief, that he is the
Saviour of the world ; yet not making the
scripture the rule of our thoughts concerning
him, many of us undo ourselves, and stum-
ble and break our necks upon this rock, mis-
taking Christ and the way of believing ;
looking on him as a Saviour at large, and
judging that enough, not endeavouring to
make him ours, and to embrace him upon
the arms of that new covenant whereof he
is Mediator.
Whereunto also they were appointed.]
This the apostle adds for the further satis-
faction of believers in this point, how it is
that so many reject Christ, and stumble at
him ; telling them plainly, that the secret
purpose of God is accomplished in this, hav-
ing determined to glorify his justice on im-
penitent sinners, as he shews his rich mercy
in them that believe. Here it were easier to
lead you into a deep, than to leaa you forth
again. I will rather stand on the shore, and
silently admire it, than enter into it. This
is certain, that the thoughts of God are all
no less just in themselves than deep and un-
soundable by us. His justice appears clear,
in that man's destruction is always the fruit
of his own sin : But to give causes of God's
decrees without himself, is neither agreeable
with the primitive being of the nature of
God, nor with the doctrine of the scriptures ;
this is sure, that God is not bound to give
us further account of these things, and we
are bound not to ask it. Let these two
words (as St. Augustine says) answer all,
What art thou, O man ? Rom. ix. 20.
And, O the depth ! Rom. xi. 33.
Our only sure way to know that our names
are not in that black line, and to be persuad-
ed that he hath chosen us to be saved by
his Son, is this, to. find that we have chosen
him, and are built on him by faith, which is
the fruit of His love that first chooseth us :
And that we may read in our esteem of him.
He is precious,} or your honour. The
difference is small ; you account him your
glory, and your gain ; he is not only prec ious
to you, but preciousness itself. He is the
thing that you make account of, your jewel,
which if you keep, though you be robbed of all
besides, you know yourselves toberich enough.
To you that believe.] Faith is absolutely
necessary to make this due estimate of Christ.
1. The most excellent things, while their
worth is undiscerned and unknown, affect us
not : Now, faith is the proper seeing fa-
culty of the soul, in relation to Christ ; that
inward light must be infused from above, to
make Christ visible to us ; without it, though
he is beautiful, yet we are blind, and there-
foie cannot love him for that beauty. Buf
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
89
by faith we are enabled to see Him that is
fairer than the children of men, Psal. xlv.
2, yea, to see in him the glory of the only-be-
gotten Son of God, John i. 14, and then it is
not possible but to account him precious,
and to bestow the entire affection of our
hearts upon him. And if any say to the
soul. What is thy beloved more than ano-
ther ? Cant. iii. 9, it willingly lays hold
on the question, and is glad of an opportu-
nity to extol him.
2. Faith, as it is that which discerns
Christ, so it alone appropriates, or make!
him our own. These are the two reasons of
esteeming and affecting any thing, its own
worth, and our interest in it ; and faith be-
gets this esteem of Christ by both : first, il
discovers to us his excellencies, that we could
not see before ; and then it makes him ours,
gives us possession of whole Christ, all that
he hath, and is. As it is faith that com-
mends Christ so much, and describes his
comeliness in that Song, that word is the voice
of faith, that expresses propriety, my Well-
beloved is mine, and I am his, Cant. ii. 16 ;
and these together make him most precious
to the soul. Having once possession of
him, then it looks upon all his sufferings as
endured particularly for it, and the benefit of
them all as belonging to itself. Sure it will
Bay, " Can I choose but account Him pre-
cious, that suffered shame that I might not
be ashamed ; and suffered death that I might
not die ; that took that bitter cup of the Fa-
ther's wrath, and drunk it out, that I might
be free from it ?"
Think not that you believe, if your hearts
be not taken up with Christ, if his love do
not possess your soul, so that nothing is pre-
cious to you in respect of him ; if you cannot
despise and trample upon all advantages that
either you have or would have, for Christ,
and count them, with the great apostle, loss
and dung in comparison of him, Phil. iii.
8. And if you do esteem him, labour for
increase of faith, that you may esteem him
more ; for as faith grows, so will he still be
more precious to you. And if you would
have it grow, turn that spiritual eye fre-
quently to him that is the proper object oJ
it ; for even they that are believers may pos-
sibly abate of their love and esteem of Christ,
by suffering faith to lie dead within them,
and not using it in beholding and applying
of Christ. And the world, or some particu-
lar vanities, may insensibly creep in, and get
into the heart, and cost them much pains
ere they can be thrust out again. But when
they are daily reviewing those excellencie;
that are in Christ, which first persuaded their
hearts to love him, and discovering still more
and more of them, his love will certainly
grow, and will chase away those follies that
the world dotes upon, as unworthy to be taken
notice of by such a soul.
VBR. 9. But ye are a choser generation, a loyii
priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people;
that ye should shew forth the praises of him who
hath called you out of darkness into his marvel-
lous light.
IT is matter of very much consolation and
instruction to Christians to know their own
estate, what they are, as they are Christians.
This epistle is much and often upon this
point for both those ends ; that the reflect-
ing on their dignities in Christ, may uphold
them with comfort under suffering for him ;
and also that it may lead them in doing and
walking as becomes such a condition. Here
it hath been represented to us by a building,
a spiritual temple, and by a priesthood con-
formable to it.
The former is confirmed and illustrated
by testimonies of Scripture in the preceding
verses ; the latter in this verse, in which,
though it is not expressly cited, yet it is clear
that the apostle hath reference to Exod. xix.
5, 6, where this dignity of priesthood, to-
jether with the other titles here expressed, is
ascribed to all the chosen people of God. It
s there a promise made to the nation of the
Jews, but under the condition of obedience ;
and therefore is most fitly here applied by
the apostle to the believing Jews, to whom
particularly he writes.
It is true, that the external priesthood of
the law is abolished by the coming of this
great High-Priest ; Jesus Christ being the
body of all those shadows : But this pro-
mised dignity of spiritual priesthood, -48 so
far from being annulled by Christ, that it is
altogether dependent on him ; and therefore
fails in those that reject Christ, although
they be of that nation to which this promise
was made. But it holds good in all, of all
nations that believe, and particularly, say*
the apostle, it is verified in you. You that
are believing Jews, by receiving Christ, do
also receive this dignity.
As the legal priesthood was removed by
Christ's fulfilling all that it prefigured, so he
was rejected by them that were at his coming
in possession of that office ; as the standing
of that their priesthood was inconsistent
with the revealing of Jesus Christ ; so they
that were then in it, being ungodly men,
their carnal minds had a kind of antipathy
against him. Though they pretended them,
selves builders of the Church, and by their
calling ought to have been so, yet they threw
away the foundation-stone that God had
chosen and designed ; and in rejecting it,
manifested that they themselves were rejected
of God : But on the contrary, you that have
laid your souls on Christ by believing, have
this your choosing him as a certain evi-
dence, that God hath chosen you to be his
peculiar people, yea to be so dignified, as to
be a kingly priesthood, through Christ.
We have here to consider, 1. The estate
of Christians, in the words that here «le»
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. ir.
Kcribe it. 2. The opposition of it to the
itate of unbelievers. 3. The end of it.
1. The state of Christians, a chosen ge-
neration.} Psal. xxiv. The Psalmist there
speaks, first of God's universal sovereignty,
then of his peculiar choice ; The earth is
the Lord's : But there is a select company,
appointed for this holy mountain, described ;
and the description is closed thus, This is
the generation of them that seek him. Thus
Deut. x. 14, 15. So Exod. xix. 5, whence
this is taken ; for all the earth is mine, and
that nation, which is a figure of the elect of
all nations, God's peculiar, beyond all others
in the world. As men that have great va-
riety of possessions, yet have usually their
special delight in some one beyond the rest,
and choose to reside most in it, and bestow
most expense on it, to make it pleasant :
thus doth the Lord of the whole earth choose
out to himself from the rest of the world, a
number that are a chosen generation.
Choosing here, is the work of effectual call-
ing, or severing of believers from the rest ; for
it signifies a difference in their present estate,
as do likewise the other words joined with it.
But this election is altogether conformable to
that of God's eternal decree, and is no other
but the execution or performance of it ; God's
framing of this his building, just according
to the idea of it which was in his mind anil
purpose before all time ; the drawing forth and
investing of such into this Christian, this
kingly priesthood, whose names were express-
ly written up for it in the book of life.
Generation.} This imports them to be
of one race or stock, as the Israelites, who
were by outward calling the chosen of God,
were all the seed of Abraham according to
the flesh : So they that believe in the Lore
Jesus, are children of the promise, (Gal.
iv. 28,) and all of them by their new birth,
one people or generation. They are of one
nation, belonging to the same blessed lane
of promise, all citizens of the new Jerusalem
yea, all children of the same family, whereo
Jesus Christ, the Root of Jesse, is the stock,
who is the great King, and the great High-
Priest. And thus they are a royal priest
hood. There is no devolving of his royalty
or priesthood on any other, as it is in him
self for his proper dignity is supreme ant
incommunicable, and there is no successior
in his order, he lives for ever, and is Pries
for ever, Psal. ex. 4, and King for ever too
Psal. xlv. 6 ; but they that are descendet
from him, to derive from him by that new
original this double dignity, in that way
that they are capable of it, to be likewise
Kings and priests as he is both. They are
of the seed-royal, and of the holy seed of the
priesthood, inasmuch as they partake of a
new life from Christ : first there is his own
dignity expressed, then his dignifying us
tj'Jois himself the first-begotten among the
lead, and the Prince of the kings of the
earth, Rev. i. 5, and then, as follows, ver.
>, hath made us kings and priests unto
3 d the Father.
A royal priesthood.} That the dignity
if believers is expressed by these two toge-
her, by priesthood and royalty, teaches us
he worth and excellency of that holy func-
ion taken properly ; and so, by analogy,
he dignity of the ministry of the gospel
which God hath placed in his Church, in-
stead of die priesthood of the law ; for there-
fore doth this title of spiritual priesthood
itly signify a great privilege and honour
hat Christians are promoted to, and is join-
:d with that of kings, because the proper of-
ice of priesthood was so honourable. Be-
'ore it was established in one family, the
chief, the first-born of each family had right
o this, as a special honour ; and amongst
the heathens in some places, their princes
and greatest men, yea, their kings, were their
priests, and universally the performing of
:heir holy things, was an employment of
*reat honour and esteem amongst them.
Though human ambition hath strained this
;onsideration too high, to the favouring and
founding of a monarchial prelacy in the
Christian world, yet that abuse of it ought
not to prejudge us of this due and just con-
sequence from it, that the holy functions of
God's house have very much honour and
dignity in them. And the apostle, we see,
2 Cor. iii. prefers the ministry of the gospel
to the priesthood of the law. So then they
mistake much that think it a disparagement
to men that have some advantage of birth or
wit more than ordinary, to bestow them thus,
and judge the meanest persons and things
good enough for this high calling. Sure this
conceit cannot have place, but in an unholy,
irreligious mind, that hath either very mean
thoughts of God, or none. If they that ara
called to this holy service, would themselves
consider this aright, it would not pufF them
up, but humble them ; comparing their own
worthlessness with this great work, they
would wonder at God's dispensation, that
should thus have honoured them, as St.
Paul in this connexion speaks of himself, as
less than the least of all saints, Eph. iii. 8.
So the more a man rightly extols this his
calling, the more he humbles himself under
the weight of it, which should make minis,
ters very careful to walk more suitably to it
in eminency of holiness ; for in that consists
the true dignity of it.
There is no doubt that this kingly priest,
hood is the common dignity of all believers,
this honour have all the saints ; they are
kings, have victory and dominion given
them over the powers of darkness, and the
lusts of their own hearts, that held them
captive, and domineered o;er them before.
Base slavish lusts, not born to command,
PER. 9.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
.01
yet are the hard task -masters ef unrenewed
minds ; and there is no true subduing them,
but by the power and Spirit of Christ. They
may be quiet for a while in a natural man,
but they are then but asleep ; as soon as
they awake again, they return to hurry, and
drive him with their wonted violence. Now,
this is the benefit of receiving the kingdom
of Christ into a man's heart, that it makes
him a king himself. All the subjects of
Christ are kings, not only in regard of that
pure crown of glory they hope for, and shall
certainly attain ; but in the present, they
have a kingdom, that is the pledge of that
other, overcoming the world and Satan and
themselves, by the power of faith. Mens
bona regnum possidet, it is true ; but there
is no mind truly good, but that wherein
Christ dwells. There is not any kind of
spirit in the world so noble as that spirit
that is in a Christian, the very Spirit
Jesus Christ, that great King, the Spirit of
glory, as our apostle calls it below, chap. iv.
This is a sure way to ennoble the basest and
poorest among us ; this royalty takes away
ail attainders, and leaves nothing of all that
is past to be laid to our charge, or to disho-
nour us.
They are not shut out from God, as they
were before ; but being in Christ are brought
near unto him, and have free access to the
throne of his grace, Heb. x. 21, 22. They
resemble in their spiritual state the legal
priesthood very clearly, 1. In their consecra-
tion : 2. In their service : and 3. In their
laws of living.
1st, In their consecration. The Leviti-
cal priests were washed ; therefore this is
expressed, Rev. i. 5, He hath washed us
in his own blood, and then it follows, made
us kinffs and priests. There was no coming
near unto God in his holy services as his
priests, unless we were cleansed from the
guiltiness and pollution of our sins. This
that pure and purging blood doth, and it
alone : No other lava can do it ; no water
but that fountain opened for sin and for
tincleanness, Zech. xiii. 1. No blood, none
of all that blood of legal sacrifices, Heb. ix.
12, but only the blood of that spotless Lamb
that takes au-ay the sins of the world, John
i. 29. So with this, 2. We have that other
ceremony of the priest's consecration, which
was by sacrifice, as well as by washing ; for
Christ at once offered up himself as our sa-
crifice, and let out his blood for our washing,
and with good reason is that prefixed there,
Rev. i. 5, He hath loved us, and then it
follows, washed vs in his blood. That
precious stream of his heart-blood that flow-
ed, for our washing, told clearly that it was
a heart full of unspeakable love that was the
source of it. 3. There is anointing, name-
ly, the graces of the Spirit conferred upon
believers, flowing unto them from Christ :
For it is of his fulness that we all receive
grace for grace, John i. 16 ; and the apostle
St. Paul says, 2 Cor. i. 21, that we are
established and anointed in Christ : It
was poured on him as our Head, and runs
down from him unto us. He is Christ and
we are Christians, as partakers of his anoint,
ing. The consecrating oil of the priests was
made of the richest ointments and spices, to
shew the preciousness of the graces of God's
Spirit that are bestowed on those spiritual
priests ; and as that holy oil was not for
common use, nor for any other persons to be
anointed withal, save the priests only, so is
the Spirit of grace a peculiar gift to be-
lievers. Others might have costly ointments
amongst the Jews, but none of that same
sort with the consecration oil. Natural men
may have very great gifts of judgment, and
learning, and eloquence, and moral virtues ;
but they have none of this precious oil,
namely, the Spirit of Christ communicated
to them : No, all their endowments are but
common and profane. That holy oil signi-
fied particularly eroinency of light and know-
ledge in the priests ; therefore in Christians
there must be light. They that are grossly
ignorant of spiritual things, are surely not of
this order ; this anointing is said to teach
us all things, 1 John ii. 27- That holy
oil was of a most fragrant sweet smell, by
reason of its precious composition ; but much
more sweet is the smell of that Spirit where-
with believers are anointed ; those several
odoriferous graces, that are the ingredients
of their anointing oil, that heavenly-minded-
ness, and meekness, and patience, and hu-
mility, and the rest, that diffuse a pleasant
scent into the places and societies where they
come ; their words, actions, and their deport-
ment, smelling sweet of them. 4. Their
garments wherein they were inaugurated,
and which they were after to wear in their
services, are outshined by that purity and
holiness wherewith all the saints are adorn-
ed ; but more by that imputed righteousness
of Christ, those pure robes that are put upon
them, wherein they appear before the Lord,
and are accepted in his sight. These priests
are indeed clothed with righteousness, ac-
cording to that of the Psalmist, Psal.
cxxxii. 9.
5. They were to have the offerings put
into their hands ; from thence, filling of the
hand, signifies consecrating to the priest-
hood. And thus doth Jesus Christ, that is
the consecrator of these priests, put into their
hands by his Spirit these offerings they are
to present unto God. He furnishes them
with prayers and praises, and all other obla-
tions that are to be offered by them ; he gives
them themselves, that they are to offer a liv-
ing sacrifice, rescuing them from the usurped
possession of Satan and sin.
2c//</, Let us consider their services, which
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. ij.
were divers: to name tne chief, 1. They
had charge of the sanctuary, and the vessels
of it, and the lights, and were to keep the
lamps burning. Thus the heart of every
Christian is made a temple to the Holy
Ghost, and he himself, as a priest, conse-
crated unto God, is to keep it diligently,
and the furniture of divine grace in it ; to
have the light of spiritual knowledge within
him, and to nourish it by drawing conti-
nually new supplies from Jesus Christ. 2.
They were to bless the people, and truly it
is this spiritual priesthood, the elect, that
procure blessings upon the rest of the world,
and particularly on the places where they
live ; they are daily to offer the incense of
prayer, and other spiritual sacrifices unto
God, as the apostle expresseth it above, ver.
5, not to neglect those holy exercises, toge-
ther and apart. And as the priests offered
not only for themselves, but for the people ;
thus Christians are to extend their prayers,
and entreat the blessings of God for others,
especially for the public estate of the church.
As the Lord's priests, they are to offer up
those praises to God, that are his due from
the other creatures ; which praise him in-
deed, yet cannot do it after that manner, as
these priests do. Therefore they are to offer
as it were their sacrifices for them as the
priests did for the people, and because the
most of men neglect to do this, and cannot
do it indeed because they are unholy, and
not of this priesthood ; therefore should they
be so much the more careful of it, and dili-
gent in it. How few of these, whom the
heavens call to by their light and revolution
that they enjoy, do offer that sacrifice which
becomes them by acknowledging the glory
of God which the heavens declare, Psal.
xix. 1. This, therefore, is as it were put
into the hands of these priests, namely the
godly, to do.
3dly, Let us consider their course of life.
We shall find rules given to the legal priests
stricter than to others, of avoiding legal pol-
lutions, &c. And from these this spiritual
priesthood must learn an exact holy conversa-
tion, keeping themselves from die pollutions
of the world, as here it follows, a holy na-
tion, and that of necessity ; if a priesthood,
then holy : Purchased indeed to be a pe-
culiar treasure to God, as Exod. xix. 5, at a
very high rate. He spared not his only Son,
nor did the Son spare himself: so that these
priests ought to be the Lord's peculiar por-
tion. All believers are his clergy ; and as
they are his portion, so he is theirs. The
priests had no assigned inheritance among
their brethren, and the reason is added, for
the Lord is their portion ; and truly so they
needed not envy any of the rest, they had
the choicest of all, the Lord of all. What-
soever a Christian possesses in the world,
Fet being of this spiritual priesthood, he is
as if he possessed It not, 1 Cor. vii. 30, lays
little account on it : That which his mind
is set on, is, how he may enjoy God, and
find clear assurance that he hath him for his
portion.
It is not so mean a thing to be a Chris,
tian, as we think ; it is a holy, an honoura-
ble, a happy estate : Few of us can esteem
it, or do labour to find it so. No, we know
not these things, our hearts are not on them,
to make this dignity and happiness sure un-
to our souls. Where is that true greatness
of mind and holiness to be found, that be-
comes those that are kings and priests unto
God ? that contempt of earthly tilings, and
minding of heaven, that should be in such ?
But sure, as many as find themselves indeed
partakers of these dignities, will study to live
agreeably to them, and will not fail to love
that Lord Jesus who hath purchased all this
for them, and exalted them to it ; yea, hum-
bled himself to exalt them.
2. We proceed to the opposition of the
estate of Christians to that of unbelievers.
We best discern and are most sensible of the
evil and good of things, by comparison. In
outward condition how many be there that
are vexing themselves with causeless mur-
murings and discontents, that if they would
look upon the many in the world that are in
a far meaner condition than they, it would
cure that evil, and make them not only con-
tent, but cheerful and thankful. But the
difference here expressed is far greater and
more considerable than any that can be in out-
ward things. Though the estate of a Chris-
tian is very excellent and precious, and, right-
ly valued, hath enough in itself to commend
it, yet it doth and ought to raise our esteem
of it the higher, when we compare it both
with the misery of our former condition, and
the continuing misery of those that abide
still, and are left to 'perish in that woeful
estate. We have here both these parallels.
The happiness and dignity to which they
are chosen and called, is opposed to the re-
jection and misery of them that continue un-
believers and rejecters of Christ.
Not only natural men, but even they that
have a spiritual life in them ; yet when they
forget themselves, are subject to look upon
the things that are before them with a natu-
ral eye, and to think hardly, or at least
doubtfully, concerning God's dispensation ;
beholding the flourishing and prosperities of
the ungodly, together with their own suffer-
ings and distresses, thus, Psal. Ixxiii. &c.
But when they turn the other side of the
medal, and view them with a righf eye, and
by a true light, they are no longer abused
with those appearances. When they con-
sider unbelievers as strangers, yea, enemiet
to God, and slaves to Satan, held fast in the
chains of their own impenitency and unbe-
lief, and by those bound over to eternal death ;
VER. {?.
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
93
and then see themselves called to the liber-
ties and dignities of the sons of God, par-
takers of the honour of the only-begotten Son
on whom they have believed, made by him
kings and priests unto God the Father,
then sure they have other thoughts. It
makes them no more envy, but pity the un-
godly, and account all their pomp, and all
their possessions, what it is indeed, no other
but a glistering mystery, and themselves
happy in all estates. It makes them to say
with David, " the lines have fallen to me in
a pleasant place, I have a goodly heritage."
It makes them digest all their sufferings and
disgraces with patience, yea with joy, and
think more of praising than complaining, of
shewing forth His honour who hath so ho-
noured them ; especially considering the free-
ness of his grace, that it was that alone made
the difference, calling them altogether unde-
servedly from that same darkness and misery
in which unbelievers are deservedly left.
Now the third thing here to be spoken to,
is the end of their calling, to shew his praise,
&c. And that we may the more prize the
reasonableness of that their happy estate to
which God hath exalted them, it is express-
ed in other terms, which therefore we will
first consider, and then the end.
To magnify the grace of God the more,
we have here, 1. Both the terms of this
motion, or change from whence, and to what
it is ; 2. The principle of it, the calling of
God.
I. For the terms of this motion : 1. The
term from whence it is, From darkness.
There is nothing more usual, not only in
divine but in human writings, than to bor-
row outward sensible things to express things
intellectual ; and amongst such expressions
there is none more frequent than that of Ugh
and darkness, transferred to signify the good
and evil estate of man : As sometimes for
his outward prosperity or adversity, but
especially for things proper to his mind, the
mind is called light, because the seat of truth,
and truth is most fitly called light, being the
chief beauty of the rational world, as light is
of the visible. And as the light, because o:
that its beauty, is a thing very refreshing an
comfortable to them that behold it, as Solo-
mon says, It is a pleasant thing to see the
sun ,• so is truth a most delightful thing to
the soul that rightly apprehends it.
This may help us to conceive of the spi-
ritual sense in which it is here taken* Th
estate of lost mankind, is indeed nothing but
darkness, being destitute of all spiritual truth
and comfort, tending to utter and everlasting
darkness.
And it is so, because by sin the soul is se-
parate from God, who is the first and high-
est light, that primitive truth, as he is ligh
in himself: As the apostle St. John tells
us, God is light, and in him there is no
darkness at all ; expressing t.ie excellency
and purity of his nature : so he is light rela-
ively to the soul of man, Psal. xxvii. The
Lord is my light, says David.
And the soul being made capable of divine
ight, cannot be happy without it : Give it
what other light yon will, still it is in dark-
ness, so long as it is without God, being the
>eculiar light and life of the soul. And as
ruth is united with the soul in apprehend-
ng it, and light with the visive faculty, so
hat the soul may have God as its light, it
must of necessity be in union with God.
Sow sin hath broke that union, and so cut
off the soul from its light, and plunged it
nto spiritual darkness.
Hence all that confusion and disorder in
;he soul which is ever the companion of
darkness, Tohu vahohu, as at first, when
Darkness teas upon the face of the deep,
Gen. i. 2. Being ignorant of God, and of
ourselves, it follows that we love not God,
because we knorv him not : Yea, though we
think it a hard word, we are haters of God ;
Tor not only doth our darkness import igno-
rance of him, but an enmity to him, because
tie is light, and we are darkness. And being
ignorant of ourselves, not seeing our own
vileness, because we are in the dark, we are
pleased with ourselves ; and having left God,
do love ourselves instead of God. Hence
are all the wickednesses of our hearts and
lives, which are no other but, instead of obey-
ing and pleasing God, a continual sa.crific-
ing to those gillulim, those base dunghill,
gods, our own lusts. For this the apostle
gives as the root of all those evils, 2 Tim. iii.
2, covetous boasters, &c. Because in the
first place, lovers of themselves, therefore
proud, &c. and lovers of pleasures more
than of God ; and this self-love cannot sub-
sist without gross ignorance, minds so dark-
ened that we cannot withal see what we are :
For if we did, it were not possible but *.ve
would be far of another mind, very far out
of loving and liking with ourselves. Thus
our souls being filled with darkness are like-
wise full of uncleanness, as that goes along
too with darkness ; they are not only dark as
dungeons, but withal filthy as dungeons use
to be. So Eph. iv. 18, " Understandings
darkened, alienated from the life of God ;"
and therefore it is added, ver. 19, they "give
themselves over unto lasciviousness, to w, rk
all uncleanness with greediness." Again, in
this state they have no light of solid com-
fort. Our great comfort here is not in any
thing present, but in hope ; now, being with-
out Christ and without God, we are without
hope," Eph. ii. 12.
And as the estate from whence we arc
called by grace, is worthily called darkness ;
so, 2dly, that to which it calls us deserves as
well the name of light. As Christ likewise,
that came to work our deliverance, ib fre-
A COMMENTARY UPON
94
quently so called in scripture, John i. 9, and
elsewhere, not only in regard of his own
nature, being God equal with the Father,
and therefore light as he is God of God, and
therefore Light of light ,• but relative to
men, John i. 4, that light was the light of
men ; as he is styled the Word and Wis-
dom of the Father, not only in regard of his
own knowledge, but as revealing him unto
us, John i. 18 ; 1 Cor. i. 24, compared with
ver. 30 ; and he is styled by Malachi, iv. 2,
the Sun of righteousness. Now, the sun is
not only a luminous body, but a luminary,
giving light unto the world, Gen. i. 15.
He is our light, opposed to all kind of
darkness, to the dark shadows of the cere-
monial law, which possibly are here meant,
as part of that darkness, from which the
apostle writes that these Jews were delivered
also by the knowledge of Christ : When he
come, the day broke, and the shadows flew
away. He is likewise opposed to the dark-
ness of the Gentile superstitions and idola-
tries ; therefore these two are joined by old
Simeon, Luke ii. 32, " A light to lighten the
Gentiles, and the glory of his people Israel,"
And to all of both that believe, he is light,
opposed to the ignorance, slavery and misery
of their natural estate, teaching them by his
Spirit the things of God, and re-uniting them
with God, who is the light of the soul. " I
am, (says he,) the light of the world, he
that follows me shall not walk in darkness,"
John viii. 12.
And it is that mysterious union of the soul
with God in Christ, which a natural man so
little understands, that is the cause of all
that spiritual light of grace that a believer
does enjoy. There is no right knowledge
of God, to man once fallen from it, but in
his Son ; no comfort in beholding God, but
through him ; nothing but just anger and
wrath to be seen in God's looks, but through
him, in whom he is well pleased. The gos-
pel shews us the light of the knowledge of
God, 2 Cor. iv. 6, but it is in the face of
Jesus Christ : therefore thekingdom of light,
opposed to that of darkness, Col. i. 1 3, is
called the kingdom of his dear Son, or the
Son of his love.
There is a spirit of light and knowledge
flows from Jesus Christ into the souls of
believers, that acquaints them with the my.
steries of the kingdom of God, which can-
not otherwise be known. And this Spirit of
knowledge is withal a Spirit of holiness ;
for purity and holiness is likewise signified
by this light. He removed that huge dark
body of sin that was betwixt us and the
Father, and eclipsed him from us ; the light
of his countenance sanctifieth by truth: it is
a light that hath heat with it, and hath in-
fluence upon the affections, warms them to-
wards God and divine things : this darkness
here is indeed the shadow of death ; and so
[CHAP. ii.
they that are without Christ, till he visit
them, are said to sit in darkness and in the
shadow of death, Luke i. 79- So this light
is life, John i. 4, doth enlighten and enliven,
begets new actions and motions in the j-oul.
The right notion that a man hath of things
as they are, works upon him, and stirs him
accordingly ; so this light discovers a man
to himself, and lets him see his own natural
filthiness ; it makes him loathe himself, and
fly from and run out of himself. And the
excellency he sees in God, and his Son Jesus
Christ, by this new light, inflames his heart
with their love, fills him with estimation of
things in it that he esteemed before, base
and mean in his eyes.
Then from this light arises spiritual joy
and comfort ; so light signifies frequently,
as in that of the Psalmist, (the latter clause
expounds the former,) Psal. xcvii. 11, Light
is sown for the righteous, and joy for the
upright in heart. As this kingdom of
God's dear Son, that is, this kingdom of
light, hath righteousness in it ; so it hath
peace and joy in the Holy Ghost, Rom.
xiv. 17. It is a false prejudice the world
hath taken up against religion, that it is a
sour melancholy thing : There is no truly
lightsome and comfortable life but it. All
others, have they what they will, live in dark-
ness ; and is not that truly sad and comfort-
less ? Would you think it a pleasant life,
though you had fine clothes and good diet,
never to see the sun, but still to be kept in
a dungeon with them ? Tims are they that
live in worldly honour and plenty, but still,
without God, they are in continual darkness
with all their enjoyments.
It is true, the light of believers is not here
perfect, and therefore their joy is not perfect
neither ; it is sometimes over-clouded ; but
the comfort is this, that it is an everlasting
light, it shall never go out in darkness, as is
said in Job xviii. 5, of the light of the
wicked, and it shall within a while be per-
fected. There is a bright morning without
a cloud that shall arise. The saints have
not only light to lead them in their journey
but much purer light at home, an inherit,
ance in light, Col. i. 12. The land where
their inheritance lieth is full of light, and
their inheritance itself is light ; for the vi-
sion of God for ever, is that inheritance.
That city hath no need of the sun, nor of
the moon, to shine in it, for " the glory of
the Lord doth lighten it, and the Lamb is
the light thereof," Rev. xxi. 23. As we
said, that increated light is the happiness of
the soul, the beginnings of it are our happi-
ness begun ; they are beams of it sent from
above, to lead us to the fountain and fulness
of it. " With thee (says David) is the
fountain of life, and in thy light shall we
see light," Psal. xxxvi. 9.
VE3. 'J.J
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEK.
There are two things spoken of this light,
to commend it : HIS marvellous light ;
that it is after a peculiar manner God's, and
then that it is marvellous. All light is
from him, the light of sense, and that of
reason ; therefore he is called the Father of
lights, Jam. i. 17- But this light of grace
is after a peculiar manner his, being a light
above the reach of nature, infused into the
soul, in a supernatural way, the light of the
elect world, where God specially and graci-
ously resides. Natural men may know very
much in natural things, and it may be in
supernatural things, after a natural manner.
They may be full of school-divinity, and
able to discourse of God and his Son Christ,
and the mystery of redemption, &c., and yet
they want this peculiar light, by which
Christ is known to believers. They may
speak of him ; but it is in the dark ; they
see him not, and therefore they love him not.
The light they have, is as the light of some
things that shine only in the night, — a cold
glow-worm light, that hath no heat with it
at all.
Whereas a soul that hath some of his
light, God's peculiar light, communicated
to it, sees Jesus Christ, and loves and de-
| lights in him, and walks with him. A lit-
tle of this light is worth a great deal, yea,
more worth than all that other common, spe-
I culative, and discoursing knowledge, that
i the greatest doctors can attain unto. It is
of ajmore excellent kind and original; it is
from heaven, and you know that one beam
of the sun is more worth than the light of
ten thousand torches together ; it is a pure
undecaying heavenly light, whereas the other
is gross and earthly, (be it never so great,)
and lasts but a while. Let us not therefore
think it incredible, that a poor unlettered
Christian may know more of God in the best
kind of knowledge, than any, the wisest and
most learned, natural men can do ; for the
one knows God only by man's light, the
other knows him by his own light, and that
is the only right knowledge. As the sun
cannot be seen but by its own light, so nei-
ther can God be savingly knowa, but by his
own' revealing.
Now, this light being so peculiarly God's,
no wonder if it be marvellous. The com-
mon light of the world is so, though because
of its commonness, we think not so. The
Lord is marvellous in wisdom, in power, in
all his works of creation and providence :
But above all, in the workings of his grace.
This light is unknown to the world, and so
marvellous, in the rareness of beholding it,
that there be but a few that partake of it.
And to them that see it, it is marvellous ;
because in it they see so many excellent
things that they knew not before : as if
a man were born and brought up till he came
to the years of understanding in a dungeon,
where he had never seen light, and were
brought forth on a sudden ; or, not to need
that imagination, take the man that was born
blind, at his first sight, after Christ had
cured him, what wonder, think we, would
seize upon him, to behold on a sudden the
beauty of this visible world, especially ot
that sun, and that light, that makes it both
visible and beautiful ! But much more mat-
ter of admiration is there in this light, to the
soul that is brought newly from the dark-
ness of corrupt nature ; they see as it were a
new world, and in it such wonders of the
rich grace and love of God, such matchless
worth in Jesus Christ, the Sun of righteous-
ness, that their souls are filled with admira-
tion : And if this light of grace be so mar-
vellous, how much more marvellous shall
the light of glory be in which it ends !
Hence, learn, 1. To esteem highly of the
gospel, in which this light shines unto us ;
the apostle calls it therefore the glorious
Gospel, 2 Cor. iv. 4. Sure we have no
cause to be ashamed of it, but of ourselves,
that we are so unlike it.
2. Think not, you that are grossly igno-
rant of God, and his Son Christ, and the mys-
teries of salvation, that you have any portion
as yet in his grace ; for the first character of
his renewed image in the soul is light, as it
was his first work in the natural or material
world. What avails it us to live in the noon-
day light of the gospel, if our hearts be still
shut against it, and so we be nothing but
darkness within ? as a house that is dose
shut up, and hath no entry for light, though
it be day without, still it is night within.
3. Consider your delight in the works of
darkness, and be afraid of that great condem-
nation, This is the condemnation of the
world, that light is come into it, and men
love darkness rather than light, John iii. 19.
4. You that are indeed partakers of this
happy change, let your hearts be habitations
of light : Eph. v. 11, " Have no fellowship
with the unfruitful works of darkness, but
rather reprove them." Study much to in-
crease in spiritual light and knowledge, and
withal in holiness and obedience. If your
light be this light of God, truly spiritual
light, these will accompany it. Consider
the rich love of God, and account His light
marvellous, as in itself, so in this, that he
hath bestowed it on you ; and seeing you
were once darkness, but now are light in the
Lord, I beseech you, nay the apostle, and
in him the Spirit of God does it, Walk as
children of the light, Eph. v. 8.
But, to proceed to speak to the other parts
of this verse, under the second head, the
Principle of this Calling.
It is known and confessed to be a chief
point of wisdom in a man, to consider what
he is, from whom he hath his being, and tj
what end. When a Christian hath thought
A COMMENTARY UPON
[ CHAP. II.
on this in his natural being, as he is a man,
he hath the same to consider over again of
nis spiritual being, as he is a Christian, and
so a new creature. And in this notion, all
the three are very clearly represented to him
in these words. 1. What he is. First, by
these titles of dignity in the first words of
this verse : And again, by an estate of light
in the last clause of it. 2. Whence a
Christian hath this excellent being, is very
clearly expressed here, He hath called.
That God, who is the Author of all kind of
being, hath given you this, called you from
darkness into his marvellous light. If you
be a chosen generation, it is He that hath
chosen you, ' 1 Pet. i. 2. If you be a royal
priesthood, you know that it is He that hath
anointed you. If a holy nation, he hath
sanctified you, John xvii. 17- If « pecu-
liar or purchased people, it is He that hath
bought you, 1 Cor. vi. 20. All are in this
calling, and they are all one thing. 3. To
what end, to shew forth his praises. Of
the first of these, in all the several expres-
sions of it, we have spoken before ; now are
to be considered the other two.
II. He hath called you.] They that
live in the society, and profess the faith of
Christians, are called unto light, the light of
the gospel that shines in the church of God.
Now, this is no small favour and privilege,
while many people are left in darkness and
in the shadow of death, to have this light
arise upon us, and to be in the region of it,
the Church, the Goshen of the world ; for
by this outward light, we are invited to this
happy state of saving inward light, and that
is here to be understood as the means of this.
These Jews that were called to the profession
of the Christian faith, to whom our apostle
writes, were even in that called unto a light
hid from the rest of their nation, and from
many other nations in the world : But be-
cause the apostle doth undoubtedly describe
here the lively spiritual state of true be-
lievers ; therefore, this calling doth further
import the effectual work of conversion,
making the day-light of salvation, not only
without but within them, the day-star to
arise in their hearts, as he speaks, 2 Pet.
i. 19. When the sun is arisen, yet if a man
be lying fast in a dark prison, and in a deep
sleep too, it is not day to him ; he is not
called to light, till some open the doors and
awake him, and bring him forth to it. This
God doth, in the calling here meant. That
which is here termed calling, in regard oi
the way of God's working with the soul, is,
in regard of the power of it, called a rescu-
ing, and bringing forth of the soul ; so the
apostle St. Paul spsaks of it, Col. i. 13,
Delivered from the power of darkness, ana
translated to the kingdom of his dear Son.
That delivering and translating is this call-
ing : and it is from the power of darkness,
forcible power, that detains the soul cap.
tive : As there are chains of eternal dark-
ness, upon damned spirits, which shall never
se taken off, wherein they are said to be re-
served to the judgment of the great day ;
so there are chains of spiritual darkness upon
the unconverted soul, that can be taken off
ay no other hand, but the powerful hand of
God. He calls the sinner to come forth ;
and withal causes, by the power of his voice,
the bolts and fetters to fall off, and enables
the soul to come forth into the light. It is
an operative word that effects what it bids,
as that in the creation, He said, Let there
be light, and it was light. To which the
apostle hath reference, when he says, God,
who commanded the light to shine out of
darkness, hath shined into your hearts,
2 Cor. iv. 6. God calls man, he works with
him indeed, as with a reasonable creature ;
but sure he likewise works as himself, as an
Almighty Creator. He works strongly, and
sweetly, with an almighty easiness. One
man may call another to this light; and if
there be no more, he may call long enough
to no purpose ; as they tell of Mahomet's
miracle that misgave, he called a mountain
to come to him, but it stirred not. But his
call that shakes and removes the mountains,
doth in a way known to himself, turn and
wind the heart which way he pleaseth. The
voice of the Lord is powerful and full of
majesty, Psal. xxix. 4. If he speaks once to
the heart, it cannot choose but follow him,
and yet most willingly chooses that. The
workings of grace (as oil, to which it is often
compared) do insensibly and silently pene-
trate, and sink into the soul, and dilate
themselves through it. That word of his
own calling disentangles the heart from all
its nets (as it did the disciples) to follow
Christ. That call that brought St. Matthew
presently from his receipt of custom, puts off
the heart from all its customs and receipts
too ; makes it reject gains and pleasures,
and all that hinders it to go after Christ.
And it is a call that touches the soul so, as
the touch of Elijah's mantle, that made
Elisha follow him. Go back, said he, for
what have I done unto thee ? yet he had
done so much, as made him forsake all to go
with him, 1 Kings xix. 20. And this every
believer is most ready to acknowledge, that
knows what the rebellion of his heart was,
and what his miserable love of darkness was;
that the gracious, yet mighty call of God
was that which drew him out of it, and
therefore he willingly assents to that.
Which leads us to the third thing to be
spoken of, namely, the end of this calling
and state of Christians, which is to show
forth his praise, who hath so mercifully,
and so powerfully, called them from so mU
serable to so happy an estate.
i For, 1. this is God's end in calling us, to
VEK. 9.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEK.
communicate his goodness to us, that so the
glory of it may return to himself. The
highest agent cannot work but for the highest
end ; so that, as the apostle speaks, when God
would confirm his covenant by an oath, he
sirare by himself, because he could swear
by no greater ; so in all things he must be
the end of his own actions ; because there is
no greater, nor better end, yea none by in-
finite odds so great or good ; particularly in
the calling and exalting a number of lost
mankind to so great honour and happiness ;
both in designing that great work and in
performing it, he aims at the opening, and
declaring of his rich grace, for the glory of forth much fruit. Were it not the con-
it: As the apostle St. Paul tells us once
and again, Eph. i. C, 12.
2. As this is God's end, it ought to be
ours, and therefore ours because it is his.
And for this very purpose, botli here and
elsewhere, are we put in mind of it, that we
may be true to his end, and intend it with
:rim : This is his purpose in calling us, and
therefore it is our great duty, being so call-
ed, to declare his praises. All things and
persons shall pay this tribute; even they
:hat are most unwilling : But the happiness
of his chosen is, that they are active in it,
others are passive only. Whereas the rest
[lave his praise wrested from them, they do
declare it cheerfully, as the glorious angelo
do. As the gospel brings them glad tidings
of peace from God, and declares to them
that love and mercy that is in him, they
smother it not, but proclaim it ; they declare
it, and s«t forth the glory of it with their
utmost power and skill.
There be in this two things : 1. Not only
to speak upon all occasions to the advantage
of his grace, but that the frame of their ac-
tions be such as doth tend to the exalting of
God : And 2. That in those actions they
do intend this end, or set up this for their
m.
1. Their words and actions being confor-
mable to that high and holy estate to which
they are called, do commend and praise their
Lord, that hath called them to it. The
virtues that are in them tell us of His vir-
:ues, as brooks lead us to their springs.
Then faith glorifies God, when a Christian
can quietly repose and trust on God, in a
matter of very great difficulty, wherein there
is no other thing to stay him but God alone ;
:his declares, that there is strength enough
n God that bears him up, that there must
je in him that real abundance of goodness
and truth that the word speaks of him,
" Abraham believed and gave glory to God,"
Rom. iv. 20. This is that which a believer
can do ; to declare the truth of God, he
relies on it. " He that believes sets to his
seal that God is true," John iii. 33. So
»lso their holiness is for his praise. Men
;iear that there is a God who is infinitely
holy, but they can neither s^e him nor his
holiness ; but when they perceive some li-
neaments of it in the faces of his children,
which are no others, this may convince them
that its perfection, which must be some-
where, can be nowhere else but in their
heavenly Father. When those that are his
peculiar plants, bring forth the fruits of ho-
liness, which naturally they yielded not, it
testifies a supernatural work of His hand
that planted them, and the more they are
fruitful the greater is his praise, Herein
(says our Saviour, John xv. 8,) is your
heavenly Father glorified, that ye bring
science of this duty to God, and possibly
the necessity of their station and calling, it
may be, some Christian had rather altoge-
ther lock Up, and keep within him any grace
he hath, than let it appear at all, considering
some hazards he and it run in the dis-
covery ; and, it may be, could take some
pleasure in the world's mistakes, and dis-
esteem of him. But, seeing both piety and
charity require the acting of graces in con-
verse with men, that which hypocrisy doth
for itself, a real Christian may, and should
do for God.
2. The other thing mentioned as making
up this rule, will give the difference ; that
not only what we speak and do, should be
such as agrees with this end, but that in so
speaking and doing, our eye be upon this
end : That all our Christian conversation
be directly intended by us, not to cry up our
own virtues, but to glorify God, and his
virtues, to declare His praises, who hath
called us.
Let your light, says our Saviour, Matt,
v. 16, shine, and shine before men too ;
that is not forbidden, yea it is commanded :
But it is thus commanded, Let your light
so shine before men, that they seeing your
good works, yourselves as little as may be,
your works more than yourselves (as the sun
gives us its light, and will scarce suffer us to
look upon itself,) may glorify whom ? You ?
No ; but your Father who is in heaven.
Let your light shine, it is given for that
purpose, but let it shine always to the glory
of the Father of lights. Men that seek
themselves, may share in the same public
kind of actions with you : but let your secret
intention, which God eyes most, sever you.
This is the seal and impression that a sincere
and humble Christian sets upon all his actions,
the glory of God : He useth all he hath,
especially all his graces, to His praise that
gives it ; and is sorry he hath no more for
this use ; and is daily seeking after more,
not to bring more esteem to himself, but more
honour to God. It is a poor booty to hunt
after that, namely, an airy vain breath of
men. The best things in them, their solid-
est good, is altogether vanity. How much
G
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. ii.
more that which is lightest anci vainest in
them. This is the mind that is in every
Christian, in all his ways to deny himself, and
be willing to abuse himself to exalt his Mas-
ter ; to be of St. Paul's temper, that regard-
ed not himself at all, honour or dishonour,
prison or liberty, life or death, content he was
with any thing, so Christ might be magni-
fied, Phil. I. 20.
And as every godly mind must be thus af-
fected, especially the ministers of the gospel,
they that are not only called with others to
partake of this marvellous light, but are in a
special manner to hold it forth to others, how
do pure affections become them, and ardent
desires to promote His glory who hath so
called them ! A rush for your praise or dis-
praise of us ! only receive Jesus Christ, and
esteem highly of him, and it is enough.
That is the thing we give to some of you.
We preach not ourselves, says the apostle,
but Christ Jesus the Lord, 2 Cor. iv. 5.
That is our errand, not to catch, .either at
base gain, or vain applause for ourselves, but
to exalt our Lord Jesus in the hearts of men.
And to those that are so minded there is a
reward abiding them, of such riches, and
honour, as they would be very loath to ex-
change for any thing to be had amongst
men.
But, in this station, this is the mind oi
every one that loves the Lord Jesus, mosl
heartily to make a sacrifice of himself, and
all he is and hath ; means, and esteem, and
life, and all to His glory, that humbled him-
self so low, to exalt us to these dignities, to
make us kings and priests unto God.
It is most just, seeing we have our crowns
from him, and that he hath set them on our
heads, that we take them in our hands, anc
throw them down before his throne. Al
our graces (if we have any) are his free gift.
and are given as the rich garments of this
spiritual priesthood, only to attire us suitably
for this spiritual sacrifice of his praises : As
the costly vesture of the high-priest under
the law, was not appointed to make him gay
for himself, but to decorate him for his hoi]
service, and to commend as a figure of it the
perfect holiness wherewith our great High-
Priest Jesus Christ was clothed. Wha
good thing have we, that is not from the
hand of our good God ; and receiving al
from him, and after a special manner spiri-
tual blessings, is it not reasonable that al
we have, but those spiritual gifts especially
should declare his praise, and his only ?
David did not grow big with vain thoughts
and lift up himself, because God had lif
him up; but cries out, Psal. xxx. 1, / wil
extol thee, because thou hast lifted me up
The visible heavens, and all the beauty anc
all the lights in them, speak nothing bu
His glory that framed them, as the Psalmis
teacheth us, Psal. xix. 1 ; and shall no
hess spiritual lights, his called ones, whom
ie hath made light so peculiarly for that
jurpose, these stars in his right hand, do it
nuch more ? Oh ! let it be thus with us ;
he more he gives, be still the more humble,
and let him have the return of more glory,
and let it go entire to him : It is all his
due, and in doing thus, we shall still grow
richer ; for where he sees the most faithful
servant, that purloins nothing, but improves
all to his master's advantage, sure him he
will trust with most.
And as it is thus both most due to God,
and most profitable for ourselves, in all to
seek his praises ; so it is the most excellent
,nd generous intent, to have the same thought
with God, the same purpose that is his, and
to aim no lower than at his glory ; whereas
it is a base poor thing for a man to seek
himself, far below that royal dignity that is
tiere put upon Christians, and that priesthood
joined with it. Under the law, they that
were squint-eyed were incapable of the priest-
hood, Levit. xxi. 20 ; truly this squinting
out to our own interest, looking aside to that,
(in God's affairs especially,) so deforms the
face of the soul, that it makes it altogether
unworthy the honour of this spiritual priest-
hood. Oh ! this is a large task, an infinite
task. The several creatures bear their part
in this ; the sun says somewhat, and moon
and stars, yea, the lowest have some share in
it ; the very plants and herbs of the field
speak of God, and yet the very highest and
best, yea, all- of them together, the whole
consort of heaven and earth, cannot shew
forth all his praise to the full. No, it is
but a part, the smallest part, of that glory
which they can reach.
We all pretend to these dignities, in that
we profess ourselves Christians ; but if we
have a mind to be resolved of the truth in
this, (for many, many are deceived in it,)
we may, by asking ourselves seriously, and
answering truly to this : \st, Whether are
my actions and the course of my life such,
as give evidence of the grace of God, and so
speak his praise ? If not, sure I am not of
this number that God hath thus called and
dignified : And this I fear would degrade
many. Idly, If my life be somewhat re-
gular and Christian-like, yet whether do I in
it all, singly and constantly, without any
selfish or sinister end, desire and seek the
glory of God alone ? Otherwise, I may be
like this chosen generation : but I am not
of them : And this out of doubt would make
the number yet far less. Well, think on it,
it is a miserable condition for men, either to
be grossly staining and dishonouring the
holy religion they profess, or in seeming to
serve and honour God, to be serving and
seeking themselves ; it is the way to lose
themselves for ever. Oh ! it is a comfortable
thing to have an upright mind, and to love
vj:n. 10.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
God for himself, and love seeks not itsowu
things, 1 Cor. xiiL 5. They are truly happy
that make this their work ; sincerely, though
weakly, to advance the praises of their God
in all things ; and finding the great imper-
fection of their best diligence in this work
here, are still longing to be in that state where
they shall do it better.
VER. 10. Which in time past were not a people,
but are now the people of God : Which had not
obtained m rcy, but now have obtained mercy.
THE love of God to his children is the
great subject both of his word and of their
thoughts, and therefore is it that his word
(the rule of their thoughts and whole lives)
speaks so much of that love ; to that very
end, that they may think much, and esteem
highly of it, and walk answerably to it.
This is the scope of St. Paul's doctrine to
the Ephesians, and the top of his desires for
them, Eph. iii. 17, and this is our apostle's
aim here. As he began the Epistle with
opposing their election in heaven to their dis-
persion on earth, the same consideration runs
through the whole of it. Here he is repre-
senting to them the great fruit of that love,
that happy and high estate to which they are
called in Christ ; that the choosing of Christ,
and of believers, is as one act, and they as
one entire object of it ; one glorious temple ;
He the foundation and head comer-stone,
and they the edifice, one honourable frater-
nity ; He the King of kings and Great High-
Priest, and they likewise through him made
kings and priests unto God the Father, a
royal priesthood, &c. He the light of the
world, and they through him children of
light. Now that this their dignity, which
shines so bright in its own innate worth, may
yet appear the more, the apostle here sets it
off by a double opposition.
1. Of the misery under which others are,
and also that misery under which they them-
selves were before their calling. And this
being set on both sides, is as a dark shadow-
ing round about their happiness here descri-
bed setting off the lustre of it.
1 . Their former misery, expressed in the
former verse by darkness, is here more fully
and plainly set before their view in these
words ; they are borrowed from the prophet
Hosea, ii. 23, where (as is usual with the
prophets,) he is raised up by the Spirit of
God, from the temporal troubles, and deliver-
ances of the Israelites, to consider and fore-
tell that great restoration wrought by Jesus
Christ, purchasing a new people to himself,
made up both of Jews and Gentiles that be-
lieve : And therefore the prophecy is fit and
applicable to both ; so that the debate is al-
together needless, whether it concerns the
Jews or Gentiles. For in its spiritual sense,
as relating to the kingdom of Christ, it fore-
tells the making the Gentiles, that were not
refore so, the people of God, and the reco-
very of the Jews likewise, who by their apos-
tasies, and the captivities and dispersions
which came upon them, as just punishments
of those apostasies, were degraded from the
outward dignities they had as the people
of God, and withal were spiritually misera-
ble and captives by nature, and so in both
respects laid equal with the Gentiles, and
stood as much in need of this restitution as
they. St. Paul useth it, concerning the call-
ing of the Gentiles, Rom. ix. 25. And
here St. Peter, writing, as is most proba-
ble, particularly to the dispersed Jews, ap-
plies it to them, as being, in the very refer-
ence it bears to the Jews, truly fulfilled in
those alone that were believers, faith making
them a part of the true Israel of God, to
which the promises do peculiarly belong, as
the apostle St. Paul argues at large, Rom.
ix.
2. We have their present happiness ; and
this we also have here under a double expres-
sion, they were not a people ; destitute of
mercy ; not the people of God, says the pro-
phet ; not a people, says our apostle ; being
not God's people, so base and miserable as
not to be worthy of the name of a people at
all, as it is taken, Deut. xxxii. 21.
There is a kind of being, a life that a soul
hath by a peculiar union with God ; and
therefore in that sense the soul without God
is dead, as the body is without the soul, Eph.
ii. 1. Yea, as the body separated from the
soul is not only a lifeless lump, but pufrifies
and becomes noisome and abominable ; thus
the soul separated from God is subject to a
more loathsome and vile putrefaction, Psal.
xiv. 3. So that men that are yet unbelievers,
are not, as the Hebrews expressed death ;
and multitudes of them are not a people,
but a heap of filthy carcases. Again, take
our natural misery in the notion of a capti-
vity, which was the judgment threatened
against the Jews to make them not a people
therefore their captivity is often spoke of as
a death by the prophets, and their reduction
as their resurrection, Ezek. xxxvii. And as
a captive people is civilly dead, as they speak,
so a soul captive to sin, and the prince of
darkness, is spiritually dead, wanting hap-
piness and well-being, which if it never at-
tain, it had better, for itself, not be at all.
There is nothing but disorder and confusion
in the soul without God, the affections hurry-
ing, it away tumultuously, as in a state of
anarchy.
Thus captive sinners are not ; they are
dead ; they want that happy being that flows
from God to the souls that are united to him-
self, and consequently must want that society
and union with one another, which results
from the former, results from the same union
that believers have with God, and the same
being in him ; which makes them truly
worthy to be called a people, and particularly
100
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. ii.
the people of God. His people are the only
people in the world worthy to be called a
•people ; the rest are but refuse and dross,
although in the world's esteem, that judges
by its own rules, and favour of itself, the
people of God be as no body, no people, a
company of silly creatures ; yea, we are made,
says the great apostle, as the filth of the
world, and the off-scouring of all things,
1 Cor. iv. 13 ; yet, in his account who hath
chosen them, (who alone knows the true
value of things,) his people are the only peo-
ple, and all the rest of the world as nothing
in his eyes. He dignifies and beautifies
them, and loves in them that beauty which
he hath given them.
But under that term is not only comprised
that new being of believers in each one of
them apart ; but that tie and union that is
amongst them as one people, being incorpo-
rated together, and living under the same
government and laws, without which a people
are beasts of the field, or the fishes of (he
sea, and the creeping things that have no
ruler over them, as the prophet, Hab. i. 14,
speaks. That regujar living in society, and
union in laws and policy, makes many men
to be one people ; but the civil union of men
in states and kingdom, is nothing compara-
ble to the mysterious union of the people of
God with him, and one with another. That
commonwealth hath a firmer union than all
others. Believers are knit together in Christ
as their head ; not merely a civil or political
head ruling them, but as a natural head,
enlivening them, giving them all one life.
Men in other societies, though well ordered,
yet are but as a multitude of trees, regularly
planted indeed, but each hath his own root :
But the faithful are all branches of one root,
their union is so mysterious, that it is com-
pared to the very union of Christ with his
Father, as it is indeed the product of it,
John xvii. 21.
People of God. \ " I will say to them,
Thou art my people, and they shall say, Thou
art my God," Hos. ii. 23. That mutual in-
terest and possession is the very foundation
of all our comfort. He is the first chooser ;
he first says, My people, calls them so, and
makes them to be so ; and then they say,
My God. It is therefore a relation that
shall hold and shall not break, because it is
founded upou his choice who changes not.
The tenor of an external covenant with a
people, as the Jews particularly found, is
such as may be broken by man's unfaithful-
ness, though God remain faithful and true :
But the new covenant of grace makes all
sure on all hands, and cannot be broken ;
the Lord not only keeping his own part, but
likewise performing ours, in us, and for us,
and establishing us, that as he departs not
from us first, so we shall not depart from him.
/ will betrothe thee to me, says he there, for
ever : It is an indissoluble marriage, that
is not in danger to be broke either by di-
vorce or death.
My People.} There is treasure of in-
struction and comfort wrapt up in that word,
not only more than the profane world can im-
agine, for they indeed know nothing at aU
of it, but more than they that are of that
number are able to conceive, a deep unfathom-
able. My People. They his portion, and
he is theirs. He accounts nothing of all the
world beside them, and they of nothing at all
beside him ; for them he continues the world.
Many and great are the privileges of his
people contained in that great charter, the
holy scriptures, and rich is that land where
their inheritance lies ; but all flows from this
reciprocal relation, that he is their God.
All his power and wisdom is engaged for
their good : how great and many soever are
their enemies, they may well oppose this to
all, he is their God. They are sure to be
protected and prospered, and in the end to
have full victory. " Happy then is that
people whose God is the Lord," Psal.
xxxiii. 12.
Which had not obtained mercy. ] The
mercies of the Lord to his chosen are from
everlasting ; yet so long as his decree of
mercy runs hid, and is not discovered to
them in the effects of it, they are said not to
have received or obtained mercy : and when
it begins to act and work in their effectual
calling, then they find it to be theirs. It
was in a secret way moving forward towards
them before, as the sun after midnight is still
coming nearer to us, though we perceive not
its approach till the dawning of the day.
Mercy.} The former word, the people of
God, teaches us how great the change is that
is wrought by the calling of God ; it makes
those his people who were not a people.
This word, obtained mercy, discovers the
spring from whence it flows ; and likewise
teaches us, 1. How free it is ; this is indeed
implied in the words of the change, of no
people, such as have no right to such a dig-
nity at all, and in themselves no disposition
for it ; to be made his people, can be owing
to nothing but free grace ; such mercy as
supposes nothing, and seeks nothing but
misery in us, and works upon that. As it
is expressed to have been very free to this
people of the Jews, in choosing them before
the rest of the world, Deut. vii. 7? 8, so it
is to the spiritual Israel of God, and to every
one particularly belonging to that company.
Why is it that he chooseth one of a family,
and leaves another, but because it pleaseth
him ? He blots out their transgressions for
his own name's sake, Isa. xliii. 25. And,
2. As it is free mercy, so it is tender mercy ;
the word in the prophet signifies tenderness,
or bowels of compassion, and such are the
men ies of our God towards us, Jer. xxxi. 20.
VEH. 9.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
I'M
The bowels of a father, Psal. ciii. 13, and
if you think not that tenderness enough, those
of a mother,, yea more than a mother, Isa.
xlix. 15. 3. It is rich mercy, which
delights to glorify itself in the greatest
misery ; and pardons as easily the greatest
as the smallest of debts. 4. A constant un-
alterable mercy, a stream still running.
Now in both these the apostle draws the
eyes of believers to reflect on their former
misery, and view it together with their pre-
sent state. This is very frequent in the
scriptures, Ezek. xvi. Eph. xxi. 1 Cor. vi.
this, that there is a peculiar people of his
own, to whom alone all the riches of it do be-
long.
And therefore, how great soever it is, un-
less you find yourselves of that number,
you cannot lay claim to the smallest share of
it. And you are not ignorant what is their
character, what a kind of people they are,
that have such a knowledge of God as him-
self gives ; they are all taught of God, en-
lightened and sanctified by his Spirit, a holy
people, as he is a holy God, such as have the
riches of that his grace, by which they are
11, &c. And it is of very great use; it [saved, in most precious esteem, and their
works the soul of a Christian to much hu- j hearts by it inflamed with his love ; and there-
mility and love, and thankfulness and obe- fore their thoughts taken up with nothing so
dience.
It cannot choose but force him to abase
himself and magnify the free grace and love
of God, and this may be one reason why it
pleaseth the Lord to suspend the conver-
sion of many, for many years of their life,
yea, to suffer some of them to stain those
much as studying how they may obey and
honour him ; rather choosing to displease
all the world, than offend him ; and account-
ing nothing too dear, yea, nothing good
enough to do him service. If it be thus
with you, then you have indeed obtained
mercy.
years with grievous and gross sins ; that the } But if you be such as can wallow in the
riches and glory of his grace, and freeness of ( same puddle with the profane world, and
his choice, may be the more legible both to ' take a share of their ungodly ways ; or if,
themselves and others. Likewise those ap- j though your outward carriage be somewhat
prehensions of wrath due to sin, and sights of . more smooth, you regard iniquity in your
hell as it were, that he brings some unto, hearts, have your hearts ardent in the love
either at or after their conversion, make for { and pursuit of the world, but frozen to God ;
this same end. That glorious description of , if you have some bosom idol that you hide
the New Jerusalem, Rev. xxi. 16, &c. is and entertain, and cannot find in your heart
abundantly delightful in itself, and yet the to part with some one beloved sin, whatso-
fiery lake spoke of there, ver. 8, makes all ever it is, for all the love that God -hath
that is spoke of the other sound much the manifested to man in the Son of his love
Jesus Christ : In a word, if you can please
and delight yourself in any way displeasing
unto God, (though his people while they
are here have spots, yet these are not spots
of his people that I am now speaking of,)
I can give you no assurance that as yet you
have obtained mercy : On the contrary, it is
certain that the wrath of God is still abid-
ing on you, and if you continue in this state,
you are in apparent danger of perishing
under it. You are yet children of spiritual
darkness, and in the way to utter and ever-
lasting darkness. Know ye what it is to be
destitute of this mercy ? It is a woeful
state, though you had all worldly enjoy-
ments, and were in the top of outward pros-
perity, to be shut out from the mercy and
sweeter.
But, universally, rfll the godly have this to
consider, that they were strangers and ene-
mies to God : and let each of them think,
Whence was it, that I, a lump of the same
polluted clay with those that perish, should
be taken and purified and moulded by the
Lord's own hand for a vessel of glory ?
Nothing but free grace makes the difference ;
and where can there be love, and praises, and
service found to answer this ? All is to be
»scribed to the mercy, gifts, and calling of
Christ. And his ministers (as doth St. Paul,)
I ascribe it to his mercy that they faint not,
\ 2 Cor. iv. 1.
But, alas ! we neither enjoy the comfort
j of this mercy as obtained, nor are grieved for
j wanting it, and stirred up to seek after it, if
I not yet obtained. What do you think ?
j seems it a small thing in your eyes to be
J shut out from the presence of God, and to
i bear the weight of his wrath for ever, that
I you thus slight this mercy, and let it pass
I by you unregarded ? or will that imagined
| obtaining divert you from the real pursuit of
? Will you be willingly deceived, and be
>ur own deceivers in a matter of so great
mportance ? You cannot think too highly
jf the riches of divine mercy ; it is above all
3ur thoughts ; but remember and consider
love of God.
There is nothing doth so kindly work re.
pentance, as the right apprehension of the
mercy and love of God. The beams of that
love are more powerful to melt the heart than
all the flames of mount Sinai, all the threa-
tenings and terrors of the law : Sin is the
root of our misery ; and therefore it is the
proper work of this mercy to rescue the soul'
from it ; both from the guilt, and the power
of it at once. Can you think there is any
suitableness in it, that the peculiar people of
God should despise his laws, and practise
102
nothing but rebellions ? That those in whom
he hath magnified his mercy, should take
pleasure in abusing it ? and that he hath
washed any with the blood of his Son, to
the end that they may still wallow again in
the mire ? As if we were redeemed not from
sin but to sin : As if we should say, We
are delivered to do all these abominations,
Jer. vii. 10. Oh ! let us not dare thus to
abuse and affront the free grace of God, if
we mean to be saved by it : Let as many as
would be found among those that obtain
mercy, walk as his people, whose peculiar
inheritance is his mercy. And seeing this
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. ir.
embrace it, and let it effectually teach us to
deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, Tit.
ii. 11, 12.
And if you be persuaded to be earnest
suitors for this mercy, and to fly in to Jesus,
who is the true mercy-seat, then be assured
it is yours. Let not the greatest guiltiness
scare you and drive you from it, but rather
drive you the more to it ; for the greater the
weight of that misery is under which you
lie, the more need you have of this mercy,
and the more will be the glory of it in you.
It is a strange kind of argument used by the
Psalmist, and yet a sure one, it concludes
well and strongly, (Psal. xxv. 7,) "Lord
pardon my iniquity, for it is great." The
soul pressed with the greatness of its sin
lying heavy upon it, may make that very
pressure an argument to press the forgive-
ness of it at the hands of free mercy ; it is
for thy name sake, that' makes it strong ;
the force of the inference lies in that. Thou
art nothing, and worse than nothing ; true !
but all that ever obtained this mercy were
once so : They were nothing of all that
which it hath made them to be ; they were
not a people, had no interest in God, were
strangers to mercy, yea, heirs of wrath:
Yea, they had not so much as a desire after
God, until this mercy prevented them, and
shewed itself to them, and them to them-
selves, and so moved them to desire it, and
caused them to find it, caught hold on them
and plucked them out of the dungeon. And
it is unquestionably still the same, and fails
not ; ever expending, and yet never all spent,
yea, not so much as at all diminished ; flow-
ing as the rivers from one age to another,
serving each age in the present, and yet nc
whit the less to those that come after. He
who exercises it is The LORD forgiving
iniquity, transgression, and sin, to all thai
come unto him, and yet still keeping mercy
for thousands that come after, Exod. xxxiv. 7.
You that have obtained this mercy, anc
have the seal of it within you, it will certain-
ly conform your hearts to its own nature, It
will work you to a merciful compassionate
temper of mind to the souls of others that
have not yet obtained it. You will indeed
as the Lord doth, hate sin ; but, as he doth
ikewise, you will pity the sinner. You will
be so far from misconstruing and grumbling
t the long-suffering of God, as if you would
lave the bridge cut because you are over, as
St. Augustine speaks, that, on the contrary,
your great desire will \>z to draw others to
jartake of the same mercy with you, know-
ng it to be rich enough : And you will in
four station use your best diligence to bring
n many to it, both in love to the souls of
men, and to the glory of God.
And withal, you will be still admiring,
md extolling this mercy as it is manifested
unto you, considering what it is, and what
you were before it visited you. The Is-
raelites confessed, at the offering of the first
Tuits, Deut. xxv. 5, to set off the bounty of
God, A Syrian ready to perish was my
father ; they confessed their captivity in
Egypt : but far poorer and baser is our na-
tural condition, and far more precious is that
land, to the possession of which this free
mercy bringeth us.
Do but call back your thoughts, you that
have indeed escaped it, and look but into
that pit of misery, whence the hand of the
Lord hath drawn you out, and you cannot
miss to love him highly, and still kiss that
gracious hand, even while it is scourging
you with any affliction whatsoever : because
it hath once done this for you, namely,
plucked you out of everlasting destruction.
As the thoughts of this change will teach us
to praise, Psal. xl. 23, " He hath brought
me up out of an horrible pit ;" then follows,
" He hath put a new song in my mouth,
even praise unto our God ; not only redeem-
ed me from destruction, but withal crowned
me with glory and honour," Psal. ciii. 4.
He not only doth forgive all our debts, and
let us out of prison, but enriches us with an
estate that cannot be spent, and dignifies us
with a crown that cannot wither, made up
of nothing of ours. These two will stretch
and tune the heart very high, to consider
from what a low estate grace brings a man,
and how high it doth exalt him ; in what a
beggarly vile condition the Lord finds us,
and yet doth not only free us thence, but
puts such dignities on us ; " raises up the
poor out of the dust, and lifts the needy out
of the dunghill, that he may be set with
princes, even with the princes of his people,"
Psal. cxiii. 7, 8. Or as Joshua the priest,
Zech. iii. 3, 4, 5, puts off the polluted gar-
ments, and sets on a fair mitre. So those
of this priesthood are dealt withaj.
Now, that we may be the deeper in the sense
and admiration of this mercy, it is indeed
our duty to seek earnestly after the evidence
and strong assurance of it ; for things work
on us according to our notice and apprehen.
sions of them, and therefore the more right
assurance of mercy, the more love, and thank.
VXR. 11.
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
103
fulness, and obedience springs from it :
Therefore it is, that the apostle here repre-
sents this great and happy change of estate
to Christians, as a thing that they may know
concerning themselves, and ought to seek the
knowledge of, that so they may be duly affect-
ed with it. And it is indeed a happy thing to
have in the soul an extract of that great archive
and act of grace towards it, that hath stood in
heaven from eternity. It is sure both a very
comfortable and profitable thing, to find and
read clearly the seal of mercy upon the soul,
•which is holiness, that by which a man is
marked by God, as apart of his peculiar pos-
session that he hath chosen out of the world :
And when we perceive any thing of this, let
us look back, as here the apostle would have us
to do, and reflect how God has called us
from darkness to his marvellous light.
VEH. 11. Dearly beloved, I beseech you, as strangers
and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts, which
\var against the soul.
THE right spiritual knowledge that a
Christian hath of God and of himself, differ-
enceth itself from whatsoever is likest to it,
by the power and influence it hath upon the
heart and life. And in this it hath the lively
impression of that doctrine of the holy scrip-
tures that teaches it ; wherein we still find
throughout, that the high mysteries of reli-
gion are accompanied with practical truths,
which not only agree with them, but are
drawn out of them, and that not violently
drawn, but naturally flowing from them, as
pure streams from a pure spring. Thus in
this epistle we find the apostle intermixing
his doctrine with the most useful and prac-
tical exhortations, chap. i. ver. 13, 22, and
in the beginning of this chapter again, and
now in these words.
And upon this model ought both the
ministers of the gospel to form their preach-
ing, and the hearers their ear. Ministers are
not to instruct only, or exhort only, but to do
both. To exhort men to holiness and the
duties of a Christian life, without instructing
men in the doctrine of faith, and bringing
them to Jesus Christ, is to build a house
without a foundation. And on the other
side, to instruct the mind in the knowledge
of divine things, and neglect
that practice and power of godliness, which
is the undivided companion of true faith, is
to forget the building that ought to be raised
upon that foundation once laid, which is like-
wise a point of very great folly. Or if men
laying that right foundation, do proceed to
the superstructure of vain and empty specula-
tions, it is but to build hay and stubble, 1
Cor. iii. 1 2, instead of those solid truths that
direct the soul in the way to happiness, which
are of more solidity and worth than gold and
silver, and precious stones, 1 Tim. iii. 9.
Christ, and the doctrine that reveals him, is
the pressing of fleshly lusts
called the mystery of the faith, and ver. 16.
the mystery of gndliness : As Christ is the ob-
ject of faith, so he is the spring and fountain
of godliness. The apostle having, we see, in
his foregoing discourse unfolded the excellency
of Christ, and of Christians in him, proceeds
here to exhort them to that pure and spiri-
tual temper of mind and course of life, that
becomes them as Christians.
These hearers are to blame, and to preju-
dice themselves, that are attentive only to
such words and discourse as stir the affections
for the present, and find no relish in the
doctrine of faith, and the unfolding of those
mysteries that bear the whole weight of reli-
gion, so as to be the ground both of all Chris-
tian obedience, and all exhortations and per-
suasives to it. These temporary sudden
stirrings of the affections, without a right in-
formed mind, and some measure of due know-
ledge of God in Christ, do no good. It is
the wind of a word of exhortation that stirs
them for the time against their lusts, but
the first wind of temptation that comes,
carries them away ; and thus the mind is but
tossed to and fro like a wave of the sea, with
all kind of winds, not being rooted and .
grounded in the faith of Christ, as it is.
Col. ii. 7, and so in the love of Christ, Eph.
ii. 17? which are the conquering graces that
subdue his lusts and the world unto a Chris-
tian, 1 John v. 4, 2 Cor. v. 14, 15. Love
makes a man dead to himself and the world,
and to live to Christ that died for him.
On the other part, they are no les», yea,
more to blame, that are glad to have their
minds instructed in the mysteries of the
Christian faith, and out of a mere natural
desire to know, are curious to hear such
things as inform them ; but when it comes
to the urging of holiness and mortifying their
lusts, these are hard sayings, they had ra-
ther there were some way to receive Christ,
and retain their lusts too, and to bring them
to agreement. To hear of the mercies of
God, and the dignities of his people in Christ,
is very pleasing ; but to have this follow upon
it, abstain from fleshly lusts, this is an im-
portune troublesome discourse : But it must
be so for all that, these that will share in
that mercy and happiness must abstain from
&c.
Dearly beloved, I beseech you. ] There
is a faculty of reproving required in the mi-
nistry, and sometimes a necessity of very
sharp rebukes, cutting ones. They that
have much of the spirit of meekness, may
have a rod by them too, to use upon neces-
sity : But sure the way of meekness is that
they use most willingly, as the apostle there
implies. And out of all question, with inge-
nuous minds the mild way of sweet entreaties
is very forcible ; as oil that penetrates and
sinks insensibly ; or, to use that known re«
semblance, they prevail as the sun-beams^
104
that without any noise, made the traveller
cast his cloak, which all the blustering of the
wind could not do; but made him rather
gather it closer, and bind it faster about him.
We see the apostles are frequent in this
strain of entreaties, / beseech you, Rom. xii.
1. Now this word of entreaty is strength-
ened much by the other, Dearly beloved.
Scarce can the harshest reproofs, much less
gentle reproofs, be thrown back, that have
upon them the stamp of love. That which
is known to come from love cannot readily
but be so received too, and it is thus express-
ed, for that very purpose, that the request
may be the more welcome. Beloved, is the
advice of a friend, one that truly loves you,
and aims at nothing in it but your good. It
is because I love you that I entreat you, and
entreat you, as you love yourselves, to ab-
stain from fleshly lusts that war against
your souls. And what is our purpose when
we exhort you to believe and repent, but that
you may be happy in the forgiveness of your
sins ? Why do we desire you to embrace
Christ, but that through him ye may have
everlasting life ?
Howsoever you take these things, it is our
duty incessantly to put you in mind of them ;
and to do it with much love and tenderness
of affection to your souls ; not only pressing
you by frequent warnings and exhortings,
but also by frequent prayers and tears for
your salvation.
Abstain.] It was a very wise abridgement
that Epictetus made of philosophy, into those
two words, bear and forbear. These are
truly the two main duties that our apostle
recommends to his Christian brethren, in this
epistle. It is one and the same strength of
spirit that raises a man both above the trou-
bles and pleasures of the world, and makes
him despise and trample upon both.
We have first briefly to explain what these
fleshly lusts mean ; then to consider the ex-
hortation of abstaining from them.
Unchaste desires are particularly called by
this name indeed, but to take it for these
only in this place, is doubtless too narrow.
That which seems to be the true sense of it
here, takes in all undue desires and use of
earthly things, and all the corrupt affections
of our carnal minds.
Now in that sense, these fleshly lusts com-
prehend a great part of the body of sin : All
those three, the world's accursed trinity, 1
John ii. 16, are under this name here of
fleshly lusts. A crew of base imperious
masters they are, to which the natural man
»s a slave ; serving divers lusts, Tit. iii. 3.
Some are more addicted to the service of one
kind of lust, some of another : But all are
in this unhappy, that they are strangers, yea,
enemies to God ; and as the brute creatures
servants to their flesh ; either like the beasts
<* the field, as the covetous, with their eyes
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. IT.
still upon the earth ; or voluptuous, and
swimming in pleasures, as the fishes do in the
sea, or like the fowls of the air, in vain am-
bition. All the strifes that are raised about
these things, all malice, and envyings, all
bitterness and evil- speaking, Eph. iv. 31,
which are works of the flesh, and tend to the
satisfying of its wicked desires, we are here
requested to abstain from.
To abstain from these lusts, is to hate and
fly from the very thoughts, and first motions
of them ; and if surprised by those, yet to
kill them there, that they bring not forth r
and to suspect ourselves even in those things
that are not sinful, and tokeep afar off from all
inducements to those polluted ways of sin.
In a word, we are to abstain not only from
the serving of our flesh in things forbidden,
as unjust gain or unlawful pleasures, &c. but
also from immoderate desire of and delight-
ing in any earthly thing, although it may be
in itself lawfully, yea, necessarily in some de-
gree desired and used ; yea, to have any fever-
ish pressing thirst after gain, even just gain,
or after earthly delights, though lawful, is to
be guilty of those fleshly lusts, and a thing
very unbeseeming the dignity of a Christian.
To see them that are clothed in scarlet em-
bracing a dunghill, Lament, iv. 4, is a
strange sight ; therefore the apostle, having
so cleared that immediately before, hath
the better reason to require this of them, that
they abstain from fleshly lusts.
Let their own slaves serve them ; you are
redeemed and delivered from them ; a free
people, yea kings, and suits it with royal
dignity to obey vile lust ? You are priests
consecrated to God, and will you tumble
yourselves and your precious garments in the
mire ? It was a high speech of a heathen,
That he icas greater and born to greater
things than to be a servant to his body ;
how much more ought he that is born again
to say so ? being born heir to a crown that
fadeth not away, 1 Pet. v. 4.
Again, as the honour of a Christian's
estate is far above this baseness of serving
his lusts, so the happiness and pleasantness
of his estate sets him above the need of the
pleasures of sin. He said before, If ye have
tasted that the Lord is gracious, desire the
sincere milk of the word ; desire that word
wherein ye may taste more of his gracious-
ness. And as that fitly urgeth the appetite's
desire of the word, so it strongly persuades
to this abstinence from fleshly lusts, yea, to
disdain and loathe them. If you have the
least experience of the sweetness of his love,
if you have but tasted of the crystal river of
his pleasures, the muddy puddle of the plea-
sures of sin will be hateful and loathsome to
you ; yea, the very best earthly delights will
be disrelished, and will seem unsavoury to
your taste. The imbittering the breasts of
the world to the godly by afflictions, doth
VER. 11.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
103
something indeed to wean them from them ;
but the breasts of consolation, ths t are given
them in their stead, wean much more effec-
tually.
The true reason why we remain servants
to these lusts, some to one, some to another,
is, because we are still strangers to the love
of God, and those pure pleasures that are in
him. Though the pleasures of this earth
be poor and low, and most unworthy our
pursuit, yet so long as men know no better,
they will stick by those they have, such as
they are. The philosopher gives this as the
reason, why men are so much set upon sen-
sual delights, because they know not the
higher pleasures that are proper to the soul ;
and they must have it some way. It is too
often in vain to speak to men in this strain,
to follow them with the apostle's entreaty, /
beseech you to abstain from fleshly lusts,
unless they that are spoke to, be such as he
speaks of in the former words, such as have
obtained mercy, and have tasted of the
ffraciousness and love of Christ, ichose loves
are better than wine, Cant. i. 2. Oh !
that we would seek the knowledge of this
love, for seeking it we should find it, and
finding it, no force would need to pull the
Jelights of sin out of our hands, we should
throw them away of our own accord.
Thus a carnal mind prejudices itself
Against religion, when it hears that it re-
quires an abstinence from fleshly lusts,
bereaves men of their mirth and delight in
sin : But they know not that it is to make
way for more refined and precious delights.
There is nothing of this kind taken from us,
Aut by a very advantageous exchange it is
made up. In the world ye shall have af-
Jllclion, but in me ye shall have peace. Is
not want of the world's peace abundantly
paid with peace in Christ ? Thus fleshly
lusts are cast out of the hearts of believers as
rubbish and trash, to make room for spiri-
tual comforts. We are barred fellowship
with the unfruitful works of darkness, to
the end ire may have fellowship with God,
and his Son Jesus Christ, 1 John. i. 3, 7-
This is to make men eat angels' food in-
deed, Psal. Ixxviii. 25, as was said of the
manna. The serving of the flesh sets man
below himself, down amongst the beasts,
and the consolations of the Spirit and com-
munion with God raise him above himself,
and associate him with the angels. But let
us speak to the apostle's own dissuasives
from these lusts; 1. From the condition of
Christians. 2. From the condition of those
lusts.
1. From the condition of Christians, as
strangers. These dispersed Jews were
strangers scattered in divers countries, as
chap. i. ver. 1 ; but here that is not intend-
ed ; they are called strangers in that spiri-
tual sense that agrees in common to all the
saints. Possibly in calling them thus, he
alludes to their outward dispersion, but
means their spiritual alienation from the
world, and interest in the new Jerusalem.
And this he uses as a very pertinent en.
forcement of his exhortation. Whatsoever
others do, the serving of the flesh, and love
of the world, is most incongruous and un-
seemly in you. Consider what you are ; if
you are citizens of this world, then you
might drive the same trade with them, and
follow the same lusts ; but seeing you are
chosen and called out of this world, and in-
vested into a new society, made free of ano-
ther city, and are therefore here but travel-
lers passing through to your own country, it
is very reasonable that there be this diffe-
rence betwixt you and the world, that while
they live as at home, your carriage be such
as fits strangers, not glutting yourselves with
their pleasures, nor surfeiting upon their
delicious fruits, as some unwary travellers
do abroad ; but as wise strangers living
warily and soberly, and still minding most
of all your journey homewards, suspecting
dangers and snares in your way, and sc
walking with a holy fear, as the Hebrew
word for a stranger imports.
There is indeed a miserable party even
within a Christian, the remainder of corrup-
tion, that is no stranger here ; and therefore
keeps friendship and correspondence with
the world, and will readily betray him if he
watch not the more : So that he is not only
to fly the pollutions of the tcorld that are
round about him, and to choose his steps
that he be not ensnared from without ; but
he is to be upon a continual guard against
the lust and corruption that are yet within
himself, to curb and controul them, and give
them resolute and flat refusals when they
solicit him, and to stop up their essays and
opportunities of intercourse with the world,
and such things as nourish them, and so to
do what he can to starve them out of the
holds they keep within him, and to strengthen
that new nature which is in him ; to live
and act according to it, though so he shall
be sure to live as a stranger here, and a
despised, mocked, and hated stranger.
And it is not, on the whole, the worse
that it be so. If men in foreign countries
be subject to forget their own at any time,
it is sure then, when they are most kindly
used abroad, and are most at their ease ; and
thus a Christian may be in some dangei
when he is best accommodated, and hath
most of the smiles and caresses of the world ;
so that though he can never wholly forget
his home that is above, yet his thoughts of
it will be less frequent, and his desires of it
less earnest, and it may be he may insensibly
slide into its customs and habits, as men
will do that are well seated in some other
country : But by the troubles and unfriend-
106
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP, it.
liness of the world, he gains this, that when
they abound most upon him, he then feels
himself a stranger, and remembers to behave
as such, and thinks often with much delight
and strong desires on his own country, and
the rich and sure inheritance that lies there,
and the ease and rest he shall have when he
comes hither.
And this will persuade him strongly to
fly all polluted ways and lusts, as fast as the
world follows them. It will make him
abhor the pleasures of sin, and use the al-
lowable enjoyments of this earth warily and
moderately, never engaging his heart to them
as worldlings do, but always keeping that
free, free from that earnest desire in the
pursuit of worldly things, and that deep
delight in the enjoyment of them, which the
men of the earth bestow upon them. There
is a diligence in his calling and prudent re-
gard of his affairs, not only permitted to a
Christian, but required of him. But yet in
comparison of his great and high calling, as
the apostle terms it, he follows all his other
businesses with a kind of coldness and in-
differency, as not caring very much which
way they go, his heart is elsewhere. The
traveller provides himself as he can of enter-
tainment and lodging where it comes : if it
be commodious it is well ; but if not, it is
no great matter, if he find but necessaries,
he can abate delicacies very well. For where
he finds them in his way, he neither can,
nor if he could, would choose to stay there,
though his inn were dressed with the richest
hangings and furniturt ; yet it is not his
home ; he must and would leave it. That
is the character of ungodly men, they mind
earthly things, Philip, iii. 19, they are
drowned in them over head and ears, as
we say.
If Christians would consider how little,
and for how little awhile, they are concerned
in any thing here, they would go through
any state, and any changes of state, either to
the better or the worse, with very composed
equal minds, always moderate in their ne-
cessary cares, and never taking any care at
all for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts of it,
Rom. xiii. 14.
Let them that have no better home than
this world to lay claim to, live here as at
home, and serve their lusts, they that have
all their portion in this life, no more good
to look for than what they can catch here ;
let them take their time of the poor profits
and pleasures that are here : But you that
have your whole estate, all your riches and
pleasures laid up in heaven, and reserved
there for you ; let your hearts be there, and
jour conversation there. This is not the
place of your rest, nor your delights, unless
you would be willing to change, and to have
your good things here, as some foolish tra-
rellers, that spend the estate they should li
on at home, in a little while's braving it
abroad amongst strangers. Will you, with
profane Esau, sell your birth-right for g
mess of pottage," Heb. xii. 16, sell eternity
for a moment, and such pleasures, as a mo-
ment of them is more worth than an eternity
of the other ?
2. The apostle argues from the condition
of their lusts. It were quarrel enough against
fleshly lusts, which war against the soul,
that they are so far below the soul, that they
cannot content, no, nor at all reach the soul ;
they are not a suitable, much less a satisfy-
ing good to it. Although sin hath unspeak-
ably abused the soul of man, yet its excellent
nature and original does still cause a va«t
disproportion betwixt it, and all those gross
base things of the earth that concern the flesh,
and go no further. But this is not all, these
fleshly lusts are not only no benefit to the
soul, but they are its pernicious enemies ;
they war against it ; and their war against
it is all made up of stratagem and slight,
for they cannot hurt the soul, but by itself.
They promise it some contentment, and so
gain its consent to serve them, and undo it-
self; they embrace the soul, that they may
strangle it. The soul is too much diverted
from its own proper business, by the inevit-
able and incessant necessities of the body :
And therefore it is the height of injustice
and cruelty to make it likewise serve the ex-
travagant and sinful desires of the flesh1; so
much time for sleep, and so much for eating
and drinking, and dressing and undressing,
and to many the greatest part of the time
that remains from these, is spent in labour-
ing and providing for those. Look on the
employments of most men ; all the labour of
the husbandmen in the country, and trades-
men in the city, the multitude of shops and
calling, what is the end of them all, but the
interest and service of the body ? And in
all these the immortal soul is drawn down to
drudge for the mortal body, the house oj
clay wherein it dwells. And in the sense
of this, those souls that truly know and con-
sider themselves in this condition, do often
groan under the burden and desire of the
day of their deliverance. But the service of
the flesh in the inordinate lusts of it, is a
point of far baser slavery and indignity to
the soul, and doth not only divert it from
spiritual things for the time, but habitually
indisposes it to every spiritual work, and
makes it earthly and sensual, and so unfits
it for heavenly things : Where these lusts,
or any one of them, have dominion, the soul
cannot at all perform any good ; neither pray,
nor hear, nor read the word aright : And in
as far as any of them prevail upon the soul
of a child of God, they do disjoint and dis-
able it for holy things.
Although they be not of the grossest kind
of lusts, bur such things as are scarce taken
VER. 11.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
107
notice of in a man, either by others, or by
his own conscience, some irregular desires or
entanglements of the heart, ye t these little
foxes will destroy the vines, Cant. ii. 15,
they will prey upon the graces of a Christian,
and keep them very low : Therefore it con.
cerns us much to study our hearts, and be
exact in calling to account the several affec-
tions that are in them ; otherwise even such
as are called of God, and have obtained
mercy, for such the apostle speaks to, may
have such lusts within them as will much
abate the flourishing of their graces, and the
spiritual beauty of the soul.
The godly know it well in their sad ex-
perience, that their own hearts do often de-
ceive them, harbouring and hiding such
things as deprive them much of that liveli-
ness of grace, and those comforts of the Holy
Ghost, that otherwise they would be very
likely to attain unto.
This warring against the soul, which ex-
presses the mischief and hurtfulness of them,
hath this under it, that these lusts, as
breaches of God's law, do subject the soul to
his wrath. So that by this the apostle might
well urge this point. Besides, that these
lusts are unworthy of you : The truth is, if
ycu Christians serve your lusts, you kill your
M uls. So Rom. viii. 13.
Consider, when men are on their death-
beds, and near their entering into eternity,
what they then think of all their toiling in
the earth, and serving their own hearts and
lusts in any kind ; when they see that of all
these ways, nothing remains to them, but
the guiltiness of their sin, and the accusa-
tions of conscience, and the wrath of God.
Oh ! that you would be persuaded to
esteem your precious souls, and not wound
them as you do, but war for them, against
all those lusts that war against them. The
soul of a Christian is doubly precious, being,
besides its natural excellency, ennobled by
grace, and so twice descended of heaven
and therefore it deserves better usage than to
be turned into a scullion, to serve the flesh
The service of Jesus Christ is that which
only fits it ; it is only honourable for th
soul to serve so high a Lord, and its service
is only due to him that bought it at so high
a rate.
VBR. 12. Having your conversation honest ampn;
the Gentiles ; that whereas they speak agains
you as evil-doers, they may, by your good' work
which they shall behold, glorify God in the day o
visitation. ,
THESE two things that a natural man
makes least account of, are of all things in
highest regard with a Christian, his own
soul, and God's glory : So that there be n
stronger persuasives to him in any thing than
the interest of these two ; and by these th
apostle urgeth his present exhortation to holi
ness and blamelessness of life : For the sub
tance of his advice or request in this and
former verse is the same ; a truly honest
onversation is only that which is spiritual,
iot defiled with the carnal lusts and pol-
utions of the world.
The abstaining from thoss lusts doth in-
eed comprehend not only the rule of out-
rard carriage, but the inward temper of the
mind ; whereas this honest conversation doth
nore expressly concern our external deport-
ment amongst men, as it is added, honest
amongst the Gentiles ; and so tending to
he glory of God. So that these two are in-
eparably to be regarded, the inward disposi-
ion of our hearts, and the outward couversa-
ion and course of our lives.
I shall speak to the former first, as the
pring of the latter, keep thine heart with
all diligence. For all depends upon that ;
for from thence are the issues of life, Prov.
v. 23. And if so, then the regulating of
he tongue, and eyes, and feet, and all will
bllow, as there it follows, ver. 24, put away
'rom thee a froward mouth. That the im-
jure streams may cease from running, the
corrupt spring must be dried up. Men may
convey them away in a close and concealed
manner, making them run as it were under
ground, as they do filth under vaults and in
ditches, sentinas et cloacas ; but till the
icart be renewed and purged from base lusts,
it will still be sending forth, some way or
other, the streams of iniquity. Asa fountain
sicelleth out, or casteth forth her waters in-
cessantly, so she casteth out her wickedness,
says the Prophet, Jer. vi. T, of that very
people and city that was called holy by rea-
son of the ordinances of God and profession
of the true religion that was amongst them :
And therefore it is the same Prophet's advice
from the Lord, " Wash thine heart, O Je-
rusalem ; how long shall thy vain thoughts
lodge within thee ?" Jer. iv. 14.
This is the true method, according to our
Saviour's doctrine, " Make the tree good,
and then the fruits will be good ;" not till
then : For " who can gather grapes of thorns,
or figs of thistles?" Matt. vii. 16, 17- Some
good outward actions avail nothing, the soul
being unrenewed : As you may stick some
figs, or hang some clusters of grapes upon a
thorn-bush, but they cannot grow upon it.
In this men deceive themselves, even sucb
as have some thoughts of amendment : when
they fall into sin, and are reproved for it,
they say and possibly think so too, " I will
take heed to myself, I will be guilty of this
no more ;" and because they go no deeper,
they are many of them ensnared in the same
kind again. But however, if they do nevei
commit that same sin, they do but change it
for some other ; as a current of waters, if you
stop their passage one way, they rest not till
they find another. The conversation can
never be uniformly and entirely good, til)
108
the frame of the heart, the affections and de-
sires that lodge in it, be changed. It is na-
turally an evil treasure of impure lusts, and
must in some kind vent and spend what it
hath within. It is to begin with the wrong
end of your work to rectify the outside first,
to smooth the conversation, and not first of all
purge the heart. Evil affections are the
source of evil speeches and actions, ' ' Whence
are strifes and fightings ? (says St. James,)
are they not from your lusts which war in
your members ?" Jam. iv. 1. Unquiet un-
ruly lusts within, are the cause of the un-
quietnesses and contentions abroad in the
world. One man will have his corrupt will,
and another his, and thus they shock and
justle one another ; and by the cross encoun-
ters of their purposes, as flints meeting, they
strike out these sparks that set all on fire.
So then, according to the order of the
apostle's exhortation, the only true principle
of all good and Christian conversation in the
world, is the mortifying of all earthly anc
sinful lusts in the heart. While they have
possession of the heart, they do clog it, anc
straiten it towards God and his ways ; it
cannot walk constantly in them ; but when
the heart is freed from them, it is enlarged
and so, as David speaks, the man is fittec
not only to walk, but to run the way of God's
commandments, Psal. cxix. 32. And with-
out this freeing of the heart, a man will b
at the best very uneven and incongruous in
his ways : in one step like a Christian anc
in another like a worldling; which is an
unpleasant and unprofitable way, not accord-
ing to that word, Psal. xviii. 33. Thou has,
set my feet as hinds1 feel ; set them even
as the word is, not only swift, but straight
and even : and that is the thing here requir-
ed, that the whole course and revolution o:
a Christian's life be like himself : And thai
it may be so, the whole body of sin, and all
the members of it, all the deceitful lusts mus
be crucified.
In the wouls there are three things. 1.
One point of a Christian's ordinary enter-
tainment in the world is to be evil spoken of.
2. Their good use of that evil, to do the
belter for it. 3. The good end and certain
effect of their so doing, the glory of God.
I. One part of a Christian's ordinary treat-
ment in this world, Whereas they speak
against you as evil-doers. ] This is in gene-
ral the disease of man's corrupt nature, and
argues much the baseness and depravedness
of it : This propension to evil-speaking one
of another, either blotting the best actions
with misconstructions, or taking doubtful
things by the left ear, not choosing the most
favourable, but, on the contrary, the very
harshest sense that can be put upon them.
Some men take more pleasure in the narrow
eyeing of the true and real fault! of men,
and then speak cf them with a kind of de-
[CIIAP. II,
ight. All these kind of evil speakings are
such fruits as spring from that bitter root of
iride and self-love, which is naturally deep
'astened in every man's heart : But besides
this general bent to evil-speaking, there is a
particular malice in the world against those
that are born of God, which must have vent
in calumnies and reproaches. If this evil-
speaking be the hissing that is natural to the
serpent's seed, sure, by reason of their natu-
ral antipathy, it must be breathed forth most
against the seed of the woman, those that
are one with Jesus Christ. If the tongues
of the ungodly be sharp sivords even to one
another, they will whet them sharper than
ordinary when they are to use them against
the righteous, to wound their name. The
evil tongue must be always burning that is
set on fire of hell, as St. James speaks ; but
against the godly it will be sure to be heat-
ed seven times hotter than it is for others.
The reasons of this are, 1. Being naturally
haters of God, and yet unable to reach him,
what wonder is it if their malice vent itself
against his image in his children, and labour
to blot and stain that, all they can, with the
foulest calumnies;1 2. Because they are
neither able nor willing themselves to attain
unto the spotless holy life of Christians, they
bemire them, and would make them like
themselves, by false aspersions ; they cannot
rise to the estate of the godly, and therefore
they endeavour to draw them down to theirs
by detraction. 3. The reproaches they cast
upon the professors of pure religion, they
mean mainly against religion itself, and in-
tend by them to reflect upon it.
These evil-speakings of the world against
pious men professing religion, are partly gross
falsehoods invented without the least ground
or appearance of truth ; for the world being
ever credulous of evil, especially upon so deep
a prejudice as it hath against the godly, the
falsest and uust absurd calumnies will al-
ways find so much belief as to make them
odious, or very suspected at least, to such a&
know them not. This is the world's maxim,
Lie confidently, and it will always do some-
thing ; as a stone taken out of the mire and
thrown against a white wall, though it stick
not there, but rebound presently back again,
yet it leaves a spot behind it.
And with those kind of evil-speakings
were the primitive Christians surcharged,
even with gross and horrible falsehoods ; as
all know that know any thing of the history
of those times ; even such things were report-
ed of them, as the worst of wicked men would
scarce be guilty of. The devil, as witty as
he is, makes use again and again of his old
inventions, and makes them serve in several
ages ; for so were the Waldenses accused of
inhuman banquettings and beastly promiscu-
ous uncleanness, and divers things not once
to be named among Christians, much less to
VER. 12.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETKR.
109
be practised by them : So that it is no new
thing to meet with the impurest vilest slan-
ders, as the world's reward of holiness, and
the practice of pure religion.
Then again consider, how much more will
the wicked insult upon the least real ble-
mishes that they can espy amongst the pro-
fessors of godliness. And in this there is a
threefold injury very ordinary. 1. Strictly
to pry into, and maliciously to object against
Christians, the smallest imperfections and
frailties of their lives, as if they pretended
and promised absolute perfection. They do
indeed exercise themselves (such as are
Christians indeed,) with St. Paul, to keep a
good conscience in all thingt towards God
and men, Acts xxiv. 1C. They have a re-
gard unto all God's commandments, as
David speaks, they have a sincere love to
God, which makes them study the exactest
obedience they can reach. And- this is an
imperfect kind of perfection, it is evangelical,
but not angelical. 2. To impute the scan-
dalous falls of some particular persons to the
whole number. It is a very short incompe-
tent rule, to make judgment of any one man
himself by one action, much more to measure
all the rest of the same profession by it ; and
they yet proceed further in this way of mis-
judging. 3. That they impute the personal
failings of men to their religion, and dispar-
age it because of the faults of those that pro-
fess it ; which, as the ancients plead well,
is the greatest injustice, and such as they
would not be guilty of against their own
philosophers. They could well distinguish
betwixt their doctrine and the manners of
some of their followers, and thus ought they
to have dealt with Christians too. They
ought to have considered their religion in it-
self, and the doctrine that it teacheth, and
had they found it vicious, the blame had
been just ; but if it taught nothing but holi-
ness and righteousness, then the blame of any
unholiness or unrighteousness found amongst
Christians was to rest upon the persons them-
selves that were guilty of it, and not to be
stretched to the whole number of professors,
much less to the religion that they professed.
And yet this is still the custom of the world
upon the least failing they can espy in the
godly, or such as seem to be so ; much more
with open mouth do they revile religion,
upon any gross sin in any of its professors.
But seeing this is the very character of a
profane mind, and the badge of the enemies
of religion, beware of sharing in the least
with them in it. Give not easy entertain-
ment to the reports of profane or of mere evil
men, against the professors of religion ; they
are undoubtedly partial, and their testimony
may be justly suspected. Lend them not a
ready ear to receive their evil speakings,
much less your tongue to divulge them, and
set them further going : Yea, take heed
that you take not pleasure in any the least
kind of scoffs, against the sincerity and power
of religion. And all of you that desire to
walk as Christians, be very wary, fhat you
wrong not one another, and help not the
wicked against you, by your mutual miscon-
structions and miscensures one of another.
Far be it from you to take pleasure in hear-
ing others evil spoken of, whether unjustly
or though it be some way deservedly ; yet
let it be always grievous to you, and no way
pleasing to hear such things, much less to
speak of them. It is the devil's delight to
be pleased with evil-speakings. . The Syrian
calls him an akal kartza, eater of slanders
or calumnies. They are a dish that pleases
his palate, and men are naturally fond of his
diet. In Psal. xxxv. 6, there is a word that
is rendered mockers at feasts, or feasting-
mockers ; that feasted men's ears at their
meetings with speaking of the faults of others
scoffingly, and therefore shared with them of
their cakes, or feasts, as the word is ; but to
a renewed Christian mind, that hath a new
taste, and all its senses new, there is nothing
more unsavoury, than to hear the defaming of
others, especially of such as profess religion.
Did the law of love possess our hearts, it
would regulate our ear and tongue, and make
them most tender of the name of our brethren ;
it would teach us the faculty of covering their
infirmities, and judging favourably ; taking
always the best side and most charitable
sense of their actions ; it would teach .us to
blunt the sharp edge of our censures upon
ourselves, our own hard hearts and rebellious
wills within, that they might remain no more
sharp against others, than is needful for their
good.
And this would cut short those that are
without, from a great deal of provisions of
evil-speaking against Christians, that they
many times are furnished with by themselves
through their uncharitable carriage one to.
wards another. However, this being the
hard measure that they always find in the
world, it is their wisdom to consider it aright,
and to study that good which, according to
the apostle's advice, may be extracted out of
it, and that is the second thing to be spoken to,
II. Their good use of that evil. Having
your conversation honest among the Gen-
tiles.] As the sovereign power of drawing
good out of evil resides in God, and argues
his primitive goodness, so he teacheth his
own children some faculty this way, that
they may resemble him in it. He teacheth
them to draw sweetness out of their bitterest
afflictions, and increase of inward peace from
their outward troubles. And as these but",
fetings of the tongue are no small part of
their sufferings, so they reap no small benefit
by them many ways : particularly in this one,
that they order their conversation the better,
and walk the more exactly for it.
110
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP,
And this no doubt in divine providence is
intended and ordered for their good, as are
all their other trials. The sharp censures
and evil-speakings that a Christian is encom-
passed with in the world, is no other than a
hedge of thorns set on every side, that he go
not out of his way, but keep straight on it
betwixt them, not declining to the right hand
nor to the left ; whereas, if they found no-
thing but the favour and good opinion of the
world, they might, as in a way unhedged, be
subject to expatiate and wander out into the
meadows of carnal pleasures that are about
them, that would call and allure them, and
often amuse them from their journey.
And thus it might fall out that Christians
would deserve censure and evil-speakings the
more, if they did not usually suffer them un-
deserved. This then turns into a great ad-
vantage to them, making them more answer-
able to those two things that our Saviour joins
to watch and pray, Matt. xxvi. 41, to be the
more vigilant over themselves, and the more
earnest with God, for his watching over them,
and conducting of them ; make my ways
straight, says David, because of mine ene-
mies, Psal. v. 8. The word is my observers,
or as these scan my ways, every foot of them,
that examine them as a verse, or as a song of
music ; if there be but a wrong measure in
them, they will uot let it slip, but will be
sure to mark it.
And if the enemies of the godly wait for
their halting, shall not they scan their own
paths themselves, that they may not halt;
and examine them, to order them, as the
wicked do to censure them ; still depending
wholly upon the Spirit of God as their guide
to lead them into all truth, and to teach them
how to order their conversation aright, that
it may be all of apiece, holy and blameless,
and still like itself ?
Honest.] Fair or beautiful: the same
word doth fitly signify goodness and beauty :
For that which is the truest and most lasting
beauty, grows fresher in old age, as the Psal-
mist speaks of the righteous, Psal. xcii. as
trees planted in the house of God. Could the
beauty of virtue be seen, said a philosopher,
it would draw all to love it. A Christian
holy conversation hath such a beauty, as when
they that are strangers to it begin to discern it
any thing aright, they cannot choose but love
it ; and where it begets not love, yet it silen-
ces calumny, or at least evinces its falsehood.
The goodness or beauty of a Christian's
conversation consisting in symmetry and con-
formity to the word of God as its rule, he
ought diligently to study that rule, and to
square his ways by it ; not to walk at random,
but to apply that rule to every step at home
and abroad, and to be as careful to keep the
beauty of his ways unspotted as those
»omen are of their faces and attire, that are
most studious of comeliness
But so far are we that call ourselves Chris-
tians from this exact regard of our conversa-
tion, that the most part not only have many
foul spots, but they themselves, and all their
ways, are nothing but defilement, all one
spot, as our apostle calls them, blots are
they and spots, 2 Pet. ii. 13, and even they
that are Christians indeed, yet are not so
watchful and accurate in all their ways as be-
comes, but stain their holy profession either
with pride or covetousness, or contentions, or
some other such like uncomelinsss.
Let us all therefore resolve more to study
this good and comely conversation the apostle
here exhorts to, that it may be such as be-
cometh the gospel of Christ, as St. Paul de-
sires his Philippians, i. 27. And if you live
amongst profane persons, that will be to you
as the unbelieving Gentiles were to these be-
lieving Jews that lived amongst them, tra-
ducers of you, and given to speak evil of you,
and of religion in you, trouble not yourselves
with many apologies and clearings, when
you are evil spoken of, but let the tract of
your life answer for you, your honest and
blameless conversation : That will ba the
shortest and most real and effectual way of
confuting all obloquies. As when one in the
schools was proving by a sophistical argu-
ment, that there could be no motion, the
philosopher answered fully and shortly, by
rising up and walking. If thou wouldst pay
them home, this is a kind of revenge not
only allowed thee, but recommended to thee ;
be avenged on evil-speakings by well doing,
shame them from it. It was a king that
said, It was kingly to do well and be ill
spoke of. Well may Christians acknow-
ledge it to be true, when they consider, that
it was the lot of their King, Jesus Christ :
and well may they be content, seeing he
hath made them likewise kings, as we heard,
ver. 9, to be conformable to him in this too.
This kingly way of suffering, to be unjustly
evil spoken of, and still to go on in doing
the more good, always aiming in so doing, as
our Lord did, at the glory of our heavenly
Father, that is the third thing.
III. The good end or certain effect of this
care recommended, " That they may glorify
God in the day of their visitation." He says
not, they shall praise or commend you, but
shall glorify God. What way soever this
time, this day of visitation be taken, the
effect itself is this, they shall glorify God.
It is this the apostle still holds before their
eye, and that upon which a Christian doth
willingly set his eye, and keep it fixed on it
in all his ways ; he doth not teach them to be
sensible of their own esteem as it concerns
themselves, but only as the glory of their
God is interested in it. Were it not for
this, a generous-minded Christian could set
a very light rate upon all the thoughts and
speeches of men concerning him, whether
VEIl. 12. J
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
Ill
good or bad ; and could easily drown all
their mistakes in the conscience of the favour
and approbation of his God. " It is a small
thing for me to be judged of man, or the
day of man, he that judgeth me is the Lord,"
1 Cor. iv. 3. Man hath a day of judging,
but it, and his judgment with it, soon passes
away ; but God hath his day, and it and his
sentence abideth for ever, as the apostle there
adds, as if he should say, / appeal to God.
But considering that the religion he pro-
fesses, and the God whom he worships in
that religion, are wronged by those reproaches,
and that the calumnies cast upon Christians,
reflect upon their Lord ; this is the thing
that makes him sensible he feels on that side
only ; the reproaches of them that reproach
thee are fallen upon me, says the Psalmist :
And this makes a Christian desirous, even
to men, to vindicate his religion and his
God, without regard to himself; because
he may say, the " reproaches of them that
reproach only me, have fallen upon thee,"
Psal. Ixix. 0.
This is his intent in the holiness and inte-
grity of his life, that God may be glorified ;
this is the axis about which all this good
conversation moves and turns continually.
And he that forgets this, let his conver-
sation be never so plausible and spotless,
knows not what it is to be a Christian ; as
they say of the eagles, who try their young
ones whether they be of the right kind or
not, by holding them before the sun, and if
they can look stedfastly upon it, they own
them, if not they throw them away. Thi
is the true evidence of an upright and real
Christian, to have a stedfast eye on the glory
of God, the Father of lights. In all Let
God be glorified, says the Christian, and
that suffices : That is the sum of his de-
sires ; he is far from glorying in himself,
or seeking to raise himself, for he knows
that of himself he is nothing, but by the
free grace • of God he is what he is.
" Whence any glorying to thee, rottenness
and dust ?" says St. Bernard : " Whence is
it to thee if thou art holy ? Is it not the
Holy Spirit that hath sanctified thee ? ii
thou couldst work miracles, though the}
were done by thy hand, yet it were not by
thy power, but by the power of God."
To the end that my glory may sing praise
unto thee, says David, Psal. xxx. 12
Whether his tongue, or his soul, or both
What he calls his glory he shews us ; ant
what use he hath for it, namely to give the
Lord glory, to sing his praises, and that then
it was truly David's glory when it was so
employed, in giving glory to him, whose
peculiar due glory is. What have we to d
in the world as his creatures, once and agaii
his creatures, his new creatures, created unt>
good works, (Eph. ii. 10) but to exercise our
selves in those, and. by those to advance hi
lory ? that all may return to him, from
fhom all is, as the rivers run back to the
ea from whence they came. Of him and
hrough him, and therefore for him are all
kings, says the apostle, Rom. xi. 3G. They
hat serve base gods, seek how to advance
and aggrandize them. The covetous man
trives to make his Mammon as great as he
an ; all his thoughts and pains run upon
hat service, and so do the voluptuous and
ambitious for theirs ; and shall not they that
profess themselves to be the servants of the
inly great and the only true God, have their
learts much more, at least as much, pos-
essed with desires of honouring and exalt-
ng him ? Should not this be their predomi-
nant design and thought ? What way snail
[ most advance the glory of my God ; how
ihall I, that am engaged more than they
all, set in with the heavens and the earth,
and the other creatures, to declare his excel-
.ency, his greatness, and his goodness ?
In the day of visitation.} The behold -
.ng of your good works may work this in
them, that they may be gained to acknow-
edge and embrace that religion and that
God, which for the present they reject ; but
that it may be thus, they must be visited
with that same light and grace from above,
which hath sanctified you. This I conceive
is the sense of this word, though it may be
and is taken divers other ways by interpre-
ters. Possibly in this day of visitation is
implied the clearer preaching of the gospel
amongst those Gentiles, where the dispersed
Jews dwell ; and that when they should
compare the light of that doctrine with the
light of their lives, and find the agreement
betwixt them, that might be helpful to their
effectual calling, and so they might glorify
God : But to the end that they might do
this indeed, along with the word of God,
and the good works of his people, there must
be a particular visiting of their souls by the
Spirit of God. Your good conversation
may be one good mean of their conversion :
Therefore this may be a motive to that ; but
to make it an effectual mean, this day of
gracious visitation must dawn upon them,
the day spring from on high must visit
them, as it is Luke i. 78-
VER. 13. Submit yourselves unto every ordinance
of man for the Lord's sake, whether it be to the
king as supreme,
VEB. 14. Or unto governors, as unto them that are
sent by him for the punishment of evil-doers, and
for the praise of them that do well.
IT is one of the falsest, and yet one of the
commonest prejudices that the world hath
always entertained against true religion, that
it is an enemy to civil power and govern-
ment. The adversaries of the Jews charg-
ed this fault upon their city, the then seat of
the true worship of God, Ezra iv. 15. The
Jews charged it upon the preachers cf the
112
A COMMENTARY UPON
ICHAP. ir.
Christian religion, Acts xvii. 7, as they
presented the same quarrel against Christ
himself. And generally the enemies of the
Christians in the primitive times loaded them
with the slander of rebellion and contempt
of authority : Therefore our apostle descend-
ing to particular rules of Christian life, by
which it may be blameless, and to silence
calumny, begins with this, not only as a
thing of prime importance in itself, but as
particularly fit for those he wrote to, (being
both Jews and Christians) for the clearing
of themselves and their religion, submit
yourselves, &c.
There are in the words divers particulars
to be considered, all concurring to press this
main duty of obedience to magistrates ; not
only as well consistent with true religion,
but as indeed inseparable from it. Not to
parcel out the words into many pieces, they
may, I conceive, be all not unfitly compris-
ed under these two, 1. The extent of this
duty. 2. The ground of it.
1. The extent of this duty to all civil
power, of what kind soever, for the time re-
ceived and authorized ; there being no need
of questioning what was the rise and origi-
nal of civil power, either in the nature of it,
or in the persons of those that are in posses-
sion of it. For if you will trace them quite
through in the succession of ages, and nar-
rowly eye their whole circle, there be few
crowns in the world in which there will not
be found some crack or other, more or less.
If you look on those great monarchies in
.Daniel's vision, you see one of them built
up upon the ruins of another ; and all of
them represented by terrible devouring beasts
of monstrous shape. And whether the
Roman empire be the fourth there, as many
take it, or not, yet in the things spoken of
that fourth, and the rest, it is inferior to
none of them, enlarging itself by conquests
in all parts of the world : and under it were
the provinces to which this epistle is address-
ed ; yet the apostle enjoins his brethren
subjection and obedience to its authority.
Nor is it a question so to be moved, as to
suspend, or at all abate our obedience to
that which possesses in the present where we
live, what form of government is most just and
commodious ?
God hath been more express in the officers
and government of his own house, his Church
But civil societies he hath left at liberty, in
the choosing and modelling of civil govern-
ment, though always indeed over-ruling their
choice and changes in that, by the secre
hand of his wise and powerful providence.
Vet he hath set them no particular rule touch-
ing the frains of it, only the common rules
of equity and justice were to be regarded
both in the contriving and managing oi
government; and yet though it be some
*ay defective in both, they that be subjec
0 it, are in all things lawful to submit to its
authority, whether supreme or subordinate,
as we have it here expressly, whether to the
king as supreme, namely, to the emperor,
ir to the governors sent by him, which though
1 judicious interpreter refers to God, and will
not admit of any other sense, yet it seems
most suitable both to the words and to the
nature of the government of those provinces,
o take that word to him, as relating to the
ring ; for the them that are sent, answers to
the other the king as supreme, and so is a
ery clear designment of the inferior governors
of those times and places. And whatsoever
was their end that sent them, and their car-
riage that were sent, that which the apostle
adds, expresses the end for which they should
>e sent to govern, and at which they should
aim in governing, as the true end of all
government. And though they were not
?ully true to that end in their deportment,
but possibly did many things unjustly, yet
as God hath ordained authority for this end,
there is always so much justice in the most
depraved government, as is a public good,
and therefore puts upon inferiors an obli-
gation to obedience ; and this leads us to
consider,
2dly, The ground of this duty, for the
Lord's sake.] Now the main ground of
submitting to human authority, is the interest
that divine authority hath in it ; having both
appointed civil government as a common good
amongst men, and particularly commanded
bis people obedience to it, as a particular
»ood to them, and a thing very suitable with
their profession ; it is for the Lord's sake.
This word carries the whole weight of the
duty, and is a counter-balance to the former,
which seems to be therefore on purpose so
expressed that this may answer it. Although
civil authority, in regard of particular forms
of government, and the choice of particular
persons to govern, is but a human ordinance,
or man's creature, as the word" is ; yet both
the good of government, and the duty of sub-
jection to it, is God's ordinance ; and there-
fore, for his sake sttbmit yourselves.
1st, God hath in general instituted civil
government for the good of human society,
and still there is good in it. Tyranny is
better than anarchy. 2dly, It is by his pro-
vidence that men are advanced to places of
authority, Psal. Ixxv. 6, 75 Dan. iv. 25, John
xix. 11. 3dly, It is his command that obe-
dience be yielded to them, Tit. iii. 1, &c.
And the consideration of this ties a Christian
to all loyalty and due obedience ; which being
still for the Lord's sake, cannot hold in any
thing that is against the Lord's own com-
mand ; for then kings and rulers leave their
station. Now the subjection here is, be sub-
jecttot\\em, vttTa.ynr-, as it were in your rank,
still in subordination to God : but if they go
out of that even line, follow them not. They
VER. 13, 14.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
113
that obey the unlawful commands of kings,
do it in regard to their god, no question ;
but that their god is their belly, or their am-
bition, or their avarice.
But not only ought the exercise of autho-
rity, and submission to it, be in things just
and lawful in themselves ; but the very pur-
pose of the heart, both in command and obe-
dience, should be in the Lord, and for his
sake. This is the only straight, and only
safe rule, both for rulers and people to walk
by. Would kings and the other powers of
the world consider the supremacy and great-
ness of that King of whom they hold all their
crowns and dignities, they would be no less
careful of their submission and homage to
him, than they are desirous of their people's
submission to them.
I will not speak at all of their civil obli-
gations to their people, and the covenant of
justice that with good reason is betwixt them
in the fundamental constitutions of all well or-
dered kingdoms ; nor meddle with that point
of the dependence that human authority hath
upon the societies of men over whom it is,
according to which it is here called man's or-
dinance or creature, •i^a-r'^n XTIITII. This
is a thing that the greatest and most abso-
lute of princes cannot deny, that all their
authority is dependent upon the great God,
both as the author of it in the general, and
the sovereign disposer of it to particular men,
giving the kingdoms of the earth to whom
he will, Dan. iv. 25. And therefore they
may most justly require obedience and fealty
of them, that they serve the Lord in fear ;
and if they rejoice in their dignities over
men, yet that they do it with trembling, in
sense of their duty to God, and that they
throw down their crowns at the feet of Christ,
the Lord's Anointed.
And to this they are the more obliged,
considering that religion and the gospel of
Christ doth so much press the duty of their
people's obedience to them ; so that they
wrong both Christianity and themselves very
far, in mistaking it as an enemy to their au-
thority, when it is so far from prejudicing it
that it confirms it, and pleads for it. Sure
they do most ungratefully requite the Lord
and his Christ, when they say, (as Psal. ii.
3,) Let its break their bands asunder, and
cast away their cords from vs. Whereas the
Lord binds the cords of kings and their author-
ity fast upon their people ; not the cords ol
tyranny indeed, to bind the subjects as beasts
to be sacrifices to the passion of their rulers,
but the cords of just and due obedience to
their kings and governors. The Lord doth,
as you see here, bind it upon all that profess
his name ; and strengthens it by the respect
his people carry to himself; enjoining them
that for his sake they would obey their
rulers. So that kings need not fear true re-
ligion, that it will ever favour any thing that
can justly be called rebellion, but on the con-
trary still Urges loyalty and obedience; so
that as they ought in duty, they may in true
policy and wisdom, befriend true religion,
as a special friend to their authority ; and
hate that religion of Rome, which is indeed
rebellion, and that Mother of Abominations
that makes the kings of the earth diunk
cith her cup, Rev. xvii. 2, and makes them
dream of increase of authority while they are
;ruly on the losing hand. But besides that
:hey owe their power to the advancement of
Christ's kingdom, by so employing them-
selves as to strengthen it, they do themselves
jood, they confirm their own thrones, when
hey erect his ; as it was said of Caesar, that
3y setting up Pompey's statue he settled and
'astened his own.
But it is an evil too natural to men, to for-
get the true end and use of any good the
Lord confers upon them. And tlms kings
and rulers too often consider not, for what
they are exalted ; they think it is for them-
selves, to honour and please themselves, and
not to honour God, and benefit their people,
to encourage and reward the good, as here
it is, and punish the wicked : They are sot
on high, for the good of those that are be-
low them, that they may be refreshed with
their light and influence ; as the lights of
heaven are sst there in the highest parts of
the world for the use and benefit of the very
lowest. God set them in the firmament of
(leaven, but to what end ? to give light.upon
the earth, Gen. i. 15. And the mountains
are raised above the rest of the earth, not to
be places of prey and robbery, as sometimes
they are turned to be, but to send forth streams
from their springs into the vallies, Psal.
civ. 10, and make them fertile ; the moun-
tains and hills, greater and lesser rulers, are
to send forth to the people the streams of
righteousness and peace, Psal. Ixxii. 3.
But it is the corruption and misery of
man's nature, that he doth not know, and
can hardly be persuaded to learn, either how •
to command aright, or how to obey ; and no
doubt many of those that can see and blame
the injustice of others in authority, would be
more guilty that way themselves if i-hey had
the same power.
It is the pride and self-love of our nature,
that begets disobedience in inferiors, am1
violence and injustice in superiors. That
depraved humour that ties to every kind oi
government a propension to a particular dis-
ease ; that makes royalty easily degenerate
into tyranny, and the government of nobles
into faction, and popular government into
confusion.
As civil authority, and subjection to it, it
the institution of God ; so the peaceable cor*
respondence of those two, just government,
and due obedience, is the special gift of God's
own hand, and a prime blessing to states and
H
A COMMENTARY UPON
114
kingdoms: And the troubling and inter-
ruption of their course is one of the highest
public judgments, by which the Lord pun-
ishes oftentimes the other sins both of rulers
and people. And whatsoever be the cause,
and on which side soever be the justice of the
cause, it cannot be looked upon, but as a
heavy plague, and the fruit of many and
great provocations, when kings and their peo-
ple, that should be a mutual blessing and
honour to each other, are turned into scourges
one to another, or into a devouring fire, as
it is in the parable, Judges ix. 10, " Fire
going forth from Abimelech to devour the
men of Shechem, and fire from Shechem to
devour Abimelech."
VKR. 15. For so Is the will of God, that with well-
doing ye may put to silence the ignorance of fool-
ish men.
VER. 16. As free, and not using your liberty for a
cloak of maliciousness, but as the servants of God
THIS continues the same reason of the
same Christian duty ; if they will obey the
Lord, then they must obey civil powers, for
that is his will, and they will not deny their
obligation to him, for they are his servants,
ver. 16. The words indeed are more general
than the former, but they relate chiefly in this
place to the particular in hand, so that nei-
ther in that kind nor in any other they dis-
honour their profession, and abuse their lib-
erty, mistaking it as an exemption from those
Juties to which it doth more straitly tie
them. So then the point of civil obedience,
and all other good conversation amongst men,
is here recommended to Christians, as agree-
able to the will of God, and the most effec-
tual clearing of their profession, and very
agreeable to their Christian liberty.
The will of God.] This is the stronges
and most binding reason that can be used t<
a Christian mind, that hath resigned itsel
to be governed by that rule, to have the wil
of God for its law. Whatsoever is require'
of it upon that warrant, it cannot refuse ; al
though it cross a man's own humour, or hi
private interest, yet if his heart he subjectei
to the will of God, he will not stand wit!
him in any thing. This one word from God
/ will have it so, silences all, and carries
against all opposition.
It were a great point if we could be p:r
suaded to esteem duly of this. It were in
deed all ; it would make light and easy wof
in those things that go so hardly on with us
though we are daily exhorted to them. I
it the will of God that I should live soberly
Then though my own corrupt will and m
companions be against it, yet it must be so
Wills he that I forbear cursing and oaths
though it is my custom to use them ? Ye
I must offer violence to my custom, and g
against the stream of all their customs tha
are round about me, to obey his will, wh
wills all tilings justly and holily. Will h
[CHAP H.
ave my charity not omy liberal in giving
ut in forgiving, and real and hearty in both ?
iVill he have me bless them that curse me,
nd do good to them that hate me, and love
nine enemies ? Though the world counts
t a hard task, and my own corrupt heart
iossibly finds it so, yet it shall be done ;
md not as upon unpleasant necessity, but
'illingly and cheerfully, and with the more
lelight because it is difficult ; for so it proves
my obedience the more, and my love to him
whose will it is. Though mine enemies
deserve not my love, yet he that bids me
ove them, does ; and if he will have this
he touch-stone to try the uprightness of my
ove to him, shall it fail there ? No, his will
commands me so absolutely, and he himself
s so lovely, that there can be nobody so un-
.ovely in themselves, or to me, but I can love
them upon his command, and for his sake.
But that it may be thus, there must be a
renewed frame of mind, by which a man
may renounce the world, and the forms of it,
and himself, and his own sinful heart and
its way, to study and follow the only good
and acceptable and perfect mil of God,
Rom. xii. 2, to move most in that line, not
willingly declining to any hand, to have our
whole minds taken up in searching it, and
our whole hearts in embracing it ; " Be ye
not unwise, but understanding what the will
of the Lord is," says the apostle, Eph. v.
17, being about to exhort to particular duties,
as our apostle here is doing.
This is the task of a Christian to under-
stand his Lord's will, and with a practical
understanding, that he may walk in all well-
pleasing unto God. Thus the apostle like-
wise exhorts the Thessalonians pathetically,
1 Epist. chap. iv. 1, and adds, ver. 3,
" This is the will of God, even our sanctifi-
cation." And then proceeds particularly
against uncleanness and deceit, &c.
Let this then be your endeavour, to have
your wills crucified to whatsoever is sinful,
yea to will outward and indifferent things
with a kind of indifferency ; the most things
that men are so stiff in, are not worth an
earnest willing. In a word, it were the only
happy and truly spiritual temper to have our
will quite rooted out, and the will of God
placed in its stead ; to have no other will
but his, that it might constantly, yea so to
speak, identically follow it in all things.
This is the will of God, therefore it is mine.
That with well-doing ye may put to si-
lence the ignorance of foolish men.] Men
void of religion have a higher sense of the
duties of the second table, or of well-doing
towards men, than of those that have imme-
diate relation to God ; and therefore (as in
other Epistles) the apostle is here particular
in these for the vindicating of religion to
them that are without. Ignorance usually
is loud and prattling, making a mighty
VEU. 15, 1G.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
noise, and so hath need of a muzzle to si-
lence it, as the word <piuou> imports. They
that were ready to speak evil of religion, are
called icitless or foolish men ; there was per-
verseness in their ignorance, as the word
iQ'niiai intimates. And generally all kind
of evil-speakings, uncharitable censurings,
do argue a foolish worthless mind whence
they proceed ; and yet they are the usual
divertisement of the greatest part of man-
kind, and take up very much of their con-
verse and discourse ; which is an evidence of
the baseness and perverseness of their minds.
For, whereas those that have most real good-
ness, delight most to observe what is good
and commendable in others, and to pass by
their blemishes, it is the true character of
vile unworthy persons, (as scurvy flies sit
upon sores) to skip over all the good that is
in men, and fasten upon their infirmities.
But especially doth it discover ignorance
and folly, to turn the failings of men to the
disadvantage of religion ; none can be such
enemies to it but they that know it not, and
see not the beauty that is in it. However
the way to silence them we see is by well-
doing, that silences them more than whole
volumes of apologies. When a Christian
walks irreproveably, his enemies have no
where to fasten their teeth on him, but are
forced to gnaw their own malignant tongues.
•As it secures the godly thus to stop the lying
mouths of foolish men, so it is as painful to
them to be so stopt, as muzzling is to beasts,
and punishes their malice.
And this is a wise Christian's way, instead
of impatient fretting at the mistakes or wil-
ful miscensures of men, to keep still on in
his calm temper of mind, and upright course
of life, and silent innocence : This as a rock
breaks the waves into foam that roar about it.
115
vile drudgery of sin, so we are condemned
to the proper wages of sin ; which the
apostle there tells us, is death according to
the just sentence of the law. But our Lord
Christ was anointed for this purpose, to set
us free, both to work and to publish liberty,
to " proclaim liberty to captives, and the
opening of the prison-doors to them that are
bound," Isa. Ixi. 1. Having paid our com-
plete ransom, he sends his word as the mes-
sage, and his Spirit to perform it, effectual-
ly to set us free, to let us know it, and to
bring us out of prison. He was bound and
scourged as a slave or malefactor to purchase
us this liberty, therefore ought it to be our
special care, first to have part in it, and then
to be like it, and stand fast in it in all points.
But that we deceive not ourselves as too
many do that have no portion in this liberty,
we ought to know that it is not to inordi-
nate walking and licentiousness, as our li-
berty, that we are called ; but from them,
as our thraldom ; we are not called from
obedience, but to it. Therefore beware that
you shuffle in nothing under this specious
name of liberty that belongs not to it ; make
it not a cloak of maliciousness, it is too pre-
cious a garment for so bass an use. Liberty
is indeed Christ's livery that he gives to all
his followers : But to live suitably to it, is
not to live in wickedness or disobedience of
any kind, but in obedience and holiness •
you are called to be the servants of God,
and that is your dignity and your liberty.
The apostles of this gospel of liberty glo-
ried in this title, The servants of Jesut
Christ. David, before that Psalm of praise
for his victories and exaltations, being now
settled on his throne, prefixes that as more
honour than all these, A Psalm of David,
the servant of the Lord, Psal. xviii. 1.
As free.] This the apostle adds, lest any ; It is the only true happiness both of kings
should so far mistake the nature of their and their subjects to be his subjects ; it is
Christian liberty, as to dream of an exemp- the glory of the angels to be his ministering
tion from obedience either to God, or to men ; spirits. The more we attain unto the fa-
for his sake, and according to his appointment, j culty of serving him cheerfully and diligent-
Their freedom he grants, but would have ly, the more still we find of this spiritual li-
them understand aright what it is. I can- berty, and have the more joy in it. As it
not here insist at large on the spiritual free-
, dom of Christians, nor is it here needful,
j being mentioned only for the clearing of it in
this point ; but free they are, and they only
.that are partakers of this liberty. // the
I Son make you free, you shall be free in-
\deed, John viii. 36; the rest are slaves to
j Satan, and the world, and their own lusts ;
las the Israelites in Egypt, working in the
| clay, under hard task -masters.
Much discourse and much ink hath been
pilt upon the debate of free will, but truly
I the liberty ithath, till theSonandhis Spirit
free it, is that miserable freedom the apostle
ppeaks of, Rom. vi. 20, " While ye were ser-
its to sin, ye were free from righteousness."
And as we are naturally subject to the
is the most honourable, it is likewise the most
comfortable and most gainful service, and
they that once know it will never change it
for any other in the world. Oh ! that we
could live as his servants, employing all our
industry to do him service in the condition
and place wherein he hath set us, whatsoever
it is ; and as faithful servants, more careful
of his affairs than of our own, accounting it
our main business to seek the advancement
of his glory. " Happy is the servant whom
the master, when he cometh, shall find so
doing," Matt. xxiv. 46.
VKR. 17. Honour all men. Love the brotherhood.
Fear God. Honour the king.
THIS is a precious cluster of divine jn>
ATOMMEXTARY UPON
[CHAP. n.
cepts ; tha whole face of the heavens is adorn-
ed with stars, but they are of different magni-
tudes, and in some parts they are thicker set
than in others. Thus is it likewise in the
holy Scriptures : and these are the two books
that the Psalmist sets open before us, Psal.
xix. the heavens as a choice piece of the
works of God instructing us, and the word
of God, more full and clear than they. Here
is a constellation of very bright stars near to-
gether. These words have very briefly, and
yet not obscured by briefness, but withal
very plainly, <be sum of our duty, towards
God and men ; to men both in general,
honour all men, and in special relations, in
.heir Christian or religious relation, love the
Motherhood ; and a chief civil relation,
konour the king. And our whole duty to
God comprised under the name of Ms fear,
is set in the middle betwixt these as the
common spring of all duty to men; and of
all due observance of it, and the sovereign
rule by which it is to be regulated.
I shall speak of them as they lie in the
text. We need not labour about the con-
nexion ; for in such variety of brief practical di-
rection, it hath not such place as in doctrinal
discourses. The apostle having spoke of one
particular, wherein he would have his bre-
thren to clear and commend their Christian
profession, now accumulates these directions
as most necessary, and after goes on to par-
ticular duties of ssrvants, &c. But first
observe in general, how plain and easy, and
how few these things are that are the rule of
our life. Here are no dark sentences to
puzzle the understanding, nor large dis-
courses and long periods to burden the me-
mory ; they are all plain ; there is nothing
wreathed nor distorted in them, as wisdom
speaks of her instructions, Prov. viii. (5.
And this gives check to a double folly
amongst men, contrary the one to the other,
but both agreeing in mistaking and wrong-
ing the word of God. The one is of those
that despise the word, and that doctrine and
preaching that is conformable to it, for its
plainness and simplicity ; the other of those
that complain of its difficulty and darkness.
As for the first, they certainly do not take
the true end for which the word is designed,
that it is the law of our life ; and it is mainlv
requisite in laws, that they be both brief and
clear ; that it is our guide and light to happi-
ness ; and if that which ought to be our
light be darkness, how great will that dark-
ness be ! Matt. vi. 23.
It is true, (but I am not now to insist on
this point,) that there be dark and deep pas-
sages in scripture, for the exercise, yea, for
the humbling, yea, for amazing and astonish-
ing, of the sharpest sighted readers. But
this ^argues much the pride and vanity of
'
necessary, which are therefore the easiest and
>lainest truths in it. As in nature the com-
nodities that are of the greatest necessity,
God hath made most common and easiest to
>e had, so in religion, such instructions as
these now in our hands, that are both the
most necessary and the plainest, are given us
:o live and walk by : And by giving up
;hemselves wholly to the search of things
that are more obscure, and less useful, men
evidence that they had rather be learned than
loly, and have still more mind to the tree of
knowledge, than the tree of life. And in
learing of the word, are not they that are
any whit more knowing than ordinary, still
japing after new notions ? Something to
idd to the stock of their speculative and dis-
:oursing knowledge ; loathing this daily
manna, these profitable exhortations, and
fequiring meat for their lust. There is an
ntemperance of the mind as well as of the
mouth ; you would think it, and may be,
not spare to call it, a poor cold sermon, that
ivere made up of such plain precepts as these,
honour all men ; love the brotherhood ;
fear God ; honour the king : And yet this
s the language of God ; 'tis his way, this
•bolish despicable way, by which he guides,
and brings to heaven them that believe.
Again, we have others that are still com-
plaining of the difficulty and darkness of
the word of God and divine truths ; to say
nothing of Rome's doctrine, that talks thus,
to excuse her sacrilege of stealing away the
word from the people of God ; (a senseless
pretext, though it were true, because the word
is dark of itself, should il therefore be made
darker, by locking it up in an unknown
tongue ;) but we speak of the common vulgar
excuse, that the gross ignorance and profane,
ness of many seeks to shroud itself under,
that they are not learned, and cannot reach
the doctrine of the scriptures. There be
deep mysteries there indeed ; but what say
you to these things, such rules as these,
honour all men, &c. Are such as these
riddles, that you cannot know their mean-
ing ? rather do not all understand them, and
all neglect them ? Why set you not on to do
these, and then you should understand more 1
A good understanding have all they that do
his commandments, says the Psalmist, Psal.
cxi. 10 ; and as one said well, " The best
way to understand the mysterious and high
discourse in the beginning of St. Paul's
Epistles, is to begin at the practice of these
rules and precepts that are in the latter end
of them." The way to attain to know more,
is to receive the truth in the love of it, and
to obey that you know. The truth is, such
truths as these will leave you inexcusable,
even the most ignorant of you ; you cannot
but know, you hear often, that you out>nt
1 • J « 1 J •"«* »v»iv/ ro . y \_»u UCCH UilVl.1) 111 U>1 VV/14 v/i*6^"»
men s minds when they busy themselves only to love one another, and fear God, &c.; ami
hose, and throw aside altogether the meet 'yet you never apply yourselves in earnest w
. 17-]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
117
the practice of these things, as will appear
to your own consciences, if they deal honest-
ly with you in the particulars.
Honour all men.] Honour in a narrower
sense is not an universal due to all, but pe-
culiar to some kind of persons. Of this the
apostle speaks, Rom. xiii. 8, Render ho-
nour to whom honour is due, and that in
different degrees, to parents, to masters, and
other superiors. There is an honour that
hath, as it were, Casar's image and super-
scription on it, and so is particularly due to
him ; as here it follows, honour the king.
But there is something that goes not unfitly
under the name of honour, generally due to
every man without exception ; and it con-
sists, as all honour doth, partly in inward
esteem of them, partly in outward behaviour
to them. And the former must be the ground
and cause of the latter.
We owe not the same measure of esteem
to all. We may, yea, we ought to take
notice of the different outward quality, or
inward graces and gifts of men ; nor is it a
fault to perceive the shallowness and weak-
ness of men with whom we converse, and to
esteem more highly those on whom God
hath conferred more of such things as are
truly worthy of esteem : But unto the mean-
est we do owe some measure of esteem, 1.
Negatively ; we are not to entertain despis-
ing disdainful thoughts of any, how worth-
less and mean soever. As the admiring of
men, the very best, is a foolish excess on the
one hand, so the total contemning of any,
the very poorest, is against this rule on the
other ; for that contemning of vile persons,
the Psalmist speaks of, Psal. xv. 3, and
commends, is the dislike and hatred of their
sin, which is their vileness, and not account-
ing them for outward respects worthy of such
esteem, as their wickedness does as it were
strip them of. 2. We are to observe and
respect the smallest good that is in any.
Although a Christian be never so base in
his outward condition, in body or mind, oi
very mean intellectuals and natural endow-
ments ; yet they that know the worth of spi-
ritual things, will esteer-. the grace of God
that is in him, in the midst of all those dis-
advantages, as men esteem a pearl, though
in a rough shell. Grace carries still its own
worth, though under a deformed body and
ragged garments ; yea, though they have
but a small measure of that either ; yea, the
very lowest degree of grace, as a pearl of the
least size, or a small piece of gold, yet men
will not throw it away : But, as they say,
the least shavings of gold are worth the keep-
ing. The Jews would not willingly tread
upon the smallest piece of paper in their way,
but took it up ; for possibly, said they, the
name of God may be on it. Though there
was a little superstition in that, yet truly
there is nothing but good religion in it, if
we apply it to men. Trample not on any ;
there may be some work of grace there that
thou knowest not of. The name of God may
be written upon that soul thon treadest on ;
it may be a soul that Christ thought so much
of, as to give his precious blood for it, there-
fore despise it not. Much more, I say, if
thou canst perceive any appearance that it
is such a one, oughtest thou to esteem it.
Wheresoever thou findest the teast trait of
Christ's image, if thou lovest him, thou wilt
honour it ; or if there be nothing of this to
be found in him thou lookest on, yet observe
what common gift of any kind God hath be-
stowed on him, judgment, or memory, or fa-
culty in his calling, or any such thing, for
these in their degree are to be esteemed, and
the person for them. And as there is no
man so complete as to have the advantage in
every thing, so there is no man so low and
unworthy but he hath something wherein he
is preferable even to these that in other re-
spects are much more excellent : or imagine
thou canst find nothing else in some men,
yet honour thy own nature, esteem humanity
in them, especially since humanity is exalt-
ed in Christ to be one with the Deity, ac-
count of him as a man. And, along with
this esteem goes, 3dfy, that general good-will
and affection that is due to men : whereas
there be that do not only outwardly express,
but inwardly bear more regard to some dog
or horse that they love, than to poor distress-
ed men ; and in so doing, do reflect dis-
honour upon themselves, and upon mankind.
The outward behaviour wherein we owe
honour to all, is nothing but a conformity to
this inward temper of mind ; for he that in-
wardly despiseth none, but esteemeth good
that is in the lowest, at least esteemeth them
in that they are men, and loves them as such,
will accordingly use no outward sign of dis-
dain of any ; he will not have a scornful eye,
nor a reproachful tongue to move at any, not
the meanest of his servants, nor the worst of his
enemies ; but on the contrary, will acknow-
ledge the good that is in every man, and give
unto all that outward respect that is conveni-
ent for them, and that they are capable of, and
will be ready to do them good as he hath
opportunity and ability.
But instead of walking by this rale ot
honouring all men, what is there almost to
be found amongst men, but a perverse prone-
ness to dishonour one another, and every man
ready to dishonour all men, that he may
honour himself, reckoning that what he gives
to others is lost to himself, and taking what
he detracts from others, as good booty to make
up himself ? Set aside men's own, interest,
and that common civility that for their own
credit they use one with another, and truly
there will be found very little of this real re-
spect to others, flowing from obedience to
God, and love to men, little disposition to be
113
tender of their esteem and good name, and
their welfare, as of our own ; for so the rule
is, but we shall find mutual disesteem and
defaming filling almost all societies.
And the bitter root of this iniquity is, that
wicked accursed self-love that dwells in us.
Every man is naturally his own grand idol,
would be esteemed and honoured by any
means, and to magnify that idol self, kills
the good name and esteem of others in sacri-
fice to it. Hence is the narrow observing
eye, and broad speaking tongue upon any
thing that tends to the dishonour of others ;
and where other things fail, the disdainful
upbraiding of their birth or calling, or any
thing that comes next to hand, serves for a
reproach. And hence arises a great part of
the jars and strifes amongst men, the most
part being drunk with an over-weening opi-
nion of themselves, and the nnworthiest
most ; a sluggard (says Solomon) is wiser
in his own conceit than seven men that can
render a reason, Prov. xxvi. 16, and not
finding others of their mind, this frets and
troubles them. They take the ready course
to deceive themselves ; for they look with
both eyes on the failings and defeats of others,
and scarce give their good qualities half an
eye ; on the contrary, in themselves, they
study to the full their own advantages ; and
their weaknesses and defects, as one says,
they skip over, as children do the hard words
in their lesson, that are troublesome to read ;
and making this uneven parallel, what won-
der if the result be a gross mistake of them-
selves. Men miscount themselves at home,
they reckon that they ought to be regarded,
and their mind should carry it ; and when
they come abroad, and are crossed in this,
this puts them out of all temper.
But the humble man, as he is more con-
formable to this divine rule, so he hath more
peace by it ; for he sets so low a rate upon
himself in his own thoughts, that it is scarce
possible for any to go lower in judging 01
him : And therefore, as he pays due re-
spect to others to the full, and so gives no kind
of quarrel that way, so he challenges no such
debt to himself, and thus avoids the usua
contests that arise in this. Only by pride
comes contention, says Solomon, Prov. xiii.
10. A man that will walk abroad, throw-
ing out his arms in a crowded street, can-
not choose but be often justled ; but he thai
contracts himself, passes through more easily
Study therefore this excellent grace o
humility, not the personated acting of it in
appearance, which may be a chief agent for
pride, but true lowliness of mind, to be no-
thing in your own eyes, and content to be so
in the eyes of others. Then will you obey
this word ; you will esteem as is meet of al
men, and not be troubled though all men
disesieem you. As this humility is a pre-
cious grace, it is the preserver of all other
A COMMENTARY UPON
[ CHAV. II.
graces, and without it (if they could be with-
out it) they were but as a box of precious
powder carried in the wind without a cover,
n danger to be scattered and blown away.
[f you would have honour, there is an ambi-
ion both allowed you and worthy of you,
whosoever you are, Rom. ii. 7 ; 2 Cor. v.
),
other honour, though it
lave the Hebrew name from weight, is all
too light, and weighs only with cares and
troubles.
Love the brotherhood.} There is a love,
as we said, due to all, included under that
word of honouring all, and a peculiar love to
our Christian brethren, which the apostle Paul
calls by a like word, the Household of faith,
Gal. vi. 10.
Christian brethren are united by a three-
fold cord ; two of them are common to other
men, but the third is the strongest, and theirs
peculiarly ; their bodies are descended of
the same man, and their souls of the same
God ; but their new life, by which they are
most entirely brethren, is derived from the
same God-man Jesus Christ : yea in him
they are all one body, receiving life from him
their glorious Head, who is called the first-
born among many brethren, Rom. viii. 29.
And as his unspeakable love was the source
of this new being and fraternity, so doubt-
less it cannot but produce indissoluble love
among them that are partakers of it. The
Spirit of love and concord is that precious
ointment that runs down from the head of
our High Priest, to the skirts of his gar-
ment. The life of Christ and this law of
love is combined, arid cannot be severed.
Can there be enmity betwixt those hearts
that meet in him ? Why do you pretend
yourselves Christians, and yet remain not only
strangers to this love, but most contrary to
it, biters and devourers one of another, and
will not be convinced of the great guiltiness
and uncomeliness of strifes and envyings
amongst you ? Is this the badge that Christ
hath left his brethren, to wrangle and malign
one another ? Do you not know, on the con-
trary, that they are to be known by mutual
love ? " By this shall all men know that you
are my disciples, if ye love one another."
How often doth that beloved disciple press
this ; he drank deep of that well-spring of
love that was in the breast on which he leaned ;
and (if they relate right) he died, exhorting
this, love one another. Oh ! that there
were more of this love of Christ in our hearts,
arising from the sense of his love to us ; and
that would teach this mutual love more effec-
tually, which the preaching of it may set b :-
fore us ; but without that other teaching, it
cannot work it within us. Why do we still
hear these things in vain ? Do we believe
what the love of Christ did to us, and suf-
fered for us ? And will we do nothing for
him, not forgive a shadow, a fancy of injury
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
119
much less a real one, for his sake ? And
love him that wronged us, whoever it is, hut
especially being one of our brethren in this
spiritual sense.
Many are the duties of this peculiar fra-
ternal love 4 that mutual converse, and ad-
monition, and reproof, and comforting, and
other duties which are in neglect, not only
amongst formal, but even amongst real Chris-
tians. Let us intreat more of his Spirit who
is Love, and that will mend this.
Fear God.] All the rules of equity and
charity amongst men, flow from a higher
principle, and depend upon it ; and there is
no right observing of them without due re-
gard to that ; therefore this word that ex-
presses that principle of obedience is fitly in-
serted amongst these : The first obligement
of man being to the sovereign Majesty of
God that made him, and all their mutual
duties one to another derived from that. A
man may indeed, from moral principles, be
of a mild inoffensive carriage, and do civil
right to all meii : But this answers not the
divine rule even in these same things, and
after the way that it requires them. The
spiritual and religious observance of these
duties towards men, springs from a respect
to God, and terminates there too, it begins
and ends in him ; and generally all obedience
to his commands, both such as regulate our
behaviour towards himself immediately, and
such as relate to men, doth arise from a
holy fear of his name. Therefore this Fear
of God, upon which follows necessarily the
keeping of his commandments, is given us
by Solomon as the total sum of man's business
and duty, Eccl. xii. ult. and so the way to
solid happiness.
It is pronounced by him totum hominis,
the whole of man : After he had made his
discoveries of all things besides under the
sun, gone the whole circuit, and made an
exact valuation, he found all besides this to
amount to nothing but vanity and vexation
of spirit. The account he gives of all other
things was only for this purpose, to illus-
irate and establish this truth the more, and
to make it the more acceptable ; to be a re-
pose after so much weariness, and such a
tedious journey, and so, as he speaks there,
ver. 10, a word of delight as well as a word
of truth, that the mind might sit down and
quiet itself in this from the turmoil anc
pursuit of vanity, that keeps it busy to no
purpose in all other things. But whereas
there was emptiness and vanity that is just
nothing in all other things, there was not only
something to be found, but all in this one,
this fear of God, and that keeping of hit,
here, ver. 11, this word of wisdom, which
s the sum of all, and contains all the rest.
So Job, after a large inquest for wisdom,
searching for its vein, as men do for mines
of silver and gold, hath the return of a now
nventum est, from all the creatures, The
sea says, it is not in me, &c. But in the
close finds he it in this, " The fear of the
Lord, that is wisdom ; and to depart from
ivil, that is understanding," Job xxviii. ult.
Under this fear is comprehended all reli-
gion, both inward and outward, all the wor-
ship and service of God, and all the obser-
vance of his commandments, which is there,
Eccl. xii. and elsewhere, expressly joined
with it ; and therefore is included in it, when
it is not expressed. So Job xxviii, to de-
part from evil, that is understanding, re-
peating the fonner words by that. So Psal.
cxi. 10, it hath in it all holiness and obe-
dience, they grow all out of it. It is the
beginning, and it is the top or consumma-
tion of wisdom, for the word signifies both.
Think it not then a trivial common matter
to speak or hear of this subject ; but take it
as our great lesson and business here OP
earth. The best proficients in it have yet
need to learn it better, and it requires our
incessant diligence and study all our days.
This fear hath chiefly these things. 1.
A reverent esteem cf the Majesty of God,
which is a main fundamental thing in religion,
that moulds the heart most powerfully to the
obedience of his will. 2. A firm belief of
the purity of God, and of his power and jus-
tice, that he loves holiness, and hates all
sin, and can and will punish it. 3. A right
apprehension of the bitterness of his wrath,
and the sweetness of his love : that his in-
censed anger is the most terrible and intole-
rable thing in the world, absolutely the most
fearful of all evils ; and on the other side,
his love, of all good things the best, the most
blessed and delightful, yea the only blessed-
ness. Life is the name of the sweetest good
we know, and yet this loving kindness is
better than life, says David, Psal. Ixiii. 3,
4. It supposes likewise sovereign love to
God, for his own infinite excellency and good-
ness. 5. From all these things springs a
most earnest desire to please him in all
things, and an unwillingness to offend him
in the least ; and because of our danger
through the multitude and strength of temp-
tations, and our own weakness, a continual
self-suspicion, a holy fear lest we should sin,
and a care and watchfulness that we sin not,
and deep sorrow and speedy returning and
humbling before him when we have sinned.
There is indeed a base kind of fear, that
commandments, which is the proper fruit of, in the usual distinction they call servile
that fear. All the repeated declaring of fear : But to account all fear of the judg-
vanity in other things, both severally and { ments and wrath of God a servile fear, (or
altogether in that book, are but so many ( not to stand upon words) to account such a
itrokes to drive and fasten this nail, as it is , fear improper to the children of God, I cou-
120
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. II
ceive is a wide mistake. Indeed, to fear the
punishments of sin, without regard to God
and his justice as the inflicter of them, or to
I'orbear to sin only because of those punish-
ments, so as if a man can be secured from
those, he hath no other respect to God that
would make him fear to offend ; this is the
character of a slavish and base mind.
Again, for a man so to apprehend wrath
in relation to himself, as to be still under
the horror of it in that notion, and not to
apprehend redemption and deliverance by
Jesus Christ, is to be under that spirit of
bondage which the apostle speaks of, Rom.
viii. 15. And though a child of God may
Tor a time be under such fear, yet the lively
actings of faith, and persuasion of God's
love, and the feeling of reflex love to him in
the soul, doth cast it out, according to that
of the apostle, 1 John iv. 18, true or per-
feet love casleth out fear. But to appre-
hend the punishments the Lord threatens
against sin as certain and true, and to con-
sider the greatness and fearfulness of them,
especially the terror of the Lord's anger and
hot displeasure, above all punishments, and
(though not only, no nor chiefly for these)
yet in contemplation of these, as very great
and weighty, to be afraid to offend that God
who hath threatened such things as the just
reward of sin ; this, I say, is not incon-
gruous with the estate of the sons of God,
yea, it is their duty and their property even
thus to fear.
1st, This is the very end for which God
hath published these intimations of his jus-
tice, and hath threatened to punish men L
they transgress, to the end they may fear
and not transgress : So that not to look upon
them thus, and not to be affected with them
answerahly to their intendment, were a very
grievous sin ; a slighjt and disregard put
upon the words of the great God.
2dly, Of all others, the children of God
have the Tightest and clearest knowledge of
God, and the deepest belief of his word, and
therefore they cannot choose but be afraid,
and more afraid than all others, to fall under
the stroke of his hand. They know more
of the greatness, and truth, and justice of
God, than others, and therefore they fear
when he threatens. " My flesh trembleth
for fear of thee, (says David,) and I am
afraid of thy judgments," Psal. cxix. 120 ;
yea, they tremble when they hear the sen-
tence against others, or see it executed upon
them ; it moves them when they see public
executions : " Knowing the terror of the
Lord, we persuade men," says St. Paul, 2
Cor. v. 11, and they cry out with Moses,
Psal. xc. 11, "Who knows the power of
thine anger ? even according to thy fear so is
thy wrath." It is not an imagination nor
invention that makes men fear more than they
need ; his wrath is as terrible as any that
fears it most can comprehend, and beyond
that : So that this doth not only consist
with the estate of the saints, but is their
very character, to tremble at the word of
their Lord. The rest neglect what he says
till death and judgment seize on them ; but
the godly know and believe that " it is a
fearful thing to fall into the hands of the
living God," Heb. x. 31.
And though they have firm promises, and
a kingdom that cannot be shaken, yet they
have still this grace by which they serve
God acceptably icith reverence and godly
fear ; even in this consideration that our
God, even he that is ours by peculiar cove-
nant, is a consuming fire, Heb. xii. 28, 20.
But indeed together with this, yea, more
than with this, they are persuaded to fear
the Lord, by the sense of his great love to
them, and by the power of that love that
works in them towards him, and is wrought
in them by his. " They shall fear the
Lord and his goodness in the .latter days,"
Hosea iii. 5. In those days-rhis goodness
shall manifest itself more than before : the
beams of his love shall break forth more
abundantly in the days of the gospel, and
shall beat more directly and hotter on the
hearts of men, and then they shall fear him
more, because they shall love him more.
This fear agrees well both with faith and
love, yea, they work it. Compare Psal.
xxxi. 23, with Psal. xxxiv. 9, and that
same Psal. xxxiv. ver. 8, with 9, and Psal.
cxii. ver. 1, with 7- The heart touched
with the load-stone of divine love, trembles
still with this godly fear, and yet looks fix-
edly by faith to that star of Jacob, Jesus
Christ, who guides it to the haven of ha, -
piness.
The looking upon God in the face of Jesus
Christ, takes off that terror of his counten-
ance that drives men from him ; and, in th2
smiles of his love that appear through Christ,
there is such a power as unites their hearts
to him, but unites them so as to fear his
name, as the Psalmist's prayer is, Psal.
Ixxxvi. 11. He puts such a fear in their
hearts as will not cause them to depart from,
yea, causes that they shall not depart from
him, Jer. xxxii. 40.
And this is the purest and highest kind
of godly fear, that springs from love ; and
though it excludes, not the consideration of
wrath, as terrible in itself, and some fear of
it, yet it may surmount it ; and doubtless
where much of that love possesses the heart,
it will sometimes drown the other considera-
tion, so that it shall scarcely be perceptible at
all, and will constantly set it aside, and per-
suade a man purely for the goodness and love-
liness oi God, to fear to offend him, though
there were no interest at all in it of a man's
own personal misery or happiness.
But do we thus fear the Lord our God '
VEH. 17- |
What mean then our oaths, and excesses,
and uncleanness, our covetousness, and gene-
rally, our unholy and unchristian conversa-
tion ? This fear would make men tremble,
so as to shake them out of their profane cus-
toms, and to shake their beloved sins out of
their bosoms. The knowledge of the Holy
One causes fear of him, Prov. ix. 18.
But alas ! we know him not, and there-
fore we fear him not. Knew we but a little
of the great majesty of God, how holy he is,
and how powerful a punisher of unholiness,
we should not dare to provoke him thus. He
can kill both body and soul, and cast them
into hell, as our Saviour tells us, Matt. x.
28 ; and he will do so with both, if we will
not fear him, because he can do so ; and it
is told us that we may fear, and so may not
feel this heavy wrath. A little lively spiri-
tual knowledge would go far and work much,
which a great deal, such as ours is, doth not.
Some such word as that of Joseph would do
much, being engraven on the heart, " Shall
I do this evil, and sin against God ?" Gen.
xxxix. 9. It would make a man be at no
more liberty to sin in secret than in public ;
no, not to dispense with the sin of his
thoughts, more than of the openest words or
actions. If some grave wise man did see
our secret behaviour and our thoughts, should
we not look more narrowly to them, and not
«uffer such rovings and follies in ourselves ?
Sure, therefore, we forget God's eye, which
we could not, if we thought of it aright, but
should respect it more than if all men did see
within us.
Nor is this only the main point to be press-
ed upon the ungodly, but the children of God
themselves have much need to be put in mind
of it, and to increase in it. How often do
they abuse the indulgence of so loving a Fa-
ther, and have not their thoughts so con-
stantly full of him, are not in his fear, as
Solomon advises, all the day long, Prov.
xxiii. 17, but many times slip out of his
directing hand, and wander from him, and
do not so deeply feel his displeasure, and so
watch over all their ways, as becomes them ;
and keep close by him, and wait on his voice
and obey it constantly, and are not so hum-
bled and afflicted in their repentings for sin
as this fear requires, but in a slight and su-
perficial degree. They offer much lip-la-
bour, which is but dead service to the liv-
ing God. These are things, my beloved,
that concern us much, and that we ought
seriously to lay to heart : for even they that
are freed from condemnation, yet if they walk
fearlessly and carelessly at any time, he hath
ways enough to make diem smart for it :
And if there were no more, should it not
wound them deeply, to think how they requite
»o great, so unspeakable love ?
Honour the king. ] This was the particu-
lar that the apostle pressed and insisted on
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
121
before, and here he repeats it, as a special
duty of the second table, and a vindication
of religion, which is wrongfully blamed in this
point ; but of this before.
This is out of question in the general,
only in the measure and rule of it is the dif-
ference ; and sure they cannot possibly be
satisfied that are so drunk with power, as to
admit of none at all ; no measure nor rate
for it, no banks nor channels for those rivers,
the hearts and wills of kings, to run in, but
think, that if diey like to run over all, they
may.
This is such a wild conceit, as destroys
both all law of reason in human societies,
and all religious obligement to the laws of
God. For the qualification and measure, I
shall mention no other but that in the text,
that it be always regulated by this, that here
goes before it the fear of God ; that we never
think of any such obedience and honour due
to kings, as crosseth that fear that is due to
God. Let kings and subjects, and all know,
that they are absolutely bound to this. It is
spoke to kings, Psal. ii. 11, Serve the Lord
in fear. And Psal. ix. 6, to all men, " fear
before him all the earth, for he is great, and
greatly to be praised, he is to be feared above
all gods." What is man in respect of him ?
Shall a worm, whose breath is in his nostrils,
stand in competition with the ever-living
God ? Shall an earthen potsherd strive with
his maker ? Let the potsherds strive with
the potsherds of the earth, Isa. xlv. 9.- Let
them work one against another, and try
which is hardest, and so they shall often break
each other ; but woe to him that striveth
with his maker. There is nothing there but
certain perishing. As we conclude in the
question with Rome, of the honour due to
saints and angels ; honour let them have,
and good reason, but not divine honour ; not
God's peculiar : So in this, Give to Caesar
the things that are Caesar's ; but withal
still, Give to God the things that are God's,
Matt. xxii. 21.
But it is a miserable estate of a kingdom,
when debates on this head arise and increase ;
and their happiness is, when kings and peo-
ple concur to honour God. " For those that
honour him he will honour ; and whosoever
despises him shall be lightly esteemed," 1
Sam. ii. 30.
VER. 18. Servants, be subject to your masters with
all fear, not only to the good and gentle, but also
to the froward.
VER. 10. For this is thank-worthy, if a man, for
conscience towards God, endure grief, suffering
wrongfully.
VKR. 20. For what glory is it, if when ye be buf-
fetted for your faults, ye shall take it patiently ?
But if when ye do well and suffer for it, ye take it
patiently, this is acceptable with God.
" THY word (says the Psalmist) is a light
to my feet, and a lamp to my paths," Psal.
cxix. 1 05. Not only a light to please his eyes,
122
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP,
bv the excellent truths and comforts that are
in it, but withal a lamp to direct his feet in
the precepts and rules of life that it gives, to
inform and delight his mind, to order his
course. That philosopher was deservedly com-
mended that drew knowledge most this way,
and therefore was said to have brought phi-
losophy from the clouds to dwell amongst
men, calling it from empty speculations to a
practical strain. Thus we are taught in spi-
ritual knowledge by the word of God. The
Son, the eternal Word, when he came to
dwell with men, and so brought life, and
wisdom, and all blessings from the heavens
down unto them, taught them, both by his
doctrine and perfect example, how to walk ;
and his apostles do, conformably to this pat-
tern, aim at this in their holy writings ; join-
ing withvthe mysteries of faith those rules of
life that show men the straight way to hap-
And as it is spoken of the largeness of
Solomon's wisdom, that " he spoke of all
trees, from the cedar in Lebanon, to the
hyssop that grows out of the wall," 1 Kings
iv. 33, so in this we may see the perfection
of the Holy Scriptures, that they give those
directions that are needful to all ranks and
sorts of men. They speak not only of the
duties of kings, how they ought to behave
themselves on their thrones, and the duty of
their subjects to them in that dignity, and
how ministers and others ought to carry in
the house of God ; but they come in to
private houses, and give economic rules for
them ; teaching parents and children, and
masters, yea, and servants, how to acquit
themselves one to another. Thus here, ser-
vants, be subject to your masters.
As this is a just plea for all the people of
God, that they have right to the use of this
book, being so useful for all sorts, and that
they ought not to be barred it ; so it is a
just plea, against a great part of those that
bar themselves the use of it, through sloth,
fulness and earthly-mindedness, seeing it is
so contempered, that there may be many
things, yea, all the main things in it profit-
able for all, fitted to the use of the lowest
estate and lowest capacities of men. Yea,
it takes (as we see) particular notice of their
condition ; stoops down to take the meanest
servant by the hand, to lead him in the way
to heaven ; and not only in that part of it,
which is the general way of Christians, but
even in those steps of it that lie within the
walk of their particular calling, as here, teach-
ing not only the duties of a Christian, but of
a Christian servant.
Obs. 1. The scriptures are a depth that
few can wade far into, and none can wade
through, (as those waters, Ezek. xlvii. 5,)
but yet all may come to the brook and refresh
themselves -with drinking of the streams of
cording to their strength and stature. Now
this (I say) may be spoken to your shame,
and I wish it might shame you to amend-
ment : that so many of you either use not
the scriptures at all, or in using do not use
them ; turn over the leaves, and it may be
run through the lines, and consider not what
they advise you. Masters, learn your part,
and servants too, hearken what they say to
you, for they pass not you by, they vouch-
safe to speak to you too, but you vouch-
safe not to hear them, and observe their voice.
How can you think that the reading of this
book concerns you not, when you may hear
it address such particular directions unto
you ? Wisdom goes not only to the gates
of palaces, but to the common gates of the
cities, and to the public highways, and calls
to the simplest that she may make them wise.
Besides that you dishonour God, you pre-
judice yourselves ; for does' not that neglect
of God and his word, justly procure the dis-
order and disobedience of your servants to-
wards you, as a fit punishment from his
righteous hand, although they are unrigh-
teous, and are procuring further judgment to
themselves in so doing : and not only thus
is your neglect of the word a cause of youj
trouble by the justice of God, but in regard
of the nature of the word, that if you would
respect it, and make use of it in your houses,
it would teach your servants to respect and
obey you, as here you see it speaks for you ;
and therefore you wrong both it and your-
selves, when you silence it in your families.
Obs. 2. The apostle having spoken of sub-
jection to public authority, adds this of sub-
jection to private domestic authority. It is
a thing of much concernment, the right order-
ing of families ; for all other societies, civil
and religious, are made up of these. Vil-
lages, and. cities, and churches, and common-
wealths, and kingdoms, are but a collection
of families ; and therefore such as these are,
for the most part, such must the whole so-
cieties predominantly be. One particular
house is but a very small part of a kingdom,
yet the wickedness and lewdness of that
house, be it but the meanest in it, as of ser-
vants one or more, and though it seem but a
small thing, yet goes in to make up that
heap of sin that provokes the wrath of God,
and draws on public calamity.
And this particularly, when it declines in-
to disorder, proves a public evil ; when ser-
vants grow generally corrupt, and disobe-
dient, and unfaithful, though they be the
lowest part, yet the whole body of a com-
monwealth cannot but feel very sensibly the
evil of it ; as a man does when his legs and
feet grow diseased, and begin to fail him.
We have here, 1. Their duty. 2. The
due extent of it. 3. The right principle of it.
1st, Their duty, Be subject. Keep your
its living water, and go in a little way, ac- order 'and station 'under piasters, and that
VEU. 18- -20.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
tcilhjear, and inward reverence of mind and
respect to them ; for that is the very life of
all obedience. Then their obedience hath
in it, diligent doing, and patient suffering ;
both these are in that word, be subject. Do
faithfully to your utmost that which is in-
trusted to you, and obey all their just com-
mands, for action indeed goes no further ;
but suffer patiently even their unjust rigours
and severities. And this being the harder
part of the two, and yet a part that the ser-
vants of those times bore, many of them
being more hardly and slavishly used than
any with us, (especially those that were
Christian servants under unchristian masters,)
therefore the apostle insists most on this ;
and this is the extent of the obedience here
required, that it be paid to all kind of mas-
ters, not to the good only, but also to the
tvil ; not only to obey, but to suffer, and to
suffer patiently, and not only deserved, but
even wrongful and unjust punishment.
Now, because this particular concerns ser-
vants, let them reflect upon their own carriage,
and examine it by this rule : and truly the
greatest part of them will be found very un-
confonnable to it, being either closely fraudu-
lent and deceitful, or grossly stubborn and
disobedient, abusing the lenity'and mildness
of their masters, or murmuring at their just
severity : so far are they from the patient
endurance of the least undue word of reproof,
much less of sharper punishment, either
truly, or in their opinion, undeserved. And
truly, if any that profess religion dispense
with themselves in this, they mistake the
matter very much : for it ties them more,
whether children or servants, to be most sub-
missive and obedient even to the worst kind
of parents and masters, always in the Lord,
not obeying any unjust command ; though
they may and ought to suffer patiently (as
it is here) their unjust reproofs or punish-
ments.
But on the other side, this dozs not justify,
nor at all excuse, the unmerciful austerities
and unbridled passion of masters ; it is still
a perverseness and crookedness in them, as
the word is here, o-xoii-.T;, and must have
its own name, and shall have its proper re-
ward from the sovereign Master and Lord
of all the world. But this is the second
branch.
2d, There is also the due extent of this
duty, namely, to the f reward. It is a more
deformed thing to have a distorted crooked
mind, or a froward spirit, than any crooked-
ness of the body. How can he that hath
servants under him expect their obedience,
when he cannot command his own passion, but
is a slave to it ? 'And unless much conscience
of duty possess servants, more than is com-
monly to be found with them, it cannot but
work a master into much disaffection and
disestcem with them, when he is of a turbu-
lent spirit, a trovbler of his own house, em-
bittering his affairs and commands with ri.
gidness and passions, and ready to take
things by that side that may offend and
trouble him, thinking his servant slights his
call, when he may as well think he heard
him not, and upon every slight occasion, real
or imagined, flying out into reproachful
speeches or proud threats, contrary to the
apostle St. Paul's rule, which he sets over
against the duty of servants, Eph. vi. 9,
" Forbearing threatening, knowing that your
Master also is in heaven, and that there is
no respect of persons with him :" Think,
therefore, when you shall appear before the
judgment-seat of God. that your carriage
shall be examined and judged, as theirs ;
and think that, though we regard those dif-
ferences much of masters and servants, they
are nothing with God, they vanish away in
his presence.
Consider who made thee to differ : Might
he not have made your stations just contrary
with a turn of his -hand, and made thee the
servant, and thy servant the master : But
we willingly forget those things that should
compose our minds to humility and meekness,
and blow them up with such fancies r.s
please and feed our natural vanity, and make
us somebody in our own account.
However, that Christian servant that falls
into the hands of a froward master, will not
be beaten out of his station and duty of obe-
dience by all the hard and wrongful usage
he meets with, but will take that as an op-
portunity of exercising the more obedience
and patience, and will be the more cheerfully
patient, because of his innocence, as the
apostle here exhorts.
Men do indeed look sometimes upon this
as a just plea for impatience, that they suffer
unjustly, which yet is very ill logic : for,
as the philosopher said, " Would any man,
that frets because he suffers unjustly, wish
to deserve it, that he might be patient ?"
Now to hear them, they seem to speak so,
when they exclaim, that the thing which
vexeth them most, is, that they have not de-
served any such thing as is inflicted on them :
Truly desert of punishment may make a man
mote silent upon it, but innocence, rightly
Considered, makes him more patient. Guilti-
ness stops a man's mouth indeed in suffering :
But sure it doth not quiet his mind ; on the
contrary, it is that which mainly disturbs and
grieves him, it is the sting of suffering, as
sin is said to be of death, 1 Cor. xv. 56.
And therefore, when there is no guilt, the
pain of sufferings cannot but be much abated ;
yea, the apostle here declares, that to sufftr
undeservedly, and withal patiently, is glo-
rious to a man, and acceptable to God. It
is commendable indeed to be truly patient
even in deserved sufferings ; but the deser-
ving them, tarnishes the lustre of that pa-
124
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP.
tience, and makes it look more like constraint,
which is the apostle's meaning, preferring
spotless suffering much before it. And that
is indeed the true glory of it, that it pleaseth
God ; so that it is rendered in the close of
the 20th verse for the other word of glory in
the beginning of it ; it is a pleasing thing
in God's eyes, and therefore he will thank a
man for it, as the word is, %a°'s *•«?* ^v
Though we owe all our patience under all
kind of afflictions as a duty to him, and
though that grace is his own gift ; yet he
hath obliged himself by his royal word, not
only to accept of it, but to praise it, and re-
ward it in his children. Though they lose
their thanks at the world's hands, and be ra-
ther scoffed and taunted in all their doings and
sufferings, it is no matter ; they can expect
no other there ; but their reward is on high,
in the sure and faithful hand of their Lord.
How often do men work earnestly, and do
and suffer much for the uncertain wages of
glory and thanks amongst men ! and how
many of them fall short of their reckoning ;
either dying before they come to that state
where they think to find it, or not finding it
where they looked for it, so do but live to
feel the pain of their disappointment. Or if
they do attain their end, such glory and
thanks as men have to give them, what a-
mounts it to ? Is it any other but a handful
of nothing, the breath of their mouths, and
themselves much like it, a vapour dying out
in the air ? The most real thanks they give,
their solidest rewards, are but such as a man
cannot take home with him ; if they go so
far with him, yet at farthest he must leave
them at the door, when he is to enter his
everlasting home. All the riches, and pa-
laces, and monuments of honour that he had,
and that are erected to him after death, as
if he had then some interest in them, reach
him not at all. Enjoy them who will, he
does not, " he hath no portion of all that is
done under the sun :" his own end is to him
the end of the world.
But he that would have abiding glory and
thanks, must turn his eye another way for
them. All men desire glory, but most know
neither what it is, nor how it is to be sought.
He is upon the only right bargain of this
kind, whose praise, according to St. Paul's
word, i* not of men but of God, Rom. ii.
29. If men commend him not, he accounts
it no loss, and no gain if they do ; for he is
bound for a country where that coin goes not,
and whither he cannot carry it ; and there-
fore he gathers it not. That which he seeks
in all, is, that he may be approved and ac-
cepted of God, 2 Cor. v. 9 ; whose thanks
Is no less to the least of those he accepts,
than a crown of unfading glory ; not a pooi
servant that fears his name, and is obedient
and patient for his sake, but shall be so re-
V ardcd.
There be some kind of graces and good
ictions that men (such as regard any grace)
take special notice of, and commend highly,
such as are of a magnific and remarkable
nature, as martyrdom, or doing or suffering
for religion in some public way. There be
again other obscure graces, that if men de-
spise not, yet they esteem not much, as
meekness, gentleness, and patience under
private crosses, known to few or none : and
yet these are of great account with God, and
therefore should be so with us. These are
indeed of more universal use ; whereas the
other are but for high times, as we say, for
rare occasions : These are every one's work,
but few are called to the acting of the other.
And the least of them shall not lose their
reward, in whose person soever, as St. Paul
tells us, speaking of this same subject, Eph.
vi. 8, " Knowing that whatsoever good thing
any man doth, the same shall he receive ot
the Lord, whether he be bond or free."
This is the bounty of that great Master
we serve : For what are we, and all we can
do, that there should be a name of a reward
to it ? Yet he keeps all in reckoning ; not
a poor lame prayer, not a tear, nor a sigh,
poured forth before him, shall be lost. No'
any cross from his own hand immediately,
or coming through men's hands, that is taken,
what way soever it come, as out of His hand,
and carried patiently, yea and welcomed and
embraced for his sake, but he observes our
so entertaining of it. Not an injury that the
meanest servant bears christianly, but goes
upon account with him, and he sets them so,
as that they bear much value through his
esteem and way of "reckoning them, though
in themselves they are all less than nothing ;
as a worthless counter stands for hundreds
or thousands, according to the place you set it
in. Happy they that have to deal with such
a Lord, and, be they servants or masters, arj
vowed servants to him. " When he comes,
his reward shall be with him," Rev. xxii. 12.
The 3d thing is, the principle of his
obedience and patience, for conscience to-\
wards God.
It imports the knowledge of God, and ofj
his will in some due measure, and a con-
scientious respect unto him, and his will so
known, taking it for their only rule in doing
and suffering. We may observe here,
1. That this declares to us the freeness of
the grace of God in regard to men's outward
quality, that he doth often bestow the riches
of his grace upon persons of mean condition.
It is supposed here, that this conscience of
God, the saving knowledge and. fear of his,
name, is to be found in servants : Therefore
the apostle takes them within the address of
his letter, amongst those that are elect ac-
cording to the foreknowledge of God, chap,
i. ver. 2, and sharers of those dignities he
i mentions, vcr. J), a chosen generation. The
VZ&. 18—20.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
125
honour of a spiritual royalty may consist
with the meanness of a servant ; and this
grace may be conferred upon the servant,
and denied to the master, as is here suppos-
ed : It may fall out that a perverse crooked-
minded master may have a sen-ant upright-
ly minded, being endued with a tender re-
spectful conscience towards God ; and thus
the Lord counteracts the pride of man, and
sets off the lustre of his own free grace. He*
hath all to choose on, and yet chooses there,
where men would least imagine it, Matthew
xi. 25 ; 1 Cor. i. 27.
2. Grace finds a way to exert itself in
every estate where it is, and regulates the
soul to the particular duties of that estate.
If it find a man high or low, a master or a
servant, it requires not a change of his sta-
tion, but works a change on his heart, and
teaches him how to live in it. The same spi-
rit that makes a Christian master pious, and
gentle, and prudent in commanding, makes
a Christian servant faithful, and obsequious,
and diligent in obeying. A skilful engraver
makes you a statue indifferently of wood, or
stone, or marble, as they are put into his
hand ; and grace forms a man to a Christian
way of walking in any estate. There is a
way for him, in the meanest condition, to
glorify God, and to adorn the profession of
religion ; no estate so low as to be shut out
from that ; and a right informed, and right
affected conscience towards God, shews a
man that way, and causes him to walk in
it. As the astrologers say, that the same
stars that made Cyrus to be chosen king
amongst the armies of men when he came to
be a man, made him to be chosen king
amongst the shepherds' children when he was
a child. Thus grace will have its proper
operation in every estate.
In this men readily deceive themselves ;
they can do any thing well in imagination,
better than the real task that is in their
hands. They presume, that they could do
God good service in some place of command,
that serve him not as becomes in that which
is by far the easier, the place of obeying,
wherein he hath set them ; they think if they
had the ability and opportunities that some
men have, they would do much more for re-
ligion and for God than they do, and yet do
nothing, but spoil a far lower part than that
which is their own, and is given them to
study and act aright in. But our folly and
self-ignorance abuses us ; it is not our part
to choose what we should be, but to be what
we are, to his glory, that gives us to be such :
Be thy condition never so mean, yet thy
conscience towards God, if it be within thee,
will find itself work in that. If it be little
that is entrusted to thee, in reward of thy
outward condition, or any other way, be thou
faithful in that little, as our Saviour speaks,
and *he reward shall not be little : " 1-e
shall make thee ruler over much," Mat.
xxv. 23.
3. As a corrupt mind debaseth the best
and most excellent callings and actions, so
the lowest are raised above themselves, and
ennobled by a spiritual mind. A magistrate
or minister, though their calling and em-
ployments be high, may have low intentions ;
and draw down their high calling to these
low intentions ; they may seek themselves,
and self-ends, and neglect God. And a
sincere Christian may elevate his low call-
ing, by this conscience of God, observing
his will, and intending his glory in it. An
eagle may fly high, and yet have its eyes
down upon some carrion on the earth ; even
so, a man may be standing on the earth,
and on some low part of it, and yet have his
eye upon heaven, and be contemplating it.
That which one man cannot see in another,
is the very thing that is most considerable in
their actions, namely, the principle whence
they flow, and the end to which they tend.
This is the form and life of actions, that by
which they are earthly or heavenly. What-
soever be the matter of them, the spiritual
mind hath that alchymy indeed, of turning
base metals into gold, earthly employments
into heavenly. The handy-work of an ar-
tisan or servant that regards God, and eyes
him, even in that work, is much holier than
the prayer of an hypocrite ; and a servant
enduring the private wrongs and harshness
of a froward master, bearing it patiently for
the conscience of God, is more acceptable to
God, than the sufferings of such, as may
endure much for a public good cause, with-
out a good and upright heart.
This habit and posture of the heart to-
wards God, the apostle St. Paul presses
much upon servants, Eph. vi. 8, as being
very needful to allay the hard labour and
harsh usage of many of them. This is the
way to make them easy, to undergo them for
God. There is no pill so bitter, but respect
and love to God will sweeten it. And this
is a very great refreshment and comfort to a
Christian in the mean estate of a servant, or
other labouring men, that they may offer up
their hardship and bodily labour as a sacrifice
to God, and say, " Lord, this is the station
wherein thou hast set me in the world, and
I desire to serve thee in it. What I do is
for thee, and what I suffer I desire to bear
patiently and cheerfully for thy sake, in sub-
mission and obedience to thy will."
For conscience.] In this there is, I. A
reverent compliance with God's disposal, both
in allotting to them that condition of life, and
particularly choosing their master for them ;
though possibly not the mildest and pleasant,
est, yet the fittest for their good. There is
much in the firm believing of this, and hearty
submitting to it : For we would naturally
rather crave for our>:lves, and shape our owu
12G
A COMMENTARY UPON
| CHAP.
pstate to our mind, which is a most fjolish,
yea. an impious presumption, as if we were
wiser than he that hath done it ; and as if
there were not as much, and, it may be,
more possibility of true contentment in a
mean, than in a far higher condition. The
master's mind is often more toiled than the
servant's body. But if our condition be ap-
pointed us, at least we would have a voice in
some qualifications and circumstances of it :
As in this, if a man must serve, he would
wish willingly, that God would allot him a
meek gentle master ; and so in other things.
If we must be sick, we would be well ac-
commodated, and not want helps ; but to
have sickness, and want means and friends
for our help, this we cannot think of without
horror. But this submission to God is never
right till all be given up into his hand that
concerns us, to do with it, and every article
and circumstance of it, as seems good in his
eyes. 2. In this conscience, is a religious and
observant respect to the rule God hath set
men to walk by in that condition ; so that
their obedience depends not upon any exter-
•nal inducement, failing when that fails, but
flows from an in ward, impression of the law
of God upon the heart. Thus, a servant's
obedience and patience will not be pinned to
the goodness and equity of his master, but,
when that fails, will subsist upon its own in-
ward ground ; and so generally in all other
estates. This is the thing that makes sure
and constant walking ; makes a man step
even in the ways of God. When a man's
obedience springs from that unfailing, un-
changing reason, the command of God, it is
a natural motion ; and therefore keeps on
and rather grows than abates : But the]
that are moved by things outward must offer
fail : because these things are not constan
in their moving ; as for instance, when a
people are much actuated by the spirit o:
their rulers, as the Jews when they had goo<
kings. 3. In this is a tender care of the
glory of God, and the adornment of religion
which the apostle premised before these par
ticular duties, as a thing to be specially re
garded in them. The honour of our Lord'
name is that we should set up, as the mar]
to aim all our actions at : But alas ! eithe
we think not on it, or our hearts slip out, an
start from their aim, like bows of deceit, a
the word is, Isa. Ixxviii. 57. 4. There i
the comfortable persuasion of God's approba
lion and acceptance, as it is expressed in th
following verse, (of which somewhat before,
and the hope of that reward he hath promis
ed, as it is, Col. iii. 24, to servants, Know
ing that of the Lord ye shall receive the in
heritance,for ye serve the Lord Christ. N(
less than the inheritance. So then sucl
Servants as these, arc sons and heirs of God
co-heirs with Christ. Thus, he that is .
servant may be in a far more excellent stat
ban his master : The servant may hope
or, and aim at a kingdom, while the master
s embracing a dunghill. And they that are
hus, think highly of God's free grace ; and
he looking even to that inheritance makes
hem go cheerfully through all pains and
roubles here, as light and momentary, and
not worth the naming in comparison of that
'lory that shall be re oealed, Rom. viii. 16
» — 18. In the mean time, the best and most
:asy condition of the sons of God cannot
satisfy them, nor stay their sighs and groans,
waiting and longing for that day of their
'ull redemption, ib. ver. 23.
Now, this is the great rule, not only for
servants, but for all the servants of God, in
what estate soever, to set the Lord always
before them, Psal. xvi. 8, and to study with
St. Paul, to have a conscience void of of-
fence towards God and man, Acts xxiv. l(J ;
to eye, and to apply constantly to their ac-
tions and their inward thoughts, the com-
mand of God ; to walk by that rule abroad,
and at home in their houses, and in the se-
veral ways of their calling ; as an exact work,
man is ever and anon applying his rule to
his work, and squaring it ; and from con-
science towards God, to do and suffer his will
cheerfully in every thing, being content that
he choose their condition and their trials for
them : only desirous to be assured, that he
hath chosen them for his own, and given
them right to the glorious liberty of the sons
of God, Rom. viii. 21, still endeavouring to
walk in that way that leads to it ; overlook-
ing this moment, and all things in it ; ac-
counting it a very indifferent matter what is
their outward state here in this moment, pro-
vided they may be happy in eternity. Whe-
ther we be high or low here, bond or free, it
imports little, seeing all these differences will
be so quickly at an end, and there shall not be
so much as any track or footstep of them left
with particular men. It is so in their graves ;
you may distinguish the greater from the less
by their tombs, but by their dust you cannot :
And with the whole world it shall be so in
the end. All monuments and palaces, with
cottages, shall be made fire, as our apostle
tells us : The elements shall melt with
fervent heat, and the earth and all the
works therein shall be burnt up, 2 Pet. iii.
10.
VER. 21. For even hereunto were ye called ; be-
caus3 Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an ex-
ample, that ye should follow his steps :
VER. 22. Who did no sin, neither was guile found
in his mouth :
\KR. 23. Who, when he was reviled, reviled not
again ; when he suffered, he threatened not; but
committed himself to Him that judgeth righteous-
ly-
THE rules that God hath set men to live
by are universally just, and there is an uni-
versal obligation upon all men to obey them ;
but as they are particularly addressed to his
TER. 21—23.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
127
own people in his word, they are out of ques-
tion particularly bound to yield obedience,
and have many peculiar persuasives to it,
that extend not to others, which are there-
fore usually represented to them, and pressed
upon tliem in the holy scriptures. Thus the
preface of the laws runs to Israel ; besides
that, / am Jehovah, and have supreme power
to give men laws, is added, / am thy God,
especially thy Deliverer from slavery and
bondage, and so have a peculiar right to thy
obedience ; so Deut. vii. 6. Thus the apos-
tle here urgeth this point in hand, of inoffen-
siveness and patience, particularly in Chris-
tian servants : But so as it fits every Chris-
tian in his station, for hereunto, says he, ye
are called. Whatsoever others do, though
they think this too strait a rule, yet you are
tied to it by your own calling and profession,
as you are Christians ; and this is evidently the
highest and clearest reason that can be, and
of greatest power with a Christian, namely,
the example of Jesus Christ himself; for
Christ also suffered for us, &c.
So it is all but one entire argument, that
they ought thus to behave themselves, be-
cause it is the very thing they are called to,
as their conformity to Jesus Christ, whose
they profess to be, yea, with whom, as Chris-
'ians, they profess themselves to be one.
Hereunto are ye called.~\ This, in the
general, is a thing that ought to be ever be-
fore our eye, to consider the nature and end
of our calling, and to endeavour in all things
to suit it ; to think in every occurrence, what
doth the calling of a Christian require of me
in this ? But the truth is, the most do not
mind this ; we profess ourselves to be Chris-
tians, and never think what kind of behavi-
jur this obliges us to, and what manner of
persons it becomes us to be, in all holy con-
versation, but walk disorderly out of our
rank, inordinately. You that are profane,
were you called by the gospel to serve the
world and your lusts, to swearing, and rioting,
and voluptuousness ? Hear you not the
apostle testifying the contrary, in express
terms, That God hath not called us to un-
cleaintess, but unto holiness, 1 Thess. iv.
?• You that are of proud contentious spirits,
are you suitable to this holy calling ? No,
for we are called to peace, I Cor. vii. 15,
says the same apostle. But we study not
this holy calling, and therefore we walk so in-
| congruously, so unlike the gospel, ice lie,
i and do not lite truth, as St. John speaks,
; i John i. 6 ; our actions belie us.
The particular things that Christians are
here said to be called to, are suffering as
their lot, and patience as their duty, even
under the most unjust and undeserved suf-
ferings.
And both these are as large as the sphere
of this calling. Not only servants, and
oihtrs of mean condition, who, lying low, are
the most subject to rigours and injuries, but
generally all, who are called to godliness, are
likewise called to sufferings, 2 Tim. iii. 12.
All that will follow Christ, must do it in his
livery ; they must take up their cross. This is
a very harsh and unpleasing article of the gos-
pel to a carnal mind, but it conceals it not.
Men arc not led blindfold upon sufferings, and
drawn into a hidden snare by the gospel's in-
vitations : They arc told very often, that
they may not pretend a surprisul, nor have
any just plea for starting back again, as our
Saviour tells his disciples, why he was so
express and plain with them in this : These
things, says he, have I told yon, that you lie
not offended, John xvi. 1. I have shewed
you the ruggcdncss of your way, that you
may not stumble at it, taking it to be a plain
smooth one : But then where this is spoke
of, it is usually allayed with tne mention of
those comforts that accompany these suffer-
ings^ or that glory that follows them. The
doctrine of the apostles, which was so exact-
ly verified in their own persons, was this,
Acts xiv. 22, That throuyh much tribula-
tion we must enter into the kingdom of God.
An unpleasant way indeed, if you look no
further, but there is a kingdom at the end 01
it, and the kingdom of God will transfuse
pleasure into the most painful step in this
way. It seems a sad condition, that falls to
the share of godly men in the world, to be
eminent in sorrows and troubles. Many are
the afflictions of the righteous, Psal. xxxiv.
19 ; but that which follows weighs them
abundantly down in consolation, that the
Lord himself is engaged in their afflictions,
both for their deliverance out of them in due
time, and, in the mean time, for their sup-
port and preservation under them : The Lord
delivers them out of them all. And till he
does that, he keepeth all their bones, &c.
which was literally verified in the natural
body of Christ, as St. John observes, John
xix. 36, and holds spiritually true in his
mystical body. The Lord supports the
spirits of believers in their troubles with such
solid consolations, as are the pillars and
strength of their souls, as the bones are of
their body, as the Hebrew word for them im-
ports, so he keepeth all his bones ; and the
desperate condition of wicked men is opposed
to this, to illustrate it, ver. 21, But evil shall
slay the wicked.
Thus (John xvi. in the close,) they are
forewarned what to expect at the world's
hands, as they were divers times before in
that same sermon : But it is a sweet test*,
ment, take it altogether, ye shall have tn-
bulation in the world, but peace in me;
and seeing he hath jointly bequeathed these
two to his followers, were it not great folly
to renounce such a bargain, and to let go
that peace for fear of this trouble ? The
trouble is but in the world, but the peait
128
A COMMENTARY UPON
(CIIAV. II.
i- in Him who weighs down thousands of the world, and human iniquity, and to be
willingly carried along with the stream of
divine Providence, and not at all to stir a
land, no nor a thought, to row against that
worlds.
So then, they do exceedingly mistake and
misreckon, that would reconcile Christ and
the world, that would have the Church of mighty current ; and not only is he earned
Christ, or at least themselves for their own -'"• >> »"«•"'
shares, enjoy both kinds of peace together ;
would willingly have peace in Christ, but
are very loath to part with the world's peace ;
they would be Christians, but they are very
ill satisfied when they hear of any thing but
ease and prosperity in that estate, and will-
ingly forget the tenor of the Gospel in this ;
and so when times of trouble and sufferings
come, their minds are as new and uncouth
to it, as if they had not been told of it before-
hand. They like better St. Peter's carnal
advice to Christ, to avoid suffering, Matt,
xvi. 22, than his apostles' doctrine to Chris-
tians, teaching them, that as he suffered^ so
they likewise are called to suffering. Men
are ready to think as Peter did, that Christ
should favour himself more in his own body,
his Church, than to expose it to so much
suffering : and most would be of Rome's
mind in this, at least in affection, that the
badge of the Church should be pomp and
prosperity, and not the cross ; the true cross
of afflictions and sufferings is too heavy
and painful.
But God's thoughts are not ours ; those
whom lie calls to a kingdom, he calls to suf-
ferings, as the way to it. He will have the
heirs of heaven know, they are not at home
on earth, and that this is not their rest.
He will not have them with the abused world,
fancy a happiness here, and seek a happy life
in the region of death, as St. Augustinsays,*
The reproaches and wrongs that encountei
them shall elevate their minds often to that
land of peace and rest, where righteousness
dwells, 2 Pet. iii. 13. The hard taskmasters
shall make them weary of Egypt, (which"
otherwise possibly they would comply too wel]
with,) and dispose them for deliverance, and
make it welcome ; which, it may be, they
might but coldly desire, if they were better
used.
He knows what he does, who secretly
serves his good ends of men's evil, and, by
the plowers that make long furrows on the
back of his church, Psal. cxxix. 3, makes it
a fruitful field to himself. Therefore it is
a great folly and unadvisedness, to take up
a prejudice against his way, and think it
might be better as we would model it, and
to complain of the order of things ; whereas
we should complain of disordered minds ;
but we had rather have all altered and changei
for us, the very course of providence, than
seek the change of our own perverse hearts :
Whereas the right temper of a Christian is,
to run always cross to the corrupt stream ol
• Bvatam vitam quaerere in regione mortis.
with it upon necessity, because there is no
steering against it, but cheerfully and volun-
tarily ; not because he must, but because he
would.
And this is the other thing to which they
are jointly called, as to suffering, so to calm-
ness of mind, and patience in suffering,
although their suffering be most unjust ; yea,
this is truly a part of that duty they are call-
ed to, a part of that integrity and inoffen-
siveness of life that may make their suffer-
ings at men's hands always unjust. The
intire duty here is innocence and patience,
doing wilfully no wrong to others, and yet
cheerfully suffering it when done to them-
selves. If either of the two be wanting, their
suffering doth not credit their profession,
but dishonours it. If they be patient under
deserved suffering, their guiltiness darkens
their patience : and if their sufferings be un-
deserved, yea, and the cause of them honour-
able, yet impatience under them stains both
their sufferings and their cause, and seems
in part to justify the very injustice that is
used against them : But where innocence
and patience meet together in suffering, there
sufferings are in their perfect lustre. These
are they that honour religion, and shame the
enemies of it. It was the concurrence of
these two that was the very triumph of the
martyrs in times of persecution, that torment-
ed their tormentors, and made the former
more than conquerors, Rom. viii. 37, even
in sufferings.
Now, that we are called both to suffering,
and to this manner of suffering, the apostle
puts out of question, by the supreme example
of our Lord Jesus Christ ; for the sum of
our calling is, to follow him. Now, in both
these, in suffering, and in suffering innocent-
ly and patiently, the whole history of the
gospel testifies how complete a pattern he is.
And the apostle gives us here a summary,
yet a very clear account of it.
The words have in them these two things ;
1. The perfection of this example. 2. Our
obligation to follow it.
I. The example he sets off to the full,
1. In regard of the greatness of his suffer-
ings. 2. Of his spotlessness and patience
in suffering.
The first we have in that word he suffer-
ed^ and after, ver. 24, we have his crucify-
ing and his stripes expressly specified.
Now, this is reason enough, and carries it
beyond all other reason, why Christians are
called to a suffering life, seeing the Lord
and Author of that calling suffered himself
so much. The Captain or Leader of our
salvation, as the apostle speaks, was const;-
VER. 21— 23. J
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
129
crated by suffering, Heb. ii. 10, that was
the way by which he entered into the holy
place, where he is now our everlasting
High-priest, making intercession for us.
If he be our leader to salvation, must not we
follow him in the way he leads, whatsoever
it is ? if it be (as we see it is) by the way
of sufferings, we must either follow on in
that way, or fall short of salvation ; for there
is no other leader, nor other way but that
which he opened : So that there is not only a
congruity in it, that his followers be conform-
ed to him in suffering, but a necessity, if they
will follow him on till they attain to glory.
And the consideration of both these cannot
but argue a Christian into a resolution for
this via regia, this royal way of suffering
that leads to glory, through which their
King and Lord himself went to his glory.
It could hardly be believed at first that this
was his way, and we can as hardly yet be-
lieve that it must be ours, Luke xxiv. 25,
26, " O fools and slow of heart to believe !
ought not Christ to have suffered these
things, and so enter into his glory ?"
Would you be at glory, and will you not
follow your leader in the only way to it ?
Must another way be cut out for you by
yourself? O absurd ! Shall the servant,
(says he) be greater than his master ? John
xiii. 16. Are not you fairly dealt with, if
you have a mind to Christ ? You shall have
full as much of the world's good will as he
had : // it hate you, he bids you remember
how it hated him, John xv. 18.
But though there were a way to do other-
wise, would you not rather choose (if the
love of Christ possessed your hearts) to share
with him in his lot, and would you not find
delight in the very trouble of it ? Is not
thiy conformity to Jesus the great ambition
of all his true-hearted followers ? " We
carry about in the body the dying of the
Lord Jesus," says the great apostle, 2 Cor.
iv. 10. Besides the unspeakable advantage
to come that goes linked with this, that if we
suffer with him, we shall reign with him,
2 Tim. ii. 12. There is a glory, even in
this present resemblance, that we are con-
formed to the image of the Son of God in
sufferings. Why should we desire to leave
him ? Are you not one with him ? Can you
choose but have the same common friends
and enemies ? Would you willingly, if it
might be, could you find in your heart to be
friends with that world that hated your Lord
and Mast«r ? Would you have nothing but
kindness and ease, where he had nothing
but enmity and trouble ? Or, would you not
rather, when you think right of it, refuse
and disdain to be so unlike him ? As that
good Duke said, when they would have
crowned him King of Jerusalem, No, said
he, by no means, I will not wear a crown of
gold where Jesus was crowned with thorns.
2. This spotlessness and patience in suf-
fering are both of them here set before us ;
the one, ver. 22, the other ver. 23.
Whosoever thou art that makest a noise
about the injustice of what thou sufferest,
and thinkest to justify thy impatience by thine
innocence, let me ask thee, Art thou more
just and innocent than him that is here set
before thee ? Or, art thou able to come near
him in this point, toho did no sin, neither
was guile found in his mouth ? This is to
signify perfect holiness, according to that.
Jam. iii. 2. Man is by some called a little
world ; he is indeed a world of wickedness,
and that little part of him, the tongue, is a
little world of iniquity. All Christ's words
and actions, and all his thoughts, flowed
from a pure spring that had not any thing
defiled in it ; and therefore no temptation
either from men or Satan could seize on him.
Other men may seem clear as long as they
are unstirred ; but move and trouble them,
and the mud arises ; whereas he was nothing
but holiness, a pure fountain, all purity to
the bottom ; and therefore, stir and trouble
him as they would, he was still alike clear.
" The prince of this wcrld cometh, and hath
nothing in me," John xiv. 39.
This is the main ground of our confidence
in him, that he is a holy, harmless, undejil-
ed High-priest ; and such an one became
us, says the apostle, Heb. vii. 26, us that
are so sinful. The more sinful we are, the
more need that our" High-priest should be
sinless ; and being so, we may build upon
his perfection, standing in our stead, yea, we
are invested with him and his righteousness.
Again, there was no guile found in hit
mouth. This serves to convince us concern-
ing all the promises that he hath made us,
that they are nothing but truth. Hath he
said, Him that comes to me, I will in no
wise cast out 2 John vi. 37 ; — then you need
not fear, how unworthy and vile soever you
may be ; do but come to him, and you have
his word that he will not shut the door
against you. And as he hath promised ac-
cess, so hath he further promised ease, and
soul's rest, to those that come, Mat. xi. 40.
Then be confident to find that in him too,
for there was never a false nor guileful
word found in his mouth.
But to consider it only in the present ac-
tion, this speaks him the most innocent
sufferer that ever was, not only judicially just
in his cause, but entirely just in his person ;
altogether righteous, and yet condemned to
death, and an opprobrious death of malefac-
tors, and set betwixt two, as chief of the
three. / am, says he, the rose of Sharon
and the lily of the valley, Cant. ii. I. And
the spouse saith of him, My Well-beloved
is white and ruddy, Cant. v. 10. Thus
indeed he was in his death, ruddy in his
i blood-shed^ and white in his innocence, and
I
130
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. 11.
withal in his meekness and patience; the
other thing wherein he is here so exemplary.
Ver. 23. W ho when he was reviled,
reviled not again.} This spotless Lamb of,
God was a Lamb both in guiltlessness and
silence; and the prophet Isaiah expresses
the resemblance, in that he was brought as
a lamb to the slaughter, liii. 7« He suffer-
ed not only an unjust sentence of death, but
also unjust revilings, the contradiction* of
tinners. None ever did so little deserve re-
vilings ; none ever could have said so much in
his own just defence, and to the just reproach
of his enemies ; and yet in both he prefer-
red silence. None could ever threaten so
heavy things as he could against his ene-
mies, and have made good all he threaten-
ed, and yet no such thing was heard from
him. The heaven and earth, as it were,
spoke their resentment of His death that
made them : But He was silent ; or what
he spoke makes this still good, how far he
was from revilings and threatenings As
spices pounded, or precious ointment poured
out, give their smell most, thus his name
teas an ointment then poured forth, Cant.
i. 3, together with his blood, and filled
heaven and earth with his sweet perfume ;
was a savour of rest and peace in both, ap-
peasing the wrath of God, and so quieting
the consciences of men. And even in this
particular was it then most fragrant, in that
all the torments of the cross and revilings of
the multitude, as it were, racked him for
some answer, yet could draw no other from
him but this, " Father, forgive them, for
they know not what they do," Luke xxiii.
34,
But for those to whom this mercy belong,
ed not, the apostle tells us what he did ; in-
stead of revilings and threatenings, he com-
mitted all to him that judgeth righteously.
And this is the true method of Christian pa-
tience, that which quiets the mind, and keeps
it from the boiling tumultuous thoughts of
revenge ; to turn the whole matter into God's
hand, to resign it over to him, to prosecute
when and as he thinks good. Not as the
most, who had rather, if they had power, do
for themselves, and be their own avengers ;
and because they have not power, do offer up
such bitter curses and prayers for revenge
unto God, as are most hateful to him, and
are far from this calm and holy way of com-
mitting matters to his judgment. The com-
mon way of referring things to God, is in-
deed impious and dishonourable to him,
being really no other but a calling of him to
be a servant, and executioner to our passion.
We ordinarily mistake his justice, and judge
of it according to our own precipitant dis-
tempered minds. If wicked men be not
crossed in their designs, and their wicked-
ness evidently crushed, just when we would
have it, we arc ready to give up the matter
as desperate, or at least to abate of those con-
fident and reverent thoughts of divine justice
which we owe him. Howsoever things go,
this ought to be fixed in our hearts, that he
that sits in heaven judgeth righteously, and
executes that his righteous judgment in the
fittest season. We poor worms, whose whole
life is but an hand-breadth in itself, and is
as nothing unto God, think a few months or
years a great matter ; but to Him that in-
habits eternity, a thousand years are but a*
one day, as our apostle teaches us, 2 Pet.
iii. 8.
Our Saviour, in that time of his humilia-
tion and suffering, committed himself and
his cause (for that is best expressed, in that
nothing is expressed but he committed) to
him that judgeth righteously, and the issue
shall be, that all his enemies shall become
his foot-stool, and he himself shall judga
them. But that which is given us here to
learn from his carriage toward them in his
suffering, is, that quietness and modern
tion of mind, even under unjust suf-
ferings, make us like him. Not to reply
to reproach with reproach, as our custom is,
to give an ill word for another, or two for
one, to be sure not to be behind. Men take
a pride in this, and think it ridiculous sim-
plicity to suffer ; and this makes strifes and
contention so much to abound. But it is a
great mistake ; you think it greatness ot
spirit to bear nothing, to put up no wrong,
whereas it is indeed great weakness and base-
ness. It is true greatness of spirit to despise
the most of those things which set you
usually on fire one against another, especially
being done after a Christian manner. It
were a part of the spirit of Christ in you, and
is there any spirit greater than that, think
you ? Oh ! that there were less of the spirit
of the dragon, and more of the spirit of the j
dove, amongst us.
II. Our obligement to follow the example
of Christ, besides its own excellency, is in-
timated in these two things contained in the
words: 1. The intendment of his behaviour
for this use, to be as an example to us. 2.
Our interest in him, and in those his suffer-
ings, wherein he so carried himself.
1. That his behaviour was intended for '
an example, leaving us an example, &«.'. I
He left his footsteps as a copy (as the word |
vTn'yfxiu.ft.it imports) to be followed by us : I
Every step of his, is a letter of this copy, 1
and particularly in this point of suffering, he J
writ us a pure and perfect copy of obe- J
dience in clear and great letters, in his own I
blood.
His whole life is our rule : Not his mi
raculous works ; his footsteps walking on the i
hea, and such like, they are not for our fol-
lowing : But his obedience, holiness, meek-
ness and humility, are our copy, which w«
should continually study. The shorter and j
VEU. 24. J
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
131
more effectual way, they say, of teaching, is
by example : But above all, this matchless
example is the bappiest way of teaching, He
that follows me, says he, shall nut walk in
darkness, John viii. 12.
He that aims high, sboots the higher for
it, though he shoots not so high as he aims.
This is that which ennobles the spirit of a
Christian, the propounding of this our high
pattern, the example of Jesus Christ.
The imitation of men in worthless things
is low and servile ; the imitation of their vir-
tues is commendable, but if we aim no
higher, it is both imperfect and unsafe. The
apostle St. Paul will have no imitation, but
with regard to this supreme pattern, Be yc
followers of me, as I am of Christ, 1 Cor.
xi. 1. One Christian may take the example
of Christ in many things in another, but still
he ought to examine all by the original pri-
mitive copy, the footsteps of Christ himself,
following nothing but as it conforms with
that, and looking chiefly on him, both as the
most perfect and the most effectual example,
Heb. xii. 2. There is a cloud of witnesses
and examples, but look above them all to
Him, who is as high above them as the sun
is above the clouds. As the way is better,
a lively one indeed, so there is this advan-
tage in the covenant of grace, that we are not
left to our own skill for following of it, but
taught by the Spirit : In the delivery of
the law, God shewed his glory and greatness
by the manner of it ; but whereas the law-
was written only in dead tables, Christ, the
living law, teaches by obeying it, how to
obey it ; and this is the advantage of the
gospel, that the law is twice written over
unto believers, first in the example of Christ,
and then inwardly in their hearts by his
Spirit. There is, together with that copy
of all grace in Him, a Spirit derived from
him, enabling believers to follow him in their
measure. They may not only see him as
" the only-begotten Son of God, full of grace
and truth," as it is, John i. 14, but as there
it follows, ver. 16, they receive of his ful-
ness grace for grace. The love of Christ
makes the soul delight to converse with him ;
and converse and love together, make it
learn his behaviour ; as men that live much
together, especially if they do much affect
one another, will insensibly contract one
another's habits and customs.
The other thing obliging us, is, 2dly,
Our interest in him, and his sufferings ; he
suffered for us ; and to this the apostle re-
turns, ver. 24. Observe only from the tie
of these two, that if we neglect his example
set before us, we cannot enjoy any right as-
surance of his suffering for us ; but if we do
seriously endeavour to follow him, then we
may expect to obtain life through his death,
and those steps of his wherein we walk, will
bring us ere long to be where he is.
VER. 24. Who his own self hare our sins in his bodV
on the tree, that we, being dead to sin, should live
unto righteousness; by whose stripes ye were
healed.
THAT which is deepest in the heart is
generally most in the mouth ; that which
abounds within, runs over most by the tongue
or pen. When men light upon the speaking
of that subject which possesses the affection,
they can hardly be taken off, or drawn from
it again. Thus the apostles in their writings,
when they make mention any way of Christ
suffering for us, they love to dwell on it, as
that which they take most delight to speak
of; such delicacy and sweetness is in it, to
a spiritual taste, that they like to keep it in
their mouth, and are never out of their theme,
when they insist on Jesus Christ, though
they have but named him by occasion of
some other doctrine ; for HE is the great
subject of all they have to say.
Thus here the apostle had spoke of Christ
in the foregoing words, very fitly to this pre-
sent subject, setting him before Christian
servants, and all suffering Christians, as their
complete example, both in point of much
suffering, and of perfect innocence and pa-
tience in suffering. And he had expressed
their engagement to study and follow that
example ; yet he cannot leave it so, but hav-
ing said that all those his sufferings wherein
he was so exemplary, were for us, as a chief
consideration, for which we should study to
be like him, he returns to that again, 'and
enlarges upon it in words partly the same,
partly very near those of that Evangelist
among the Prophets, Isaiah, chap. liii. 4.
And it suits very well with his main scope
to press this point, as giving both very much
strength and sweetness to the exhortation ;
for surely it is most reasonable, that we will-
ingly conform to him in suffering who had
never been an example of suffering, nor sub-
ject at all to sufferings, nor in any degree
capable of them, but for us ; and it is most
comfortable, in these light sufferings of this
present moment, to consider, that he had
freed us from the sufferings of eternity, by.
himself suffering in our stead in the fulness
of time.
That Jesus Christ is, in doing and suffer-
ing, our supreme and matchless example,
and that he came to be so, is a truth : But
that he is nothing further, and came for no
other end, is, you see, a high point of false-
hood ; for how should men be enabled to
learn and follow that example of obedience,
unless there were more in Christ ; and what
would become of that great reckoning of dis-
obedience that man stands guilty of? No,
these are too narrow ; he came to bear our
gins in his own bod;/ on the tree, and for
this purpose had a body fitted for him, and
given him to bear this burden ; to do this
as the will of his Father ; to stand for us in-
132
ttead of all offerings and sacrifices ; and
"by that will (says the apostle,) we are
sanctified through the offering of the body
of Jesus Christ once for all," Heb. x. 9.
This was his business, not only to rectify
sinful man by his example, but to redeem
him by his blood, He was a teacher come
from God. As a Prophet he teaches us the
way of life, and, as the best and greatest of
Prophets, is perfectly like his doctrine ; and
his actions, (that in all teachers is the live-
liest part of doctrine,) his carriage in life and
der,th, is our great pattern and instruction :
But what is said of his forerunner is more
eminently true of Christ ; he is a Prophet
and more than a Prophet, a Priest satisfy-
ing justice for us, and a King conquering
sin and death for us ; an example indeed, but
more than an example, our sacrifice and our
life, and all in all. It is our duty to walk
as he walked, to make him the pattern of our
steps, 1 John ii. 6 : But our comfort and
salvation Ueth in this, that he is the propi-
tiation for our sins, ver. 2. So in the first
chapter of that epistle, ver. 7, " we are to
walk in the light, as He is in the light :"
But for all our walking, we have need of that
which follows, that bears the great weight,
the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from
all sin. And so still that glory which he pos-
sesseth in his own person, is the pledge oi
ours ; he is there for MS ; he lives to make
intercession for us, says the apostle, Heb.
vii. 25, and / go to prepare a place for you,
says he himself, John xiv. 2.
We have in the words these two great
points, and in the same order, as the words
lie : 1 . The nature and quality of the suf-
A COMMENTARY UfON
[cu.\r. it.
ferings of Jesus Christ :
of them.
And, 2. The end
I. The nature and quality of the suffer-
ings of Christ, He himself bare our sins in
his own body on the tree. In this expres-
sion of his sufferings, we are to consider, 1.
The commutation of the persons, He himself
for us. 2. The work undertaken and per-
formed, He bare our sins in his own body
on the tree.
1. The act or sentence of the law agains
the breach of it standing in force, and divini
justice expecting satisfaction, death was thi
necessary and inseparable consequent of sin
If you say the supreme majesty of God, be
ing accountable to none, might have forgiven
all without satisfaction, we are not to contes
that, nor foolishly to offer to sound the bot-
tomless depth of his absolute prerogative
Christ implies in his prayer, Matt. xxvi. 39
that it was impossible that he could escape
that cup : But the impossibility is resolvec
into his Father's will, as the cause of it
But this we may clearly see, following the
tract of the holy scriptures, (our only saf
way,) that this way wherein our salvatior
is contrived, is most excellent, and suitabl
o the greatness and goodness of God : so
ulJ. of wonders of wisdom and love, that the
angels, as our apostle tells us before, cannot
brbear looking on it, and admiring it ; for
all their exact knowledge, yet they still find
t infinitely beyond their knowledge, still in
astonishment and admiration of what they see,
and still in search, looking in tu see more ;
hose cherubim still having their eyes fixed
on this mercy-seat.
Justice might indeed have seized on re-
)ellums man, and laid the pronounced pu-
nishment on him ; Mercy might have freely
acquitted him, and pardoned all : But can
we name any place where Mercy and Justice
as relating to condemned man, could have
met and shined jointly, in full aspect, save
only in Jesus Christ, in whom indeed
" Mercy and Truth met, and Righteousness
and Peace kissed each other," Psal. Ixxxv.
10, yea, in whose person the parties concern-
ed, that were at so great a distance, met so
near, as nearer cannot be imagined ?
And not only was this the only way^fer the
consistence of these two, Justice and Mercy,
but take each of them severally, and they
could not have been in so full lustre, as in
this. God's just hatred of sin did, out of
doubt, appear more in punishing his own
only-begotten Son for it, than if the whole
race of mankind had suffered for it eternally.
Again, it raises the notion of Mercy to the
highest, that sin is not only forgiven us, but
for this end God's own co-eternal Son is given
to us, and for us. Consider what he is, and
what we are ; he the Son of his love, and
we enemies : Therefore it is emphatically
expressed in the words, " He himself bare
our sins. God so loved the world," John
iii. 16. ; that love amounts to this much, that
it was so great as to give his Son : But how
great that is, cannot be uttered. In this,
says this apostle, Rom. v. 8, God commend,
eth his love to us, sets it off to the highest,
gives us the richest and strongest evidence
of it.
The foundation of this frame, this appear-
ing of Christ for us, and undergoing and an-
swering all in our stead, lies in the decree of
God, where it was plotted and contriued in
the whole way of it from eternity : And the
Father and the Son being one, and their
thoughts and will one, they were perfectly
agreed on it : and those likewise for whom
it should hold, were agreed upon, and their
names written down, according to which they
are said to be given unto Christ to redeem.
And just according to that model did all the
work proceed, and was accomplished in all
points, perfectly answering to the pattern of
it in the mind of God. As it was precon-
cluded there, that the Son should undertake
the business, this matchless piece of service
for his Father, and that by his interposing,
men should be reconciled and saved : so that
VER. 24.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
133
he might be altogether a fit person for the
work, it was resolved, that as he was already
fit for it by the Almightiness of his Deity and
Godhead, and the acceptableness of his per-
son to the Father, as the Son of God, so he
should be further fitted by uniting, wonder-
fully, weakness to Ahnightiness, the frailty
became needful by the breach of the other,
so the failing of that other sets off and com-
mends the firmness of this. The fonner was
with a man in his best condition, and yet he
kept it not, even then he proved vanity, as it
is, Psal. xxxix. 5, Verily, every man in his
best estate is altogether vanity. So that
of man to the power of God ; because that j the second, to be stronger, is made with a
suffering for man was a main point of the ! man indeed, to supply the former ; but he is
work, so as his being the Son of God made ; God-man, to be surer than the fonner, and
him acceptable to God, his being the Son of i therefore it holds. And this is the difference,
Man made him suitable toman, in whose: as the apostle expresses it, that the first Adam
business he had engaged himself, and suit- j in that first covenant, was laid as a founda-
able to the business itself to be performed, j tion ; and though we say not, that the church
And not only was there in him, by his hu- in its true notion was built on him, yet the
man nature, a conformity with man, (for that
might have been by a new created body,)
but a consanguinity with man, by a body
framed of the same piece, (a redeemer, a
kinsman, as the Hebrew word god is,) only
purified for his use, as was needful, and fram-
estate of the whole race of mankind, the ma-
terials that the church is built of, lay on him
for that time, and it failed. But upon this
Rock, the second Adam, is the Church so
firmly built, that the gates of hell cannot
prevail against her, Matt. xvi. 18. The
ed after a peculiar manner in the womb of a i last Adam was made a quickening or life-
virgin, as it is expressed, Heb. x. 5, Thou j giving Spirit. The first had life, but he
hast jilted a body for me, having no siu it. j transferred it not, yea, he kept it not for him.
self, because ordained to have so much of our
sins, as it is here, he bare them in his own
body; which. expresses,
2. The work undertaken ; and this looks
back to the primitive transaction and pur-
pose, Lo, I come to do thy will, Psal. xl. 1,
says the Son ; and, Behold my Servant whom
I have chosen, Isa. xliii. 10, says the Fa-
ther ; in this master-piece of my works none
in heaven or earth is fit to serve me, but
mine own Son. And as he came into the
world according to that decree and will, so he
goes out of it again in that way ; the Son of
man goeth, as is determined, Lukexxii. 22,
it was wickedly and maliciously done by men
against him, but determined (which is that
he there speaks of) wisely and graciously by
his Father, with his own consent. As in
those twofaced pictures, look upon the cruci-
fying of Christ one way, as complotted by
a treacherous disciple and malicious priests
and rulers, and nothing more deformed and
hateful than the authors of it ; but view it
again as determined in God's counsel, for
the restoring of lost mankind, and so it is
full of unspeakable beauty and sweetness, in-
finite wisdom and love in every track of it.
This refers also to the persons for whom
he engaged, as their coming unto him re-
flects upon that first donation, and is repre-
sented as flowing from that, " All that the
Father hath given me shall come unto me,'
John vi. 37.
Now, this being God's great design, that
he would have men eye and consider more
than all the rest of his works, (though it is
least of all considered by the most,) the other
covenant made with the first Adam was bu
to make way, and if we may so speak, to
make work for this : For he knew that
would not hold : therefore as this new covenan
elf, but drew in and transferred death ; but
he second, by death, conveys life to all that
are reckoned his seed : He bare their sins.
He bare them on the tree. In that out-
ide of his suffering, the visible kind of death
nflicted on him, that it was hanging on the
tree of the cross, there was an analogy with
he end and main work, which was ordered
>y the Lord, with regard unto that being a
death declared accursed by the law, as the
apostle St. Paul observes, Gal. iii. 13, and
so declaring Him that was God blessed for
ever to have been made a curse, that is, ac-
counted as accursed for us, that we might be
Blessed in him, in whom, according to the
promise, all nations of the earth are blessed.
But that wherein lay the strength and
main stress of his sufferings, was this invisi-
ble weight that none could see that gazed on
him ; but he felt more than all the rest. In
this there are three things. 1. The weight
of sin. 2. The transferring of it upon
Christ. 3. His bearing of it.
I. He bare it as a heavy burden ; so the
word of bearing in general, iir.ny»nt and
those two words particularly used by the pro-
phet, Isaiah liii. 4, to which these allude,
are the bearing of some great mass or load,
and that sin is : For it hath the wrath of an
offended God hanging at it, indissolubly tied
to it ; of which, who can bear the least ?
and therefore the least sin, being the procu-
ring cause of it, will press a man down for
ever that he shall not be able to rise. Who
angry 9 says the Psalmist, Psal. Ixxvi. 7,
and the Prophet, Jer. iii. 12, " Return, back-
sliding Israel, and I will not cause my wrath
to fall upon thee ;" to fall as a great weight
or as a millstone, and crush the soul.
But senseless, we go light under the bnr-
134
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. ii.
den of sin, and feel it riDt ; we complain not
&f it, and therefore truly said to be dead in
it, otherwise it could not but press us, and
press out complaints. " O wretched man that
I am ! who shall deliver me ?" Rom. vii.
24. A profane secure sinner thinks it no-
thing to break the holy law of God, to please
his flesh or the world ; he accounts sin a light
matter, and makes a mock of it, as Solomon
says, Prov. xiv. 9 ; but a stirring conscience
is of another mind ; " Mine iniquities are
gone over my head, as a heavy burden they
are too heavy for me," Psal. xxxviii. 4.
Sin is such a burden as makes the very
frame of heaven and earth that is not guilty
of it, yea, the whole creation, to crack and
groan, (it is the apostle's doctrine, Rom. viii.
4,) and yet the impenitent heart, whose guil-
tiness it is, continues unmoved, and groaneth
not ; for your accustomed groaning is no
such matter.
Yea, to consider in the present subject
where we may best read what it is, it was a
heavy load to Jesus Christ, see Psal. xl. 12,
where the Psalmist, speaking in the person
of Christ, complains heavily, Innumerable
evils have compassed me about. Mine
iniquities, not his, as done by him, but yet
his by his undertaking to pay for them,
" they have taken hold of me, so that I
am not able to look up ; they are more than
the hairs of my head, therefore my heart fail-
eth me." And sure, that which pressed him
so sore who upholds heaven and earth, no
other in heaven or in earth could have sus-
tained and surmounted, but would have sunk
and perished under it. Was it, think you,
the pain of that common outside of his death,
though very painful, that drew such a word
from him, My God, my God, why hast thou
forsaken me .« Or was it the fear of it be-
fore-hand, that pressed a sweat of blood from
him ? No, it was this burden of sin, the first
of which was committed in the garden of
Eden, that then began to be laid upon him
and fastened upon his shoulders in the garden
of Gethsemane, ten thousand times heavier
than the cross which he was caused to bear :
That might be a while turned over to ano-
ther, but this could not. This was the cup
he trembled more at, than that gall and vine-
gar after to be offered him by his crucifiers,
or any other part of his external sufferings.
It was the bitter cup of wrath due to sin
that his Father put into his hand, and caused
him to drink, the very same thing that is here
called the bearing our sins in his body.
And consider that the very smallest si^
went in to make up this load, and made it
BO much the heavier ; and therefore, though
sins be comparatively less and greater, yet
learn thence to account no sin in itself small
that offends the great God, and lay heavy
upon your great Redeemer in the day of his
sufferings.
At his apprehending, besides the soldiers,
that invisible crowd of the sins he was to
suffer for came about him, for it was they
that laid strongest hold on him ; he could
easily have shaken off" all the rest, as appears,
Matt. xxvi. 33, but our sins laid the arrest
on him, being accounted his, as it is in that
forecited place, Psal. xl. 12, Mine iniqui-
ties. Now, amongst these were even those
sins we call small ; they were of the number
that took him, and they were amongst those
instruments of his bloodshed. If the greater
were as the spear that pierced his side, the
less were as the nails that pierced his hands
and his feet, and the very least as the thorns
that were set on his precious head. And
the multitude of them made up what was
wanting in their magnitude ; though they
were small, they were many.
2. They were transferred upon him by
virtue of that covenant we spoke of. They
became his debt, and he responsible for all •
they came to. " Seeing you have accepted
of this business according to my will, (may
we conceive the Father saying to his Son,)
you must go through with it ; you are en-
gaged in it, but it is no other than what you
understood perfectly before ; you knew what
it would cost you, and yet out of joint lore
with me to those I named to be saved by
you, you were as willing as I to the whole
undertaking. Now, therefore, the time is
come that I mucf lay upon you the sins of
all those persons, and you must bear them ;
the sins of all those believers that lived be-
fore, and all that are to come after to the
end of the world." The Lord laid on him
the iniquity of us all, says the prophet
Isaiah, liii. G, took it off from us, and charg-
ed it on him, made it to meet on him or to fall
in together, as the word is : The sins of all,
in all ages before and after, that were to be
saved, all their guiltiness re-encountered,
and met together on his back upon the cross ;
and whosoever of all that number had least
sin, yet had no small burden to cast on him :
and to give accession to the whole weight,
every man hath had his own way of wander-
ing, as the prophet there expresseth it, and
he paid for all ; all fell on him. And as in
testimony of his meekness and patience, so
in this regard likewise was he so silent in
his sufferings, in regard that though his
enemies dealt most unjustly with him, yet
he stood as convicted before the justice-seat
of his Father, under the imputed guilt of all
our sins ; and so eyeing him, and account-
ing his business to be chiefly with him, he
did patiently bear the due punishment of all
our sins at his Father's hand, and suited
that of the Psalmist, I was as dumb, and
opened not my mouth, because thou didst it,
Psal. xxxix. 9. Therefore the prophet im-
mediately subjoins that of his silent car.
riage, Isa. liii. 7, to that which he had
VT.K. 24.
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
135
spoken of the confluence of our iniquities
upon him.
And if our sins were thus accounted his,
then in the same way, and for that very rea-
son, of necessity, his sufferings and satisfac-
tion must be accounted ours : As he said for
his disciples to the men that came to take him,
If it be me ye seek, then let them go free,
John xviii. 8 ; so he said for all believers to
his Father, his wrath then seizing on him,
" If on me you will lay hold, then let these
go free." And thus the agreement was, 2
Cor. v. nit. ; " He was made sin for us who
knew no sin, that we might be made the
righteousness of God in him."
So then, there is an union betwixt be-
lievers and Jesus Christ, by which this in-
terchange is made : He is charged with their
sins, and they are clothed with his satisfac-
tion and righteousness ; and that union is
founded, Is/, In God's decree of election
• running this way, that they should live in
Christ, and so choosing the head and the
whole mystical body as one, and reckoning
their debt as his, in his purpose, that he
might receive satisfaction, and they salva-
tion, in thjir head Christ. The execution
of that purpose and union began in Christ's
incarnation ; being for them, though the
nature be more common, he is said " not to
take the nature of angels, but the seed of
Abranam," Heb. li. 1C, the company of be-
lievers ; he became man for their sakes, be-
cause they are men. That he is of the same
nature with unbelieving men that perish, is
but by accident, as it were ; there is no good
in them in that, but the great evil of deeper
condemnation, if they hear of him, and be-
lieve not ; but he was made man to be like,
yea, to be one with the elect, and he is not
ashamed to call them brethren, as the
apostle there says, Heb. ii. 11. 2dly, The
union is also founded in the actual intention
of the Son so made man ; he presenting him-
self to the Father in all he did and suffered,
as for them, having them, and them only, hi
his eye and thoughts in all, For their sakes
do J sanctify myself, John xvii. 19. A-
gain, 3dly, The union is applied and per-
formed in them, when they are convertec
and ingrafted into Jesus Christ by faith ;
and this doth actually discharge them o:
their own sins, and entitle them to his righ-
teousness, and so justifies them in the sigh
of God. Athly, The consummation of this
union is in glory, which is the result am
I fruit of all the former. As it began in
heaven, it is completed there ; but betwixt
these two in heaven, the intervention of those
other two degrees of it on earth was neces-
«ary, being intended in the first as tending
to the attainment of the last. These fou
I iteps of it are all distinctly expressed in his
I own prayer, John xvii. 1st, God's purpose
I that the Son should give eternal life to tho e
that he hath gicen him, ver. 2. 2<7/«/, The
Son's undertaking and accomplishing their
redemption, in ver. 4, " I have finished the
work which thou gavest me to do." 3dly,
The application of this union, and its per-
formance in them, by their faith, their fce-
ieving and keeping his word, ver. 6, 8, and
n several of the subsequent verses. And
hen, lastly, We have the consummation of
his union, ver. 24, " I will that they whom
hou hast given me be with me where I
am." There meets the first donation and
he last.
Now, to obtain this life for them, he died
'n their stead, appeared as the High-priest,
being perfectly and truly what the name was
on their plate of gold, Holiness to the Lord.
Exod. xxviii. 36, and so bearing their ini-
quity, as it is added there of the priest, ver.
38. But because that priest was not the
Redeemer, but an imperfect figure of him,
ic did not himself suffer for the people's
sin, but turned it over upon the beasts that
le sacrificed ; signifying that translation of
sin, by laying his hand upon the head of the
3east ; but Jesus Christ is both the great
High-priest and the great sacrifice in one.
And this seems to be here implied in these
words, Himself bare our sins in his own
body ; which the legal priest did not : So
he made his soul an offering for sin, Isa.
liii. 10, and Heb. ix. 12. He offered up
himself, his whole self. In the history of
the gospel, it is said, his soul was heavy
and chiefly suffered ; but the bearing in his
body, and offering it, that is oftenest men-
tioned as the visible part of the sacrifice, and
in his way of offering it, not excluding the
other. Thus, Rom. xii. 1, we are exhorted
to give our bodies, in opposition to the
bodies of beasts, and they are therefore
called a living sacrifice, which they are not
without the soul : Thus his bearing tu his
body imports the bearing it in his soul too.
3. His bearing, that hints that he was
active and willing in his suffering for us ;
not a constrained offering. He laid down
his life, as he tells us, John x. 18, and this
here, He bare, is, he took willingly off, lift-
ed from us that burden to bear it himself.
It was counted an ill sign amongst the hea-
thens, when the beasts went unwillingly to
be sacrificed, and drew back ; and a good
omen when they went willingly : But never
was sacrifice so willing as our great Sacri-
fice ; and we may be assured he hath appeas-
ed his Father's wrath, and wrought atone-
ment for us. Isaac was in this his type ;
we hear of no reluctance, but quietly sub-
mitted to be bound when he was to be
offered up. There be two words in Isaiah
liii. 4, the one bearing, the other taking
away ; this is also that taking away the
| sins of the world in St. John i. 29, which
I answers to both ; and so he to both the
133
goats, the victim (the sin offering) and the
scape goat, Lev. xvi. He did bear our sins
on his cross, and from thence to his grave,
and there they are buried ; and they whose
sins he did so bear, and take away, and
bury, shall hear no more of them as theirs to
bear. Is he not then worthy to be viewed
in that notion that John, in the fore-men-
tioned text, took him and designed him by,
" Behold the Lamb of God, that beareth
and takes away the sins of the world."
You, then, that are gazing on vanity, be
persuaded to turn your eyes this way, and
behold this lasting wonder, this Lord of life
dying ! But the most, alas ! want a due
eye for this object : It is the eye of faith
alone that looks aright on him, and is daily
discovering new worlds of excellency and
delight in this crucified Saviour ; that can
view him daily as hanging on the cross,
without the childish gaudy help of a cruci-
fix, and grow in the knowledge of that love
(hat passeth knowledge, and rejoice itself in
frequent thinking and speaking of him, in-
stead of these idle and vain thoughts, at the
best, and empty discourses, wherein they
most delight, and wear out the day. What
is all knowledge but painted folly in compa-
rison of this ? Though thou hadst Solo-
mon's faculty to discourse of all plants, and
have not the right knowledge of this root of
Jesse : If thou wert singular in the know-
ledge of the stars, and course of the heavens,
and couldst walk through the spheres with a
Jacob's staff, but ignorant of this star of
Jacob : If thou knewest the histories of all
time, and the life and death of all the most
famous princes, and could rehearse them all,
but dost not spiritually know and apply to
thyself the death of Jesus as thy life ; thou
art still a wretched fool for them, and all thy
knowledge with thee shall quickly perish.
On the other side, if thy capacity or breeding
hath denied thee the knowledge of all these
things wherein men glory so much ; yet do
but learn Christ crucified, and what wouldst
thou have more ? That shall make thee
happy for ever ; for " this is life eternal, to
know thee the only true God, and Jesus
Christ whom thou hast sent," John xvii. 3.
Here St. Paul sets up his rest, / deter-
mined to know nothing but Jesus Christ
and him crucified, 1 Cor. ii. 2. " What-
soever I knew besides, I resolved to be as if
I knew nothing besides this, the only know-
ledge wherein I will rejoice myself, and
which I will labour to impart to others. I
have tried and compared the rest, and find
them all unworthy of their room beside this,
and my whole soul too little for this, and
have past this judgment and sentence on all.
I have adjudged myself to deny all other
knowledge, and confined myself within this
circle, and I am not straitened. No, there
U room enough in it; it is larger than hea-
[CMAP. u.
ven or earth ; Christ and him crucified, the
most despised and ignominious part, yet ths
sweetest and most comfortable part of all ;
the root, whence all our hopes of life and
spiritual joys do spring."
But the most part of mankind hear this
subject as a story ; some are a little moved
with the present sound of it, but they draw
it not home into their hearts, to make it theirs,
and to find salvation in it, but still cleave to
sin, and love sin better than Him that suf-
fered for it.
But you whose hearts the Lord hath deeply
humbled in the sense of sin, come to this
depth of consolation and try it, that you may
have experience of the sweetness and riches
of it. Study this point thoroughly, and you
will find it answer all, and quiet your con-
sciences. Apply this bearing of sin by the
Lord Jesus for you, for it is published and
made known to you for this purpose. This
is the genuine and true use of it, as of the
brazen serpent, not emptily to gaze on the
fabric of it, but to cure those that looked on
it. When all that can be said is said against
you, It is true, may you say, but it is satis-
fied for ; He on whom I rest, made it his,
and did bear it for me. The person of Christ
is of more worth than all men, yea, than all
the creatures, and therefore his life \vas a full
ransom for the greatest offender.
And for outward troubles and sufferings,
which were the occasion of this doctrine in
this place, they are all made exceeding light
by the removal of this great pressure. " Let
the Lord lay on me what he will, seeing he
hath taken off my sin and laid that on His
own Son in my stead. I may suffer many
things, but he hath borne that for me which
alone was able to make me miserable."
And you that have this persuasion, how
will your hearts be taken up with his love,
" who thus loved you as to give himself for
you !" who interposed himself to bear off
from you the stroke of everlasting death, and
encountered all the wrath due to us, and went
through with that great work, by reason of
his unspeakable love ! Let Him never go
forth from my heart, who for my sake refused
to go down from the cross.
That we, being dead to sin, should live
unto righteousness.} The Lord doth no-
thing in vain, hath not made the least of his
works to no purpose ; In wisdom hath he
made them all, says the Psalmist, Psal. civ.
24, and that is not only in regard of their
excellent frame and order, but of their end,
which is a chief point of wisdom ; so then,
to the right knowledge of this great work put
into the hands of Jesus Christ, it is of special
concern to understand what is its end.
This is the thing that his wisdom and
love aimed at in that great undertaking, and
therefore it will be our truest wisdom, and
! the truest evidence of our reflex love, to in*
VER. 24.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
tend the same thing ; that, in this, " the ' its life, as is the soul of the body ; it hath
same mind may be in us that was in Christ jnot only no moving faculty in good, but be-
Jesus" in his suffering for us, and for this i comes full of rottenness and vileness, as the
very end it is expressed, " That we, being word is, Psal. xiv. 2, They are gone aside
dead to sin, should live to righteousness."
In this, there are three things to be con-
sidered : 1. What this death or life is. 2.
The intendment of it in the sufferings and
death of Jesus. Christ. 3, The effecting of
it by them.
1st, What this death or life is. Now,
whatsoever it is, sure it is no small change
that bears the name of the great and last
natural change that we are subject to ; a
death, and then another kind of life succeed-
ing to it ; and in this the greatest part are
mistaken, that they take any light alteration
in themselves for true conversion.
A world of people are deluded with super-
ficial moral changes in their life, some rec-
tifying of their outward actions and course
of life, and somewhat too in the temper and
habit of their mind, far from reaching the
bottom of nature's wickedness, and laying
the axe to the root of the tree, it is such a
work as men can make a shift with by them-
selves ; but the renovation that the Spirit of
God worketh is like himself, it is so deep
and total a work, that it is justly called by
the name of the most substantial works and
productions, a new birth, and more than
ihat, a new creation, and here a death and
, kind of life following it.
This death to sin, supposes a former liv-
ing in it, and to it ; and while a man does
«o, he is said indeed to be dead in gin ; and
yet withal this is true, that he lives in sin, as
the apostle joins the expressions, 1 Tim. v.
€, She that lives in pleasure is dead while
she liveth ; so Eph. ii. 1, dead in trespasses
and sins ; and lie adds, tcherein ye walked,
which imports a life, such an one as it is,
and more expressly, .ver. 3, We had our
conversation in the lusts of our flesh. Now,
thus to live in sin is called to be dead in it,
because in that condition man is indeed dead,
in respect of that divine life of the soul, that
happy being which.it should have in union
with God, for which it was made, and with-
out which it had better not be at all. For
that life, as it is different from its natural
being, and a kind of life above it, so it is
contrary to that corrupt being and life it hath
in sin ; and therefore to live in sin is to be
dead in it, being a deprivement of that di.
vine being, that life of the soul in God, in
comparison whereof, not otdy the base life
it hath in sin, but the very natural life it hath
in the body, and that the body hath by it,
is not worthy of the name of life. You see
the body, when the thread of its union with
the soul is cut, becomes not only straight-
way a motionless lump, but within a little
time a putrified noisome carcase ; and thus
the soul by sin is cut off from God, who is
and become filthy. The soul, by turning
away from God, turns filthy ; yet, as a man
thus spiritually dead lives naturally so, be.
cause he acts, and spends that natural life,
in the ways of sin, he is said to live in tin.
Yea, there is somewhat more in that expres-
sion than the mere passing of his life in that
way ; for, instead of that happy life his soul
should have in God, he pleases himself in
the miserable life of sin, that which is his
death, as if it were the proper life of his
•>oul : Living in it imports that natural pro-
>ensity he hath to sin, and the continual de-
ight he takes in it, as in his element, and
iving to it, as if that were the very end of
lis being. In that estate, neither his body
nor his mind stirreth without sin. Setting
aside his manifest breaches of the law, those
actions that are evidently and totally sinful,
lis natural actions, his eating and drinking,
lis religious actions, his praying, and hear-
ing, and preaching, are sin at the bottom.
And, generally, his heart is no other but a
forge of sin ; every imagination, every fic-
tion of things framed there, is only evil con-
tinually, Gen. vi. 5, or every day, and all
the day long, it is his very trade and life.
Now, in opposition to this life of sin, liv-
ing in it, and to it, a Christian is said to die
to sin, to be cut off or separated from it. In
our miserable natural state, there is as close
an union betwixt us and sin as betwixt our
souls and bodies. It lives in us, and we in
it ; and the longer we live in that condition
the more the union grows, and the harder it
is to dissolve it ; and it is as old as the
union of soul and body ; nor can any thing
but the death that is here -spoke of part
them : And this death, in this relative
sense, is mutual, in the work of conversion :
sin dies, and the soul dies to sin, and these
two are really one and the same. The Spirit
of God kills both at one blow, sin in the soul,
and the soul to sin ; as the apostle says of
himself and the world, Gal. vi. 14, each is
crucified to the other.
And there are in it chiefly these two things
that make the difference : 1. The solidity ;
and, 2. The universality of this change un-
der this notion of death.
Many things may lie in a man's way be«
twixt him and the acting of divers sins, which
possibly he affects most. Some restraints,
outward or inward, may be upon him, the
authority of others, or the fear of shame or
punishment, or the check of an enlightened
conscience ; and though, by reason of these,
he commit not the sin he would, yet he lire*
in it, because he loves it, because he would
commit it ; as we say, the soul lives not so
where it animates, as where it loves : And,
133
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. ir.
generally, that kind of metaphorical life, by
which a man is said to live in any thing,
hath its principal seat in the affection. That
is the immediate link of the union in such a
life ; and the untying and death consists
chiefly in the disengagement of the heart,
breaking off the affection from it ; ye that
love the Lord, hate evil, Psal. xcvii. 10.
An unrenewed mind may have some tem-
porary dislikes, even in its beloved sins, in
cold blood, but it returns to like them within
a while. A man may not only have times
of cessation from his wonted way of sinning,
but, by reason of the society wherein he is,
and withdrawing of occasions to sin, and di-
vers other causes, his very desire after it may
seem to him to be abated, and yet he may
be not dead to sin, but only asleep to it :
And therefore, when a temptation, backed
with opportunity, and other inducing circum-
stances, comes, and jogs him, he awakes, and
arises and follows it.
A man may, for a while, distaste some
meat he loves, (possibly upon a surfeit,) but
he regains quickly his liking of it : Every
quarrel with sin, every fit of dislike to it, is
not this hatred. Upon the lively represent-
ing the deformity of his sin to his mind, cer-
tainly a natural man may fall qut with it ;
out these are but as the little jars of husband
and wife, that are far from dissolving the
marriage ; it is not a fixed hatred, such as
amongst the Jews inferred a divorce ; if
thou hate her put her away ; and that is to
die to it : As by a legal divorce the hus-
band and wife are civilly dead one to ano-
ther, in regard of the tie and use of marriage.
Again, some men's education and custom
»nd moral principles, may free them from the
grossest kind of sins ; yea, a man's temper
may be averse from them, but they are alive
to their own kind of sins, such as possibly
are not so deformed in the common account,
covetousness or pride, or hardness of heart,
and either a hatred or disdain of the ways
of holiness, that are too strict for them, and
exceed their size. Besides, for the good of
human society, and for the interest of his
own church and people, God restrains many
natural men from the height of wickedness,
and gives them moral virtues. There be
very many and very common sins, that more
refined natures, it may be, are scarce tempted
to; but as in their diet and apparel, and
other things in their natural life, they have
the same kind of being with other persons
though they are more neat and elegant ; so,
in this living to sin, they live the same life
with other ungodly men, though with a little
more delicacy.
They consider not that the devils are not
in themselves subject to, nor capable of, many
of those sins that are accounted grossest
aiLongst men, and yet are greater rebels and
enemies to God than men are.
But to be dead to sin goes deeper, and ex-
tends further than all these, namely, a most
inward alienation of heart from sin, and most
universal from all sin, an antipathy to the
most beloved sin. Not only doth a man in
this case forbear sin, but he hates it ; / hate
vain thoughts, Psal. cxix. 113; and not
only doth he hate some sins, but all ; / hate
every false way, verse 128. A stroke at the
heart, a wound given there, occasions the
most certain and speedy death : For, in this
dying to sin, all the whole man of necessity
dies to it ; the mind dies to the device and
study of sin ; that vein and intention be-
comes dead ; the hand dies to the acting of
it ; the ear to the delightful hearing of things
profane and sinful ; the tongue of the world's
dialect of oaths and rotten speaking, and
calumny and evil speaking. This is the most
common effect of the tongue's life in sin, the
very natural heat of sin that exerts and vents
itself most that way ; the eye becomes dead
to that intemperate look that Solomon speaks
of when he cautions us against " eyeing the
wine when it is red and well coloured in ths
cup," Prov. xxiii. 31. It is not taken with
looking on the glittering skin of that serpent
till it bite and sting, as there he adds. It
becomes also dead to that unchaste look that
kindles fire in the heart, to which Job blind-
folded and deadened his eyes, by an express
compact and agreement with them ; " I made
a covenant with mine eyes," Job xxxi. 1 .
The eye of a godly man is not fixed on
the false sparkling of the world's pomp,
honour and wealth. It is dead to them, being
quite dazzled with a greater beauty. The
grass looks fine in the morning, when it is
set with those liquid pearls, the drops of dew
that shine upon it ; but if you can look but
a little while on the body of the sun, anc.
then look clown again, the eye is as it were
dead ; it sees not that faint shining on the
earth that it thought so gay oefore : And as
the eye is blinded, and dies to it, so, within
a few hours, that gaiety quite vanquishes and
dies itself.
Men think it strange that the godly ar2
not fond of their diet, that their appetite is
not stirred with desire of their delights and
dainties ; they know not that such as be
Christians indeed, are dead to those things ;
and the best dishes that are set before a dead
man give him no stomach. The godly man's
throat is cut to those meats, as Solomon ad-
vises, in another subject, Prov. xxiii. 2. But
why may not you be a little more sociable
to follow the fashion of the world, and take
a share with your neighbours, may some say,
without so precisely and narrowly examin-
ing every thing ? It is true, says the Chris-
tian, that the time was when I advised as
little with conscience as others, but sought
myself and pleased myself as they do, and
looked no further ; but that was when / it-at
VRR. 24. J
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
13*
alive in those ways ; but now truly / am it, which, taken alone, rather may beget a
dead to them ; and can you look for activity desperate discontent than a quiet compliance.
and conversation from a dead man ? the
pleasures of sin, wherein I lived, are still the
same, but I am not the same. Are you such
a sneak and a fool, says the natural man, as
to bear affronts, and swallow them, and say
nothing ? Can you suffer to be abused so by
such and such a wrong ? Indeed, says the
Christian again, I could once have resented
an injury as you, or another, and had some-
what of that you call high-heartedness, when
I was alive after your fashion ; but now that
humour is not only sometimes cooled, but it
is killed, in me. It is cold dead, as ye say :
and a greater Spirit, I think, than my own,
hath taught mu another lesson, hath made
me both deaf and dumb that way, and hath
given me a new vent, and another language,
and another party to speak to on such occa-
sions. See for this, Psal. xxviii. 12, 13, 14,
15. " They that seek my hurt, speak mis-
chievous things, and imagine deceits all the
day long." What doth he in this case ?
" But I as a deaf man heard not, and I was
as a dumb man that opened not his mouth ;"
and why ? for " in thee, O Lord, do I hope."
And for this deadness that you despise, I
have learned it of Him that died forme, who,
when he was reviled, reviled not again.
This is the true character of a Christian :
he is dead to sin : But alas ! where is this
Christian to be found ? And yet, thus is
every one that truly partakes of Christ ; he
is dead to simeally. Hypocrites have an
historical kind of death, like this, as play-
ers in tragedies. Those players have loose
bags of blood that receive the wound : so the
hypocrite, in some externals, and, it may be,
in that which is as near him as any outward
tiling, his purse, he may suffer some blood-
shed of that for Christ ; but this death to
sin is not a swooning fit, that one may recover
out of again ; the apostle, Rom. vi. 4, adds,
that he is buried.
But this is an unpleasant subject to talk
thus of death and burial ; the very name of
death, in the softest sense it can have, makes
a sour melancholy discourse. It is so, indeed,
if you take it alone, if there were not, instead
of the life that was lost, a far better one im-
mediately following ; but so it is here, living
unto righteousness, succeeds dying to sin.
That which makes natural death soaffright-
ful, the king of terrors, as Job calls it, xviii.
14, is mainly this faint belief and assurance
of the resurrection and glory to come ; and
without some lively apprehensions of this, all
men's moral resolutions and discourses are too
weak cordials against this fear. They may
set a good face on it, and speak big, and so
cover the fear they cannot cure ; but certainly
they are a little ridiculous, that would per-
luade men to be content to die, by reasoning
The very weakness of that argument is, thaf
it is too strong, durum telum. That of com-
pany is fantastic ; it may please the ima-
gination, but satisfies not the judgment :
Nor are the miseries of life, though somewhat
more proper, a full persuasive to meet death
without reluctance ; the oldest, the most de-
crepit, and most diseased persons, yet natu-
rally fall not out with life, but could have a
mind to it still ; and the very truth is this,
the worst cottage any dwells in, they are loath
to go out of till they know of a better. And
the reason why that which- is so hideous
to others was so sweet to martyrs, Heb. xi.
35, and other godly men that have heartily
embraced death, and welcomed it, though in
very terrible shapes, was, because they had
firm assurance of immortality beyond it.
The ugly death's-head, when the light of
glory shines through the holes of it, is come-
ly and lovely. To look upon death as eter-
nity's birth-day, is that which makes it not
only tolerable, but amiable. Hie dies pos-
tremus esterni natalis est, is the word I ad-
mire more than any other that ever dropt
from a heathen.
Thus, here, the strongest inducement to
this death is the true notion and contempla-
tion of this life, unto which it sets us over :
it is most necessary to represent this, for a
natural man hath as great an aversion, every
whit, from this figurative death, this dying
to sin, as from natural death ; and there is
the more necessity of persuading him to this
because his consent is necessary to it. No
man dies this death to sin unwillingly, al-
though no man is naturally willing to it ;
much of this death consists in a man's con-
senting thus to die : and this is not only a
lawful but a laudable, yea, a necessary self-
murder. Mortify, therefore, your members
which are upon the earth, says the apostle,
Col. iii. 5. Now, no sinner will be content
to die to sin, if that were all ; but if it be
passing to a more excellent life, then he
gaineth ; and it were a foily not to seek this
death. It was a strange power of Plato's
Discourse of the Soul's Immortality, that
moved a young man upon reading it, to throw
himself into the sea, that he might leap
through it to that immortality : But truly,
were this life of God, this life to tighteous-
ness, and the excellency and delight of it,
known, it would gain many minds to this
death, whereby we step into it.
1. There is a necessity of a new being to
be the principle of new acting and motion,
as the apostle says, while ye served sin, ye
were free from righteousness, Rom. vi. 20.
So it is equally true, while ye were alive to
sin, ye were dead to righteousness ; but th< re
is a new breath of life from heaven, breathed
from the necessity and unavoidableness of | on the soul. Then lives the suul indeed,
A COMMENTARY UPON
110
when it is one with God, and sees light in
his light, Psal. xxxvi. !) ; it hath a spiritual
knowledge of him, and therefore sovereignly
loves him, and delights in his will ; and that
i* indeed to live unto righteousness, which,
in a comprehensive sense, takes in all the
frame of a Christian life, and all the duties
of it towards God and towards men.
By this new nature the very natural mo-
tion of the soul, so taken, is obedience to
God, and walking in the paths of righteous-
ness ; it can no more live in the habit and
ways of sin, than a man can live underwater.
Sin is not the Christian's element ; it is too
gross for his renewed soul, as the water is
for his body. He may fall into it, but he
cannot breathe in it ; cannot take delight,
and continue to live in it ; but his delight
is in the law of the Lord, Tsal. i. 2. That
is the walk that his soul refreshes itself in ;
he loves it entirely, and loves it most, where
it most crosses the remainders of corruption
that are in him ; he bends the strength of
his soul to please God, and aims wholly at
that. It takes up his thoughts early and
late ; he hath no other purpose in his being
and living, but only to honour his Lord,
that is, to live to righteousness. He doth
not make a bywork of it, a study for his spare
hours ; no, it is his main business, his all.
" In this law doth he meditate day and
night," Psal. i. 2. This life, like the na-
tural one, is seated in the heart, and from
thence diffuses itself to the whole man ; he
loves righteousness, and receiveth the truth
(as the apostle speaks) in the love of it. A
natural man may do many things, that for
their shell and outside are righteous : but he
lives not to righteousness, because his hearl
is not possessed and ruled with the love oi
it : Whereas this life makes the godly man
delight to walk uprightly and to speak o!
righteousness ; his language and ways carry
the resemblance of his heart, Psal. xxxvii.
30, 31. I know it is easiest to act that par
of religion that is in the tongue; but th<
Christian ought not for that to be spiritual!]
dumb. Because some birds are taught to
speak, men do not for that give it over, am
leave off to speak. The mouth of the righ-
teous speaketh wisdom, and his tongue talk-
eth of judgment, and his feet strive to keej
pace with his tongue, which gives evidenc
of its unfeignedness. None of his stcpn
shall slide, or he shall not stagger in hi
steps ; but that which is betwixt these is th
common spring of both. The law of Goa
is in his heart, Psal. xxxvii. 30, 31 ; am
from thence, as Solomon says, are the issue
of his life, Prov. iv. 3. That law in his heart
is the principal of this living to righteous
ness.
2. The second thing here is, the design
or intention of Christ, by his sufferings anc
death, to produce in us this death and life
[CHAP. II.
ie bare sin, and died for it, that we might
die to it.
Out of some conviction of the consequence
f sin, many have a confused desire to be
ustified, to have sin pardoned, and they
ook no further ; they think not on the im-
x>rtance and necessity of sanctification, the
tature whereof is expressed by this dying to
in and living to righteousness.
But here we see that sanctification is ne-
cessary, as inseparably connected with jus-
tification, not only as its companion, but as
ts end ; which in some kind raises it above
he other ; we see that it was the thing which
Grod eyed and intended, in taking away the
guiltiness of sin, that we might be renewed
and sanctified. If we compare them in point
of time and look backward, holiness was
always necessary unto happiness ; but sa-
tisfying for sin, and the pardon of it, was
made necessary by sin : or if we look forward,
the estate we are appointed to, and for which
we are delivered from wrath, is an estate of
perfect holiness. When we reflect upon that
;*reat work of redemption, we see it aimed
at there, Redeemed to be holy, Eph. v. 25,
2G ; Tit. ii. 14. And if we go yet higher,
to the very spring, the decree of election,
with regard to that it is said, Eph. i. 4,
Chosen before, that we should be holy ; and
the end, it shall suit the design ; Nothing
shall enter into the new Jerusalem that is
defiled or unholy ; nothing but perfect purity
is there ; not a spot of sinful pollution, noi
a wrinkle of the old man. For this end was
that great work undertaken by the Son of
God, that he might frame out of polluted
mankind a new holy generation to his Father,
that might compass his throne in the life of
glory, and give him pure praises, and behold
Ids face in that eternity. Now, for this end
it was needful, according to the all-wise pur-
pose of the Father, that the guiltiness of sin,
and sentence of death, should be once re-
moved, and thus the burden of that lay upon
Christ's shoulders on the cross ; and that
done, it is further necessary that souls so de-
livered be likewise purged and renewed ; for
they are designed to perfection of holiness in
the end, and it must begin here.
Yet it is not possible to persuade men of
this, that Christ had this in his eye and pur.
pose when he was lifted up upon the cross,
and looked upon the whole company of those
his Father had given him to save, that he
would redeem them to be a number of holy
persons. We would be redeemed, (who is
there would not ?) but he would have his re-
deemed ones holy ; and they that are not
true to this his end, but cross and oppose
him in it, may hear of redemption long, and
often, but little to their comfort. Are you
resolved still to abuse and delude yourselves ?
Well, whether you will believe it or no, this
is once more told you ; there is unspeakable
VKK. 24.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
141
comfort in the death of Christ, but it belongs so much the better and fitter to testify love,
only to those that are dead to sin and alive therefore, it will have the soul die with Him
to righteousness. This circle shuts out the that died for it, and the very same kind of
impenitent world : There it closes, and can- death ; / am crucified with Christ, says
not be broke through ; but all that are peni- he great apostle, Gal. ii. 20. The love of
tent are, by their effectual calling, lifted in-
to it, translated from that accursed condition
wherein they were : so then if you will live
in your sins, you may ; but, then, resolve
withal to bear them yourselves ; for Christ,
in his bearing of sin, meant the benefit of
none, bvit such as, in due time, are thus dead,
and thus alive with him.
3. But then, in the third place, Christ's
sufferings and death effect all this. [1.] As
the exemplary cause, the lively contempla-
tion of Christ crucified, is the most power-
ful of all thoughts to separate the heart and
sin. But, [2.] besides this working as a
moral cause, Christ is the effective natural
cause of this death and life ; for he is one
with the believer, and there is a real influence
of his death and life into their souls. This
mysterious union of Christ and the believer,
is that whereon both their justification and
sanctification, and the whole frame of their
salvation and happiness, depends ; and in
this particular view the apostle still insists on
it, speaking of Christ and believers as one
in his death and resurrection, " crucified
with him, dead with him, buried with him,
and risen with him," Rom. vi. 4, &c.
Being arisen, he applies his death to those
lie died for, and by it kills the life of sin in
them, and so is avenged on it for its being
the cause of his death, according to that o!
the Psalm, xli. 10, " Raise me up, that ]
may requite them." He infuses, and then
actuates and stirs up that faith and love in
them, by which they are united to him ; anc
these work powerfully in producing this
change.
[3.] Faith looks so stedfastly on its suf
fering Saviour, that, as they say,* it makes
the soul like him, assimilates and conform
it to his death, as the apostle speaks. Tha
which Papists fabulously say of some of thei
saints, that they received the impression o
the wounds of Christ in their body, is. true
in a spiritual sense, of the soul of every oni
that is indeed a saint and a believer. I
takes the very print of his death, by behold
ing him, and dies to sin ; and then take
that of his rising again, and lives to righ
teotisness, as it applies it to justify, so t
mortify, drawing virtue from it. Thus sail
one, " Christ aimed at this in all those suf
ferings, that, with so much love, he wen
through ; and shall I disappoint him, an
not serve his end ?"
[4.] That other powerful grace of lov
joins in this work with faith : for love de
sires nothing more than likeness and confor
mity : Though it be a painful resemblance
Christ in the soul takes the very nails that
astened him to the cross, and crucifies the
oul to the world and to sin. Love is strong
is death, particularly in this : the strongest
«id liveliest body, when death seizes it,
must yield, and so becomes motionless,
hough it was so vigorous before : And the
.oul that is most active and unwearied in
in, when this love seizes it, is killed to sin ;
md as death separates a man from his
dearest friends, and society, this love breaks
all its ties and friendship with sin. Gene-
rally, as Plato hath it, love takes away one's
iving in themselves, and transfers it into
he party loved ; but the divine love of Christ
doth it in the truest and highest manner.
By whose stripes ye were healed.~\ The
misery of fallen man, and the mercy of his
deliverance, are both of them such a depth,
that no one expression, yea, no variety of
expressions, added one to another, can reach
their bottom. Here we have divers very
significant ones : I. The guiltiness of sin,
as an intolerable burden, pressing the soul
and sinking it ; and that transferred and
laid on a stronger back, he bare. Then,
2. The same wretchedness, under the no-
tion of a strange disease, by all other means
incurable, healed by his stripes. Arfd, 3.
Again represented by the forlorn condition
of a sheep wandering, and our salvation to
be found only in the love and wisdom of our
great Shepherd. And all these are borrowed
from that sweet and clear prophecy, Isa. liii.
The polluted nature of man is no other
but a bundle of desperate diseases : He is
spiritually dead, as the Scriptures often teach.
Now, this contradicts not, nor at all lessons
the matter; but only because this misery,
justly called death, is in a subject animated
with a natural life, therefore, so considered,
it may bear the name and sense of sickness
or wounds : And therefore it is a gross mis-
prison, and they are as mnch out in their ar-
gument as in their conclusion, that would ex-
tract out of these expressions any evidence of
remains of spiritual life or good in our corrupt-
ed nature. But they are not worthy the con-
test, though vain heads think to argue them-
selves into life, and are seeking that life by
logic in miserable nature, that they should
seek by faith in Jesus Christ, namely, in
these fa* stripes by which we are healed.
It were a large task to name our spiritual
maladies, how much more severally to unfold
their natures ; such a multitude of corrupt
false principles in the mind, that as gangrenes
do spread themselves through the soul, and _
defile the whole man ; that total gross blind-
• Imeltecf.is fit illud quod intrllijii. ness and unbelief in spiritual things, anJ
142
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. 11.
that stone of the heart, i.ardness and impeni-J
tency, lethargies of senselessness and security ; j
and then, (for there be such complications of
spiritual diseases in us, as in naturals are al-
together impossible) such burning fevers of
inordinate affections, desires of lust, and ma-
lice, and envy, such racking and tormenting
cares of covetousness, and feeding on earth
and ashes, as the prophet speaks in another
case, Isa. xliv. 20, according to the depraved
appetite that accompanies some diseases ;
such tumours of pride and self-conceit that
break forth, as filthy blotches, in men's words
and carriage one with another ! And, in a
word, what a wonderful disorder must needs
be in the natural soul, by the frequent inter-
changes and fight of contrary passions within
it ! And, besides all these, how many deadly
wounds do we receive from without, by the
temptations of Satan and the world : We
entertain them, and by weapons, with which
they furnish us, we willingly wound our-
selves, as the apostle says of them " who will
be rich, they fall into divers snares and noi-
some lusts, and pierce themselves through
with many sorrows," 1 Tim. vi. 9.
Did we see it, no infirmary or hospital was
ever so full of loathsome and miserable spec-
tacles, as in a spiritual sense, our wretched
nature is in any one of us apart : How much
more when multitudes of us are met together?
But our evils are hid from us, and we perish
miserably in a dream of happiness. That
makes up and completes our wretchedness,
that we feel it not with our other diseases ;
and this makes it worse still. This was the
church's disease, Rev. iii. 17, " Thou say-
est I am rich, and knowest not that thou art
poor," &c. We are usually full of com-
plaints of trifling griefs that are of small
moment, and think not on, nor feel, our
dangerous maladies ; as he who shewed a
physician his fore finger, but the physician
told him, he had more need to think on the
cure of a dangerous imposthume within him,
which he perceived by looking to him, though
himself did not feel it.
In dangerous maladies or wounds, there be
these evils, a tendency to death, a fear of it,
and apprehension of its terrors, and the pre-
sent distemper of the body by these ; and all
this is in sin. 1. There is the guiltiness of,
sip binding over the soul to death, the most \
frightful, eternal death. 2. The terror of
conscience in the apprehension of that death, '
or wrath, that is the consequent and end of
sin. 3. The raging and prevailing power
of sin, which is the ill habit and distemper
of the soul : But Christ's stripes, and that
blood that issued from them, are a sound
cure applied to the soul. They take away
the guiltiness of sin, and death deserved, and
free us from our engagement to those ever-
•lasting Kcourgings and lashes of the wrath of
God ; and they are likewise the only cure of
those present terrors and pangs of conscience
arising from the sense of that wrath, and
sentence of death upon the soul. Our ini-
quities, that met on his back, laid it open
to the rod, which in itself was free ; those
hands that never wrought iniquity, and those
feet that never declined from the way of
righteousness, yet for our works and wander-
ings were pierced ; and that tongue dropped
with vinegar and gall on the cross, that
never spoke a guileful nor a sinful word. The
blood of those stripss are that balm issuing
from that tree of life so pierced, that can only
give ease to the conscience, and heal the
wounds of it ; and they deliver from the power
of sin, working by their influence a loathing
of sin, that was the cause of them ; they
cleanse out the vicious humours of our corrupt
nature, by opening 'that issue of repentance,
" They shall look on him, and mourn over
him, whom they have pierced," Zech. xii. 10.
Now, to the end it may thus cure, it must
be applied ; it is the only recipe, but it must
be received for healing. The most sovereign
medicines cure not in another manner, and
therefore still their first letter is R, Recipe,
Take such a thing.
This is amongst those wonders of that
great work, that the sovereign Lord of all,
that binds and looses at his pleasure the in.
fluences of heaven, and the power and work,
ings of all the creatures, would himself in
our flesh be thus bound, the only Son bound
as a slave, and scourged as a malefactor ! and
his willing obedience made this an accepta-
ble and expiating sacrifice : amongst the rest
of his sufferings, He gave his back to the
smiters, Isa. 1. 6.
Now, it cannot be, that any thus heal-
ed, reflecting upon this cure, can again take
any constant delight in sin. It is impossible
so far to forget both the grief it bred them-
selves, and their Lord, as to make a new a-
greement with it, and take pleasure to live
in it.
His stripes.] Turn your thoughts every
one of you to consider this. You that are
not healed, that you may be healed ; and you
that are, apply it still to perfect the cure, in
that part wherein it is gradual, and not com-
plete ; and for the ease you have found, bless
and love him who endured so much uneasi-
ness to that end. There is .a sweet mixture
of sorrow and joy in contemplating these
stripes ; sorrow, sure by sympathy, that they
were his stripes, and joy that they were our
healing. Christians are too little mindful
and sensible of this, and it may be, somewhat
guilty of that great fault mentioned, Hos. xi.
3, They knew not that I healed them.
VER. 25. For yc were as sheep going astray, butare
now returned to fie Shepherd and Bishop cf
your souls.
In these few words we have a brief and yet
VER. 25.]
THE FJRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
143
clear representation of the wretchedness of hunting vanity, following this self-pleasing
our natural condition, and our happiness in design or the other, and seldom, and very
Christ. The resemblance is borrowed from slightly, if at all, conversant with God, and
the same place in the prophet Isaiah, liii. 6. ' the things of heaven ? which, although they
Not to press the comparison, and, as it is alone have the truest and the highest plea-
too usual in such comments as these, to strain ' sure in them, yet to thy carnal mind are
it beyond the purpose in our lost estate ; this tasteless and unsavoury. There is scarce
is all, or the main circumstance, wherein the any thing so light and childish that thou
resemblance with sheep holds, our wander-\ wilt not more willingly and liberally bestow
ing, as forlorn, and exposed to destruction, as thy retired thoughts on, than upon those
a sheep that is strayed and wandered from j excellent incomparable delights. Oh ! the
,the fold. So it imports indeed the loss of a foolish heart of men, when it may seem deep
better condition, the loss of the safety and and serious, how often is it at Domitian's
happiness of the soul, of that good which is exercise in his study, catching flies ?
proper to it, as the suitable good of the brute
creature here named, is safe and good pasture.
That we may know there is none exempt
in nature from the guiltiness and misery of
this wandering, the prophet is express in the
universality of it, all we have gone astray :
And though the apostle here applies it in
particular to his brethren, yet it falls not
amiss to any other, ye were as sheep going
astray : Yea, the prophet there, to the col-
lective universal, adds a distributive, every
man to his own way, or a man to his way.
They agree in this, that they all wander,
though they differ in their several ways.
There is an inbred propeusion to stray in
them all, more than in sheep that are crea-
tures naturally wandering, for each man hath
his own way of it.
And this is our folly, that we flatter our-
iclves by comparison, and every one is pleas-
ed with himself because he is free from some
wanderings of others ; not considering that
he is a wanderer too, though in another way ;
he hath his way, as those he looks on have
theirs. And as men agree in wandering,
though they differ in their way, so those
ways agree in this, that they lead into mi-
sery, and shall end in that. Think you
there is no way to hell but the way of open
profaneness ? Yea, sure, many a way there
is that seems smooth, and clean iti a man's
own eyes, and yet will end in condemnation.
Truth is but one, error endless and intermi-
nable ; as we say of natural life and death,
so may we say of spiritual, the way to life is
one, but there are many out of it ; Icthi
mille aditus. Each one hath not opportu-
nity nor ability for every sin, or every de-
gree of sin, but each sins after his own mode
and power, Isaiah xl. 20.
Thy tongue, it may be, wanders not in
i the common path-road of oaths and curses,
I yet it wanders in secret calumnies, in detrac-
tion and defaming of others, though so con-
veyed as it scarce appears : Or, if thou
speak them not, yet thou art pleased to hear
I them. It wanders, in trifling away the
I precious hours of irrecoverable time, with
I vain unprofitable babblings in thy converse ;
ijor if thou art much alone, or in company
f much silent, yjt is not thy foolish mind stil
Men account little of the wandering of
heir hearts, and yet, truly, that is most of
all to be considered ; for, from thence are
he issues of life, Prov. iv. 23. It is the
icart that hath forgotten God, and is roving
after vanity. This causes all the errors of
men's words and actions. A wandering heart
makes wandering eyes, feet, and tongue,
[t is the leading wanderer, that mis-
eads all the rest ; and as we are here called
straying sheep, so within the heart itself of
each of us, there is, as it were, a whole
wandering flock, a multitude, of fictions,
Gen. viii. 21, ungodly devices; the word
that signifies the evil of the thought in He-
brew here, rang from rung, is from that
which is feeding of a flock, and it likewise
signifies wandering ; and to these meet in
our thoughts, they are a great flock and a
wandering flock. This is the natural free-
dom of our thoughts ; they are free to wan-
der from God and heaven, and carry us to
perdition : And we are guilty of many pol-
lutions this way that we never acted. Men
are less sensible of heart-wickedness, if it
break not forth ; but it is far more active in
sin than any of the senses, or the whole
body. The motion of spirits is far swifter
than of bodies ; it can make a greater pro-
gress in any of these wanderings in one
hour, than the body is able to overtake in
many days.
When the body is tied to attendance in
the exercises wherein we are now employed,
yet know you not ? (It is so much the worse,
if you do not know, and feel it and bewail
it.) Know you not, I say, that the heart
can take its liberty, and leave you nothing
but a carcase ? This the unrenewed heart
doth continually : " They come and sit be-
fore me as my people, but their heart is after
their covetousness," Ezekiel xxxiii. 31. It
hath another way to go, another God to
wait on.
But are now returned.} Whatsoever
are the several ways of our straying, all our
wandering is the aversion of the heart from
God ; whence of necessity follows a •XHtti-
nual unsettledness and disquiet ; the mind is
as a wave of the sea, tossed to and fro with
the wind ,- it tumbles from one sin ano
144
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAV. IT
vanity to another, and tinds no rest ; as a
sick person tosses from one side to another,
and from one part of his bed to another, and
perhaps changes his bed, in hope of ease,
but still it is farther off; thus is the soul in
all its wanderings : But shift and change as
it will, no rest will it find until it come to
this returning, Jer. ii. 3C, " Why gaddest
thou about so much to change thy way ?
thou shall be ashamed of Egypt as thou wast
of Assyria." Nothing but sorrow and shame
till you change all those ways for this one.
Return, O Israel, says the Lord ,• if thou
wilt return, return unto me. It is not
changing one of your own ways for another
that will profit you ; but in returning to me
is your salvation.
Seeing we find in our own experience, be-
sides the woful end of our wanderings, the
present perplexity and disquiet of them, why
are we not persuaded to this to give up with
them all ? Return unto thy rest, O my
soul, says David, Psal. cxvi. 7 ; this were
our wisdom.
But is not that God, in whom we expect
rest, incensed against us for our wandering ;
and is he not, being offended, a consuming
fire ? True, but this is the way to find ac-
ceptance and peace, and satisfying comforts
in returning. Come first to this Shephert
of souls Jesus Christ, and by him come un-
to the Father ; no man comes unto the Fa-
(her, says he, but by me. This is via regia
the high and right way of returning unto God
John x. 11, I am the good Shepherd, anr
ver. 9, " I am the Door, by me if any mar
enter in, he shall be saved :" But if he mis:
this door, he shall iniss salvation too. " Ye
are returned, (says the apostle,) unto th
Shepherd and Bishop of your souls."
There be three things necessary to restore
us to our happiness, whence we have depart
ed in our wanderings : 1. To take awa)
the guiltiness of those former wanderings
2. To reduce us into the way again. 3. T(
keep and lead us in it.
Now, all these are performable by this
great Shepherd, and by him only. 1. He
did satisfy for the offence of our wanderings,
and so remove our guiltiness ; he himself,
the Shepherd, became a sacrifice for his flock,
a sheep or spotless lamb, as Isa. liii. 6, We
like sheep have gone astray, and immediate-
ly after our straying is mentioned, it is add-
ed, The Lord laid or made meet on him,
the iniquity of us all, of all our strayings ;
and ver. 7, he that is our Shepherd, the same
is the Lamb for sacrifice : so our apostls,
,nd amendment, think not that there is a
atisfaction due for past wanderings ; and
herefore they pass by Christ, and consider
not the necessity of returning to him, and by
lim to the Father.
2. He brings them back into the way of
ife, Ye are returned : But think not it is
>y their own knowledge and skill that they
discover their error, and find out the right
>ath, and by their own strength that they
return into it. No, if we would contest •
jrammaticisms, the word here is passive, ye
are returned, reduced, or caused to return :
But this truth hangs not on so weak notions
as are often used, either for or against it.
In that prophecy, Ezek. xxxiv. 10, / will
seek and briny again, &c. : and Psalm
xxiii. 3, He restoreth or returneth my soul.
And that this is the work of this Shepherd,
the Lord Jesus, God-man, is clearly" and
frequently taught in the gospel. He came
for this very end ; it was his errand and busi-
ness in the world, to seek and to save that
which was lost. And thus it is represented
in the parable, he goes after thai which it
lost until he find it, and then having found
it, doth not only shew it the way, and say
to it, return, and so leave it to come after,
but he lays it on his shoulder, and brings \\
home ; and notwithstanding all his pains,
instead of complaining against it for wander,
ing, he rejoices in that he hath found and
recovered it ; he lays it on his shoulder re-
joicing, Luke xv. 4, 5. And in this there
is as much of the resemblance as in any othel
thing. Lost man can no more return un-
sought, than a sheep that wandereth, which
is observed of all creatures to have least of
that skill. Men may have some confused
thoughts of returning ; but they cannot know
the way and come home, unless they be
sought out. This therefore is David's suit,
Psal. cxix. ult. though acquainted with the
fold, / have gone astray like a lost sheep }
Lord, seek thy servant. This did our great
and good Shepherd, through those difficult
ways he was to pass, for finding us ; here-
in lie not only hazarded, but really laid down
his life ; and those shoulders that did bear
the iniquity of our wandering by expiation,
upon the same doth he bear, and bring us
back from it by effectual conversion.
3. He keeps and leads us on in that way,
into which he hath reduced us ; he leaves
us not again to try our own skill, if we can
walk to heaven alone, being set into the path
of it ; but he still conducts us in it by his
chap. i. We are redeemed not by silver and
gold, &c. but by the precious blood of
Christ, as nf a lamb without blemish, and
without spot ; so John x. He in the good
Shepherd that lays down his life for his
sheep. Men think not on this; many of
them that have some thoughts of returning
own hand, and that is the cause of our per.
sisting in it, and attaining the blessed end
of it. He returneth my soul, says the Psal-
mist : and that is not all ; he adds, he lead"
eth me in the paths of righteousness for hit
name's sake ; by those paths are the green
pastures meant, and the still waters that he
speaks of, Psal. xxiii. 2, 3. And thus wi
VER. 25.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
145
n>ay judge, whether we are of his flock. Are
we led in the paths of righteousness ? Do
tee delight ourselves in him, and his ways ?
Are they the proper refreshment of our souls ?
Do we find his word sweet unto our taste ?
Are we taken with the green pastures in it,
and the crystal streams of consolations that
glide through it ? Can we discern Ms voice,
and does it draw our heart, so that we follow
it ? John x. 27-
The Shepherd and Bishop. ] It was the
style of kings to be called shepherds ; and it
is the dignity of the ministers of the gospel,
to have both these names : But this great
Shepherd and Bishop is peculiarly worthy
of these names, as supreme ; he alone is the
universal Shepherd and Bishop : and none
but an antichrist, that makes himself as
Christ, that kills and destroys the flock, will
assume this title, that belongs only to the
Lord, the great owner of his flock. He him-
self is their great Shepherd and Bishop :
All shepherds and bishops that are truly such,
have their function and place from him, they
h<>)d of him, and follow his rules and ex-
ample, in their inspection of the flock. It
were the happiness of kingdoms, if magi-
strates and kings would set Him, his love,
meekness, and equity, before their eyes in
their government. All those that are pro-
perly his bishops, are especially obliged to
study this pattern, to wann their affections
to the flock, and excite a tender care of their
salvation, by looking on this Archbishop
and Arch shepherd, (as our apostle calls
him,) and in their measure, to follow his
footsteps, spending their life and strength in
seeking the good of his sheep, considering
that they are subordinately shepherds of souls,
that is, in dispensing spiritual things ; so far
the title is communicable.
The Lord Jesus is supremely and sin-
gularly such : they under him are shepherds
of souls, because their diligence concerns the
soul, which excluded not the body in spiri
tual respects, as it is capable of things spiri
tual and eternal by its union with the soul
But Christ is sovereign Shepherd of soul
above all, and singular, in that he not onl;
teaches them the doctrine of salvation, bu
purchased salvation for them, and reache,
the soul powerfully, which ministers, by thei
own power, cannot do. He lays hold on it
And reduces, and leads it, and causes it t(
walk in his ways. In this sense it .agrees t
him alone, as supreme, in the incommuni
cable sense.
And from his conduct, power, and love
flows all the comfort of his flock, when the
consider their own folly and weakness. Thi
alone gives them confidence, that his han
guides them, and they believe his strengt
is far surpassing that of the roaring lion
John x, 28, 29, 30. His wisdom in know
ing their particular state, and their weakness
nd his tender love, pitying them, and apply-
g himself to it. Other shepherds, even
aithful ones, may mistake, and not know
le way of leading them in some particulars,
nd they may be sometimes wanting in that
:nder affection that they owe, or if they
ave that, yet are not able to bear them up,
nd support them powerfully : But this Shep-
erd is perfect in all these, Isaiah xl. 11.
he young and weak Christian, or the elder
t weak times, when they are big and heavy
ith some inward exercise of mind, which
lall bring forth advantage and peace after-
wards to them ; them he leads gently, and
ses them with the tenderness that their
weakness requires.
And, in the general, he provides for his
ock, and heals them when they are any way
urt, and washes and makes them fruitful ;
so that they are as that flock, described Cant,
v. 2 ; they are comely, but their Shepherd
much more : He is formosi pecoris cimtos,
'ormosior ipse. They are given him in the
Bather's purpose and choice, and so they that
eturn, even while they wander, are sheep
n some other sense than the rest that perish.
They are, in the sacred love of election, of
host's sheepfold, though not as yet actually
>rought into it : But when his time comes,
wheresoever they wander, and how far off so-
ever, even those that have strayed most, yet
le reduces them, and rejoices heaven with
heir return, and leads them till he brings
hem to partake of the joy that is there.
That is the end of the way wherein he guides
ihem, John x. 27, 28, they hear my voice,
and follow me, and they shall never repen*
of having done so. To follow him is to fol«
ow life ; for he is life, John xiv. 6. And
le is in that glory which we desire. And
where would we be, if not there where he is,
who, at his parting from the world, said,
where I am, there they shall be also 9 To
this happy meeting and heavenly abode, may
God, of his infinite mercy, bring us, through
Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
CHAP. III.
VER. 1. Likewise, ye wives, be in subjection to
your own husbands; that, if any obey not I).-,-
word, they also, without the word, may be won
by the conversation of the wives.
THE tabernacle of the sun is set high in
the heavens, but it is that it may have in-
fluence below upon the earth : And the
word of God, that is spoke of there imme.
diately after, asbeingmany wayslike it, holds
resemblance in this particular : it is a sublime
heavenly light, and yet descends, in its use,
to the lives of men, to the variety of their
stations ; to warm and to enlighten, to re-
gulate their affections and actions, in what-
K
A COMMENTARY UPON
CHAP. nr.
soever course of life they are called to. By
a perfect revolution or circuit, (as there it is
said of the sun), it visits all ranks and es-
tates, Ps il. xix. 6. " Its going forth is
from the end of heaven, and his circuit unto
the ends of it, and there is nothing hid from
the heat of it." This word disdains not to
teach the very servants, in their low con-
dition and employments, how to behave
themselves, and sets before them no meaner
example than that of Jesus Christ, which is
the highest of all examples ; and here the
apostle proceeds to give rules adapted to that
relation, which is the main one in families,
husbands and wives : For the order, it is
indifferent, yet, possibly, he begins here at
the wives, because his former rules were given
to inferiors, to subjects and servants ; and
the duty he commends particularly here to
them, is subjection ; likewise, ye wives, be
in subjection, fyc.
After men have said all they can, and
much it may be to little purpose, in running
the parallel between these two states of life,
marriage and celibacy, the result will be
found, I conceive, all things being truly esti-
mated, very little odds, even in natural re-
spects, in the things themselves, saving only
as the particular condition of persons, and
the hand of divine Providence turns the
balance the one way or other : And the
writing of satires against either, or panegy-
rics on the one in prejudice of the other, is
but a caprice of men's minds, according to
their own humour : But in respect of reli-
gion, the apostle having scanned the subject
to the full, leaves it indifferent, only requir-
ing in those that are so engaged, hearts as
disengaged as may be, " that they that marry
oe as if they married not," &c. 1 Cor. vii. 29.
31. Within a while it will be all one, as
he adds that grave reason for the fashion
[ff^Ji^a] of this world passeth ; it is but a
pageant, a show of an hour long, [•m.^ayii^
goes by, and is no more seen : Thus the
great pomps and solemnities of marriages of
kings and princes in former times, where are
they ? Oh ! how unseemly is it to have an
immortal soul drowned in the esteem and
affection of any thing that perishes, and to
be cold and indifferent in seeking after a good
that will last as long as itself. Aspire to
that good which is the only match for the
soul, that close union with God which can-
not be dissolved ; which he calls an everlast-
ing marriage, Hos. ii. 19, that will make
you happy, either with the other, or without
it. All the happiness of the most excellent
persons, and the very top of all affection and
prosperity meeting in human marriages, are
but a dark and weak representation of the
solid joy that is in that myterious divine
union with the spirit of man with the Father
of spirits, from whom it issues. But this
by the way.
The common spring of all mutual duties,
on both sides, is to be supposed love : Thai
peculiar conjugal love, that makes them one,
will infuse such sweetness into the authority
of the husband, and obedience of the wife,
as will make their lives harmonious ; like
the sound of a well-tuned instrument :
Whereas without that, having such an uni.
versal conjuncture of interest in all their
affairs, they cannot escape frequent contests
and discords ; which is a sound more un-
pleasant than the jarring of untuned string?
to an exact ear. And this should be con-
sidered in the choice, that it be not, as it is
too often, (which causeth so many domestic
ills, (contracted only as a bargain of outward
advantages, but as an union of hearts : And
where this is not, and there is something
wanting in this point of affection, there, if
the parties, or either of them, have any sav-
ing knowledge of God, and access to him in
prayer, they will be earnest suitors for his
help in this, that His hand may set right
what no other can ; that He, who is love it-
self, may infuse that mutual love into their
hearts now, which they should have sought
sooner. And they that sensibly want this,
ind yet seek it not of Him, what wonder is
it, though they find much bitterness and dis-
content ; yea, where they agree, if it be only
in natural affection, their observance of the
duties required, is not by far either so com-
fortable and pleasing, or so sure and lasting,
as when it ariseth from a religious and Chris-
tian love in both, that will cover any failings,
and take things by the best side.
Love is the prime duty in both, the basis
of all ; but because the particular character
of it, as proper to the wife, is conjugal obe-
dience and subjection, therefore that is usually
specified, Eph. v. 12. Wives, submit your-
selves unto your own husbands, as unto the
Lord: so here. Now, if it be such obe-
dience as ought to arise from a special kind
of love, then the wife should remember this,
that it must not be constrained uncheerful
obedience ; and the husband would remem-
ber, that he ought not to require base and
servile obedience : for both these are contrary
to that love, whereof this obedience must
:arry the true tincture and relish, as flowing
from it ; there it will hold right, where love
commands, and love obeys.
This subjection,as all other, is qualified thus,
that it be in the Lord. His authority is primi-
tive, and binds first, and all others have their
patents and privileges from him ; therefore he
is supremely and absolutely to be observed in
all. If the husband would draw the wife to
in irreligious course of life and looseness, he
s not to be followed in this, but in all things
indifferent, this obedience must hold ; which
forbids not, neither, a modest advice and re-
presentation to the husband of that which is
more convenient : But that done, a submis-
VER. I.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
147
fcive yielding to the husband's will is the suit-
ing of this rule. Yea, possibly, the husband
may not only imprudently, but unlawfully, will
that, which, if not in its own nature a thing
unlawful, the wife, by reason of his will, may
obey lawfully, yea, could not lawfully disobey.
Now, though this subjection was a funda-
mental law of pure nature, and came from
that hand that made all things in perfect or-
der, yet sin, which hath imbittered all human
things with a curse, hath disrelished this sub-
jection, and made it taste somewhat of a
punishment, Gen. iii. 16, and that as a suit-
able punishment of the woman's abuse ol'
that power she had with the man, to the
drawing of him to disobedience against God.
The bitterness in this subjection arises
from the corruption of nature in both ; in the
wife, of a perverse desire rather to command,
or at least a repining discontent at the obli-
gation to obey ; and this is increased by the
disorder, and imprudence, and harshness of
husbands, in the use of their authority.
But in a Christian, the conscience of divine
appointment will carry it, and weigh down
all difficulties ; for the wife considers her
station, that she is set in it, iTiTiunroiuiiiti,
it is the rank the Lord's hand hath placed
Jier in, and therefore she will not break it ;
out of respect and love to him, she can digest
much frowardness of a husband, and make
that, her patient subjection, a sacrifice unto
God, " Lord, I offer this to thee, and for
thy sake I humbly bear it."
The worth and love of a husband may
cause that respect, where this rule moves not :
but the Christian wife, that hath love to God,
though her husband be not so comely, nor so
wise, nor any way so amiable, as many others ;
yet because he is her own husband, and be-
cause of the Lord's command in the general,
I and his providence in the particular disposal
| of his own, therefore she loves and obeys.
That if any obey not the word.] This
supposes a particular case, and applies the
rule to it ; takes it for granted that a believ-
ing wife will cheerfully observe and respect
a believing husband ; but if he is an unbe-
liever, yet that unties not this engagement ;
yea, there is something in this case which
presses it and binds it the more, a singular
good, which probably may follow upon obey-
ing such ; by that good conversation, they
may be gained who believe not the word ;
not that they could be fully converted with,
out the word, but having a prejudice against
the word, that may be removed by the car-
riage of a believing wife, and they may be
somewhat mollified, and prepared, and indu-
ced to hearken to religion, and take it into
consideration.
This gives not Christians warrant to draw
on this task, and make themselves this work,
by choosing to be joined to an unbeliever,
either a profane or mere natural husband or
wife ; but teacheth them, being so matched,
what should be their great desire, and their
suitable carriage, in order to the attainment
of it. And in the primitive Christian times
this fell out often, that, by the gospel preach-
ed, the husband might be converted from
gross infidelity, Judaism or Paganism, and
not the wife ; or the wife, which is the sup-
position here, and not the husband ; and
there came in the use of this consideration.
And in this is the freedom of divine grace,
to pick and choose where he will, one of a
family, or two of a tribe, as the prophet hath
it, Jer. iii. 14, and according to our Saviour's
word, two in one bed, the one taken and the
other left, Luke xvii. 34. Some selected
ones in a congregation, and in a house, a
rhild, possibly, or servant, or wife, and leave
;he rest. The apostle seems to imply parti-
cularly, that there were many instances of
:his, wives converts and husbands unbeliev~
ng. We can determine nothing of their
conjecture, who think there shall be more of
hat sex nere called the weaker vessels, than
of the other, who shall be vessels of honour,
which God seasons with grace here, and here-
after will till with glory ; but this is clear,
that many of them are converted, while many
men, and divers of them very wise and learn,
ed men, having the same, and far greater
means and opportunities, do perish in unbe-
lief. This, I say, evidences the liberty and
the power of the Spirit of God, that wind
that bloweth inhere it listeth, John xiiL 1 ;
and withal it suits with that word of the a-
postle, that the Lord this way abases these
things that men account so much of, and
hath chosen the weak things of the world,
to confound the mighty, &c. I Cor. i. 26.
Nor doth the pliableness, and tenderness of
their affections, (though grace once wrought
may make good use of that,) make their con.
version easier, but the harder rather; for
through nature's corruption, they would by
that yield more to evil than to good ; but
the efficacy of grace appears much in estab-
lishing their hearts in the love of God, and
making them, once possessed with that, to
be inflexible, and invincible by the tempta-
tions of the world, and the strength and
sleights of Satan. ,
That which is here said of their conver-
sation, holds of the husband, in the like
case, and of friends and kindred, and, gene-
rally, of all Christians, in reference to them
with whom they converse ; that their spotlesi
holy carriage as Christians, and in their
particular stations, as Christian husbands,
or wives, or friends, is a very likely and hope-
ful means of converting others who believe
not. .Men who are prejudiced observe actions
a great deal more than words. In those
first times especially, the blameless carriage
of Christians did much to the increasing oi
their number.
148
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. in.
Strive, ye wives, and others, to adorn and
commend the religion you profess to others,
especially those nearest you, who are averse.
Give no just cause of scandal and prejudice
against religion. Beware not only of gross
failings and ways of sin, but of such impru-
dences as may expose you and your profes-
sion : Study both a holy and wise carriage,
and pray much for it, Jam. i. 5, "If any of
you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that
giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth
not, and it shall be given him."
But if wives, and other private Christians,
be thus obliged, how much more the minis-
ters of the word : Oh ! that we could remem-
ber our deep engagement to holiness of life :
He said right, either teach none, or let your
life teach too, Naz. Cohelleth, anima con-
cionatrix, [the preaching soul,] must the
preacher be, Eccl. i. 1, the word of life spring-
ing from inward affection, and then vita con-
cionatrix [the preaching life] will be added.
The Sunday's sermon lasts but an hour or two,
but holiness of life is a continued sermon all
the week long.
They also without the word may be won. \
The conversion of a soul is an inestimable
gain ; it is a high trading and design to go
about. Oh ! the precious soul, but under-
valued by most ! Will we believe Him that
well knew the price of it, for he paid it, that
the whole visible world is not worth one soul,
the gaining it all cannot countervail that
loss ? Matt. xvi. 26. Thus wives, and hus-
bands, and parents, and friends, if them-
selves converted, would consider seriously,
and apply themselves to pray much that their
unconverted relations, in nature dead, may
be enlivened, and they may receive them
from death ; and esteem of nothing, rest in
no natural content nor gain without that ;
at least using incessant diligence in seeking
it, and their utmost skill and pains in it.
But above all, this is the peculiar task of
ministers, as the apostle often repeats it of
himself, 1 Cor. ix. ; all gains on earth are
base in comparison with this ; a soul con-
verted is gained to itself, gained to the pas-
tor, or friend, or wife, or husband, that sought
it, and gained to Jesus Christ ; * added to
his treasury, who thought not his own pre-
cious blood too dear to lay out for this gain.
VER. 2. While they behold your chaste conversation
coupled with fear.
As all graces are connected in their own
nature, so it is altogether necessary that they
be found so for the end here propounded, the
conversion of those that are strangers to re-
ligion, and possessed with false notions of it,
but it is an even uniform frame of life that
the apostle here teaches Christian wives, par-
ticularly in reference to this end, the gaining
or conversion of unbelieving husbands :
And this we have both in that word, their
conversation, which signifies the whole course
and tract of their lives ; and in the particular
specifying of the several duties proper to that
relation and state of life; 1. Subjection;
2. Chastity ; 3. Fear ; 4. Modesty in out-
ward ornaments ; 5. The inward ornaments
of meekness and quietness of spirit.
The combination of these things makes up
such a wife, and the exercise of them through,
out her life, makes up such a conversation,
as adorns and commends the religion they
profess, and is a fit, and may be a success-
ful, mean of converting the husband, who as
yet professes it not.
Chaste conversation.] It is the proper
character of a Christian to study purity in all
things, as the word ayv»jv in its extent sig-
nifies. Let the world turn that to a reproach,
call them as you will, this is sure, that none
have less fancy and presumption of purity,
than they that have most desire of it. But
the particular pureness here intended is, as
it is rendered, that of chastity, as the word
is often taken ; it being a grace that pecu-
liarly deserves that name, as the sins contra-
ry to it are usually and deservedly called
uncleanness. It is the pure whiteness of
the soul to be chaste ; to abhor and disdain
the swinish puddle of lust, than which there
is nothing that doth more debase the excel-
lent soul ; nothing that more evidently draws
it down below itself, and makes it truly
brutish. The three kinds of chastity, in
virginity, marriage, and widowhood, are all
of them acceptable to God, and suitable to
the profession of a Christian ; therefore, in
general only, whatsoever be our condition of
life, let us in that way conform it, follow the
apostle's rule, possessing those our earthen
vessels, our bodies, in holiness and honour ;
by which there is expressed this same chas-
tity. And this we shall do, if we rightly
remember our calling, as Christians, in what
sort of life soever ; as there he tells us, that
and prejudices against it. It is not the re-
gularity of some particular actions, nor the
observance of some duties, that it will serve ;
» Me male amando, meperdidi; ettesolum.
rendo et pure, amando me eJ te pariter invcni
8 /.?1>11?
unto holiness, 1 Thess. iv. 7-
With fear. ] Either a reverent respect to
their husbands, or the fear of God ; whence
flows best both that and all other observance,
whether of conjugal, or any other Christian
duties. Be not presumptuous (as some) be.
cause you are chaste, but contemper your
conversation that way with a religious fear of
God, that you dare not take liberty to offend
him in any other thing ; and according to his
institution, let it be joined with a reverent
fear of your husbands, shunning to offend
them. But possibly this fear doth parti-
cularly relate to this other duty, with which
i it is joined, chaste conversation with fear {
:K. 3, 4.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
149
fearing the least stain of chastity, or the very
least appearance of any thing not suiting
with it. It is a delicate timorous grace,
afraid of the least air or shadow of any thing
that hath but a resemblance of wronging it,
in carriage, or speech, or apparel, as follows
in the 3d and 4th verses.
VKR. 3. Whose adorning, let it not be that outward
adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of
gold , or of putting on of apparel ;
VER. 4. But let it be the hidden man of the heart,
in that which is not corruptible, even the orna-
ment of a meek and quiet spirit, which is, in the
sight of God, of great price.
THAT nothing may be wanting to the
qualifying of a Christian wife, she is taught
how to dress herself: Supposing a general
desire, but especially in that sex, of orna-
ment and comeliness ; the sex, that began
first our engagement to the necessity of cloth,
ing, having still a peculiar propension to be
curious in that, and to improve the necessity
to an advantage.
The direction here given corrects the mis-
placing of this diligence, and addresses it
right, t. e. Let it not be of the outward
•nan, in plaiting, &c.
Our perverse crooked hearts turn all »ve
use into disorder. Those two necessities of
our life, food and raiment, how few know
the right measure and bounds of them ! Un-
less poverty be our carver, and cut us short,
who, almost, is there that is not bent to
something excessive ? Far more are behold-
en to the lowliness of their estate, than to
the lowliness of their mind, for sobriety in
these things ; and yet some will not be so
bounded neither, but will profusely lavish
out upon trifles, to the sensible prejudice of
their estate.
It is not my purpose, nor do I think it
very needful, to debate many particulars of
apparel and ornament of the body, their law-
fulness or unlawfulness : Only,
\st, It is out of doubt, that, though cloth-
ing was first drawn on by necessity, yet all
regard of comeliness and ornament in ap-
parel is not unlawful ; nor doth the apostle's
expression here, rightly considered, fasten
that upon the adorning he here speaks of.
He doth no more universally condemn the
use of gold for ornament, than he doth any
other comely raiment which here he means
by that general word of putting on of ap-
oarel, for his [not] is comparative ; not
this adorning, but the ornament of a meek
spirit, that rather, and as much more comely
and precious : as that known expression,
Hos. vi. ver. 6, / will have mercy and not
sacrifice.
2dly, According to the different place and
quality of persons, there may be difference
in thi? : Thus, the robes of judges and
princes are not only for personal ornament,
but because there is in them, especially to
vulgar eves, that seldom look deeper than
the outside of things, there is, I say, in that
apparel, a representation of authority or
majesty, that befits their place : And besides
this, other persons that are not in public
place, men or women, that are here particu-
larly directed, yet may have in this some
mark of their rank ; and in persons other-
wise little distant, some allowance may be
made for the habits and breeding of s me
beyond others, or the quality of their society,
and those with whom they converse.
3<lly, It is not impossible that there may
be in some an affected pride in the meanness
of apparel ; and in others, under either neat
or rich attire, a very humble unaffected mind ;
using it upon some of the afore-mentioned
engagements, or such like, and yet the heart
not at all upon it.*
4/A/y, It is as sure as any of these, that
real excess and vanity in apparel will creep
in, and will always willingly convey itself
under the cloak of some of these honest and
lawful considerations. This is a prime piece
of our heart's deceit, not only to hold out
fair pretences to others, but to put the trick
upon ourselves, to make ourselves believe we
are right and single-minded, in those things
wherein we are directly serving our lusts and
feeding our own vanity.
5thiy, To a sincere and humble Chris-
tian, very little, either dispute or discourse,
concerning this, will be needful; a tender
conscience, and a heart purged from vanity,
and weaned from the world, will be sure to
regulate this, and all other things of this
nature, after the safest manner ; and will be
wary,
1. Of lightness and fantastic garb in ap-
parel, which is the very bush or sign hang-
ing out, that tells a vain mind lodges within.
2. Of excessive costliness, which both ar-
gues and feeds the pride of the heart, and
defrauds, if not others of their dues, yet the
poor of thy charity, which, in God's sight, is
a due debt too ; and far more comfort shall
thou have on thy death-bed, to remember
that such a time, instead of putting lace on
my own clothes, I helped a naked back to
clothing,. I abated somewhat of my former
superfluities, to supply the poor's necessities :
far sweeter will this be, than to remember,
that I could needlessly cast out many pounds
to serve my pride, rather than give a penny
to relieve the poor.
As conscientious Christians will not exceed
in the thing itself ; so, in as far as they use
lawful ornament and comeliness, they will
do it without bestowing much, either dili-
gence or delight, in the business.
To have the mind taken and pleased with
such things, is so foolish and childish a
thing, that if most might not find in them.
• Magnus qui fictilibus utitur tanquam arsrento,
nee ille minor qui argento tanquam fictilibus
SBN.
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. in.
Thy neck is comely with
selves they would wonder at many others, Cant. i. 10, 11, " Thy neck is comely wit!
of years and common wit.» And yet truly it chains ; we will make thee borders of gold.'
is a disease that few escape. It is stran
upon how poor things men and women will
4>e vain, and think themselves somebody ;
not only upon some comeliness in their face
or feature, which, though poor, yet is a part
of themselves, but of things merely without
them; that they are well lodged, or well
mounted, or well apparelled, either richly or
well in fashion. Light empty minds are as
Lladders blown up with any thing ; and they
that perceive no. this in themselves are most
drowned ; but such as have found it out,
and abhor their own follies, are still hunting
and following these in themselves, to beat
them out of their hearts, and to shame them
from such fopperies. The soul, fallen from
God, hath lost its true worth and beauty ;
and therefore it basely descends to these
mean things, to serve and dress the body,
and take share with it of its unworthy bor-
rowed ornaments ; while it hath lost and for-
gotten God, and seeks not after him, knows
not that He alone is the beauty and orna-
ment of the soul, Jer. ii. 32, and his Spirit,
and the grace of it, its rich attire, here par-
ticularly specified in one excellent grace ;
and it holds true in the rest.
The apostle doth, indeed, expressly on
purpose check and forbid vanity and excess
in apparel, and excessive delight in lawful
decorum, but his prime end is to recom-
mend the other ornament of the soul, The
hidden man of the heart.
It is the thing the best philosophy aimed
at, as some of their chiefest men do express
it, to reduce men, as much as may be, from
their body to their soul ; but this is the
thing that true religion alone doth effectually
and thoroughly ; from the pampering and
feeding of a morsel for the worms, to the
nourishing of that immortal being infused
into it ; which, therefore, it directs to the
proper nourishment of souls, the bread that
came down from heaven, John vi. 2?.
So here the apostle pulls off from Chris-
tian women their vain outside ornaments :
But, is not this a wrong to spoil all their
dressing and fineness ? No, he doth this,
only to send them to a better wardrobe ; and
there is much profit in the change.
All the gold, and other riches of the tem-
ple, figured the excellent graces of Chris-
tians, of Christ indeed first, as having all
fulness in himself, and furnishing them;
but secondarily of Christians, as the living
temples of God. So the church is all glo-
rious, but it is within, Psal. xlv. 13. And
the embroidery, the variety of graces, the
lively colours of other graces, shine best on
the dark ground of humility. Christ de-
lights to give much ornament to his church
commends what she hath, and adds more,
» Non bis pueri, sed semper
The particular grace he recommends, i*
particularly suitable to his subject in hand,
the conjugal duty of wives ; nothing so
much adorning their whole carriage, as this
meekness and quietness of spirit. But it
is, withal, the comeliness of every Christian
in every state ; it is not a woman's garment
or ornament, improper for men. There is
somewhat, (as I may say,) of a particular
cut or fashion of it for wives towards their
husbands, and in their domestic affairs ; but
men, all men, ought to wear of the same
stuff; yea, so if I may speak, of the same
piece ; for it is in all, one and the same spirit,
and fits the stoutest and greatest command-
ers. Moses was a great general, and yet
no less great in this virtue the meekest man
on earth.
Nothing is more uncomely in a wife than
an uncomposed turbulent spirit, that is put
out of frame with every trifle, and inventive
of false causes of disquietncss and fretting
to itself. And so in a husband, and in all,
an unquiet passionate mind lays itself naked,
and discovers its own deformity to all. The
greatest part of things that vex us, do so,
not from their own nature or weight, but
from the unsettledness of our minds. *
How comely is it to see a composed firm
mind and carriage, that is not lightly
moved !
I urge not a stoical stupidity ; but, that
in things that deserve sharp reproof, the
mind keep in its own station and seat still,
not shaken out of itself, as the most are ;
that the tongue utter not unseemly rash
words, nor the hand act any thing that dis-
covers the mind hath lost its command for
the time. But truly, the most know so ill
how to use just anger, upon just cause, that
it is easier, and the safer extreme, not to be
angry, but still calm and serene, as the upper
region ; not the place of continual tempests
and storms, as the most are ; let it pass for
a kind of sheepishness to be meek, it is a
likeness to Him that " was as a sheep be-
fore the shearers, not opening his mouth,"
Isa. liii. 7 ; it is a portion of His spirit.
The apostle commends his exchange of
ornaments from two things : 1. This is in-
corruptible, and therefore fits an incorrupti-
ble soul. Your varieties of jewels and rick
apparel are perishing things ; you shall one
day see an heap made of all, and that all on
a flame ; and in reference to you, they perish
sooner ; when death strips you of your near-
est garment, your flesh, all the other, which .
were but loose upper garments above it, must
off too. It gets indeed a covering for the
grave, but the soul is left stark naked, if no
other clothing be provided for it, for the
body was but borrowed : then it is made
* Multa nos oftendunt qua? non laediir.t.
VER. 5, 0, 7-1
TUB FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
151
bare of all. But spiritual ornaments, and
this humility and meekness, here, among the
rest, remain and are incorruptible; they
neither wear out, nor out of fashion, but are
still the better for the wearing, and shall last
to eternity, and shine there in full lustre.
And, 2. Because the opinion of others
is much regarded in matter of apparel, and
it is mostly in respect to this that we use
ornament in it, he tells us of the account of
this. Men think it poor and mean, nothing
more exposed to contempt than the spirit of
meekness ; it is mere folly with men, but
that is no matter, this overweighs all their
disesteem, it is with God of great price,
and things are indeed as he values them,
and no otherwise. Though it be not the
country fashion, yet it is the fashion at court,
yea, it is the King's own fashion, Matt xi.
29, Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly,
&c. Some that are court-bred will send for
the masters of fashions, though they live not
in the court ; and though the peasants think
them strange dresses, yet they regard not
that, but use them as finest and best : Care
not what the world say ; you are not to
stay long with them. Desire to have both
fashions and stuff from court, from heaven,
this spirit of meekness, and it shall be sent
you. It is never right in any thing with us
till we attain to this, to tread on the opinion of
men, and eye nothing but God's approbation.
VKR. 5. For after this manner, in the old time,
the holy women also, who trusted in God,
adorned themselves.
VKR. 6. Even as i^arah obeyed Abraham, calling
him Lord, whose daughters ye are as long as ye
do well, and are not afraid with any amazement.
THK apostle enforces his doctrine by ex-
ample, the most compendious way of teach-
ing ; hence the right way to use the Scrip-
tures, is to regulate our manners by them ;
as by their precepts, so by examples. And
for this end it is that a great part of it is
historical. There is not in the saints a
transmigration of souls, but there is, so to
speak, an oneness of souls, they being in all
ages partakers of the self-same Spirit.
Hence the daughters of Sarah are called
pious and obedient wives. Such women are
here designed, 1. As holy. 2. Believing.
3. Firm and resolute, not afraid with any
amazement. Though by nature they are
fearful, yet rendered of undaunted spirits,
by a holy, clean, and pure conscience. Be-
lieving wives who fear God, are not terrified,
their minds are established in a due obedience
to God, and also towards their husbands.
VER. 7. Likewise, ye husbands, dwell with them
according to knowledge, giving honour unto the
wife as unto the weaker vessel, ami as being heirs
together of the grace of life; that your prayers be
not hindered.
YOUR wives are subject to you, but you
likewise ?.K subject to this word, by which
all ought, in all stations, to.be directed, and
bv which, however, all shall one day be judg-
ed ; and alike subject as they, | 'puta -,]
parents as children, masters as servants, and
kings as their subjects ; all hold of a Supe-
rior ; and it is high treason against the Ma-
jesty of God, for any, in any place of com-
mand, to dream of any unbounded absolute
authority, in opposition to Him.
A spirit of prudence or knowledge particu-
larly suitable and relating to this subject, is>
required, as the light and rule by which his
whole economy and carriage is to be guided.
It is required that he endeavour after that
civil prudence for the ordering of his affairs,
that tends to the good of his family, but chief-
ly a pious religious prudence, for regulating
his mind and carriage as a Christian husband ;
that he study the rule of Scripture in this par-
ticular, which many do not : neither advising
with it, what they should do, nor laying it
by reflection upon their past actions, examin-
ing by it what they have done. Now this
is the great fault in all practical things ;
most know something of them, but inadver-
tency and inconsideration, not ordering our
ways by that light, is the thing that spoils all.
Knoidedije is required in the wife, but
more eminently in the husband, as the head,
the proper seat of knowledge. It is possible
that the wife may sometimes have the advan-
tage of knowledge, either natural wit and
judgment, or a great measure of understand-
ing of spiritual things ; but this still holds,
that the husband is bound to improve the
measure both of natural and of spirituij gifts
that he hath, or can attain to, and to apply
them usefully to the ordering of his conjugal
carriage, and that he understand himself ob-
liged somewhat the more, in the very notion
of a husband, both to seek after and to use
that prudence that is peculiarly required for
his due deportment ; and a Christian wife,
who is more largely endued, yet will shew all
due respect to the measure of wisdom, thougli
it be less, that is bestowed upon her husband.
Dwell with them.] This indeed implies
and supposes their abiding with them, so
far as their calling and lawful affairs permit :
But I conceive, that which it expressly means
is all the conversation and duties of that
estate, that they so behave themselves, in
dwelling with them, as becomes men of know-
ledge, wise and prudent husbands, which
returns them usually the gain of that full re-
verence and respect that is due to them, of
which they rob and divest themselves, who
are either of a foolish or trifling carriage, or
of too austere and rigid a conversation.
Giving honour unto the wife.] This, I
conceive, is not as some take it, convenient
maintenance, though that is a requisite duty
too, and may be taken in under this word ;
but it seems to be, chiefly, a due conjugal
esteem of them, and respect to them, the hus-
band not vilifying and despising them, whicn
will be apt to grieve and exasperate them ;
162
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP, nt.
not disclosing the weaknesses of the wife to
others, nor observing them too .narrowly
himself; but hiding them both from others
and his own eyes, by love ; not seeing them
further than love itself requires, that is, to
the wise rectifying of them by mild advices
and admonitions, that flow from love. And
to this the reasons indeed suit well : It
seems at first a little incongruous, honour
because weaker : but the pertinency of it
appears, considering this kind of honour ;
not of reverence, as superior, for that is their
part, but such an esteem and respect without
which, indeed, love cannot consist ; for we
cannot love that which we do not in some
good measure esteem well of: And care
should be taken that they be not contemned
and slighted, even because they are weaker ;
for, of all injuries, contempt is one of the most
smarting and sensible, especially to weak
persons, who feel most exactly the least touch-
es of this ;* whereas greater spirits are a
little harder against opinion, and more in-
different for it. Some wives may be of a
stronger mind and judgment than the hus-
bands, yet these rules icspect the general
condition of the sexes, and speak of the fe-
males as ordinarily weaker.
Again, Love, which is ever to be supposed
one article, and the main one ; for nothing
indeed can be right where that supposition
proves false : Love, I say, supposed, this
reason is very enforcing, that the weaker the
vessels be, the more tenderly they should be
used, and the more a prudent passing by of
frailties is needful ; there love will study it,
and bestow it the more. Yea, this tie, you
snow, makes two one ; and that which is a
part of ourselves, the more it needs that, the
more comeliness we put upon it, as the a-
postle St. Paul tells us, 1 Cor. xii. 23. And
this further may be considered, that there is
a mutual need of this honouring, that con-
sists in not despising, and in covering of
frailties, as is even implied in this, that the
woman is not called simply weak, but the
weaker ; and the husband, that is generally,
by nature's advantage, or should be, the
stronger, yet is weak too ; for both are vessels
of earth, and therefore frail ; both polluted
with sin, and therefore subject to a multitude
of sinful follies and frailties : but as that
particular frailty of nature pleads for women
that honour, so the other reason added is
not from particular disadvantage, but from
their common privilege, and advantage of
grace, as Christians, that the Christian hus-
band and wife are equally co-heirs of the
same grace of life.
As being heirs together of the grace of
life. ] This is that which most strongly binds
on all these duties, on the hearts of husbands
and wive s ; and most strongly indeed binds
their hearts together, and makes them one.
* Omnc infirmum natura 'lueruluni.
If each be reconciled unto God in Christ,
and so heirs of life, and one with God, then
are they truly one in God, each with other ;
and that is the surest and sweetest union
that can be. Natural love hath risen very
high in some husbands and wives ; but
the highest of it falls very far short of that
which holds in God. Hearts concentring in
him are most excellently one. That love
which is cemented by youth and beauty, when
these moulder and decay, as soon they do,
it fades too. That is somewhat purer, and
so more lasting, that holds in a natural or
moral harmony of minds, yet these likewise
may alter and change by some great accident.
But the most refined, most spiritual, and
most indissoluble, is that which is knit with
the highest and purest Spirit. And the
ignorance or disregard of this is the true
cause of so much bitterness, or so little true
sweetness in the life of most married persons,
because God is left out, because they meet
not as one in him.
Heirs together.] Loath will they be to
despise one another, that are both bought
with the precious blood of one Redeemer ;
and loath to grieve one another ; being in
him brought into peace with God, they will
entertain true peace betwixt themselves, and
not suffer any thing to disturb it. They
have hopes to meet one day, where is nothing
but perfect concord and peace ; they will
therefore live as heirs of that life here, and
make their present estate as like to heaven
as they can, and so a pledge and evidence of
their title to that inheritance of peace that
is there laid up for them. And they will
not fail to put one another often in mind of
those hopes, and that inheritance, and mu-
tually to advance and further each other to-
wards it : Where this is not minded, it is
to little purpose to speak of other rules ; where
neither party aspires to this heirship, live
they otherwise as they will, there is one com-
mon inheritance abiding them, one inheri-
tance of everlasting flames ; and, as they do
increase the sin and guiltinesstof one another
by their irreligious conversation, so that
which some of them do wickedly here, upon
no great cause, they shall have full canst
for doing there ; cause to curse the time of
their coming together ; and that shall be a
piece of their exercise for ever : But happy
those persons, in any society of marriage or
friendship, that converse so together, as those
that shall live eternally together in glory.
This indeed is the sum of all duties.
Life.] A sweet word, but sweetest of
all in this sense, that life above is indeed only
worthy the name ; and this we have here in
comparison, let it not be called life, but con-
tinual dying ; an incessant journey towards
the grave. If you reckon years, it is but a
short moment to him that attains the fullest
old age : But reckon miseries and sorrows,
VEIL 7-J
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
it is long to him that dies young. Oh !
that this only blessed life were more known,
and then it would be more desired.
Grace.] This is the tenor of this heirship,
free grace ; this life a free gift, Rom. vi. ult.
No life so spotless either in marriage or vir-
ginity as to lay claim to this life upon other
terms. If we consider but a little what it
is, and what we are, this will be quickly out
of question with us ; and we shall be most
gladly content to hold it thus, by deed of
gift, and shall admire and extol that grace
that bestows it.
That your prayers be not hindered.] He
supposes in Christians, the necessary and fre-
quent use of this ; takes it for granted, that
the heirs of life cannot live without prayer.
This is the proper breathing and language
of these heirs ; none of them is dumb, they
can all speak. These heirs, if they be alone
they pray alone : if heirs together, and living
together, they pray together. Can the husband
and wife have that love, wisdom and meek-
ness, that may make their life happy, and
that blessing that may make their affairs
successful, while they neglect God, the only
giver of these and all good things ? You
think these needless motives, but you cannot
think how it would sweeten your converse
if it were used. It is prayer that sanctifies,
seasons and blesses all ; and it is not enough
that they pray when with the family, but even
husband and wife together by themselves,
and with their children ; that they, especially
the mother, as being most with them in
their childhood, when they begin to be capa-
ble, may draw them apart, and offer them to
God, often praying with them, and instruct-
ing them in their youth ; for they are pliable
while young, as glass when hot, but after, will
sooner break than bend.
But above all, prayer is necessary ; as they
are heirs of heaven, they should be often
sending up their desires thither. You that
are not much in prayer, appear as if you
looked for no more than what you have here.
If you had an inheritance and treasure above,
would not your hearts delight to be there ?
Luke xii. 34. Thus the heart of a Chris-
tian is in the constant frame of it ; but after
a special manner, prayer raises the soul above
the world, and sets it in heaven : It is its near
access unto God, and dealing with him, es-
pecially about those affairs that concern that
inheritance. Now in this lies a great part
of the comfort a Christian can have here ; and
the apostle knew this, that he would gain
any thing at their hand, that he pressed by
this argument, that otherwise they would be
hindered in their prayers. He knew, that
they who are acquainted with prayer find
such unspeakable sweetness in it, that they
vill rather do any thing than be prejudiced
in that.
Now, the breach of conjugal love, the jars
153
and contentions of husband and wife, do out
of doubt so leaven and imbitter their spirits,
that they are exceeding unit for prayer, which
is the sweet harmony of the soul in God's
ears ; and when the soul is so far out of tune
as those distempers make it, he cannot but
perceive it, whose ear is the most exact of all ;
for he made and tuned the ear, and is the
fountain of harmony. It cuts the sinews
and strength of prayer, makes breaches and
gaps as wounds, at which the spirits fly out
as the cutting of a vein, by which, as they
speak, it bleeds to death. When the soul is
calm and composed, it may behold the face
of God shining on it ; and they that pray
together, should not only have hearts in tune
within themselves in their own frame, but
tuned together, especially husband and wife,
that are one ; they should have hearts con-
sorted and sweetly tuned to each other for
prayer. So the word is, i«» ffvpQwruirtt.
Mat. xviii. 19.
And it is true, in the general, that all un-
wary walking in Christians, wrongs their
communion with heaven, and casts a damp
upon their prayers, so as to clog the wings
of it. These two mutually help one another,
prayer and holy conversation : the more
exactly we walk, the more fit are we for pray-
er ; and the more we pray, the more are we
enabled to walk exactly ; and it is a happy
life to find the correspondence of these two,
calling on the Lord and departing from
iniquity, 1 Tim. ii. 29. Therefore, that
you may pray much, live holily, and that
you may live holily, be much in prayer :
surely such are the heirs of glory, and this
is their way to it.
VER. 8. Finally, be ye all of one mind, having
co npassion one of another; love as brethren, be
pitiful, be courteous.
HERE the particular rules the apostle
gives to several relations, fall in again to the
main current of his general exhortation, that
concerns us all as Christians. The return
of his discourse to this universality is ex-,
pressed in that, finally, and the universa-,
lity of these duties, all. It is neither pos-
sible nor convenient to descend to every par,
ticular ; but there is supposed in a Chris,
dan an ingenuous and prudent spirit, to
adapt those general rules to their particular
actions and conversation ; squaring by them
before-hand, and examining by them after,
and yet herein the most fail : Men hear these
as general discourses, and let them pass so ;
they apply them not, or, if they do, it is
readily to some other person : But they are
addressed to all, that each one may regulate
himself by them ; and so, these divine
truths are like a well-drawn picture, which
looks particularly upon every one amongst
the great multitude that look upon it. And
this one verse hath a cluster of five Chris-
154
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. in.
tian graces or virtues. That which is in
the middle, as the stalk or root of the rest,
love, and the other growing out of it, two on
each side ;• unanimity and sympathy on the
one side, and pity and courtesy on the
other ; but we shall take them as they lie.
Of one mind.'] This doth not only mean
union in judgment, but it extends likewise
to affection and action ; especially in so far
as they relate to, and depend upon, the
other. And so, I conceive, it comprehends,
in its full latitude, an harmony and agree-
ment of minds, and affections, and carriage,
in Christians, as making up one body, and
a serious study of preserving and increasing
that agreement in all things, but especially
in spiritual things, in which their commu-
nion doth primely consist. And because in
'this, the consent of their judgments, in
matters of religion, is a prime point, there-
fore we will consider that a little more
'particularly.
And first, What it is not.
1. It is not a careless indifferency con-
cerning those things ; not to be troubled
about them at all, nor to make any judgment
concerning them. This is not a loving
agreement, arising from oneness of spirit,
but a dead stupidity, arguing a total spirit-
lessness ; as the agreement of a number of
dead bodies together, which indeed do not
strive and contest, that is, they move not at
all, and that because they live not : So that
concord in things of religion, which is a not
considering them, nor acting of the mind
ibout them, is either the fruit and sign oi
gross ignorance, or of irreligion ; they that
'we wholly ignorant of spiritual things, are
content you determine and impose upon
them what you will ; as in the dark, there
is no difference nor choice of colours, they
are all one : But, 2. which is worse, in some,
this peaceableness about religion is from at
universal unbelief and disaffection ; and that
sometimes comes of the much search ant
knowledge of debates and controversies in
religion. Men having so many disputes
about religion in their heads, and no life of
religion in their hearts, fall into a conceit,
that all is but juggling, and the easiest way
is, to believe nothing ; and these agree with
any, or rather with none. Sometimes it is
from a profane, supercilious disdain of al
these things ; and many there be of those o:
Gallio's temper, that care for none of th
things, and that account all questions in
religion, as lie did, but matter of words anc
names. And by this all religions may agree
together : But it were not a natural union
by the active heat of the Spirit, but a con-
fusion rather, by the want of it ; not a knit-
ting together, but a freezing together, as cole
congregates all bodies, how heterogeneous
soever, sticks, stones, and water : But hea
makes first a separation of different things
and then unites those that are of the san.e
nature.
And to one or other of these two is reduci-
>le much of the common quietness of people's
minds about religion ; all that implicit
Romish agreement that they boast of, what
s it, but a brutish ignorance of spiritual
things, authorised and recommended for that
very purpose ? And amongst the learned
of them, there are as many idle differences
and disputes, as amongst any. It is an
easy way indeed to agree, if all will put out
their eyes, and follow the blind guiding of
their judge of controversies ; this is that
va-oipov QV.^KKO'I, their great device for
Peace, to let the Pope determine all. If all
will resolve to be cozened by him, he will
agree them all ; as if the consciences of men
should only find peace, by being led by the
nose at one man's pleasure ; a way the apos-
tle Paul clearly renounces, 2 Cor. i. 24,
" Not for that we have dominion over your
faith, but are helpers of your joy ; for by
faith ye stand."
And though we have escaped this, yet
much of our common union of minds, I fear,
is from no other than the aforementioned
causes, want of knowledge, and want of affec-
tion to religion. You that boast you live
conformably to the appointments of the
Church, and none hears of your noise, we
may thank the ignorance of your minds for
that kind of quietness. But this unanimity,
here required, is another thing ; and before
I unfold it, I shall premise this, that al-
though it be very difficult, and it may be
impossible, to determine what things are
alone fundamental in religion, under the
notion of difference intended by that word ;
yet it is undoubted, that there be some truths
more absolutely necessary, and therefore ac-
cordingly more clearly revealed, than some
others ; there are fiiyx^a. TOV voptv, great
things of the law, Matt, xxxiii. 23, and so
of the gospel : And though no part of divine
truth, once fully cleared, ought to be slight-
ed, yet there are things that may be true, and
yet are but of less importance, and of less
evidence than others : And this difference
is wisely to be considered by Christians, for
the interest of this agreement of minds here
recommended : and concerning it we may
safely conclude,
1. That Christians ought to have a clear
and unanimous belief of the mysteries and
principles of faith, to agree in those without
controversy. 2. They ought to be diligent
in the research of truth in all things that
concern faith and religion ; and withal to
use all due means for the fullest consent and
agreement in them all that possibly can be
attained. 3. Perfect and universal consent
in all, after all industry bestowed .on it, for
any thing we know, is not here attainable,
neither betwixt all churches, nor all persor.s
THE FIllhT EPISTLE OF PETER.
155
in one and the same church : And therefore,
though church-meetings and synods, as the
fittest and most effectual way to this unity,
should endeavour to bring the church to the
fullest agreement that may be, yet they
should beware, lest the straining it too high
in all things rather break it, and an over-
diligence in appointing uniformities, remove
them further from it : Leaving a latitude
and indifferency in things capable of it, is
often a stronger preserver of peace and unity.
But this by the way ; we will rather give
some few rules that may be of use to every
particular Christian, toward this common
Christian good of unity of mind.
1st, Beware of two extremes, that often
cause divisions, captivity to custom, on the
one hand, and affectation of novelty, on the
other.
2dly, Labour for a staid mind, that will
not be tossed with every wind of doctrine,
Eph. iv. 14, or appearance of reason, as
some, that, like weathercocks, are easily
blown to any side, with mistakes of the
Scriptures, either arising in their own minds,
or suggested by others.
3dly, In unclear and doubtful things, be
not pertinacious, as the weakest minds are
readiest to be, upon seeming reason, which,
tried, will possibly fall to nothing ; yet they
ure most assured, and cannot suffer a differ-
ent thought in any from their own. There
\s naturally this Popeness in every man's
mind, and most, I say, in the shallowest ;
a kind of fancied infallibility in themselves,
which makes them contentious, contrary to
the apostle's rule, Phil. ii. 3, " Let no-
thing be done through strife and vain glory,"
and as earnest upon differing in the smallest
punctilio as in a high article of faith.
Stronger spirits are usually more patient of
contradiction, and less violent, especially in
doubtful things ; and they that see farthest,
are least peremptory in their determinations.
The apostle to Timothy, 2 Epist. i. 7, hath
a word, the spirit of a sound mind ; it is a
goad sound constitution of mind not to feel
every blast, either of seeming reason, to be
taken with it, or of a cross opinion, to be
offended at it.
4lhly, Join that which is there, the spirit
of love, in this particular. Not at all abat-
ing affection for every light difference, (and
this the most are a little to blame in ;) where-
as the abundance of that should rather fill
up the gap of these petty disagreements, that
they do not appear, nor be at all sensibly to
be found. No more disaffection ought to
follow this, than the difference of our laces
and complexions, or feature of body, which
cannot be found in any two alike in all things.
And these things would be of easier per-
suasion, if we considered, 1. How supple
and flexible a thing human reason is, and
therefore not lightly to be trusted to, and
that especially in divine things : tor here we
know but in part, 1 Cor. xiii. D. 2. The
small importance of some things that have
bred much noise and dissension in the world,
as the apostle speaks of the tongue, How
little a spark, how great afire will it kindle,
James iii. 5 ; and a great many of these
debates that cost men so much pain and
time, are as far from clear decision as when
they began, and possibly of so little moment,
that, if they were ended, their profit would
not quit the cost. 3. Consider the strength
of Christian charity, that, if it dwelt much
in our hearts, would preserve this union of
mind, amidst very many different thoughts,
such as they may be, and would teach us
that excellent lesson, the apostle gives to
this purpose, Phil. iii. 15, 16, "Let us
therefore, as many as be perfect, be thus
minded : and if in any thing ye be other-
wise minded, God shall reveal even this un-
to you. Nevertheless, whereunto we have
already attained, let us walk by the same
rule, let us mind the same thing." Let us
follow our Lord unanimously, in what he
hath clearly manifested to us, and given us
with one consent to embrace ; as the spheres,
notwithstanding each one hath its particular
motion, yet all are wheeled about together
with the first.
And that leads us to consider the further
extent of this word, to agree in heart and
conversation, walking by the rule of those
undoubted truths we have received : And
in this I shall recommend these two things
to you :
1. In the defenc2 of the truth, as the
Lord shall call us, let us be of one mind,
and all as one man. Satan acts by that
maxim, and all his followers have it, Divide
and conquer ; and therefore let us hold that
counter-maxim, Union invincible.
2. In the practice of that truth agree as
one. Let your conversation be uniform, by
being squared to that ons rule, and in all
spiritual exercises join as one, be of one
heart and mind. Would not our public-
worship, think you, prove much more both
comfortable and profitable, if our hearts met
in it as one, so that we could say of our
hearing the word, as he, Acts x. 33, We
are all here before God, to hear all things
that are commanded of God? And if our
prayers ascended up as one pillar of incense
to the throne of grace ; if they besieged it,
as an army, all surrounding it together to
obtain favour for ourselves and the Church ?*
This is much with God, the consent of
hearts petitioning. -f So says our Saviour,
Matt, xviii. 20, Where two or three are
gathered ; not their bodies within the same
walls only, for so they are but so many car-
cases tumbled together ; and the promise of
*Stipato agmine Deum ojisidentes. TERTULJ.
\ Kamaest jtinctas fort ins ire prcccs.
156
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. in.
his being amongst us, is not made to that,
" for he is the God of the living and not of
the dead," Matt. xxii. 32 ; it is the spirit
of darkness that abides in the tombs and
graves : but gathered in my name, one in
that holy name, written upon their hearts,
ind uniting them, and so thence expressed
in their joint services and invocations. So
lie vSays there of them ivho agree upon any
thing they shall ask, <niu.$vtw>-j<r*, if all
their hearts present and hold it up together,
if they make one cry or song of it, that har-
mony of their hearts shall be sweet in the
Lord's ears, and shall draw a gracious
answer out of his hand. If ye agree, your
joint petitions shall be as it were an arrest
or decree that shall stand in heaven, it shall
be done for them of my Father which is in
heaven. But alas ! where is our agreement ?
The greatest part of hearts say nothing, and
others with such wavering, and such a jar-
ring harsh noise, being out of tune, earthly,
too low set, that they spoil all, and disap-
point the answers. Were the censer filled
with those united prayers heaven-u ards, it
would be filled with fire earth-wards, against
the enemies of the Church.
And in your private society, seek un-
animously your own, and each other's spiri-
tual good ; not only agreeing in your affairs
and civil converse, but having one heart and
mind, as Christians. To eat and drink to-
gether, if you do no more, is such society
as beasts may have ; to do these in the
excess, to guzzle and drink intemperately
together, is a society worse than that of
beasts, and below them ; to discourse to-
gether of civil business, is to converse as
men. But the peculiar converse of Chris-
tians in that notion, as born again to im-
mortality, an unfading inheritance above,
is to further one another towards that, to
put one another in mind of heaven, and
things that are heavenly. And it is strange
that men that profess to be Christians, when
they meet, either fill one another's ears with
lies and profane speeches, or with vanities
and trifles, or, at the best, with the affairs
of the earth, and not a word of those things
that should most possess the heart, and where
the mind should be most set, but are ready
to reproach and taunt any such thing in
others : What ! are you ashamed of Christ
and religion ? Why do you profess it then ?
Is there such a thing, think ye, as com-
munion of saints ? If not, why do you say
vou believe it ? It is a truth, think of it
as you will ; the public ministry will profit
little any where, where a people, or some part
of them, are not this one, and do not live
together as of one mind, and use diligently
all due means of edifying one another in
their holy faith. How much of the primi-
tive Christians' praise and profit is involved
In the u-ord, they were together [o^o&^aSovl
with one accord, with one mind, and so they
grew ; the Lord added to the Church,
&c. Acts. ii. 1, 44, 47-
Consider, 1. How the wicked are one in
their ungodly designs and practices. " The
scales of Leviathan,'1'1 as Luther expresses
it, "are linked together; shall not the
Lord's followers be one in him ? They
unite o undermine the peace of the Church ;
shall uot the godly join their prayers to coun-
termine them ?"
2. There is in the hearts of all the saints
one spirit. How then can they be but one,
since they have the same purpose and journey,
and tend to the same home ? And why
shall they not walk together in that way ?
When they shall arrive there, they shall be
fully one and of one mind ; not a jar, nor
difference ; all their harps perfectly in tune
to that one new song.
Having compassion. \ This testifies, that
it is not a bare speculative agreement of
opinions that is the badge of Christian unity ,
for this may accidentally be where there is
no further union ; but that they are them-
selves one, and have one life, in that they
feel how it is one with another. There is a
living sympathy amongst them, as making
up one body, animated with one spirit ; for
that is the reason why the members of the
body have that mutual feeling, even the
most remote and distant, and the most ex-
cellent, witli the meanest : This the apostle
urges at large, Rom. xii. 4, and 1 Cor. xii.
14, 17-
And this lively sense is in every livinj;
m iiber of the body of Christ towards tht
whole, and towards each other particular
part. This makes a Christian rejoice in the
welfare and good of another, as if it were his
own ; and feel their griefs and distresses, as
if himself were really sharer in them ; for the
word comprehends all feeling together, feel-
ing of joy as well as of grief, Heb. xiii. 3 ;
1 Cor. xii. 26. And always where there is
most of grace, and of the Spirit of Jesus
Christ, there is most of this sympathy. The
apostle St. Paul, as he was eminent in all
grace, had a large portion of this, 2 Cor. xi.
29. And if this ought to be in reference to
their outward condition, much more in spi-
ritual things, rejoicing at the increase anil
flourishing of grace in others. That base
envy that dwells in the hearts of rotten hy-
pocrites, that would have all engrossed to
themselves, argues, that they move not fur-
ther than the compass of self ; that the
pure love of God, and the sincere love of their
brethren flowing from it, is not in them ;
but when the heart can unfeignedly rejoice
in the Lord's bounty to others, and the lustre
of grace in others, far outshining their own ;
truly it is an evidence, that what grace such
an one hath is upright and good, and that
the law of love is engraven in his heart.
VER. 8.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEll.
157
And where that is, there will be likewise, on
the other side, a compasionate tender sense
of the infirmities and frailties of their bre-
thren. Whereas some account it a sign of
much advancement, and spiritual proficiency,
to be able to sit in judgment upon the qua-
lifications and actions of others, and to lavish
out severe censures round about them ; to
sentence one weak and of poor abilities, and
another proud and lofty, and a third covetous,
&c. ; and thus to go on in a censor-like ma-
gisterial strain. But it were truly an evi-
dence of more grace, not to get upon the
bench to judge them, but sit down rather
and mourn for them, when they are mani-
festly and really faulty ; and for their or-
dinary infirmities, to consider and bear them.
These are the characters we find, in the
Scriptures, of stronger Christians, Rom. xv.
1 ; Gal. vi. 1. This holy and humble sym-
pathy argues indeed, a strong Christian :
And nothing truly (as one says,) shews a
spiritual man so much, as the dealing with
another mail's sins.* Far will he be from
the ordinary way of insulting and trampling
upon the weak, or using rigour and bitter-
ness, even against some gross falls of a Chris-
tian, but will rather vent his compassion in
tears, than his passion in fiery railings : will
bewail the frailty of man, and our dangerous
condition in this life, amidst so many snares
and temptations, and such strong and subtile
enemies.
2r%, As this sympathy works towards
particular Christians in their several condi-
tions, so, by the same reason, it acts, and
that more eminently, towards the Church,
and the public affairs that concern its good.
And this is it we find hath breathed forth
from the hearts of the saints, in former times,
in so many pathetical complaints and pray-
ers for Zion. Thus, David, in his saddest
times, when he might seem most disposable
to forget other things, and be wholly taken
up with lamenting his own fall, Psal. li. yet,
even there, he leaves not out the Church, ver.
17> In thy good pleasure do good to Zion.
And though his heart were broken all to
pieces, yet the very pieces cry no less for the
building of Jerusalem's wall, than for the
binding up and healing of itself; and in
that 122d Psalm, that seems to be the ex-
pression of his joy, being exalted to the
throne, and sitting peaceably on it ; yet he
still thus prays for the peace of Jerusa-
lem. And the penman of that 137th Psalm
makes it an execrable oversight to forget
Jerusalem, ver. 5, or to remember it coldly
or secondarily : no less will serve him than
to prefer it to his chief joy. Whatsoever
else is top or head of his joy, (as the word
is,) Jerusalem's welfare shall be its crown,
shall be set above it. And the prophet,
* Nil tarn spirifjalcm virum inclicat, quam poccati
alien! trnctatio.
whoever it was, that wrote that 102d Psalm,
and in it poured out that prayer from an
afflicted soul, comforts himself in this, that
Zion shall be favoured. My bones are con-
sumed, &c. " But it matters not what be.
comes of me ; let me languish and wither
away, provided Zion flourish ; though I feel
nothing but pains and troubles, yet thou
wilt arise and shew mercy to Zion : I am
content ; that satisfies me," Psal. cii. 13.
But where is now this spirit of high sym-
pathy with the Church ? Sure, if there were
of it in us, it is now a fit time to exert it.
If we be not altogether dead, sure we shall
be stirred with the voice of those late strokes
of God's hand, and be driven to more hum-
ble and earnest prayer by it. When will men
change their poor base grumblings about
their private concerns — Oh ! what shall I
do ? &c. into strong cries for the church of
God, and the public deliverance of all these
kingdoms from the raging sword ? But vile
selfishness undoes us, few or none looking
further ; if themselves and theirs might be
secured, how many would regard little what
became of the rest; as one said, When I
am dead, let the world be fired : But the
Christian mind is of a larger sphere, and
looks not only upon more than itself in pre-
sent, but even to after times and ages ; and
can rejoice in the good to come, when itself
shall not be here to partake of it : Thus, it
is more dilated, and liker unto God, and to
our Head Jesus Christ. The Lord, says
the prophet Isaiah, Ixiii. 9, in all his people's
affliction teas afflicted himself ; and Jesus
Christ accounts the sufferings of his body, the
Church, his own ; Saul, Saul, why perse-
cutest thou me ? Acts ix. 4. The heel was
trode upon on earth, and the Head crieth
from heaven, as sensible of it : and this, in
all our evils, especially our spiritual griefs, is
a high point of comfort to us, that our Lord
Jesus is not insensible of them. This em-
boldens us to complain ourselves, and to put
in our petitions for help to the throne of
Grace, through his hand ; knowing that
when he presents them, he will speak his
own sense of our condition, and move for us
as it were for himself, as we have it sweetly
expressed, Heb. iv. 15,16. Now as it is our
comfort, so it is our pattern.
Love as brethren.] Hence springs this
feeling we speak of: Love is the cause of
union, and union the cause of sympathy,
and of that unanimity mentioned before.
They that have the same spirit uniting and
animating them, cannot but have the same
mind, and the same feelings. And this
I spirit is derived from that Head Christ ; in
I whom Christians live, and move, and have
\ their being, their new and excellent being ;
and so living in him, they love him, and are
I one in him ; They are brethren, as here the
•• word is ; their fraternity holds in him. He
A COMMENTARY UPON
| CHAP. III.
is head cf it : the Jimt-born among many
brethren) Rom. viii. 29. Men are brethren
in two natural respects, their bodies being
made of the same earth, and their souls
breathed from the same God. But this
third fraternity, that is founded in Christ,
is far more excellent, and more firm than the
other two ; for, being one in him, they have
there taken in the other two ; for that in him
is our whole nature ; he is the man Christ
Jesus ; but to the advantage, and it is an
infinite one, being one in him, we are united
by the Divine nature in him, who is God
blessed for ever, Rom. ix. 5 ; and this is the
highest, certainly, and the strongest union
that can be imagined. Now, this is a great
mystery indeed, as the apostle says, Eph. v.
32, speaking of this same point, the union
of Christ and his Church ; whence their
union and communion one with another, that
make up that body, the Church, is derived.
In Christ, every believer is born of God ; is
his son ; and so they are not only brethren,
one with another, that are so born, but Christ
himself owns them as his brethren : " Both
he which sanctifies, and they who are sancti-
fied, are all of one ; for which cause he is
not ashamed to call them brethren," Hcb. ii.
11.
Sin broke all to pieces ; man fro;n God,
and one from another. Christ's work in the
world was union. To make up thess breaches
he came down, and begun the union, which
was his work, in the wonderful union made
in his person that was to work it, made God
and man one ; and, as the nature of man
was reconciled so, by what he performed,
the persons of men are united to God. Faith
makes them one with Christ, and he makes
them one with the Father ; and from these
results this oneness amongst themselves,
concentring and meeting in Jesus Christ ;
and, in the Father, through him, they are
made one together. And that this was his
great work, we may read in his prayer, John
xvii. where it is the burden and main strain,
the great request, he so reiterates, that they
may be one, at we are one, ver. 1 1 ; a high
comparison, such as man durst not name,
but after him that so warrants us: And
again, ver. 21, « that they all may be one,
as thou Father art in me, and I in thee,
that they also may be one in us ;" and so on.
So that certainly where this is, it is the
ground-work of another kind of friendship
and love than the world is acquainted with,
or is able to judge of, and hath more worth
in one drachm of it than all the quintessence
of civil or natural affection can amount to.
The friendships of the world, the best of
them, are hut tied with chains of glass ;
but this fraternal love of Christians is a
golden chain, both more precious, and more
strong and lasting ; the other are worthless
and brittle.
The Christian owes, and pays, a general
charity and good-will to all ; but peculiar
and intimate friendship he cannot have, but
with such as come within the compass of
this fraternal love, which, after a special
manner, flows from God and returns to him,
and abides in him, and shall remain unto
eternity.
Where this love is, and abounds, it will
banish far away all those dissensions and
bitternesses, and those frivolous mistakings,
which are so frequent amongst the most.
It will teach wisely and gently to admonish
one another, where it is needful : But, further
than that, it will pass by many offences and
failings ; it will cover a multitude of sins,
(iv. of this Epist. and v. 8,) and will very
much sweeten society, and make it truly
profitable ; therefore the Psalmist calls it
both good and pleasant that brethren dwell
together in unity, it perfumes all, as the
precious ointments of Aaron refresh all, like
the dew of Ilermon, Ps. cxxxiii. 2, 3.
But many that are called Christians are
not indeed of this brotherhood, and there-
fore no wonder they know not what this love
means, but are either of restless unquiet
spirits, biting and devouring one another,
as the apostle speaks, Gal, v. 15, or, at the
best, only civilly smooth and peaceable in
their carriage, but rather scorners than par-
takers of this spiritual love and fraternity
are strangers to Christ, not brought into
acquaintance and union with him, and there-
fore void of the life of grace, and the fruits
of it, whereof this is a chief one. Oh! how
few amongst multitudes that throng in, as
we do here together, are indeed partakers of
the glorious liberty of the sons of God,
Rom. viii. 21, or ambitious of that high and
happy estate !
As for you that know these things, and
have a portion in them, that have your com-
munion with the Father, andhis Son Jesus
Christ, (1 John i. 3,) I beseech you adorn
your holy profession, and testify yourselves
the disciples and the brethren of Jesus Christ
by this mutual love. Seek to understand
better what it is, and to know it more prac-
tically. Consider that source of love, that
" love that the Father hath bestowed upon
us, in this, that we should be called the sons
of God, 1 John iii. 1, and so be brethren,
and thence draw more of this sweet stream
of love. God is love, says the apostle, 1
John iv. 8 ; therefore, sure, where there is
most of God there is most of this divine
grace, this holy love. Look upon, and study
much, that infinite love of God and his Son
Jesus Christ towards us, He gave his only
begotten Son : The Son gave himself, he
sweetened his bitter cup with his transcendant
love ; and this he hath recommended to us,'
that even as he loved us, so should we love
one another, John xv. 12. We know we
VKR. JJ.J
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PET Eli.
159
cannot reach this highest pattern, that is
not meant ; but the more we look on it, the
higher we shall reach in this love, and shall
learn some measure of such love on earth as
is in heaven, and that which so begins here
shall be perfected there.
Be pitiful, be courteous.] The roots of
plants are hid under ground, so that them-
selves are not seen, but they appear in their
branches, and flowers, and fruits, which
argue there is a root and life in them ; thus
tne graces of the Spirit planted in the soul,
though themselves invisible, yet discover
their being and life in the tract of a Chris-
tian's life, his words, and actions, and the
frame of his carriage. Thus faith shows
that it lives, as the apostle St. James teach-
eth at large, James ii. 14, &c. ; and thus
love is a grace of so active a nature, that it
is still working, and yet never weary ; Your
labour of love, says the apostle, Heb. vi. 10.
It labours, but delight makes the hardest
labour sweet and easy ; and so proper is
action to it, that all action is null without it,
1 Cor. xiii. 1 — 3. Yea, it knits faith and
action together, and is the link that unites
them. Faith worketh, but it is by it, as
the apostle teaches us by love, Gal. v. 6 ;
so, then, where this root is, these fruits will
spring from it, and discover it, pity and
courtesy.
They are of a larger extent in their full
sphere than the preceding ; for, from a ge-
neral love due to all, they act towards all, to
men, or humanity, in the general : And this
not from a bare natural tenderness, which
softer complexions may have, nor from a
prudent moral consideration of their own
possible falling under the like or greater
calamities, but out of obedience to God, who
requires this mercifulness in all his children,
and cannot own them for his, unless in this
they resemble him. And it is indeed an
evidence of a truly Christian mind, to have
much of this pity to the miseries of all,
being rightly principled, and acting after a
pious and Christian manner towards the sick
and poor, of what condition soever; yea,
most pitying the spiritual misery of ungodly
men, their hardness of heart and unbelief,
and earnestly wishing their conversion ; not
repining at the long suffering of God, " as
if thou wouldst have the bridge cut because
thou art over," as St. Augustin speaks, but
longing rather to see that long -suffering
awl goodness -of God lead them to repent-
ance, Rom. ii. 4, being grieved to see men
ruining themselves, and diligently working
out their own destruction, going in any way
of zcickedness ; (as Solomon speaks of one
particularly,) " as an ox to the slaughter,
or a fool to the correction of the stocks,"
Prov. vii. 22. Certainly the ungodly man
' is an object of the highest pity.
But there is a special debt of this pity to
those that we love as brethren in the Lord
Jesus ; these are most closely linked by a
peculiar fraternal love. Their sufferings
and calamities will move the bowels that
have Christian affection within them. Nor
is it an empty helpless pity, but carries with
it the real communication of our help to our
utmost power. [siWxa'}/ ;£»*/.] Not only
bowels that are moved themselves with pity,
but that move their hand to succour : For
by this word, the natural affection of parents,
and the tenderer of them, the mothers, are
expressed ; who do not idly behold and be-
moan their children being sick or distressed,
but provide all possible help ; their bowels
are not only stirred, but dilated and enlarg-
ed towards them.
And, if our feeling bowels and helping
hand are due to all, and particularly to the
godly, and we ought to pay this debt in out-
ward distresses, how much more in their soul
afflictions ; the rather, because these are
most heavy in themselves, and least under-
stood, and therefore least regarded ; yea,
sometimes rendered yet heavier by natural
friends, possibly by their bitter scoffs and
taunts, or by their slighting, or, at best, by
their misapplying of proper helps and re-
medies, which, as unfit medicines, do rather
exasperate the disease : Therefore, they,
that do understand and can be sensible of
that kind of wound, ought so much the mere
to be tender and pitiful towards it, and to
deal mercifully and gently with it. It may
be, very weak things sometimes trouble a
weak Christian ; but there is in the spirit of
the godly a humble condescension learned
from Christ, who broke not the bruised
reed, nor quenched the smoaking Jlax,
Mat. xii. 20.
The least difficulties and scruples in. a
tender conscience should not be roughly en-
countered ; they are as a knot in a silken
thread, and require a gentle and wary hand
to loose them.
Now this tenderness of bowels and inclma
tion to pity all, especially Christians, and
them especially in their peculiar pressures,
is not a weakness, as some kind of spirits,
take it to be ; this, even naturally, is a ge-
nerous pity in the greatest spirits. Christian
pity is not womanish, yea, it is more than
manly, it is divine : There is of natural pity
most in the best and most ingenuous natures,
but where it is spiritual, it is a prime linea-
ment of the image of God ; and the more
absolute and disengaged it is in regard of
those towards whom it acts, the more it is
like unto God ; looking upon misery as a
sufficient incentive of pity and mercy, with-
out the ingredient of any other consideration.
It is merely a vulgar piece of goodness to be
helpful and bountiful to friends, or to such
as are within appearance of requital ; it is a
trading kind of commerce that : but pitv and
1GO
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. III.
bounty, which need no inducement, hut the
meeting of a fit object to work on, where it
can expect nothing, save only the privilege
of doing good, (which in itself is so sweet,)
is God-like indeed ; like Him who is rich
in bounty without any necessity, yea, or
possibility of return from us ; for we have
neither any thing to confer upon him, nor
hath he need of receiving any thing, who is
the spring of goodness and of being.
And, that we may the better understand
Him in this, he is pleased to express that
his merciful nature in our notion and lan-
guage, by bowels of mercy and pity, Isa.
liv. 7, 8 ; and the stirring and sounding
of them, Hos. xi. 8 ; and, Psal. ciii. 13, by
the pity of a father, and, Isa. xlix. 15, by
that of a mother ; as if nothing could be
tender and significant enough to express his
compassions. Hence our redemption, Isa.
Ixiii. 9, hence all our hopes of happiness.
The gracious Lord saw his poor creatures
undone by sin, and no power in heaven nor
in earth able to rescue them but his own
alone ; therefore his pity was moved, and
his hand answers his heart ; his own arm
brought salvation, he sent the Deliverer
out of Zion to turn away iniquity from
Jacob, Rom. xi. 26. And in all exigencies
of his children, he is overcome with their
complaints, and cannot hold out against their
meanings ; he may, as Joseph, seem strange
for a while, but cannot act that strangeness
long ; his heart moves and sounds to theirs,
gives the echo to their griefs and groans, as
they say of two strings that are perfect uni-
sons, touch the one, the other also sounds.
Surely I have heard Ephraim bemoaning
himself, &c. Is Ephraim a dear Son 9
&c. ver. xxxi. 19. Oh ! the unspeakable
privilege to have him for our Father, who
is the Father of mercies and compassions,
and those not barren fruitless pityings, for
he is withal the God of all consolations.
Do not think that he can shut out a bleed,
ing soul that comes to him, and refuse to
take, and to bind up, and heal, a broken
heart, that offers himself to him, puts itself in-
to his hand, and entreats his help. Doth he
require pity of us, and doth he give it to us,
and is it not infinitely more in himself ? All
that is in angels and men is but an insensi-
ble drop to that ocean.
Let us then consider both that we are
obliged to pity, especially our Christian
brethren, and to use all means for their help
within our reach ; to have bowels stirred
with the reports of such bloodsheds and
cruelties as come to our ears, and to bestir
ourselves, according to our places and power,
for them ; but sure all are to move this one
way, for their help, to run to the throne of
grace : If your bowels sound for your bre-
thren, let them sound that way for them, to
represent their estate to Him that is high-
est, both in pity and power ; for he expects
to be revnembranced by us ; he put that office
upon his people to be his recorders for Zion,
and they are traitors to it, that neglect the
discharge of that trust.
Courteous.} The former relates to the
afflictions of others, this to our whole car-
riage with them in any condition : And yet
there is a particular regard of it in communi-
cating good, supplying their wants, or com-
forting them that are distressed ; that it be
not done, or rather, I may say, undone in
doing it, with such supercilious roughness:,
venting itself either in looks or words, or
any way that sours it, and destroys the very
being of a benefit, and turns it rather into
an injury And, generally, the whole con-
versation of men is made unpleasant by cyni-
cal harshness and disdain.
This courteousness, which the apostle re-
commends, is not contrary to that evil only
in the superfice and outward behaviour : no,
religion doth not prescribe, nor is satisfied
with such as goes no deeper than words and
gestures, which sometimes is most contrary
to that singleness which religion owns.
These are perhaps the upper garments ol
malice, saluting him aloud in the morning,
whom they are undermining all the day.
Or sometimes, though more innocent, yet,
it may be, troublesome, merely by the vain
affectation and excess of it ; and even this
becomes not a wise man, much less a Chris,
tian : An over-study or acting of that is a
token of emptiness, and is below a solid
mind ; though they know such things, and
could out-do the studiers of it, yet they (as it
indeed deserves) do despise it. Nor is it that
graver and wiser way of external plausible
deportment that answers fully this word ; it
is the outer-half indeed ; but the thing is
A0p£s<ruv«] a radical sweetness in the
temper of the mind, that spreads itself into
a man's words and actions : And this not
merely natural, a gentle kind disposition,
which is indeed a natural advantage that
some have, but this is spiritual, from a new
nature descended from heaven, and so in its
original and nature it far excels the other,
supplies it where it is not in nature, and
doth not only increase it where it is, but ele-
vates it above itself, renews it, and sets a
more excellent stamp upon it. Religion is
in this mistaken sometimes, in that men
think it imprints an unkindly roughness and
austerity upon the mind and carriage. It
doth indeed bar and banish all vanity and
lightness, and all compliance and easy par»
taking with sin. Religion strains and quite
breaks that point of false and injurious
courtesy, to suffer thy brother's soul to run
the hazard of perishing, and to share of his
guiltiness, by not admonishing him after
that seasonable, and prudent, and gentle
manner, (for that indeed should be studied, 1
VER. 9.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
1C1
which becomes thee as a Christian, and that I graces :* Sometimes it seems to wrong
particular respective manner which becomes
thy station. These things rightly qualify-
ing it, it doth no wrong to good manners
and the courtesy here enjoined, but is truly
a part of it, by due admonitions and re-
proofs, to seek to reclaim the sinner ; for it
were the worst unkindness not to do it.
" Thou shall not hate thy brother ; thou
shalt in any wise rebuke thy brother, and
not suffer sin upon him," Lev. x'x. 17-
But that which is true lovingness of heart
and carriage, religion doth not only no way
prejudice, but you see requires it in the rule :
and where it is not wrought in the heart,
works and causes it there ; fetches out that
crookedness and harshness that is otherwise
invincible in some humours, * Isa. xi. 6,
Makes the wolf dwell with the lamb. This
Christians should study, and belie the pre-
judices of the world, that they take up
against the power of godliness ; should
study to be inwardly so minded, and of such
outward behaviour, as becomes that Spirit
of grace that dwells in them ; to endeavour
to gain those that are without by their kind
obliging conversation.
In some copies it
humbk : and indeed, as this is excellent in
itself, and a chief character of a Christian,
it agrees well with all those mentioned, and
carries along with it this inward and real,
not acted courteousness. Not to insist on it.
now, it gains at all hands, with God and
with men ; receives much grace from God,
and kills envy, and commands respect and
good will from men.
Those showers of
grace that slide off
from the lofty mountains, rest on the vallies,
and make them fruitful. He giveth grace
to the lately, Jam. iv. 6 ; loves to bestow it
where there is most room to receive it, and
most return of ingenuous and entire praises
upon the receipt : And such is the humble
heart ; and, truly, as much humility gains
much grace, so it grows by it.
It is one of the world's reproaches against
those that go beyond their size in religion,
that they are proud and self-conceited :
Christians, beware there be nothing in you
justifying this. Sure, they that have most
true grace are least guilty of it. Common
knowledge and gifts may piiff up, but grace
does not.
He whom the Lord loads most with his
richest gifts, stoops lowest, as pressed down
with the weight of them ; -j- the free love of
God humbles that heart most to which it is
most manifested.
And, towards men, it graces all grace and
a1.! gifts, and glorifies God, and teaches
others so to do. It is the preserver of
» Emollit mores, nee sinit esse feros'
f- I lie est qui superbire nescit cui Dem ostendit
n.isoricordiam suam.
them, t>y hiding them ; but indeed it is
their safety. Hezekiah, by a vain shewing
of his jewels and treasures, forfeited them
all, f 2 Kings xx. 12.
VKR. !). Not rendering evil for evil, or railing for
railing: but contrariwise blessing: knowing that
S; are thereunto called, that ye should inherit a
essing.
OPPOSITION helps grace both to more
strength and more lustre. When Christian
charity is not encountered with the world's
malignance, it hath an easier task ; but, as-
saulted and overcoming, it shines the
brighter, and rises higher : And thus it is
when it renders not evil for evil.
To repay good with evil, is, amongst
men, the top of iniquity ; yet this is our uni-
versal guiltiness towards God, he multiply-
ing mercies, and we vicing with multiplied
sins ; as the Lord complains of 1 srael, as
they were increased, so they sinned. The
lowest step of mutual good amongst men,
is, not to be bent to provoke others with in-
juries, and, being unoffended, to offend none.
But this, not to repay offences, nor render
evil for evil, is a Christian's rule ; and yet
further, to return good for evil, and bless-
ing for cursing, is not only counselled, (as
some vainly distinguish,) but commanded,
Matth. v. 41.
It is true, the most have no ambition for
this degree of goodness ; they aspire no
further than to do or say no evil unprovoked,
and think themselves sufficiently just- and
equitable, though they go no further : But
this is lame ; it is only half the rule. Thou
thinkest injury obliges thee, or if not so,
yet excuses thee to revenge, or at least dis-
obliges thee, unties thy engagement of wish-
ing and doing good : but these are all gross
practical errors. For,
1st, The second injury done, by way of
revenge, differs from the first that provoked
it, little or nothing, but only in point of
time i and certainly no one man's sin can
procure privilege to another to sin in that,
or the like kind. If another hath broken
the bonds xrf his allegiance and obedience
to God, and of charity to thee, yet thou art
not the less tied by the same bonds still.
Idly, By revenge of injuries thou usurp-
est upon God's prerogative, who is the aveng-
er, as the apostle teaches, Rom. xii. 19.
This doth not forbid either the magistrate's
sword for just punishment of offenders, or
the soldier's sword in a .ust war : but such
revenge as, without authority, or a lawful
call, the pride and perverseness of men do
multiply one against another : In which is
involved a presumtuous contempt of God,
and his supreme authority, or at least the un-
belief and neglect of it
* Consejvatrix virtutum.
\ Prodendo perdiclit.
1G2
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. in.
3dly, It cannot be genuine upright
goodness that hath its dependence upon the
goodness of others that are about us. They
say of the vain-glorious man, his virtue lieth
in the beholder's eye : And, if thy meekness
and charity be such as lieth in the good and
mild carriage of others towards thee, in their
hands and tongues, thou art not owner of it
intrinsically : Such quiet and calm, if none
provoke thee, is but an accidental uncertain
cessation of thy turbulent spirit unstirred ;
but move it, and it exerts itself according to
its nature, it sends up that mud that lay at
the bottom : Whereas true grace doth then
most manifest what it is, when those things
that are most contrary surround and assault it.
It cannot correspond and hold game with
injuries and railings ; it hath no faculty for
that, for answering evil with evil. A tongue
inured to graciousness, and mild speeches
and blessings, and a heart stored so within,
can vent no other, try and stir it as you will.
A Christian acts and speaks, not according
to what others are towards him, but accord-
ing to what he is through the grace and Spi-
rit of God in him. As they say, qmcquid re-
cipitur, recipitur ad modum recipients : the
same things are differently received, and work
differently, as the nature and way is of that
^hich receives them : A little spark blows
up one of a sulphureous temper ; and many
coals, greater injuries and reproaches, are
quenched and lose their force, being thrown
at another of a cool spirit, as the original
expression is, Prov. xvii. 27.
They that have malice, and bitterness,
and cursings within, though those sleep, it
may be, yet, awake them with the like, and
the provision comes forth out of the abun-
dance of the heart ; give them an ill word,
and they have another, or two for one, in
readiness for you ; where the soul is furnish-
ed witli spiritual blessings, there blessings
come forth, even in answer to reproaches and
indignities. The mouth of the wise is a
tree of life, says Solomon, Prov. x. 11, it
can bear no other fruit, but according to its
kind, and the nature of the root. An honest
spiritual heart, pluck at it who will, they can
pull no other fruit but such fruit. Love and
meekness lodge there : and therefore, who-
ever knocks, these make the answer.
Let the world account it a despicable sim-
plicity, seek you still more of that dove-like
spirit, the spirit of meekness and blessing. It
is a poor glory to vie in railings, to contest
in that faculty, or any kind of vindictive re-
turns of evil ; the most abject creatures have
abundance of that great spirit, as foolish
poor-spirited persons account it ; " but it is
the glory of man to pass by a transgression,"
Prov. xix. 11 ; this is the noblest victory,
and, to excite us to aspire after it, we have,
as we mentioned, the highest example. God
is our pattern in love and compassions ; we
are well warranted to endeavour to be like
him in this. Men esteem much more of
some other virtues that make more shew, and
trample upon these, love, and compassion,
and meekness: But though these violets
grow low, and are of a dark colour, yet they
are of a very sweet and diffusive smell
odoriferous graces ; and the Lord propounds
himself our example in them. " To love
them that hate you, and bless them that curse
you, it is to be truly the children of your
Father, your Father which is in heaven, for
he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on
the good," &c. Matt. v. 44, 45, and ver.
48 ; it is a kind of perfection, " Be ye there-
fore perfect, even as your Father which is in
heaven is perfect." Be you like it, howso-
ever men behave themselves, keep you your
course, and let your benign influence, as you
can, do good to all. And Jesus Christ sets
in himself these things before us, Learn of
me, not to heal the sick, or raise the dead,
but learn, for I am meek and lowly in heart,
Matt. xi. 29. And if you be his followers,
this is your way ; as the apostle here addeth,
hereunto are you called, and this is the end
of it, agreeable to the way, that you may
inherit a blessing.
\ KiSars; Sri\ [Knowing that.] Under-
standing aright the nature of your holy call-
ing, and then considering it wisely, and con-
forming to it.
They that have nothing beyond an exter.
nal calling and profession of Christianity,
are wholly blind in this point, and do not
think what this imports, a Christian. Could
they be drawn to this, it were much, it were
indeed all, to know to what they are called,
and to answer to it, to walk like it : But as
one calls a certain sort of lawyers, indoctum
doctorum genus, we may call the most, an
unchristian kind of Christians.
Yea, even they that are real partakers of this
spiritual and effectual call, yet are much to seek
in this ; whereas they should be often Viewing
their rule, and laying it to their life, their
hearts, and words, and actions, and squaring
all these by it ; should be often asking them-
selves, Suits this my calling ? Is this like a
Christian ? It is a main point in any civil
station, to have a suitable convenient car-
riage to a man's station and condition, that
his actions become him :* But how many
incongruities and solecisms do we commit,
forgetting ourselves, who we are, and what
we are called to ; to what as our duty, and
to what as our portion and inheritance ? And
these, indeed, agree together, we are called
to an undejiled, (chap. i. of this epistle, ver.
4.) a holy inheritance, and therefore likewise
to be holy in our way to it, for that contains
all. We are called to a better estate at home,
and called to be fitted for it, while we are
here; to an inheritance of light, Col. i. 12,
* Caput artis est dcccre quod facias.
VER. 0.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
Ittt
and therefore to waM as children of light,
Eph. v. 8, and so here to blessing, as our
inheritance, and to blessing, as our duty ;
for this [?/; TO-JTO, thereunto} relates to both,
looks back to the one, and forward to the
other, tlie way and the end, both blessing.
The fulness of this inheritance is reserved
till v.-e come to that land where it lieth ; there
it abideth us : But the earnests of that ful-
ness of blea&ing are bestowed on us here,
spiritual blessings in heavenly places in
Christ, Eph. i. 3 ; they descend from those
heavenly places upon the heart, that precious
name of our Lord Jesus poured on our
hearts. If we be indeed interested in him,
(as we pretend), and we have peace with
God through our Lord Jesus Christ, we are
put in possession of that blessing of forgive-
ness of sin, and are in terms of love and
asiity with the Father ; being reconciled by
the blood of his Son, and then blessed with
the anointing of the Spirit, the graces infused
from heaven. Now all these do so cure the
bitter accursed distempers of our natural
heait, and so perfume it, that it cannot well
breathe any thing but sweetness and blessing
towards others ; being itself thus blessed of
the Lord, it echoes blessing both to God
and men, echoes to his blessing of it ; and
its words and whole carriage are as a smell
of a field that the Lord hath blessed, as old
Isaac said of his son's garments, Gen. xxvii.
27. The Lord having spoken pardon to a
soul, and instead of the curse due to sin
blessed it with a title to glory, it easily and
readily speaks pardon, and not only pardon,
but blessing also even to these that outrage it
most, and deserve worst of it ; reflecting still
on that, " Oh ! what deserved I at my Lord's
hands ! When so many talents are forgiven
vie, shall I stick At for giving a few pence ?"
And then called to inherit a blessing :
So is every believer an heir of blessing ;
and not only are the spiritual blessings he
hath received, but even his largeness of bless-
ing others is a pledge to him, an evidence o(
that heirship. As those that are bent to
cursing, though provoked, yet may look upon
that as a sad mark, that they are heirs oi
a curse, PsaL cix. 17, 18, " As he loved
cursing, so let it come unto him, into
his bowels like water, and like oil unto his
bones." And shall they not that delight
in cursing, have then enough of it, when they
shall hear that doleful word, Go, ye cursed,
&c. ? And on the other side, as for the sons
of blessing, that spared not to any, the bless-
ing they are heirs to, is blessedness itself, and
they are to be entered into it by that joyful
speech, Come, ye blessed of my Father, &c.
Men can but bless one another in good
vishes, and the Lord in praises, and ap-
plauding to his blessedness ; but the Lord's
blessing is really making blessed ; an opera-
tive word, which brings the thing with it
Inherit a blessing.} Not called to be ex-
empted from troubles and injuries here, and ta
»e extolled and favoured by the world ; but,
on the contrary, rather to suffer the utmost of
their malice, and to be the mark of their
arrows, of wrongs, and scoffs, and reproach-
es. But it matters not, this weighs down
all, you are called to inherit a blessing,
which all their cursings and hatred cannot
deprive you of. For as this inheriting of
blessing binds on the duty of blessing others
upon a Christian, so it encourages to go
through the hardest contrary measure they
receive from the world. If the world should
bless you, and applaud you never so loudly,
yet their blessings cannot be called an in-
heritance ; they fly away, and die out hi the
air, have no substance at all, much less that
endurance that may make the main inheri-
tance.* And more generally, is there any
thing here that deserves to be so called ? The
surest inheritances are not more than for
term of life to any one man ; their abiding
is for others that succeed, but he removes ;f
and when a man is to remove from all he hath
possessed and rejoiced inhere, then fool indeed
if nothing be provided for the longer (O !
how much longer) abode he must make
elsewhere. Will he not then bewail his
madness, that he was hunting a shadow
all his life-time, and may be turned out of
all his quiet possessions and easy dwelling
before that ? And in these times we may
the more readily think of this : But at the
utmost, at night, when he should be for
most rest, when that sad night comes after
this day of fairest prosperity, the unbelieving,
unrepenting sinner lies down in sorrow, in a
woeful bed ; then must he, whether he will
or no, enter to the possession of this inheri-
tance of everlasting burnings. He hath an
inheritance indeed, but he had better want
it, and himself too be turned to nothing.
Do you believe there are treasures, that
neither thief breaks into, nor is there any
inward moth to corrupt them, Matt. vi. 20 ;
an inheritance, that, though the whole world
be turned upside down, is in no hazard
of a touch of damage ; a kingdom, tfyat not
only cannot fall, but cannot be shaken ?
Heb. xii. 28. O ! be wise, and consider
your latter end, and whatsoever you do,
look after this blessed inheritance. Seek to
have the right to it in Jesus Christ, and the
evidences and seals of it from his Spirit ;
and if it be so with you, your hearts will
be upon it, and your lives will be like it.
VEIL 10. For he that will love life, and see good
days, let him refrain his tongue from evil, and hi*
lips that they speak no guile.
THE rich bounty of God diffuses itseU
* Qui thesaurum tuum alieno in ore constitmi,
ignoras quod area ista non clauditur ?
f Si hsec sunt ve>tra, tollite ea vobiscum. S. B s ft*
A COMMENTARY UPON
LCHAI- in.
throughout the world upon all ; yet there
is a select number that hath peculiar bless-
ings of his right hand, which the rest of
the world share not in ; and even as to com-
mon blessings, they are differenced by a pe-
culiar title to them, and sweetness in them :
their blessings are blessings indeed, and en-
tirely so outside and inside, and more so
within than they appear without ; the Lord
himself is their portion, and they are his.
This is their blessedness, which in a low
estate they can challenge, and so outvie all
the painted prosperity of the world. Some
kind of blessings do abundantly run over upon
others ; but the cup of blessings belongs
unto the godly by a new right from heaven,
graciously conferred upon them. Others
are sent away with gifts, (as they apply
that passage, Gen. xxv. '5, G,) but the in-
heritance is Isaac's ; they are called to be the
sons of God. and are like him, as his chil-
dren, in goodness and blessings. The in-
heritance of blessing is theirs alone, called,
says the apostle, to inherit a blessing ; and
all the promises in the- great charter of both
Testaments run in that appropriating style,
they are entailed to them, as the only heirs.
Thus, this is fitly translated, from the one
Testament to the other, by the apostle for
his present purpose, He that will love, fyc.
Psal. xxxiv. 13, 14.
Consider, 1. The qualification required.
2. The blessing annexed and ascertained to
it ; the scope being to recommend a rule
so exact, and for that purpose to propound a
good so important and desirable, as a suf-
ficient attractive to study, and conform to
that rule.
The rule is, all of it, one straight line,
running through the whole track of a godly
man's life ; yet you see clearly that it is not
cut asunder indeed, but only marked into
four ; whereof the two latter parcels are some-
what longer, more generally reaching a man's
ways ; the two former particularly regulat-
ing the tongue.
In the ten words of the law that God de-
livered in so singular a manner, both by
word , and writ, from his own mouth and
hand, there be two, that, if not wholly, yet
most especially and most expressly concern
the tongue, as a very considerable, though
a small part of man ; and of these four words,
here are two bestowed on it.
The apostle St. James is large in this,
teaching the great concernment of this point,
It is a little member (says he), but boast-
eth great things, Jam. iii. 5, it needs a
strong bridle : And the bridling of it makes
much for the ruling the whole course of a
man's life, as he there applies the resem-
blance ; yea, he gives the skill of this as the
very character of perfection. And if we con-
sider it, it must indeed be of very great con-
sequence how we use the tongue, it being
the main outlet of the thoughts of the heart,
and the mean of society amongst men in all
affairs civil and spiritual ; by which men
give birth to the conceptions of their own
minds, and seek to beget the like in the
minds of others. The bit that is here made
for men's mouths, hath these two halves that
make it up : 1 . To refrain from open evil
speaking ; 2. From double and guileful
speaking.
From evil.] This is a large field, the evil
of the tongue : But I give it too narrow a
name ; we have good warrant to give it a
much larger ; a whole universe, a world oj
iniquity, Jam. iii. 6 ; a vast bulk of evils,
and great is the variety of them, as of coun-
tries on the earth, or creatures in the world ;
and multitudes of such are venomous, and
full of deadly poison, and not a few, mon-
sters, new productions of wickedness, sem-
per aliquid novi, as they say of Africa.
There be in the daily discourses of the
greatest part of men many things that be-
long to this ivorld of evil, and yet pass un-
suspected : so that we do not think them to
be within its compass ; not using due dili-
gence and exactness in our discoveries of
the several parts of it, although it is all with-
in ourselves, yea, within a small part of our-
selves, our tongues.
It were too quick a fancy to think to travel
over this world of iniquity, the whole circuit
of it, in an hour, yea, or so much as to aim
exactly at all the parts that can be taken of
it in the smallest map : But some of the
chief we would particularly take notice of,
in the several four parts of it ; for it will
without constraint hold resemblance in that
division with the other, the habitable world.
1. Profane speech, that which is grossly
and manifestly wicked ; and in that part
lie, 1. Impious speeches, that directly reflect
upon the glory and name of God ; blasphe-
mies, and oaths and cursings, of which there
is so great, so lamentable abundance amongst
us ; the whole land overspread and defiled
with it ; the common noise that meets a
man, in streets and houses, and almost in all
places where he comes : And to these join
those that are not uncommon amongst us
neither, scoffs and mocking at religion, the
power and strictness of it, not only by the
grosser sort, but by pretenders to some kind
of goodness ; for they that have attained to
a self-pleasing pitch of civility, or formal
religion, have usually that point of presump-
tion with it, that they make their own size
the model and rule to examine all by. What
is below it, they condemn indeed as profane ;
but what is beyond it, they account need-
less and affected preciseness : And therefore
are as ready as others to let fly invectives or
bitter taunts against it, which are the keen
and poisoned shafts of the tongue, and a per-
secution that shall be called to a strict ac-
VER. 10.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEK.
Ifi5
count. 2. Impure or filthy speaking, which
either pollutes or offends the hearers, and
is the noisome breath of a rotten polluted
heart.
2. Consider next, as another grand part
of the tongue, uncharitable speeches, tend-
ing to the defaming and disgrace of others ;
and these are likewise of two sorts ; 1. Open
railing and reproaches. 2. Secret slander
and detraction. The former is unjust and
cruel, but it is somewhat the less danger-
ous, because open. It is a fight in plain
field ; but, truly, it is no piece of a Chris-
tian's warfar^ to encounter it in the same
kind. The sons of peace are not for those
tongue combats ; they are often, no doubt,
set upon so, but they have another abler way
of overcoming it than by the use of the
same weapon ; for they break and blunt the
point of ill reproaches by meekness, and
triumph over cursings witli more abundant
blessing, as is enjoined in the former words,
which are seconded with these out of Psal.
xxxiv. 13, 14. But they that enter the lists
in this kind, and are provided one for ano-
ther with enraged minds, are usually not un-
provided of weapons, but lay hold on any
thing that comes next,* as your drunkards
in their quarrels, in their cups and pots, if
they have any other great reproach, they lay
about them with that, as their sword ; but
if they want that, true or untrue, pertinent
or impertinent, all is one, they cast out any
revilings that come next to hand. But there
is not only wickedness, but something of
baseness, in these kinds of conflicts, that
makes them more abound amongst the baser
sort, and not so frequent with such as are
but of a more civil breeding and quality than
the vulgar.
But the other, of detraction, is more uni-
versal amongst all sorts, as being a far easier
way of mischief in this kind, and of better
conveyance. Railings cry out the matter
openly, but detraction works all by surprises
and stratagems, and mines under ground,
and therefore is much more pernicious. The
former are, as the arrows that fly by day,
but this, as the pestilence that walketh in
darkness, as these two are mentioned to-
gether in Psal. xci. 5, 6 ; it spreads and in-
fects secretly and insensibly, is not felt but
in the effects of it ; and ft works either by
calumnies altogether forged and untrue, of
which malice is inventive, or by the advan-
tage of real faults, of which it is very dis-
cerning, and these are stretched and aggra-
vated to the utmost. It is not expressible
how deep a wound a tongue sharpened to
this work will give, with a very little word
and little noise, as a razor, as it is called
in Psal. lii. 2, that with a small touch cuts
very deep, taking things by the worst handle,
whereas charity will try about all ways for
* Furor arma rainlstr.it.
a good acceptation and sense of things, and
takes all by the best. This pest is still kill-
ing some, almost in all companies ; it cast-
eth down many wounded, as it is said of
the strange woman, Prov. vii. 26, and they
convey it under fair prefacing of commenda-
tion ; so giving them poison and wine, both
that it may pass the better and penetrate the
more. This is a great sin, that the Lord
ranks with the first, when he sets them in
order against a man, Psal. 1. 20, Thou sit-
test and speakest against thy brother.
3. Va in fruitless speeches are an evil of
the tongue ; not only those that they call
harmless lies, which some poor people take
a pleasure in, and trade much in, light buf-
fooneries and foolish jestings, but the great-
est part of those discourses which men ac-
count the blameless entertainment one of
another, come within the compass of this
evil, frothy, unsavoury stuff, tending to no
purpose nor good at all ; effectless words,
yav] as our Saviour speaks, Matt. xii.
36, of which we must render account in
the day of judgment, for that very reason.
They are in this world of evil, in the
tongue ; if no other way ill, yet ill they are,
as the Arabian deserts and barren sands, be-
cause they are fruitless.
5. Doubleness and guile, so great apart,
that it is here particularly named apart,
though the evil of it is less known and dis-
cerned ; and so there is in it, as I may say,
much terra incognita : Yet it is of a very
large compass ; we may confidently say, as
large as all the other three together. What
of men's speech is not manifestly evil in any
of the other kinds, is the most of it naught
this way : speech, good to appearance, plau-
sible and fair, but not upright'; not silver,
but silver dross, as Solomon calls it, burn-
ing lips, &c. Prov. xxvi. 23 : Each almost,
some way or other, speaking falsehood and
deceit to his neighbour, and daring to act
this faculty with God in his services, and
our protestations of obedience to him. Re-
ligious speeches are abused by some in hy-
pocrisy, as holy vestments, for a mask or dis-
guise, doing nothing but compassing him
about with lies, as he complains of Ephraim,
Hos. xi. 12 ; deceiving indeed ourselves,
while we think to deceive him who cannot
be deceived, and will not be mocked, Psal.
xvii. 1, and Gal. vi. 7. He saw through
the disguises and hypocrisy of his- own peo-
ple, when they came to inquire at him, and
yet still entertained their heart-idols, as he
tells the prophet, Ezek. xiv. 3.
The sins of each of us, would we enter
into a strict account of ourselves, would be
found to arise to a great sum in this kind ;
and they that do put themselves upon the
work of self-trial, find, no doubt, abundant
matter of deepest humbling, though they
had no more, even in the sin of their lips,
166
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. m.
and are by it often astonished at the Lord's
patience, considering his holiness ; as Isaiah
cried out, Isa. vi. 5, having seen the Lord in
a glorious vision, this, in particular, falls
upon his thoughts concerning himself and
the people, polluted lips, woe is me, &c.
And, indeed, it is a thing the godly mind
cannot be satisfied with, to make mention
of the Lord, till they he touched with a
coal from the heavenly fire of the altar ;
and they especially that are called to be the
Lord's messengers, will say as St. Bernard,
" Had the prophet need of a coal to unpollute
his lips, then do the ministers require totum
qlobum igneum, a whole globe of fire." Go
through the land, and see if the sins of this
kind will not take up much of the bill against
us, which the Lord seems now to have taken
into his hands and to be reading, and about
to take order with it, because we will not.
Would we set ourselves to read it, he would
let it fall. Is it not because of oaths that
the land mourns, or I am sure, hath now
high cause to mourn ? Mockings at the
power of godliness fly thick in most congre-
gations and societies. And, what is there
to be found almost but mutual detraction
and supplanting s of the good name of ano-
ther, and tongues taught to speak lies, Jer.
ix, 4, 5, and that frame, or sew, and weave
together deceits, as it is in Psal. 1. 19 ?
And even the godly, as they may be subject
to other sins, so may they be under some
tlegree of this : and too many are very much
subject, by reason of their unwatchfulness,
and not staying themselves in this point,
though not to profane, yet to vain, and, it
may be, to detractive speeches ; sometimes
possibly not with malicious intention, but
out of an inadvertence of this evil, readier to
stick on the failings of men, and it may be
of other Christians, than to consider, anr
commend, and follow, what is laudable in
them, and it may be,in their best discourses,
not endeavouring to have hearts in a becom-
ing manner, purged from all guile and self-
ends. Oh ! it is a thing needs much dili-
gent study, and is worth it all, to be tho-
roughly sincere and unfeigned in all, anc
particularly in those things. Our Saviour's
innocence is expressed so, In his mouth was
found no guile, chap. ii. of this Epist. v. 22
But, to add something for remedy o
those evils, in some part discovered ; for to
vanquish the world of evils is a great con-
quest :
1. It must begin at the heart, otherwise
it will be but a mountebank cure, a false im-
agined conquest. The weights and wheels
are there, and the clock strikes according to
their motion. Even he that speaks contrary
to what is within him, guilefully contrary to
his inward conviction and knowledge, yet
speaks conformably to what is within him,
in the temper and frame of his heart, which
s double, a heart and a heart, as the Psal-
mist hath it, (Psal. xii. 2.) A guileful
leart makes a guileful tongue and lips. It
s the work-house, where is the forge of de«
:eits and slanders, and other evil speakings ;
and the tongue is only the outer shop where
they are vended, and the lips the door of it ;
so then such ware as is made within, such
and no other can be set out. From evil
:houghts, evil-speakings ; from a profane
leart, profane words ; and from a malicious
heart, bitter or calumnious words ; and from
a deceitful heart, guileful words, well var-
nished, but lined with rottenness. And so
in the general, from the abundance of the
heart the mouth speaketh, as our Saviour
teaches, Matt. xii. 34. That which the
heart is full of, runs over by the tongue : If
the heart be full of God, the tongue will
delight to speak of him ; much of heavenly
things within will sweetly breathe forth some-
thing of their smell by the mouth ; and if
nothing but earth' is there, all that man's
discourse will have an earthly smell ; if no-
thing but wind, vanity, and folly, the speech
will be airy, and vain, and purposeless. Com-
pare Psal. xxxvii. 30, 31, with Psal. xl.
8, 9, Thy law, says David, is in my heart,
or, as the Hebrew phrase is, in the midst of
my bowels ; and that, as from the centre,
sends forth the lines and rays of suitable
words, and / will not, cannot refrain, as
there it is added, / have preached righteous-
ness : lo, I have not refrained ; so no more
can the evil heart refrain the tongue from
evil, as is here directed. The tongue of the
righteous, says Solomon, is as fined silver,
but the heart of the wicked is little worth,
Prov. x. 20. It makes the antithesis in the
root : his heart is little worth, and there-
fore his tongue has no silver in it : He mat-
he worth thousands, (as we speak,) that is
indeed in his chests or lands, and yet him-
self, his heart, and all the thoughts of it, not
worth a penny.
If thou art inured to oaths or cursing, in
any kind or fashion of it, taking the great
name of God anywise in vain, do not favour
thyself in it as a small offence. To excuse
it by custom, is to wash thyself with ink ;
and to accuse thyself deeper, that thou ar.
long practised in that sin. But if thou
wouldest indeed be delivered from it, think
not that a slight dislike of it, (when reprov-
ed) will do. Seek for a due knowledge of
the majesty of God, and thence a deep re-
verence of him in thy heart ; and that will
certainly help that habituated evil of thy
tongue. It will quite alter that bias that
the custom thou speakest of hath given it ;
will cast it in a new mould, and teach it a
new language ; will turn thy regardless abuse
of that name, by vain oaths and asseverations,
into a holy frequent use of it in prayers aud
praises. Thou wilt not then dare to dis-
VER. 10']
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
107
honour that blessed name, that saints and
angels bless and adore, but will set in with
them to bless it.
None that know the weight of it will dally
with it and lightly lift it up, (as that word
of taking in vain in the command signifies :)
they that do continue to lift it up in vain,
as it were, to sport themselves with it, will
find the weight of it falling back upon them,
and crushing them to pieces.
In like manner, a purified heart will un-
teach the tongue all filthy impure speeches,
and will give it a holy strain ; and the spirit
of charity and humility will banish that mis-
chievous humour, that sits so deep in the
most, of reproaching and disgracing others
in any kind, either openly or secretly. For
it is wicked self-love, and pride of heart,
whence those do spring, searching and dis-
closing the failings of others, on which love
will rather cast a mantle to hide them.
It is an argument of a candid ingenuous
mind, to delight in the good name and com-
mendation of others ; to pass by their defects,
and take notice of their virtues ; and to
speak and hear of those willingly, and not
endure either to speak or hear of the other :
for in this indeed you may be little less guilty
than the evil speaker, in taking pleasure in
it though you speak it not. And this is a
piece of men's natural perverseness, to drink
in tales and calumnies ;* and he that doth
this will readily, from the delight he hath
in hearing, slide insensibly into the humour
of evil-speaking. It is strange how the mos
dispense with themselves in this point, am
that in no societies almost shall we find a
hatred of this ill, but rather some tokens o
taking pleasure in it ; and until a Christian
set himself to an inward watchfulness ove:
his heart, not suffering in it any thought tha
is uncharitable, or vain self-esteem, upon tb
sight of others' frailties, he will still be sub
ject to somewhat of this, in the tongue, o
the ear at least. For the evil of guile in the
tongue, a sincere heart, truth in the inwari
parts, powerfully redresses ; therefore, Psal
xv. 2, it is expressed, that speaketh the truth
from his heart, and it is added, backbiteth
not with his tongue, nor taketh up a re
proach against his neighbour ; thence i
flows. Seek much after this, to speak nothinj
with God, nor men, but what is the sense
of a single unfeigned heart. O sweet truth !
excellent but rare sincerity ! He that loves
that truth within alone can work it there ;
seek it of Him.
2dly, Be cautious in the choice of your
society. Sit not with vain persons, Psal.
xxvi. 4, whose tongues have nothing else to
utter but impurity, or malice, or folly. Men
readily learn the dialect and tone of the people
amongst whom they live. If you sit down
in the chair of the scorners, if you take a
. * Obtrectatio et livqr primis auribus accipumtur.
eat with them, you shall quickly take a share
)f their diet with them ; and sitting amongst
hem, take your turn in time of speaking with
hem in their own language : But frequent
he company of grave and godly persons, in
whose hearts and lips, piety, and love, and
wisdom, are set, and it is the way to learn it.
3dly, Use a little of the bridle in the
[uantity of speech,* incline a little rather to
sparing than lavishing, for in many words
here wants not sin. That flux of the
;ongue, that prating and babbling disease, is
very common ; and hence so many imperti-
nencies, yea, so many of these worse ills in
their discourses, whispering about, and in-
quiring, and censuring this and that. A
childish delight ! and yet most men carry it
with them all along, to speak of persons and
things not concerning us.-|- And this draws
men to speak many things that agree not
with the rules of wisdom, and charity, and
sincerity. He that refraineth his lips is
wise, saith Solomon, Prov. x. 19. A ves-
sel without a cover cannot escape unclean-
ness ; and much might be avoided by a little
refraining of this ; much of the infection and
sin that is occasioned by many babblings
that are usual ; and were it no worse, is it
not a sufficient evil, that they waste away
that time, precious time, that cannot be re-
covered, that the most just or most thankful
man in the world cannot restore ? He thaf
spares speech, favours his tongue indeed,
as the Latin phrase is [favere lingu<e,~\ not
he that looses the reins and lets it run. He
may ponder and pre-examine what he utters,
whether it be profitable and seasonable or
no ; and so the tongue of the just is as fined
silver, Prov. x. 20 ; it is refined in the wise
forethought and pondering of the heart, so
is his advice, Sis ad limam priusquam se-
mel ad linguam. Even to utter knowledge
and wise things profusely holds not of wis-
dom ; and a little usually makes most noise,
as the Hebrew proverb is, A penny in an
earthen pot keeps a great sound and tink-
ling.^ Certainly it is the way to have
much inward peace, to be wary in this point.
Men think to have solace by much free un-
bounded discourse with others, and when
they have done they find it otherwise, and
sometimes contrary. He is wise that hath
learned to speak little with others, and much
with himself, and with God. How much
might be gained for our souls, if we would
make a right use of this silence ! So David,
dumb to men, found his tongue to God,
Psal. xxxviii. 13, 15. A spiritually mind-
ed man is quickly weary of other discourse,
but of that which he loves, and wherewith
* Xa/j); TO T* lift lit '.
t S: -.tcr in lagena bit bis clamat.
xai TO, xcciaicc.
JStf
his affection is possessed and taken up :
Grave astimant qulcquid 'Mud non sonat
quod intus amant. And, by experience, a
Christian will find it, that when the Lord is
pleased to shew him most favour in prayer,
or other spiritual exercise, how unsavoury it
makes other discourses after it ; as they that
have tasted something singularly sweet,
think other things, that are less sweet, al-
together tasteless and unpleasant.
4thly, In the use of the tongue, when
thou dost speak, divert it from evil and
guile, by a habit of, and delight in, profit-
able and gracious discourse ; thus St. Paul
makes the opposition, Eph. iv. 29. Let
there be no rotten communication, (satt^lc
Xayos) and yet urges not total silence nei-
ther ; but enjoins such speech " as may
edify and administer grace to the hearers."
Now, in this we should consider, to the
end such discourses may be more fruitful,
both what is the true end of them, and the
right means suiting it. They are not only,
nor principally, for the learning of some new
things, or the canvassing of debated ques-
tions, but their chief good is the warning of
the heart ; stirring up in it love to God, and
remembrance of our present and after estate ;
our mortality and immortality, and extolling
the ways of holiness, and the promises and
comforts of the gospel, and the excellency of
Jesus Christ ; and in these sometimes one
particular, sometimes another, as our parti-
cular condition requires, or any occasion
makes them pertinent. Therefore, in these
discourses, seek not so much either to vent
thy knowledge, or to increase it, as to know
more spiritually and effectually what thou
dost know. And, in this way, those mean
despised truths, that each one thinks they
are sufficiently seen in, will have a new sweet-
ness and use in them, which thou didst not
so well perceive before, for these flowers can-
not be sucked dry, and in this humble sin-
cere way, thou shall grow in grace and in
knowledge too.
There is no sweeter entertainment than
for travellers to be remembering their coun-
try ; their blessed home, and the happiness
abiding them there, and refreshing and en-
couraging one another in the hopes of it ;
strengthening their hearts against all the
hard encounters and difficulties in the way ;
often overlooking this moment, and helping
eacli other to higher apprehensions of that
vision of God, which we expect.
And are not such discourses much more
worthy the choosing, than the base trash we
usually fill one another's ears withal ? were
our tongues given to us to exchange folly
and sin ? or were they not framed for the
glorifying of God, and therefore are called
our glory .« Some take it for the soul ; but
they must be one in this, and then indeed
are both our tongues and souls truly our
[CHAP. in.
glory, when they are busied in exalting his :
and are tuned together to that, " That my
glory may sing praise to thee, and not be
silent," Psal. xxx. 12. Instead of calum-
nies, and lies, and vanities, that are the car-
rion which base minds, like flies, feed on,
to delight in divine things, and extolling of
God, is for a man to eat angels'1 food. An
excellent task for the tongue that David
chooseth, Psal. xxxv. 28, " And my tongue
shall speak of thy righteousness, and of thy
praise, all the day long." Were the day
ten in one, no vacant room for any unholy,
or offensive, or feigned speech. And they
lose not, who love to speak praise to him,
for he loves to speak peace to them ; and
instead of the world's vain-tongue liberty,
to have such intercourse and discourse is no
sad melancholy life, as the world mistakes it.
VER. 11. Let him eschew evil, and do good; let
him seek peace, and ensue it.
THIS is a full and complete rule ; but
this is our miserable folly, to mistake so far,
as to embrace evil in the notion of good ;
and, not only contrary to the nature of the
thing, but contrary to our own experience,
still to be pursuing that which is still flying
farther off from us, catching at a vanishing
shadow of delight, with nothing to fasten
upon but real guiltiness and misery. Childish
minds ! we have been so often gulled, and
yet never grow wiser ; still bewitched and
deluded with dreams ; a deceived heart (a
mocked or deluded heart) hath turned him
aside, Isa. xliv. 20, &c. When we think
we arc surest, have that hand that nolds
fastest, our right hand, upon some good, and
now sure we are sped ; even then it proves a
lie in our right hand, slips through as a
handful of air, and proves nothing ; promises
fair, but doth but mock us, (as the same
word is used by Jacob, Gen. xxxi. 7> ex-
pressing the unfaithfulness of his uncle that
changed his wages so often,) but still we
foolishly and madly trust it. When it
makes so gross a lie, that we might easily, if
we took it to the light, see through it, being
a lie so often discovered, and of known false-
hood ; yet some new dream or disguise
makes it pass with us again, and we go
round in that mill, having our eyes put out,
(as Samson,) and still we are where we were,
engaged in perpetual fruitless toil. Strange !
that the base deceitful lusts of sin should
still keep their credit with us ! but the beast
hath a false prophet at his side, Kev. xix.
20, to commend him, and set him off with
new inventions, and causes us to err by his
lies, as it is said of the false prophets, Jer.
xxiii. 32. But evil it is still, not only void
of all good, but the very deformity and de-
basement of the soul; defacing in it the di-
vine image of its Maker,- and impressing on
it the vile image of Satan, and then, fur-
VKP.. 11.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
Hi'J
ther, it is attended with shame and sorrow,
even at the very best ; it is a solving of the
wind, there is no solid good in it, and with-
al a reaping of the whirlwind, vexations,
and horrors, IIos. viii. 7- They that know
it in the sense of this after- view, attended
with the wrath of an offended God, ask them
what they think of it : if they would not in
those thoughts rather choose any trouble or
pain, though ever so great, than willingly to
adventure on the ways of sin.
Obedience is that good, that beauty, that
comeliness of the soul, that conformity with
the holy will of God that hath peace and
sweetness in it ; the hardest of it is truly
delightful even at present, and hereafter it
shall fully be so. Would we learn to con-
sider it thus, to know sin to be the greatest
evil, and the holy will of God the highest
good, it would be easy to persuade and pre-
vail with men to comply with this advice, to
eschew the one, and do the other.
These do not only reach the actions, but
require an intrinsical aversion of the heart
from sin, and a propension to holiness and
the love of it.
Eschew.] The very motion and bias of
the soul must be turned from sin, and car-
ried towards God. And this is principally
to be considered by us, and inquired after
within us ; an abhorrence of that which is
tvil, as the scripture speaks, Rom. xii. 9 ;
not simple forbearing, but hating and loath-
ing it, and this springing from the love of
God, Ye that love the Lord, hate evil, Psal.
xcvii. 10 ; you will do so, cannot choose
but do so, and so may know that love to
Him to be upright and true.
And where this is, the avoidance of sin,
and walking in holiness, or doing good, will
be, 1. More constant, not wavering with the
variation of outward circumstances of occa-
. sion, or society, or secrecy ; but going on in
its natural course, as the sun is as far from
the earth, and goes as fast, under a cloud as
when it is in our sight ; and goes cheerful-
ly, because from a natural principle ; re-
joiceth as a strong man to run, Psal. xix ;
such is the obedience of a renewed mind.
And, 2. More universal, as proceeding from
an abhorrence of all sin ; as natural antipa-
thies are against the whole kind of any thing,
3. More exact, keeping afar off from the
very appearances of sin, and from all the in-
ducements and steps towards it ; and this is
the true way of eschewing it.
Not a little time of constrained forbear-
ance during a night, or the day of par-
ticipating of the communion, or a little time
before, and some few days after such ser.
vices ; for thus, with the most, sin is not
dispossessed and cast out, but retires inward
and lurks in the heart. Being beset with
those ordinances, it knows they last but
awhile, and therefore it gets into its strength,
and keeps close there, till they be out ot
sight and disappear again, and be a good
way off, so that it thinks itself out of their
danger; perhaps a good many days past,
arid then it comes forth and returns to exert
itself with liberty, yea, it may be, with more
vigour, as it were to regain the time it hath
been forced to lose and lie idle within.
They again miss in the right manner of
eschewing that think themselves possibly
some body in it, in that they do avoid the
gross sins wherein the vulgar sort of sinners
wallow, or do eschew such evils as they have
little or no inclination of nature to. But
where the heart stands against sin, as a
breach of God's law, and an offence against
his majesty, as Joseph, Shall I do this evil
and sin, against God 9 Gen. xxxix. 9, there
it will carry a man against all kind of sin,
the most refined and the most beloved sin,
wherein the truth of this aversion is most
tried and approved. As they that have a
strong natural dislike of some kind of meat,
dress it as you will, and mingle it with what
they love best, yet will not willingly eat of
it ; and if they be surprised and deceived
some way to swallow some of it, yet they
will find it after, and be restless till they
have vomited it up again. Thus is it with
the heart, that hath that inward contrariety
to sin wrought in it by a new nature ; it will
consent to no reconcilement with it, nor with
any kind of it. It is as in those deadly
feuds, that were against whole families and
names without exception. The renewed soul
will have no fellowship with the unfruitful
works of darkness, as the apostle speaks,
Eph. v. 11, For what agreement is there
betwixt light and darkness ? 2 Cor. vi. 14.
And this hatred of sin works most against
sin in a man's self, as in things we abhor,
our reluctance rises most when ;hey are
nearest us. A godly man hates sin in
others, as hateful, wheresoever it is found ;
but because it is nearest him in himself, he
hates it most there. They who, by their
nature and breeding, are somewhat delicate,
like not to see any thing uncleanly any
where, but least in their own house, and
upon their own clothes or skin. This
makes the godly man indeed fly not only
the society of evil men, but from himself 5
he goes out of his old self; and till this be
done, a man does not indeed fly sin,* but
carries it still with him as an evil compa-,
nion, or an evil guide rather, that misleads
him still from the paths of life. And there
is much, first in the true discovery, and then
the thorough disunion of the heart from that
sin ; which is most of all a man's self, that
from which he can with the greatest difficulty
escape, that besets him most, luv.^iff-ra.Ta;,
Heb. xii. 1, and lieth in his way on all
hands ; hath him at every turn : To dis-
» Nondum to dcseruisti.
170
A COMMENTARY UPON
engage and get free from that, to eschew
that evil, is difficult indeed. And the task
in this is the harder, if this evil be, as often-
times it may be, not some gross one, but
more subtle, that is less seen, and therefore
not so easily avoided ; but for this an im-
partial search must be used, if it be amongst
those things that seem most necessary, and
that cannot be wanting ; an idol hid amongst
the stuff, yet thence must it be drawn forth
and cast out.
The right eschewing of evil is a wary
avoidance of all occasions and beginnings of
it. Fly from sin (says the wise man,) as
from a serpent, Eccl. ii. 2, not to be tamper-
ing with it, and coming near it, and thinking
to charm it : " For (as one says) who will
not laugh at the charmer that is bit with a
serpent ?" He that thinks he hath power
and skill to handle it without danger, let him
observe Solomon's advice concerning the
strange woman ; he says not only, Go not
into her house, but, Remove thy way far
from her, and come not near the door of
her house, Prov. v. 8. So teaches he wise-
ly for the avoiding that other sin near to it,
Look not on the wine when it is red in the
cup, Prov. xxiii. 31. They that ara bold
and adventurous are often wounded : thus
he that removeth stones shall be hurt there-
by, Eccl. x. 9. If we know our own weak-
ness, and the strength of sin, we shall fear to
expose ourselves to hazards, and be willing
even to abridge ourselves of some things
lawful when they prove dangerous : For he
that will do always all he lawfully may, shall
often do something that lawfully he may not.
Thus for the other, [doing of good, ] the
main thing is to be inwardly principled foi
it ; to have a heart stamped with the love oi
God and his commandments, for conscience
of his will, and love to him, and desire oi
his glory to do all. A good action, even the
best kind of actions, in an evil hand, and
from an evil unsanctified heart, passes amongst
evils. Delight in the Lord and his ways.
David's Oh ! how love I thy law, Psal.
cxix. 96, can tell that he esteems it above
the richest and pleasantest things on earth ;
but how much he esteems and loves it, he
cannot express.
And upon this will follow, as in the for-
mer case of hating evil, a constant tract am
course of obedience, moving directly contrary
to the stream of wickedness about a man,
and also against the bent of his own corrup
heart within him ; a serious desire and en-
deavour to do all the good that is within our
calling and reach, but especially that parti-
cular good of our calling, that which is in
our hand, and is peculiarly required of us.
For in this some deceive themselves ; they
look upon such a condition as they imagine
were fit for them, or such as is in their eye
when they look upon others, and think i
CHAP. III.
they were such, and li.id such a place, and
such power and opportunities, they would do
great matters, and, in the mean time, they
icglect that good to which they are called,
and which they have in some measure power
and place to do. This is the roving sickly
riumour of our minds, and speaks their weak-
ness ; as sick persons that would still change
their bed, or posture, or place of abode,
thinking to be better : But a staid mind
applies itself to the duties of its own station,
and seeks to glorify Him that set it there,
reverencing his wisdom in disposing of it so.
And there is certainty of a blessed approba-
tion of this conduct, be thy station never so
low ; it is not the high condition, but much
fidelity, secures it ; Thou hast been faithful
in little, Luke xix. 17. We must care not
only to answer occasions when they call, but
to catch at them, and seek them out : yea,
to frame occasions of doing good, whether in
the Lord's immediate service, delighting in
that, private and public ; or to men, in assist-
ing one with our means, another with our
admonitions, another with counsel or comfort,
as we can ; labouring not only to have some-
thing, of that good that is most contrary to
our nature, but even to be eminent in that ;
setting Christian resolution, and both the ex-
ample and strength of our Lord, against all
oppositions, and difficulties, and discourage-
ments, " Looking unto Jesus, the author
and finisher of our faith," &c. Heb. xii. 2.
We see our rule, and it is the rule of peace
and happiness ; what hinders but we apply
our hearts to it ? This is our work, and set-
ting aside the advantage that follows, consi-
der the thing itself: 1. The opposition of
sin and obedience, under the name of evil and
good, 2. The composition of our rule, in
these expressions, eschew and do. Consider
it thus evil and good, and it will persuade us
to eschew and do.
And, if you are persuaded to it, then de-
sire, 1. Light from above, to discover to you
what is evil and offensive to God in any
kind, and what pleaseth him, what is his
will ; for that is the rule and reason of good in
our actions, " that we may prove what is the
good, and holy, and acceptable will of God,"
Rom. xii. 2, and to discover in ourselves
what is most adverse and repugnant to that
will. 2. Seek a renewed mind to hate that
evil, the closest and most connatural to you,
and to love that good, even that which
is most contrary. 3. Strength and skill,
that, by another Spirit than your own, you
may avoid evil and do good, and resist the
incursions and solicitings of evil, the slights
and violences of Satan, who is both a serpent
and a lion ,• and power against your own in-
ward corruption, and the fallacies of your own
heart. And thus you shall be able for every
good work, and be kept in such a measure as
suits your present estate, " blameless in soul
VER. 11.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
171
»nd body, to the coming of Jesus Christ," ting the many acceptations of the word peace,
i Thess. v. 23. here particularly external peace with men, I
" Oh ! but," will the humble soul reply, conceive, is meant ; and this is to be sought,
" I am often entangled and plunged in soul
evils, and often frustrate in my thoughts
against these evils, and in my aims at the
good, which is my task and duty."
And was not this Paul's condition ? May
you not complain in his language? , And
happy will you be, if you do so with some
measure of his sense. Happy in crying out
of wretchedness ! Was not this his malady,
" When I would do good, evil is present with
me ?" Rom. vii. 21. But know once, that
though thy duty is this, to eschew evil and
do good, yet thy salvation is more surely
founded than on thine own good. That per-
fection which answers Justice and the law,
is not required of thee : Thou art to walk,
not after the flesh, but after the Spirit : but
in so walking, whether in a low or high mea-
sure, still thy comfort lieth in this, that
there is no condemnation to them that are
in Christ Jesus, as the apostle bsgins the
next chapter after his sad complaints. Again,
consider his thoughts in the close of the 7th
chapter, perceiving the work of God in him,
and differencing that from the corrupt notions
of himself : and so finding at once matter of
heavy complaint, and yet of cheerful exulta-
tion, O / wretched man that I am ! and yet
with the same breath, Thanks to God through
Christ Jesus our Lord.
So then mourn with him, and yet rejoice
with him, and go on with courage as he did,
still fighting the good Jight of faith, 2 Tim.
iv. 7- When thou fallest in the mire, be
ashamed and humbled ; yet return and wash
in the fountain opened, and return and beg
new strength to walk more surely. Learn
to trust thyself less, and God more, and up
and be doing against thine enemies, how
tall and mighty soever be the sons of Anak.
Be of good courage, and the Lord shall be
with thee, and shall strengthen thy heart,
and establish thy goings, Psal. xxvii. ult.
Do not lie down to rest upon lazy conclu-
sions, that it is well enough with thee, be-
cause thou art out of the common puddle of
profaneness ; but look further to purge from
alt fillhi ness of flesh and spirit, perfecting
holiness in the fear of God, 2 Cor. vii. 2.
Do not think thy little is enough, or that
thou hast reason to despair of attaining more ;
but press, press hard toward the mark and
prize of thy high calling, Philip, iii. 14.
Do not think all is lost, because thou art at
present foiled : The experienced soldier
knows that he hath often won the day after a
fall, or a wound received ; * and be assured,
that after the short combats of a moment,
follows an eternity of triumph.
Let him seek peace and ensue it.] Omit-
Novit sc sxpe vicisse post sanguinem. SEW.
and not only to be sought, when it is willing-
ly found, but we are to pursue and follow it
when it seems to fly away : But yet so to
pursue it, as never to step out of the way of
holiness and righteousness after it, and to
forsake this rule that goes before it, of eschew-
ing evil and doing good. Yea, mainly in
so doing is peace to be sought and pursued,
and most readily to be found and overtaken
in that way ; for " the fruit of righteousness
is peace," James iii. 18.
1st, Consider that an unpeaceable, turbu-
lent disposition, is the badge of a wicked
mind ; " as the raging sea still casting up
mire and dirt," Isa. Ivii. 20. But this love
of peace, and in all good ways seeking and
pursuing it, is the true character " of the
children of God, who is the God of Peace."
T'ue, the ungodly (to prevent their own just
challenge, as Ahab) call the friends of true
religion disturbers, and the troublers of Is-
rael, 1 Kings xviii. 17 ; and this will still
be their impudence : But, certainly, they
" that love the welfare of Jerusalem, do seel"
and pray for," and work for peace all they
can, as a chief blessing, and the fruitful
womb of multitudes of blessings.
2dly, Consider then, that to be deprived
of peace is a heavy judgment, and calls for our
prayers and tears to pursue it, and entreat
its return ; to seek it from his hand that is
the sovereign Dispenser of peace and war; to
seek to " be at peace with Him, and thereby
good, all good shall come unto us," Job
xxii. 2 1 , and particularly this great good of
outward peace in due time ; and the very
judgment of war shall, in the event, be turn-
ed into a blessing. We may pursue amongst
men, and not overtake it ; we may use all
good means, and fall short : But, pursue it
up as far as the throne of grace ; seek it by
prayer, and that will overtake it, will be sure
to find it in God's hand, " who stilleth the
waves of the sea, and the tumults of the
people," Psal. Ixv. ?• " If he Sive quietness,
who then can disturb ?" Job xxxiv. 29.
He that will love life.] This is the at-
tractive ; " life, long life, and days of good,"
is the thing men most desire : for if evil days,
then it is so much the worse that they be
long ; and the shortest of such seem too long ;
and if short, being good, this cuts off the en-
joyment of that good : But these two com-
plete the good, and suit it to men's wishes,
length and prosperity of life.
It is here supposed that all would be happy,
that all desire it, carried to that by nature,
to seek their own good : But he that will
love it, that is here, that will wisely love it.
that will take the way to it, and be true to
his desire, " must refrain his tongue from evil,
and his lips that they speak no guile ; h«
172
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP, m
must eschew evil and do good, seek peace and
ensue it." You desire to see good days, and
yet hinder them by sinful provocations ; you
desire good clear days, and yet cloud them
by your guiltiness.
Thus, many desire good here, yea, and
confusedly, the good of the life to come ; be-
cause they hear it is life, and long life, and
that good is to be found in it, yea nothing
but good : But in this is our folly, we will
not love it wisely. The face of our desire is
towards it, but in our course we are rowing
from it down into the dead sea. You would
all have better times, peace and plenty, and
freedom from the molestation and expense of
your condition : Why will you not be per-
suaded to seek it in the true way of it ?
But how is this ? Do not the righteous
often pass their days in distress and sorrow,
so as to have few and evil days, as Jacob
speaks ? Gen. xlix. 7- Yet is there a truth
in this promise, annexing outward good things
to godliness, " as having the promises of this
life and that which is to come," 1 Tim. iv.
8 ; and it is so accomplished to them, when
the Lord sees it convenient, and conducing
to their highest good ; but that he most aims
at, and they themselves do most desire :
And therefore, if the abatement of outward
good, either as to the length or sweetness of
this life, serve his main end and theirs better,
.they are agreed upon this gainful commuta-
tion, of good for infinitely better.
The life of a godly man, though short in
comparison of the utmost of nature's course,
yet may be long in value, in respect of his
activity, and attainment to much spiritual
good. He may be said to live much in a
little time ; whereas they that wear out their
days in folly and sin, diu vivunt sed parum,
i. e. they live long, but little ; or, as the same
writer again speaks, non diu vixit, diu fuit,
i. e. he lived not long, but existed long.
And the good of the godly man's days,
though unseen good, surpasses all the world's
mirth and prosperity, that makes a noise,
but is hollow within ; as the crackling of
thorns, a great sound, but little heat, and
quickly done ; as St. Augnstin says of Abra-
ham, he had dies bonos in Deo, licet malos
in seculo, good days in God, though evil
days in his generation. A believer can
make up an ill clay with a good God, and en-
joying him, hath solid peace ; but then, that
which is abiding, that length of days, and
that dwelling in the house of God in that
length of days, is that which eye hath not
seen, nor ear heard, &c. 1 Cor. ii. 9. They
are good days, or rather one everlasting day,
which has no need of the sun nor moon, but
immediately flows from the first and un-
created light, from the Father of Lights ;
his glory shines in it, and the Lamb is the
light thereof, Rev. xxi. 23.
VBR. 12. For the eyes of the Lord are over the
righteous, and his ears are open unto their pray-
ers ; but the face of the Lord is against them that
do evil.
THE wisest knowledge of things, is to
know them in their causes : But there is no
knowledge of causes so happy and useful, as
clearly to know, and firmly believe, the uni-
versal dependance of all things upon the first
and highest cause, the cause of causes, the
spring of being and goodness, the wise and
just Ruler of the world.
This the Psalmist, Psal. xxxiv. 15, 16,
and here with him the apostle, gives as the
true reason of that truth they have averred
in the former words, the connexion of holi-
ness and happiness. If life, and peace, and
all good, be in God's hand to bestow when
it pleaseth him, then, sure, the way to it,
is an obedient and regular walking in ob-
servance of his will ; and the way of sin is
the way to ruin : te For the eyes of the
Lord are upon the righteous, &c., and his
face is against them that do evil."
In the words there is a double opposition ;
of persons, and of their portion.
1st, Of persons, the righteous and evil-
doers. These two words are often used in
the Scriptures, and particularly in the book
of Psalms, to express the godly and the
wicked ; and so this righteousness is not ab-
solute perfection or sinlessness, nor is the
opposed evil every act of sin, or breach 01
God's law : But the righteous be they that
are students of obedience and holiness, that
desire to walk as in the sight of God, and
to walk with God, as Enoch did ; that are
glad when they can any way serve him, and
grieved when they offend him ; that feel and
bewail their unrighteousness, and are ear-
nestly breathing and advancing forward ;
have a sincere and unfeigned love to all the
commandments of God, and diligently en-
deavour to observe them ; that vehemently
hate what most pleases their corrupt nature,
and love the command that crosses it most.
This is an imperfect kind of perfection, Phil,
iii. 12, 15.
On the other side, evil-doers are they that
commit sin with greediness ; that walk in
it, make it their way, that live in sin as
their element, taking pleasure in unrigh-
teousness, as the apostle speaks, 2 Thess.
xi. 12 ; their great faculty and their great
delight lies in sin ; they are skilful and
cheerful evil-doers : Not any one man in all
kind of sins, that is impossible ; there is a
concatenation of sin, and one disposes and
induces to another ; but yet, one ungodly
man is commonly more versed in, and de-
lighted with, some one kind of sin, another
with some other. He forbears none, because
it is evil and hateful to God, but as he can-
not travel over the whole globe of wicked-
ness, and go the full circuit, he walks up
VEW. 12.1
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
1/3
and down in his accustomed way of sin.
No one mechanic is good at all trades, nor
is any man expert in all arts : but he is an
cvil-doei that follows the particular trade of
the sin he hath chosen, is active and dili-
gent in that, and finds it sweet. In a word,
this opposition lieth mainly in the bent of
the affection, or in the way it is set. The
godly man hates the evil he, possibly by
temptation, hath been drawn to do, and loves
the good he is frustrate of, and, having in-
tended, hath not attained to do. The sinner
that hath his denomination from sin, as his
course, hates the good that sometimes he is
forced to do, and loves that sin which many
times he does not : either wanting occasion
and means, and so he cannot do it, or, through
check cf an enlightened conscience, possibly
dares not do : And though so bound up from
the act, as a dog in a chain, yet the habit,
the natural inclination and desire in him, is
still the same ; the strength of his affection
is carried to sin ; as in the weakest godly
man, there is that predominant sincerity and
desire of holy walking, according to which
he is called a righteous person. The Lord
is pleased to give him that name, and ac-
count him so, being upright in heart, though
often failing. There is a righteousness of a
higher strain upon which his salvation hangs
that is not in him, but upon him ; he is
clothed with it : But this other, of sincerity,
and of true and hearty, though imperfect
obedience, is the righteousness here meant,
and opposed to evil-doing.
2dly, Their opposite condition or portion
is expressed in the highest motion of it ;
that wherein the very being of happiness anc
misery lieth, the favour and anger of God.
As their natures differ most, by the habi
of their affection towards God, as their main
distinguishing character, so the differenc
of their estate consists in the point of his
affection towards them, spoke here, in our
language, by the divers aspects of his coun-
tenance ; because our love and hatied usu-
ally looks out, and shews itself that way.
Now, for the other word, expressing his
favour to the righteous, by the openness ofhh
ear, the opposition in the other needed no
to be expressed ; for, either the wicked prai
not. or, if they do, it is indeed no prayer
the Lord doth not account nor receive it a
such ; and if his face be set against them
certainly his ear is shut against them too
and so shut that it openeth not to their loud
est prayer : " Though they cry in mine ear
with a loud voice, yet I will not hear them,'
says the Lord, Ezek. viii. 18.
And before we pass to the particular
of their condition, as here we have them
this we would consider a little, and appl;
it to our present business, who are the per
sons whom the Lord thus regards, and t
whose prayer he opens his ear.
This •we pretend to be seeking after, that
he Lord would look favourably upon us,
and hearken to our suits, for ourselves, and
his land, and the whole Church of God
within these kingdoms. Indeed, " the fer-
ment prayer of a faithful man availeth much,"
lf^vit\ it is of great strength, a
nighty thing, that can bind and loose the
nfluences of heaven (as there is instan-
ced, Jam. v. 1C, 17); and the prayer of
a righteous man, be it but of one righ-
,eous man, how much more the combined
cries of many of them together. And,
:hat we judge not the righteousness there
and here mentioned, to be a thing above
luman estate, Elias, says the apostle, " was
a man, and a man subject to like passions
as we are," and yet such a righteous person
as the Lord had an eye and gave ear to in
so great a matter. But, where are those
righteous fasters and prayers in great congre-
;ations ? How few, if any, to be found,
that are but such in the lowest sense and
measure, real lovers and inquirers after ho-
liness ! What are our meetings here, but
assemblies of evil-doers, rebellious children,
ignorant and profane persons, or dead formal
professors, and so the more of us the worse,
incensing the Lord the more ; and the mul-
titude of prayers, though we could and would
continue many days, all to no purpose, from
such as we : " Though ye make many pray-
ers, when ye multiply prayer, I will not
hear : And when ye spread forth your hands,
I will hide mine eyes from you," Isa. i. 11.
Your hands are so filthy, that if you would
follow me to lay hold on me with them, you
drive me further off ; as one with foul hands,
following a person that is neat, to catch
hold of him : And if you spread them out
before me, my eyes are pure, you will make
me turn away. I cannot endure to look upon
them, / will hide mine eyes from you.
And fasting, added with prayer, will not
do it, nor make it pass : When they fast,
I will not hear their cry, Jer. xiv. 12.
It is the sin of his people that provokes
him, instead of looking favourably upon
them, to have his eyes upon them for evil
and not for ffood, as he threatens, Amos ix.
4 ; and therefore, without putting away of
that, prayer is lost breath, and doth no good.
They that still retain their sins, and will
not hearken to his voice, what can they ex-
pect but that justly threatened retaliation,
Prov. i. 26, 28, and that the Lord, in holy
scorn, in the day of their distress, should
send them for help and comfort to those
things which they have made their gods, and
preferred before him in their trouble ?
" They will say, Arise and save us ; but
where are the gods that thou hast made
thee ? let them arise, if they can save thee
in the time of thy trouble," Jer. ii. 28.
And not only do open and gross impieries
174
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP, ur
thus disappoint our prayers, but the lodging
of any sin in our affection. // 1 regard ini~
quity in my heart (says the Psalmist, Psal.
Ixvi. 28,) the Lord will not hear my voice ;
the word is, if I see iniquity, if mine eye
look pleasantly upon it, his eye will not look
so upon me, nor shall I find his ear so ready
and open. He says not, If I do sin, but
// / regard it in my heart. The heart en-
tertaining and embracing a sin, though it
lie a smaller sin, is more than the simple
falling into sin. And as the ungodly do,
for this reason, lose all their prayers, a godly
man may suffer this way, in some degree,
upon some degree of guiltiness ; this way
the heart seduced, it may be, and entangled
for a time by some sinful lust, they are sure
to find a stop in their prayers, that they
neither go nor come so quickly and so com-
fortably as before. Any sinful humour, as
rheums do our voice, binds up the voice of
prayer, makes it not so clear and shrill as it
was wont : and the accusing guilt of it as-
cending, shuts up the Lord's ear, that he
doth not so readily hear and answer as be-
fore. And thus that sweet correspondence
is interrupted, which all the delights of the
world cannot compensate.
If, then, you would have easy and sweet
accesses to God in prayer, 1. Seek an holy
heart ; entertain a constant care and study
of holiness; admit no parley with sin ; do
not so much as hearken to it, if you would
be readily heard.
2. Seek a broken heart, the Lord is ever
at hand to that, as it is in Psal. xxxiv.
whence the apostle cites the words now un-
der our consideration, He is nigh unto them
that are of a contrite spirit, ver. 18, &c.
It is an excellent way to prevail. The break-
ing of the heart multiplies petitioners, every
piece of it hath a voice ; and a very strong
and very moving voice, that enters his ear,
and stirs the bowels and compassions of the
Lord towards it.
3. Seek an humble heart. That may
present its suits always ; the court is con-
btantly there, even within it ; the great King
loves to make his abode and residence in it,
Isa. Ivii. 15. This is the thing that the
Lord so delights in and requires, he will not
fail to accept of it, it is his choice, Mic. vi.
6, 8. " Wherewith shall I come before the
Lord, &c. He hath shewed thee, O man,
what is good ; and what doth the Lord re-
quire of thee, but to do justly, and love
mercy :" There is this righteousness, and
that as a great part making it up, to walk
humbly with thy God ; in the original,
humble to walk with thy God ; he cannot
agree with a proud heart ; he hates and re-
sists it, and two cannot walk together unless
they be agreed, as the prophet speaks, Amos
iii. 3. The humble heart only is company
for God, hath liberty to walk and converse
; with him. lie gives grace to the humble ;
he bows his ear, if thou lift not up thy neck ;
| Proud beggars he turns away with disdain,
and the humblest suitors always speed best
with him, the righteous, not such in their
own eyes, but in his, through his gracious
dignation and acceptance. And, is there not
reason to come humbly before him, base
worms, to the most holy and most high God ?
The eyes of the Lord.} We see, 1. That
both are in his sight, the righteous and the
wicked ; all of them and all their ways ; his
eye is on the one, and his face on the other,
as the word is, but so on these as against
them. It is therefore rendered his eye of
knowledge and of observance, marking them
and their actions equally upon both. " There
is no darkness nor shadow of death where
the workers of iniquity may hide themselves,"
Job xxxiv. 22. Foolishly and wretchedly
done, to do that, or think that, that we
would hide from the Lord, and then to think,
that we can hide it ! The Prophet speaks
woe to such : "Woe to them that dig deep
to hide their counsel from the Lord, and
their works are in the dark, and they say,
who seeth us ; and who knoweth us ?" Isa.
xxix. 15. And this is the grand principle
of all wickedness, not, it may be, expressly
stated, but secretly lying in the soul, and
habitual forgetting of God and his eye, not
considering that he beholds us ; ye that for .
get God, says the Psalmist, 1. 22, thence
all impiety proceeds ; and on the .other side,
the remembrance of his eye is a radical
point of [ iety and holiness, in which the
cxxxixth Psalm is large and excellent.
But, as the Lord doth thus equally see
both, so as his eye and countenance imports
his mind concerning them, and towards
them, the manner of beholding them is dif-
ferent, yea, contrary. And from the other,
beholding in common, knowing their ways,
arises this different beholding, which (as
usually words of sense signify also the affec-
tion*) is the approving and- disliking, the
loving and hating them, and their ways :
So he peculiarly knows the righteous and
their ways, Psal. i. 6. And knows not,
never knew, the workers of iniquity, even
those that by their profession would plead
most acquaintance, and familiar converse,
eating and drinking in his presence, and
yet / know you not, whence are you ? Luke
xiii. 26. It is not a breaking off from for-
mer acquaintance ; no, he doth not that, he
disavows none that ever were truly acquaint-
ed with him. So the other evangelist hath
it, Matt. vii. 29. of those that thought to
have been in no small account, / never knew
you, depart from me ; and the convincing
reason lies in that, ye workers of iniquity {
none of his favourites and friends are such.
Thus here, his eye, his gracious eye for
* Vcrba sensus connotant affectus
VER I2.J
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
176
pood, is on the righteous ; and his face, his
angry looks, his just wrath against evil- doers.
In the llth Psalm, we have this expressed
much after the same way. First, what we
spoke of his knowing and beholding in com-
mon, the righteous and wicked, and their
ways, is represented by his sitting on high,
where he may mark and see clearly through-
out all places and all hearts. His throne is
in heaven, his eyes behold, his eye-lids try,
the children of men, ver. 4. He sits in
heaven, not as in a chair of rest, regardless
of human things, but on a throne, for go-
verning and judging ; though with as little
uneasiness and disturbance, as if there were
nothing to be done that way. His eyes be-
hold, not in a fruitless contemplation or
knowledge ; but his eye-lids try, which
signifies an intsnt inspection, such as men
usually make with a kind of motion of their
eyelids. Then upon this is added the dif-
ferent portion of the righteous and wicked,
in his beholding them and dealing with
them ; he tries the righteous, v. 5. approves
what is good in them, and by trial and afflic-
tion doth purge out what is evil ; and in
both these is love ; but the wicked and him
that loveth violence his soul hateth, and
therefore, as here, his face is against them.
His soul and face are all one ; but these
things are expressed after our manner. He
looks upon them with indignation ; and
thence come the storms in the next verse,
snares rained down, ver. C. The wariest foot
cannot avoid such snares, they come down
upon them from above ; fire, and brimstone,
and burning tempest, alluding to Sodom's
judgment as an emblem of the punishment
of all the wicked ; this is the portion of
their cup. There is a cup for them ; but
his children drink not with them. They
have another cup, the Lord himself t* the
portion of their cup, Psal. xvi. C, his fa-
vour, as the llth Psalm closes, " The righ-
teous Lord loveth righteousness, his coun-
tenance doth behold the upright ;" that is
another beholding than the former ; graci-
ous, loving beholding, as here his eyes are
upon the righteous.
• Now, the persuasion of this truth is the
main establishment of a godly mind, amidst
all the present confusions that appear in
things ; and it is so here intended, and in
the Psalm I have mentioned, and through-
out the Scriptures.
To look upon the present flourishing and
prosperity of evil-doers, and on the distresses
and sorrows of the godly, is a dark obscure
matter in itself ; but the way to be cleared
and comforted, is to look above them to the
Lord, " They looked unto him and were
lightened," Psalm xxxiv. 5 ; that answers
all doubts, to believe this undoubted pro-
vidence and justice, the eye of God that sees
all, yea, rules all these things. And, in
the midst of all the painted happiness of
wicked men, this is enough to make them
miserable, the Lord" s face is against them ;
and they shall surely find it so. He hath
wrath and judgment in store, and will bring
it forth to light ! will execute u in due time ;
he is preparing for them that cup spoke of,
and they shall drink it. So, in the saddest
condition of his church and a believing soul,
to know this, that the Lord's eye is even
then upon them, and that he is upon thoughts
of peace and love to them, is that which
settles and composes the mind. Thus in
that Psalm before cited, it was such dif-
ficulties that did drive I>arid's thoughts to
that for satisfaction, " If the foundations be
destroyed, what can the righteous do ?" Psal.
xi. 2. In the time of such great shakings
and confusions, the righteous man can do
nothing to it, but the righteous Lord can do
enough ; he can do all : The righteous Lord
that loveth righteousness. While all seems
to go upside down, he is on his throne, he
is trying and judging, and will appear to
be Judge, This is the thing that faithful
souls should learn to lock to, and not lose
view and firm belief of, and should desire
the Lord himself to raise their minds to it
when they are like to sink. Natural strength
and resolution will not serve the turn ;
floods may come that will arise above that :
something above a man's own spirit must
support him : Therefore say with David,
Psal. Ixi. 7> " When my spirit is overwhelm-
ed, lead me to the Rock that is higher than
I." They think sometimes it is so hard with
them, he regards not ; but he assures them
of the contrary, " I have graven thee upon
the palms of mine hands," Isa. xlix. 16.
I cannot look upon mine own hands, but I
must remember thee : " And thy walls are
continually before me." This is that the
spouse seeks for, " Set me as a seal upon
thine arm," Cant. viii. 6.
Now, a little more particularly to consider
the expressions, and their scope here, how
is that made good which the former words
teach, that they that walk in the ways of
wickedness can expect no good, but are cer-
tainly miserable ? Thus, the face of the
Lord is against them. Prosper they may
in their affairs and estates, may have riches,
and posterity, and friends, and the world
caressing them, and smiling on them on
all hands ; but there is that one thing that
damps all, the face of the Lord is against
them. This they feel not indeed for the
time ; it is an invisible ill, out of sight and
out of mind with them : But there is a time
of the appearing of this face of the Lord,
against them, the revelation of his righteous
judgment, as the apostle speaks, Rom. ii.
5, sometimes precursory days of it here, but
however one great prefixed day ; a day of
darkness to them indeed, wherein they shall
17G
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. in.
know what this is, that now sounds so light,
to have the face of the Lord against them ;
a look of it is more terrible than all present
miseries combined together ; what then shall
the eternity of it be ! to be punished (as the
apostle speaks) " with everlasting destruc-
tion from the presence of the Lord, and the
glory of his power," 2 Thess. i. 9.
Are we not then impertinent foolish crea-
tures, that are so thoughtful how our poor
business here succeed with us, and how we
are accounted of in the world, and how the
faces of men are towards us, and scarce ever
enter into a secret serious inquiry how the
countenance of God is to us, whether favour-
ably shining on us or still angrily set against
us, as it is against all impenitent sinners ?
The face of the soul being towards God,
turned away from the world and sin, argues
for it, that his face is not against it ; but
that he hath graciously looked upon it, and
by a look of love hath drawn it towards
himself; for we act not first in that; non
amatur Deus nisi de Deo. It is he that
prevents us, and by the beams of his love,
kindles love in our hearts. Now, the soul
that is thus set towards him, it may be, doth
not constantly see here his face shining full
and clear upon it, but often clouded. Nay,
it may be, such a soul hath not yet at all
seen it sensibly ; yet this it may conclude,
seeing my desires are towards him, and
my chief desire is the sweet light of his
countenance, though as yet I find not his
face shining on me, yet I am persuaded it is
not set against me to destroy me. Misbe-
lief, when the soul is much under its in-
fluence, and distempered by it, may suggest
this sometimes too ; but yet still there is
some spark of hope that it is otherwise, that
the eye of the Lord's pity is even in that
estate upon us, and will in time manifest
itself to be so.
To the other question, What assurance
have the godly for that seeing of good, these
blessings you speak of? This, the eyes of
the Lord are upon them, and his cars are
open to their prayer. If you think Him
wise enough to know what is good for them,
and rich enough to afford it, they are sure
of one thing, he loves them ; they have his
good will, his heart is towards them, and
therefore his eye and his ear. Can they then
want any good ? If many days, and out-
ward good things, be indeed good for them,
they cannot miss of these. He hath given
them already much better things than these,
and hath yet far better in store for them 5
and what way soever the world go with them,
this itself is happiness enough, that they are
in his love, n-liose loving kindness is better
than life, ljsal. Ixiii. 3. Sweet days have
they that live in it. What better days would
courtiers wish, than to be still in the eye
and favour of the king, to be certain of his
good-will towards them, and to know of ac-
cess, and of a gracious acceptance of all their
suits ? Now thus it is with all the servants
of the great King, without prejudice one to
another ; he is ready to receive their re-
quests, and able and willing to do them all
good. Happy state of a believer ! He must
not account himself poor and destitute in
any condition, for he hath favour at court ;
lie hath the King's eye and his ear ; " the
eyes of the Lord are upon him, and his ears
open to his prayers."
The eyes of the Lord are upon the
righteous.] This hath in it, 1. His love,
the propension of his heart towards them.
The eye is the servant of the affection ; it
naturally turns that way most where the
heart is. Therefore, thus the Lord is pleas,
ed to speak of his love to his own. He
views still all the world, but he looks upon
them with a peculiar delight ; his eye is
still on them, as it were towards them from
all the rest of the world. Though he doth
not always let them see these his looks, for
it is not said they always are in sight of it ;
no, not here ; yet still his eye is indeed upon
them, by the beauty of grace in them, his
own work indeed, the beauty that he him-
self hath put upon them. And so the other
of his ear too, he is willing to do for them
what they ask ; he loves even to hear them
speak ; finds a sweetness in the voice of their
prayers that makes his ear not only open fo
their prayers, but desirous of them, as sweet
music. Thus he speaks of both, Cant. ii.
14, " My dove, let me see thy countenance,
let me hear thy voice ; for sweet is thy voice,
and thy countenance is comely."
2. The phrase expresses his good provi-
dence and readiness to do them good ; to
supply their wants, and order their affairs
for them ; to answer their desires, and thus
to let them find the fruits of that love that
so leads his eye and ear towards them. His
eye is upon them ; he is devising and think-
ing what to do for them ; it is the thing he
thinks on most : His eyes are on all ; but
they are busied, as he is pleased to express
it, they run to and fro through the earth,
to shew himself strong in behalf of them
whose heart is perfect towards him, Sec. 2
Chron. xvi. 9. So Deut. xi. 12, His eyes
are all the year on the land : And no
wonder, then, he answers their suits in what
is good for them, when it is still in his
thoughts before ; he prevents them with
the blessings of his goodness, Psal. xxi. 3 ;
they cannot be so mindful of themselves, as
he is of them.
This is an unspeakable comfort, when a
poor heliever is in great perplexity of any
kind in his outward or spiritual condition.
" Well, I see no way ; I am blind in this ;
but there are eyes upon me that see well
what is best. The Lord is minding nit.
rrn. 12. |
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
177
and bringing about all to my advantage. /
am poor and needy indeed, but the Lord
thinketh on me, Psal. xl. 17-" That turns
the balance. Would not a man, though he
had nothing, think himself happy, if some
great prince was busily thinking how to ad-
vance and enrich him ? much more, if a
number of kings were upon this thought,
and devising together ? yet these thoughts
might perish, as the Psalmist speaks, Psal.
cxlvi. 4. Haw much more solid happiness
is it to have Him, whose power is greatest,
and whose thoughts fail not, eyeing thee,
and devising thy good, and asking us, as it
were, " What shall be done to the man
whom the King will honour ?"
And his ears are open unto their prayer. ]
What suits thou hast, thou mayest speak
freely ; he will not refuse thee any thing
that is for thy good.
'• Oh ! but I am not righteous, and all
this is for the righteous only." Yet thou
wouldest be such a one. Wouldest thou in-
deed ? then in part thou art. As he mo-
destly and wisely changed the name of vise
men into philosophers, lovers of wisdom :
Art thou no righteous ? yet (?/Xo2/xa«j) a
lover of righteousness thou art ; then thou
art one of these. If still thine own righ-
teousness be in thine eye, it may, and should
be so, to humble thee ; but if it should
scare thee from coming unto God, and offer-
ing thy suits with this persuasion, that his ear
i* open, should it make thee think that his
favourable eye is not toward thee, yet there
is mercy, creep in under the robe of his Son.
Thou art sure he is Jesus Christ the Righ-
teous, and that the Father's eye. is on him
with delight, and then it shall be so on
thee. being in him. Put thy petitions into
his hand, who is the Great Master of re-
quests ; thou canst not doubt that he hath
access, and that ear open to him, which thou
thinkest shut to thee.
The exercise of prayer being so impor-
tant, and bearing so great a part in the life
and comfort of a Christian, it deserves to be
very seriously considered. We will there-
fore subjoin some few considerations concern-
ing it.
Prayer is considerable in a threefold no-
tion : 1. As a duty we owe to God. As it
is from him we expect and receive all, it is
a very reasonable homage and acknowledge-
ment thus to testify the dependence of our
being and life on him ; and the dependence
of our souls upon him for being, and life,
and all good ; that we be daily suitors be-
fore his throne, and go to him for all. 2.
As the dignity, and the delight, of a spiri-
tual mind, to have so near access unto God,
and such liberty to speak to him. 3. As a
proper and sure means, by divine appoint-
ment and promise, of obtaining at the hands
and convenient for us. And although some
believers, of lower knowledge, do net (it
may be) so distinctly know, and others not
so particularly consider, all these in it, yet
there is a latent notion of them all in the
heart of every godly person, that stirs them
and puts them on to the constant use of
prayer, and to a love of it.
And as they are in these respects inclined
and bent to the exercise of prayer, the Lord's
ear is in like manner inclined to hear their
prayer, in these respects : 1. He takes it well
at their hands, that they do offer it up as
due worship to him ; that they desire thus
as they can to serve him. He accepts of
those offerings graciously, passes by the im-
perfections in them, and hath regard to their
sincere intention and desire. 2. It pleases
him well, that they delight in prayer, as
converse with him ; that they love to be
much with him, and to speak to him often,
and still aspire by this way to more acquain-
tance with him, that they are ambitious of
this. 3. He willingly hears their prayers
as the expressions of their necessities and
desires, being both rich and bountiful ; he
loves to have blessings drawn out of his
hands that way, as full breasts delight to be
drawn. The Lord's treasure is always full,
and therefore, he is always communicative.
In the first respect prayer is acceptable to
the Lord as incense and sacrifice, as David
desires, Psal. cxli. 2 ; the Lord receives it as
divine worship done to him. In the second,
prayer is as the visits and sweet entertain-
ment, and discourse of friends together, and
so is pleasing to the Lord, as the free open-
ing of the mind, pouring out of the heart
to him, as it is called in Psal. Ixii. 8 ; and
Psal. v. 1, calls it his words, and his medi-
tation ; and the word for that signifies dis-
course, or conference. And, in the third
sense, he receives prayer as the suits of pe-
titioners that are in favour with him, and
that he readily accords to. And thus the
words for supplication in the original, and
the word here for prayer, and that for cry, in
the Psalm, do mean ; and in that sense the
Lord's open ear and hearkening hath in it
his readiness to answer, as one that doth
hear, and to answer graciously and really, a?
hearing favourably.
I shall now add some directions. 1. Fo»
prayer, that it may be accepted and answer,
ed. 2. For observing the answers of it.
1. For prayer, the qualification of the
heart that offers it. 2. The way of offer-
ing it.
1. As to the qualification of the heart, it
must be in some measure a holy heart, ac-
cording to that word here, the righteous ;
there must be no regarding iniquity, enter-
taining of friendship with any sin, but a per-
manent love and desire of holiness. Thus,
of God those good things that are needful indeed, a man prays within himself, as in
II
178
sanctified place, whither the Lord's ear in-
clines, as of old to the temple ; he need not
run superstitiously to a church, &c. intra te
ora, sed vide prius an sis templum Dei ;
the sanctified man's body is the temple of
the Holy Spirit, as the apostle speaks, 1
Cor. vi. 19, and his soul the priest in it,
that offers sacrifice : Both holy to the Lord,
consecrated to him. 2dly, It must be a be-
jeving heart, for there is no praying with-
out this. Faith is the very life of prayer,
whence springs hope and comfort with it, to
uphold the soul, and keep it steady under
storms, with the promises ; and as Aaron
and Hur to Moses, keeping it from fainting,
Strengthening the hands when they would
begin to fail. Such is the force of that
wjrd, Psal. x. 17 ; for the preparing of the
heart, which God gives as an assurance and
pledge of his inclining his ear to hear, it
signifies the establishing of the heart, as
that indeed is a main point of its prepared-
ness, and due disposition for prayer. Now
this is done by faith ; without which, the
soul, as the apostle St. James speaks, is a
rolling unquiet thing, a* a wave of the sea,
of itself, unstable as the waters, and then
driven ivith the wind and tossed, James i.
6, to and fro with every temptation. See
and feel thine own unworthiness as much as
thou canst, for thou art never bid to believe
in thyself, no, but it is countermanded as
faith's greatest enemy. But what hath thy
unworthiness to say against free promises of
grace, which are the basis of thy faith ? So
then believe, that you may pray ; this is
David's advice, Psal. Ixii. 8, Trust in him
at all times, ye people, and then pour out
your hearts before him. Confide in him as
a most faithful and powerful friend, and then
you will open your hearts to him.
2. For the way of offering up prayer;
it is a great art, a main part of the secret
of religion to be skilled in it, and of great
concern for the comfort and success of it.
Much is here to be considered, but for the
present take these advices briefly. 1. Offer not
to speak to him, without the heart in some
measure seasoned and prepossessed with the
sense of his greatness and holiness. And
there is much in this ; considering wisely
to whom we speak, the King, the Lord of
Glory, and setting tbe soul before him, in
his presence ; and then reflecting on our-
selves, and seeing what we are, how wretch-
ed, and base, and filthy, and unworthy of
such access to such a Great Majesty. The
want of this preparing of the heart to speak
in the Lord's ear, by the consideration of
God and ourselves, is that which fills the
exercise of prayer with much guiltiness ;
makes the heart careless, and slight, and
irreverent, and so displeases the Lord, and
disappoints ourselves of that comfort in
prayer, and answers of it, that otherwise
[CHAP. in.
we would have more experience of. We
rush in before him with any thing, provided
we can tumble out a few words ; and do not
weigh these things, and compose our hearts
with serious thoughts and conceptions of
God. The soul that studies and endeavours
this most, hath much to do to attain to any
right apprehensions of him ; for how little
know we of him ! yet should we at least
set ourselves before him, as the purest and
greatest Spirit ; a Being infinitely more ex-
cellent than our minds, or any creature can
conceive. This would fill the soul with awe
and reverence, and ballast it, so as to make
it go more even through the exercise ; to
consider the Lord, as that prophet saw him,
sitting on his throne, and all the host of
heaven standing by him, on his right hand
and on his left, 1 Kings xxii. 19, and thy-
self a defiled sinner coming before him, as
a vile frog creeping out of some pool : *
How would this fill thee with holy fear ? Oh !
his greatness and our baseness, and Oh !
the distance. This is Solomon's advice,
" Be not rash with thy mouth, and let not
thy heart be hasty to utter any thing before
God, for God is in heaven, and thou upon
earth, therefore let thy words be few," Eccl.
v. 2. This would keep us from our ordinary
babblings, that heart nonsense, which, though
the words be sense, yet, through the inat-
tention of the heart, are but as impertinent
confused dreams in the Lord's ears, as there
follows, ver. 3.
2. When thou addresses! thyself to prayer,
desire and depend upon the assistance and
inspiration of the Holy Spirit of God ; with-
out which thou art not able truly to pray.
It is a supernatural work, and therefore the
principle of it must be supernatural. He
that hath nothing of the Spirit of God can-
not pray at all. He may howl as a beast in
his necessity or distress ; or may speak words
of prayer, as some birds learn the language
of men ; but pray he cannot. And they
that have that Spirit ought to seek the mov-
ings and actual workings of it in them
in prayer ; the particular help of their
infirmities, Heb. iv. 15, teaching both what
to ask, a thing that of ourselves we know
not, and then enabling them to ask ; breath-
ing forth their desires in such sighs and
groans, as are the breath, not simply of
their own, but of God's Spirit.
3. As these two precautions are to be
taken before prayer, so, in the exercise of it,
you should learn to keep a watchful eye over
your own hearts throughout every step of the
way, that they start not out ; by the keep-
ing up of a continual remembrance of that
presence of God, which in the entry of the
work, is to be set before the eye of the soul.
And our endeavour ought to be, to fix it upon
that view, that it turn not aside, nor down-.
* Velut e palude sua vilis ranuncula. BERN.
VER. 12.
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
170
wards, but, from beginning to end, keep
sight of him, who sees and marks whether
we do so or no. They that are most inspec-
tive and watchful in this, will still be faulty
in it ; but certainly the less watchful the
more faulty : And this we ought to do, to
be aspiring daily to more stability of mind
in prayer, and driving out somewhat of that
roving and wandering, that is so universal
an evil ; and certainly so grievous, not to
those that have it most, but that observe and
discover it most, and endeavour most against
it. A strange thing ! that the mind, even
the renewed mind, should be so ready, not
only at other times, but in the exercise of
prayer, wherein we peculiarly come so near
to God, yet even to slip out and leave him,
and follow some poor vanity or other instead
of him. Surely the godly man, when he
thinks on this, is exceedingly ashamed of
himself, cannot tell what to think of it :
God, his exceeding joy, whom, in his right
thoughts, he esteems so much above the
world, and all things in it, yet to use him
thus, when he is speaking to him ; to break
off from that, and hold discourse, or change
a word, with some base thought that steps
in, and whispers to him ; or, at the best,
not to be stedfastly minding the Lord to
whom he speaks, and possessed with the re-
gard of his presence, and of his business
and errand with him.
This is no small piece of our misery here ;
these wanderings are evidence to us that we
are not at hmoe : But though we should be
humbled for this, and still labouring against
it, yet should we not be so discouraged as
to be driven from the work. Satan would
desire no better than that : it were to help
him to his wish ; and sometimes a Christian
may be driven to think, What ! shall I do still
thus, abusing my Lord's name, and the pri-
vilege he hath given me ? I had better leave
off. No, not so by any means ; strive against
tfie miserable evil in thee, but cast not away
thy happiness. Be doing still. It is a fro-
ward childish humour, when any thing agrees
not to our mind, to throw all away. Thou
mayest come off as Jacob, with halting from
thy wrestlings, and yet obtain the blessing
for which thou wrestled, Gen. xxxii. 24, &c
4. These graces, which are the due qua-
lities of the heart, disposing it for prayer in
the exercise of it, should be excited and act-
ed : as holiness, the love of it, the desire
of increase and growth of it ; so the hum-
bling and melting of the heart, and chiefly
faith, which is mainly set on work in prayer,
to draw forth the sweetnesses and virtues of
the promises, to desire earnestly their per-
formance to the soul, and to believe that they
shall be performed ; to have before our eyes
His goodness and faithfulness, who hatl
promised, and to rest upon that. And for
nuccess in prayer, exercising faith in it, i
s altogether necessary to interpose the Me.-
diator, and look through him, and to speak
and petition by him ; who warns us of this,
hat there is no other way to speed, No man
cometh to the Father but by me, John xiv.
As the Jews, when they prayed, looked
.oward the Temple, where was the mercy-
seat, and the peculiar presence of God
Schechinah ;] thus ought we, in all our
)rayiug, to look on Christ, who is our pro-
pitiatory, and in whom the fulness of the
Godheat* dwells bodily, Col. ii. 9. The
forgetting of this may be the cause of our
many disappointments.
5. Fervency ; not to seek coldly, that
jresages refusal. There must be fire in the
sacrifice, otherwise it ascends not. There is
no sacrifice without incense, and no incense
without fire. Our remiss dead hearts are not
ikely to do much for the Church of God,
nor for ourselves. Where are those strong
cries that should pierce the heavens ? His
ear is open to their cry. He hears the faint-
est, coldest prayer, but not with that delight
and propenseness to grant it ; his ear is not
on it, as the word here is, Psal. Iv. 17 ; he
akes no pleasure in hearing it, but cries,
leart-cries, Oh ! those take his ear, and move
lis bowels ! for these are the voice, the cries,
of his own children. A strange word of en-
couragement to importunity, Give him no
•est, Isa. Ixii. 7 ; suffer him not to be in
quiet, till he make Jerusalem a praise in
the earth. A few such suitors in these times
were worth thousands such as we are/- Oui
prayers stick in our breasts, scarce come forth,
much less do they go up and ascend with that
piercing force, that would open up the way
for deliverances to come down.
But in this must be some difference of tem-
poral and spiritual things. The prayer in
the right strain, cannot be too fervent in any
thing, but the desire of the thing in tem-
porals may be too earnest. A feverish dis-
tempered heat diseases the soul, therefore, in
these things, a holy indifferency concerning
the particular, may, and should, be joined
with the fervency of prayer. But, in spiri-
tual things, there is no danger in vehemency
of desire ; covet these, hunger and thirst
foi tnem, be incessantly ardent in the suit ;
yet even in those in some particulars, as for
the degree and measure of grace, and some
peculiar furtherances, they should be pre-
sented so with earnestness, as that withal it
be with a reference and resignation of it to
the wisdom and love of our Father.
2. For the other point, the answer of our
prayers, which is in this openness of the ear,
it is a thing very needful to be considered and
attended to ; if we think that prayer is in-
leed a thing that God takes notice of, and
hath regard to in his dealing with his chil-
dren, it is certainly a point of duty and
wisdom in them to observe how he takes
180
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. in.
notice of it, and bends his ear to it, and puts
his hand to help, and so answers it. This
both furnishes matter of praise, and stirs up
the heart to render it. Therefore, in the
Psalms, the hearing of prayer is so often
observed and recorded, and made a part of
the song of praise. And, withal, it endears
both God and prayer unto the soul, as we
have both together, Psal. cxvi. 1, / love the
Lord, because he hath heard my voice and
my supplications ; the transposition in the
original is pathetical, / love, because the
Lord hath heard my voice. I am in love,
snd particularly this causes it, I have found
so much kindness in the Lord, I cannot but
love ; He hath heard my voice. And then
it wins his esteem and affection to prayer,
seeing I find this virtue in it, we shall never
part again ; / will call upon him as long as
I live. Seeing prayer draweth help and
favours from heaven, I shall not be to seek
for a way in any want or strait that can befal
me.
In this there is need of direction : But
too many rules may as much confuse a mat-
ter as too few, and do many times perplex
the mind and multiply doubts, as many laws
do multiply pleading. Briefly then,
1. Slothful minds do often neglect the
answers of God, even when they are most
legible in the grant of the very thing itself
that was desired. It may be through a total
inadvertence in this kind, never thinking on
things as answers of our requests ; or possi-
bly a continual eager pursuit of more, turns
away the mind from considering what it hath
upon request obtained ; still so bent upon
what further we would have, that we never
think what is already done for us, which is
one of the most ordinary causes of ingrati-
tude.
2. But though it be not in the same thing
that we desire, yet when the Lord changes
our petitions in his answers, it is always for the
better ; he regards (according to that known
word of St. Augustin *) our well more than
our will. We beg deliverance, we are not
unanswer2d if he give patience and support ;
be it under a spiritual trial or temptation,
My grace is sufficient for thee. And where
the Lord doth thus, it is certainly better for
the time than the other would be. Observe
here, his ears are open to the righteous, but
his eyes are on them too : They have not
so his ear as blindly to give them what they
ask, whether it be fit or no, but his eye is on
them, to see and consider their estate, and to
know better than themselves what is best, and
accordingly to answer. This is no prejudice,
but a great privilege and happiness of his chil-
dren, that they have a Father that knows what is
fit for them, and withholds no good from them.
And this commutation and exchange of our
requests a Christian observing, may usually
* Si uon ad voluntatem> ad utilitatcm.
find out the particular answer of his prayers;
and if sometimes, he doth not, then his best
way is not to subtilize and muse himself much
in that, but rather to keep on in the exercise,
knowing (as the apostle speaks in 'another
case) this for certain, "that their labour shall
not be in vain in the Lord," 1 Cor. xv. ult.
and as the prophet hath it, Isa. xlv. 19, " He
hath not said unto the house of Jacob, Seek
ye me in vain."
3. Only this we should always remember,
not to set bounds and limits to the Lord in
point of time, to set him a day, that thou
wilt attend so long and no longer. How pa-
tiently will some men bestow long attendance
on others, where they expect some very poor
good or courtesy at their hands ! But we are
very brisk and hasty with him, who never de-
lays us but for our good, to ripen those mer-
cies for us, that we, as foolish children, would
pluck while they are green, and have neither
that sweetness and goodness in them which
they shall have in his time. All his works
are done in their season. Were there no-
thing to check our impatience but his great-
ness, and the greatness of those things we
ask for, and our own unworthiness, these
might curb them, and persuade us how rea-
sonable it is that we wait. He is a King
well worth waiting on ; and there is in the
very waiting on him an honour and happiness
far above us : And the things we seek are
great, Forgiveness of sins, evidence of sonship
and heirship ; heirship of a kingdom ; and
we, condemned rebels, born heirs of the bot-
tomless pit. And shall such as we be in
such haste with such a Lord in so great re-
quests ! But further, the attendance that
this person enforces, is sweetened by the con-
sideration of his wisdom and love, that he
hath foreseen and chosen the very hour for
each mercy fit for us, and will not slip it a
moment. Never any yet repented their
waiting, but found it fully recompensed with
the opportune answer, in such a time as then
they are forced to confess was the only best.
/ waited patiently, says the Psalmist, in
waiting I waited, but it was all well bestow-
ed, He inclined to me and heard my cry,
brought me up, &c. Psal. xl. 1 ; and then
he afterwards falls into admiration of the
Lord's method, his wonderful workings and
thoughts to us-ward. " While I was waiting
and saw nothing, thy thoughts were towards
and for me, and thou didst then work when
thy goodness was most remarkable and won-
derful."
When thou art in great affliction, outward
or inward, thou thinkest (it may be) he re-
gards thee not ; yea, but he doth. Thou
art his gold, he knows the time of refining
thee, and then taking thee out of the furnace ;
he is versed and skilful in that work. Thou
sayest, " I have long cried for power against
shi, and for some evidence of pardon, and find
THE FIRST EPISTLE OJ PETER.
181
no answer to either :" yet leave him not,
he never yet cast away any that sought him,
and stayed by him, and resolved, whatsoever
came on it, to lie at his footstool, and to wait,
were it all their lifetime, for a good word or
a good look from him. And they choose
well that make that their great desire and ex-
pectation ; for one of his good words or looks
will make them up, and make them happy
for ever ; and as he is truth itself, they are
sure not to miss of it, Blessed are all they
that icait for him. And thou that sayest,
thou canst not find pardon of sin, and power
against it ; yet consider whence are those de-
sires of both, that thou once didst not care
for. Why dost thou hate that sin thou once
didst love, and art troubled and burthenecl
pith the guilt of it, under which thou went-
est so easily, and didst not feel before ? Are
not these something of his own work ? Yes,
sure. And know he will not leave it un-
finished, nor forsake the work of his hands,
Psal. cxxxviii. 8. His eye may be on thee,
though thou seest him not, and his ear open
to thy cry, though, for the present, he speaks
not to thee as thou desirest. It is not said
that his children always see and hear him
sensibly ; but yet when they do not, he is be-
holding them and hearing them graciously,
and will shew himself to them, and answer
them seasonably.
David says, Psal xxii. 2, " I cry in the
day-time, and thou hearest not ; and in the
night season, and am not silent ;" yet wil
he not entertain hard thoughts of Go 3, nor
conclude against him ; on the contrary, ac-
knowledges, thou art holy, ver. 3. where, by
holiness, is meant his faithfulness (I con
ceive) to his own, as follows, that he inhabits
the praises of Israel, to wit, for the favours
he hath showed his people, as ver. 4, Our
fathers trusted in thee.
Let the Lord's open ear persuade us to
make much use of it. * Be much in thi;
sweet and fruitful exercise of prayer, togethe:
and apart, in the sense of these three consi-
derations mentioned above ; the duty, the
dignity, and the utility of prayer.
1. The duty : It is due to the Lord to be
worshipped and acknowledged thus, as thi
fountain of good. How will men crouch am
bow one to another upon small requests ; am
shall he only be neglected by the most, fron
whom all have life, and breath, and al
things ? as the apostle speaks in his sermons
Acts xvii. 25. And then,
2. Consider the dignity of this, to be ad
mitted into so near converse with the highes
Majesty. Were there nothing to follow, m
answer at all, prayer pays itself in the ex
cellency of its nature, and the sweetness tha
the soul finds in it. Poor wretched man, to
be admitted into heaven while he is on earth,
and there to come and speak his mind freely
* Cla\ is diei et sera n.xrtU.
0 the Lord of heaven and earth, as his
friend, as his Father ! to empty all his
complaints into his bosom, to refresh his
soul in his God, wearied with the follies and
niseries of the world ! Where there is any-
hing of his love, this is a privilege of the
lighest sweetness ; for they that love find
much delight to discourse together, and
count all hours short, and think the day runs
too fast, that is so spent ; and they that are
much in this exercise, the Lord doth impart
his secrets much to them, Psal. xxv. 14.
And,
3. Consider, again, it is the most profit-
able exercise ; no lost time, as profane hearts
judge it, but only gained. All blessings
attend this work ; it is the richest traffic in
the world, for it trades with heaven, and
brings home what is most precious there.
And as holiness fits to prayer, so prayer be-
friends holiness, increases it much. No-
thing so refines and purifies the soul as fre-
quent prayer. If the often conversing with
wise men doth so teach and advance the soul
in wisdom, what then will the converse of
God ? This makes the soul to despise the
things of the world and, in a manner, makes
it divine ; winds up the soul from the earth,
acquainting it with delights that are infinitely
sweeter.
The natural heart is full stuffed with pre-
judices against the way of holiness, that dis-
suade and detain it ; and therefore the holy
Scriptures are most fitly much in this point,
of asserting the true advantage of it to
the soul, and in removing those mistakes it
has of that way.
Thus here, and to press it more home,
ver. 10, &c. the apostle, having used the
Psalmist's words, now follows it forth in his
own, and extends what was said concerning
the particular way of meekness and love, &c.
in the general doctrine, to all the paths of
righteousness.
The main conclusion is, that happiness is
the certain consequent and fruit of holiness ;
all good, even outward good, so far as it
holds good, and is not inconsistent with a
higher good. If we did believe this more,
we should feel it more, and so, upon feeling
and experiment, believe it more strongly.
All the heavy judgments we feel or fear, are
they not the fruit of our own ways, of pro-
faneness, and pride, and malice, and abound-
ing ungodliness ? All cry out of hard
times, evil days ; and yet, who is taking the
right way to better them ? Yea, who is
not still helping to make them worse ? Are
we not ourselves the greatest enemies of oui
own peace ? Who looks either rightly back-
ward, reflecting on his former ways, or rightly
1 forward, to direct his way better that is be-
i fore him ? Who either says, What have I
\ 'tone ? Jer. viii. G, or What ought I to do?
\ Act< xvi. 30. And indeed, the one of these
182
A COMMENTARY UPOM
depends on the other,* / considered my
ways, (says David) turned them over and
over, (as the word is,) and then I turned my
feel unto thy testimonies, Psalm cxix. 59.
Are there any, for all the judgments fallen
on us, or that threaten us, returning apace
with regret and hatred of sin ; hastening un-
to God, and mourning and weeping as they
go ; bedewing each step with their tears ?
Yea, where is that newness of life that the
word has called for so long, and now the
word and the rod together are so loud calling
for ? Who more refraining his tongue
from evil, and his lips from guile ; chang-
ing oaths, and lies, and calumnies, into a
new language, into prayers, and reverent
speaking of God, and joining a suitable con-
sonant carriage ? Who is eschewing evil
and doing good, labouring to be fertile in
holiness, to bring forth much fruit to God ?
This were the way to see good days indeed ;
this is the way to the longest life, the only
long life and length of days, one eternal day,
as St Augustin on these words, One day
in thy courts is better than a thousand,
Psal. Ixxxix. 10. Millia dierum desiderant
homines, et multum volunt hie vivere ; con-
temnant millia dierum, desiderent unum,
qui non habet ortum et occasum, cui non
cedit hesternus, quern non urget crastinus.
The reason added is above all exception,
it is supreme, The eyes of the Lord, &c.
If he that made times and seasons, and com-
mands and forms them as he will, if he can
give good days, or make men happy, then
the only way to it, sure, must be the way of
his obedience ; to be in the constant favour
of the Great King, and still in his gracious
thoughts ; to have his eye and ear, if this
will serve the turn, (and if this do it not, I
pray you what will ?) then the righteous man
is the only happy man, For the eyes of the
Lord are upon him, &c. Surer happy days
may be expected hence, than theirs that draw
them from the aspect of the stars ; the eyes
of the Father of lights benigiily beholding
them, the triune aspect of the blessed Tri-
nity. The love he carries to them draws
his eye still towards them ; there is no for-
getting of them, nor slipping of the fit sea-
son to do them good ; his mind, I may say,
runs on that ; he sees how it is with them,
and receives their suits gladly, rejoicing to
put favours upon them. He is their assur-
ed Friend, yea, he is their Father : What
then can they want ? Surely they cannot
miss of any good that his love and power
can help them to.
But his face is against them that do
evil.} So our happiness and misery are in
his face, his looks. Nothing so comfortable
as his favourable face, nothing so terrible
again as his face ; his anger, as the He-
brew word is often taken, that signifies his
* CoRsilium futurum ex prjeterito venit. SKV,
face: And yet, how many sleep sound
under this misery ! But believe, it is a
dead and a deadly sleep ; the Lord standing
in enmity with thee, and yet thy soul at
ease ! Pitiful accursed ease ! I regard
not the differences of your outward estate ;
that is not a thing worth the speaking of
If thou be poor and base, and in the world's
eye but a wretch, and withal under the ha-
tred of God, as being an impenitent harden-
ed sinner, those other things are nothing ;
this is the top, yea, the tola) sum of thy
misery : Or, be thou beautiful, or rich, or
noble, or witty, &c. or all of these together,
or what thou wilt, but, is the face of tlie
Lord against thee ?* think as thou wilt,
thy estate is not to be envied, but lamented.
I cannot say, Much good do it thee, with
all thy enjoyments ; for it is sure they can
do thee no good ; and if thou dost not be-
lieve this now, the day is at hand wherein
thou shall be forced to believe it, finding it
then irrevocably true. If you will, you may
still follow the things of the world, walk
after the lusts of your own hearts, neglect
God, and please yourselves ; but, as Solo-
mon's word is of judgment, Eccl. ix. 2,
Remember that the face of the Lord is
against thee, and that in judgment he shall
unveil it, and let thee see it against thee.
Oh ! the most terrible of all sights !
The godly often do not see the Lord's
favourable looks, while lie is eyeing them ;
and the wicked usually do not see nor per-
ceive, neither will believe, that his face is
against them : But, besides that the day of
full discovery is coming, the Lord doth
sometimes let both the one and the other
know somewhat how he stands affected to-
wards them. In peculiar deliverances and
mercies, he tells his own, that he forgets
them not, but both sees and hears them,,
when they think he does neither, after that
loving and gracious manner they desire, and
is here meant ; and sometimes he sets forth
glances of his bright countenance, darts in
a beam upon their souls, that is more worth
than many worlds. And, on the other side,
he is pleased sometimes to make it known
that his face is against the wicked, either by
remarkable outward judgments, which to
them are the vent of his just enmity against
them, or to some he speaks it more home, in
horrors and affrights of conscience, which to
them are earnests and pledges of their full
misery, that inheritance of woe reserved, as
the joys and comforts of believers are of their
inheritance of glory.
Therefore, if you have any belief of these
things, be persuaded, be entreated, to for-
sake the way of ungodliness. Do not flatter
yourselves, and dream of escaping; when
you hear of outward judgments on your
neighbours and brethren, tremble and be
* Splendida miserix
VER. 13.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OP PETER.
183
humbled. Remember our Saviour's words,
" Think ye that those on whom the tower of
Siloam fell were greater sinners than others ?
I tell you, nay : but except ye repent, ye
shall all likewise perish," Luke xiii. 1 — 5.
This seeming harsh word, He that was wis-
dom and sweetness itself uttered, and even in
it spoke like a Saviour ; he speaks of perish-
ing, that they might not perish, and presses
repentance by the-heavy doom of impenitence.
When you hear of this, there is none of
you would willingly choose it, that the
Lord's face should be against you, although
upon very high offers made to you of other
things. You think, I know, that the very
sound of it is somewhat fearful ; and, on
the other side, have possibly some confused
notion of his favour, as a thing desirable ;
and yet do not bestir yourselves, to avoid the
one, and inquire after the other, which is cer-
tainly by reason of your unbelief. For if you
think of the love of God, as his word speaks
of it, and as you will say you do, whence is
it, I pray you, that there is no trifle in this
world that will not take more deeply with
you, and which you follow not with more
earnestness, than this great business of re-
conciliation with God, in order to your find-
ing his face, not only not against you, but
graciously towards you ; His eyes upon
you, and his ears open to your prayer.
Your blessedness is not, no, (believe it,)
it is not where most of you seek it, in things
below ; how can that be ? It must bs a
higher good must make you happy. While
you labour and sweat for it in any thing
under the sun, your pains run all to waste ;
you seek a happy life in the region of death.
Here, here it is alone, in the love and favour
of God, to have his countenance and friend-
ship, and free access and converse ; and this
is nowhere to be found but in the ways of
holiness.
VKR. 13. And who is he that will harm you, if you
be followers of that which is good ?
THIS the Apostle adds, as a further rea-
son of the safety and happiness of that way
he points out, from its own nature. There
is .something even intrinsical in a meek, and
upright, and holy carriage, that is apt, in
part, to free a man from many evils and
mischiefs that the ungodly are exposed to,
and do naturally draw upon themselves.
Your spotless and harmless deportment will
much bind up the hands even of your ene-
mies, and sometimes, possibly, somewhat
allay and cool the malice of your hearts,
that they cannot so rage against you as
otherwise they might. It will be somewhat
strange and monstrous to rage against the
innocent ; Who is he that will harm you ?
&c. Here are two things : 1. The carriage ;
2. The advantage of it.
I Their carriage expressed, followers,
&c. Or, as the word is, Imitators of that
which is good.
There is an imitation of men that is im-
pious and wicked, taking the copy of their
sins ; again, an imitation, that, though not
so grossly evil, yet is poor and serrile, being
in mean things, yea sometimes descending
to imitate the very imperfections -of others,
as fancying some comeliness in them ; as
some of Basil's scholars, that imitated his
slow speaking, which he had a little in the
extreme, and could not help : but this is
always laudable, and worthy of the best
minds, to be imitators of that which is
good, wheresoever they find it. For that
stays not in any man's person, as the ulti-
mate pattern, but arises to the highest grace,
being man's nearest likeness to God, his
image and resemblance ; and so, following
the example of the saints in holiness, we
look higher than them, and consider their,
as receivers, but God as the first owner and
dispenser of grace, bearing his stamp and
superscription, .and belonging peculiarly to
him, in what hand soever it be found, as
carrying the mark of no other owner, but
his only.
The word of God hath our copy in its
perfection, and very legible and clear ; and
so the imitation of good, is the complete rule
of it, is the regulating of our ways by the
word : But even there we find, besides ge-
neral rules, the particular tracks of life of
divers eminent holy persons, and those on
purpose set before us, that we may -know
holiness not to be an idle imaginary thing,
but that men have really been holy : though
not altogether sinless, yet holy and spiritual
in some good measure ; that there have been
those who have " shined as lights amidst a
perverse generation," as greater stars in a
dark night, and yet men, as St. James says
of Elias, like us in nature, op.iiHi-ra.6iio, and
the frailty of it : subject to like passions
as we are, James, v. 17- Why may we
not then aspire to be holy, as they were, and
attain to it, although we should fall short of
the degree ? Yet not stopping at a small
measure, but running further, pressing still
forward toward the mark, Phil. iii. 14 j
following them in the way they went, though
at a distance ; not reaching them, and yet
walking, yea, running after them as fast as
we can : Not judging of holiness by our
own sloth and natural averseness, taking it
for a singularity fit only for rare extraordi-
nary persons, such as Prophets and Apostles
were, or as the Church of Rome fancies
those to be, to whom it vouchsafes a room
in the roll of saints. Do you not know that
holiness is the only via regia, this follow-
ing of good, that path wherein all the chil-
dren of God must walk, one following after
another, each striving to equal, and, if they
could, to outstrip even those they look on .ts
1S4
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. in.
most advanced in it ? This is, amongst
many other, a misconceit in the Romish
Church, that they seem to make holiness a
kind of impropriate good, that the common
sort can have little share in : almost all piety
being shut up within cloister-walls, as its
only fit dwelling. Yet it hath not liked
their lodging, it seems, but is flown over the
walls away from them ; for there is little of
it even there to be found ; but however,
their opinion of it places it there, as having
little to do abroad in the world.
\Vheieas the truth is, that all Christians
have this for their common task, though
some are under more peculiar obligations to
study this one copy. Look on the rule of
holiness, and be followers of it, and followers
or imitators one of another, so far as their
carriage agrees with that primitive copy, as
writ after it ; Be ye followers of me, p./twrai,
says the Apostle, even to the meanest of
Christians amongst those he wrote to, but
thus, as I am of Christ, 1 Cor. xi. 1.
Is it thus with us ? Are we zealous and
emulous followers of that which is good, ex-
citing each other by our example to a holy
and Christian conversation, provoking one
another (so ths Apostle's word is) to love
and to good ivorks ? Heb. x. 24. Or,
Are not the most, mutual corrupters of each
other, and of the places and societies where
they live : some leading and others follow-
ing, in their ungodliness ? Not regarding
the course of those that are most desirous to
walk holily, or, if at all, doing it with a
corrupt and evil eye ; not to study and fol-
low what is good in them, their way of ho-
liness, but to espy any the least wrong step,
to take any exact notice of any imperfection,
and sometimes only charged on them by
malignant falsehood ? and by this, either to
reproach religion, or to hearten or harden
themselves in their irreligion and ungodli-
ness, seeking warrant for their own willing
licentiousness in the unwilling failings of
God's children.
And, in their converse with such as them-
selves, they,are following their profane way,
and flattering and blessing one another in it.
" What need we be so precise ? and, if I
should not do as others, they would laugh
at me, I should pass for a fool." Well,
thou wilt be a fool in the most wretched
kind, rather than be accounted! one by such
as are fools, and know not at all wherein true
wisdom consists.
Thus are the most carried with the stream
of this wicked world, their own inward cor-
ruption easily agreeing and suiting with it ;
every man, as a drop, falling into a torrent,
and easily made one, and running along with
it into that dead sea where it empties itself.
But those, whom the Lord hath a pur-
pose to sever and save, he carries in a con-
trary course, ever, to that violent stream ; and
these are the students of holiness, the fol-
lowers of good ; that bend their endeavours
thus, and look on all sides diligently, on
what may animate and advance them ; on
the example of the saints in former times,
and on the good they espy in those that live
together with them ; and, above all, study,
ing that perfect rule in the Scriptures, and
that highest and first pattern, there so often
set before them, even the Author of that rule,
the Lbrcl himself; studying to be holy as
he is holy, to be bountiful and merciful as
their heavenly Father ;* and in all labour-
ing to be, as the Apostle exhorts, followers
of God as dear children, Eph. v. 1,2. As
children that are beloved of their father, and
do love and reverence him ; who therefore
will be ambitious to be like him ; and par
ticularly aim at the following any virtues 01
excellency in him : Now, thus it is most
reasonable in the children of God, their
Father being the highest and best of all ex-
cellency and perfection.
But this excellent pattern is drawn down
nearer their view in the Son Jesus Christ ;
where we have the highest example made
low, and yet losing nothing of its perfection.
So that we may study God in man, and read
all our lesson, without any blot, even in our
own nature. And this is truly the only way
to be the best proficients in this following
and imitating of all good. In him we may
learn all, even those lessons that men most
despise ; God teaching them, by acting them,
and calling us to follow ; Learn of me, for
I am meek and lowly in heart, Matt. xi.
29. But this is too large a subject. Would
you advance in all grace ? study Christ
much, and you shall find not only the pat-
tern in him, but strength and skill from him
to follow it.
2. The advantage ; Who is he that will
harm you ?
The very name of it says so much ; a
good, worthy the following for itself: But
there is this further to persuade it, that be-
sides higher benefit, it oftentimes cuts off the
occasions of present evils and disturbances,
that otherwise are incident to men. Who is
he ? Men, even evil men, will often be over-
come by cur blameless and harmless be-
haviour.
1. In the life of a godly man, taken to-
gether in the whole body and frame of it,
there is a grave beauty or comeliness, that
oftentimes forces some kind of reverence and
respect to it, even in ungodly minds.
2. Though a natural man cannot love them
spiritually, as graces of the Spirit of God ;
(for so only the partakers of them are lovers
of them ;) yet he may have, and usually
hath, a natural liking and esteem of some
kind of virtues which are in a Christian, and
VER. 13.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
185
are not, in their right nature, in any other
to be found ; though a moralist may have
somewhat like them, meekness, and patience,
and charity, &nd fidelity, &c.
3. These, and other such like graces, do
make a Christian life so inoffensive and
calm, that, except where the matter of their
God or religion is made the crime, malice
itself can scarce tell where to fasten its teeth
or lay hold, or hath nothing to pull by,
though it would ; yea. oftentimes, for want
of work or occasion?!, it will fall asleep for
a while ; whereas ungodliness and iniquity,
sometimes by breaking out into notorious
crimes, draws out the sword of civil justice,
and where it rises not so high, yet it involves
men in frequent contentions and quarrels,
Prov. xxiii. 29. How often are the lusts,
and pride, and covetousness of men, paid
with dangers, and troubles, and vexations,
that, besides what is abiding them hereafter,
do even in this present life spring out of
them ? Now, these the godly escape, by
their just, and mild, and humble carriage.
Whence so many jars and strifes amongst
the greatest part, but from their unchristian
hearts and lives, from their hists that war
in their members ? James iv. 1 ; their self-
love and unmortified passions ? One will
abate nothing of his will, nor the other of
his. Thus, where pride and passion meet
on both sides, it cannot be but a fira will
foe kindled ; when hard flints strike to-
gether, the sparks will fly about ; but a soft
mild spirit is a great preserver of its own
peace, kills the power of contest ; as wool-
packs, or such like soft matter, must deaden
the force of bullets. A soft answer turns
aieay wrath, says Solomon, Prov. xv. 1 ;
beats it off. breaks the bone, as he says ; the
very strength of it, as the bones are in the body.
And thus we find it, they that think them-
selves high spirited, and will bear least, as
they speak, are often, even by that, forced to
bow most, or to burst under it ; while hu-
mility and meekness escape many a burden,
and many a blow, always keeping peace with-
in, and often without too.
Reflection, 1. If this were duly consi-
dered, might it not do somewhat to induce
your minds to love the way of religion, for
that it would so much abate the turbulency
an;l unquietness that abound in the lives ol
men ; a great part whereof the most do pro-
cure by the earthliness and distemper of their
own carnal minds, and the disorder in their
ways that arises thence ?
2. You, whose hearts are set towards God,
and your feet entered into his ways, I hope
will find no reason for a change, but many
reasons to commend and endear that way to
you every day more than another ; and,
amongst the rest, even this, that in them,
you escape many, even present, mischiefs,
that you see the ways of the world are ful
of. And, if you will be careful to ply your
rule, and study your copy better, you shall
find it more so. The more you follow that
which is good, the more shall you avoid a
number of outward evils, that are ordinarily
drawn on upon men by their own enormities
and passions. Keep as close as you can to
the genuine, even track of a Christian walk ;
and labour for a prudent and meek beha-
viour, adorning your holy profession, and this
shall adorn you, and sometimes gain those
that are ivithout, 1 Cor. ix. 21 ; yea, even
your enemies shall be constrained to ap-
prove it.
It is known how much. the spotless lives
and patient sufferings of the primitive Chris-
tians did sometimes work upon their behold-
ers, yea, on their p3rsecutors ; and persuaded
some that would not share with them in
their religion, yet to speak and write for them.
Seeing, then, that reason and experience
do jointly aver it, that die lives of men, con-
versant together, have generally a great in-
fluence one upon another ; for example is an
animated or living rule, and is both the
shortest and most powerful way of teaching ;
let me graft an exhortation or two on this
obvious remark.
1. Whosoever are in an exemplary or lead-
ing place in relation to others, be it many or
few, be ye first followers of God. Set be-
fore you the rule of holiness, and withal, the
best and highest examples of those that have
walked according to it, and then you will be
leading in it ; and those that are und*er you,
and bent to follow you in so doing, will fol-
low that which is good, \ Thess. v. 15.
Lead and draw them on, by admonishing,
and counselling, and exhorting, but espe-
cially by walking — Pastors, be [TOITO.] en-
samples to the flock, or models, as our Apos-
tle hath it, 1 Pet. v. 8, that they may be
stamped aright, taking the impression of your
lives. Sound doctrine alone will not serve ;
though the water you give your flocks be
pure, yet if you lay spotted rods before them,
it will bring forth spotted lives in them ;
either teach not at all, or teach by the rhe-
toric of your lives.* — Ye, elders, be such in
grave and pious carriage, whatsoever be your
years ; for young men may be so, and pos-
sibly, gray hairs may have nothing under
them but gaddishness and folly many years
old, habituated and inveterate ungodliness.
— Parents and masters, let your children and
servants read in your lives the life and power
of godliness, the practice of piety ; not ly-
ing in your windows or corners of your houses,
and confined within the clasp of the book,
bearing that or any such like title, but shin,
ing in your lives.
2. You that are easily receptive of the im-
pression of example, beware of the stamp of
unholiness, and a carnal, formal course of
* H ix ^iSxirxsiv, «r<*/ TiVif,
188
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. in.
profession, whereof the examples are most
abounding ; but, though they be fewer that
bear the lively image of God impressed on
their hearts, and expressed in their actions,
yet study these, and be followers of those,
as they are of Christ, 1 Cor. iv. 16. I
know you will espy much irregular and un-
sanctified carriage in us that are set up for
the ministry ; and if you look round, you
will find the world lying in wickedness ;
yet, if there be any that have any sparks of
dirine light in them, converse with those and
follow them.
3. And generally, this I say to all, for
none are so complete, but they may espy
some imitable and emulable good, even in
meaner Christians ; acquaint yourselves with
the word, the rule of holiness ; and then,
with an eye to that, look on one another, and
be zealous of progress in the ways of holiness.
Choose to converse with such as may excite
you and advance you, both by their advice
and example. Let not a corrupt generation,
in which you live, be the worse by you, nor
you the worse by it. As far as you necessa-
rily engage in some conversation with those
that are unholy, let them not pull you into
the mire, but, if you can, help them out ;
and let not any custom of sin about you, by
familiar seeing, gain upon you, so as to think
it fashionable and comely ; yea, or so as not
to think it deformed and hateful — Know,
that you must row against the stream of
wickedness in the world, unless you would
be carried with it to the dead sea, or lake of
perdition ; take that grave counsel, given
Horn. xii. 2, be not conformed to thin world,
but be ye transformed by the renewing of
your mind, which is the daily advancement
in renovation, purifying and refining every
day.
Now, in this way you shall have sweet
inward peace and joy, and some outward
advantage too ; then men, except they are
monstrously cruel and malicious, will not so
readily harm you. It will abate much of
their rage ; but however, if you do not escape
suffering by your holy carriage, yea, if you
suffer even for it, yet in that are ye happy,
as the Apostle immediately adds.
VER. 14. But and if ye suffer for righteousness
sake, happy are ye : and be not afraid of their
terror, neither be troubled.
IN this verse we may observe two things :
1st, Even in the most blameless way of a
Christian's life, his suffering supposed. 2d/y,
His happiness, even in suffering, asserted.
1. Suffering is supposed notwithstanding
of righteousness, yea, for righteousness;
and that not as a rare unusual accident, but
as the frequent lot of Christians ; as Luther
calls persecution, mains genius Evangelii.
And we being forewarned of this, as not only
the possible, but the frequent lot of the saints,
ought not to hearken to the false prophecies
of our own self-love, that divines what it
would gladly have, and easily persuades us
to believe it. Think not that any prudence
will lead you by all oppositions and malice
of an ungodly world ; but many winter blasts
will meet you in the most inoffensive way of
religion, if you keep straight to it. Suffer-
ing and war with the world is a part, of the
godly man's portion here, which seems hard,
but, take it altogether, it is sweet ; none in
their wits will refuse that legacy entire, In
the world ye shall have trouble, but in me
ye shall have peace, John xvi. ult.
Look about you, and see if there be any
estate of man, or course of life, exempted
from troubles. The greatest are usually
subject to greatest vexations ; as the largest
bodies have the largest shadows attending
them. We need not tell nobles and rich
men, that contentment doth not dwell in
great palaces and titles, nor in full coffers ;
they feel it, that they are not free of much
anguish and molestation, and that a propor-
tionable train of cares, as constantly as of
servants, follows great place and wealth.
Riches, and trouble, or noise, are signified
by the same Hebrew word, compare Job
xxxvi. 19, with xxx. 24 ; and kings find thai
their crowns, that are set so richly with
diamonds without, are lined with thorns
within.
And, if we speak of men that arc ser-
vants to unrighteousness, besides what is
to come, are they not forced to suffer amongst
the service of their lusts, the distempers that
attend unhealthy intemperance ; and poverty
that dogs luxury at the heels ; and the fit
punishment of voluptuous persons in pain,
ful diseases, that either quickly cut the
thread of life, or make their aged bones full
of the sins of their youth, Job xx. 11?
So that, on the whole, take what way you
will, there is no place nor condition so fenc-
ed and guarded, but public calamities, or
personal gris's, find a way to reach us.
Seeing then we must suffer, whatever
course'- we take, this kind of suffering, to
suffer for righteousness, is far the best.
VFhat Julius Cassar said, of doing ill,* we
may well say of suffering ill, if it must be,
it is best to be for a kingdom. And those
are the terms on which Christians are called
to suffer for righteousness ; if ice tvill reign
with Christ, certain it is we must suffer
with him ; and, if we do suffer with him,
it is as certain we shall reign with him, '2
Tim. ii. 12. And therefore such sufferers
are happy.
But I shall prosecute this suffering for
righteousness, only with relation to the
Apostle's present reasoning. His conclusion
he establishes : 1. Fr.om the favour and pro-
tection of God. 2. From the nature of the
thing itself. Now, we would consider the
* Si violandum est jus, regnandi causa violandum.
VEU. 14.J
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
187
consistence of this supposition with those that it often proves otherwise ; that, notwith
1st, From the favour or protection of God.
standing the righteous carriage of Christians,
yea even because of it, they suffer much.
The eyes of the Lord being on the righteous It is a resolved case, all that will live god-
tot their good, and his ear open to their ly must suffer persecution, 2 Tim. iii. 12.
prayer ; how is it, that, notwithstanding It meets a Christian in his entry to the way
all this favour and inspection, they are so of the kingdom, and goes along all the way.
much exposed to suffering ; and, even for No sooner canst thou begin to seek the way
the regard and affection they bear towards
him, suffering for righteousness ? These
seem not to agree well, yet they do.
It is not said that his eye is so on them,
as that he will never see them afflicted, nor
have them suffer any thing ; no : But this
is their great privilege and comfort in suffer-
ing, that his gracious eye i* then upon them,
and sees their trouble, and his ear towards
them ; not so as to grant them an exemption
(for that they will not seek for,) but season-
able deliverance, and, in the mean while,
strong support, as is evident in, that xxxivth
Psalm. If his eye be always on them, he
sees them suffer often, for their afflictions
are many, ver. 19 ; and if his ear be to
them, he hears many sighs and cries pressed
out by sufferings : And they are content ;
this is enough, yea, better than not to suffer ;
they suffer, and often directly for him ; but
he sees it all, takes perfect notice of it,
therefore it is not lost. And they are forced
to cry, but none of their cries escape his ear ;
he hears and he manifests that he sees and
hears, for he delivers them ; and till he does
that, he keeps them from being crushed under
the weight of the suffering : He keeps all
his bones, not one of them is broken, Psal.
xxxiv. 20.
He sees, yea points and provides, these
conflicts for his choicest servants : he sets
his champions to encounter the malice of
Satan and the world, for his sake, to give
proof of the truth and the strength of their
love to him for whom they suffer, and to
overcome even in suffering.
He is sure of his designed advantages out
of the sufferings of his church and saints for
his name ; he loses nothing, and they lose
nothing : but their enemies, when they rage
most, and prevail most, are ever the greatest
losers. His own glory grows, the graces ol
his people grow, yea, their very number grows
and that sometimes most by their greatest
sufferings ; it was evident in the first ages of
the Christian churches ; where were the glory
of so much invincible love and patience, il
they had not been so put to it ?
2dly, For the other, that argument from
the nature of the thing : It is certain that,
when it is intimated that the said following
of good would preserve from harm, it speaks
what it is apt to do, and what, in some
measure, it often doth ; but then, consi-
dering the nature of the world, its enmi-
ty against God and religion, that strong
poison in the serpent's seed, it is not strange
o heaven, but the world will seek how to
•ex and molest thee, and make that way
grievous ; if no other way, by scoffs and
aunts, intended as bitter blasts to destroy
the tender blossom or bud of religion, or,
as Herod), to kill Christ newly bom. You
shall no sooner begin to inquire after God,
jut, twenty to one, they will begin to inquire
/ thou art gone mad. But if thou knowest
who it is whom thou hast trusted, 2 Tim.
12, and whom thou lovest, this is a small
matter. What though it were deeper and
sharper sufferings, yet still, if you suffer
for righteousness, happy are you :
Which is the second thing that was pro-
posed, and more particularly imports, 1.
That a Christian, under the heaviest load
of sufferings for righteousness, is yet still
happy, notwithstanding thesa sufferings.
2. That he is happier even by these sufferings.
And,
1st, All the sufferings and distresses of
this world are not able to destroy the happi-
ness of a Christian, nor diminish it ; yea,
they cannot at all touch it, it is out of their
reach. If it were built on worldly enjoyments,
then worldly deprivements and sufferings
might shake it, yea, might undo it ; when
those rotten props fail, that which rests on
them must fall. He that hath set his heart
on his riches, a few hours can make him
miserable ; he that lives on popular applause,
it is almost in any body's power to rob him of
his happiness, a little slight or disgrace un-
does him ; or, whatsoever the soul fixes on of
these moving unfixed things, pluck them
from it, and it must cry after them, Ye have
taken away my gods.
But the believer's happiness is safe, out
of the reach of shot ; he may be impoverish-
ed, and imprisoned, and tortured, and kill-
ed ; but this one thing is out of hazard, he
cannot be miserable ; still, in the midst of
all these, subsists he a happy man. If
all friends be shut out, yet the visits of the
Comforter may be frequent, bringing him
glad tidings from heaven, and communing
with him of the love of Christ, and solacing
him in that. It was a great word for a hea-
then to say of his false accusers, Kill me
they may, but they cannot hurt me : How
much more confidently may the Christian
say so ! Banishment he fears not, for his
country is above ; nor death, for that sends
him home into that country.
The believing soul having hold of Jesus
Christ, can easily despisa the best and the
188
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. in.
worst of the world, and bid defiance to all
that is in it ; can share with the Apostle in
that of his, / am persuaded that neither
death nor life shall separate me from the
love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our
Lord, Rom. viii. ult. Yea, what though
the frame of the world were dissolving and
falling to pieces ! This happiness holds,
and is not stirred by it ; for it is in that
Rock of eternity, that stirs not, nor changes
at all.
Our main work, truly, if you will believe
it, is this, to provide this immoveable hap-
piness, that amidst all changes, and losses,
and sufferings, may hold firm. You may be
free, choose it rather ; not to stand to the
courtesy of any thing about you, nor of any
man, whether enemy or friend, for the tenure
of your happiness. Lay it higher and surer,
and, if you be wise, provide such a peace as
will remain untouched in the hottest flame ;
such a light as will shine in the deepest dun-
geon, and such a life as is safe even in death
itself; that life that is hid with Christ in
God, Col. iii. 3.
But if in other sufferings, even the worst
and saddest, the believer be still a happy
man, then more especially in those that are
the best kind, suffering for righteousness :
Not only do they not detract from his hap-
piness ; but,
2dly, They concur and give accession to
it ; he is happy even so by suffering ; as will
appear from the following considerations :
1. It is the happiness of a Christian, un-
til he attain perfection, to be advancing to-
wards it ; to be daily refining from sin, and
growing richer and stronger in the graces
that make up a Christian a new creature ; to
attain a higher degree of patience, and meek-
ness, and humility, to have the heart more
weaned from the earth, and fixed on heaven :
now, as other afflictions of the saints do help
them in those their sufferings for righteous-
ness, the unrighteousness and injurious deal-
ings of the world with them have a particular
fitness for this purpose. Those trials that
come immediately from God's own hand,
seem to bind to a patient and humble com-
pliance, with more authority, and, ( I may say)
necessity : There is no plea, no place for so
much as a word, unless it be directly and ex-
pressly against the Lord's own dealing ; but
unjust suffering at the hands of men, requires
some uncommon degrees of respect unto God,
without whose hand they cannot move ; so
that for his sake, and for reverence and love
to him, a Christian can go through those with
that mild evenness of spirit, that overcomes
even in suffering.
And there is nothing outward more fit to
persuade a man to give up with the world and
its friendship, than to feel much of its enmity
and malice ; and that directly venting itself
against religion, making that the very quarrel.
which is of all things dearest to a Christian,
and in highest esteem with him.
If the world should caress them, and smile
on them, they might be ready to forget their
home ; or at least to abate in the frequent
thoughts and fervent desires of it, and to tun?
into some familiarity with the world, and fa-
vourable thoughts of it, so as to let out some,
what of their hearts after it ; and thus grace
would grow faint by the diversion and call-
ing forth of the spirits : as in summer, in the
hottest and fairest weather, it is with the body.
It is a confirmed observation, by the ex-
perience of all ages, that when the Church
flourished most in outward peace and wealth,
it abated most of its spiritual lustre,* which
is its genuine and true beauty ; and, when"
it seemed most miserable by persecutions and
sufferings, it was most happy, in sincerity,
and zeal, and vigour of grace. When the
moon shines > brightest towards the earth, it
is dark heavenwards, and, on the contrary,
when it appears not, is nearest the sun, and
clear towards heaven.
2. Persecuted Christians are happy in act-
ing and evidencing, by those sufferings for
God, their love to him. Love delights in
difficulties, and grows in them : The more
a Christian suffers for Christ, the more he
loves him, and accounts him the dearer ; and
the more he loves him, still the more can he
suffer for him.
3. They are happy, as in testifying love
to Christ and glorifying him, so'in conformi-
ty with him, which is love's ambition. It
affects likeness and harmony at any rate. A
believer would readily take it as an affront,
that the world should be kind to him, that
was so harsh and cruel to his beloved Lord
and Master. Canst thou expect, or would-
est thou wish, smooth language from that
world that reviled thy Jesus, that called him
Beelzebub ? Couldst thou own and accept
friendship at his hands, that buffetted him,
and shed his blood ? Or, art thou rather
most willing to share with him, and of St.
Paul's mind, who executed his embassy in
chains, -\- Eph. vi. 20 ; and yet could boldly
say, Gal. vi. 14, God forbid that I should
ff lory in any thing save in the cross of Christ,
whereby the world is crucified unto tne} and
I unto the world.
4. Suffering Christians are happy in the
rich supplies of spiritual comfort and joy,
that in those times of suffering are usual : so
that as their sufferings for Christ do abound,
their consolations in him abound much more,
as the Apostle testifies, 2 Cor. i. 5. God is
speaking most peace to the soul when the
world speaks most war and enmity against it ;
and this compensates abundantly. When the
Christian lays the greatest sufferings men can
inflict in the balance, and the least glances
* Opibus major, virtutibus minor,
•j- H/>of£iu&> i> K/.ucr'i,
VEIl. 14.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
1SGF
of God's countenance in the other, he says,
it is worth all the enduring of these to enjoy
this ; says with David, Psal. cix. 28, Let
them curse, but bless thou ; let them frown,
but smile thou. And thus God usually doth ;
refreshes such as are prisoners for him with
visits, that they would buy again with the
hardest restraint and debarring of nearest
friends. The world cannot but misjudge
the state of suffering Christians ; it sees, as
St. Bernard speaks, their crosses, but not
their anointings. * Was not Stephen, think
you, in a happy posture, even in his enemies'
hands ? Was he afraid of the showers of
stones coming about his ears, that saw the
heavens opened, and Jesus standing on the
Father's right hand ? So little was he then
troubled with ihe stoning him, that, as the
text hath it, in the midst of them he fell
asleep, Acts vii. 55, 60.
If those sufferings be so small, that they
are weighed down even witn present comforts,
and so the Christian be happy in them in
that regard, how much more doth the weight
of glory, 2 Cor. iv. 17> surpass, that follows
these sufferings ? They are not worthy to
come in comparison ; they are as nothing to
that glory that shall be revealed, in the
Apostles' arithmetic. That, h is expression,
imports, [xayi'^ai,] when I have cast up the
sum of the sufferings of this present time,
this instant now, [?<> wv] they amount to just
nothing in respect of that glory, Rom. viii.
18. Now, these sufferings are happy, be-
cause they are the way to this happiness, and
pledges of it, and (if any thing do) they
raise the very degree of it : however, it is aii
exceeding excellent weight of glory ; the
Hebrew word that signifies glory, signifies
weight, yet the glories that are here are all
too light, T» tXa^ov, except in the weight of
cares and sorrows that attend them, but thai
hath the weight of complete blessedness ;
speak not of all the sufferings, nor of all the
prosperities of this poor life, nor of any thing
in it, as worthy of athonght, when that glory
is name'd ; yea, let not this life be called
life, when we mention that other life, that
our Lord, by his death, hath purchased for
us.
Be not afraid of their terror. ~\ No time,
nor place in the world, is so favourable to re-
ligion, that it is not still needful to arm a
Christian mind against the outward opposi-
tions and discouragements he shall meet with
in his way to heaven. This is the Apostle's
scope here ; and he doth it, Is;, By an as-
sertion ; 2dly, By an exhortation. The as-
sertion, that, in suffering for righteousness,
they are happy. The exhortation, agreeable
to the assertion, that they fear not. Why
should they fear any thing that are assured
* Vidcnt cruces nostras, unctiones noa vident.
ST. BERN.
of happiness, yea, that are the more happy
by those very things that seem most to be
feared ?
The words are in part borrowed from the
Prophet Isaiah, who relates them as the
Lord's words to him, and other godly per-
sons with him in that time, countermanding
in them that carnal distractful fear, that drove
a profane king and people to seek help, ra.
ther any where than in God, who was their
strength ; fear not their fear, but sanctify
the Lord, and let him be your fear, &c. Isa.
viii. 12, 13.
This the Apostle extends as an universal
rule for Christians in the midst of their great-
est troubles and dangers.
The things opposed here are, a perplexing
troubling fear of sufferings, as the soul's
distemper, and a sanctifying of God in the
heart, as the sovereign cure of it, and the
true principle of a healthful sound constitu-
tion of mind.
Natural fear, though not evil in itself, yet,
in the natural man, is constantly irregular
and disordered in the actings of it, still miss-
ing its due object, or measure, or both: either
running in a wrong channel, or overrunning
the banks. As there are no pure elements
to be found here in this lower part of the
world, but only in the philosopher's books,
(they define them indeed as pure, but they
find them no where,) thus we may speak of
our natural passions as not sinful in their na-
ture, yet in us that are naturally sinful, yea,
full of sin, they cannot escape the Tnixture
and alloy of it.
Sin hath put the soul into such an univer-
sal disorder, that it neither loves nor hates
what it ought, nor as it ought ; hath neither
right joy, nor sorrow, nor hope, nor fear ; a
very small matter stirs and troubles it ; and,
as waters that are stirred, ra^a^/irs, so the
word signifies, having dregs in the bottom,
become muddy and impure ; thus, the soul,
by carnal fear, is confused, and there is nei-
ther quiet nor clearness in it. A troubled
sea, as it cannot rest, so in its restlessness,
it cas's up mire, as the Prophet speaks, Isa.
Ivii. 20. Thus it is with the unrenewed heart
of man, the least blasts that arise disturb it,
and make it restless, and its own impurity
makes it cast up mire ; yea, it is never right
with him ; either he is asleep in carnal con-
fidence, or, being shaken out of that, he is
hurried and tumbled to and fro with carnal
fears : either in a lethargy, in a fever, or
trembling ague : When troubles are at a
[distance, he folds his hands, and takes ease
as long as it may be ; and then, being sur-
prised, when they come rushing on him, his
sluggish ease is paid with a surcharge of per-
plexing and affrighting fears. And, is not
this the condition of the most ?
Now, because those evils are not fully cur-
ui the believer but he is subject to-carnal
190
COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP, in
security, as David, / said in my prosperity,
I shall never be moved, Psal. xxx. 6 ; and
filled with undue fears and doubts in the ap-
prehensions or feeling of trouble, as he like-
wise, complaining, confesses the dejection and
disquietness of his soul ; and again, that he
had almost lost his standing, his feet had
well nigh slipt, Psal. Ixxiii. 2 ; therefore, it
is very needful to caution them often with
such words as these, Fear not their fear,
neither be ye troubled. It will be proper, if
you take it objectively, their fear, be not
afraid of the world's malice, or any thing it
can effect ; or it may be taken subjectively,
as the Prophet means, " Do not you fear af-
ter the manner of the world ; be not distrust-
fully troubled with any affliction that can be-
fal you." Sure it is pertinent in either sense,
or both together ; Fear not what they can
do, nor fear as they do.
If we look on the condition of men, our-
selves and others, are not the minds of the
greatest part continually tossed, and their lives
worn out betwixt vain hopes and fears, * pro-
viding incessantly new matter of disquiet to
themselves ?
Contemplative natures have always taken
notice of this grand malady in our nature,
and have attempted much the cure of it ; they
have bestowed much pains in seeking our pre-
scriptions and rules for the attainment of a
settled tranquillity of spirit, free from the
fears and troubles that perplex us ; but they
have proved but mountebanks, that give big
words enow, and do little or nothing, all phy-
sicians of no value, or of nothing, good for
nothing, as Job speaks (Job xiii. 4.) Some
things they have said well concerning the
outward causes of this inward evil, and of the
inefficacy of inferior outward things to help
it ; but they have not descended to the bot-
tom and inward cause of this our wretched
unquiet condition, much less ascended to the
true and only remedy of it. In this, divine
light is needful, and here we have it in the
following verse.
VBR 15. But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts.
And be ready always to give an answer to every
man that asketh you, a reason of the hope that is
in you, with meekness and fear.
IMPLYING the cause of all our fears and
troubles to be this, our ignorance and disre-
gard of God ; and the due knowledge and
acknowledgement of him to be the only esta-
blishment and strength of the mind.
In the words we may consider these three
things: 1. This respect of God, as it is here
expressed, Sanctify the Lord God. 2. The
seat of it, in your hearts. 3. The fruit of it,
the power that this, sanctifying God in the
heart, hath to rid that heart of those fears
and troubles to which it is here opposed as
their proper remedy.
* I tec inter Juliia vivimus et moriniui. •
1st, We have the respect to God, express-
ed by the word sanctify. He is hoyl, most
holy, the fountain of holiness ; it is he, he
alone, that powerfully sanctifies us, and then,
and not till then, we sanctify him. When
he hath made us holy, we know and confess
him to be holy ; we worship and serve our
holy God ; we glorify him with our whole
souls, and all our affections ; we sanctify
him, by acknowledging his greatness, and
power, and goodness ; and, which is here
more particularly intended, we do this by a
holy fear of him, and faith in him. These
confess his greatness, and power, and good-
ness, as the prophet is express, Sanctify
him, and let him be your fear and your
dread, Isai. viii. 13. And then he adds,
if thus you sanctify him, you shall further
sanctify him, He shall be your sanctuary :
You shall account him so, in believing in
him, and shall find him so, in his protect-
ing you ; you shall repose on him for safety :
And these particularly cure the heart of
undue fears.
2dly, We have the seat of this, with re-
spect to God, in your hearts. We are to
be sanctified in our words and actions, but
primely in our hearts, as the root and prin-
ciple of the rest. He sanctifies his own
throughout, 1 Thess. v. 23, makes theii
language and their lives holy, but, first and
most of all, their hearts ; and, as he chiefly
sanctifies it, it chiefly sanctities him. The
heart acknowledges and worships him often
when the tongue and body do not, and pos-
sibly cannot well join with it ; it fears, and
loves, and trusts in him, which properly the
outward man cannot do, though it does fol-
low and is acted on by these affections, and
so shares in them according to its capacity.
Beware of an external superficial sanctify- .
ing of God, for he takes it not so ; nay, he
will interpret that a profaning of him and
his name, Gal. vi. T, Be not deceived, God
is not mocked. He looks through all vi-
sages and appearances upon the heart ; sees
how it entertains him, and stands affected
to him. If it be possessed with reverence
and love, more than either thy tongue or
carriage can express, he graciously approves :
and if it be not so, all thy seeming worship
is but injury, and thy speaking of him is
but babbling, be thy discourse never so ex-
cellent ; yea, the more thou hast seemed to
sanctify God, while thy heart hath net been
chief in the business, thou shalt not, by such
service, have the less, but more fear and
trouble in the day of trouble, when it comes
upon thee. No estate is so far off from true
consolation, and so full of horrors, as that of
the rotten-hearted hypocrite ; his rotten heart
is sooner shaken to pieces than any other.
If you would have heart-peace in God, you
must have this heart-sanctifying of him. It
is the heart that is vexed and troubled willi
VEK. 15.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
191
fears : the disease is there, and if the pre-
scribed remedy reach not thither, it will do
no good. But let your hearts sanctify him,
and then he shall fortify and establish your
hearts, 1 Thess. iii. 13.
3dly, For the fruit of this holy affection ;
this sanctifying of God in the heart, com-
poses the heart, and frees it from fears.
1. In general, the turning of the heart to
consider and regard God, takes it off from
those vain, empty, windy things, that are
the usual causes and matter of its fears. It
feeds on wind, and therefore the bowels are
tormented within. The heart is subject to
disturbance, because it lets out itself to such
things, and lets in such things into itself as
are ever in motion, and full of instability
and restlessness ; and so it cannot be at
quiet till God come in and cast out these,
and keep the heart within, that it wander
out no more to them.
2. The particulars of this religious fear
and faith work particularly in this,
1. That fear, as greatest, overtops and
nullifies all lesser fears. The heart, pos-
sessed with this fear, hath no room for the
other ; it resolves the heart, in point of duty,
what it should and must do, that it must
not offend God by any means ; that, it lays
down as indisputable, and so eases it of
doublings and debates in that kind ; whe-
ther shall I comply with the world, and
abate somewhat of the sincerity and exact
way of religion, to please men, or to escape
persecution or reproaches ? No, it is un-
questionably best, and only necessary to obey
him, rather than men ; to retain his favour,
be it with displeasing the most respected
and considerable persons we know ; yea, ra-
ther to choose the universal and highest dis-
pleasure of all the world for ever, than hi:
smallest discountenance for a moment : it
counts that the only indispensable necessity,
to cleave unto God and obey him. If I
pray, I shall be accused, might Daniel
think ; but yet pray I must, come on it what
will. So, if I worship God in my prayer,
they will mock me, I shall pass for a fool.
No matter for that, it must be done. I
must call on God, and strive to walk with
him. This sets the mind at ease, not to be
halting betwixt two opinions, but resolved
what to do. We are not careful, said they,
to answer thee, O king ! our God can de-
liver MS, Dan. iii. 16 ; but, however, this we
have put out of deliberation, we will not
worship the image. As one said, Won
oportet vivere, sed oportet navigare ; it is
not necessary to have the favour of the world,
nor to have riches, nor to live ; but it is ne-
cessary to hold fast the truth, and to walk
holily, to sanctify the name of our Lord,
and honour him, whether in life or death.
lelp : What time I am afraid (says David)
/ will trust in thee, Psal. Ivi. 3. It re-
solves the mind concerning the event, and
scatters the multitude of perplexing thoughts
that arise about that ; what shall become of
this and that ? what if such an enemy pre-
vail ? what if the place of our abode grow
dangerous, and we be not provided, as others
are, for a removal ? No matter, says faith,
though all fail, I know of one thing that
will not ; I have a refuge, that all the
strength of nature and of art cannot break
in upon or demolish ; a high defence, my
rock in whom I trust, &c. Psal. Ixii. 5, 6.
The firm belief of, and resting on his power,
and wisdom, and love, gives a clear satisfy-
ing answer to all doubts and fears. It suf-
fers us not to stand to jangle with each trifling
grumbling objection, but carries all before
it ; makes day in the soul, and so chases
away those fears that vex us only in the
dark, as aft rightful fancies do. This is in-
deed to sanctify God, and give him his own
glory, to rest on him. And it is a fruitful
homage done to him, returning us so much
peace and victory over fears and troubles, it
persuades us that nothing can separate from
his love, and that only we feared ; and so
the things that cannot reach that, can be
easily despised.
Seek to have the Lord in your hearts,
and sanctify him there, he shall make them
strong, and carry them through all dangers ;
Though I walk, says David, through the
valley of the shadow of death, I will fear
no ill, for thou art with me, Psal. xxiii, so
Psal. xxvii. 1. What is it that makes the
Church so firm and stout, though the sea
roar, and the mountains be cast into the
midst of the sea, yet we will not fear ? It
is this, God is in the midst of her, she shall
not be moved, Psal. xlvi. 2, 3, 5. No
wonder, he is immoveable, and therefore
doth establish all where he resides. If the
world be in the middle of the heart, it will
be often shaken ; for all there is continual
motion and change, but God in it keeps it
stable. Labour, therefore, to get God into
your hearts, residing in the midst of them,
and then, in the midst of all conditions,
they shall not move.
Our condition is universally exposed to
fears and troubles, and no man is so stupid
but he studies and projects for some fence
against them ; some bulwark to break the
incursion of evils, and so bring his mind to
some ease, ridding it of the fear of thenu
Thus the most vulgar spirits in their way,
for even the brutes, from whom such do not
much differ in their actings and course or
life too, are instructed by nature to provide
themselves and their young ones of shelters,
the birds their nests, and the beasts their
Faith in God clears the mind, and holes and dens. Thus, men gape and pant
dispels carnal fears, so it is the most sure 'after gain with a confused ill-examined fane jt
192
A COMMENTARY' UPON
[CHAP. in.
of quiet and safety in it, desiring once to
reach such a day, as to say with the rich
*ool in the Gospel, Soul, take thine ease,
thou hast much goods laid up for many
years, &c. Luke xii. 19, though warned by
nis short ease, and by many watch-words,
yea, by daily experience, that days may
come, yea, one day will, when fear and
trouble shall rush in, and break over the
highest tower of riches, that there is a day,
called the day of wrath, wherein they profit
not at all, Prov. xi. 4. Thus men seek
safety in the greatness or multitude, or sup-
posed faithfulness, of friends ; they seek by
any means to be strongly underset this way,
to have many, and powerful, and constant
friends. But wiser men, perceiving the un-
safely and vanity of these, and all external
things, have cast about for some higher
course. They see a necessity of withdraw-
ing a man from externals, that do nothing
but mock and deceive those most that trust
most to them, but cannot tell whither to
direct him. The best of them bring him
into himself, and think to quiet him so ;
but the truth is, he finds as little rest and
support there. Nothing truly strong enough
within him, to hold out against the many
sorrows and fears that still from without do
assault him. So then, though it is well
done to call off a man from outward things,
as moving sands, that he build not on them,
yet it is not enough ; for his own spirit is as
unsettled a piece as is in all the world, and
must have some higher strength than its own
to fortify and fix it. This is the way that
is here taught, Fear not their fear, but
sanctify the Lord in your hearts .• and if
you can attain this latter, the former will
follow of itself.
In the general, God taking the place for-
merly possessed by things full of motion and
unquietness, strengthens and establishes the
heart ; but we may more particularly consi-
der, 1. Fear of him; 2. Faith in him.
1st, This fear of God turns other fears
out of doors : there is no room for them
where this great fear is, and being greater
than they all, yet it disturbs not as they do,
yea, it brings as great quiet as they brought
trouble. It is an ease to have but one thing
for the heart to deal withal, for many times
the multitude of carnal fears is more trouble-
some than their weight, as flies that vex
most by their number.
Again, this fear is not a terrible appre-
hension of God as an enemy, but a sweet
composed reverence of God as our King,
j ea, as our Father ; as very great, but no
less good than great ; so highly esteeming
of his favour, as fearing most of all things
to offend him in any kind ; especially if the
soul have been formerly either under the
lash of his apprehended displeasure, or, on
the other side, have had some sensible tastes
of his love, and have oeen entertained in his
banqueting house, where his banner over it
was love, Cant. ii. 4. Faith carries the
soul above all doubts^ with assurance that if
sufferings, or sickness, or death come, no-
thing cart separate it from him ; this suf-
fices, yea, what though he may hide his face
for a time, though that is the hardest of all,
yet there is no separation. His children
fear him for his goodness ,• are afraid to
lose sight of that, or deprive themselves of
any of its influences. They desire to live
in his favour, and then for other things' they
are not very thoughtful.
2dly, Faith sets the soul in God, an,,
where is safety if it be not there ? It rests
on those persuasions it hath concerning him,
and that interest it hath in him. Faith
believes that he sits and rules the affairs or
the world, with an all-seeing eye, and all-
moving hand : The greatest affairs surcharge
him not, and the very smallest escape him
not. He orders the march of all armies,
and the events of battles, and yet thou and
thy particular condition slips not out of his
view. The very hairs of thy head are
numbered, Matt. x. 30. Are not all thy
steps, and the hazards of them, known to
him, and all thy desires before him ? Doth
he not number thy wanderings, every weary
step thou art driven to, and put thy tears in
his bottle 9 Psal. Ivii. 8. Thou mayest
assure thyself, that however thy matters seem
to go, all is contrived to subserve thy good,
especially thy chief and highest good. There
is a regular motion in them, though the
wheels do seem to run cross. All thosf
things are against me, said old Jacob, Gen
xliii. 3G, and yet they were all for him.
In all estates, I know no heart's ease, but
to believe ; to sanctify and honour thy God,
in resting on his word. If thou art persuad-
ed of his love, sure that will carry thee above
all distrusting fears. If thou art not clear
in that point, yet depend and resolve to stay
by him, yea, to stay on him, till he shew
himself unto thee. Thou hast some fear of
him, thou canst not deny it without gross
injury to him and thyself; thou wouldst
willingly walk in all well-pleasing unto him :
Well then, who is among you that feareth
the Lord, though he see no present light,
yet let him trust in the name of the Lord,
and stay upon his God, Isa. 1. 10. Press this
upon thy soul, for there is not such another
charm for all its fears and unquiet ; therefore
repeat it still with David : Sing this still,
till it be stilled ; chide thy distrustful heart
into believing, Why art thou cast down, O
my soul? why art thou disquieted within
me ? Hope in God, for I shall yet praise
him, Psal. xliii. 5. Though I am all out
of tune for the present, never a right string
in my soul, yet he will put to his hand
and redress all : And I shall yet once
VER. 15.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
again praise ; and therefore, even now, I
will hope.
It is true, will the humble soul reply,
God is a safe shelter and refuge, but he is
holy, and holy men may find admittance and
protection ; but can so vile a sinner as I look
to be protected and taken in under this safe-
guard ? Go try. Knock at his door, and
(take it not on our word, but on his own) it
shall be opened to thee, Matt. vii. 7j and if
that be once done, thou shall have a happy
life on it in the worst times. Faith hath
this privilege, never to be ashamed ; it takes
sanctuary in God, and sits and sings lender
the shadow of his wings, as David speaks,
Psal. Ixiii. 7-
Whence the unsettledness of men's minds
ill trouble, or when it is near, but because
they are far off from God ? The heart is
shaken as the leaves of the tree with the
wind, Isa. vii. 2 ; there is no stability of
spirit ; God is not sanctified in it, and no
wonder, for he is not known. Strange ! the
ignorance of God, and the precious promises
of his word ! the most living and dying
strangers to him ! When trouble comes, they
have not him a known refuge, but are to
begin to seek after him, and to inquire the
way to him ; they cannot go to him as ac-
quainted, and engaged by his own covenant
with them. Others have empty knowledge,
and can discourse of Scripture, and sermons,
and spiritual comforts, and yet have none of
that fear and trust that quiets the soul : No-
tions of God in their heads, but God not
sanctified in their hearts.
If you will be advised, this is the way to
have a high and strong spirit indeed, and to
be above troubles and fears. Seek for a more
lively and divine knowledge of God than
most as yet have, and rest not till you bring
him into your hearts, and then you shall rest
indeed on him.
Sanctify him by fearing him : Let him
be your fear and your dread, Isa. viii. 13 ;
fear not only outward gross offences, do not
only fear an oath, and the profanation of the
Lord's holy day, but fear all irregular earth-
ly desires : Fear the distempered affecting
any thing, entertaining any thing in the secret
of your hearts that may give distaste to your
Beloved. Take heed, respect the great
Person you have in your company, who
lodges within you, the Holy Spirit. Grieve
him not, for it will turn to your own grief ii
you do ; for all your comfort is in his hand,
and flows from him. If you be but in heart
dallying with sin, it will unfit you for suffer-
ing outward troubles, and make your spirit
low and base in the day of trial : Yea, it
will fill you with inward trouble, and disturb
that peace which, I am sure, you that know
it, esteem more than all the peace and flou-
rishing of this world. Outward troubles do
not molest nor stir inward peace, but an un-
loly unsanctified affection doth. All the
winds without, cause not an earthquake, but
hat within its own bowels doth. Christians
are much their own enemies in unwary walk-
ng ; hereby they deprive themselves of those
comforts they might have in God ; and so
are often almost as perplexed and full of fears,
upon small occasions, as worldlings are.
Sanctify him by believing. Study the
main question, your reconcilement with him ;
abour to bring that to some point, and then
n all other occurrences faith will uphold you,
by relying on God as now on yours ; for thess
hree things make up the soul's peace : 1st,
To have right apprehensions of God, looking
on him in Christ, and according to that cove-
nant that holds in him. And, 2dly, A par-
ticular apprehension, that is, laying hold on
lim in that covenant, as gracious and merci-
ful, as satisfied and appeased in Christ,
smelling, in his sacrifice, (which was him-
self) a savour of rest, and setting himself
before me, that I rely on him in that notion.
3dlt/, A persuasion, that by so relying on
trim my soul is as one, yea, is one with him.
Yet, while this is wanting, as to a believer
it may be, the other is our duty, to sanctify
the Lord in believing the word of grace,
and believing on him ; reposing on his word ;
and this even severed from the other, doth
deliver, in a good measure, from distracting
fears and troubles, and sets the soul at safety.
Whence is it, that, in times of persecution
or trouble, men are troubled within and rack-
ed with fears, but because, instead o'f God,
their hearts are glued to those things that
are in hazard by those troubles without, their
estates, or their ease, or their lives ? The
soul destitute of God esteems so highly of
such things, that it cannot but exceedingly
feel when they are in danger, and fear their
loss most, gaping after some imagined good,
and saying, Oh ! if I had but this, I were
well. But then, such or such a thing may
step in and break all my projects : And this
troubles the poor spirit of man that hath no
higher designs, but such as are so easily
blasted, and still, as any thing in man lifts
up his soul to vanity, it must needs fall
down again into vexation. There is a word
or two in the Hebrew for idols, that signify
withal troubles,* and terrors, f and so it is
certainly. All our idols prove so to us;
they fill us with nothing but anguish and
troubles, with unprofitable cares and fears,
that are good for nothing, but to be fit
punishments of that folly out of which they
arise. The ardent love or obstinate desire
of prosperity, or wealth, or credit in the
world, carries with it, as inseparably tied to
it, a bundle of fears and inward troubles :
* [Tigirim,] Isa. xlv. 1C, from [Tszus,] arctavit,
hostiliter egit.
t [Miphletzeth,] 1 Kings xv. 13, from [Phalatz, i
contremiscere, et [Emim,] Job xv. 25, from [Aim. i
formiilabilis, terrificus.
N
15)4
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP in.
They that will be rich, says the Apostle,
1 Tim. vi. 9, fall into a snare, and many
noisome and hurtful lusts, and as he adds in
the next verse, they pierce themselves through
withmany sorrows. He that hath set his heart
upon an estate, or a commodious dwelling
and lands, or upon a healthful and long life,
cannot but be in continued alarms of renewed
fears concerning them ; especially in trou-
blous times, the least rumour of any thing
that threateneth his deprivement of those ad-
vantages strikes him to the heart ; because
his heart is in them. I am well seated,
thinks he, and I am of a sound strong con-
stitution, and may have many a good day.
Oh ! but besides the arrows of pestilence
that are flying round about, the sword of a
cruel enemy is not far off. This will affiight
and trouble a heart void of God : but, if
thou wouldst readily answer and dispel all
these, and such like fears, sanctify the Lord
God in thy heart. The soul that eyes God
renounces these things, looks on them at a
great distance, as things far from the heart,
and therefore that cannot easily trouble it,
but it looks on God as within the heart,
sanctifies him in it, and rests on him.
The word of God cures the many foolish
nopes and fears that we are naturally sick of,
by representing to us hopes and fears of a
far higher nature, which swallow up and
drown the other : as inundations and land-
floods do the little ditches in those meadows
that they overflow. Fear not, says our Sa-
viour, him that can kill the body, what then ?
Fear must have some work, he adds, but
fear Him that can kill both soul and body,
Matt. x. 28. Thus in the passage cited
here, Fear not their fear, but sanctify the
Lord, and let him be your fear and your
dread. And so for the hopes of the world,
care not though you lose them for God ;
there is a hope in you (as it follows here)
that is far above them.
Be ready always to give an answer.]
The real Christian is all for Christ, hath
given up all right of himself to his Lord and
Master ; to be all his, to do and suffer for
him ; and therefore sure will not fail in this
which is least, to speak for him upon all
occasions. If he sanctify him in his heart,
the tongue will follow, and be ready [«rjoj
uvoXo'yia.t] to give an answer, a defence or
apology. Of this here are four things to
be noted,
1st, The n*ed of it, Men will ask an
account.
2dly, The matter or subject of it, The
hope in you.
3dly, The manner, With meekness and
fear.
4thly, The faculty for it, Be ready.
1. For the first, the need of a defence or
apology. Religion is always the thing in
the world that hath the greatest calumnies
and prejudices cast upon it ; and this en-
gages those that love it to endeavour to clear
and disburden it of them. This they do
chiefly by the tract of their lives. The saints,
bj their blameless actions and patient suffer-
ings, do write most real and convincing apo-
logies ; yet sometimes it is expedient, yea,
necessary, to add verbal defences, and tj
vindicate not so much themselves, as their
Lord and his truth, suffering in the re-
proaches cast, upon them. Did they rest
in their own persons, a regardless contempt
of them were usually the fittest answer ;*
but where the holy profession of Christians
is likely to receive either the main or the
indirect blow, and a word of defence may do
any thing to ward it off, there we ought not
to spare to do it.
Christian prudence goes a great way in
the regulating of this ; for holy things are
not to be cast to dogs, Matt. vii. 6. Some
are not capable of rational answers, especially
in divine tilings ; they were not only lost
upon them, but religion indignified by con-
testing. But we are to answer every one
that inquires a reason or an account ; whicn
supposes something receptive of it. We
ought to judge ourselves engaged to give it,
be it an enemy, if he will hear ; if it gain
him not, it may in part convince and cool
him ; much more be it one that ingenuously
inquires for satisfaction, and possibly inclines
to receive the truth, but is prejudiced against
it by false misrepresentations of it : As
Satan and the profane world are very inven-
tive of such shapes and colours as may make
truth most odious, drawing monstrous mis-
consequences out of it, and belying the
practices of Christians, making their as-
semblies horrible and vile by false imputa-
tions ; and thus are they often necessitated
to declare the true tenor, both of their belief
and lives, in confessions of faith, and remon
strances of their carriage and custom.
The very name of Christians, in the pri-
mitive times, was made hateful by the foul-
est aspersions of strange wickednesses com-
mitted in their meetings ; and they passed
credibly through, with all that were not par-
ticularly acquainted with them. Thus it
also was with the Waldenses ; and so both
were forced to publish apologies ; and, as
here, every one was and is bound, seasonably,
to clear himself, and his brethren and reli-
gion. Such is the expression here, be ye
always ready ; which intimates it was not
only always to be done to every one ; but
we being ready to do, are to consider when,
and to whom, and how far.
2. We have the matter or subject of the
apology. All that they are to give account
of is comprised here under this, the hope
that is in you. Faith is the root of all
graces, and of all obedience and holiness
* Spreta vilescerent.
VER. 13.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF FETCH.
135
and hope is so near in nature to it, that the
one is commonly named for the other : For
the things that faith apprehends, and lay
hold on, as present in the truth of divine
promises, hope looks out for as to come in
their certain performance. To believe a
promise to be true before it be performed,
is no other but to believe that it shall be per-
formed ; and hope expects that.
Many rich and excellent things do the
saints receive, even in this mean despised
condition they have here ; but their hope is
rather mentioned as a subject they may speak
and give account of with most advantage ;
both because all they receive at present is
but as nothing, compared to what they hope
for ; and because such as it is, it cannot be
made known at all to a natural man, and is
so clouded with their afflictions and sorrows.
These he sees, but their graces and comforts
he cannot see ; and therefore the very ground
of higher hopes, somewhat to come, though
he knows not what it is, speaks more satis-
faction. To hear of another life, and happi-
ness hoped for, any man will confess it says
something, and deserves to be considered.
So then the whole sum of religion goes
under this word, (he hope that is in you, for
two reasons : 1. As it terminates in hope ;
and, 2. as that is, by way of eminence, the
hope, the most noble of all others.
1. For that it doth indeed all resolve and
terminate into things to come, and leads and
carries on the soul towards them by all the
graces in it, and all the exercise of them, and
through all services and sufferings ; still it
aims at this, as its main scope, to keep that
life to come in the believer's eye, till he get
it in his hand ; to entertain the hope of it,
and bring him home to possess it. And,
2. It is eminently The hope ; therefore
the.Apostle calls faith the substance of things
hoped for, that which makes them be before
they be, gives a solidity and substance to
them. 'The name of hope, in other things,
scarce suits with such a meaning, but sounds
a kind of uncertainty, and is somewhat airy.
For, of all other hopes but this, it is a very
true word, that hope is the name of an un-
certain good;* but the gospel, being en-
tertained by faith, furnishes a hope that hath
.substance and reality in it ; and all its truths
do concentre into this, to give such a hope.
There was in St. Paul's word, besides the
fitness for this stratagem at that time, a truth
suitable to this, where he assigns his whole
cause for which he was in question, by the
name of his hope of the resurrection, Acts
xxiii. 6.
And, indeed, hope carries its own apology
in it, for itself and for religion. What can
more pertinently answer all exceptions against
way? If you ask, Whither tends all this
your preciseness and singularity ? Why
cannot you live as your neighbours and the
rest of the world about you ? Truly the
reason is this, we have somewhat further to
look to than- our present condition, and far
more considerable than any thing here ; we
have a hope of blessedness after time, a hope
to dwell in the presence of God, where our
Lord Christ is gone before us : and we know
that as many as have this hope, must purify
themselves even as he is pure, 1 John iii.
3. The city we tend to is holy, and no un-
clean thing shall enter into it, Rev. xxi. 17.
The hopes we have cannot subsist in the way
of the ungodly world ; they cannot breathe
in that air, but are choked and stifled with
it ; and therefore we must take another way,
unless we will forego our hopes, and ruin our-
selves for company. " But all that bustle
of godliness you make, is but ostentation
and hypocrisy." That may be your judg-
ment : but, if it were so, we had but a poor
bargain, Matt. vi. They have their reward,
that which they desire (to be seen of men)
is given them, and they can look for no
more ; but we should be loth to have it so
with us. That which our eye is on, is to
come ; our hopes are the thing which up-
holds us. We know that we shall appear
before the Judge of hearts, where shews and
formalities will not pass : And we are per-
suaded that the hope of the hypocrite shall
oerish, Job viii. 13; no man shall be so
much disappointed and ashamed as'he ; but
;he hope that we have makes not ashamed,
Rom. v. 5. And while we consider that,
so far are we from the regard of men's eyes,
that, were it not we are bound to profess our
lope, and avow religion, and to walk like it,
even before men, we would be content to pass
lirough altogether unseen, and desire to pass
as if it were so ; as regardless either of the
approbation, or of the reproaches and mis-
:akes of men ; as if there were no such thing,
or it is indeed nothing.
Yea, the hopes we have make all things
sweet. Therefore do we go through dis-
graces and sufferings with patience, yea with
oy, because of that hope of glory and joy
aid up for us. A Christian can take joy-
"ully the spoiling of his goods, knowing
hat he hath in heaven, a better and an en-
during substance, Heb. x. 34.
It is, as we said, The hope. All the
state of a believer lieth in hope, and it is a
oyal estate ; for outward things, the chil.
Iren of God have what he thinks fit to serve
hem, but those are not their portion, and
herefore he gives often more of the world to
hose that shall have no more hereafter : But
all their flourish and lustre is but a base ad-
the way of godliness than this, to represent
vantage, as a lackey's gaudy clothes, that
what hopes the saints have that walk in that | usually make more shew than his that is heir
« Spes est nonun boni incerti- SEN. ' of the estate. How often under a mean out-
A COMMENTARY* UPON
waul condition, and very despicable every
way, goes an heir of glory, born of God, and
so royal ; born to a crown that fadeth not,
an estate of hopes, but so rich and so certain
hopes, that the least thought of them sur-
passes all the world's possessions.' Men
think of somewhat for present, a bird in
hand, as you say, the best on it : But the
odds is in this, that when all present things
shall be past and swept away, as if they had
not been, then shall these hopers be in eter-
nal possession ; they only shall have all for
ever, that seemed to have little or nothing here.
Oh ! how much happier, to be the mean-
est expectant of the glory to come, than the
sole possessor of all this world. These ex-
pectants are often held short in earthly things,
and, had they the greatest abundance of
them, yet they cannot rest in that ; yea, all
the spiritual blessings that they do possess
here, are nothing to the hope that is in them,
but as an earnest-penny to their great inheri-
tance. So, indeed, it confirms their hops,
and assures it unto them of that full estate,
and therefore, be it never so small, they may
look on it with joy, not so much regarding
it simply in itself, as in relation to that
which it seals and ascertains the soul of. Be
it never so small, yet it is a pledge of the
great glory and happiness which we desire to
share in.
It is the grand comfort of a Christian to
look often beyond all that he can possess or
attain here ; and as to answer others, when
he is put to it concerning his hope, so to an-
twer himself concerning all his present griefs
and wants : " I have a poor traveller's lot
here, little friendship, and many straits, but
yet I may go cheerfully homewards : For
thither I shall come, and there I have riches
and honour enough ; a palace and a crown
abiding me : Here nothing but depth call-
ing unto depth, one calamity and trouble
(as waves) following another ; but I have a
hope of that Rest that remaineth for the
people of God, Heb. iv. 9. I feel the infir-
mities of a mortal state, but my hopes of im-
mortality content me under them. I find
strong and cruel assaults of temptations
breaking in upon me, but for all that, I have
assured hope of a full victory, and then of
everlasting peace. I find a law in my mem-
bers rebelling against the law of my mind,
Rom. vii. 23, the worst of all evils ; so much
strength of corruption within me : Yet there
is withal a hope within me of deliverance,
and I look over all to that ; / lift up my
head, because the day of my redemption
draws nigh, Luke xxi. 28. This I dare
avow and proclaim to all, and not be asham-
ed to answer concerning this blessed hope."
But then, 3d/.y, For the manner of this, it
is to be done with meekness and fear.
Meekness towards men, and reverent fear to-
wards God.
1. With meekness. Not therefore blus-
tering and flying out h.co invectives, because
he hath the better on it, against any man
that questions him touching his hope ; as
some think themselves certainly authorised
to rough speech, because they plead for truth,
and are on its side. On the contrary, so
much the rather study meekness, for the glory
and advantage of the truth. It needs not
the service of passion ; yea, nothing so dis-
serves it, as passion when set to serve it.
The Spirit of truth is withal the Spirit of
meekness, the Dove that rested on that great
Champion of Truth, who is the Truth itself,
and from him is derived to the lovers of truth,
and they ought to seek the participation of
it. Imprudence makes some kind of Chris-
tians lose much of their labour, in speaking
for religion, and they drive those further off.
that they would draw into it.
And, 2. This defence is to be made with
fear. Divine things are never to be spok<>
of in a light perfunctory way, but with a re.
verent grave temper of spirit ; and, for this
reason, some choice is to be made both of
time and persons. The confidence that is in
this hope makes the believer not fear men,
to whom he answers, but still he fears his^,
God, for whom he answers, and whose in-
terest is chief in those things he speaks of.
The soul that hath the deepest sense of spi-
ritual things, and the truest knowledge or"
God, is most afraid to miscarry in speaking
of him, most tender and wary how to acquit
itself when engaged to spsak of and for God.
4(hly, We have the faculty of this apolo-
gy, be ready. In this there is implied know-
ledge, and affection, and courage. For
knowledge is not required of every Christian,
to be able to prosecute subtilties, and encoun-
ter the sophistry of adversaries, especially in
obscure points ; but all are bound to know so
much, as to be able to aver that hope that is
in. them, the main doctrine of grace and sal-
vation, wherein the most of men are lamenta-
bly ignorant.
Affection sets all on work ; whatsoever fa.
culty the mind hath, it will not suffer it to
be useless, arid it hardens it against hazards
in defence of the truth, and produces that
undaunted courage which this readiness ex-
presses.
But the only way so to know and love the
truth, and have courage for it, is that, to have
the Lord sanctified in the heart. Men may
dispute stoutly against popery and errors, and
yet be strangers- to God and this hope. But
sure it is the liveliest defence, and that whicli
alone returns comfort within, when it arisi-s
from the peculiar interest of the soul in God,
and in those truths, and that hope, tha' are
questioned. It is then pleading for the dear-
est friend, and for a man's own rights and
inheritance, and these will animate and edge
it when you apologize, not for u IIOJK you
VER. 1C.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
197
have heard or read of barely, but a hope in
you ; not merely a hope in believers in gene-
ral, but in you, by a particular sense of that
hope within.
But, although you find it not so strong in
you for your particular interest, yet, Are you
seeking after it, and desiring it mainly ? Is
it your chief design to attain unto it ? Then
forbear not, if you have occasion, to speak for
it, and commend it toothers, and to maintain
the sweetness and certainty of it.
And, to the end you may be the more es-
tablished in it, and so the stronger to answer
for it, not only against men, but that great
adversary that seeks so much to infringe and
overbear it, know the right foundation of it ;
build it never on yourselves, nor any thing
in you.
The work of grace may evidence to you
the truth of your hope ; but the ground it
fastens on is Jesus Christ, in whom all our
rights and evidences hold good : His death
assuring us of freedom from condemnation,
and his life and possession of glory being the
foundation of our hope, Heb. vi. 19.
If you would have it immoveable, rest it
there : lay all this hope on him, and, when
assaulted, fetch all your answers for it from
him, For it is Christ in you that is your
hope of glory, Coloss. i. 37-
VKR. 16. Having a good conscience, that whereas
they speak evil of you, as of evil-doers, they may
be ashamed that falsely accuse your good conver
sation in Christ.
1 he prosperity of fools is their destruc-
tion, says Solomon, Prov. i. 32. But none
of God's children die of this disease, of too
much ease. He knows well how to breed
them, and fit them for a kingdom. He keeps
them in exercise, but yet so as they are not
surcharged. He not only directs them how
to overcome, but enables and supports them
in all their conflicts, and gives them victory-
One main thing, tending to their support
and victory, is this, which is here required
in the saints, and is withal wrought and main-
tained in them by the Spirit of God, Having
a good conscience, &c.
I. We have here two parties opposed in
contest, the evil tongues of the ungodly, and
the good conscience and conversation of the
Christian; they speak evil of you, and false-
ly accuse you, but have you a good con-
science.
II. The success of their contest : the good
conscience prevails, and evil-speakers are
ashamed.
For the first, The parties engaged : of the
first, it is said, They speak evil. This is a
general evil in the corrupt nature of man,
though in some it rises to a greater heighi
than in others. Are not tables and chambers,
and almost all societies and meetings, full ol
it ? And even they that have some dislik-
ings of it, yet are too easily carried away with
:he stream, and for company's sake, take a
share, if not in lending in their word, yet
n lending their ear. Men willingly hear
the detractions, of others ; and, unless it be
of their friends, or such as they have interest
n, do insensibly slide into some forced com-
jlacency, and easily receive the impression of
alumnies and defamings. But the most are '
more active in this evil, can cast in their
penny to make up the shot ; have their taunt
or criticism upon somebody in readiness, to-
wards furnishing out the feast, such as most
companies entertain one another withal :
But it is a vile diet : Satan's name, as the
Syriac calls him, is an eater of calumnies.
This tongue-evil hath its root in the heart,
in a perverse constitution there. Pride and
self-love, an overweening esteem that men
naturally have of themselves, mounts them
into that chair, gives them a fancied authori-
ty of judging others ; and self-love a desire
to be esteemed ; and, for that end, they spare
not to depress others, and load them with dis-
graces and injurious censures, seeking, upon
their ruins, to raise themselves. *
But this bent, of <he unrenewed heart and
tongue, to evil-speaking, works and vents
most in the world against those that walk
most contrary to the course of the world ;
against such this furnace of the tongue,
which is kindled from hell, as St. James
tells us, James iii. 6, is made seven times
hotter than ordinary. As for sincere Chris-
tians, a company of hypocrites, (say they,)
who so godly ? but yet they are false, and
malicious, and proud, &c. and no kind of
carriage in them shall escape, but there shall
be some device to wrest and misname it. If
they be cheerful in society, that shall be ac-
counted more liberty that suits with their pro-
fession ; if of a graver sad temper, that shall
pass for sullen severity : Thus, John Bap-
tist and Christ were censured, Matt. xi. 18,
19. If they be diligent and wary in their
affairs, then, in the world's construction,
they are as covetous and worldly as any ; if
careless and remiss in them, then silly wit-
less creatures, good for nothing : Still some-
thing stands cross.
The enemies of religion have not any
where so quick an eye, as in observing the
ways of such as seek after God ; my remar-
kers, David calls them, Psal. Ivi. 6, they
that scan my ways, as the word is, and will
not kt the least step pass unexamined. If
nothing be found faulty, then their invention
works, either forges complete falsehoods, or
disguises something that lies open to mis-
take ; or if they can catch hold on any real
failing, there is no end of their triumph and
insultations. 1. They aggravate and raise
it to the highest. 2. While they will not
admit to be judged of themselves by their
* Ex alien! nomiuis jactura graduin sibi faciunt ail
pluriam. SALJ.UST.
198
A COMMENTARY UPON
constant walk, they scruple not to judge of lying or biting words ?"
the condition of a ( Ihristian by any one par- mility and self-censure.
ticular action, wherein he doth, or seems at
least to miscarry. 3. They rest not there,
but make one failing of one Christian the re-
proach of all ; •' Take up yoar devotos, there
is never one of tnem better." 4. Nor resi
they there, but make personal failings, of
those that profess it, the disgrace of religion
itself. Now, all these are very crooked rules,
and such as use them are guilty of gross in-
justice
1. There is a great difference betwixt a
thing taken favourably, and the same action
misconstrued. And,
2. A great difference betwixt one particu-
lar act and a man's estate or inward frame,
which they either consider not, or willingly
or maliciously neglect.
3. How large is the difference that there
is betwixt one and another in the measure
of grace, and of their prudence, either in
their naturals, or in grace, or possibly in
both ! Some who are honest in matters of
religion, yet, being very weak, may miscarry
in such things as other Christians come
seldom near the hazard of; and though some
should wholly forsake the way of godliness,
wherein they seemed to walk, yet why should
that reflect upon such as are real and stedr
fast in it ? They went out from us, says
the Apostle, but were not of us, I John ii.
19. Offences of this kind must be, but
the woe rests on him by tehom they come,
not on other Christians : And if it spread
further than the party offending, the woe is
to the profane world, that take offence at
religion because of him ; as our Saviour
hath expressed it, Woe to the world because
of offences, Matt, xviii. 7. They shall
stumble and fall, and break their necks upon
these stumbling-blocks or scandals. Thou
that art profane, and seest the failing of a
Minister or Christian, and art hardened by
it, this is a judgment to thee, that thou
meetest with such a block in thy way. Woe
to the world : It is a judgment on a place,
when God permits religion, in the persons
of some, to be scandalous.
4. Religion itself still remains the same,
whatsoever be the failings and blots of one
or more that profess it. It is pure and spot-
less ; if it teach not holiness, and meekness,
and humility, and all good purely, then ex-
cept against it. But, if it be a straight
golden reed by which the temple is measur-
ed, then let it have its own esteem, both of
straightness and preciousness, whatsoever un-
evenness be found in those that profess to
receive it.
Suspect and search yourselves, even in
general, for this evil of evil-speaking. Con-
sider that we are to give [\oyov X«y£v] an
account of words ; and if for idle [fyyo*
Zlpx] workbss words, how much more of
[CHAP. in.
Learn more hu-
Blunt that fire-
edge upon your own hard and disordered
hearts, that others may meet with nothing
but charity and lenity at your hands.
But, particularly, beware of this, in more
or less, earnest or in jest, to reproach reli-
gion, or those that profess it. Know how
particularly the glorious name of GOD is
interested in that ; and they that dare to be
affronting him, what shall they say ? How
shall they stand when he calls them to ac-
count ? If you have not attained to it, yet
do not bark against it, but the rather esteem
highly of religion. Love it, and the very
appearance of it, where you find it. Give it
respect and your good word at least ; and,
from an external approbation, Oh ! that you
would aspire to inward acquaintance with it,
and then no more were needful to be said in
this. It would commend itself to you suf-
ficiently. But in the mean time, be asham-
ed, be afraid of that professed enmity against
God that is amongst you, a malignant
hateful spirit against those that desire to
walk holily, whetting your tongues against
them.
1. Consider, What do you mean, this
religion which we all profess, is it the way
to heaven, or is it not ? Do you believe
this word or not ? If you do not, what do
you here ? If you do, then you must be-
lieve too, that they that walk closest by this
rule are surest in that way. They that dare
not share with your oaths, and excessive cups,
and profane conversation, what can you say ?
It is not possible to open your mouth against
them without renouncing this word and
faith : Therefore, either declare you are no
Christians, and that Christ is not yours : or,
in his name, I enjoin you, that you dare no
more speak an ill word of Christianity, and
the power of religion, and those that seek
after it. There are not many higher signs
of a reprobate mind, than to have a bitter
virulent spirit against the children of God.
Seek that tie of affection and fraternity, on
which the beloved Apostle St. John lays
such stress, when he says, Hereby we know
that we are translated from death to life,
because we love the brethren, 1 John iii.
14.
But because those hissings are the natu-
ral voice of the serpent's seed, expect them,
you that have a mind to follow Christ, and
lake this guard against them that you are
here directed, Having a good conscience ;
the second party we mentioned above, as
engaged in contest.
It is a fruitless verbal debate, whether
conscience be a faculty or habit, or not ; and
as in other things, so in this, that most of
all requires more solid and useful considera-
tion, the vain mind of man feedeth on the
* De Verbo mendaci aut morclaci. BF.RX.
VER. 1C.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEK.
wind, loves to be busy to no purpose :* How I and prevent the like errors for the time to
much better is it to have this supernatural
goodness of conscience, than to dispute about
the nature of it ; to find it duly teaching and
admonishing, reproving and comforting, ra-
ther than to define it most exactly !-f
When all is examined, it will be found
to be no other but the mind of man, -under
the notion of a particular reverence to
himself and his own actions. And there
is a twofold goodness of the conscience, pu-
rity and tranquillity, and this latter flows
from the former ; so that the former is the
thing we ought primely to study, and the
latter will follow of itself. For a time, in-
deed, the conscience that is in a good mea-
sure pure, may be unpeaceable, but still it
is the apprehension and sense of present or
former impurity that makes it so ; for, with-
out the consideration of guiltiness, .there is
nothing that can trouble it. It cannot ap-
prehend the wrath of God, but with relation
unto sin.
The goodness of conscience here recom-
mended, is the integrity and holiness of
the whole inward man in a Christian ; so
the ingredients of it are, 1. A due light or
knowledge of our rule : That as the lamps
in the temple must be still burning within,
so filth iness is always the companion of
darkness ; therefore, if you would have a
good conscience, you must by all means
have so much light, so much knowledge of
the will of God, as may regulate you, and
shew ycu your way, may teach you how to
do, and speak, and think, as in his presence.
2. A constant regard, and using of this
light, applying it to all ; not sleeping, but
working by it ; still seeking a nearer con-
formity with the known will of our God ;
daily redressing and ordering the affections
by it ; not sparing to knock off whatsoever we
find irregular within, that our hearts may be
polished, and brought to a right frame by
that rule. And this is the daily inward work
of the Christian, his great business, to purify
himself as the Lord is pure, 1 John iii. 3.
And, 3. For the advancing of this work,
is needful, a frequent search of our hearts
arid of our actions, not only to consider what
we are to do, but what we have done. These
reflex inquiries, as they are a main part of the
conscience's proper work, they are a chief
means of making and keeping the conscienci
good : 1. Acquainting the soul with its own
state ; with the motions and inclinations that
are most natural to it. 2. Stirring it up to
work out, and purge away, by repentance, the
pollution it hath contracted by any outward
act or inward motion of sin. 3. This search
both excites and enables the conscience to
be more .watchful ; teaches how to avoid
* Magno conatu magnas nugas.
t Malo sentire compunctionem, q'lam scire ejus de-
Gnitionem.
come. As natural wise men labour to gain
.hus out of their former oversights in their own
affairs, to be the wiser and warier by them,
and to lay up that as bought wit, that they
lave paid dear for, and theiefore are care-
ul to make their best advantage of it ; se
jrod makes the consideration of their falls
weservatives to his children from falling
again ; he makes a medicine of this poison.
Thus, that the conscience may be good, it
must be enlightened ; and it must be watch-
'ul, both advising before, and after censur-
ng, according to that light.
The greater part of mankind little regard
this ; they walk by guess, having perhaps
gnorant consciences, (and the blind, you say,
swallow many a fly,) yea, how many conscien-
ces without sense, as seared with an hot
iron, 1 Tim. iv. 2, so stupified, that they
feel nothing ! Others rest satisfied with a
civil righteousness, an imagined goodness of
conscience, because they are free from gross
crimes. Others that know the rule of Chris-
tianity, yet study not a conscientious respect
to it in all things. They cast some transient
looks upon the rule, and their own hearts,
it may be, but sit not down : they make it
not their business to compare them. They
have time for any thing but that ;* btft
share not with St. Paul, do not exercise
themselves in this, to have a conscience void
of offence towards God and men, Acts xxiv.
16. Those were his Asceticks, [«<rxp] he
breathed himself, in striving against what
might defile the conscience, or as the word
signifies, elaborately wrought and dressed
his conscience. •(• Think you, that other
things cannot be done without diligence and
intention, and is this a work to be done at
random ? No, it is the most exact and cu-
rious of all works, to have the conscience
right, and keep it so. As watches or other
such neat pieces of workmanship, except
they be daily wound up and skilfully han-
dled, they will quickly go wrong; yea, besides
daily inspection, conscience should (as these)
at some times be taken to pieces, and more
accurately cleansed ; for the best kept will
gather soil and dust. Sometimes a Chris-
tian should set himself to a more solemn ex-
amination of his own heart, beyond his daily
search ; and all little enough to have so pre-
cious a good as this, a good conscience.
They that are most diligent and vigilant,
find nothing to abate as superfluous, but still
need of more. The heart is to be kept with
all diligence, Prov. iv. 23, or above all
keeping. Corruption within is ready to grow
and gain upon it, if it be ever so little ne-
glected, and from without to invade it, and
get in. We breathe in a corrupt infected
• Non vacant Ixma; menti.
•f- Afxyimra ^ITUIO.. HO.M.
200
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. in.
air, and have need daily to antidote the heart
against it.
You that are studying to be excellent in
this art of a good conscience, go on, seek
daily progress in it ; the study of conscience
is a more sweet profitable study than of all
science, wherein is much vexation, and, for
the most part, little or no fruit. Read this
book diligently, and correct your errata by
that other- book, the Word of God. Labour
to have it pure and right ; other books and
works arc vi^ii^y*, curious, and Tra.o'.oya., by-
works ; they shall soon disappear, but this is
one of the books that shall be opened in that
great day, according to ivhich we must be
judged, Rev. xx. 12.
On this follows a good conversation, as
inseparably connected with a good conscience.
Grace is of a lively active nature, and doth
act like itself; holiness in the heart will be
holiness in the life too ; not some good ac-
tions, but a good conversation, an uniform
even tract of life, the whole revolution of it
regular : The inequality of some Christians'
ways doth breed much discredit to religion,
and discomfort to themselves.
But observe here, 1. The order of these
two. 2. The principle of both.
1. The conscience good, and then the
conversation ; Make the tree good, and the
fruit will be good, says our Saviour, Matt.
xii. 33 ; so, here, a good conscience is the
root of a good conversation. Most men be-
gin at the wrong end of this work ; they
would reform the outward man first ; that
will do no good, it will be but dead work.
Do not rest upon external reformations,
they will not hold, there is no abiding, nor
no advantage, in such a work ; you think,
when reproved, Oh ! I will mend, and set
about the redress of some outward things ;
but this is as good as to do nothing ; the mind
and conscience being defiled, as the apostle
speaks, Tit. i. 15, doth defile all the rest ;
it is a mire in the spring ; although the pipes
are cleansed, they will grow quickly foul
again ; so Christians, in their progress in
grace, would eye this most, that the conscience
be growing purer, the heart more spiritual,
the affections more regular and heavenly,
and their outward carriage will be holier ;
whereas, the outward work of performing
duties, and being much exercised in religion,
may, by the neglect of this, be labour in
vain, and amend nothing soundly. To set
the outward actions right, though with an
honest intention, and not so to regard and
find out the inward disorder of the heart,
whence that in the actions flows, is but to
be still putting the index of a clock right
with your finger, while it is foul, or out of
order within, which is a continual business,
and does no good. Oh ! but a purified
conscience, a soul renewed and refined in
its temper and affections, will make things
go right without, in all the duties and acts
of our callings.
2. The principle of good in both is Christ
Your good conversation in Christ. The
conversation is not good, unless in him, sc
neither is the conscience.
1. He the person, we must be in him,
and then the conscience and conversation
will be good in him ; the conscience that is
morally good, having some kind of virtuous
habits, yet being out of Christ, is nothing
but pollution in the sight of God : it must
be washed in his blood ere it can be clean ;
all our pains will not cleanse it, floods of
tears will not do it ; it is blood, and that
blood alone, that hath the virtue of purging
the conscience from dead works, Heb.ix. 14.
2. In him, the perfect pattern of holi-
ness ; the heart and life is to be conformed
to him, and so made truly good.
3. He is the Spirit of Grace, whence it
is first derived, and always fed and main-
tained, and made active ; a spirit goes forth
from him that cleanseth our spirits, and so
makes our conversation clean and holy.
If thou wouldst have thy conscience and
heart purified and pacified, and have thy
life certified, go to Christ for all, make use
of him ; as of his blood to wash off thy
guiltiness, so of his Spirit to purify and sanc-
tify thee. If thou wouldst have thy heart
reserved for God, pure as his temple ; if thou
wouldst have thy lusts cast out that pollute
thee, and findest no power to do it ; go to
him, desire him to scourge out thy filthy
rabble, that abuse his house, and make it a
den of thieves. Seek this as the only way
to have thy soul and ways righted, to be in
Christ, and then walk in him. Let thy
conversation be in Christ, study him and fol-
low him . look on his way, on his graces, his
obedience, and humility, and meekness, till
by looking on them, they make the very idea
of thee new, as the painter doth of a face he
would draw to the life ; so behold his glory,
that thou mayest be transformed from glory
to glory : But as it is there added, this must
be by the Spirit of the Lord, 2 Cor. iii. 18.
Do not, therefore, look on him simply as
an example without thee, but as life within
thee, having received him ; walk not only
like him, but in him, as the Apostle St. Paul
speaks, Colos. ii. 6, and as the word is
here, have your conversation not only according
to Christ, but in Christ ; draw from his ful-
ness grace for grace, John i. 16.
2dly, The other thing in the words is the
advantage of this good conscience and con-
versation, its success in this contest with
evil-speakers. 1. Even external towards the
malicious ungodly world : they shall be
ashamed that falsely accuse you: Thus
often it is even most evident to men ; the
victory of innocency, silent innocency, most
strongly confuting all calumny, making the
vzn. 17-1
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
201
ungodly fal.-.e accusers hide their heads.
Thus, without stirring, the integrity of a
Christian conquers : as a rock, unremoved,
breaks the waters that are dashing against
it. And this is not only a lawful, but laud-
able way of revenge, shaming calumny out
of it, and punishing evil-speakers by well-
doing ; shewing really how false their accu-
sers were. This is the most powerful apolo-
gy and refutation : as his was of the sophister
that would prove there was no motion, by ris-
ing up and walking. And without this good
conscience and conversation, we cut ourselves
short of other apologies for religion, what-
soever we say for it. One unchristian action
will disgrace it more than we can repair by the
largest and best framed speeches on its behalf.
Let those, therefore, that have given
their names to Christ, honour him, and
their holy profession, most this way : speak
for him as occasion requires ; why should we
not, provided it be with meekness and fear,
as our Apostle hath taught ? But let this be
the main defence of religion, live like it,
and commend it so. Thus all should do
that are called Christians, should adorn that
holy profession with holy conversation :
But the most are nothing else but spots and
blemishes, some wallowing in the mire, and
pro voking one another to all uncleanness. Oh !
the unchristian life of Christians ! an evil to
be much lamented, more than all the troubles
we sustain. But these indeed do thus deny
Christ, and declare that they are not his.
So many as have any reality of Christ in you,
be so much the more holy : The more wick-
ed the rest are, strive to make it up, and to
honour that name which they disgrace. And
if they will reproach you, because ye walk
not with them, and cast the mire of false
reproaches on you, take no notice, but go on
your way ; it will dry, and easily rub off.
Be not troubled with misjudgings ; shame
them out of it by your blameless and holy
carriage, for that will do most to put lies out
of countenance. However, if they continue
impudent, the day is at hand, wherein all
the enemies of Christ shall be all clothed
over, and covered with shame, and they that
have kept a good conscience, and walked
in Christ, shall lift up their faces with joy.
2dly, There is an intrinsical good in this
goodness of conscience, that sweetens all
sufferings, as follows :
VBR. 17- For it is better, if the will of God be so,
that ye suffer for well-doing, than for evil-doing.
THERE is a necessity of suffering in any
way wherein ye can walk ; if ye choose the
way of wickedness, you shall not, by doing
so, escape suffering : And that supposed,
this is by far the better, to suffer in well-
doing, and for it, than to suffer either for
1. The way of the ungodly is not exempt
from suffering, even in their present circum-
stances, setting aside the judgment and
wrath to come. They often suffer from the
hands of men, whether justly or unjustly ;
and often from the immediate hand of God,
always just, both in that and the other, caus-
ing the sinner to eat of the fruit of his own
ways, Prov. i. 30. When profane ungodly
men offer violences and wrongs one to ano-
ther ; in this God is just against both, in
that wherein they themselves are both unjust ;
they are both rebellious against him, and so,
though they intend not his quarrel, he means
it himself; sets them to lash one another.
The wicked profess their combined enmity
against the children of God, yet they are not
always at peace amongst themselves : They
often revile and defame each other, and so
enmity is held up on both sides ; whereas
the godly cannot hold them game in that,
being like their Lord, who, when he was
reviled, reviled not again, 1 Pet. ii. 23.
Besides, although the ungodly flourish at
some times, yet they have their days of suf-
fering, are subject to the common miseries
of the life of man, and the common calami-
ties of evil times ; the sword and pestilence,
and such like public judgments : Now, in
what kind soever it be that they suffer, they
are at a great disadvantage, compared with
the godly, in their sufferings.
Here impure consciences may lie sleeping,
while men are at ease themselves ; but when
any great trouble comes and shakes them,
then the conscience naturally begins to awake,
and bustle, and proves more grievous to them
than all that comes on them from without.
When they remember their despising the
ways of God, neglecting him and holy things,
whence they are convinced, how that comfort
might be reaped in these days of distress ;
this cuts and galls them most, looking back
at their licentious profane ways ; each of
them strikes to the heart. A? the Apostle
calls sin the stinff of death, 1 Cor. xv. 56,
so is it of all sufferings, and the sting that
strikes deepest into the very soul : No stripes
are like those that are secretly given by an
accusing conscience.*
A sad condition it is, to have from thence
the greatest anguish, whence the greatest
comfort should be expected ; to have thick-
est darkness, whence they should look for the
clearest light. Men that have evil conscien-
ces, love not to be with them ; they are not
much with themselves, as Augustine com-
pares them to such as have shrewd wives,
and therefore love not to be much at home.
But yet outward distress sets a man inward,
as foul weather drives him home ; and there,
where he should find comfort, he is met with
doing evil, or simply to suffer in that way, ' such accusations as are like a continual
as the words run, to suffer doing evil, zxx - dropping, as Solomon speaks of a conten-
roiauv-a; &ar%uv. » Surdo verbere cedit. Jcv.
202
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. in.
tious woman, Prov. xix. 3. It is a most
.wretched state to live under sufferings or
afflictions of any kind, and a stranger to
God ; for a man to have God and his con-
science against him, that should be his solace
in times of distress, being knocked off from
. he comforts of the world, whereon he rested,
and having no provision of spiritual comfort
within, nor expectation from above. But let
.us now,
2dly, Consider the state of the children
of God in their sufferings (especially such as
are of God ;) and here, first, They can re-
,tire themselves inwards, and rejoice in the
testimony of a good conscience, 2 Cor. i. 12;
yea, the possession of Christ dwelling with-
in them. All the trouble that befals them,
is but as the rattling of hail upon the tiles
of the house to a man that is sitting within
a warm room at a rich banquet ; such is a
good conscience, a feast, yea, a continual
feast. The believer looks on his Christ, and
in him- reads his deliverance from condem-
nation, and that is a strong comfort, a cor-
dial that keeps him from fainting in the
greatest distresses. When the conscience
gives this testimony that sin is forgiven, it
raises the soul above outward sufferings.
Tell the Christian of loss of goods, or liberty,
or friends, or life, he answers all with this,
" Christ is mine, and my sin is pardoned ;
that is enough for me. What would I not
have suffered, to have been delivered from
the wrath of God, if any suffering of mine
in this world could have done that ! Now
that is done to my hand. All other suffer-
ings are light : they are light, and but for a.
moment. One thought of eternity drowns
the whole time of the world's endurance,
which is but as one instant, or twinkling of
an eye, betwixt eternity before, and eternity
after. How much less is any short life, and
a small part of that is spent in sufferings ?
Yea, what is it, though it were all sufferings,
without interruption, which yet it is not ?
When I look forward to the crown, all va-
nishes, and I think it less than nothing."
Now, these things the good conscience
speaks to the Christian in his sufferings ;
therefore, certainly, his choice is best, that
provides it for his companion against evil
and troublous times : if moral integrity went
so far, (as truly it did much in some men
that had much of it), that they scorned all
hard encounters, and esteemed this a suf-
The Christian mind hath still one eye to
this, above the hand of men, and all inferior
causes, in suffering, whether for the name of
God, or otherwise : it looks on the sovereign
will of God, and sweetly complies with that
in all. Neither is there any thing that doth
more powerfully compose and quiet the mind
than this. It feels itself invincibly firm and
content, when it hath attained this relf-re-
signation to the will of God ; to agree to
that in every thing. This is the very thing
wherein tranquillity of spirit lies : It is no
riddle, nor hard to be understood, yet few
attain it. And I pray you, what is gained
by our reluctancies and repinings, but pain
to ourselves ? God doth what he will, whe-
ther we consent or not ; our disagreeing doth
not prevent his purposes, but our own peace.
If we will not be led, we are drawn. We
must suffer if he will ; but if we will what
he wills, even in suffering, that makes it
sweet and easy ; when our mind goes along
with his, and we willingly move with that
stream of providence, which will carry us
with it, though we row against it ; in which
case we still have nothing but toil and weari-
ness for our pains.
But this hard argument, of necessity, is
needless to the child of God ; persuaded of
the wisdom and love of his Father, he knows
that to be truly best for him that his hand
reaches. Sufferings are unpleasant to the
flesh, and it will grumble ; but the voice of
the Spirit of God, in his children, is that of
that good king, Good is (he word of the
Lord that he hath spoken, Isa. xxxix. 8, or
that other, 2 Sam. x. 12, Let him do with
me as seemeth good in his eyes. My foolish
heart would think these things I suffer might
be abated, but my wise and heavenly Father
thinks otherwise : He hath his design of
honour to himself, and good to me in these,
which I would be loth to cross if I might.
I would think, I may do God more service
by these advantages ; but, doth not hs know
best what is fit ? Cannot he advance his
?race more by the want of these things I
desire, than I could do myself by having
them ? Cannot he make me a gainer by
sickness, and poverty, and disgraces, and loss
of friends and children, by making up all in
limself, and teaching me more of his all-suf-
iciency ? Yea, even concerning the affairs
of my soul, I am to give up all to his gooc
ileasure. Though I desire the light of his
ficient bulwark, a strength impregnable, hie ' countenance above all things in this world,
murus aheneus esto, nil conscire sibi, how yet if he see it fit to hide it sometimes, il
much more the Christian's good conscience,
which alone is truly such !
2. As the Christian may thus look inward,
that be his will, let me not murmur ; there
is nothing lost by this obedient temper ; yea,
what way soever he deals with us, there is
and rejoices in tribulation ; so there is ano- much more advantage in it. No soul shall
therlook, upward, that is here likewise men- 'enjoy so much in all estates, as that which
tioned, that allays very much all the surfer, hath divested and renounced itself, and hath
ings of the saints : // the will of God be so, 'no will but God's.
I Pet. iii. 17.
TER. 18.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
203
VRR. 18. For Christ also hath once suffered for I persecution, 2 Tim. iii. 12. This is the
'" path to the kingdom, that which all the sons
of God, the heirs of it, have gone in, even
Christ ; as that known word is, One Son
sins, the just for the unjust, (that he might bring
us to God,) being put to death in the flesh, but
quickened by the Spirit.
THE whole life of a Christian is a steady
aiming at conformity with Christ ; so that,
in any thing, whether doing or suffering,
there can be no argument so apposite and
persuasive as His example ; and no kind or
degree of obedience, either active or passive,
so difficult, but the view and contemplation
of that example will powerfully sweeten it.
The Apostle doth not decline the frequent
use of it : here we have it thus, for Christ
also suffered.
Though the doctrine of Christian suffer-
ing is the occasion of speaking of Christ's
suffering, yet he insists on it beyond the
simple necessity of that argument, for its
own excellency and further usefulness. So
we shall consider the double capacity, I. As
an encouragement and engagement for Chris-
tians to suffer. II. As the great point of
their faith, whereon all their hopes and
happiness depend, being the means of their
reduction to God.
I. The due consideration of Christ's suf-
ferings doth much temper all the sufferings
of Christians, especially such as are directly
for Christ.
1. It is some known ease to the mind, in
any distress, to look upon examples of the
like, or greater distress, in present or former
times.* It diverts the eye from continual
poring on our own suffering ; and, when we
return to view it again, it lessens it, abates
of the imagined bulk and greatness of it.
Thus public, thus spiritual, troubles are
lightened ; and particularly the sufferings
and temptations of the godly, by the consi-
deration of this as their common lot, their
highway, and not new in the person of any,
1 Cor. x. 13. No temptation has befallen
you but what is common to men. If we
trace the lives of the most eminent saints,
shall we not find every notable step that is
recorded marked with a new cross ; one
trouble following on another, as the waves
do,-f- in an incessant succession ? Is not this
manifest in the life of Abraham, and of
Jacob, and the rest of God's worthies, in the
Scriptures ? And, doth not this make it
an unreasonable, absurd thought, to dream
of an exemption ? Would any one have a
new untrodden way cut out for him, free of
thorns, and strewed with flowers all along ?
Would a man meet with no contradictions,
nor hard measure from the world ? Or ima-
gine that there may be such a dexterity ne-
cessary, as to keep its good will, and the
friendship of God too ? This will not be ;
and it is an universal conclusion, AH that
will live godly in Christ Jesus, must suffer
* Ferre quam sortem patiuntur omnes.
+ Velut unda pellitur umln.
without sin, but none without suffering ;
Christ also suffered.
2. As the example and company of the
saints in suffering is very considerable, so
that of Christ is more than any other, yea,
than all the rest together. Therefore, the
Apostle having represented the former at large,
ends in this, as the top of all, Heb. xii.
1, 2, There is a race set before us, it is to
be run, and run with patience, and without
fainting : Now, he tells us of a cloud of
witnesses ; a cloud made up of instances of
believers suffering before us ; and the heat
of the day wherein we run is somewhat cool-
ed, even by that cloud compassing us : But
the main strength of their comfort here, lies
in looking to Jesus, eyeing of his sufferings,
and their issue. The considering and con-
templating of him will be the strongest cor-
dial, will keep you from wearying and
fainting in the way, ver. 3.
The singular power of this instance lies
in many particulars considerable in it. To
specify some chief things briefly in the steps
of the present words : The example is great
and fit, and the result of the sufferings con-
templated, of infinite importance to the Chris-
tian. Consider, 1 st, The greatness of the
example, which will appear from the great-
ness of the person, and of the sufferings.
1. From the greatness of the person : Christ,
and that marked to us by the manner of ex-
pression, [*«/
Christ also, besides
and beyond all others, even Christ himself.
There can be no higher example : not
only are the sons of adoption sufferers, but
the begotten, the only begotten Son, the
eternal heir of glory, in whom all the rest
have their title, their sonship, their heirship,
derived from, and dependent on his : Not
only all the saints, but the King of saints.
Who shall now repine at suffering ? Shall
the wretched sons of men refuse to suffer,
after the suffering of the spotless glorious Son
of God ? as one speaks of pride, that after
Majesty, highest Majesty, to teach humi-
lity, hath so humbled himself, how wicked
and impudent a thing will it be for a worm
to swell, to be high conceited ?* So thus
our Lord hath taught us, by suffering in his
own person, and hath dignified sufferings,
so that we should certainly rather be ambi-
tious than afraid of them. Recollect,
2. The greatness and continuance of his
sufferings. That which the Apostle speaks
here of his once suffering, hath its truth,
taking in all. He suffered once ; hw
whole life was one continued line of suffer-
ing, from the manger to the cross ; all that
* Ubi se huiniliavit Majestas, venniculus
et intumescat. BERN.
204
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. nr.
lay batwixt was suitable. His estate and
entertainment throughout his whole life
agreed well with so mean a beginning, and
so reproachful an end of it : Forced upon a
flight, while he could not go ; and living,
till he appeared in public, in a very mean
despised condition, as the carpenter's son ;
and, after his best works, paid with envy
and revilings, called a wine-bibber, and a
caster out of devils by the prince of devils ;
his life- often laid in wait, and sought for.
Art thou mean in thy birth and life, despis-
ed, misjudged, and reviled on all hands ?
Look how it was with Him, r'.iat had more
right than thou hast to better entertainment
in the world. Thou wilt not deny this, for
it was his own ; it was made by him, and
he was in it, and it knew him not. Are
thy friends harsh to thee ? He came unto
his own, and his own received him not,
John i. 10, 11. Hast thou a mean cottage,
or art thou drawn from it ? Hast thou no
dwelling, and art thou every way poor and
ill accommodated ? He was as poor as thou
canst be, and had no where to lay his head,
Matt. viii. 20, worse provided than the birds
and foxes. But then, consider to what a
height his sufferings rose in the end, that
most remarkable piece of them here meant,
by his once suffering for sins. If thou
shouldst be cut off by a violent death, or in
the prime of thy years, mayest thou not look
upon him as going before thee in both these :
and in so ignominious a way ; scourged,
buffeted, and spit on; he endured all, he
gave his back to the smiters, Isa. i. C, and
then, as the same Prophet hath it, He was
numbered amongst the transgressors, Isa.
liii. ult. When they had used him with
all that shame, they hanged him betwixt
two thieves, and they that passed by, wag-
ged their heads, and darted taunts at him,
as at a mark fixed to the cross ; they scoffed,
and said, He saved others, himself he can~
not save : But, for the joy set before him,
he endured the cross, despising the shame,
as the Apostle says, Heb. xii. 2.
Thus see we the outside of his sufferings.
But the Christian is subject to grievous
temptations, and sad desertions, that are
heavier by far than the sufferings which in-
deed the Apostle speaks of here. Yet even
in these this same argument of his holds.
For our Saviour is not unacquainted with,
nor ignorant of, either of those, though still
without sin. And, if any of that had been
in any of his sufferings, it had not further-
ed, but undone all our comfort in him. But
tempted he was ; he suffered that way too,
and the temptations were terrible, as you
know. And, was there not some strong
conflict when he fell down and prayed in
the garden, and sweat drops of blood?
Was there not an awful eclipse, when he
cried out on the cross, My God, my God I
why hast thou forsaken me ? So that, even
in these, we may apply this comfort, and
stay ourselves or souls on him, and go to
him as a compassionate High Priest, Heb.
iv. 15, 16, For Christ also suffered.
2. Consider the fitness of the example :
As the same is every way great, yea, greatest,
so it is fit, the fittest to take with a Christian,
to set before him so near a pattern, where
he hath so much interest. As the argu-
ment is strong in itself, so is it to the new
man, the Christian man, particularly strong-
est ; it binds him most ; for it is not far fetch-
ed, but a home pattern ;* as when you per.
suade men to virtue, by the example of those
that they have near relation to. They are
his servants, and shall they, or would they,
think to be greater than their Master, to
be exempt from his lot in the world ? They
are his soldiers, and will they refuse to fol-
low him, and to endure with him ? Suffer
hardship, (says the Apostle to Timothy,)
as a good soldier of Jesus Christ, 2 Tim.
ii. 3. Will not a word from him put a
vigour in them to go after him, whether
upon any march or service, when he calls
them friends, Commilitones, an appellation
used by Julius Csesar, which wrought so
much on his trained bands : Yea, he is not
ashamed to call them brethren, Heb. ii.
11 ; and will they be ashamed to share
with him, and to be known by their suitable
estate to be his brethren ?
3. There is from these sufferings of
Christ, such a result of safety and comfort
to a Christian, that makes them a most ef-
fectual encouragement to suffering ; which
is this, if he suffered once, that was for sin ;
so that now, that heavy intolerable suffer-
ing for sin being once taken out of a be-
liever's way, it makes all other sufferings
light, exceeding light, as nothing in their
account. He suffered once for sin, 'so that
to them that lay hold on him, this holds
sure, that sin is never to be suffered for in
the way of strict justice again ; as not by
him, so not by them that are in him ; for he
suffered for sins once, and it was for their
sins, every poor believer's. So now the soul,
finding itself rid of that fear, goes cheerfully
through all other hazards and sufferings.
The soul, perplexed about that question,
finds no relief in all other enjoyments ; all
propositions of lower comforts are unsavoury
and troublesome to it. Tell it of peace and
prosperity ; say, however the world go, you
shall have ease and pleasure, and you shall
be honoured and esteemed by all ; yea,
though you could make a man sure of these,
yet, if his conscience be working and stirred
about the matter of his sin, and the wrath of
God, which is tied close to sin, he will
wonder at your impertinency, in that you
speak so far from the purpose. Say what
* Exemplum dotnestlcum.
VER. 18.J
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
2:)5
you will of these, he still asks, " What do
youmeanby this ? those things answer not me.
Do you think I can find comfort in them,
so long as my sin is unpardoned, and there
is a sentence of eternal death standing above
my head ? I feel an impress of somewhat
of that hot indignation ; some flashes of it,
flying and lighting upon the face of my soul,
and how can I take pleasure in these things
you speak of? And though I should be
senseless, and feel nothing of this all my
life, yet how soon shall I have done with it,
and the delights that reach no further ; and
then to have everlasting burnings, eternity
of wrath to enter to ; how can I be satisfied
with that estate ?" All you offer a man in
this posture is as if you should set dainty fare,
and bring music with it, to a man lying almost
pressed to death under great weights, and
you bid him eat and be merry, but lift not
off his pressure ; you do but mock the man
and add to his misery : On the other side,
he that hath got but a view of his Christ,
and reads his own pardon in Christ's suffer-
ings, can rejoice in this, in the midst of all
other sufferings, and look on death without
apprehension, yea, with gladness, for the
sting is out : Christ hath made all pleasant
to him by this one thing, that he suffered
once for sins. Christ hath perfumed the
cross, and the grave, and made all sweet.
The pardoned man finds himself light, skips
and leaps, and through Christ strengthen-
ing him, he can encounter with any trouble.
If you think to shut up his spirit within
outward sufferings, he is now, as Sampson
in his strength, able to carry away on his
back the gates with which you would inclose
him ; yea, can submit patiently to the
Lord's hand in any correction. " Thou
hast forgiven my sin, therefore, deal with
me as thou wilt, all is well." For the im-
provement of what lias been said,
1. Learn to consider more deeply, and
esteem more highly, of Christ, and his suf-
fering, to silence our grumbling at our petty
light crosses ; for so they are in coniparison
of this. Will not the great odds of his per-
fect innocency, and of the nature and mea-
sure of his sufferings ; will not the sense of
the redemption of our souls from death by
his death ; will none of these, nor all of
them, argue us into more thankfulness and
love to him, and patience in our trials ?
Why will we then be called Christians ? It
is impossible to be fretful and malcontent
with the Lord's dealing with us in any kind,
till first we have forgot how he dealt with
his dearest Son for our sakes.* But these
things are not weighed by the most : we
hear and speak of them, but our hearts re-
ceive not the impressions of them ; therefore
we repine against our Lord and Father, and
* Enimvero non sentient sua, qui illius vulnera
intueutur. HERN, in Cant. Serin. 01
drown a hundred great blessings in aaj
little trouble that befals us.
2. Seek surer interest in Christ and his
suffering than the most either have attained,
or are aspiring to, otherwise all that is suf-
fered here, will afford thee no ease nor com.
brt in any kind of suffering. No, though
liou surfer for a good cause, even for his
:ause, still this will be an extraneous fo-
•eign thing to thee ; and to tell thee of his
sufferings, will work no otherwise with thee
.han some other common story. And as in
the day of peace thou regardest it no more,
so in the day of thy trouble thou shall re-
ceive no more comfort from it. Other things
which you esteemed shall have no comfort
to speak to you ; though you pursue them
with words (as Solomon says of the poor
man's friends) yet they shall be wanting to
you, Prov. xix. 1. And then you will surely
find how happy it were to have this to turn
you to, that the Lord Jesus suffered for
sins, and for yours, and therefore hath made
it a light and comfortable business to you to
undergo momentary passing sufferings.
Days of trial will come ; do you not see
they are on us already ? Be persuaded,
therefore, to turn your eyes and desires more
towards Christ. This is the thing we would
still press ; the support and happiness of
your souls lie on it. But you will not be-
lieve it. Oh, that you knew the comforts
and sweetness of Christ ! Oh, that one
would speak that knew more of them ?
Were you once but entered into this know-
ledge of him, and the virtue of his suffer-
ings, you would account all your days but
lost wherein you have not known him ; and in
all times your hearts would find no refresh-
ment like to the remembrance of his love.
Having somewhat considered these suffer-
ings, as the Apostle's argument for his pre-
sent purpose, we come now,
Idly, To take a nearer view of the parti-
culars, by which he illustrates them, as the
main point of our faith and comfort : ( )f
them here are two things, their cause and
their kind.
1. Their cause ; both their meriting cause
and their final cause. What in us procured
these sufferings unto Christ ; and what those
his sufferings procured unto us. Our guil-
tiness brought suffering upon him ; and his
sufferings bring us unto God.
1st, For the meritorious cause, our guilt
brought sufferings on Christ. The evil of
sin hath the evil of punishment inseparably
connected with it : We have a natural obli-
gation of obedience unto God, and he justly
urges it ; so that where the command of his
law is broke, the curse of it presently follow-
eth. And though it was simply in the power
of the Supreme Lawgiver to have dispensed
with the infliction, yet having in his wisdom
purposed tobs known a just God in that way,
20«
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. in.
following forth the tenor of his law, of neces-
sity there must be a suffering for sin.
Thus, the angels that kept not their sta-
tion, falling from it, fell into a dungeon,
where they are under chains of darkness,
reserved to the judgment of the great day,
Jude 6 ; and man fell under the sentence of
death. But in this is the difference betwixt
man and them ; they were not of one, as
parent or common root of the rest, but each
one fell or stood for himself alone, so a part
of them only perished ; but man fell altoge-
iher ; so that not one of all the rac* could
escape condemnation, unless some other way
of satisfaction be found out. And here it is,
Christ suffered for sins, the just for the
unjust : Father, says he, / have glorified
thee on earth, John xvii. 3. In this plot,
indeed, do all the divine attributes shine in
their full lustre ; infinite mercy and immense
justice, and power and wisdom. Looking
on Christ as ordained for that purpose, I have
found a ransom, says the Father, Job xxxiii.
24 ; one fit to redeem man, a kinsman, one
of that very same stock, the Son of man ;
one able to redeem man by satisfying me,
and fulfilling all I lay upon him ; my Son,
my only-begotten Son, in whom my soul de-
lights : And he is willing, undertakes all,
says Lo, I come, &c. Psal. xl. 7- We are
agreed upon the way of this redemption ; yea,
upon the persons to be redeemed ; it is not
a roving blind bargain, a price paid for we
know not whom. Hear his own words :
Thou hast given the Son (says the Son to
the Father) power over all flesh, that he
should give eternal life to as many as thou
hast given him, John xvii. 2 ; and after-
wards, all mine are thine, and thine are
mine, and I am glorified in them, ver. 10.
For the sins of those he suffered, standing
in their room ; and what he did and suffered
according to the law of that covenant, was
done and suffered by them. All the sins of
all the elect were made up into an huge
bundle, and bound upon his shoulders. So
the Prophet speaks in their name : Surely
he hath borne our griefs, and carried our
sorrows ; and the Lord laid [or made to
meet] on him the iniquity of us all, Isa.
IJii. 5, where he had spoken of many ways
of sin, and said, we have turned every one
to his own way ; he binds all up in the word
iniquity as all one sin, as if it were that one
transgression of the first Adam that brought
on the curse of his seed, borne by the second
Adam, to take it away from all that are his
seed, that are in him as their root.
, He is the great High-priest appearing be-
fore God with the names of the elect upon
his shoulders ; and in his heart bearing them
and all their burdens, and offering for them
not any other sacrifice but himself ; charg-
ing all their sin on himself, as the priest
did the sins of the people on the head of the
sacrifice. lie, by the Eternal Spirit, says
the Apostle, offered up himself without
spot unto God, spotless and sinless, Heb.
ix. 14 ; and so he only is fit to take away
our sin, being a satisfactory oblation for it.
He suffered ; in him was our ransom, and
thus it was paid. In the man Christ was
the Deity, and so his blood was, as the
Apostle calls it, the blood of God, Acts xx.
28 ; and, being pierced, it came forth, and was
told down, as the rich price of our redemp-
tion ; not silver nor gold, nor corruptible
things, as our Apostle hath it before, but
the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb
without blemish, 1 Pet. i. 17.
Obs. 1. Shall any man offer to bear the
name of a Christian, that pleases himself in
the way of sin ? that can delight and sport
himself with it, when he considers this, that
Christ suffered for sin ? Do not think it, you
that still account sin sweet, which he found
so bitter, and light, which was so heavy to
him, and made his soul heavy to the death.
You are yet far off from him ; if you were
in him, and one with him, there would be
some harmony of your hearts with his, and
some sympathy with these sufferings, as en-
dured by your Lord, your head, and for you.
They that, with a right view, see him as
pierced by their sins, that sight pierces them,
and makes them mourn ; brings forth tears,
beholding the gushing forth of his blood
This makes the real Christian an avowed
enemy to sin : shall I ever be friends with
that, says he, which killed my Lord ? No,
but I will ever kill it, and do it by applying
his death. The true penitent is sworn to be
the death of sin : He may be surprised by
it, but there is no possibility of reconcilement
betwixt them.
Thou that livest kindly and familiarly
with sin, and either openly declarest thyself
for it, or hast a secret love for it, where canst,
thou reap any comfort ? None can flow from
these sufferings to thee continuing in that
posture. It is all one, as if Christ had not
suffered for sins ; yea, it is worse than if no
such thing had been, that there is salvation,
and terms of mercy, unto thee, and yet thou
perishest : That there is balm in Gilead,
Jer. iii. 18, and yet thou art not healed.
And if thou hast not comfort from Jesus
crucified, I know not whence thou canst have
any that will hold jout. Look about thee,
tell me what thou seest, either in thy posses,
sion or in thy hopes, that thou esteemest
most, and layest thy confidence on ; or, to
deal more liberally with thee, see what estate
thou wouldsl choose, hadst thou thy wish.
Stretch thy fancy to devise an earthly happi-
ness. These times are full of unquietness ;
but give thee a time of the calmest peace,
not an air of trouble stirring ; put thee where
thou wilt, far off from fear of sword and pes-
tilence, and encompass thee with children,..
VER. 18.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
207-
friends and possessions, and honours, and
comfort, and health to enjoy all these ; yet
one thing thou must admit in the midst of
them all, within a while thou must die ;
and, having no real portion in Christ, but a
deluding dream of it, sinkest through that
death into another death far more terrible.
Of all thou enjoyest, nothing goes along with
thee but unpardoned sin, and that delivers
thee up to endless sorrow. Oh ! that you
were wise and would consider your latter
end, Deut. xxxii. 29. Do not still gaze
about you upon trifles, but yet be entreated
to take notice of your Saviour, and receive
him that he may be yours. Fasten your
belief and your love on him ; give all your
heart to him, who stuck not to give himself
an offering for your sins, Eph. v. 2.
2. To you that have fled unto him for
refuge, if sensible of the Church's distress,
be upheld with this thought, that he that
suffered for it will not suffer it to be undone.
All the rage of enemies, yea, the gates of
hell shall not prevail against it, Matt. xvi.
18; he may, for a time, suffer the church
to be brought low for the sins of his people
and other wise reasons, but he will not utterly
forsake it. Though there is much chaff,
yet he hath a precious number in these -king-
doms, that he shed his blood for. Many
God hath called, and yet is to call : He will
not lose any of his flock that he bought so
' dear, Acts xx. 28; and for their sake he
will, at one time or another, repair our
breaches, and establish his throne in these
kingdoms. And for yourselves, what can
affright you while this is in your eye ? Let
others tremble at the apprehension of sword
or pestilence ; but sure you have for them,
and all other hazards, a most satisfying
answer in this, Rom. v. 1, 2, 3, " My Christ
hath suffered for sin ; I am not to fear that ;
and that set aside, I know the worss is but
death. But I am wrong ; truly death, that
is the best, to be dissolved ; and to be with
Christ is [*•»*.>.» «£>./.« xg<7Tiri»] much
more better," Phil. i. 23.
This were a happy estate indeed ; but
what shall they think that have no assurance ?
those that doubt that Christ is theirs, and
that he suffered for their sins ? I know no
way but to believe on him, and then you
shall know that he is yours : From this is
the grand mistake of many ; th ?y would first
know that Christ is theirs, and then they would
believe, which cannot be, before he becomes
theirs by believing. It is that which gives
title and propriety to him ; he is set before
sinners as a Saviour that hath suffered for
sin, that they may look to him and be saved ;
that they may lay over their souls on him, and
then they may be assured he suffered for them.
Say then, what is it that scares thee from
Christ ? This thou seest is a poor ground-
less exception, for he is set before thee as a
Saviour to believe on, that so he may be thy
Saviour. Why wilt thou n;>t come unto
him ? why refusest thou to believe ? Art
thou .not a sinner ? art thou unjust ? Then
he is fit for thy case : He suffered for sins,
the just for the unjust. Oh ! but so many
and so great sins ! yea, is that it ? It is
true indeed, and good reason thou think so.
But, 1st, Consider if they be excepted in the
proclamation of Christ, the pardon that
comes in his name : If not, if he make no
exception, why wilt thou ? 2dly, Consider
if thou wilt call them greater than this sa-
crifice, he suffered. Take due notice of
the greatness and worth, first of his person,
and thence of his sufferings, and thou wilt
not dare to say thy sin goes above the value
of his suffering, or that thou art too unjust
for him to justify thee : Be as unrighteous
as thou canst be, art thou convinced of it ?
then know that Jesus the just, is more
righteous than thy righteousness: And after all
is said that any sinner hath to say, they are
yet, without exception, blessed that trust in
him, Psal. ii. ult.
2. We have tins, final cause of his suffer-
ings, That he might bring us to God.} It
is the chief point of wisdom, to proportion,
means to their end : Therefore, the all-wise
God, in putting his only Son to so hard a
task, had a high end in this, and this was
it, That he might bring us unto God. In this
we have three things : 1st, The nature of this
good, nearness unto God. -dly, Our de-
privement of it, by our own sin. 3dly,' Our
restorement to it, by Christ's sufferings.
\st, The nature of this good, nearness
to God. God hath suited every creature he
hath made with a convenient good to which
it tends, and in the obtainment of which it
rests and is satisfied. Natural bodies have
each their own natural place, whither, if not
hindered, they move incessantly till they be
in it ; and they declare, by resting there,
that they are (as I may say) where they
would be. Sensitive creatures are carried to
seek a sensitive good, as agreeable to their
rank and being, and, attaining that, aim no
further. Now, in this is the excellency of
man ; he is made capable of a communion
with his Maker, and, because capable of it^
is unsatisfied without it ; the soul being cut
out (so to speak) to that largeness, cannot be
filled with less, though he is fallen from his
right to that good, and from all right desire of
it, yet not from a capacity of it, no, nor from a
necessity of it, for the answering and filling of
his capacity.
Though the heart once gone from God,
turns continually farther away from him, an.l
moves not towards him till it be renewed ;
yet, even in that wandering, it retains that
natural relation to God, as its centre, that il
hath no true rest elsewhere, nor cannot by
any me.uis liud it. It is made for
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. in.
nnd is therefore still restless till it meet with
him.
It is true, the natural man takes much
pains to quiet his heart by other things, and
digests many vexations with hopes of con-
tentment in the end, and accomplishment of
some design he hath ; but still the heart mis-
gives. Many times he attains not the thing
he seeks ; but if he do, yet he never attains
the satisfaction he seeks and expects in it ;
but only learns from that to desire something
further, and still hunts on after a fancy,
drives his own shadow before him, and never
overtakes it ; and if he did, yet it is but a
shadow. And so, in running from God,
besides the sad end, he carries an interwoven
punishment with his sin, the natural disquiet
and vexation of his spirit, fluttering to and
fro, and finding no rest for the sole of
his foot : The waters of inconstancy and
vanity covering the whole face of the earth.
We study to abase our souls, and to make
them content with less than they are made
for : yea, we strive to make them carnal,
that they may be pleased with sensible things
And in this men attain a brutish content for
a time, forgetting their higher good. But
certainly, we cannot think it sufficient, and
that no more were to be desired beyond ease
and plenty, and pleasures of sense ; for then,
a beast in good case, and a good pasture,
might contest with us in point of happiness,
and carry it away ; for that sensitive good he
enjoys without sin, and without the vexation
that is mixt with us in all.
These things are too gross and heavy ;
the soul, the immortal soul, descended from
heaven, must either be more happy or remain
miserable. The highest uncreated Spirit is
the proper good : the Father of spirits, that
pure and full good, raises the soul above it-
self; whereas all other things draw it down
below itself. So, then, it is never well with
the soul, but when it is near unto God, yea,
in its union with him ; married to him, and
mismatching itself elsewhere,- it hath never
any thing but shame and sorrow. All that
forsake thee shall be ashamed, says the Pro-
phet, Jer. xvii. 13 ; and the Psalmist, Psal.
Ixxiii. 27, They that are afar off from thee
shall perish. And this is indeed our natural
miserable condition, and it is often exprest
this way, by estrangedness and distance
from God, Eph. ii. The Gentiles were/ar
°ff by their profession and nation, but both
Jews and Gentiles far off by their natural
foundation ; and both are brought near by
the blood of the New Covenant ; and that is
the other thing here implied, that we are far
off by reason of sin ; otherwise there were no
need of Christ, especially in this way of suf-
fering for sin to bring us to God. This we
proposed to consider secondly.
2d, Our deprivement of this great good
of nearness to God, by our sin. Now sin,
as the breach of God's command, broke off
man and seperated him from God, and ever
since the soul remains naturally remote from
God. 1. Under a sentence of exile, pro-
nounced by the justice of God ; condemned
to banishment from God, who is the life and
light of the soul, as the soul itself is of the
body. 2. It is under a flat impossibility of
returning by itself ; and that in two respects :
1. Because of the guiltiness of sin standing
betwixt, as an unpassable mountain or wall
of separation. 2. Because of the dominion
of sin keeping the soul captive, yea, still
drawing it further off from God, and increas-
ing the distance and the enmity every day.
Nor is there in heaven, nor under heaven,
any way to remove this enmity, and make
up this distance, and return man to the pos-
session of God, but this one, by Christ, and
him suffering for sins ; which we are to con-
sider.
3d, Our restoration to nearness to God by
Christ's sufferings. He endured the sen-
tence pronounced against man ; yea, even in
this particular notion of it, as one main in-
gredient in his suffering was his being de-
serted of God, as to any sensible communi-
cation of comfort from him ; of that he cried
out, Matt, xxvii. 46, My God, my God,
why hast thou forsaken me ? And, by
suffering the sentence pronounced, he took
away the guiltiness of sin, He himself being
spotless and undefiled ; for such an High*
priest became us, Heb. vii. 26. The more
defiled we were, the more did we stand in
need of an undefiled Priest and Sacrifice ;
and He was both. Therefore the Apostle
here very fitly mentions this qualification of
our Saviour, as necessary for reducing us
unto God, the just for the unjust ; so tak-
ing on him, and taking away ihs guilt of
sin, setting his strong shoulder to remove
that mountain, he made way or access for
man unto God.
This the Apostle hath excellently express-
ed, Eph. ii. 16, He hath reconciled us by
his cross, having slain the enmity ; he kill-
ed the quarrel betwixt God and us ; killed
it by his death. He thus brings the parties
together, and hath laid a sure foundation of
agreement in his own sufferings ; appeases
his Father's wrath by them, and by the same
appeases the sinner's conscience. All that
God hath to say, in point of justice, is an-
swered there ; all that the poor humbled
sinner hath to say, is answered too. He
hath offered up such an atonement as satisfies
the Father; so he is content that sinners
come in and be reconciled : And then Christ
gives notice of this to the soul, to remove all
jealousies : It is full of fear ; though it
would, it dare not approach unto God, appre-
hending him to be a consuming fire. They
that have done the offence are usually the
hardest to reconcile ; because they are still
VER. !«.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
in doubt of their pardon : But Christ assures
of a full and hearty forgiveness, quenching
the flame of God's wrath by his blood. " No,
says Christ, upon my warrant come in ; you
•will now find my Father otherwise than you
imagine : He hath declared himself satisfied
at my hands, and is willing to receive you,
to be heartily and thoroughly friends ; never
to hear a word more of the quarrel that was
betwixt you ; he grants a full oblivion."
And if the soul bear back still through dis-
trust, he takes it by the hand, and draws it
forward, leads it into his Father as the word
•r^'xru.ya.y'n imports ; presents it to him, and
leaves not the matter till a full and sure
agreement be made.
But for this purpose, that the soul may be
able and willing to come unto God, the suf-
ferings of Christ take away that other im-
pediment. As they satisfy the sentence,
and so remove the guiltiness of sin, so he
hath by them purchased a deliverance from
the tyrannous power of sin, that detains the
soul from God, after all the way made for it.
And he hath a power of applying his suffer-
ings to the soul's deliverance in that kind
too. He opens the prison doors to them
that are led captive, Isa. Ixi. 1 ; and be-
cause the great chain is upon the heart will-
ingly enthralled in sin, he, by his sovereign
power, takes off that ; he frees the heart from
the love of sin, shows what a base slavish
condition it is in, by representing, in his
effectual way, the goodness of God, his rea-
diness to entertain a returning sinner, the
sweetness and happiness of communion with
him. Christ powerfully persuades the heart
to shake off all, and, without further delay,
so to return unto God, as to be received into
favour and friendship, and so to walk in the
way of friendship with God, to give up itseli
to his obedience, to disdain the vile service
of sin, and live suitably to the dignity o:
fellowship and union with God.
And there is no other but the power ot
Christ alone that is able to effect this, to per-
suade a sinner to return, to bring home a
heart unto God. Common mercies of God,
though they have a leading faculty to repen-
tance, Rom. ii. 4, yet the rebellious heart
after fuller communion, closer walk, and
nearer access to God : But, leave Christ out,
[ say, and all other means work not this
way ; neither the works, nor word of God
sounded daily in his ear, Return, return.
Let the noise of the rod speak it too, and
both join together to make the cry the louder,
yet the wicked will do wickedly, Dan. xii.
10 ; will not hearken to the voice of God,
will not see the hand of God lifted up, Isa.
xxvi. 11 ; will not be persuaded to go in
and seek peace and reconcilement with God,
though declaring himself provoked to punish,
and to behave himself as an enemy against
his own people. How many are there, that,
in their own particular, have been very sharp-
ly lashed with divers scourges on their bodies
or families, and yet are never a whit the
nearer God for it all, but their hearts are
proud, and earthly, and vain as ever ; and,
let him lay on ever so much, they will still
be the same ; a divine virtue, only, going
forth from Christ lifted up, draws men un-
to him ; and being come unto him, he brings
them unto the Father.
Reflection 1. You that are still strangers
to God, who declare yourselves to be so, by
living as strangers far off from him, do not
still continue to abuse yourselves so grossly.
Can you think any consolation in the suffer,
ings of Christ yours, while it is so evident
they have not gained their end upon you,
have not brought you to God ? Truly, most
of you seem to think, that our Lord Jesiw
suffered rather to the end we might neglect
God, and disobey him securely, than to re-
duce us to him. Hath he purchased you a
liberty to sin ; or, is not deliverance from
sin, which alone is true liberty, the thing he
aimed at, and agreed for, and laid down his
life for ?
2. Why let we still his blood run in vain
as to us ? He hath by it opened up our
way to God, and yet we refuse to make use
of it. Oh ! how few come in. They that
are brought unto God, and received into
friendship with him, they entertain that
friendship, they delight in his company,
love to be much with him : Is it so with
us ? By being so near, they become like
will not be led by them. The judgments j him, daily know his will better, and grow
of God, public or personal, though they more suitable toil; but alas ! in the most,
should drive us to God, yet the heart, un-
changed, runs the farther from God. Do
we not see it by ourselves and other sinners
there is nothing of this.
3. But even they that are brought unto
God may be faulty in this, in part, not ap-
about us ? they look not at all towards him plying so sweet a privilege. They can per-
that smiles, much less do they return ; or if haps comply, and be too friendly with the
any more serious thoughts of returning arise vain world, can pass many days without a
upon the surprise of an affliction, how soon lively communion with God, not aspiring to
vanish they ? either the stroke abating, or , the increase of that, as the thing our Lord
the heart, by time, growing hard and sense- hath purchased for us, and that wherein all
less under it. Indeed, where it is renewed our happiness and welfare lie, here and here-
and brought in by Christ, then all other after : Your hearts cleaving to folly, and
things have a sanctified influence, according not delighting yourselves in the Lord ; not
to their quality to stir up a Christian to seek refreshed with this nearness tohim, and union
O
210
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAF. m.
with him ; your thoughts not often on it,
nor your study to walk conformable to it :
Certainly it ought to be thus ; and you
should be persuaded to endeavour it may be
thus with you.
4. Remember this for your comfort, that
as you are brought unto God by Jesus Christ,
so you are kept in that union by him. It is
a firmer knot than the first was ; there is no
power of hell can dissolve it. He suffered
once to bring us once unto God, never to de-
part again ; as he suffered once for all, so we
are brought once for all : We may be sen-
sibly nearer at one time than another, but
yet we can never be separate nor cut off, be-
ing once knit by Christ, as the bond of our
union. Neither principalities, nor powers,
$c. shall be able to separate us from the
love of God, Rom. viii. 37, 38, because it
holds in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Being put to death in the flesh, but quick-
ened by the Spirit.] The true life of a
Christian, is to eye Christ in every step of
his life, both as his rule, and as his strength ;
looking to him as his pattern, both in doing
and suffering, and drawing power from him
for going through both : for the look of faith
doth that, fetches life from Jesus to enable
it for all, being without him able for nothing.
Therefore the apostle did still set this before
his brethren ; and here, having mentioned
his suffering in general, the condition and
end of it, he specifies the particular kind of
it, that which was the utmost, put to death
in the flesh, and then adds this issue out of
it, quickened by the Spirit.
It is at once the strongest engagement, and
the strongest encouragement. Was He our
Head crowned with thorns, and shall the body
look for garlands ? Are we redeemed from
hell and condemnation by him, and can any
such refuse any service he calls them to ?
They that are washed in the Lamb's blood,
will follow him whithersoever he goes, Rev.
xiv. 4, and following him through, they shall
find their journey's end overpay all the trou-
bles and sufferings of the way. These are
they, said the elder who appeared in vision
to John, Rev. vii. 14, which came out of
great tribulation ; tribulation, and great tri-
bulation, yet they came out of it, and glori-
ous too, arrayed in long white robes. The
scarlet strumpet, as follows in that book,
dyed her garments red in the blood of the
saints : But this is their happiness, that their
garments are washed white in the blood of
the Lamb.
Once take away sin, and all suffering is
light ; now, that is done by this, his once
suffering for sin ; they that are in him shall
hear no more of that as condemning them,
binding them over to suffer that wrath that
is due to sin. Now, this puts an invincible
strength into the soul for enduring all other
things, how hard soever.
Put to death.] This is the utmost point,
and that which men are most startled at, to
die, and a violent death, put to death ; and
yet he hath led in this way who is the Cap-
tain of our salvation. — In the flesh. Under
this second, his human nature, and divine
nature and power, are differenced. Put to
death in the flesh is a very fit expression, not
only (as is usual) taking the flesh for the
whole manhood, but because death is most
properly spoken of that very person, or his
flesh : the whole man suffers death, a dis-
solution, or taking to pieces, and the soul
suffers a separation or dislodging ; but death,
or the privation of life and sense, belongs par-
ticularly to the flesh or body : But the
Spirit, here opposed to ihe flesh or body, is
certainly of a higher nature and power than
is the human soul, which cannot of itself re-
turn to re-inhabit and quicken the body.
Put to death.] His death was both vo-
luntary and violent ; that same power that
restored his life could have kept it exempt
from death ; but the design was for death.
He therefore took our flesh, to put it off
thus, and offered it up as a sacrifice ; which,
to be acceptable, must of necessity be free
and voluntary ; arid, in that sense, he is said
to have died even by that same Spirit, that
here, in opposition to death, is said to quick-
en him, Heb. ix. 14, Through the eternal
Spirit, he offered himself without spot unto
God. They accounted it an ill boding sign
when the sacrifices came constrainedly to the
altar, and drew back ; and, on the contrary,
were glad in the hopes of success, when they
came cheerfully forward ; but never sacrifice
came so willingly all the way, and from the
first step knew whither he was going. Yet,
because no other sacrifice would serve, he was
most content : Sacrifices and burnt offerings
thou didst not desire : Then said I, Lo, I
come, &c. Psal. xl. 6, 7- He was not only
a willing sacrifice, as Isaac, bound peaceably
and laid on the altar, but his own sacrificer.
The beasts, if they came willingly, yet offered
not themselves ; but he offered up himself ;
and thus, not only by a willingness far above
all those sacrifices of bullocks and goats, but
by the eternal Spirit, he offered up himself.
Therefore he says, in this regard, I lay down
myself for my sheep ; it is not pulled from
me, but I lay it down ; and so it is often ex-
pressed by
suits with it,
he died ; and yet this
put to death ; yea,
it was also expedient to be thus, that his
death should be violent, and so the more
penal, so as to carry the more clear expression
of a punishment, and such a violent death as
had both ignominy and a curse tied to it ;
and this inflicted in a judicial way, (though
as from the hands of most men most unjust-
ly,) that he should stand and be judged, and
condemned to death as a guilty person, carry-
ing in that the persons of so many that should
VEH. 18.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
211
otherwise have fallen under condemnation, as
indeed guilty : He was numbered with
transgressors, (as the Prophet hath it,) bear-
ing the sins of many, Isa. liii. ult.
Thus, then, there was in his death exter-
nal violence joined with internal willingness :
But what is there to be found but complica-
tions of wonders in our Lord Jesus ? Oh !
high inconceivable mystery of godliness !
God manifested in the flesh ! Nothing in
this worlu «o strange, and sweet, as that con-
juncture, God man, humanitas Dei ! What
a strong foundation of friendship and union
betwixt the person of man and God, that
their natures met in so close embraces in one
person ! And then look on, and see so poor
and despised an outward condition through
his life ; yet having hid under it the majesty
of God, all the brightness of the Father's
glory ; and this the top of all, that he was
put to death in the flesh ; the Lord of life
dying, the Lord of glory clothed with shame.
But it quickly appeared what kind of person
it was that died ; by this, he was put to death
indeed in the flesh, but quickened by the
Spirit.
Quickened.] He was indeed too great a
morsel for the grave to digest. For all its
vast craving mouth, and devouring appetite,
crying Sheol, Give, give : yet it was forced
to give him up again, as the fish which
swallowed up the Prophet Jonah, when the
Lord spake, was obliged to vomit him out,
who in that was the figure of Christ, Jonah
i. 17 ; ii. 10. The chains of that prison are
strong ; but he was too strong a prisoner to
be held by them ; as our Apostle hath it in
his sermon, Acts ii. 24, that it was not pos-
tible that he should be kept by them. They
thought all was sure, when they had rolled
to the stone, and sealed it ; that when the
grave had indeed shut her mouth upon him,
it appeared a done business to them, and look-
ed as if it were very complete in his enemies'
eyes, and very desperate to his friends, his
poor disciples and followers. Were they not
near the point of giving over, when they said,
This is the third day, &c. And we thought
this had been he that should have delivered
Israel? Luke xxiv. 21. And yet he was
then with them, who was indeed the Deli-
verer and Salvation of Israel. That roll-
ing of the stone to the grave, was as if they
had rolled it towards the east in the night, to
. top the rising of the sun next morning ; much
further above all their watches and power was
this Sun of Righteousness in his rising
again. That body that was entombed, was
united to the spring of life, the divine Spirit
of the Godhead that quickened it.
Reflection 1. Thus the Church, which
is likewise his body, when it seems undone,
when it is brought to the lowest posture and
state, yet by virtue of that mystical union
with Jesus Christ, (as his natural body, by
personal union with his Deity,) shall be pre-
served from destruction, and shall be deli,
vered and raised in due time : Yea, as he
was nearest his exaltation in the lowest step
of his humiliation, so is it with his Church :
when things are brought to the most hopeless
appearance, then shall light arise out of
darkness : Cum duplicanlur lateres venit
Moses.
Therefore, as we ought to seek a more
humble sense of Sion's distress, so we should
also be solicitous not to let go this hope, that
her mighty Lord will, in the end, be glorious
in her deliverance, and that all her sufferings
and low estate shall be as dark ground to set
off the lustre of her restoration, when the
Lord shall visit her with salvation. As in
the rising of Jesus Christ, his Almighty
Power and Deity were more manifested than
if he had not died : And therefore we may
say confidently, with the Psalmist to his
Lord, Psal. Ix'xi. 20, 21, Thou, which hast
shewed me great and sore troubles, shall
quicken me again, and shall bring me up
from the depths of the earth : Thou shalt
increase my greatness, and comfort me on
every side. Yea, the Church comes more
beautiful out of the deepest distress ; let if
be overwhelmed with waves, yet it sinks not
but rises up as only washed. And in this
confidence we ought to rejoice even in the
midst of our sorrows ; and, though we live
not to see them, yet, even in beholding afar
off, to be gladdened with the great thing's the
Lord will do for his Church in the 'latter
times. He will certainly make bare his holy
arm in the eyes of the nations, and all the
ends of the earth shall see the salvation of
our God, Isa. lii. 10. His King that he
hath set on his holy hill, shall grow in his
conquests and glory ; and all that rise against
him shall he break with a rod of iron, Psal.
ii. He was humbled once, but his glory
shall be for ever ; as many were astonishea
at him, his visage being marred more than
any man, they shall be as much astonished
at his beauty and glory. So shall he sprin.
kle many nations ; the kings shall shut
their mouths at him, Isa. lii. 14, 15. Ac-
cording as here, we find that remarkable evi-
dence of his divine power in rising from the
dead ; put to death in the flesh, but quick-
ened by the Spirit.
2. Thus may a believing soul at the low-
est, when, to its own sense, it is given over
unto death and swallowed up of it, as it were
« n the belly of hell, yet look up to this divine
power : He whose soul was not left there,
will not leave thine there. Yea, when thou
art most sunk in thy sad apprehensions, and
far off to thy thinking, then is he nearest to
raise and comfort thee ; as sometimes it
grows darkest immediately before day. Rest
on his power and goodness, which never fail-
ed any Aat did so : It is he (as David says)
212
A COMMENTARY UPON
ICHAP. nt.
that lifts up I fie soul from the gales of death,
Isa. ix. 13.
3. Would any of you be cured of that
common disease, the fear of death, look this
way, and you shall find more than you seek ;
you shall be taught, not only not to fear,
but to love it. Consider, 1. His death : He
died. By that, thou that receivest him as
thy life, mayest be sure of this, that thou
art by that his death, freed from the second
death," and that is the great point. Let
that have the name which was given to the
other, the TMtt terrible of all terrible
things { and as the second death is remov-
ed, this death that thou art to pass through
is, I may say, beautified and sweetened;
the ugly visage of it becomes amiable, when
re look on it in Christ, and in his death,
that puts such a pleasing comeliness upon
it, that whereas others fly from it with af-
frightment, the believer cannot choose but
embrace it. He longs to lie down in that
bed of rest, since his Lord lay in it, and
hath warmed that cold bed, and purified it
with his fragrant body. 2. But especially
look forward to his return thence, quicken-
ed by the Spirit ; this being to those that
are in him the certain pledge, yea, the ef-
fectual cause, of that blessed resurrection
lhat is in their hopes. There is that union
betwixt them, that they shall rise by the
communication and virtue of his rising ; not
simply by his power, so the wicked to their
grief shall be raised, but they by his life,
as theirs. Therefore is it so often reiterat-
ed, John vi. where he speaks of himself as
the living and life-giving bread to believers,
he adds again and again, / will raise them
up at the last day, ver. 39, 40, 44. This
comfort we have even for the house of clay
we lay down ; and for our more considerable
part, our immortal souls, this his death and
rising hath provided for them, at their dis-
lodging, an entrance into that glory where
he is. Now, if these things were lively ap-
prehended and laid hold on, Christ made
ours, and the first resurrection manifest in us,
were we quickened by his Spirit to newness
of life, certainly there would not be a more
welcome and refreshing thought nor a sweeter
discourse to us, than that of death ; and no
matter for the kind of it. Were it a violent
death ; so was his. Were it what we ac-
count most judgment-like amongst diseases,
the plague ; was not his death very painful ?
and was it not an accursed death ? and by
that curse endured by him in his, is not the
curse taken away to the believer ? Oh how
welcome shall that day be, that day of deli-
verance ! To be out of this woful prison,
I regard not at what door I go out, being at
once freed from so many deaths, and let in
to enjoy Him who is my life.
* Descendit hue vita nostra, et tulit mortem nos-
triin, ct occidit cam de abundantia vitac, &c. AUG.
VER. 19. By which also he went and preached unto
the spirits in prison :
VER. 20. Which sometime were disobedient, when
once the long-suffering of God waited in the days
of Noe, while the ark was a-preparing, wherein
few, that is, eight souls, were saved by water.
VER. 21. The like figure whereunto even bap-
tism doth also now save us, (not the putting
away of the filth of the flesh, but the answer of a
good conscience toward God,) by the resurrection
of Jesus Christ.
THERE is nothing that so much concerns
a Christian to know as the excellency of
Jesus Christ, his person and works ; so tnat
it is always pertinent to insist much on that
subject. The Apostle having spoken of
this Spirit or divine nature, and the power
of it, raising him from the dead, takes occa-
sion to speak of another work of that Spirit,
to wit, the emission and publishing of his
divine doctrine ; and that, not as a new
thing following his death and rising, but as
the same in substance with that which was
by the same Spirit promulgated long before,
even to the first inhabitants of the world.
Quickened by the Spirit that is in our days,
says the Apostle ; but then, long before
that, by the same Spirit, he went and
preached to the spirits in prison.
This place is somewhat obscure in itself,
but as it usually happens, made more so by
the various fancies and contests of interpre-
ters, aiming or pretending to clear it. These
I like never to make a noise of. They that
dream of the descent of Christ's soul into
hell, thinks this place somewhat that way ;
but, being examined, it proves no way suit-
able, nor can, by the strongest wresting, be
drawn to fit their purpose : For, 1. That it
was to preach he went thither, they are
not willing to avow ; though the end they
assign is as groundless and imaginary as
this is. 2. They would have his business
to be with the spirits of the faithful deceas-
ed before his coming, but here we see it is
with the disobedient. And, 3. His Spirit
here is the same with the sense of the fore-
going words, which mean not his soul, but
his eternal deity. Nor is it the spirits that
were in prison, as they read it, but the
spirits in prison, which by the opposition of
their former condition, sometime or former-
ly disobedient, doth clearly speak their pre-
sent condition, as the just consequent and
fruit of their disobedience.
Other misinterpretations I mention not,
taking it as agreeable to the whole strain of
the Apostle's words,* that Jesus Christ did,
* Thus I then thought, but now apprehend another
sense as probable, if not more, even that so much
rejected by most interpreters: The mission of the
Spirit, and preaching of the Gospel by it, after his
resurrection, preaching to sinners, and converting
them, according to the prophecy which he first ful-
filled in person, and after more amply in his Apostles.
That prophecy I mean, Isa. Ix. I, The Spirit upon
him; and it was sent from him on his Apostles, to
preach to spirits in prison ; to preach liberty to those
captives, captive spirits ; and therefore called spirttit
in prison, to illustrate the thing the more, by opposi-
tion to that Spirit of Christ, the Spirit of liberty,
VEH. 19—21.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
betore his appearing in the flesh, speak by
his Spirit in his servants to those of the
foregoing ages, yea the most ancient of
them, declaring to them the way of life,
though rejected by the unbelief of the most
part. This is inserted in the mentioning of
Christ's sufferings and exaltation after them.
And, after all, the Apostle returns to that
again, and to the exhortation which he
strengthens by it ; but so as this discourse
taken in, is pertinently adapted to the pre-
sent subject. The Apostle's aim in it, we
may conceive to be this, (his main scope
being to encourage his brethren in the faith
of Christ, and the way of holiness, against
all opposition and hardship) so to instruct
his readers in Christ's perpetual influence
into his Church in all ages, even before his
incarnation, as that they might at the same
time see the great unbelief of the world, yea
their opposing of divine truth, and the small
number of those that receive it, and so not
be discouraged by the fewness of their num-
ber, and the hatred of the world ; finding
that salvation in Jesus Christ dead and
risen again, which the rest miss by their
own wilful refusal. And this very point he
insists on clearly in the following chapter,
ver. 3, 4. And those very ways of ungod-
liness there specified, which believers re-
nounce, were those that the world was guilty
of in these days, and in which they were
surprised by the flood : They ate and drank
till the flood came upon them.
In the words of these three verses we have
three things : 1. An assertion concerning
the preaching of Christ, and the persons he
preached to. 2. The designment and de-
scription of the time or age wherein that was,
and the particular way of God's dealing with
them. 3. The adapting or applying of the
example to Christians — First, the assertion
concerning the preaching of Christ, and the
persons he preached to, in these words, which
I take together, By the which Spirit he
went and preached to the spirits in prison,
which sometime were disobedient.
In these words we have a preacher and his
hearers. First, Of the preacher. We shall
find here, 1. His ability. 2. His activity
in the use of it. 1. His ability, altogether
singular and matchless ; the very spring of
all abilities, the Spirit of Wisdom himself,
being the co-eternal Son of GoJ : That
Spirit he preached by, was that Spirit by
which he raised himself from the dead ; and
without this Spirit there is no preaching :
Now he was, as our Apostle calls him, a
setting them free ; and this to shew the greater effi-
cacy of Christ's preaching than of Noah's, though he,
a signal preacher of righteousness, yet only himself
and his family, eight persons saved by him, but
multitudes of all nations by the bpirit and preaching
of Christ in the Gospel ; and that by the seal of bap
tism, and the resurrection of Christ, represented in
the return from the water, and our dying with him
by immersion, and that figure of baptism like their
afk
preacher of righteousness ; but it was by
the power of this Spirit ; for in him did this
Spirit preach. The Son is the Wisdom of
the Father : his name is the Word ; not
only for that by him all things were created,
as John hath it, John i. 4 ; not only as the
Son is that power by which, as by the word
of his mouth, all things were made ; but he
is the IVord likewise as revealing the Fa-
ther ; declaring to us the counsel and will
of God : therefore he is by the same Evan-
gelist, in the same place, called that Light
that illuminates the world, John i. 9, with-
out which man, called the lesser world, the
intellectual world, were as the greater world
without the sun. And all that bring aright
the doctrine of saving wisdom, derive it ne-
cessarily from him ; all preachers draw from
this Sovereign Preacher, as the fountain of
divine light, as all the planets receive their
light from the sun, and by that diffusing
amongst them, it is not diminished in the
sun, but only communicated to them, re-
maining still full and entire in it, as its
source. Thus doth the Spirit flow from
Christ, in a particular degree, unto those he
sends forth in his name, and it is in them,
that he preaches by the power and light of
his eternal Spirit.
Hither, then, must they all come that
would be rightly supplied and enabled for
that work. It is impossible to speak duly
of him in any measure, but by his Spirit.
There must be particular access, and a re-
ceiving of instructions from him, and a trans-
fusion of his Spirit into ours. Oh ! were
it thus with us, how sweet were it to speak
of him ! To be much in prayer, much de-
pendence on him, and drawing from him,
would do much more in this, than reading
and studying, sseking after hearts and
tongues, and common knowledge. These,
indeed, are not to be despised nor neglected.
Reading is good, and learning good, but
above all anointing is necessary, that anoint'
ing that teacheth all things.* And you
that are for your own interest, be earnest
with this Lord, this Fountain of Spirit, to
let forth more of it upon his messengers in
these times ; you would receive back the
fruit of it, were ye busy this way ; you should
find more life and refreshing sweetness in
the word of life, how weak and worthless so-
ever they were that brought it ; it should
descend as sweet showers upon the valleys,
and make them fruitful.
2. We have the activity of Christ as a
preacher. By this Spirit, it is said here, he
preached : Not only did he so in the days
of his abode on earth, but in all times, both
before and after ; he never left his Church
altogether destitute of saving light, which he
dispensed himself, and conveyed by the hands
» Utilis lectio, utilis eruditio, sed magis unctio ne-
cessaria, quUu>e uua- sola docet de omnibus. BERN.
214
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. irt.
of his servants ; therefore it is said, he preach-
ed ; that this may be no excuse for times
after he is ascended into heaven, no, nor for
times before he descended to the earth in
human flesh ; though he preached not then,
nor does now in his flesh, yet by his Spirit
he then preached, and still doth ; so ac-
cording to what was chief in him, he was
still present with his Church, and preaching
in it, and is so to the end of the world.
This his infinite Spirit, being every where,
yet it is said here, by it he went and preach-
ed, signifying the remarkable clearness of
his adminstration that way : As when he
appears eminently in any work of his own,
or taking notice of our works, God is said
to come down ; so to those cities of Babel
and Sodom, Gen. xi. 5, 7, Let us go down ;
and, Gen. xviii. 21, / will go down and see ;
So, Exod. iii. 8, / am come down to deliver
Israel : Thus here, so clearly did he ad-
monish them by Noah, coming as it were
himself on purpose to declare his mind to
them. And this word, I conceive, is the
rather used to shew what equality there is in
this ; He came, indeed, visibly, and dwelt
amongst men, when he became flesh ; yet
before that, he visited by his Spirit ; he
went by that and preached. And so in after-
times, himself being ascended, and not hav-
ing come visibly in his flesh to all, but to
the Jews only ; yet in the preaching of the
Apostles to the Gentiles, as the great Apos-
tle says of him in this expression, Eph. ii.
17) he came and preached to you which
were afar off"; and this he continues to do
in the ministry of his word : And therefore,
says he, He that despiseth you, despiseth
me, Luke x. 1C.
Were this considered, it could not but
procure far more respect to the word, and
more acceptance of it. Would you think
that in his word Christ speaks by his eternal
Spirit ? yea, he comes, and preaches, ad-
dresses himself particularly to you in it :
could you slight him thus, and turn him off
with daily refusals, or delays at least ?
Think it is too long you have so unworthily
used so great a Lord, that brings unto you
so great salvation ; that came once in so
wonderful a way to work that salvation for
us in his flesh, and is still coming to offer
it unto us by his Spirit ; does himself preach
to us, tell ns what he undertook on our be-
half, and how he hath performed all ; and
now nothing rests but that we receive him,
and believe on him, and all is ours. But
alas ! from the most the return is, which we
have here, disobedience. And this is what
we are,
2dly, To consider of his hearers. You
may indeed observe two things in these hear-
ers, by which they are characterized : their
present condition in the time the Apostle
was speaking of them, they are spirits in
prison ; and this former disposition, when
the Spirit of Christ was preaching to them,
they were sometime disobedient : This
latter went first in time, and was the cause
of the other. Therefore of it first.
I. The past disposition of the hearer*
spoken of; they were sometime disobedient.
If you look to their visible subordinate preach .
er, you find he was a holy man, and an able
and diligent preacher of righteousness, both
in his doctrine, and in the track of his life,
which is the most powerful preaching ; on
both which accounts it seems strange that
he prevailed so little. But it appears much
more so, if we look higher, even to this
height, at which the Apostle points, that
Almighty Spirit of Christ that preached to
them : and yet they were disobedient. The
word is a.'7rii6-r,<rci<Ti, they were not persuaded ;
and it signifies both unbelief and disobedi.
ence, and that very fitly ; unbelief being in
itself the grand disobedience, the mind not
yielding to divine truth, and so the spring
of all disobedience, in affection and action.
And this root of bitterness, this unbelief,
as deep fastened in our natural hearts ; and
without a change in them, a taking them to
pieces, they cannot be good. It is as a tree
firmly rooted, which cannot be plucked up
without loosening the ground round about
it ; and this accursed root brings forth fruit
unto death, because the word is not believed ;
the threats of the law, and promises of the
gospel : Therefore men cleave unto their
sins, and speak peace unto themselves while
they are under the curse.
It may seem very strange that the gospel
is so fruitless amongst us ; yea, that neither
word nor rod, both preaching aloud to us the
doctrine of humiliation and repentance, per-
suade any man to return, or so much as to
turn inward, and question himself to say,
What have I done ? But thus it will be,
till the Spirit be poured from on high, to
open and soften hearts. It is to be desired,
as much wanting in the ministry of the word ;
but were it there, that would not serve unless
it were by a concurrent work within the
heart, meeting the word, and making the
impressions of it there ; for here we find the
Spirit went and preached, and yet the spirits
of the hearers still unbelieving and disobe-
dient. It is therefore a combined work of
this Spirit in the preacher and hearers that
makes it successful, otherwise it is but shout-
ing in a dead man's ear ; there must be some-
thing within, as one said in a like case.
But, 2dly, We have the present condition
of these hearers, To the spirits in prison
That is now their posture : and because he
speaks of them as in that posture, he calls
them spirits ; for it is their spirits that are
in that prison ; and likewise calls them spirits
to whom the Spirit of Christ preached ; be-
cause it is indeed that which the preaching
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
VER. 19—21.]
of the word aims at ; it hath to do with the
spirits of men. It is not content to be at
their ear with a sound, but works on their
minds and spirits some way, either to believe
and receive, or to be hardened and sealed up
to judgment by it, which is for rebels. If
disobedience follow on the preaching of that
word, the prison follows on that disobedience ;
and that word, by which they would not be
bound to obedience, binds them over to that
prison, whence they shall never escape, nor
be released for ever.
Take notice of it, and know that you are
v«amed ; you will not receive salvation, offer-
ing, pressing itself upon you. You are every
day in that way of disobedience, hastening to
this perpetual imprisonment.
Consider you now sit and hear this word ;
so did those that are here spoken of: they
had their time on earth, and much patience
was used towards them ; and though you are
not to be swept away by a flood of waters,
yet you are daily carried on by the flood
of time and mortality, Psal. xc. 5. And
how soon you shall be on the other side,
and sent into eternity, you know not. I be-
seech you, be yet wise ; hearken to the offers
yet made you ; for in his name I yet once
again make a tender of Jesus Christ and
salvation in him, to all that will let go
their sins, to lay hold on him. Oh ! do
not destroy yourselves. You are in prison,
he proclaims unto you liberty, Christ is still
following us himself with treaties.* Christ
proclaims your liberty, and will you not ac-
cept of it ? Think, though you are pleased
with your present thraldom and prison, it re-
serves you (if you come not forth) to this othe
prison, that shall not please you : these
chains of spiritual darkness, in which you
are, unless you be freed, will deliver you up
to the chains of everlasting darkness, where
in these hopeless prisoners are kept to the
judgment of the great day ; but if you will
receive Jesus Christ presently, upon that,
life, and liberty, and blessedness, are made
yours. // the Son make you free, you shall
be free indeed, John viii. 35.
2dly, We have the designation of the time
or age of this preacher considered under the
former head : When once the long-suffer-
ing of God waited in the days of Noah.]
There are two main continuing wonders ir
the world ; the bounty of God and disloyalty
of man : And the succession of times is no
other but new additions of these two. One
grand example is here set before us, an oecu-
menical example as large as the whole world
much patience, and yet invincible disobe-
dience. Here are two things in the instance
1st, The Lord's general dealing with the
world of the ungodly at that time, -illy
His peculiar way with his own chosen. Noah
* damans dictis, factis, morte, vita, descensu, ascen
su, damans ut redeamus ad eum. Auu.
215
and his family : lie waited patiently for all
he rest ; but he. effectually saved them.
Obs. I. The time designed thus, in the
days of Noah. There were many great and
xwerful persons in these days, that over-
:opped Noah (no doubt) in outward respects,
as well as in their stature, the proud giants ;
ind they begot children, mighty men of old,
men of renown, as the text hath it, Gen. vi.
3. And yet as themselves perished in the
food, their names are drowned. They had
their big thoughts certainly, that their houses
and their names should continue, as the
Psalmist speaks, Psal. xlix. 11, and yet
they are sunk in perpetual oblivion. And
Noah's name, who walked in humble obe-
dience, you see in these most precious records
of God's own book, still looks fresh and
smells sweet, and hath this honour, that the
very age of the world is marked with this
name, to be known by it : In the days of
Noah. That which profane ambitious per-
sons do idolatrously seek after, they are often
remarkably disappointed of: They would
have their names memorable and famous,
yet they rot ; they are either buried with
them, or remembered with disgrace ; and rot-
ting above ground as carcases uninterred,
and so are the more noisome ; and it is as
little credit to them to be mentioned, as for
Pilate that his name is in the Confession of
Faith. But the name and remembrance of
the righteous is still sweet and delightful •
As the name of Abraham, the father of the
faithful, and of Isaac and Jacob : ' Their
names are embalmed indeed, that they can-
not rot ; embalmed with God's own name,
[Eternal ;] that name is wrapt about theirs,
The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
Thus is Noah here mentioned as preferred
of God : and so in the second epistle, as a
preacher of righteousness ; and Heb. xi.
among those worthies whose honour is that
they believed. This is only a name, a small
thing not to be mentioned in comparison of
their other privileges, and especially of that
venerable life and glory which they are heirs
to. And indeed it is a thing they regard
very little ; yet this we see, that even this
advantage follows them, and flies from the
vain and ungodly that hunt and pursue it.
Obs. 2. The Lord's dealing with the wick,
ed in those times, before he swept them away
by the deluge, is represented in these two
particulars: 1. Long-suffering; and withal,
2. Clear warning. Long-suffering; long
forbearing to be angry, as the Hebrew word
is in his name, Exod. xxxiv. 8 ; which sup-
poses a great provocation, and the continu-
ance of it, and yet patience continuing. And
in this appears the goodness of God, consi-
dering how hateful sin is to him, and how
powerful he is to punish it; were it, if it
pleased him, in one moment to cut off all the
ungodly, high and low, throughout the whole
216
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP, in
world : yet he bears, and forbears to punish
Oh ! what a world of sin is every day com
mitted in nations, in cities and villages, yea
in families ! and therefore how wonderful is
it that he doth not strike with present judg
raents, and not only forbears to punish, bu
multiplies his common mercies on them
Sun and rain, and fruitful seasons ! Acts
xiv. 17-
Yea, there is so much of this, that it falls
under a gross misconstruction ; yet he bears
that too. Because sentence against an evil
work is not speedily executed, therefore the
heart of the sons of men is fully set in them
to do evil, Eccles. viii. 11. Because there
is not so much as a word of it for the time,
(so the word is,) this swells and fills the
heart of man, and makes it big to do evil.
And not only is the Lord's long-suffering
mistaken by the ungodly, but even by his
own that should understand him better, and
know the true sense of his ways ; yet some-
times they are misled in this point : Behold-
ing his forbearance of punishing the workers
of iniquity, instead of magnifying his pa-
tience, they fall very near unto questioning
his justice and providence, Psal. xiii. Jer.
xii. Job xx. &c. Our narrow hasty spirits,
left to their own measures, take not in these
larger views that would satisfy us in the ways
of God, and forget the immense largeness ol
nis wise designs, his deep reach from one
age to another, yea, from eternity to eterni-
ty. Consider, 1. How easily he can right
himself, in point of justice, when he will ;
that none can make escape from him,* how
loose soever their guard seem, and how great
liberty soever appears in their present con-
dition. 2. That as he can most easily, so
he will most seasonably, be known in execut-
ing judgment ; and that his justice shall
shine the brighter, by all that patience he
hath used, by the sun of prosperity. 3. We
think not how little that time is to him, that
seems long to us, to whom a thousand
years are as one day, Psal. xc. 4. It seem-
ed a long time of the Church's distress, and
their enemies' triumph, in those seventy
years of the Babylonish captivity ; and yet
in God's language, it is spoken of as a mo-
ment, a small moment, Isa. liv. 7, 8. How-
ever, in the issue, the Lord always clears
himself; he is indeed long-suffering and
patient ; but the impenitent abusers of his
patience pay interest for all the time of their
forbearance, in the weight of judgment when
it comes upon them. But thus we see the
Lord deals ; thus he dealt with the world in
the beginning, when all flesh had corrupt-
ed their way ; yet, saith he, their days
shall be one hundred and twentii years
Gen. vi. 3.
Let us learn to curb and cool our brisk
* Nomo dccoquitliuiccrediton.
humours towards even stubborn sinners ; be
grieved at their sin, for that is our duty ;
but think it not strange, nor fret at it, that
they continue to abuse the long-suffering of
God, and yet that he continues ever abused
by suffering them. Zeal is good, but as it
springs from love, if it be right, so it is re-
quited by love, and carries the impressions
of that, of love to God, and so a complacency
in his way, liking it because it is his ; and
of love to men, so as to be pleased with that
waiting for them, in possibility, at least, of
their being reclaimed ; knowing that, how-
ever, if they return not, yet the Lord will
not lose his own at their hands. Wilt than,
said these two fiery disciples, that we call
for fire, as Elias? Oh ! but the spirit of
the dove rested on him that told them, They
knew not what spirit they were of, Luke
ix. 54, 55. You speak of Elias, and you
think you are of his spirit in this motion :
But you mistake yourselves ; that comes
from another spirit than you imagine : In-
stead of looking for such sudden justice with-
out you, look inward, and see whence that
is ; examine and correct within you.
When you are tempted to take ill that
goodness and patience of God to sinners,
consider, 1. Can this be right, to differ
from his mind in any thing ? Is it not our
only wisdom, and ever safe rule, to think
as he thinks, and will as he wills ? And I
pray you, does he not hate sin more than
you do ? Is not his interest in punishing it
deeper than yours ? And if you be zealous
for his interest, as you pretend, then be so
with him, and in his way ; for starting from
that, sure you are wrong. 2. Consider, did
he not wait for thee ? What had become
of thee, if long-suffering had not subserved
his purpose of further mercy, of free pardon
to thee ? And why wilt thou not always
allow that to which thou art so much oblig-
ed ? Wouldest thou have the bridge cut
because thou art over ? Sure thou wilt not
own so gross a thought. Therefore, esteem
thy God still the more thou seest of his long-
suffering to sinners ; and learn from him,
and with him, to bear and wait.
But, 2dly, This was not a dumb forbear-
ance, such as may serve for a surprise, but
continual teaching, and warning joined with
t, as before. We see they wanted not
preaching of the choicest kind. He, the
Son of God, by his eternal Spirit, went
and preached to them. It was his truth
n Noah's mouth, and with that we have a
continued real sermon, expressed in this verse,
While the ark was preparing : that spoke
jrod's mind, and every knock (as the usual
observation is) of the hammers and tools
used in building, preached to them, threat-
ning aloud designed judgment, and exhort,
ng to prevent it. And therefore that word
s added, t|sSs^£ra, that the long-suffer-
VEE. 10—21.-]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
217
ing of God waited or expected ; expected a
believing of his word, 'and returning from
their wickedness : But we see no such thing
followed ; they took their own course still,
and therefore the Lord took his. They had
polluted the earth with their wickedness ;
now, the Lord would have the cleansing by
repentance ; that being denied, it must be
another way, by a flood : And because they
and their sins remained one, they would not
part with them, therefore was one work
made of both ; they and their sins, as in-
separable, must be cleansed away together.
Thus impenitency, under much long-
suffering, makes judgment full and complete.
I appeal to you, hath not the Lord used
much forbearance toward us ? Hath he not
patiently spared us, and clearly warned us,
and waited long for the fruit of all ? Hath
any thing been wanting ? Have not tem-
poral mercies been multiplied on us ?
Have not the spiritual riches of the Gospel
been opened up to us ?
And each of you, for yourselves, consider
how it is with you after so much long-suffer-
ing of God, which none of you can deny he
hath used towards you, and so many gracious
invitations, with that patience, have they
gained your hearts ? or do you still remain
servants to sin, still strangers to him, and
formal worshippers ? I beseech you think
on it, what will be the issue of that course ?
Is it a light matter to you to die in your sins,
and to have the wrath of God abiding on
you £ To have refused Christ so often, and
that after you have been so often requested
to receive salvation ; after the Lord hath fol-
lowed you with intreaties, hath called to
you so often, Why will ye die ? yet wil-
fully to perish, and withal to have all these
intreaties come in and accuse you, and make
your burden heavier ? Would you willingly
die in this estate ? If not, then think that
yet he is waiting, if at length you will re-
turn. This one day more of his waiting
you have, and of his speaking to you ; anc
some that were here with you the last day
are taken away since. Oh ! that we were
wise, and would -consider our latter end
Deut. xxxii. 29. Though there were neithei
sword nor pestilence near you, you must die
and, for any thing you know, quickly. Whj
wear you out the day of grace and those pre>
cious seasons still, as uncertain of Christ
yea, as undiligent after him, as you were
long ago ? As you love your souls, be more
serious in their business. This was the un
doing of the sinners we are speaking of
they were all for present things ; they alt
and drank, they married, in a continua
course, without ceasing, and without mind
ing their after estate, Luke xvii. 27. Thej
were drowned in these things, and that drown
ed them in a flood. Noah did also eat am
drink, but his main work was in that tim
le preparing of the ark. The necessities of
lis life the children of God are tied to, and
orced to bestow some time and pains* on
hem ; but the thing that takes up their
learts, that which the bent of their souls is
et on, is their interest in Jesus Christ :
And all your wise designs are but a pleasing
madness, till this be chief with you. Others
lave had as much of God's patience, and as
air opportunity, as you, whose souls and
Ihrist had never met, and now know that
hey never shall. They had their time of
orldly projects and enjoyment, as you now
>ave, and followed them, as if they had been
mmortally to abide with them ; but they
are passed away as a shadow, and we are
>osting after them, and within a while
hall lie down in the dust. Oh ! how happy
hey, whose hearts are not here, trading with
anity, and gathering vexation, but whose
thoughts are on that blessed life above
rouble. Certainly they that pass for fools
n the world, are the only children of wis-
dom ; that have renounced their lusts and
heir own wills, have yielded up themselves
,o Jesus, taking him for their King, and
laving their minds resting on him as their
salvation.
While the ark was a-preparing.~\ Ob-
serve, The delay of the Lord's determined
udgtnent on the ungodly was indeed long-
suffering towards them ; but here was more
n it to Noah and his family ; the providing
for their preservation ; and till that was corn-
Dieted for them, the rest were spared. Thus.
:he very forbearance that the ungodly do en-
oy, is usually involved with the interest of
the godly ; something of that usually goes
into it ; and so it is in a great part for their
sakes. that the rest are both spared, and are
furnished with common mercies. The saints
are usually the scorn and contempt of others ;
yet are, by that love the Lord carries towards
them, the very arches, pillars of states and
kingdoms, and families, where they are, yea
of the world ;* the frame whereof is contu
nued mainly in regard to them, Isa. vi. 13,
But they that are ungrateful to the great
Maker and upholder of it, and regardless of
him, what wonder if they take no notice of
the advantage they receive by the concern-
ment of his children in the world. Observe,
Here, I. The work. II. The end of it,
I. In the work, preparing of the ark, observe,
1st, God's appointment ; 2dly, Noah's obe»
dience.
]st, For the appointment of God. The
divine power was not tied to this, yet his
wisdom chose it. He that steered the course
of this ark safely all that time, could have
preserved those he designed it for without it;
but thus it pleases the Lord, usually, to mix
his most wonderful deliverances with soma
» Semen sanctum statumen terrae
218
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. itr.
selected means ; exercising that way our obe-
dience in their use, yet so as the singular
power of his hand in them, whereon faith
rests, doth clearly appear, doing by them what,
in a more natural way, they could not possi-
bly effect.
'•Idly, For the obedience of Noah, if we
should insist on the difficulties, both in this
work, and in the way of their preservation
by it, it would look the clearer, and be found
very remarkable. The length of the work,
the great pains in providing materials, espe-
cially considering the opposition that proba-
bly he met with in it from the profane about
him, the mightier of them at least, the hatred
and continual scoffs of all sorts, it required
principles of an invincible resolution to go
through with it. What, (would they say,)
means this old dotard to do ? whither this
monstrous voyage ? and for that it spoke, as
no doubt he told them their ruin, and his
safety ; this would incense them so much the
more. You look far before you ; and what,
shall we all perish, and you alone escape ?
But through all, the sovereign command and
gracious promise of his God carried him,
regarding their scoffs and threats as little
in making the ark, as he did afterwards
the noise of the waters about it, when he
was sitting safe within it. This his obe-
dience, having indeed so boisterous winds
to encounter, had need of a well fastened
root, that it might stand and hold out
against them all ; and so it had. The apos-
tle St. Paul tells us what the root of it was ;
by faith, being warned of God, prepared an
ark, Heb. xi. 7- And there is no living and
lasting obedience but what springs from that
root : He believed what the Lord spake of
his determined judgment on the ungodly
world ; and from the belief of that arose that
holy fear, which is expressly mentioned as
exciting him to this work. And he believ-
ed the word of promise, that the Lord spake
concerning his preservation by the ark ; and
the belief of these two carried him strongly
on to the work, and through it, against all
counter blasts and opposition ; overcame his
own doublings, and the mockings of the wick-
ed, still looking to him that was the master
and contriver of the work.
Till we attain such a fixed view of our
God, and such firm persuasion of his truth,
and power, and goodness, it will never be
right with us. There will be nothing but
wavering and unsettledness in our spirits and
in our ways ; every little discouragement from
within, or without, that meets us, will b
like to turn us over. We shall not walk in
an even course, but still reeling and dagger-
ing, till faith be set wholly upon its own
basis, the proper foundation of it : not set be-
twixt two, upon one strong prop, and ano-
ther that is rotten, partly on God, and part-
ly on creature helps and encouragements, or
OUT own strength ; that is the way to fall off.
Our only safe and happy way, is, in humble
obedience, in his own strength, to follow his
appointments without standing and question-
ing the matter, and to resign the conduct of
all to his wisdom and love ; to put the rud-
der of our life into his hand, to steer the
course of it as seemeth him good, resting
quietly on his word of premise for our safety.
Lord, whither thou wilt, and which way thou
wilt, be thou my guide, and it sufficeth.
This absolute following of God, and trust-
ing him with all, is marked as the true cha-
racter of faith in Abraham, going after God
from his country, not knowing nor asking
whither he went, Heb. xi. 8, secure in his
guide. And so in that other greater point
of offering his son, he silenced all disputes
about it, by that mighty conclusion of faith,
accounting that he wets able to raise him
from the dead, Heb. xi. 19. Thus here,
Noah by faith prepared the ark ; did no',
argue and question how shall this be done,
and if it were, how shall I get all the kinds
of beasts gathered together to put into it, and
how shall it be ended, when we are shut in ?
No, but believed firmly that it should be fi-
nished by him, and he saved by it ; and he was
not disappointed.
II. The end of this work was the saving
o/Noah, and his family, from the general de-
luge, wherein all the rest perished.
Here it will be fit to consider the point of
the preservation of the godly in ordinary and
common calamities, briefly, in these positions.
1. It is certain that the children of God,
as they are not exempted from the common
universal calamities and evils of this life, that
befal the rest of men, so not from any parti-
cular kind of them. As it is appointed for
them, with all others once to die, Heb. ix. 27,
so we find them not privileged from any kind
of disease, or other way of death ; not from
falling by sword, or by pestilence, or in the
frenzy, or a fever, or any kind of sudden death :
Yea, when these, or such like, are on a land
by way of public judgment, the godly are
not altogether exempted from them, but may
fall in them with others ; as we find Moses
dying in the wilderness, with those he brought
out of Egypt. Now, though it was for a
particular failing in the wilderness, yet it
evinces, that there is in this no encroachment
upon their privileges, nothing contrary to the
love of God towards them, and his covenant
with them.
2. The promises made to the godly, of
preservation from common judgments, have
their truth, and are made good in many of
them so preserved ; though they do not hold
absolutely and universally : For they are
ever to be understood in subordination to their
highest good : But when they are preserved,
they ought to take it as a gracious accom-
plishment, even of these promises to them,
VER. 19—21.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
219
which the wicked, many of which do likewise
escape, have no right to, but are preserved
for after-judgment.
3. It is certain, that the curse and sting
is taken out of all those evils incident to the
godly with others, in life and death, which
makes the main difference, though to the eye
of the world invisible. And it may be ob-
served, That in these common judgments of
sword or pestilence, or other epidemic dis-
eases, a great part of those that are cut off are
of the wickedest, though the Lord may send
off those arrows to some few of his own, to
call them home.
The full and clear distinction of the god-
ly and wicked, being reserved for their after
estate in eternity, it needs not seem strange,
that in many things it appears not here : One
thing above all others, most grievous to the
child of God, may take away the wonder, of
other things they suffer in common, that is,
the remainders of sin in them while they are
in the flesh : Though there is a spirit in
them above it, and contrary to it, which
makes the difference ; yet sometimes the too
much likeness, especially in the prevailings
of corruption, doth confuse the matter, not
only to others' eyes, but their own.
4. Though the great distinction and se-
vering be reserved to that great and solemn
day, that shall clear all, yet the Lord is pleas-
ed, in part, more remarkably at some times
to difference his own from the ungodly, in
the execution of temporal judgments, and to
give these as preludes of that final and full
judgment. And this of Noah was one of
the most eminent in that kind, being the
most general judgment that ever befel the
world, or that shall till the last, and so the
liveliest figure of it : This was by water, as
the second shall be by fire, and it was most
congruous that it should resemble in this, as
the chief point, the saving of righteous Noah
and his family from it ; prefiguring the eter-
nal salvation of believers, as our Apostle teach-
eth.
Wherein fete, that is, eight persons, were
saved by water.] This great point of the
fewness of those that are saved in the other
greater salvation, as in this, I shall not now
prosecute : Only,
1. If so few, then the inquiry into our-
selves, whether we be of these few, should be
more diligent, and followed more home than
it is yet with the most of us. We are wary
in our trifles, and only in this easily deceived,
yea, our own deceivers in this great point.
Is not this folly far beyond what you usually
say of some, Penny wise and pound fool ;
to be wise for a moment, and fools for eter-
nity ?
2. You that are indeed seeking the way
of life, be not discouraged by your fewness ;
it hath always been so ; you see here how few
of the whole world, and is it not better to be
of the few in the ark, than of the multitude
in the waters ? Let them fret, as ordinarily
they do, to see so few more diligent for hea-
ven, as no doubt they did of Noah ; and this
is it that galls them, that any should have
higher names, and surer hopes this way :
" What ! are none but such as you going to
heaven, think you us all damned ?" What
can we say, but there is a flood of wrath
wasting many who say so, and certainly all
that are out of the ark shall perish in that
flood.
3. This is that main truth that I would
leave with you ; look on Jesus Christ as the
ark, of whom this was a figure ; and believe
it, out of him there is nothing but certain de-
struction, a deluge of wrath, all the world
over, on those out of Christ. Oh ! it is our
life, our only safety, to be in him. But these
things are not believed. Men think they be-
lieve them, and do not. Were it believed
that we are under the sentence of eternal death
in our natural state, and that there is no
escape, but by removing out of ourselves
unto Christ, Oh ! what thronging would
there be to him ! whereas, now he invites and
calls, and how few are persuaded to come to
him ! Noah believed the Lord's word of
judgment against the world, believed his pro-
mise made to him, and prepared an ark. Is
it not a high sign of unbelief, that there
being an ark of everlasting salvation ready
prepared to our hand, we will not so much as
come to it ? 1. Will you, who are not yet
entered, be persuaded certainly that the'ark-
door stands open ; his offers are free ; do but
come and try if he will turn you away ; no,
he will not, Him that comes to me, I wilt
in no ways cast out, John vi. 37. And as
there is such acceptance, and sure preserva-
tion in him, there is as sure perishing with-
out him, trust on what you will. Be you of
a giant's stature, as many of them were, to
help you to climb up, as they would sure do
when the flood came on, to the highest moun-
tains and tallest trees, yet it shall overtake
you. Make your best of your worldly ad-
vantages, or good parts, or civil righteous-
ness, all shall prove poor shifts from the flood
of wrath, which rises above all those, and
drowns them ; only the ark of our salvation
is safe. Think how gladly they would have
been within the ark, when they found death
without it, and now it was too late ! How
would many, that now despise Christ, wish
to honour him one day ! Men, so long as
they thought to be safe on the earth, would
never betake them to the ark, but rather
would think it a prison ; and could men find
salvation any where else, they would never
come to Christ for it : This is, because they
know him not : But yet, be it necessity, let
that drive thee in ; and then being in him,
thou shalt find reason to love him for himself,
besides the salvation thou hast in him.
220
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. m.
2. You that have fled into him for refuge,
wrong him not so far as to question your
safety. What though the floods of thy for-
mer guiltiness rise high, thine ark shall still
be above them ; and the higher they rise,
the higher he shall rise, shall have the more
glory in freely justifying and saving thee.
Though thou find the remaining power of sin
still within thee, yet it shall not sink thine
ark ; there was in this ark sin, yet they were
saved from the flood. If thou dost believe,
that f-ts thee in Christ, and he will bring
thee safe through, without splitting or sink-
ing.
3. As thou art bound to account thyself
safe in him, so to admire that love that set
thee there. Noah was a holy man ; but
whence was both his holiness and preservation
while the world perished, but because he
found favour, or free grace, as the word is,
in the eyes of the Lord. And no doubt he
did much contemplate this, being secure with-
in, when the cries of the rest, drowning, were
about him. Thus, think you, seeing so few
are saved in this blessed ark, wherein I am,
in comparison of the multitude that perish
in the deluge ; whence is this ? Why
was I chosen, and so many about me left ?
why, but because it pleased him. But all
is straight here. We have neither hearts
nor time for ample thoughts of this love,
till we be beyond time ; then shall we ad-
mire and praise without ceasing, and without
wearying.
We have now considered the great and
remarkable example the Apostle makes use
of. It is time we proceed to consider, Third-
ly, The adapting or applying it to the in-
struction of Christians, for which it is indeed
so fit and suitable, which he clears in the
particular resemblance of it, with the rule of
Christianity.
VKR. 21. The like figure whereunto even bap-
tism doth also now save us (not the putting away
the filth of the flesh, but the answer of a good
conscience toward God,) by the resurrection of
Jesus Christ.
I»r which words we have, 1. The end of
baptism. 2. The proper virtue or efficacy
of it for that end. And, 3. A resemblance
in both these to Noah's preservation in the
flood.
1st, The end of baptism, to save us.
This is the great common end of all the or-
dinances of God : that one high mark they
all aim at. And the great and common mis-
take of them is, that they are not so under-
stood and used. We come and sit awhile,
and, if we can keep awake, give the word
the hearing ; but how few of us receive it as
the ingrafted word that is able to save our
touls ! James i. 21. Were it thus taken !
what sweetness would be found in it, which
most that hear and read it are strangers to !
How precious would these lines be, if we '
looked on them thus, saw them meeting and
| concentring in salvation as their end. Thus
likewise the sacraments, considered indeed as
' seals of this inheritance, annexed to the great
charter of it, seals of salvation, would be high.
| ly regarded : This would powerfully beget
a fit appetite for the Lord's Supper, when we
are invited to it, and would beget a due es.
teem of baptism ; would teach you more fre-
quent and fruitful thoughts of your own, and
more pious considerations of it when you re-
quire it for your children. A natural eye
looks upon bread, and wine, and water, and
the outward difference of their use there, that
they are set apart and differenced, as is evi-
dent by external circumstances, from their
common use ; but the main of the difference,
where their excellency lies, it sees not, as the
eye of faith above that espies salvation under
them : And oh, what a different thing are
they to it, from what they are to a formal
user of them ? We should aspire to know
the hidden rich things of God, that are wrapt
up in his ordinances. We stick in the shell
and superfices of them, and seek no further ;
that makes them unbeautiful and unsavoury
to us, and that use of them turns into an
empty custom. Be more earnest with him
that hath appointed them, and made this
their end, to save us, that he would clear up
the eye of our souls, to see them thus under
this relation, and see how they suit to this
their end, and tend to it, and seriously seek
salvation in them from his own hand, and we
shall find it.
This doth save us. So that this salvation
of Noah and his family from the deluge,
and all outward deliverances and salvations,
are but dark shadows of this. Let them not
be compared, these reprivals and prolong-
ings of this present life, to the deliverance
of the soul from death, the second death ; the
stretching of a moment to the concernment of
eternity. How would any of you welcome
a full and sure protection from common dan-
gers, if such were to be had ! That you
should be ascertained of safety from sword
or pestilence ; that whatever others suffered
about you, you and your family should be
free ! (and they that have escaped a near
danger of this kind are too apt to rest there, as
if no more were to be feared : whereas this
common favour may be shewed to those that
are far off from God) ; and what though you
be not only thus far safe, but, I say, if you
were secured for the future, which none of
you absolutely are ; yet, when you are put
out of danger of sword and plague, still
death remains, and sin and wrath .may be ,
remaining with it ; and shall it not be all
one to die under these in a time of public
peace and welfare, as if it were now ? Yea,
it may be something more unhappy, by the
increase of the heap of sin and wrath ;
guiltiness augmented by life prolonged ; and
will be more grievous to be pulled away
VER. 21.1
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
221
from the world, in the midst of peaceable
enjoyment, and to have everlasting darkness
to succeed to that short sunshine of thy day
of ease. Alas! the sad succession! Hap-
piness of a short date, and misery for ever.
What availed it wicked Ham, to outlive the
flood, to inherit a curse after it ; to be kept
undrowned in the waters, to see himself
and his posterity blasted with his father's
curse ? Think seriously : what will be the
end of all thy temporary safety and preserva-
tion, if thou share not in this salvation, and
find not thyself sealed and marked for it ;
to flatter thyself with a dream of happiness,
and walk in the light of a few sparks, Isa.
1. 1 1, that will soon die out, and then lie
down in sorrow ? A sad bed that the most
have to go to, after they have wearied them-
selves all the day, all their life, in a chace
of vanity !
2dly, The next thing is, the power and
virtue of this means for its end. That bap-
tism hath a power, is clear, in that it is so
expressly said, t* doth save us : Which
kind of power is as clear in the way of it
here expressed ; not by a natural force of the
element, though adapted and sacramentally
used ; it can only wash away the filth of the
body ; its physical efficacy or power reaches
no further : But it is in the hand of the
Spirit of God, as other sacraments, and as
the word itself is, to purify the conscience,
and convey grace and salvation to the soul,
by the reference it hath to, and union with,
that which it represents. It saves by the
answer of a good conscience unto God,
and it affords that, by the resurrection of
Jesus from the dead.
Thus, then, we have a true account of the
power of this, and so of other sacraments,
and a discovery of the error of the two ex-
tremes : (1.) Of those that ascribe too much
to them, as if they wrought by a natural in-
herent virtue, and carried grace in them in-
separably. (2.) Of those that ascribe too
little to them, making them only signs and
badges of our profession. Signs they are,
but more than signs, merely representing ;
they are means exhibiting, and seals con-
firming, grace to the faithful. But the
working of faith, and the conveying of
Christ into the soul to be received by faith,
is not a thing put into them to do of them-
selves, but still in the Supreme Hand that
appointed them : And he indeed both causes
the souls of his own to receive these his
seals with faith, and makes them effectual
to confirm that faith which receives them so.
•They are then, in a word, neither empty
signs to them that believe, nor effectual
causes of grace to them that believe not.
The mistake on both sides arises from the
want of duly considering the relative nature j
of these seals, and that kind of union that is j
betwixt them, and the grace they represent ; '
which is real, though not natural or physical,
as they speak. So that though they do not
save all that partake of them, yet they do
really and effectually save believers, (for whose
salvation they are means), as the other ex-
ternal ordinances of God do. Though they
have not that power which is peculiar to the
Author of them, yet a power they have, such
as befits their nature ; and by reason of
which they are truly said to sanctify and jus-
tify, and so to save, as the Apostle here avers
of baptism.
Now, that which is intended for our help,
our carnal minds are ready to turn into a
hinderance and disadvantage. The Lord
representing invisible things to the eye, and
confirming his promises even by visible seals,
we are apt, by the grossness of our unspiri-
tual hearts, instead of stepping up by that
which is earthly to the divine spiritual things
represented, to stay on the outward element,
and go no further : Therefore the apostle,
to lead us into the inside of this seal of bap-
tism, is very clear in designing the effect
and fruit of it : Not (says he) putting
away the filth of the flesh ; and water, if
you look no further, can do no more. There
is an invisible impurity upon our nature,
chiefly on our invisible part, our soul : This
washing means the taking away of that ;
and where it reaches its true effect, it doth
so purify the conscience, and makes it good,
truly so in the sight of God, who is the
Judge of it. ,.
Consider, 1. It is a pitiful thing to see
the ignorance of the most professing Chris-
tianity, and partaking of the outward seals
of it, yet not knowing what they mean ;
not apprehending the spiritual dignity and
virtue of them. They are blind in the mys-
teries of the kingdom, and not so much as
sensible of that blindness. And being ig-
norant of the nature of these holy things,
they cannot have a due esteem of them,
which arises out of the view of their inward
worth and efficacy. A confused fancy they
have of some good in them ; and this rising
to the other extreme, to a superstitious con,
fidence in the simple performance and par.
ticipation of them, as if that carried some
inseparable virtue with it, which none could
miss of, that are sprinkled with the waters
of baptism, and share in the elements of
bread and wine in the Lord's Supper.
And what is the utmost plea of the most
for their title to heaven, that in these rela.
live and external tilings they are Christians,
are baptized, hear the word, and are admit-,
ted to the Lord's table ; not considering how
many have gone through all these, and daily
are going on in the ways of death ; never
coming near Jesus Christ, ivho is the way,
and the truth, and the life : whom the word
and the seals of it, hold fortli to believers,
assuring them tliat they are washed in his-
222
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. in.
blood, and quickened with his life, and made
like him, and co-heirs of glory with him.
2. Even they that have some clearer no-
tion of the nature and fruit of the seals of
grace, yet are in a practical error, that they
look not with due diligence into themselves ;
inquiring after the efficiency of them in their
hearts ; do not study the life of Christ ; to
know more what it is, and then to search
into themselves for the truth, and the growth
of that life within them. Is it not an un-
becoming thing for a Christian (when he is
about to appear before the Lord at his table,
and so looks something more narrowly with-
in) to find as little faith, as little divine af-
fection, a heart as unmortified to the world,
as cold towards Christ, as before his last ad-
dress to the same table, after the intervening,
possibly, of many months : in which time,
had he been careful often to reflect inwards
on his heart, and to look back upon that new
sealing in his last participation, he might
probably have been more improved ? And,
truly, as there is much guiltiness cleaves to us
in this, so generally, much more in reference
to this other sacrament that is here the apos-
tle's subject, baptism, which being but once
administered, and that in infancy, is very
seldom, and slightly, considered by many,
even real Christians. And so we are at a
loss in that profit and comfort ; that increase
of both holiness and faith, that the frequent
recollecting of it, after a spiritual manner,
would no doubt advance us to. And not
only do we neglect to put ourselves upon the
thoughts of it in private, but, in the frequent
opportunities of such thoughts in public, we
let it pass unregarded, are idle, inconsiderate,
and so truly guilty beholders. And the more
frequently we have these opportunities, the
less are we touched with them : they become
common, and work not ; and the slighting
of them grows as common with us as the
thing. Yea, when the engagement is more
special and personal ; when parents are to
present their infants to this ordinance, and
then might, and certainly ought to have a
more particular and fixed eye upon it, and
themselves, as being sealed with it, to ask
within after the fruit and power of it, and to
stir up themselves anew to the actings of
faith, and ambition after newness of life, and
with earnest prayer for their children, to be
suitors for themselves, for further evidence
of their interest in Christ : Yet, possibly,
many are not much in these things at such
times, but are more busied to prepare their
house for entertaining their friends, than to
prepare their hearts for offering up their in-
fant unto God to be sealed ; and withal, to
make a new offer of their own hearts to him,
to have renewed on them the inward seal of
the covenant of grace, the outward seal where-
of they did receive, as it is now to be con.
ferred upon their infant.
Did we often look upon tne face of oui
souls, and observe the many spots with which
we have defiled them after our washing, it
might work us to shame and grief, and would
drive us, by renewed application, to wash
often in that blood which that water figures,
which alone can fetch out the stain of sin ;
and then it would set us upon renewed pur-
poses of purity, to walk more carefully, to
avoid the pollutions of the world we walk in,
and to purge out the pollutions of the hearts
that we carry about with us, that defile -us
more than all the world besides. It would
work an holy disdain of sin, often to contem-
plate ourselves as washed in so precious a
laver : " Shall I, would »Jie Christian say,
considering that I am now cleansed in the
precious blood of my Lord Jesus, run again
into that puddle out of which he so gracious-
ly took me, and made me clean ? Let swine
wallow in it ; he hath made me of his sheep-
fold ; he hath made me of that excellent order
for which all are consecrated by that wash-
ing that partake of it : He hath washed us
in his blood, and made us kings and priests
unto God the Father. Am I of these ?
And shall I debase myself to the vile plea-
sures of sin ? No, I will think myself too
good to serve any sinful lusts ; seeing he
hath looked on me, and taken me up, and
washed and dignified me : I am wholly his,
all my study and business shall be to honour
and magnify him."
The answer of a good conscience, &c. ]
The taking away of spiritual filthiness, a»
the true and saving effect of baptism, the
apostle here expresses by that which is the
further result and effect of it, The answer
of a good conscience unto God. For it is
the washing off that filthiness which makes
both the conscience good, and, in making it
such, fits it to make answer unto God. A
good conscience, in its full sense, is a pure
conscience, and a peaceable conscience ; and
it cannot, indeed, be peaceably good, unless
it be purely good. And although, on the
other side, it may want the present enjoy-
ment of peace, being purified, yet certainly
in a purified conscience there is a title and
right to peace ; it is radically there, even
when it appears not. And, in due time, it
shall appear, shall spring forth, bud, and
flourish.
The purified and good condition of the
whole soul may well, as here it doth, go
under the name of the good conscience, it
being so prime a faculty of it, and as the
glass of the whole soul, wherein the estate of
it is represented. Therefore, Heb. ix. the.
efficacy of the blood of Christ is expressed
thus, that it purgeth our consciences from
dead works ; which expression is the same
thing in effect with that here, the answer of
a good conscience unto God.
The answer, linoa-rHpa.] The asking or
VER. 21.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
223
questioning of conscience, which comprises
likewise its answer, for it intends the whole
correspondence of the conscience with God,
and with itself, as towards God, or in the
sight of God ; and indeed God's questioning
it, is by itself; it is his deputy in the soul ;
he makes it pose itself for him, and before
him, concerning its own condition ; and so
the answer it gives itself in that posture, he
as it were sitting and hearing it in his pre-
sence, is an answer made unto him. This
questioning and answering, (if such a thing
were at this time, as it was certainly soon
after,) yet means not the questions and an-
swers used in the baptism of persons, who,
being of years, professed their faith in an-
swering the questions moved ; it possibly
alludes unto that, but it further, by way of
resemblance, expresses the inward question-
ing and answering which is transacted with-
in, betwixt the soul and itself, and the soul and
God ; and so is allusively called l-n^urnff ,
a questioning and answering, but distinc-
tively specified, n; Sn* ; so that, whereas the
other was towards men, this is unto God.
1. A good conscience is a waking, speak-
ing conscience ; and as the conscience that
questions itself most is of all sorts the best,
so that which is dumb, or asleep, and is not
active and frequent in self-inquiries, is not a
good conscience. The word is judicial,
i**£u<Tn/j,a., interrogation, used in law for the
trial and executing of processes ; and this
is the great business of conscience, to sit,
and examine, and judge within ; to hold
courts in the soul ; and it is of continual
necessity that it be so. There can be no
vacation of this judicature without great
damage to the estate of the soul ; yea, not
a day ought to pass without a session of con-
science within ; for daily disorders arise in
the soul, which, if they pass on, will grow
and gather more, and so breed more difficulty
in their trial and redress. Yet men do easily
turn from this work as hard and unpleasant ;
and make many a long vacancy in the year,
and protract it from one day to another. In
the morning they must go about their busi-
ness, and at night they are weary and sleepy ;
and all the day long one affair steps in after
another ; and if business fail, some trifling
company or other ; and so their days pass
on ; the soul is overgrown with impurities
and disorders.
You know what confusions, and disorders,
and evils, will abound amongst a rude people,
where there is no kind of court nor judica-
ture held. Thus is it with that unruly rab-
ble, the lusts and passions of our souls, when
there is no discipline nor judgment within; or
where there is but a neglect and intermission
of it for a short , ime. And the most part of
souls are in the posture of ruin ; their vile
affections, as a headstrong tumultuous multi-
tude, that will not suffer a deputed judge to
sit amongst them, cry down their consciences,
and make a continual noise, that the voice
of it may not be heard ; and so force it to
desist and leave them to their own ways.
But you that take this course, know you
are providing the severest judgment for your,
selves by disturbing of judgment : as when
a people rise against an inferior judge, the
prince or supreme magistrate that sent him,
hearing of it, doth not fail to vindicate his
honour and justice in their exemplary pu-
nishment.
Will you not answer unto conscience, but
when it begins to speak, turn to business or
company, that you may not hear it ? Know,
that it and you must answer unto God ; and
when he shall make inquiry, it must report,
and report as the truth is, knowing that there
is no hiding the matter from him. " Lord,
there are to my knowledge a world of enormi-
ties within the circuit I had to judge, and I
would have judged them, but was forciblv
resisted and interrupted ; and was not strong
enough to oppose the tumultuous power that
rose against me. Now the matter comes in-
to thine own hand to judge it thyself." What
shall the soul say in that day, when con-
science shall make such an answer unto God,
and it shall come under the severity of his
justice for all ? Whereas, if it had given
way to the conscience to find out, and judge
and rectify matters, so that it could have an-
swered concerning its procedure that way,
God would have accepted this ^as the answer
of a good conscience, and what conscience
had done, he would not do over again. It
hath judged, then I acquit ; for if we would
judge ourselves, (says the Apostle,) we
should not be judged, 1 Cor. xi. 31.
The questioning or inquiry of conscience,
and so its report or answer unto God, extends
to all the affairs of the soul, all the affections
and motions of it, and all the actions and
carriage of the whole man. The open wick-
edness of the most testifies against them,
that though sprinkled with water in baptism,
yet they are strangers to the power and gra-
cious efficacy of it ; not baptized with the
Holy Ghost and with fire ; still their dross
and filth remaining in them, and nothing
else appearing in their ways ; so that their
consciences cannot so much as make a good
answer for them unto men, much less un-
to God. What shall it answer for them,
being judged, but that they are swearers,
and cursers, and drunkards, or unclean ; or
that they are slanderers, delighting to pass
their hours in descanting on the actions and
ways of others, and looking through the mis-
coloured glass of their own malice and pride ;
that they are neglecters of God and holy
things ; lovers of themselves, and their own
pleasures, more than lovers of God ? 2 Tim.
iii. 2, 4. And, have such as these impu-
dence enougli to call themselves Christians,
A COMMENTARY UPON
224
and to pretend themselves to be such as are
washed in the blood of Christ ? Yes, they
do this. But be ashamed and confounded
in yourselves, you that remain in this con-
dition. Yea, although thou art blameless
in men's eyes, and possibly in thy own eyes
too, yet thou mayest be filthy still in the
sight of God. There is such a generation,
•\ multitude of them, that is pure in their
own eyes, and yet are not washed from
their filthiness, Prov. xxx. 12. There are
many moral evil persons that are most satis-
fied with their own estate, or such as have
further a form of godliness, but their lusts
are not mortified by the power of it. Secret
pride, and earthliness of mind, and vain
glory, and carnal wisdom, are still entertain-
ed with pleasure within ; these are foul pol-
lutions, filthy, and hateful in the sight of
God : So that where it is thus, that such
guests are in peaceable possession of the
heart, there the blood and Spirit of Christ
are not yet come ; neither can there be this
answer of a good conscience unto God.
This answer of a good conscience unto
God, as likewise its questioning, to enable
itself for that answer, is touching two great
points, that are of chief concern to the soul,
its justification and sanctification ; for bap-
tism is the seal of both, and purges the con-
science in both respects. That water is the
figure both of the blood and water, the jus-
tifying blood of Christ, and the pure water
of the sanctifying Spirit of Christ ; he takes
away the condemning guiltiness of sin by
the one, and the polluting filthiness by the
other.
Now, the conscience of a real believer in-
quiring within, upon right discovery, will
make this answer unto God : " Lord, I
have found that there is no standing before
thee, for the soul in itself is overwhelmed
with a world of guiltiness ; but I find a
blood sprinkled upon it, that hath, I am
sure, virtue enough to purge it all away, and
to present it pure unto thee. And I know
that wheresoever thou findest that blood
sprinkled, thine anger is quenched and ap-
peased immediately upon the sight of it.
Thine hand cannot smite where that blood
is before thine eye." And this the Lord
does agree to, and authorises the conscience,
upon this account, to return back an answer
of safety and peace to the soul.
So for the other, " Lord, I find a living
work of holiness on this soul ; though there
is yet corruption there, yet it is as a continual
grief and vexation, it is an implacable hatred ;
there is no peace betwixt them, but con-
tinual enmity and hostility ; and if I can-
not say much of the high degrees of grace,
and faith in Christ, and love to him, and
heavenliness of mind ; yet I may say, there
Is a beginning of these ; at least this I most
confidently affirm, that there are real and
[CHAP, in.
earnest desires of the soul after these things.
It would know and conform to thy will, and
be delivered from itself and its own will ;
and though it were to the highest displeasure
of all the world, it would gladly walk in all
well-pleasing unto thee." Now, he that
sees the truth of these things, knowing it to
be thus, owns it as his own work, and en-
gages himself to advance it, and bring it to
perfection.
This is a taste of that intercourse the
purified conscience hath with God, as' the
saving fruit of baptism.
And all this it doth, not of itself, but by
virtue of the resurrection of Jesus Christ,
which refers both to the remote effect, sal-
vation, and the nearer effect, as a means
and pledge of that, the purging of the con-
science.
By this, his death, and the effusion of his
blood in his sufferings, are not excluded,
but are included in it : His resurrection
being the evidence of all that work of ex-
piation, both completed and accepted ; full
payment being made by our Surety ; and so
he set free, his freedom is the cause and the
assurance of ours. Therefore the Apostle
S(. Paul expresses it so, That he died for
our sins, and rose for righteousness : anA
our Apostle shows us the worth of our living
hope in this same resurrection, chap. i. ver
3, Blessed be the God and Father of ovr
Lord Jesus Christ, which, according to his
abundant mercy, hath begotten us again
unto a lively hope, by the resurrection of
Jesus Christ from the dead.
Now, that baptism doth apply and seal to
the believer his interest in the death and re-
surrection of Christ, the Apostle St. Paul
teaches to the full, Horn. vi. 4, We are
buried with him, says he, by baptism into
his death, that like as Christ was raised
up from the dead by the glory of the Father,
even so we should also walk in newness of
life. Where the dipping into the waters is
referred to, as representing our dying with
Christ ; and the return thence, as expres-
sive of our rising with him.
3dly, The last thing is, the resemblance
of baptism in these things, with the saving
of Noah in the flood. And it holds in that
we spoke last of : For he seemed to have
rather entered into a grave, as dead, than
into a safeguard of life, in going into the
ark ; yet, being buried there, he rose again,
as it were, in his coming forth to begin a
new world. The waters of the flood drown-
ed the ungodly, and washed them away,
and their sin together, as one inseparable heap
of filthiness ; and upon the same waters the
ark floating, preserved Noah. Thus the
waters of baptism are intended as a deluge
to drown sin, and to save the believer, who
by faith is separated both from the world
and from his sin : so it sinks, and he is saved
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
And there is, further, another thing speci-
fied by the Apostle, wherein, though it be a
little hard, yet he chiefly intends the parallel ;
ihefeivness of these that are saved by both.
For though many are sprinkled with the ele-
mental water of baptism, yet few, so as to
attain by it the ansicer of a good conscience
towards God, and to live by participation of
the resurrection and life of Christ.
Thou that seest the world perishing in a
deluge of wrath, and art now most thought-
ful for this, how thou shalt escape it ; fly in
to Christ as thy safety, and rest secure there.
Thou shalt find life in his death, and that
life further ascertained to thee in his rising
again. 1. There is so full and clear a title
to life in these two, that thou canst challenge
all adversaries upon this very ground, as un-
conquerable, whilst thou standest on it, and
mayest speak thy challenge in the Apostle's
style, It is God thai juslifteth, who shall
condemn ? But how know you that He
justifies ? It is Christ that died, yea, ra-
ther, that is risen, who sitteth at the right
hand of God, who also maketh intercession
for us, Rom. viii. 33, 34. It alludes to
that place, Isa. 1. 8, where Christ speaks of
himself, but in the name of all that adhere
to him : lie is near that justifies me, who
is he that will contend with me ? So that
what Christ speaks there, the Apostle, with
good reason, imparts to each believer as in
him. If no more is to be laid to Christ's
charge, he being now acquitted, as is clear
by his rising again, then neither to thine,
who art clothed with him, and one with him.
This is the grand answer of a good con-
science ; and, in point of justifying them be-
fore God, there can be no answer but this,
What have any to say to thee ? thy debt is
paid by him that undertook it, and he it
free. Answer all accusations with this, Christ
is risen.
And then, for the mortifying of sin, and
strengthening of thy graces, look daily on
that death and resurrection : Study them,
set thine eye upon them, till thy heart take
on the impression of them by much spiritua'
and affectionate looking on them ; beholding
the- glory of thy Lord Christ, then be trans-
formed into it, 2 Cor. iii. 18. It is not
only a moral pattern or copy, but an effec-
tual cause of thy sanctification, having rea
influence into thy soul ; dead with him, anc
again alive with him. Oh ! happiness anc
dignity unspeakable, to have this life known
and cleared to your souls ! If it were, how
would it make you live above the world,
and all the vain hopes and fears of this
t is universally true of every carnal mind,
so of all the motions and thoughts of it, even
where it seems to agree with God. yet it is
itill contrary ; if it acknowledge and conform
:o his ordinance, yet, even in so doing, it is
n direct opposite terms to him, particularly
n this, that which he esteems most in
:hem, the carnal mind makes least account
of. He chiefly eyes and values the inside ;
he natural man dwells and rests in the shell
and superfices of them. God, according to
lis spiritual nature, looks most on the more
spiritual part of his worship and worshippers.
The carnal mind is in this, just like itself
altogether, for the sensible external part,
and unable to look beyond it. Therefore
the Apostle here, having taken occasion to
speak of baptism in terms that contain a paral-
lel and resemblance between it and the flood,
is express in correcting this mistake. It is
not, says he, in putting away the filth of the
flesh, but the answer of a good conscience.
Were it possible to persuade you, I would
recommend one thing to you : learn to look
on the ordinances of God suitably to their
natures, spiritually, and inquire after the
spiritual effect and working of them upon
your consciences. We would willingly have
all religion reduced to externals. This is
our natural choice, and we would pay all in
this coin, as cheaper and easier by far, and
would compound for the spiritual part, rathet
to add and give more external performance
and ceremony. Henoe the natural compla-
cency of Popery, which is all for this ser-
vice of the flesh and body-services ; and
to those prescribed of God, all deal so liberally
with him in that kind, as to add more, and
frame new devices and rites ; what you will
in this kind, sprinklings, and washings, and
anointings, and incense : But whither tends
all this ? Is it not a gross mistake of God
to think him thus pleased ; or, is it not
a direct affront, knowing that he is not
pleased with these, but desires another thing,
to thrust that upon him that he cares not for,
and refuse him what he calls for ? that
single humble heart-worship and walking
with him, that purity of spirit and con-
science that he only prizes, and no outward
service, but for these : as they tend to this
end, and do attain it ? Give me, says he,
nothing, if you give not this. Oh ! saith
the carnal mind, any thing but this thou
shalt have. As many washings and offer-
ings as thou wilt, thousands of rams, and
ten thousand rivers of oil ; yea, rather
than fail, let the fruit of my body go for the
sin of my soul, Micah vi. 6. Thus we ;
wretched life, and the fears of death itself ! j will the outward use of word and sacraments
Yea, it would make that visage of death, ! do it ? Then all shall be well ; baptized we
which to the world is most aflrigbtful, most are ; and shall I hear much and communi-
lovely to thee. f cate often, if I can reach it ? Shall I be
It is the Apostle's maxim, that the car- exact in point of family worship ; shall I
nal mind is enmity against God ; and as pray in secret ? all this I do, or at least I
P
226
now promise
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. in.
Ay, but when all that is hearts : for baptism carries in it a renoun-
done, there is yet one thing may be wanting,
and if it be so, all that amounts to nothing.
Is thy conscience purged and made good by
all 'Jiese ; or art thou seeking and aiming
at this, by the use of all means ? then cer-
tainly thou shall find life in them. But,
does thy heart still remain uncleansed from
the old ways, not purified from the pollutions
of the world .« Do thy beloved sins still
lodge with thee, and keep possession of thy
heart ? then art thou still a stranger to
Christ, and an enemy to God. The word
and seals of life are dead to thee, and thou
art still dead in the use of them all. Know
you not, that many have made shipwreck
upon the very rock of salvation ? That
many which were baptized as well as you,
and as constant attendants on all the wor-
ship and ordinances of God is you, yet re-
mained without Christ, and died in their
sins, and are now past recovery ? Oh !
that you would be warned ! There are still
multitudes runningheadlong that same course
tending to destruction, through the midst
of all the means of salvation ; the saddest
way of all to it, through word and sacra-
ments, and all heavenly ordinances, to be
walking hell-wards, Christians and yet no
Christians ; baptized and yet unbaptized ;
as the prophet takes in the profane multi-
tude of God's own people with the nations,
Jer. ix. 26, Egypt, and Judah, and Edom ;
all these nations are uncircumcised : and
the worst came last, and all the house of Is-
rael are uncircumcised in the heart. Thus,
are the most of us unbaptized in the heart ;
and as this is the way of personal destruction,
so it is that, as the prophet there declares,
that brings upon the Church so many public
judgments : And, as the Apostle tells the
Corinthians, 1 Cor. xi. 30, that for the
abuse of the Lord's table, many were sick,
and many slept, certainly our abuse of the
holy things of God, and want of their proper
spiritual fruits, are amongst the prime sins
of this land, for which so many slain have
fallen in the fields by the sword, and in the
streets by pestilence ; and more are likely
yet to fall, if we thus continue to provoke the
Lord to his face. For, it is the most avowed
direct affront to profane his holy things ;
and thus we do while we answer not their
proper end, and are not inwardly sanctified
by them. We have no other word, nor
Other sacraments, to recommend to you, than
these that you have used so long to no pur-
pose ; only we would call you from the dead
forms to seek the living power of them, that
you perish not.
You think the renouncing of baptism „
horrible word, and that we would speak only
so of witches ; yet it is a common guiltiness
that cleaves to all, who renounce not th
filthy lusts, and the self-will of their owi
cing of these ; and so the cleaving unto
these is a renouncing of it. Oh ! we all
were sealed for God in baptism ; but who
lives so ? How few have the impression of
it on their conscience, and the expression of
it in the walk and fruit of their life ! We
do not, as clean washed persons, abhor and
fly all pollutions, all fellowship with the
unfruitful works of darkness, Eph. v. 11.
We have been a long time hearers of the
Gospel, whereof baptism is the seal, and
most of us often at the Lord's table. What
hath all this done upon us ? ask within :
your hearts changed ? Is there a new
creation there ? Where is that spiritual-
mindedness ? Are your hearts dead to the
world and sin, and alive to God ; your con-
sciences purged from dead works ?
What mean you ? Is 'not this the enc
of all the ordinances, to make all clean, anc-
le renew and make good the conscience ? to
bring the soul and your Lord into a happy
amity, and -a good correspondence, that it
may not only be in speaking terms, but often
speak and converse with him ? may have
liberty both to demand and answer, as the
original word implies ? That it may speak
the language of faith and humble obedience
unto God, and he may speak the language
of peace to it ; and both, the language of
of the Lord each to other ?
That conscience alone is good, that is
much busied in this work ; in demanding
and answering ; that speaks much with him-
self, and with God : This is both the sign
that it is good, and the means to make it bet-
ter. That soul will doubtless be very wary
in its walk, that makes daily account of
itself, and renders up that account unto God.
It will not live by guess, but naturally ex-
amine each step beforehand, because it is re-
solved to examine all after ; will consider well
what it should do, because it means to ask
over again what it hath done ; and not only
to answer itself, but to make a faithful re-
port of all unto God ; to lay all before him,
continually upon trial made ; to tell him
what is in any measure well done as his own
work, and bless him for that, and tell him
too, all the slips and miscarriages of the
day, as our own ; complaining of ourselves
in his presence, and still entreating free par-
don, and more wisdom to walk, more holily
and exactly ; and gaining, even, by our
failings, more humility and more watch-
fulness.
If you would have your consciences answer
well, they must inquire and question much
beforehand, Whether is this, I purpose and
go about, agreeable to my Lord's will ? Will
it please him ? Ask that more, and regard
that more, than this that the most follow ;
will it please or profit myself ? fits that my
own humour ? And examine not only the
VER. 21.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
227
bulk and substance of thy ways and actions,
but the manner of them, . how thy heart is
set : So think it not enough to go to church,
or to pray, but take heed how ye hear ; con-
sider how pure He is, and how piercing His
eye, whom thou servest.
Then, again, reflect afterwards ; think it
not enough I was praying, or hearing, or
reading, it was a good work, what need I
question it further ? No, but be still reflect-
ing, and asking how it was done ; how I
have heard, how I have prayed ? Was my
heart humbled, by the discoveries of sin,
from the word ? Was it refreshed with the
promises of grace ? Did it lie level under the
word, to receive the stamp of it ? Was it
in prayer set and kept in a holy bent towards
God ? Did it breathe forth real and earnest
desires into his ear, or was it remiss, and
roving, and dead in the service ? So, in my
society with others, in such and such com-
pany, what was spent of my time, and how
did I employ it ? Did I seek to honour my
Lord, and to edify my brethren, by my car-
riage and speeches ; or did the time run out
in trifling vain discourse ? when alone, what
is the carriage and walk of my heart ? where
it hath most liberty to move in its own pace,
is it delighted in converse with God ? Are
the thoughts of heavenly things frequent and
sweet to it ; or does it run after the earth and
the delights of it, spinning out itself in im-
pertinent vain contrivances ?
The neglect of such inquiries is that which
entertains and increases the impurity of the
soul, so that men are afraid to look into them-
selves, and to look up to God. But oh !
what a foolish course is this, to shift off that
which cannot be avoided ! In the end an-
swer must be made to that all-seeing Judge
with whom we have to do, and to whom we
owe our accounts.
And, truly, it should be seriously consi-
dered, what makes this good conscience, that
makes an acceptable answer unto God. That
appears by the opposition, not the putting
away the filth of the flesh ; then it is the
putting away of soul-filthiness ; so then it
is the renewing and purifying of the con-
science that makes it good, pure and peace -
able* In the purifying it may be troubled
which is but the stirring in cleansing of it,
which makes more quiet in the end, as phy-
sic, or the lancing of a sore ; and after it is
in some measure cleansed, it may have fits o:
trouble, which yet still add further purity anc
further peace : So there is no hazard in tha
work ; but all the misery is, a dead security
of the conscience remaining filthy, and ye
unstirred ; or, after some stirring or pricking
a. wound not thoroughly cured, skin
lied over, which will but breed more vexa
tion in the end ; it will fester and grow
more difficult to be cured ; and if it be cur
ed, it must be by deeper cutting and more
>ain, than if at first it had endured a thorough
search.
O, my brethren ! take heed of sleeping
unto death in carnal ease. Resolve to take
no rest, till you be in the element and place
of soul rest, where solid rest indeed is. Rest
not till you be with Christ ; though all the
world should offer their best, turn them by
with disdain : if they will not be turned by,
:hrow them down, and go over them, and
:rample upon them. " You have no rest to
give me ; nor will I take any at your hands,
nor from any creature. There is no rest for
me till I be under his shadow, who endured
so much trouble to purchase my rest ; and
whom having found, I may sit down quiet
and satisfied ; and when the men of the world
make boast of the highest contents, I will
outvie them all with this one word, My be-
loved is mine, and I am his, Cant. ii. 16.
The answer of a good conscience toward
God.~\ The conscience of man is never right
at peace in itself, till it be rightly persuaded
of peace with God ; which, while it remains
filthy, it cannot be ; for he is holy, and i?»i-
quity cannot dwell with him : What com-
munion betwixt light and darkness ? 2 Cor.
vi. 14. So then the conscience must be clean,
sed ere it can look upon God with assurance
and peace. This cleansing is sacramentally
performed by baptism, effectually by the
Spirit of Christ and the blood of Christ ; and
he lives to impart both : Therefore here is
mentioned his resurrection from the dead, a»
that by virtue whereof we are assured of this
purging and peace. Then can it, in some
measure, with confidence answer, " Lord,
though polluted by former sins, and by sin
still dwelling in me, yet thou seest that my
desires are to be daily more like my Saviour ;
I would have more love and zeal for thee,
more hatred of sin, that can answer with St.
Peter, when he was posed, Lovcst thou me ?
Lord, I appeal to thine own eye, who seest
my heart ; Lord, thou knowest that I love
thee, John xxi. 15, at least I desire to love
thee, and to desire thee, and that is love.
Willingly would I do thee more suitable ser-
vice, and honour thy name more ; and I do
sincerely desire more grace for this, that thou
mayest have more glory ; and I entreat the
light of thy countenance far this end, that,
by seeing it, my heart may be more weaned
from the world, and knit unto thyself."
Thus it answers touching its inward frame,
and the work of holiness by the Spirit of
holiness dwelling in it. But to answer jus-
tice, touching the point of guilt, it flies to the
blood of sprinkling, fetches all its answers
thence, turns over the matter upon it, and
that blood answers for it ; for it doth speak,
and speaks better things than the blood of
Abel, Heb. xi. 24 ; speaks full payment of
all that can be exacted from the sinner ; and
that is a sufficient answer.
228
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP, in
The conscience is then, in this point, made
speechless at once ; driven to a nonplus in
itself; hath from itself no answer to make ;
but then it turns about to Christ, and hnds
what to say : " Lord, there is indeed in me
nothing but guiltiness ; I have deserved
death, but I have fled into the city of refuge,
which thou hast appointed ; there I resolve
to abide, to live and die there. If justice
pursue me, it shall find me there : I take
sanctuary in Jesus. My arrest laid upon
me will alight upon him, and he hath where-
withal to answer it. He can straightway de-
clare he hath paid all, and can make it good ;
hath the acquittance to shew ; yea, his own
liberty is a real sign of it. He was in pri-
son, and is let free, which declares that all
is satisfied." Therefore the answer here
rises out of the resurrection of Jesus Christ.
And in this very thing lies our peace and
way, and all our happiness : Oh ! it is
worth your time and pains to try your inter-
est in this ; it is the only thing worthy your
highest diligence. But the most are out of
their wits, running like a number of distract-
ed persons, and still in a deal of business,
but to what end they know not. You are
unwilling to be deceived in those things that
at their best and surest do but deceive you
when all is done ; but are content to be de-
ceived in that which is your great concern-
ment. You are your own deceivers in it ;
gladly gulled with shadows of faith and re-
pentance, false touches of sorrow, and false
flashes of joy, and are not careful to have
your souls really unbottomed from themselves,
and built upon Christ ; to have him your
treasure, your righteousness, your all, and to
have him your answer unto God your Father.
But if you will yet be advised, let go all, to
lay hold on him ; lay your souls on him, and
leave him not; he is a tried foundation stone,
and he that trusts on him shall not be con-
founded, Isa. xxviii. 1G ; 1 Pet. ii. 6.
VER. 22. Who is gone into heaven, and is on the
right hand of God ; angels, and authorities, and
powers, being made subject unto him.
Tms is added on purpose to shew us fur-
ther what lie is, how high and glorious a Sa-
viour we have.
We have here four points or steps of the
exaltation of Christ : 1. Resurrection from
the dead. 2. Ascension into heaven. 3.
Sitting at the right hand of God. 4. In that
posture, his royal authority over the angels.
The particulars are clear in themselves. Of
the sitting at the right hand of God, you are
not ignorant that it is a borrowed expression,
drawn from earth to heaven, to bring down
some notion of heaven to us ; to signify to
us in our language, suitably to our customs,
the supreme dignity of Jesus Christ, God
and man, the Mediator of the new covenant,
his matchless nearness unto his Father and
the sovereignty given him over heaven and
earth. And that of the subjection of angels,
but a more particular specifying of that
his dignity and power, as enthroned at the
Father's right hand, they being the most ele-
vated and glorious creatures ; so that his
authority over all the world is implied in that
subjection of the highest and noblest part of
it : His victory and triumph over the angels
of darkness, is an evidence of his invincible
power and greatness, and matter of comfort
to his saints '; but this which we read of
here is his supremacy over the glorious elect
angels.
That there is amongst them priority, we
find ; that there is a comely order in their
differences, cannot be doubted : But to mar-
shal their degrees and stations above, is a
point, not only of vain fruitless curiosity, but
of presumptuous intrusion, whether these are
names of their different particular dignities,
or only different names of their general ex-
cellency and power, as I think it cannot be
certainly well determined, so it imports us
not to determine ; only this we know, and
are particularly taught from this place, that
whatsoever is their common dignity, both in
names and differences, they are all subject to
our glorious Head, Christ.
What confirmation they have in their
estate by him, (though piously asserted by
divines), is not so infallibly clear from the
alleged scriptures, which may bear another
sense. But this is certain, that he is their j
King, and they acknowledge him to be so,
and do incessantly admire and adore him.
They rejoice in his glory, and in the glory
and happiness of mankind through him ;
they yield him most cheerful obedience, and'
serve him readily in the good of his Church, ;
and each particular believer, as he deputes
and employs them.
Which is the thing here intended, having
in it these two, his dignity above them, and
his authority over them. 1. His supe«
rior dignity ; that even that nature which
carried up and raised above them ; the very
earth, the flesh of man exalted in his person;
above all those heavenly spirits, who are ofj
so excellent and pure a being in their na-l
ture, and from the beginning of the worldl
have been clothed with so transcendent glory. ,<
The text assures us, that a parcel of clay is
made so bright, and set so high, as to out»j
shine these bright flaming spirits, these starffl
of the morning, that flesh being united to
the Fountain of Light, the blessed Deity in-
die person of the Son.
In coming to fetch and put on this gar«
ment, he made himself lower than the an-
gels ; but carrying it with him at his return
to his eternal throne, and sitting down with
it there, it is high above them, as the
Apostle teaches excellently and amply, Heb.
VER. 22.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
229
i. 2, To which of them said he, Sit on my
right hand.
This they look upon with perpetual won-
der, but not with envy nor repining : No,
amongst all their eyes, no such eye is to be
*bund ; yea, they rejoice in the infinite
wisdom of God in this design, and his infi-
nite love to poor lost mankind. It is wonder-
ful indeed to see him filling the room of their
fallen brethren with new guests from earth ;
yea, such as are born heirs of hell ; not only
that sinful man should thus be raised to a
participation of glory with them who are
spotless, sinless spirits, but that their flesh,
in their Redeemer, should be dignified with
a glory so far beyond them. This is that
mystery they are intent in looking and pry-
ing into, and cannot, nor ever shall, see the
bottom of it ; for it hath no bottom.
2. Jesus Christ is not only exalted above
the angels in absolute dignity, but in rela-
tive authority over them. He is made
Captain over those heavenly bands ; they
are all under his command, for all services
wherein it pleases him to employ them ; and
the great employment he hath, is the at-
tending on his Church, and particular elect
ones ; are they not all ministering spirits,
sent forth to minister to them that shall be
heirs of salvation ? Heb. i. ult. They are
the servants of Christ, and in him, and, at
his appointment, the servants of every be-
liever ; and are many ways serviceable and
useful for their good, which truly we do not
duly consider. There is no danger of over-
valuing them, and inclining to worship them
upon this consideration ; yea, if we take it
right, it will rather take off from that. The
angel judged his argument strong enough to
St. John against that, that he was but his
fellow servant, Rev. xix. 10. But this is
more, that they are servants to us, although
not therefore inferior, it being an honorary
service, yet certainly inferior to our Head,
and so to his mystical body, taken in that
notion as a part of him.
Keflection 1. The height of this our
Saviour's glory will appear the more, if we
reflect on the descent by which he ascended
to it. Oh ! how low did we bring down so
high a Majesty, into the pit wherein we had
fallen, by climbing to be higher than he had
set us. It was high indeed, as we were
fallen so low, and yet he, against whom it
was committed, came down to help us up
again, and to take hold of us, took us on ,•
so the word is, £cnx«^/3<*nr«;, Heb. ii. 16 :
he took not hold of the angels ; let them
go ; hath left them to die for ever : But he
took hold of the seed of Abraham, and took
on him indeed their flesh, dwelling amongst
us, and in a mean part ; emptied himself,
Ixsvaxrs, Phil. ii. 7> an<l became of no re-
pute ; and further, after he descended to the
earth, and into our flesh, in it he became
obedient to death upon the cross, ver. 8, and
descended into the grave ; and by these
steps, was walking towards that glory where-
in he now is ; he abased himself, wherefore,
says the Apostle, God hath highly exalted
him, ver. 9. .So he himself, Luke xxiv.
26, Ought not Christ first to suffer these
things, and so enter into his glory ? Now
this indeed it is pertinent to consider, and
the Apostle is here upon the point of Christ's
suffering. That is his theme ; and there-
fore he is so particular in the ascending of
Christ to his glory. Who, of those that
would come thither, will refuse to follow him
in the way where he led ? He is a«.££y«f,
the leader of our faith, Heb. xii. 2. And
who of those that follow him, will not love
and delight to follow him through any way,
the lowest and darkest ; it is excellent and
safe, and then it ends, you see where.
2. Think not strange of the Lord's me-
thod with his Church, bringing her to so
low and desperate a posture many times.
Can she be in a condition more seemingly
desperate than was her Head ? not only in
ignominious sufferings, but dead and laid in
the grave, and the stone rolled to it and
sealed, and all made sure ? and yet he arose
and ascended, and now sits in glory, and
shall sit till all his enemies become his foot-
stool. Do not fear for him, that they shall
overtop, yea, or be able to reach him, who
is exalted higher than the heavens ; neither
be afraid for his Church, which is his body,
and if her Head be safe and alive, cannot
but partake of safety and life with him.
Though she were, to sight, dead and laid
in the grave, yet shall she rise thence, and
be more glorious than before, Isa. xxvi. 19 ;
and still, the deeper her distress be, shall
rise the higher in the day of deliverance.
Thus, in his dealing with a soul, observe
the Lord's method ; think it not strange
that he brings a soul low, very low, which
he means to comfort and exalt very high in
grace and glory ; that he leads it by hell-
gates to heaven ; that it be at that point,
My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken
me 9 Was not the Head put to use that
word, and so to speak it, as the head speaks
for the body, seasoning it for his members,
and sweetening that bitter cup by his own
drinking of it ? Oh ! what a hard condi-
tion may a soul be brought into, and put to
think, Can He love me, and intend mercy
for me, that leaves me to this 9 And yet,
in all, the Lord is preparing it thus for
comfort and blessedness.
3. Turn your thoughts more frequently to
this excellent subject, the glorious high es-
tate of our great High-priest. The angels
admire this mystery, and we slight it ; they
rejoice in it, and we, whom it certainly more
nearly concerns, are not moved with it ; we
do not draw that comfort and that instruc-
230
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP, ir
tion from it, which it would plentifully af-
ford, if it were sought after : It comforts us
against all troubles and fears. Is He not
on high who hath undertaken for us ? doth
any thing befal us, but it is past first in
heaven ; and shall any thing pass there to
our prejudice or damage ? HE sits there,
and is upon the council of all, who hath
loved us, and given himself for us ; yea,
who as he descended thence for us, did like-
wise ascend thither again for us ; hath made
our inheritance there which he purchased
sure to us, taking possession for us, and in
our name ; since he is there, not only as the
Son of God, but as our Surety, and as our
Head ; and so the believer may think him-
self even already possessed of this right, in-
asmuch as his Christ is there. The saints
are glorified already in their head, Where
he reigns, there I believe myself to reign,
says Augustine.* And consider in all thy
straits and troubles, outward and inward,
they are not hid from him. He knows them,
and feels them, is a compassionate High-
priest, and hath a gracious sense of thy
frailties and griefs, fears and temptations,
and he will not suffer thee to be surcharged ;
but is still presenting thy estate to the Fa-
ther, and using that interest and power he
hath in his affection for thy good. And
what wouldst thou more ? Art thou one
whose heart desires to rest upon him, and
cleave to him ? Thou art knit so to him,
that his resurrection and glory secures thee
thine : His life and thine are not two, but
one life, as that of the head and members ;
and if he could not be overcome of death,
thou canst not neither. Oh ! that sweet
word, Because I live, ye shall live also,
John xiv. 19.
Let thy thoughts and carriage be mould-
ed in this contemplation rightly, ever to look
on thy exalted Head. Consider his glory ;
see not only thy nature raised in him above
the angels, but thy person interested by
faith in that his glory, and then think thy.
self too good to serve any base lust. Look
down on sin and the world with a holy dis-
dain, being united to him who is so exalted
and so glorious. And let not thy mind
creep here ; engage not thy heart to any
thing that time and this earth can afford.
Oh ! why are we so little there, where there
is such a spring of delightful and high
thoughts for us ? If ye be risen with Christ,
seek those things which are above, where
he sits, Col. iii. 1. What mean you ? are
ye such as will let go your interest in this
once crucified, and now glorified Jesus ? if
not, why are ye not more like it ? why does
it not possess your hearts more ? ought it
not to be thus ? should not our hearts be
where our treasure, where our blessed Head'
is ? Oh ! how unreasonable, how unfriendl
Ubi Caput meum regnat, ibi me regnare credo.
ly it is ! how much may we be ashamed to
have room in our hearts for earnest thoughts
or desires, or delights, about any thing be-
side Him ?
Were this deeply impressed upon the
hearts of those that have a right in it, would
there be found in them any engagement to
the poor things that are passing away ?
Would death be a terrible word ? yea,
would it not be one of the sweetest, most
rejoicing thoughts, to solace and ease the
heart under all pressures, to look forward to
that day of liberty ? This infectious dis-
ease* may keep possession all the winter,
and grow hot with the year again. Do not
therefore flatter yourselves, and think it is
past ; you have yet remembering strokes to
keep it in your eye. But however, shall we
abide still here ? or is there any reason,
when things are duly weighed, why we
should desire it ? Well, if you would be un-
tied beforehand, and so feel your separation
from this world less, this is the only way.
Look up to him, who draws up all hearts
that do indeed behold him. Then, I say,
thy heart shall be removed beforehand, and
the rest is easy and sweet. When that is
done, all is gained. And consider how he
desires the completing of our union with
him. Shall it be his request, and earnest
desire, and shall it .not be ours too, that
where he is, there we may be also ? John
xvii. 24. Let us expect it with patient
submission, yet striving by desires and
suits, and looking out for our release from
this body of sin and death.
CHAP. IV.
VER. 1. Forasmuch then as Christ hath suffered for
us in the flesh, arm yourselves likewise with the
same mind : for he that hath suffered in the flesh
hath ceased from sin.
THE main of a Christian's duty lies in
these two things, patience in suffering, and
avoidance of sin, ccvs%<>u xoil ifr^ev, and they
have a natural influence each upon the other.
Although affliction simply doth not, yet af-
fliction sweetly and humbly carried doth,
purify and disengage the heart from sin,
wean it from the world, and the common
ways of it. And again, holy and exact
walking keeps the soul in a sound healthful
temper, and so enables it to patient suffer-
ing, to bear things more easily ; as a strong
body endures fatigue, heat, cold, and hard-
ship, with ease, a small part whereof would
surcharge a sickly constitution. The con-
sciousness of sin, and careless unholy courses,
must wonderfully weaken a soul and dis-
* This probably refers to the Pestilence in 1665.
See the lecture on Chap. iv. 6. Though the Pestilence
doth not affright you so, Sic.
VER. 1.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
231
temper it, so thnt it is not able to endure | tain of our Salvation; that we follow in
much ; but every little thing disturbs it : I suffering, and in doing, seeing both were
so for us. It is strange how some armies
Therefore the apostle hath reason, both to
insist so much on these two points in this
epistle, and likewise to interweave the one
so often with the other, pressing jointly
throughout, the cheerful bearing of all kind
of afflictions, and the careful forbearing all
kind of sin ; and out of the one discourse
he slides into the other, as here.
And as the things agree in their nature,
so in their great pattern and principle, Jesus
Christ ; and the apostle still draws both
from thence ; that of patience, chap. iii. 18 ;
that of holiness here, Forasmuch then as
Christ hath suffered for us, &c.
The chief study of a Christian, and the
vary thing that makes him to be a Christian,
is conformity of Christ. This is the sum
of religion (said that wise heathen,) to be
like him whom thott worshippest.* But this
example being in itself too sublime, is
brought down to our view in Christ ; the
brightness of God is veiled, and veiled in
our own flesh, that we may be able to look on
it. The inaccessible light of the Deily is
so attempered in the humanity of Christ,
that we may read our lesson by it in him,
and may direct our walk by it ; and that
truly is our only way ; there is nothing but
wandering and perishing in all other ways ;
nothing but darkness and misery out of him ;
but he that follows me, says he, shall not
walk in darkness, John viii. 12. And
therefore is he set before us in the gospel, in
so clear and lively colours, that we may
make this our whole endeavour tobe like him.
Consider here, 1. The high engagement
to this conformity. 2. The nature of it.
3. The actual improvement of it. 1. The
engagement lies in this, that he suffered for
us. Of this before ; only in reference to
this, had he come down, as some have mis-
imagined it, only to set us this perfect
way of obedience, and give us an example
of it in our own nature ; this had been very
much. That the Son of God should descend
to teach wretched man, and the great King
to descend into man, and dwell in a taber-
nacle of clay, to set up a school in it, for
such ignorant accursed creatures ! and should
in his own person act the hardest lessons,
both in doing and suffering, to lead us in
both. But the matter goes yet higher than
this. Oh ! how much higher hath he suffer-
ed, not simply as our rule, but as our surety,
and in our stead. He suffered for us in
the flesh. We are the more obliged to make
his suffering our example, because it was
to us more than an example, it was our ran-
som.
This makes the conformity reasonable
in a double respect ; 1. It is due that
we follow him, who led us as the Cap-
» Summa religionis imitari quern colis. PVTH.
lave addicted themselves to their head, to
je at his call night and day, in summer and
winter ; to refuse no travel or endurance of
tiardship for him ; and all only to please him,
and serve his inclination and ambition ; as
Casar's trained bands, especially the vete-
rans, what hardships did they not endure in
counter-marches, and in traversing different
and distant countries ? But besides that,
our Lord and leader is most great and
excellent, and so well deserves following for
his own worth. This lays upon us an obliga-
tion beyond all conceiving, that he first suf-
fered for us ; that he endured such hatred
of men, and such wrath of God the Father,
and went through death, so vile a death, to
procure our life. What can be too bitter
to endure, or too sweet to forsake, to follow
him ? Were this duly considered, would
we cleave to our lusts, or to our ease ?
Would we not go through fire and water,
yea, through death itself, and, were it pos-
sible, through many deaths, to follow him ?
1. Consider, as it is justly due, so it is
made easy by that his suffering for us.
Our burden, that pressed us to hell, being
taken off, is not all that is left, to suffer or
do, as nothing ? Our chains, that bound
us over to eternal death, being knocked off.
shall we not walk, 'shall we not run, in his
ways ? Oh ! think what that burden and
yoke was he hath eased us of ; how heavy,
how unsufferable, it was, and then we shall
think what he so truly says, that all he lays
on is sweet ; His yoke easy, and his burden
light. Matt. xi. 30. Oh ! the happy
change to be rescued from the vilest slavery,
and called to conformity and fellowship with
the Son of God.
2. .The nature of this conformity (to shew
the nearness of it) is expressed in the very
same terms as in the pattern ; it is not a re-
mote resemblance, but the same thing, even
suffering in the flesh. But that we may
understand rightly what suffering is here
meant, it is plainly this, ceasing from sin ;
so suffering in the, flesh here, is not simply
the enduring of afflictions, which is a part
of a Christian's conformity with his head
Christ, Rom. viii. 29, but implies a more
inward and spiritual suffering. It is the
suffering and the dy vng of our corruption, the
taking away the lift of sin by the death of
Christ : and that death of his sinless flesh,
works in the believer the death of sinful flesh,
that is, the corruption of his nature, which
is so usually in Scripture called flesh. Sin
makes man base, drowns him in flesh, and
the lusts of it ; makes the very soul become
gross and earthly ; turns it as it were to flesh :
So the apostle calls the very mind that is
unrenewed, a carnal mind, Rom. viii. 7«
232
A COMMENTARY UPOIS
[CHAP, iv
And what doth the mind of a natural man
hunt after and run out into, from one daj
and year to another ? Is it not on tin
things of this base world, and the concern
ment of his flesh ?* What would he have
but be accommodated to eat, and drink, and
dress, and live at ease ? He minds earth-
ly things, savours and relishes them, anc
cares for them : examine the most of your
pains and time, and your strongest desires,
and most serious thoughts, if they go not
this way, to raise yourselves and yours in your
worldly condition. Yea, the highest projects
of the greatest natural spirits are but earth
still, in respect of things truly spiritual.
All their state designs go not beyond this
poor life that perishes in the flesh, and is
daily perishing, even while we are busiest
upholding it, and providing for it. Present
things, and this lodge of clay, this flesh
and its interest, take up most of our time
and pains ; the most, yea, all, till that
change be wrought the Apostle speaks of,
till Christ be put on, Rom. xiii. 14, Put
ye on the Lord Jesus Christ ; and then the
other will easily follow that follows in the
words, Make no provision for the flesh, to
fulfil the lusts thereof. Once in Christ, and
then your necessary general care for this
natural life, will be regulated and moderated
by the Spirit. And for all unlawful and
enormous desires of the flesh, you shall be
rid of 'providing for these. Instead of all
provision for the life of the flesh in that
sense, there is another guest, and another life,
for you now to wait on and furnish for : In
them that are in Christ, that flesh is dead, they
are freed from its drudgery ; He that hath
suffered in the flesh hath restdd from sin.
Ceased from sin.] He is at rest from it,
a godly death, as they that die in the Lord
rest from their labours, Rev. xiv. 13. He
that hath suffered in the flesh, and is dead
to it, dies indeed in the Lord ; rests from
the base turmoil of sin ; it is no longer his
master. As our sin was the cause of Christ's
death, his death is the death of sin in us ;
and that not simply as he bore a moral pat-
tern of it, but as the real working cause of
it. The death of Christ has in this respect
an effectual influence on the soul, kills it to
sin : / am crucified with Christ, says St.
Paul, Gal. xi. 20. Faith so looks on the
death of Christ, that it takes the impression
of it ; sets it on the heart, kills it unto sin ;
Christ and the believer do not only become
one in law, so as his death stands for theirs,
but are one in nature, so as his death for sin
causes theirs to it, Rom. vi. 3, Baptized
into his death.
This suffering in the flesh being unto
death, and such a death ( crucifying ) hath
indeed pain in it ; but what then, 'it must
be so like his, and the believer like him, in
* Corpora's ncgotium.
willingly enduring it All the pain of his
suffering in the flesh, his love to us digested
and went through it ; so all the pain to our
nature in severing and pulling us from oui
beloved sins, and our dying to them, if his
love be planted in our hearts, that wiU sweet-
en it, and make us delight in it. Love de-
sires nothing more than likeness, and shares
willingly in all with the party loved ; and
above all love, this divine love is p-urest and
highest, and works most strongly that way ;
takes pleasure in that pain, and is a volun-
tary death, as Plato calls love. It is strong
as death, says Solomon, Cant. viii. (5. As
death makes the strongest body fall to the
ground, so doth the love of Christ make the
most active and lively sinner dead to his sin :
And as death severs a man from his dearest
and most familiar friends, thus doth the love
of Christ, and his death flowing from it,
sever the heart from its most beloved sins.
I beseech you seek to have your hearts set
against sin, to hate it, to wound it, and be
dying daily to it. Be not satisfied, unless
ye feel an abatement of it, and a life within
you. Disdain that base service, and being
bought at so high a rate, think yourselves
too good to be slaves to any base lust. You
are called to a more excellent and more ho-
nourable service. And of this suffering in the
fesh, we may safely say what the Apostle
speaks of the sufferings with and for Christ,
;hat the partakers of these sufferings are co-
leirs of glory with Christ ; If we suffer thus
with him, we shall also be glorified with
i, Rom. viii. 17- If we die with him, we
shall live with him for ever.
3. We have the actual improvement <f
.his conformity ; Arm yourselnes with the
ame mind, or thoughts of this mortification.
Death, taken naturally in its proper sense,
jeing an entire privation of life, admits not
of degrees : But this figurative death, this
mortification of the flesh in a Christian, is
gradual ; in so far as he is renewed, and is
animated and acted on by the Spirit of Christ,
ic is thoroughly mortified ; (for this death,
and that new life joined with it, and here
added, ver. 2, go together and grow to-
;ether ;) but because he is not totally renew-
ed, and there is in him of that corruption
till that is here called flesh, therefore it is
lis great task to be gaining further upon it,
and overcoming and mortifying it every day ;
and to this tend the frequent exhortations of
his nature : Mortify your members that
are on the earth ; So, Rom. vi. likewise
reckon yourselves dead to sin, and let it not
eign in your mortal bodies. Thus here,
Arm yourselves with the same mind, with
his very thought. Consider and apply that
uffering of Christ in the flesh, to the end
hat you with him, suffering in the flesh,
nay cease from sin. Think it ought to be
hus, and seek that it may be thus, with you.
VER. 1.
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
233
Arm yourselves.] There is still fighting,
and sin will be molesting you; though
wounded to death, yet will it struggle for
life, and seek to wound its enemy ; will
assault the graces that are in you. Do not
think, if it be once struck, and you have
given it a stab near to the heart, by the
tword of the Spirit, that therefore it will
stir no more. No, so long as you live in the
flesh, in these bowels there will be remain-
ders of the life of this flesh, your natural cor-
ruption ; therefore ye must be armed against
it. Sin will not give you rest, so long as
there is a drop of blood in its veins, one spark
of life in it ; and that will be so long as you
have life here. This old man is' stout, and
will fight himself to death ; and at the weak-
est it will rouse up itself, and exert its dying
spirits, as men will do sometimes more eager-
ly than when they were not so weak, nor so
near death.
This the children of God often find to
their grief, that corruptions which they
thought had been cold dead, stir and rise up
again, and set upon them. A passion or
lust, that, after some great stroke, lay a long
while as dead, stirred not, and therefore they
thought to have heard no more of it, though
it shall never recover fully again, to be lively
as before, yet will revive in such a measure
as to molest, and possibly to foil, them yet
again : Therefore is it continually necessary
that they live in arms, and put them not off to
their dying day ; till they put off the body,
and be altogether free of the flesh. You
may take the Lord's promise for victory in
the end ; that shall not fail ; but do not pro-
mise yourself ease in the way, for that will
not hold. If at some times your enemy have
the advantage, give not all for lost. He
lath often won the day that hath been foiled
<ind wounded in the fight. But likewise
take not all for won, so as to have no more
conflict, when sometimes you have the better,
as in particular battles. Be not desperate
when you lose, nor secure when you gain
them : When it is worst with you do not
throw away your arms, nor lay them away
•when you are at best.
studying it much, as the reason and rule of
mortification, and drawing from it, as the
real cause and spring of mortification.
The pious contemplation of his death will
most powerfully kill the love of sin in the
soul, and kindle an ardent hatred of it. The
jeliever, looking on his Jesus crucified for
lim, and wounded for his transgressions,
and taking in deep thoughts of his spotless
innocency that deserved no such thing, and
of his matchless love, that yet endured it all
for him, will then naturally think, " Shall
I be a friend to that which was his deadly
enemy ? Shall sin be sweet to me, that was
so bitter to him, and that for my sake ? Shall
I ever lend it a good look, or entertain a
favourable thought of that which shed my
Lord's blood ? Shall I live in that for which
he died, and died to kill it in me ?" Oh !
let it not be.
To the end it may not be, let such really
apply that death to work this on the soul ;
for this is always to be added, and is the
main thing indeed, by holding and fastening
that death close to the soul, effectually to kill
the effects of sin in it ; to stifle and crush
them dead, by pressing that death on the
heart ; looking on it, not only as a most com-
plete model, but as having a most effectual
virtue, for this effect, and desiring him, en-
treating our Lord himself, who communicates
himself, and the virtue of his death, to the
believer, that he would powerfully cause it to
flow in upon us, and let us feel the virtue of it.
It is then the only thriving and growing
life, to be much in the lively contemplation
and application of Jesus Christ : to be conti-
nually studying him, and conversing with
him, and diawing from him ; receiving of
his fulness, grace for grace, John i. 16.
Wouldst thou have much power against sin,
and much increase of holiness, let thine eye
be much on Christ ; set thine heart on him ;
let it dwell in him, and be still with him.
When sin is like to prevail in any kind, go
to him, tell him of the insurrection of his
enemies, and thy inability to resist, and de-
sire him to suppress them, and to help thee
against them, that they may gain nothing by
Now, the way to be armed is this, the their stirring, but some new wound. If thy
same mind : How would my Lord, Christ,
carry himself in this case ? and what was his
business in all places and companies ? Was
it not to do the will, and advance the glory,
of his Father ? If I be injured and reviled,
consider how would he do in this ? Would
he repay one injury with another, one re-
proach with another reproach ? No, being
reviled, he reviled not again, 1 Pet. ii. 23.
Well, through his strength, this shall be my
way too. Thus ought it to be with the ; make it like himself.
Christian, framing all his ways and words, thing thou desirest ?
and very thoughts, upon that model, the
mindof Christ, and to study in all things
to walk even as he walked, ] John ii. G ;
heart begin to be taken with, and move to-
wards, sin, lay it before him ; the beams of
his love shall eat out that fire of these sinful
lusts. Wouldst thou have thy pride, and
passions, and love of the world, and self-love,
killed, go sue for the virtue of his death, and
that shall do it ; seek his Spirit, the Spirit
of meekness, and humility, and divine love.
Look on him, and he shall draw thy heart
heavenwards, and unite it to himself, and
And is not that the
VER. 2. That he no longer should live the rest of
his time in the flesh to the lusts of men, but to
the will of God.
234
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. iv.
VER. 3. For the time past of our life may suffice
us to have wrought, the will of the Gentiles, when
we walked in lasciviousness, lusts, excess of wine,
revellings, banquetings, and abominable idolatries.
THE chains of sin arc so strong, and so fas-
tened on our nature, that there is in us no
power to break them off, till a mightier and
stronger Spirit than our own come into us.
The Spirit of Christ dropped into the soul,
makes it able to break through a troop, and
leap over a wall, as David speaks of himself
furnished with the strength of his God, Psal.
xviii. 29. Men's resolutions fall to nothing :
And as a prisoner that offers to escape, and
does not, is bound faster, thus usually it is
with men in their self-purposes of forsaking
sin ; they leave out Christ in the work, and
so remain in their captivity, yea, it grows
upon them ; and while we press them to free
themselves, and show not Christ to them, we
put them upon an impossibility : But a look
to him makes it feasible and easy. Faith in
him, and that love to him which faith begets,
breaks through and surmounts all difficul-
ties. It is the powerful love of Christ that
kills the love of sin, and kindles the love of
holiness in the soul ; makes it a willing
sharer in his death, and so a happy partaker
of his life : For that always follows, and
must of necessity, as here is added, He that
hath suffered in the Jiesh hath ceased from
sin, is crucified and dead to it, but he loses
nothing : Yea, it is his great gain, to lose
that deadly life of the flesh for a new spiri-
tual life ; a life indeed, living unto God.
That is the end why he so dies, that he may
thus live, That he no longer should live, &c.
and yet live far better, live to the will of God.
He that is one with Christ by believing, is
one throughout in death and life. As Christ
rose, so he that is dead to sin with him,
through the power of his death, rises to that
new life with him, through the power of his
resurrection. And these two are our sancti-
fication, which, whosoever do partake of
Christ, and are found in him, do certainly
draw from him. Thus are they joined, Rom.
vi. 11, Likewise reckon ye yourselves dead
indeed to sin, but alive to God, and both
through Christ Jesus our Lord.
All they that do really come to Jesus
Christ, as they come to him as their Saviour
to be clothed with him, and made righteous
by him ; they come likewise to him as their
Sancufier, to be made new and holy by him,
to die and live with him, to follow the Lamb
wheresoever he goes, through the hardest
sufferings, and death itself. And this spi-
ritual suffering and dying with him, is the
universal way of all his followers : They
ere all martyrs thus in the crucifying of sin-
ful flesh, and so dying for him, and with
him ; and they may well go cheerfully through,
though it bear the unpleasant name of death :
Yet as the other death is (which makes it so
little terrible, yea, often to appear so very de.
sirable to them, so is this) the way to a far
more excellent and happy life, so that they
may pass through it gladly, both for the com.
pany and end of it. It is with Christ they
go into his death, as unto life in his life.
Though a believer might be free upon these
terms, he would not. No. sure : Could he
be content with that easy life of sin, instead
of the divine life of Christ ? No, he will do
thus, and not accept of deliverance, that he
may obtaih (as the Apostle speaks of the
martyr, Heb. xi. H5,) a better resurrection.
Think on it again, you to whom your sins
are dear still, and this life sweet ; you are yet
far from Christ in his life.
The Apostle, with intent to press this more
home, expresses more at large the nature of
the opposite estates and lives that he speaks
of, and so sets before his Christian brethren,
1. The dignity of that new life : and then,
2. By a particular reflection upon the former
life, he presses the change. The former life
he calls a living to the fasts of men ; this
new spiritual life, to the will of God.
The lusts of men.] Such as are common
to the corrupt nature of man ; such as every
man may find in himself and perceive in
others. The Apostle in the third verse more
particularly, for further clearness, specifies
those kinds of men that were most notorious
in these lusts, and those kinds of lusts that
were most notorious in men. Writing to the
dispersed Jews, he calls sinful lusts the will
of the Gentiles, as having least controul of
contrary light in them ; and jet the Jews
walked in the same, though they had the law
as a light and rule for the avoiding of them f
and implies, that these lusts were unbeseem-
ing even their former condition as Jews ; but
much more unsuitable to them, as now
Christians. Some of the grossest of these
lusts he names, meaning all the rest, all the
ways of sin, and representing their vileness
in the more lively manner ; not as some take
it, when they hear of such heinous sins, as
if it were to lessen the evil of more civil na-
ture by the comparison, or intimate freedom
from these to be a blameless condition, and a
change of it needless,
means it just contrary.
No, the Holy Ghost
That we may judge
of all sin and of our sinful nature, by our es-
timate of these sins that are most discernible
and abominable ; all sin, though not equal in
degree, yet is of one nature, and originally
springing from one root, arising from the
same unholy nature of man, and contrary to
the same holy nature and will of God.
So then, 1. Those that walk in these high-
ways of impiety, and yet will have the name
of Christians, they are the shame of Chris-
tians, and the professed enemies of Jesus
Christ, and of all others the most hateful to
him : They seem to have taken on his
name, for no other end but to shame and dis-
VEIL 2, 3.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
235
grace it ; but he will vindicate himself, and 1 what heaps, if the wall were digged through,
the blot shall rest upon these impudent per- ' and the light of God going before us, and
sons, that dare hold up their faces in the i leading js in to see them ! The natural
Church of God as parts of it, and are indeed motion and way of the natural heart is no
nothing but the dishonour of it, spots and I other but still seeking out new inventions, a
blots; that dare profess to worship God as I forge of new gods, still either .forming them
his people, and remain unclean, riotous and to itself, or worshipping those it hath already
profane persons. How suits thy sitting here
before the Lord, and thy sitting with vile
ungodly company on the ale-bench ? How
agrees the word, sounds it well, " There
goes a drunken Christian, an unclean, a base-
ly covetous, an earthly-minded Christian !"
and the naming of these is not besides the
text, but agreeable to the very words of it ;
for the Apostle warrants us to take it under
the name of idolatry ; and in that name he
reckons it to be mortified by a Christian,
Col. iii. 5, Mortify therefore your members
which are upon the earth, fornication, un-
cleanness, inordinate affection, evil con-
cupiscence, and covetousness, which is ido-
latry.
2. But yet men, that are some way ex-
empted from the blot of these foul impieties,
may still remain slaves to sin, alive to it,
and dead to God, living to the lusts of men,
and not to the will of God, pleasing others
and themselves, displeasing him. And the
smoothest, best bred, and most moralized na-
tural man, is in this base thraldom \ And
the more miserable, that he dreams of liberty
:n the midst of his chains, thinks himself
clean by looking on those that wallow in
jross profaneness ; takes measure of himself
>y the most crooked lives of ungodly men
about him, and so thinks himself very straight ;
jut lays not the straight rule of the will of
Sod to his ways and heart, which, if he did,
le would then discover much crookedness in
lis ways, and much more in his heart, that
now he sees not, but takes it to be square and
Therefore I advise and desire you to look
more narrowly to yourselves in this, and see
whether you be not still living to your own
lusts and wills instead of God ; seeking, in
all your ways, to advance and please your-
selves and not him. Is not the bent of your
hearts set that way ? Do not your whole de-
rires and endeavours run in that channel,
how you and yours may be somebody, and
jou may have wherewithal to serve the flesh,
and to be accounted of and respected amongst
fflen ? And if we trace it home, all a man's
honouring and pleasing of others, tends to,
and ends in, pleasing of himself. It resolves
in that, and is it not so meant by him ? He
pleases men, either that he gain by them, or
be respected by them, or something that is
Btill pleasing to himself may be the return of
it. So self is the grand idol, for which all
other heart- idolatries are committed. And,
indeed, in the unrenewed heart there is no
framed ; committing spiritual fornication
from God with the creature, and multiplying
lovers every where, as it is tempted : A»
the Lord complains of his people, upon every
high hill, and under every green tree, Jer.
ii. 20, iii. 6.
You will not believe so much ill of your-
selves, will not be convinced of this unplea-
sant but necessary truth : And this is a part
of our self-pleasing, that we please ourselves
in this, that we will not see it ; not in our
callings and ordinary ways, not in our reli-
gious exercises, for in these we naturally aim
at nothing but ourselves ; either our reputa-
tion, or at bqst our own safety and peace ;
either to stop the cry of conscience for the
present, or escape the wrath that is to come :
But not in a spiritual regard of the will of
God, and out of pure love to himself for him-
self; yet thus it should be, and that love the
divine fire in all our sacrifices. The carnal
mind is in the dark, and sees not its vileness
in living to itself ; will not confess it to be
so ; but when God comes into the soul, he
lets it see itself, and all-its idols and idola-
tries, and forces it to abhor and loathe itself
for all its abominations ; and having disco-
vered its filthiness to itself, then he purges
and cleanses it for himself, from all its Jilthi-
ness, and from all its idols, Ezek. xxxvi.
25, according to his promise, and comes in
and takes possession of it for himself, enthrones
himself in the heart, and it is never right nor
happy till that be done.
But to the will of God.] We readily
take any little slight change for true conver.
sion, but we may see here that we mistake
it ; it doth not barely knock off some obvious
apparent enormities, but casts all in a new
mould ; alters the whole frame of the heart
and life ; kills a man, and makes him alive
again ; and this new life is contrary to the
old : For the change is made with -that in-
tent, that he live no longer to the lusts of
men, but to the will of God.
He is now'indeed a new creature, hav-
ing a new judgment and new thought of
things, and so accordingly, new desires and
affections, and answerable to these new ac-
tions : Old things are past away and dead>
and all things 'become new, 2 Cor. v. 17-
Politic men have observed, that in states,
if alterations must be, it is better to alter
many things than a few. And physicians
have the same remark for one's habit and cus-
tom for bodily health, upon the same ground ;
because things do so relate one to another,
scarcity of them. Oh ! what multitudes, that except they be adapted and suited to-
23G
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. iv.
gether in the change, it avails riot ; yea, it
sometimes proves the worse in the whole,
though a few things in particular seem to be
bettered. Thus, half reformations, in a
Christian, turn to his prejudice ; it is only
best to be thoroughly reformed, and to give
up with all idols ; not to live one half to him-
self and the world, and, as it were, another
half to God ; for that is but falsely so, and,
in reality, it cannot be. The only way is to
make a heap of all, to have all sacrificed to-
gether, and to live to no lust, but altogether,
and only, to God. Thus it must be ; there
is no monster in the new creation, no hall
new creature, either all, or not at all,
W fous. We have to deal with die Maker
and the Searcher of the heart in this turn,
and he will have nothing unless he have the
heart, and none of that neither, unless he
have it all. If thou pass over into his king-
dom, and become his subject, thou must have
him for thy only Sovereign. . Loyalty can
admit of no rivality, * and least of all the
highest, and best of all. If Christ be thy
King, then his laws and sceptre must rule all
inthee, thou must now acknowledge no foreign
power ; that will be treason.
And if he be thy husband, thou must re-
nounce all others ; wilt thou provoke him to
jealousy? yea, beware how thou givest a
thought or a look of thy affection any other
way, for he will spy it, and will not endure
it. The title of a husband is as strict and
tender, as the other of a king.
It is only best to be thus : it is thy great
advantage and happiness to be thus entirely
freed from so many tyrannous base lords,
and now subject only to one, and he so great,
and withal so gracious and sweet a King ;
the Prince of Peace. Thou wast hurried
before, and racked with the very multitude
of them ; thy lusts, so many cruel task-mas-
ters over thee, they gave thee no rest, and the
work they set thee to was base and slavish,
more than the burdens, and pots, and toiling
in the clay of Egypt ; thou wast held to work
in the earth, to pain, and to soil and foul thy-
self with their drudgery.
Now, thou hast but one to serve, and that
is a great ease ; and it is no slavery, but true
honour, to serve so excellent a Lord, and in
so high services : For he puts thee upon
nothing but what is neat, and what is honour-
able. Thou art as a vessel of honour in his
house, for his best employments ; now thou
art not in pain how to please this person and
the other ; nor needest thou to vex thyself to
gain men, to study their approbation and
he hath- told thee what he likes and desires,
and alters not : So now thou knowest whom
thou hast to do withal, and what to do, whom
to please, and what will please him, and this
cannot but much settle thy mind, and put
thee at ease : Thou mayest say heartily, as
rejoicing in the change of so many for one,
and such, for such a one, as the Church says,
Isa. xxvi. 13, O Lord our God, other lords
besides thee have had dominion over me,
but now by thee only will I make mention of
thy name ; now none but thyself, not so much
as the name of them any more ; away with
them ; through thy grace thou only shalt be
my God. I cannot endure that any thing
be named with thee.
Now that it may be thus, that we may
wholly live to the will of God, we first must
know his will, what it is. Persons grossly
ignorant of God, and of his will, cannot live
to him ; we cannot have fellowship with him,
and walk in darkness, for he is light, 1
John i. 6,
amongst us,
This takes off a great many
that have not so much as a
common notion of the will of God. But be-
sides, that knowledge, which is a part, and
(I may say) the first part, of the renewed
image of God, is not a natural knowledge of
spiritual things, merely attained by human
teaching or industry ; but it is a beam of
God's own, issuing from himself, both en-
lightening and enlivening the whole soul. It
gains the affection and stirs to action ; and
so indeed, it acts and increases by acting ;
for the more we walk according to what we
know of the will of God, the more we shall
be advanced to know more. That is the
real proving what is his good, and holy, and
acceptable will, Rom. xii. 2. So says
Christ, // any will do the will of my Father,
he shall know of the doctrine, John vii. 17.
Our lying off from the lively use of known
truth, keeps us low in the knowledge of God,
and communion with him.
2. So then upon that knowledge of God's
will, where it is spiritual, and from himself,
follows the suiting of the heart with it, the
affections taking the stamp of it, and]
agreeing with it ; receiving the truth in the
love of it, so that the heart may be trans-
formed into it, and now not driven to obe- 1
dience violently, but sweetly moving to it,]
iy love within the heart framed to the love]
of God, and so of his will.
3. As Divine knowledge begets this af-l
Action, so this affection will bring forth\
action, real obedience. For these three are]
nseparably linked, and each dependent on,
_, -rj,.v,, „ aim niseparaDiy unKea, ana eacn dependent on,
Honour ; nor to keep to thine own lusts, and | and the product of, one another. The af-
cmserve their mind. Ihou bast none but fection is not blind, but flowing from know-
tPV I rful rr\ nloooo ti-i «11 . ~.,J : :• T_ _»i , , _-'_ °
thy God to please in all ; and if he be pleas-
ed, thou mayest disregard who be displeas-
ed. His will is not fickle and changing as
men's are, and as thine own hath often been ;
* Omnisque potestas imfiatkr-s coasortis
ledge, nor actual obedience constrained, but
flowing from affection ; and the affection is
not idle, seeing it brings forth obedience :
nor the knowledge dead, seeing it begets
affection.
VF.R. 2, 3.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
23?
Thus the renewed, the living Christian,
is all for God ; a sacrifice entirely offered
up to God, and rf living sacrifice, which
lives to God. He takes no more notice of
his own carnal will ; hath renounced that to
embrace the holy will of God ; and, there-
fore, though there is a contrary law and will
in him, yet he does not acknowledge it, but
only the law of Christ, as now established in
him ; that law of love, by which he is sweet-
ly and willingly led to real obedience. So
that he consults not now in his ways with
Jlesh and blood, what will please them, but
only inquires what will please his God : and
knowing his mind, resolves to demur no
more, nor to ask consent of any other. That
he will do ; and it is reason enough to him,
my Lord wills it ; therefore in his strength,
I will do it ; for now I live to his will, it is
my life to study and obey it.
Now, we know what is the true character
of the redeemed of Christ, that they are
freed from the service of themselves and of
the world, yea, dead to it, and have no life
but for God, and all his.
Let this, then, be our study and ambi-
tion, to attain this, and to grow in it ; to be
daily further freed from all other ways and
desires, and more wholly addicted to the
will of our God ; displeased when we find
any thing else stir or move within us, but
that, — that, the spring of our motion in
every work.
1. Because we know that his sovereign
will is (and is most justly) the glory of his
name, therefore are we not to rest till this
be set up in our view, as our end in all, and
to count all our plausible doings as hateful,
(as indeed they are) that are not aimed at
this end ; yea, endeavouring to have it as
frequently, and as expressly, before us as we
can, still keeping our eye on the mark ;
throwing away, yea undoing, our own inte-
rest, not seeking ourselves in any thing, but
him in all.
2. As living to his will is the great and
ultimate end we should propose in all our
intentions and actions, so in all and every
step towards their execution or accomplish-
ment : For we cannot attain his end but in
his way, nor can we intend it without a re-
signation of the way to his prescription :
taking all our directions from him, how we
shall honour him in all. The soul that
lives to him hath enough, not only to make
any thing warrantable but amiable ; it is his
care to seek his will ; and, having found it,
he not only does it, but delights to do it ;
that is, to live to him, to find it our life ; as
we speak of a work wherein meji do most,
and with most delight employ themselves.
" That such a lust be crucified, is it thy
will, Lord ? then no more advising, no more
delay. How dear soever that was when I
lived to it, it is now as hateful, seeing I live
to thee who hatest it. Wilt thou have me
urget an injury, though a great one, and
.ove the person that hath wronged me ?
While I lived to myself and my passions,
this had been hard. But now how sweet is
it ! seeing I live to thee, and am glad to be
put upon things most opposite to my corrupt
heart ; glad to trample upon my own will,
to follow thine ; and this I daily aspire to
and aim at, to have no will of my own, but
that thine be in me, that I may live to thee,
as one with thee ; and thou my rule and
delight. Yea, not to use the very natural
comforts of my life but for thee ; to eat, and
drink, and sleep for thee ; and not to please
myself, but to be enabled to serve and please
thee ; to make one offering of myself and all
my actions to thee, my Lord."
Oh ! it is the only sweet life to be living
thus, and daily learning to live more fully
thus. It is heaven this, a little scantling of
it here, and a pledge of whole heaven :
This is, indeed, the life of Christ ; not only
like his, but one with his ; it is his Spirit,
his life derived into the soul ; and, therefore,
both the most excellent and certainly most
permanent, for he dieth no more, and there-
fore this his life cannot be extinguished.
Hence is the perseverance of the saints ; be-
cause they have one life with Christ, and so
are alive unto God, once for all, for ever.
It is true, the former custom of sin would
plead old possession with grace ; and this
the Apostle implies here, that because for-
merly we lived to our lusts, they will urge
that ; but he teaches us to beat it directly
back on them, and turn the edge of it as a
most strong reason against them. " True
you had so long time of us, the more is our
sorrow and shame, and the more reason that
it be no longer so."
The rest of his time in the flesh.]
That is, iii this body, not to be spent as the
foregoing, in living to the Jlesh, that is, the
corrupt lusts of it, and the common »vays of
the world : But as often as the Christian
looks back on that, to find it as a spur in his
side, to be the more earnest, and more wholly
busied in living much to God, having lived
so long contrary to him, in living to the flesh.
The past may suffice ; there is a figure in
that,* meaning much more than the words
express : It is enough ! Oh ! too much, to
have lived so long, so miserable a life.
Now, says the Christian, " Oh ! corrupt
lusts and deluding world ! look for no more,
I have served you too long. The rest,
whatsoever it is, must be to my Lord ; to
live to him by whom I live ; and ashamed
and grieved I am, I was so long in begin-
ning. So much past, it may be, the most,
of my short race past, before I took notice
of God, or looked towards him. Oh ! how
have I lost, and worse than lost, all my by-
* Called in the Schools, Lyplotes.
238
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. ir.
past days ! Now, had I the advantages and
abilities of many men, and were I to live
many ages, all should be to live to my God,
and honour him. And what strength I have,
and what time I shall have, through his
grace, shall be wholly his." And when
any Christian hath thus resolved, his intend-
ed life being so imperfect, and the time so
short, the poorness of the offer would break
his heart, were there not an eternity before
him, wherein he shall live to his God, and
in him, without blemish and without end.
Spiritual tilings being once discerned by
a spiritual light, the whole soul is carried
after them ; and the ways of holiness are
never truly sweet till they be thoroughly em-
braced with a full renunciation of all that is
contrary to them.
All his former ways of wandering from
God are very hateful to a Christian, who is
indeed returned and brought home ; and
those most of all hateful, wherein he hath
most wandered and most delighted. A sight
of Christ gains the heart, makes it break
from all entanglements of its own lusts, and
of the profane world about it. And these
are the two things the Apostle here aims at,
exhorting Christians to the study of new-
ness of life, and shewing the necessity of it.
He intimates that they cannot be Christians
without it ; he opposes their new estate and
engagement, to the old customs of their
former condition, and to the continuing cus-
tom and conceit of the ungodly world ; that
against both they maintain that rank and
dignity to which now they are called, and,
in a holy disdain of both, walk as the re-
deemed of the Lord. Their own former
custom he speaks to, ver. 2, 3, and to the
custom and opinion of the world, ver. 4, and
both these will set strong upon a man, es-
pecially while he is yet weak, and newly
entered into that new estate.
1. His old acquaintance, his wonted
lusts, will not fail to bestir themselves "to
accost him in their most obliging familiar
way, and represent their long continued
friendship. But the Christian, following
the principles of his new being, will not
entertain any long discourse with them, but
cut them short ; tell them that the change
he hath made he avows, and finds it so
happy, that these former delights may put
off hopes of regaining him. No, though
they dress themselves in their best array,
and put on all their ornaments, and say, as
that known word of that courtesan, / am the
same I was, the Christian will answer as he
did, / am not the same I was. And not
only thus will he turn off the plea of former
acquaintance that sin makes, but turn back
upon it, as, in his present thoughts, making
much against it. " The longer I was so
deluded, the more reason now that I be
wiser ; the more time so mispent, the more
pressing necessity of redeeming it. Oh ! I
have too long lived in that vile slavery. All
was but husks I fed on ; / was laying out
my money for that which was no bread, and
my labour for that which satisfied not, Isa.
Iv. 2. Now I am on the pursuit of a good
that I am sure will satisfy, will fill the larg-
est desires of my soul ; and shall I be sparing
and slack, or shall any thing call me off from
it ? Let it not be. I that took so much pains
early and late, to serve and sacrifice to so bass
a god ; shall I not now live more to my new
Lord, the living God, and sacrifice my time
and strength, and my whole self, to him ?"
And this is still the regret of the sensible
Christian, that he cannot attain to that un-
wearied diligence, and that strong bent of
affection, in seeking communion with God,
and living to him, that sometimes he had
for the service of sin ; he wonders that it
should be thus with him, not to equal that
which it were so reasonable that he should
so far exceed.
It is, beyond expression, a thing to be
lamented, that so small a number of men
regard God, the author of their being, that
so few live to Him in whom they live ; re-
turning that being and life they have, and
all their enjoyments, as due to him from
whom they all flow. And then how pitiful
is it, that the small number that is thus
minded, minds it so remissly and coldly,
and is so far outstripped by the children of
this world, that they follow painted follies
and lies with more eagerness and industry
than the children of wisdom do that certain
and solid blessedness that they seek after.*
Strange ! that men should do so much vio-
lence one to another and to themselves in
body and mind, for trifies and chaff ! and
that there is so little to be found of that al-
lowed and commanded violence, for a king-
dom, and such a kingdom that cannot be
moved, Heb. xii. 2B ; a word too high fol
all the monarchies under the sun.
And, should not our diligence and vio-
lence in this so worthy a design be so much
the greater, the later we begin to pursue it ?
They tell it of Cassar, that when he passed
into Spain, meeting there with Alexander's
statue, it occasioned him to weep, consider-
ing that he was up so much more early, hav-
ing performed so many conquests in those
years, wherein he thought he himself had
done nothing, and was but yet beginning.
Truly it will be a sad thought, to a really
renewed mind, to look back on the flower
of youth and strength as lost in vanity ; if
not in gross profaneness, yet in self-serving
and self-pleasing, and in ignorance and ne-
glect of God. And perceiving their few
years so far spent ere they set out, they will
account days precious, and make the more
haste, and desire with holy David, enlarged
* Plus Uli ad vanitatem, auam nos ad veritatein.
. 2, 3.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
239
hearts to rnn the way of God's command-
ments, Psal. cxix. 32. They will study to
tive much in a little time ; and, having lived
all the past time to no purpose, will be sen-
sible they have none now to spare upon the
lasts and ways of the flesh, and vain societies
and visits : Yea, they will be redeeming all
they can even from their necessary affairs,
for that which is more necessary than all other
necessities, that one thing needful, to learn
the will of our God, and live to it ; this is
our business, our high calling, the main and
most excellent of all our employments.
Not that we are to cast off our particular
callings, or omit due diligence in them ; for
that will prove a snare, and involve a person
in things more opposite to godliness. But
certainly this living to God requires, 1. A
fit measuring of thy own ability for affairs,
and, as far as thou canst choose, fitting thy
load to thy shoulders, not surcharging thy-
self with it. An excessive burden of busi-
nesses, either by the greatness or multitude
of them, will not fail to entangle thee, and
depress thy mind ; and will hold it so down,
that thou shalt not find it possible to walk
upright and look upwards, with that freedom
and frequency that becomes heirs of heaven.
2. The measure of thy affairs being adapt-
ed, look to thy affection in them, that it be
regulated too. Thy heart may be engaged
in thy little business as much, if thou watch
it not, as in many and great affairs. A man
may drown in a little brook or poolj as well
as in a great river, if he be down and plunge
himself into it, and put his head under water.
Some care thou must have, that thou mayest
not care ; these things are thorns indeed ;
thou must make a hedge of them to keep
out those temptations that accompany sloth,
and extreme want that waits on it : P-ut let
them be the hedge ; suffer them not to grow
within the garden : Though they increase,
set not thy heart on them, nor set them in thy
heart. That place is due to another, is made
to be the garden of thy beloved Lord ; made
for the best plants and flowers ; and there
they ought to grow, the love of God, and
faith, and meekness, and the other fragrant
graces of the Spirit. And know that this is
no common nor easy matter to keep the heart
disengaged in the midst of affairs, that still
it be reserved for Him whose right it is.
3. Not only labour to keep thy mind spiri-
tual in itself, but by it put a spiritual stamp
even upon thy temporal employments ; and
so thou shalt live to God, not only without
prejudice of thy calling, but even in it, and
shalt converse with him in thy shop, or in the
field, or in thy journey, doing all in obedience
to him, and offering all, and thyself withal,
as a sacrifice to him : Thou still with him,
and he still with thee in all. This is to live
to the will of God indeed, to follow his di-
rection, and intend his glory in all. Thus
the wife, in the very oversight of her house,
and the husband, in his affairs abroad, mar
be living to God, raising their low employ-
ments to a high quality this way, " Lord,
even this mean work I do for thee, comply-
ing with thy will, who hast put me in this
station, and given me this task ; thy will be
done. Lord, I offer up even this worii to
thee, accept of me, and of my desire to obey
thee in all." And as in their work, so in
their refreshments and rest, such Christians
pursue all for him, whether they eat or
drink, doing all for this reason, because it
is his will ; and for this end, that he may
have glory ; bending the use of all their
strength, and all his mercies, that way ; set-
ting this mark on all their designs and ways,
this for the glory of my God, and this fur-
ther for his glory, I Cor. x. 31, so from one
thing to another throughout their whole life.
This is the art of keeping the heart spiritual
in all affairs, yea, of spiritualizing the affairs
themselves in their use, that in themselves
are earthly. This is the elixir that turns
lower metal into gold, the mean actions of
this life, in a Christian's hands, into obe-
dience and holy offerings unto God.
And were we acquainted with the way of
intermixing holy thoughts, ejaculatory eye-
ings of God, in our ordinary ways, it would
keep the heart in a sweet temper all the day
long, and have an excellent influence into
all our ordinary actions and holy perform-
ances, at those times when we apply our-
selves solemnly to them. Our hearts would
be near them, not so far off to seek, and call
in, as usually they are through the neglect
of this. This were to walk with God in-
deed ; to go all the day long as in our Fa-
ther's hand ; whereas, without this, our pray-
ing morning and evening looks but as a for-
mal visit, not delighting in that constant con-
verse which yet is our happiness and honour,
and makes all estates sweet. This would re-
fresh us in the hardest labour ; as they that
carry the spices from Arabia are refreshed
with the smell of them in their journey ; and
some observe, that it keeps their strength,
and frees them from fainting.
If you would then live to God indeed, be
not satisfied without the constant regard of
him ; and whatsoever hath attained most ef
it, study it yet more to set the Lord always
before you, as David professeth, Psal. xvi.
8, and then shall you have that comfort that
he adds, He shall be still at your right hand,
that you shall not be moved.
And you that are yet to begin to this,
think what his patience is, that, after you
have slighted so many calls, you may yet be-
gin to seek him, and live to him ; and then
consider, if you still despise all this goodness,
how soon it may be otherwise ; you may be
past the reach of this call, and may not begin,
! but be cut off for ever from the hopes of it
240
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. rv.
Oh, how sad an estate ! and the more, by
the remembrance of these slighted offers and
invitations ! Will you then yet return, you
that would share in Christ ? Let go those
lusts to which you have hitherto lived, and
embrace him, and in him there is spirit and
life for you. He shall enable you to live
this heavenly life to the will of God, his
God and your God, and his Father and
your Father, John xx. 17- Oh ! delay no
longer this happy change ; how soon may
that puff of breath that is in thy nostrils,
who hearest this, be extinguished ! and art
thou willing to die in thy sins, rather than
that they die before thee ? Thinkest thou it
a pain to live to the will of God ? Sure it
will be more pain to lie under his eternal
wrath. Oh ! thou knowest not how sweet
they find it that have tried it ! Or thinkest
thou, I will afterwards ? Who can make
thee sure either of that afterwards, or of that
will, if but afterwards ? Why not now pre-
sently, without further debate ? Hast thou
not served sin long enough ? may not the
time past in that service suffice, yea, is it not
too much ? Wouldst thou only live unto
God as little time as may be, and think the
dregs of thy life good enough for him ?
What ingratitude and gross folly is this !
Yea, though thou wert sure of coming into
him, and being accepted, yet, if thou know-
est him in any measure, thou wouldst not
think it a privilege to defer it, but willingly
choose to be free from the world and thy
lusts, to be immediately his, and wouldst,
with David, make haste and not delay to
keep his righteous judgments : all the time
tliou livest without him, what a filthy wretch-
ed life is it, if that can be called life that is
without him ? To live to sin, is to live still
in a dungeon ; but to live to the will of God,
is to walk in liberty and light ; to walk by
light unto light, by the beginnings of it to
the fulness of it, that is, in his presence.
VER. 4. Wherein they think it strange that you run
not with them to the same excess of riot, speak-
ing evil of you ;
VER. 5. Who shall give account to him that is ready
to judge the quick and the dead.
GHACE, until it reach its home, and end
in glory, is still in conflict, with a restless
party within and without, yea, the whole
world against it. It is a stranger here, and
is accounted and used so ; they think it
strange that you run not with them, and
they speak evil of you. These wondering
thoughts they vent in reproaching words.
In these two verses we have these three
things : 1. The Christian's opposite course
or luxury. Though all natural men are not,
in the grossest kind, guilty of this, yet they
are all of them some way truly riotous or
luxurious, lavishing away themselves, and
their days, upon the poor perishing delights
of "sin, each according to his own palate and
humour. As all persons that are riotous,
in the common sense of it, gluttons or drunk-
ards, do not love the same kind of meats or
drink, but have several relishes or appetites,
yet they agree in the nature of the sin ; so
the notion enlarged after that same manner,
to the different custom of corrupt nature,
takes in all the ways of sin ; some glutting
in, and continually drunk with pleasures and
carnal enjoyments, others with the cares of
this life, which our Saviour reckons with
surfeiting and drunkenness, as being a kind
of it, and surcharging the heart as they do,
as there he expresses it, Luke xxi. 34, Take
heed to yourselves, lest at any time your
hearts be overcharged with surfeiting and
drunkenness, and cares of this life. What-
soever it is that draws away the heart from
God, that, so plausible soever, doth debauch
and destroy us. We spend and undo our-
selves upon it, as the word u.aw<rust. signifies,
making havoc of all. And the other word,
x\>K%vffis, profusion and dissolute lavishing,
pouring out the affection upon vanity. It is
scattered and defiled as water spilt upon the
ground, that cannot be cleansed nor gathered
up again. And the representation is indeed
very just ; it passes all our skill and strength
to recover and recollect our hearts for God ;
he only can do it for himself; he that made
it can gather it, and cleanse it, and make
it new, and unite it to himself. Oh ! what
a scattered, broken, unstable thing is the
carnal heart till it be changed, falling in love
with every gay folly it meets withal, and
running out to rest profusely upon things
like its vain self, that suit and agree with it,
and serve its lusts. It can dream and muse
upon these long enough, any thing that feeds
the earthliness or pride of it ; can be prodigal
of hours, and let out floods of thoughts, where
a little is too much, but is bounded and strait-
ened where al) are too little ; hath not one
fixed thougnt in a whole day to spare for God.
And tiuly this running out of the heart
is a continual drunkenness and madness : it
is not capable of reason, and will not be stop-
ped in its current by any persuasion ; it is
mad upon its idols, as the Prophet speaks,
Jer. 1. 38. You may as well speak to a
river in its course, and bid it stay, as speak
to an impenitent sinner in the course of his
iniquity ; and all the other means you can
loathe world. 2. The opposite thoughts and (use, is but as the putting of your finger to a
speeches of this course. 3. The supreme and rapid stream to stay it. But there is a hand
hnal judgment of both.
I. I e opposite course, in that they run
to excesses of not. 2. You run not with
MM. I hey run to excesses, iran^s, of riot
can Doth stop ^ turn the most impetuous
torrent of the heart, Prov. xxi. 1, be it even
of a King, that will least endure any othci
^ontrolment.
VEK. 4, 5.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
241
N >w, as the ungodly world naturally moves i and Finisher of our faith. And so, 1 John
to this profusion with a strong and swift mo-
tion, runs to if, so it runs tor/ether to it,
and that makes the' current both the stronger
and swifter ; as a number of brooks falling
into one main channel make a mighty stream.
And every man naturally is, in his birth, and
in (he course of his life, just as a brook, that
of itself is carried to that strain of sin that
is in the world, and then falling into it, is
carried rapidly along with it. And if every
sinner, taken apart, bs so inconvertible by
all created power, how much more hard a
task is a public reformation, and turning a
land from its course of wickedness ; all that
is set to dam up their way, doth at the best
but stay them a little, and they swell, and
rise, and run over with more noise and vio-
lence than if they had not been stoppsd.
Thus we find outward restraints prove, and
thus the very public judgments of God on
us. They may have made a little interrup-
tion, but upon the abatement of them, the
course of sin, in all kinds, seems to be now
more fierce, as it were to regain the time lost
in that constrained forbearance : So that we
see the need of much prayer to entreat his
powerful hand, that can turn the course of
Jordan, that he would work, not a tempo-
rary, but an abiding change of the course of
(his land, and cause many souls to look
upon Jesus Christ, and flow into him, as
the word is, in Psal. xxxiv. 5.
This is their course, but you run not
with them. The godly are a small and weak
company, and yet run counter to the grand
torrent of the world, just against them. And
there is a Spirit within them, whence that
their contrary motion flows ; a Spirit strong
enough to maintain it in them, against all
the crowd and combined course of the un-
godly, 1 John iv. 4, Greater is he that is
in yon, than he that is in the world. As Lot
in Sodom, his righteous soul was not carried
with them, but vexed with their ungodly
doings. There is to a believer the example
of Christ, to set against the example of the
world, and the Spirit of Christ against the
spirit of the world ; and these are by far
the more excellent and stronger. Faith,
looking to him, and drawing virtue from him,
makes the soul surmount all discouragements
and oppositions ; so Hebrews xii. 2, Look-
ing to Jesus : And not only as an example
worthy to oppose to the world's examples ;
the saints were so, Chap.- xi. and Chap, xii ;
but he more than they all : But further, he
i» the Author and finisher of our faith
and so we eye him, as having endured the
cross, and despised the shame, and as sat
down at the right hand of the throne of
God. Not only that in doing so, we may
follow him in that way, unto that end as our
pattern, but as our Head, from whom we | miserable. He knows the depravedness and
borrow our strength to follow so, the Author \ blindness o" nature in this ; knows it by him-
v. 4, This is our victory, whereby we over-
come the world, even our faith.
The Spirit of God shews the believer
clearly both the baseness of the ways of sin,
and the wretched measure of their end.
That divine light discovers the fading and
false blush of the pleasures of sin, that there
is nothing under them but true deformity
and rottenness, which the deluded gross world
does not S2e, but takes the first appearance
of it for true and solid beauty, and so is en-
amoured with a painted strumpet. And as
he sees the vileness of that love of sin, he
sees the final unhappiness of it, that her
ways lead doten to the chambers of death.
Methinks a believer is as one standing upon
a high tower, that sees the way wherein the
world runs, in a valley, as an unavoidable
precipice, a steep edge, hanging over the
bottomless pit, where all that are not reclaim-
ed fall over before they be aware ; this they,
in their low way, perceive not, and therefore
walk and run on in the smooth pleasures and
ease of it towards their perdition ; but he
that sees the end will not run with them.
And as he hath by that light of the
Spirit this clear reason of thinking on, and
taking another course, so by that Spirit he
fttth a very natural bent to a contrary motion,
that he cannot be one with them. That
Spirit moves him upwards, whence it camt,
and makes that, in so far as he is renewed,
his natural motion, though he hath a clog of
flesh that cleaves to him, and so breeds him
some difficulty ; yet in the strength of that
new nature he overcomes it, and goes on till
he attain his end, where all the difficulty in
the way presently is over-reward zA. and for-
gotten ; that makes amends for every weary
step, that every one of those that walk in
that way docs appear in Zion before God,
Psal. Ixxxiv. 6.
2. We have their opposite thoughts and
speeches of each other ; they think it strange,
speaking evil of you. The Christian and
the carnal man are most wonderful to each
other. The one wonders to see the other
walk so strictly, and deny himself to thesa
carnal liberties that the most take, and take
for so necessary, that they think they could
not live without them. And the Christian
thinks it strange that men should be so
bewitched, and still remain children in the
vanity of their turmoil, weary ing and humour-
ing themselves from morning to night, run-
ning after stories and fancies, ever busy doing
nothing ; wonders that the delights of earth
and sin can so long entertain and please men,
and persuade them to give Jesus Christ so
many refusals ; to turn from their life and
happiness, and choose to be miserable ; yea
and take much pains to make themselves
242
self that once he was so, and therefore wonders
not so much at them as they do at him ; yet
the unreasonableness and frenzy of that course
now appears to him in so strong a light,
that he cannot but wcnder at these woeful
mistakes. But the ungodly wonder far more
at him, not knowing the inward cause of his
different choice and way. The believer, as
we said, is upon the hill ; he is going up,
looks back on them in the valley, and sees
their way tending to, and ending in death,
and calls them to retire from it as loud as he
can ; tells them the danger : but either they
hear not, nor understand this language, or
will not believe him ; finding present ease
and delight in their way, they will not con-
sider and suspect the end of it ; but they
judge him the fool that will not share with
them, and take that way where such multi-
tudes go, and with such ease ; and some of
them with their train, and horses, and
coaches, and all their pomp : And he, and
a few straggling poor creatures like him,
climbling up a craggy steep hill, and will by
no means come off from that way, and par-
take of theirs ; not knowing, or not believ-
ing, that at the top of that hill he climbs,
is that happy glorious city, the new Jeru-
salem, whereof he is a citizen, and whither
he is tending ; not believing that he knoVs
the end both of their way and his own ; and
therefore would reclaim them if he could, but
will by no means return unto them, Jer. xv.
19, as the Lord commanded the Prophet.
The world thinks strange that a Christian
can spend so much time in secret prayer,
not knowing or being able to conceive the
sweetness of communion with God, which
he attains that way ; yea, while he feels it not,
how sweet it is beyond the world's enjoy-
ments, to be but seeking after it, and wait-
ing for it. Oh ! the delight that is in the
bitterest exercise of repentance ! The very
tears, m-'-ch more the succeeding harvest of
joy '. It is strange unto a carnal man to see
the child of God disdain the pleasures of sin,
not knowing the higher and purer delights
and pleasures that he is called to,* and of
which he hath, it may be, some part at
present ; but however the fulness of them in
assured hope.
The strangeness of the wo'Ws way to the
Christian, and his to it, thousu that is some-
what unnatural, yet affects them very different-
ly. He looks on the deluded sinners with pity,
they on him with hate. Their part, which
is here expressed, of wondering, breaks out
in reviling ; they speak evil of you ; and
what is their voice ? " What mean these
precise fools 9" will they readily say.
'• What course is this they take, contrary to
all the world ? Will they make a new re-
ligion, and condemn all their honest civil
neighbours that are not like them ? Ay,
* Inccntinentes vene voluptatis ignari ARIST.
A COMMENTARY UPON
ICHAP. iv
forsooth, do all go to hell, think you, except
you, and those that follow your way ? We
are for no more than good-fellowship and
liberty; and as for so much reading and
praying, these are but brain-sick melancholy
conceits ; a man may go to heaven like his
neighbour, without all this ado." Thus
they let fly at their pleasure : But this
troubles not the composed Christian's mind
at all ; while curs snarl and bark about him,
the sober traveller goes on his way, and re-
gards them not. He that is acquainted with
the way of holiness, can endure more than
the counter-blasts and airs of scoffs and re-
vilings ; he accounts them his glory and his
riches : So Moses esteemed the reproach
of Christ greater riches than the treasures
in Egypt. And besides many other things
to animate, we have this that is here ex-
pressed,
Sdly, As the supreme and final judgment ;
and Oh ! how full is it ; they shall give ac-
count to him that is ready to judge the quick
and the dead. And he hath this in readi-
ness, TU '.'ri'ifj.ui l^atTi, hath the day set ;
and it shall surely come, though you think
it far off.
Though the wicked themselves forget
their scoffs against the godly, and though
the Christian slights them, and lets them
pass, they pass not so ; they are all register-
ed ; and the great court-day shall call them
to account for all these riots and excesses,
and withal for all their reproaches of the
godly, that would not run with them in these
:Ways. Tremble, then, ye despisers and
mockers of holiness, though you come not
near it. What will you do when those you
reviled shall appear glorious in your sight,
and their King, the King of saints here,
much more glorious, and his glory their
joy, and all terror to you ? Oh ! then, all
faces that could look out disdainfully upon
religion, and the professors of it, shall gather
blackness, and be bathed with shame ; and the
despised saints of God shall shout so much
the more for joy,
You that would rejoice, then, in the ap-
pearance of that holy Lord and judge of the
world, let your way be now in holiness ;
avoid and hate the common ways of the
wicked world : They live in their foolish
opinion, and that shall quickly end : but
the sentence of that day shall stand for ever-
VKR. 6. For, for this cause was the gospel preach-
ed also to them that are dead, that they might be
judged according to men in the flesh, but live ac-
cording to God in the spirit
IT is a thing of prime concernment for a
Christian to be rightly informed, and fre-
quently put in mind, what is the true estate
and nature of a Christian ; for this the mul-
titude of those that bear that name, either
know not, or commonly forget, and so are
carried away with the vain fancies and mis-
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
24fi
takes of the world. The Apostle hath cha- divine things enlarged ; mote hatred of sin,
racterised Christianity very clearly to us in 'and more love of God and communion with
this place, by that which is the very nature him."
of it, conformity with Christ, and that which Ask yourselves concerning former times ;
is necessarily consequent upon that, discon- and to take yourselves even now, inquire with.
formity icith the world. And as the nature iin, " Why came I hither this day ? what
and natural properties of things hold univer- I had I in mine eye and desires this morning
sally ; thus it is in those that, in all ages, are
go effectually called by the gospel, as t;> be
moulded and framed thus by it. Thus it
was, says the Apostle, with your brethren
that are now at rest, as many as received the
ere I came forth, and in my way as I was
coming ? Did I seriously propound an end
or no, and what was my end ? Nor doth the
mere custom of mentioning this in prayer
satisfy the question ; for this, as other such
gospel ; and for this end was it preached to j things usually do in our hand, may turn to
them, that they might be judged according jbe a lifeless form, and have no heat of spiri-
to men in the flesh, but live according to tual affection ; none of David's panting and
God in the spirit.
We have here, 1. the preaching of the
gospel as the suitable means to a certain end.
2. The express nature of that end.
1 . The preaching of the gospel as a suita-
ble means to a certain end ; for this cause.
There is a particular end, and that very im-
portant, for which the preaching of the gos-
pel is intended ; this end many consider not,
hearing it as it were tonoenl, ornot propound-
ing a fixed determined end in their hearing.
This therefore is to be considered by those that
preach this gospel, that they aim right in it at
this end, and no other. There must be no self-
end. The legal priests were not to be squint-
eyed, Lev. xxi. 20, nor must evangelical mi-
nisters be thus squinting to base gain, or vain
applause : And also it is necessarily incum-
bent upon them, that they make it their study
to find in themselves this work, this living
to God, otherwise, they cannot skilfully nor
faithfully apply their gifts to work this effect
on their hearers ; and therefore acquaintance
with God is most necessary.
How sounds it to many of us, at the least,
but as a well-contrived story, whose use is to
amuse us, and possibly delight us a little,
and there is an end ; and indeed no end, for
this turns the most serious and most glorious
of all messages into an empty sound. If we
keep awake, and give it a hearing, it is much ;
but far any thing further, how few deeply be-
( fore-hand consider, " I have a dead heart ;
therefore will I go unto the word of life, that
it may be quickened : It is frozen, I will
go and lay it before the warm beams of that
Sun that shines in the gospel ; my corrup-
breathing after God in his ordinances ; such
desires as will not be stilled without a mea-
sure of attainment, as a child's desire of the
breast ; as our Apostle resembles it, chap.
And then again, being returned home, re-
flect on your hearts, " Much hath been heard,
but is there any thing done by it ? Have I
gained my point ? It was not simply to pass
a little time that I went, or to pass it with de-
light in hearing ; rejoicing in that light, as
they did in St. John Baptist's, John v. 3"»,
for a season, [*•{« »£«%,] as long as the
hour lasts ! It was not to have my ear pleas-
ed, but my heart changed ; not to leam some
new notions, and carry them cold in my head,
but to be quickened, and purified, and re-
newed in the spirit of my mind. Is this
done ? Think I now with greater esteem of
Christ, and the life of faith, and the happi-
ness of a Christian ? And are such thoughts
solid and abiding with me ? What sin have
I left behind ? What grace of ihe Spirit
have I brought home ; or what new degree,
or at least new desire of it, a living desire,
that will follow its point ?" Oh ! this were
good repetition.
It is a strange folly in multitudes of us to
set ourselves no mark, to propound no end in
the hearing of the gospel. The merchant
sails not only that he may sail, but for traffic,
and traffics that he may be rich. The hus-
bandman ploughs not only to keep himself
busy with no further end, but ploughs that
he may sow, and sows that he may reap with
advantage : And shall we do the most ex-
cellent and fruitful work fruitlessly ? hear
tions are mighty and strong, and grace, if only to hear, and look no further ? This is
there be any in my heart, is exceeding weak ; indeed a great vanity, and a great misery. »o
but there is in the gospel a power to weaken lose that labour, and gain nothing by it, which,
and kill sin, and to strengthen grace : and I duly used, would be of all others most advan-
this being the intent of my wise God in ap- tageous and gainful ; and yet all meetings
[pointing it, it shall be my desire and pur-
. pose, in resorting to it, to find it to me ac-
I cording to his gracious intendment ; to have
are full of this.
Now, when you come, this is not simply
to hear a discourse, and relish OT dislike it in
(aith in my Christ, the fountain of my life, hearing ; but a matter of life and death, of
more strengthened, and made more active in eternal death and eternal life ; and the spi-
i drawing from him ; to have my heart more ritual life, begot and nourished by the word,
I refined and spiritualized, and to have thesluice is the beginning of that eternal life. M'hich
I of repentance opened, and my affections to pleads us to consider,
244
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. iv.
others heard it before u;
2. The express nature of the end, that they ness of the gospel ;
miuht live to God in the Spirit : But first in these places that now we fill, and now the)
observe it was to them that are dead. By , are removed and we must remove shortly, and
which I conceive, he intends such as had leave our places to others, to speak and heal
heard and believed the gospel, when it came
to them, and now were dead. And this, I
think, he doth to strengthen these brethren
to whom he writes, to commend the gospel
to this intent, that they might not think the
condition and end of it hard ; as our Saviour
mollified the matter of outward sufferings
thus, So persecuted they the Prophets that
were before you, Matt. v. 12. And the
Apostle afterwards in this chapter uses the
same reason in that same subject : So here,
that they might not judge the point of mor-
tification he presses so grievous, as naturally
men will do, he tells them, it is the constant
end of the gospel ; and they that have been
saved by it, went that same way he points
out to them. They that are dead before you,
died this way that I press on you, before they
died ; and the gospel was preached to them
for that very end.
Men pass away and others succeed, but
the gospel is still the same, hath the same
tenor and substance, and the same ends. As
Solomon speaks of the heavens and ear;h, that
remain the same, while one generation
passes, and another cometh, Eccl. i. 4 ; the
.gospel surpasses both in its stability, as our
Saviour testifies, Matt. v. 18, they shall pass
away, but not one jot of this word. And
indeed they wear and wax old, as the Apos-
tle teaches us ; but the gospel is from one
age to another, of most unalterable integrity,
hath still the same vigour and powerful in-
. fluence as at the first.
They that formerly received the gospel, re-
ceived it upon these terms ; therefore, think
ii not hard : And they are now dead ; all
the difficulty of that work of dying to sin is
now over with them ; if they had not died
to their sins by the gospel, they had died in
them, after a while, and so died eternally.
It is therefore a wise prevention, to have sin
judged and put to death in us before we die ;
if we will not part with sin, if we die in it,
and with it, we and our sin perish together ;
but if it die first before us, then we live for
.ever.
And what thinkest thou of thy carnal will
and all the delights of sin ? What is the
longest term of its life ? Uncertain it is
but most certainly very short : Thou and
these pleasures must be severed and parted
within a little time ; however, thou must die
and then they die, and you never meet again'
Now, were it not the wisest course to part a
JUtle sooner with them, and let them die be-
fore thee, that thou mayest inherit eternal
hfe, and eternal delights in it, pleasures for
evermore 9 It is the only wise and profita-
bleibargam, let us therefore delay it no longer
This is our season of enjoying the sweel
in. It is high time we were considering
what we do here ; to what end we speak and
hear ; high time, without further delay, tt
lay hold on that salvation that is held forth
unto us ; and that we may hold on it, we
must immediately let go our held of sin, and
those perishing things that we hold so fun;
and cleave so fast to. Do they that are dead,
who heard and obeyed the gospel, now repeni
their repentance and mortifying the Mesh !
Or, do they not think ten thousand times
more pains, were it for many ages, all to:
little for a moment of that which now the}
enjoy, and shall enjoy to eternity '( And
they that are dead, who heard the gospel
and slighted it, if such a thing might be.
what would they give for one of these oppor-
tunities that now we daily have, and daily
lose, and have no fruit or esteem of them !
You have lately seen, many of you, and you
that shifted the sight, have heard of number-
cut off in a little time ; whole families swepl
away by the late stroke of God's hand, *
many of which did think no other but thai
they might have still been with you here in
this place and exercise, at this time, and
many years after this. And yet, who hath
laid to heart the lengthening out of his day,
and considered it more as an opportunity of
securing that higher and happier life, than
as a little protracting of this wretched life,
which is hastening to an end ? Oh ! there-
fore, be entreated to-day, while it is called
To-day, not to harden your hearts, Psal.
xcv. 7, 8 ; Heb. iii. 7 ; iv. 7- Though the
pestilence doth not now affright you so, yet
that standing mortality, and the decay of
these earthen lodges, tell us that shortly we
shall cease to preach and hear this gosp:l.
Did we consider, it would excite us to a more
earnest search after our evidences of that eter-
nal life that is set before us in the gospel ;
and we should seek them in the characters
of that spiritual life, which is the beginning
of eternal life within us, and is wrought by
the gospel in all the heirs of salvation.
Think therefore wisely of these two things,
approaching end of thy days, and let thy cer.
tainty of this latter drive thee to seek more
certainty of the other, that thou mayest par.
take of it ; and then this again will make the
thoughts of the other sweet to thee. That
visage of death, that is so terrible to unchang-
ed sinners, shall be amiable to thine eye ;
having found a life in the gospel as happy
and lasting as this is miserable and vanish-
ing, and seeing the perfection of that life on
the other side of death, thou wilt long for
;he passage.
VER. C.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
245
Be more serious in this matter, of daily | nial, must be separated from himself, which
hearing the gospel : consider why it is sent is to die, if he will be joined with Christ
to thee, and what it brings, and think it is and live in him. Thus men judge that they
too long I have slighted »its message, and are adjudged to a painful death by the sen-
muny that have done so are cut off, and shall ', tence of the gospel ; although it is that they
hear it no more : I have it once more invit- may truly and happily live, yet they under-
ing me, and it may be this may be the last stand it not so. They see the death, the
invitation I shall receive : and in these j parting with sin and all its pleasures ; but
the life they see not, nor can any know it
till they partake of it. It is known to Him
thoughts, ere you come, bow your knee to the
Father of-spirits, that this one thing may be
granted you, that your souls may find at
length the lively and mighty power of his
Spirit upon yours, in the hearing of this gos-
pel, that you may be judged according to
men in the flesh, but live according to God
in the spirit.
Thus is the particular nature of that end
expressed. And, not to stun and perplex
you with the noise of various senses, the
Apostle intends, I conceive, nothing else but
the dying to the world and sin, and living
unto God ; which is his main subject and
scope in the foregoing discourse. That death
was before called a suffering in the flesh,
which is in effect the same ; and therefore,
though the words may be drawn another
way, yet it is strange that interpreters have
bean so far wide of this their genuine and
agreeable sense, and that they have been by
almost all of them taken in some other intend-
ment.
To be judy ed in the flesh, in the present
sense, is to die to sin, or that sin die in us ;
anil it is thus expressed : 1. Suitably to the
nature of it, it is to the flesh a violent death,
and it is according to a sentence judicially
pronounced against it. That guilty and
miserable life of sin is in the gosp?! ad-
judged to death ; there that arrest and sen-
tence is clear and full, Rom. vi. 6, &c. viii.
13. That sin must die that the soul may
live ; it must be crucified in us, and we to
' it, that we may partake of the life of Christ
and happiness in him : And this is called
to be judged in the flesh, to have this sen-
tence executed. 2. The thing is the rather
spoke here under the term of being judged,
in counter-balance of that judgment mention-
ed immediately before, ver. 5, the last judg-
ment of quick and dead ; wherein they that
would not be thus judged, but mocked and
despised those that were, shall fall under a far
a more terrible judgment, and the sentence of
a heavy death indeed, even everlasting death ;
though they think they shall escape and en-
joy liberty in living in sin. And that, to be
jiiiyed according to men, is, I conceive,
added, to signify the connaturalness of the
lifi of sin to a man's now corrupt nature ;
that men do judge it a death indeed to be
severed and pulled from their sins, and that
a cruel death ; and the sentence of it in the
gospel a heavy sentence, a hard saying, to
a carnal heart, that he must give up all his
tinful delights, must die indeed in self.de-
in whom it is ; It is hid with Christ in
God, Col. iii. 3 ; and therefore the opposi-
tion here is very fitly thus represented, that
the death is according to men in the flesh,
but the life is according to God in the spirit.
As the Christian is adjudged to this death
in the flesh by the gospel, so he is looked
on and accounted, by carnal men, as dead ;
for that he enjoys not with them what they
esteem their life, and think they could not
live without it. One that cannot carouse
and swear with profane men, is a silly dead
creature, good for nothing ; and he that can
bear wrongs, and love him that injured him,
is a poor spiritless fool, hath no mettle noi
life in him, in the world's account. Thus
is he judged according to men in the flesh,
he is as a dead man, but lives according to
God in the spirit ; dead to men, and alive
to God, as ver. 2.
Now, if this life be in thee, it will act :
All life is in motion, and is called an act
but most active of all is this most excellent,
and, as 1 may call it, most lively, life. It
will be moving towards God ; often seeking
to him, making still towards him as its
principle and fountain, exerting itself in holy
and affectionate thoughts of him ; sometimes,
on one of his sweet attributes, sometimes on
another ; as the bee amongst the flowers.
And as it will thus act within, so it will be-
outwardly laying hold on all occasions, yea,
seeking out ways and opportunities to be
serviceable to thy Lord ; employing all for
him, commending and extolling his good,
ness, doing and suffering cheerfully for him,
laying out the strength of desires, and parts,
and means, in thy station, to gain him
glory. If thou be alone, then not alone,
but with him ; seeking to know more of
him, and be made more like him. If in
company, then casting about how to bring
his name in esteem, and to draw others to a
love of religion and holiness by speeches, as
it may be fit, and ruost by the true beha.
viour of thy carriage. Tender over the souls
of others, to do them good to thy utmost ;
thinking each day and hour lost when thou
art not busy for the honour and advantage
of him to whom thou now livest. Thinking
in the morning, " Now, what may I do this
day for my God ? How may I most please
and glorify him, and use my strength and
wit, and mv whole self, as not mine but
his ?" And then in the evening, reflecting,
246
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP, iv
« O Lord, have I seconded these thoughts
in reality ? What glory hath he had by me
this day ? Whither went my thoughts and
endeavours? What busied them most?
Have I been much with God ? Have I
adorned the gospel in my converse with
others ?" And if thou findest any thing
done this way, this life will engage thee to
bless and acknowledge him, the spring and
worker of it. If any step has been taken
aside, were it but to an appearance of
evil, or if any fit season of good hath escap-
ed thee unprofitably, it will lead thee to
check thyself, and to be grieved for thy sloth
and coldness, and see if more love would
not beget more diligence.
Try it by sympathy and antipathy, which
follow the nature of things ; as we see in
some plants, and creatures, that cannot
grow, cannot agree together, and others that
do favour one another, and profit mutually.
If thy soul hath an aversion and reluctancy
against whatever is contrary to holiness, this
is an evidence of this new nature and life.
If thou hast this principle within, thy heart
rises against wicked ways and speeches, oaths
and cursings, and rotten communication ;
yea, thou canst not endure unworthy dis-
courses, wherein most spend their time :
findest no relish in the unsavoury societies
of such as know not God; canst not sit
with vain persons, but findest a delight in
those that have the image of God upon
them ; such as partake of that divine life,
and carry the evidences of it in their car-
riage. David did not disdain the fellow-
ship of the saints ; and that it was no dis-
paragement to him, is implied in the name
he gives them, Psal. xvi. 2, the excellent
ones, the magnific or noble, adiri { and that
word is taken from one that signifies a robe
or noble garment, adereth, toga magnifica ;
so he thought them nobles or kings as well
as he ; they had robes royal, and therefore
were fit companions of kings. A spiritual
eye looks upon spiritual dignity, and esteems
and loves them that are born of God, how
low soever be their natural birth and breed-
ing. The sons of God have of his Spirit in
them, and are bom to the same inheritance,
where all shall have enough ; and they are
tending homewards by the conduct of the
same Spirit that is in them, so that there
must be amongst them a real complacency
and delight in each other.
And then consider the temper of thy
heart towards spiritual things, the word and
ordinances of God, whether thou dost es-
teem highly of them and delight in them ?
Whether there be compliance of thy heart
With divine truths ? something in thee that
suits and sides with them against thy corrup-
tions ? In thy affliction dost thou not seek
to the puddles of earthly comforts, but hast
tfou recourse to the sweet crystal streams of
the divine promises, and dost thou find re-
freshment in them ? It may be, at some
times, in a spiritual distemper, holy exer-
cises and ordinances will not have that pre-
sent sensible sweetness to a Christian, that
he desires ; and some will for a long time
lie under dryness and deadness this way;
yet there is here an evidence of this spiritual
life, that thou stayest by thy Lord and re-
liest on him ; and wilt not leave these holy
means, how sapless soever to thy sense for
the present. Thou findest for a long time
little sweetness in prayer, yet thou prayest
still ; and when thou canst say nothing, yet
offerest at it, and lookest towards Christ thy
life. Thou dost not turn away from these
things to seek consolation elsewhere, but as
thou knowest that life is in Christ, thou wilt
stay till he refresh thee with new and lively
influence. It is not auy where but in him, as
St. Peter said, Lord, whither should we go ?
thou hast the words of eternal life, John
vi. 68.
Consider with thyself, if thou hast any
knowledge of the growth or deficiencies of
this spiritual life ? for it is here but begun,
and breathes in an air contrary to it, and
lodges in an house that often smokes and
darkens it. Canst thou go on in formal
performances from one year to another, and
make no advancement in the inward exer-
cises of grace, and restest thou content with
that ? it is no good sign. But art thou
either gaining victories over sin, and further
strength of faith and love, and other graces,
or, at least, art thou earnestly seeking these,
and bewailing thy wants and disappoint-
ments of this kind ? Then thou livest. At
the worst wouldst thou rather grow this
way, be further off from sin, and nearer
God, than grow in thy estate, or credit, or
honours ? Esteemest thou more of grace
than of the whole world ? There is life at
the root ; although thou findest not that
flourishing thou desirest, yet the desire of it
is life in thee : And, if growing this way,
art thou content, whatsoever is thy outward
estate ? Canst thou solace thyself in the
love and goodness of thy God, though the
world frown on thee ? Art thou not able to
take comfort in the smiles of the world when
his face is hid ? This tells thee thou livest,
and he is thy life.
Although many Christians have not so
much sensible joy, yet they account spiri-
tual joy, and the light of God's countenance,
the only true joy, and all other without it
madness ; and they cry, and sigh, and at
tend for it. Meanwhile, not only duty
the hopes of attaining a better state in reli-
gion, but even love to God, makes them to
be so, to serve, and please, and glorify hir
to their utmost. And this is not a dea
resting without God, but it is a stable cor
pliance with his will in the highest point j
VER. 7-]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
waiting for him, and living by faith, which
is most acceptable to him. In a word,
whether in sensible comfort or without it,
still this is the fixed thought of a believing
soul, it is good for me to draw nigh to God,
Psal. Ixxiii. 28, only good ; and it will not
live in a willing e.strangedness from him,
what way soever he be pleased to deal with it.
Now for the entertaining and strengthen-
ing this life, which is the great business and
care of all that have it, 1. Beware of omit-
ting and interrupting those spiritual means
that do provide it and nourish it. Little
neglects of that kind will draw on greater,
and great neglects will make great abate-
ments of vigour and liveliness. Take heed
of using holy things coldly and lazily, with-
out affection; that will make them fruitless,
and our life will not be advantaged by them,
unless they be used in a lively way. Be
active in all good within thy reach ; as this
is a sign of the spiritual life, so it is a helper
and friend to it. A slothful unstirring life,
will make a sickly unhealthful life. Motion
purities and sharpens the spirits, and makes
men robust and vigorous.
2. Beware of admitting a correspondence
with any sin : yea, do not so much as dis-
course familiarly with it, or look kindly toward
it; for that will undoubtedly cast a damp upon
thy spirit, and diminish thy graces at least,
and will obstruct thy communion with God.
Thou knowest (thou who hast any know-
ledge of this life) that thou canst not go to
him with that sweet freedom thou wert wont,
after thou hast -been but tampering or parly-
ing with any of thy old loves. Oh ! do not
make so foolish a bargain, as to prejudice
the least of thy spiritual comfort for the
greatest and longest continued enjoyments
of sin, which are base and but for a season.
But wouldst thou grow upwards in this
life ? 3. Have much .recourse to Jesus
Christ thy Head, the spring from whom flow
the animal spirits that quicken thy soul.
Wouldst thou know more of God ? He it
is 'hat reveals the Father, and reveals him
as his Father ; and in him thy Father, and
that is the sweet notion of God. Wouldst
thou overcome thy lusts further ? Our vic-
tory is in him, apply his conquest ; We are
more than conquerors through him that
loved us, Rom. viii. 37. Wouldst thou be
more replenished with graces, and spiritual
affections ? His fulness is, for that use, open
to us ; life, and more life, in him, and for
us ; this was his business here ; he came,
thai we might have life, and might have it
more abundantly, John x. 10.
VKR. 7- But the end of all things is at hand : be ye,
then fore, sober, and watch unto prayer.
THE heart of a real Christian is really
taken off from the world and set heavenwards;
yet there is still in this flesh, so much of the
flesh hanging to it, as will readily poise all
downwards, unless it be often wound up and
put in remembrance of these things, that
will raise it still to further spirituality. This
the Apostle doth in this epistle, and parti,
cularly in these words.
In which are three things to be considered,
I. A threefold duty recommended. II. Their
mutual relation, that binds them to one an-
other. III. The reason here used to bind
them upon a Christian.
I. A threefold duty recommended, so-
briety, watchfulness, and prayer ; and of the
three the last is evidently the chief, and is
here so meant, the other being recommend,
ed as suitable and subservient to it : There,
fore I shall speak first of it.
1. Prayer. And truly, to speak, and
to hear of it often, were our hearts truly and
entirely acquainted with it, would have still
new sweetness and usefulness in it Oh I
how great were the advantage of that lively
knowledge of it, beyond the exactest definj.
tion of it, and knowledge that can discourse
most copiously and accurately on the heads
».f doctrine that concern it.
Prayer is not a smooth expression, or a
well contrived form of words ; not the pro-
duct of a ready memory, nor rich invention,
exerting itself in the performance. These
may draw a neat picture of it, but still the
life is wanting. The motion of the heart
Godwards, holy and divine affection, makes
prayer real and lively, and acceptable to the
living God, to whom it is presented ; the
pouring out of thy heart to him that made
it, and therefore hears it, and understands
what it speaks, and how it is moved and
affected in calling on him. It is not the
gilded paper, and good writing of a petition,
that prevails with a king, but the moving
sense of it ; and to the King that discerns
the heart, heart sense is the sense of all, and
that which he alone regards ; he listens to
hear what that speaks, and takes all as no.
thing where that is silent. All other excellence
in prayer is but the outside and fashion of it ;
that is the life of it.
Though prayer, precisely taken, is only
petition, yet, in its fuller and usual sense,
it comprehends the venting our humble sense
of vileness and sin, in sincere confession, and
the extolling and praising the holy name of
our God, his excellency and goodness, with
thankful acknowledgment of received mercies.
Of these sweet ingredient perfumes is the
incense of prayer composed, and by the
divine fire of love it ascends unto God ; the
heait, and all with it : And when the hearts
of the saints unite in joint prayer, the pillar
of sweet smoke goes up the greater and fuller.
Thus says that song of the spouse, going up
from the wilderness, as pillars of smoke
perfumed with myrrh and frankincense,
and all the powder* of the merchant, Cant,
248
A COMMENTARY UPON
I CHAP. IV.
straight pillar, when there is no crookedness
in it, but it is tending straight towards hea-
ven, and bowing to no side by the way.
Oh ! the single and fixed viewing of God,
as it, in other ways, is the thing makes all
holy and sweet, so particularly does it in this
divine work of prayer.
It is tiue we have to deal with a God,
who of himself needs not this our pains either
to inform or excite him ; he fully knows our
thoughts before we express them, and our
wants before we feel them, or think of them.
Nor doth his affection, and gracious bent to
do his children good, wax remiss, or admit
the least abatement and forgetfulness of them.
But instead of necessity on God's part,
which cannot be imagined, we shall find that
equity, and that singular dignity and utility
of it, on our part, which cannot be denied.
1. Equity. That thus the creature signify
his homage to. and dependence on, his
Creator, for his being, and well-being ; that
he takes all the good he enjoys, or expects,
from that sovereign good, declaring himself
unworthy, waiting for all upon the terms of
free goodness, and acknowledging all to flow
from that spring.
2. Dignity. Man was made for commu-
nion with God his maker ; it is the excellency
of his nature to be capable of this end, the
happiness of it to be raised to enjoy it. Now,
in nothing more, in this life, is this com-
munion actually and highly enjoyed, than in
the exercise of prayer. That he may freely
impart his affairs, and estate, and wants, to
God, as the most faithful and powerful
Friend, the richest and most loving Father ;
may use the liberty of a child, telling his
father what he stands in need of and desires ;
and communing with him with humble con-
fidence, while admitted so frequently into the
presence of so great a King.
3. The utility of it. [1.] Easing the
soul in times of difficulty, when it is pressed
with griefs and fears, by giving them vent,
and that in so advantageous a way ; empty.
ing them into the bosom of God. The very
vent, were it but into the air, gives ease : or
speak it to a statue rather than smother it ;
much more ease then is found, when it is
poured into the lap of a confident and sym-
pathizing friend, though unable to help ; yet
the surest, and most affectionate, and most
powerful. So, Isa. Ixiii. 9, both compassion
and effectual salvation are expressed, In all
their affliction he was afflicted, and the
angel of hit presence saved them : in his
lave, and in his pity he redeemed them ; and he
* Timeroth, from Temer, a palm-tree.
to seek him, and that he despiseth not the
sighing of the poor, Psal. xii. 5.
[2.] The soul is more spiritually affected
with its own condition, by laying it open be-
fore the Lord ; more deeply sensible of sin,
and ashamed in his sight, in confessing it
before him ; riiore dilated and enlarged to
receive the mercies sued for ; as the opening
wide of the mouth of the soul that it may be
filled, Psal. Ixxxi. 10 ; more disposed to
observe the Lord in answering ; and to bless
him, and trust on him, upon the renewed
experiences of his regard to his distresses
and desires.
[3.] All the graces of the Spirit, in prayer,
are stirred and exercised ; and by exercisa
strengthened and increased. Faith, in ap-
plying the divine promises, which are the
very ground that the soul goes upon to God ;
and Hope looking out to their performance ;
and Love particularly expressing itself, in
that sweet converse, and delighting in it, as
love doth in the company of the person loved ;
thinks all hours too short in speaking with
him : Oh ! how the soul is refreshed with
freedom of speech with its beloved Lord !
And as it delights in that, so it is continually
advanced, and grows by each meeting and
conference ; beholding the excellency of God,
and relishing the pure and sublime pleasures
that are in near communion with him. 1.
Looking upon the Father in the face of
Christ, and using him as a mediator in
prayer, as still it must, it is drawn to further
admiration of that bottomless love, which
found that way of agreement, that new and
living way of our access, when all was shut
up, and we to have been shut out for ever.
And then the affectionate expressions of that
reflex love, finding that vent in prayer, do
kindle higher ; and being as it were fanned
and blown up, rise to a greater, and higher,
and purer flame, and so tend upwards the
more strongly. David, as he doth profess
his love to God in prayer in his Psalms, so
no doubt it grew in the expressing, / will
love thee, O Lord my strength, Psal. xviii.
1, and Psal. cxvi. 1, doth raise an incentive
of love out of this very consideration of the
correspondence of prayers ; / love the Lord
because he hath heard, and resolves, there-
after, upon persistance in that course ; there-
~ . ' J J **)J\Jll LH. loiOLilll^C 111 lUAb l^UUIOt 9 H«G-f t —
much more of one that can help. An , of fore will 1 call upon him as long as I live.
alltnends, our God is beyond all comparison And as the graces of the Spirit are advanced
in prayer by their actings ; so for this further
reason, because prayer sets the soul parti-
cularly near unto God in Jesus Christ. It
is then in his presence, and being much with
God in this way, it is powerfully assimilated
to him oy converse with him ; as we readily
contract their habits with whom we have
VER. 7-J
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
much intercourse, especially if they be such
as we singularly love and respect. Thus the
soul is moulded further to the likeness of
God, is stamped with brighter characters of
him, by being much with him ; becomes
liker God, more holy and spiritual, and, like
Moses, brings back a right shining from the
mount, Exod. xxxiv. 29, 30.
[4.] And not only thus, by a natural in-
fluence, doth prayer work this advantage,
but even by d federal efficacy, su-ng for, and
upon suit obtaining, supplies of grace, as
the chief good ; and besides all other need-
ful mercies, it is a real means of receiving ;
Whatsoever you shall ask, that will I do,
says our Saviour, John xiv. 13; God hav
ing established this intercourse, and engaged
his truth and goodness in it, that if they call
on hi-.n, they shall be heard and answered,
if they prepare the heart to call, he will in-
cline his ear to hear ; and our Saviour hath
assured us, that we may build upon his
goodness and the affection of a Father in
him ; that he will give good things to them
that ask, says one Evangelist, Matth. vii. 11 ;
and the Holy Spirit to them that ask it,
says another, Luke xi. 13, as being the good
indeed, the highest of gifts, and the sum of all
good things, and that for which his children
are most earnest supplicants. ^ Prayer for
grace doth, as it were, set the mouth of the
•oul to the spring, draws from Jesus Christ,
and is replenished out of his fulness, thirst-
ing after it, and drawing from it that way.
And for this reason it is, that our Saviour,
and from him, and according to his example,
the Apostles, recommend prayer so much;
Watch and pray, says our Saviour, Matt,
xxvi. 41 ; and St. Paul, Pray continually,
\ Thess. v. 17. And our Apostle here par-
ticularly specifies this, as the grand mean of
attaining that conformity with Christ which
he presses ; this is the highway to it, Be
sober, and watch unto prayer. He that is
mucli in prayer, shall grow rich in grace.
He shall thrive and increase most that is
busiest in this, which is our very traffic with
heaven, and fetches the most precious com-
modities thence. He that sets oftenest out
these ships of desire, that makes the most
voyages to that land of spices and pearls,
shall be sure to improve his stock most, and
have most of heaven upon earth.
But the true art of this trading is very
rare. Every trade hath something wherein
the skill of it lies ; but this is deep and
supernatural, is not reached by human in-
dustry. Industry is to be used in it, but we
must know the faculty of it comes from above ;
that Spirit of prayer, without which, learn,
ing, and wit, and religious breeding, can do
nothing : Therefore, this is to be our prayer
often, our great suit for the Spirit of prayer,
that we may speak the language of the sons
of God by the Spirit of God, which alone
249
teaches the heart to pronounce aright those
things, that the tongue of many hypocrites
can articulate well to man's ear ; and only
the children in that right strain that takes
him, call God their Father, and cry unto
him as their Father. And therefore many
poor unlettered Christians far outstrip your
school-rabbles in this faculty, because it ia
not effectually taught in these lower acade-
mies ; they must be in God's own school,
children of his house, that speak this lan-
guage. Men may give spiritual rules and
directions in this, and such as may be useful,
drawn from the word, that furnishes us with
all needful precepts ; but you are still to
bring these into the seat of this faculty of
prayer, the heart ; and stamp them upon it,
and so teach it to pray, without which there
is no prayer; this is the prerogative royal
of Him that framed the heart of man within
him.
But, for advancing in this, and grow-
ing more skilful in it, prayer is, with con-
tinual dependence on the Spirit, to be much
used. Praying much, thou shalt be blest
with much faculty for it. So then askest
thou, what shall I do that I may learn to
pray ? There be things here to be consider,
ed, that are expressed as serving this end ;
but for present this, and chiefly this, " by
praying thou shalt learn to pray." Thou
shalt both obtain more of the Spirit, and find
more the cheerful working of it in prayer,
when thou puttest it often to that work for
which it is received, and wherein it is delight-
ed ; and as both advantaging all graces,
and the grace of prayer itself, this frequency
and abounding in prayer is here very clearly
intended, in that the Apostle makes it as
the main of cur work, and would have us to
keep our hearts in a constant aptness for it :
Be sober and watch ; to what end ? — unto
prayer.
2. Sobriety is recommended ; Be sober.
They that have no better, must make the
best they can of carnal delights. It is no
wonder they take as large a share of them as
they can bear, and sometimes more. But
the Christian is called to a more excellent
state, and higher pleasures ; so that he may
behold men glutting themselves with these
base things, and be as little moved to share
with them, as men are taken with the
pleasure a swine hath in tcalloicina in the
mire, 2 Pet. ii. 22.
It becomes the heirs of heaven to be far
above the love of the earth ; and in the neces-
sary use of any earthly things, still to keep
within the due measure of their use, and to
keep their heart wholly disengaged from an
excessive affection to them. This is the so-
briety to which we are here exhorted.
It is true, that, in the most common sense
of the word, it is very commendable, and it
is fit to be so considered by a Christian, that
2CO
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP, iv
fly gross intemperance, as a thing most may carry the least suspicion of danger ?
contrary to his condition, and holy calling, i Should he not be distrustful and jealous of
and wholly inconsistent with the spiritual tern- all the motions of his own heart, and the
per of a renewed mind, and those exercises wnilings of the world ? And in relation to
ne
contrary
to which it is called, and its progress in its
way homewards. It is a most unseemly
night to behold one, simply by outward pro-
fession a Christian, overtaken with surfeit-
tuff and drunkennes*, much more to be given
to the vile custom rf i' : All sensual delights,
even the filthy lu»is of uncleanness, go under
the common namr of insobriety, intempe-
rance, **•>«<"«, and they all degrade and
destroy the noble soul ; are unworthy of man,
these, it will be a wise course to take that
word a* a good caveat, Be watchful, and re-
member to mistrust.* Under the garment
of some harmless pleasure, or some lawful
liberties, may be conveyed into thy soul some
thief or traitor, that will either betray thee
to the enemy, or at least pilfer and steal of
the most precious things thou hast. Do we
not by experience find how easily our fool-
ish hearts are seduced and deceived, and
much more of a Christian ; and the contempt j how apt they are even to deceive themselves ?
of them preserves the soul and elevates it,
But the sobriety here recommended,
though it takes in that too, yet reaches fur-
th.r than temperance in meat and drink. It
is the spiritual temperance of a Christian
mind in all earthly tilings, as our Saviour
joins these together, Luke xxi. 34, surfeit-
ing and drunkenness, and cares of this
life : And under the cares are comprehend-
all the excessive desires and delights of this
life ; which cannot be followed and attend-
ed without distempered carefulness.
Many that are sober men, and of tempe-
rate diet, yet are spiritually intemperate,
drunk with pride, or covetousness, or passion;
drunk with self-love, and love of their plea-
sures and ease, with love of the world, and
the things of it, which cannot consist with
the love of God, as St. John tells us, 1
John ii. 15 ; drunk with the inordinate un.
lawful love even of their lawful calling, and
the lawful gain they pursue by it. Their
hearts are still going after it, and so reeling
to and fro, never fixed on God and heavenly
things, but either hurried up and down with
incessant business, or, if sometimes at ease,
it is as the ease of a drunken man, not com-
posed to better and wiser thoughts, but fall-
ing into a dead sleep, contrary to the watch-
ing here joined with sobriety.
3. We are to consider the remaining duty
of watchfulness; Watch. There is a Chris-
tian rule to be observed in the very mode-
rating of bodily sleep, and that particularly
for the interest of prayer ; but watching, as
sobriety here, is chiefly the spiritual circum-
spectness and vigilancy of the mind, in a wary
walking posture, that it be not surprised
by the assaults or sleights of Satan, by the
world, or its nearest and most deceiving ene-
my, the corruption that dwells within, which
being so near, doth most readily watch un-
perceived advantages, and easily circum-
vents us, Heb. xii. 1. The soul of a Chris-
and by things that seem to have no evil in
them, yet are drawn from the height of affec-
tion to the highest good, and from commu-
nion with God, and study to please him ;
which should not be intermitted, for then it
will abate, whereas it ought still to be growing.
II. We proposed to consider the mutual
relation of these duties : Now, this relation
is clear ; they are each of them assistant and
helpful to the other, and, in their nature, in-
separably linked together, as they are here
in the words of the Apostle. Sobriety is the
friend of watchfulness, and prayer of both.
Intemperance doth of necessity draw on sleep:
exc3ssive eating or drinking, sending up too
many, and so gross, vapours, surcharge the
brain ; and when the body is thus deadened,
how unfit is it for any active employment ?
Thus the mind, by a surcharge of delights
or desires, or cares of earth, is made so heavy
and dull, that it cannot awake ; hath not the
spiritual activity and clearness that spiritual
exercises, particularly prayer, do require.
V'ea, as bodily insobriety, full feeding and
drinking, not only for the time indisposes to
action, but, by custom of it, brings the body
to so gross and heavy a temper, that the very
natural spirits cannot stir to and fro in it with
freedom, but are clogged, and stick as the
wheels of a coach in a deep miry way ; thus
it is with the soul glutted with earthly
things ; the affections bemired with them,
make it sluggish and inactive in those that
are spiritual, and render the motions of the
spirit lifeless ; and, obstructed thus, grows
carnally secure and sleepy, and prayer comes
heavily off. But when the affections are so.
berly acted, and care is taken that, even in
lawful things, they have not full liberty, with
the reins laid on their necks, to follow the
world, and carnal projects, and delight, to
the utmost, when the unavoidable affairs of
this life are done with a spiritual mind, a
heait kept free and disengaged ? then is the
tian being surrounded with enemies, both of s „ 1 more nimble for spiritual' things, for
so great power and wrath, and so watchful divine meditation and prayer. It can watch
to undo it, should it not be watchful for its
own safety, and live in a military vigilan-
cy continually, keeping constant watch and
sentinel, and suffering nothing to pass that
and continue in these things, and spend itself
in that excellent way with more alacrity.
VEK. 7-J
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
251
Again, as this sobriety, and the watchful | and continued and advanced in, a spiritual
temper attending it, enables for prayer, sojheavenly temper, free from the surfeits of earth,
prayer preserves these. It winds up the and awake, and active for heaven ? Be in.
soul from the earth, raises it above those
things which intemperance feeds on, ac-
quaints it with the transcending sweetness of
divine comforts, the love and loveliness of
Jesus Christ ; and these most powerfully
wean the soul from those low creeping plea-
sures which the world gapes after, and swal-
lows with such greediness. He that is ad-
mitted to nearest intimacy with the king, and
is called daily to his presence, not only in
the view and company cf others, but likewise
in secret, will he be so mad as to sit down
and drink with the kitchen-boys, or the com-
mon guards, so far below what he may enjoy ?
Surely not.
Prayer being our near communion with
the great God, certainly it sublimates the
soul, and makes it look down upon the base
ways of the world with disdain, and despise
the truly besotting pleasures of it. Yea, the
Lord doth sometimes fill those souls, that
converse much with him, with such beatific
delights, such inebriating sweetness, as I may
call it, that it is, in a happy manner, drunk
with those : And the more it enjoys of this,
the more is the soul above base intemperance
in the use of the delights of the world. As
common drunkenness makes a man less than
? man, this makes him more ; that sinks him
Delow himself, and makes him a beast ; this
raises him above himself, and makes him an
angel.
Would you, as sure you ought, have much
faculty for prayer, and be frequent in it, and
find much the pure sweetness of it ? Then,
1st, Deny yourselves more the muddy plea-
sures and sweetness of the world. If you
would pray much, and with much advantage,
then be sober, and ivatch unto prayer.
Suffer not your hearts to long so after ease
and wealth, and esteem in the world. These
will make your hearts, if they mix with them,
become like them, and take their quality ;
will make them gross and earthly, and un-
able to mount up ; will clog the wings of
prayer ; and you shall find the loss, when
your soul is heavy and drowsy, and falls off
from delighting in God, and your commu-
nion with him. Will such things as those
you follow be able to countervail your da-
cessant in prayer.
But, thou wilt say, I find nothing but
heavy indisposedness in it ; nothing but rov-
ing and vanity of heart : And so, though I'
have used it sometime, it is still unprofitable
and uncomfortable to me. Although it be
so, yet hold on, give it not over. Or, need
I say this to thee, though it were referred to
thyself, wouldst thou forsake it and leave off?
then, what wouldst thou do next ? for if
there be no comfort in it, far less any for thee
in any other way. If temptation should so
far prevail with thee as to try intermission,
either thou wouldst be forced to return to it
presently, or certainly wouldst fall into a
more grievous condition ; and, after horrors
and lashings, must, at length, come back to
it again, or perish for ever : Therefore, how-
ever it go, continue praying. Strive to be-
lieve that love thou canst not see. For where
sight is abridged, there it is proper for faith
to work. If thou canst do no more, lie be-
fore thy Lord, and look to him. " Lord,
here I am, thou mayest quicken and revive
me, if thou wilt : and I trust thou wilt ; but
if I must do it, I will die at thy feet ; my
life is in thy hand, and thou art goodness
and mercy ; while I have breath I will cry ;
at if I cannot cry, yet will I wait on, and
look to thee."
One thing forget not, that the ready way
to rise out of this sad, yet safe state, is to be
much in viewing the Mediator, and inter-
posing him betwixt the Father's view and
thy soul. Some who do orthodoxly believe
this to be right, yet (as often befals us in
other things of this kind) they do not so con-
sider and use it, in their necessity, as be-
comes them, and therefore fall short of com-
fort. He hath declared it, No man comes
to the Father but by me. How vile soever
thou art, put thyself under his robe, and into
his hand, and he will lead thee in to the
Father, and present thee acceptable and
blameless : the Father shall receive thee, and
declare himself well pleased with thee in his
well-beloved Son, who hath covered thee with
his righteousness, and brought thee so clothed,
and set thee before him.
III. The third thing we are to consider
mage ? Can they speak you peace, and up- is, the reason binding on these duties of so-
hold you in a day of darkness and distress ? briety, watchfulness and prayer, The end of
or may it not be such now, as will make them all things is at hand.
all a burden and vexation to you ? But, on It is necessary often to remember this ;
the other hand, the more you abate and let go for even believers too readil) forget it ; and
of these, and come empty and hungry to God it is very suitable to the Apostle's foregoing
in prayer, the more room shall you have for discourse of judgment, and to his present
his consolations, and therefore the more exhortation to sobriety and watchfulnesi
plentifully will he pour in of them, and enrich unto prayer, even the general end of all it
your soul with them the more, the less you at hand ; though, since the Apostle wrote
take in of the other. this, many ages are past. For, 1. The
2dly, Would you have yourselves raised to, Apostles usually speak cf the whole tiuiJ
232
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. iv.
after the coming of Jesus Christ in the flesh, | so fixed, but to see it in the stream of time
usttelast time; for that two double chi- as passing by, and no such great matter.
liads of years past before it, the one before,
the other under the law : and in this third,
it is conceived, shall be the end of all things
The fashion of this world pusseth away,
1 Cor. vii. 31, as a pageant or
show in a street, going through and quickly
We u-hich are alive, and remain, shall be
caught up together with them in tfte clouds.
As not impossible, that it might come in
their time, which put him upon some ex-
plication of that correction of their mistakes,
in his next epistle to them, wherein, not-
withstanding he seems not to assert any
great tract of time to intervene, but in that
time great things were first to come. 2.
However, this might always have been said
in respect of succeeding eternity. The
whole duration of the world is not consider-
able, and to the eternal Lord that made it,
and hath appointed its period, a thousand
years are but as one day. We think a
thousand years a great matter, in respect of
our short life, and more through our short-
sightedness, that look not through this to
eternal life : But what is the utmost length
of time, were it millions of years, to a thought
of eternity ! We find much room in this
earth, but to the vast heavens it is but as a
point. Thus, that which is but small to
us, a field or little inclosure, a fly, had it
skill, would divide it into provinces in pro-
portion to itself. 3. To each man the end
of all things is, even after our measure, at
hand ; for when he dies, the world ends for
him. Now, this consideration fits the sub-
ject, and presses it strongly ; seeing all
things shall be quickly at an end, even the
frame of heaven and earth, why should we,
knowing this, and having higher hopes, lay
out so much of our desires and endeavours
upon these tilings that are posting to ruin ?
It is no hard notion to be sober and watch-
ful to prayer, to be trading that way, and
seeking higher things, and to be very mode-
rate in these, which are of so short a date.
And as, in themselves, and their utmost
term, they are of short duration ; so more
evidently to each of us particularly, who are
so soon cut off, and flee away. Why should
our hearts cleave to those things from which
we shall so quickly part, and from which, if
we will not freely part, and let them go, we
shall be pulled away, and pulled with the
more pain, the closer we cleave, and faster
we are glued to them ?
This the Apostle St. Paul casts in sea-
sonably, though many think it not season,
able at such times, when he is discoursing
of a great point of our life, marriage, to work
Christian minds to a holy freedom both
ways, whether they use it or no ; not to view
it, nor any thing here, with the world's
spectacles, which make it look so big, and
with in their time ? When we read of them
described in history, they are as a night-
dream, or a day -fancy, which passes through
the mind and vanishes !
Oh ! foolish man, that hunteth such poor
thing?, and will not be called off till death
benight him, and finds his great work not
done, yea, not begun ; no, nor seriously
thought of. Your buildings, your trading,
your lands, your matches, and friendships,
and projects, when they take with you, and
your hearts are after them, say, But for how
long all these ? Their end is at hand ;
therefore be sober, and watch unto prayer.
Learn to divide better ; set apart more
hours for it, and fewer for them : Your
whole heart for it, anJ none of it for them.
Seeing they will fail you so quickly, prevent
them. Become free ; lean not on them till
they break, and you fall into the pit.
It is reported of one, that, hearing the
5th of Genesis read, so long lived, and yet
the burden still, they died, Enoch lived
9!t5, and he died, Seth 912, and he died,
Methnselah 969. and he died, he took so
deep the thought of death and eternity, that
it changed his whole frame, and set him
from a voluptuous to a most strict and pious
course of life. How small a word will do
much, when God sets it into the heart J
But sure this one thing would make the soul
more calm and sober in the pursuit of present
things, if their term were truly computed
and considered. How soon shall youth, and
health, and carnal delights, be at an end ?
How soon shall state-craft, and king-craft,
and all the great projects of the highest wits
and spirits, be laid in the dust ? This casts
a damp upon all those fine things. But to
a soul acquainted with God, and, in affec-
tion, removed hence already, no thought so
sweet as this ; it helps much to carry it
cheerfully through wrestlings and difficulties,
through better and worse ; they see land
near, and shall quickly be at home ; that is
the way. The end of all things is at hand :
An end of a few poor delights, and the
many vexations of this wretched life ; an
end of temptations and sins, the worst of all
evils ; yea, an end of the imperfect fashion
of our best things here, an end of prayer
itself, to which succeeds that new song of
endless praises.
VER. 8. And, above all things, have fervent charity
among yourselves: for charity shall cover the
multitude of sins.
THE graces of the Spirit are an entire
VER. 8.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
frame, making up the new creature, and none
of them can be wanting ; therefore the doc-
trine ami exhortation of the Apostles speak
of them usually not only as inseparable, but
tural friendship be capable of that expres-
sion, one spirit in two bodies, Christian
union hath it much more really and proper-
ly : For there is, indeed, one Spirit, more
as one. But there is amongst them all I extensive in all the faithful ; yea, so one
none more comprehensive than this of love, \ spirit, that it makes them up into one body
insomuch that St. Paul calls it the fulfilling more extensive : They are not so much as
of the law, Rom. xiii. 10. Love to God is divers bodies, only divers members of one
the sum of all relative to him, and so like-
wise is it towards our brethren. Love to
God is that which makes us live to him,
and be wholly his ; that which most power-
fully weans us from this world, and causeth
us- to delight in communion with him, in holy
meditation and prayer. Now, the Apostle
adding here the duty of Christians to one
another, gives this as the prime, yea, the
sum of all ; Above all, have fervent love.
Concerning this, consider, I. The nature
of it. II. The eminent degree of it.
III. The excellent fruit of it.
And,
I. The nature of this love. 1. It is an
union, therefore called a bond or chain, that
links things together. 2. It is not a mere
extenial union, that holds in customs, or
words, or outward carriage, but an union of
hearts. 3. It is here not a natural, but a
spiritual supernatural union ; it is that mu-
tual love of Christians as brethren. There
is a common benevolence and good will due
to all ; but a more particular uniting affec-
tion amongst Christians, which makes them
interchangeably one.
The devil being an apostate spirit, revolt-
ed and separated from God, doth naturally
project and work division. This was his
first exploit, and still his grand design and
business in the world. He first divided
man from God ; put them at an enmity by
the first sin of our first parents ; and the
next we read of in their first child, was en-
mity against his brother. So Satan is call-
ed by our Saviour, justly, a liar and a
murderer from the beginning, John viii.
44 ; he murdered man by lying, and made
him a murderer.
And as the devil's work is division,
Christ's work is union ; he came to dissolve
the works of the devil,
8, by a contrary work.
zXt«<r»i, 1 John iii.
He came to make
all friends ; to re-collect and re-unite all
men to God, and man to man ; and both
those unions hold in him by virtue of that
marvellous union of natures in his person,
and that mysterious union of the persons of
believers with him as their Head. So the
word, a.va.xiQa.Ka.iui'ra.-ea
unite all in one Head.
Eph. i. 10, To
This was his great project in all : this he
died and suffered for, and this he prayed
for, John xvii. ; and this is strong above all
ties, natural or civil, union in Christ. This
they have that are indeed Christians ; this
they pretend to have, if they understood it,
body.
Now, this love of our brethren is not an-
other from the love of God, it is but the
streaming forth of it, or the reflection of it.
Jesus Christ sending in his Spirit into the
heart, unites it to God in himself by love,
which is indeed all, that loving of God su-
premely and entirely, with all the mind and '
soul, all the combined strength of the
heart ! And then that same love, first
wholly carried to him, is not divided or im-
paired by the love of our brethren, but is
dilated, as derived from the other. God
allows, yea, commands, yea causes, that it
stream forth, and act itself toward them ;
remaining still in him, as in its source and
centre ; beginning at him, and returning to
him, as the beams that diffuse themselves
from the sun, and the light and heat, yet
are not divided or cut off from it, but re-
main in it, and, by emanation, issue from
it. Loving our brethren in God, and for
him ; not only because he commands us to
love them ; and so the law of love to him
ties us to it, as his will ; but because that
love of God doth naturally extend itself
thus, and acts thus ; in loving our brethren
after a spiritual Christian manner, we do
even in that love our God.
Loving of God makes us one with God,
and so gives us an impression of his divine
bounty in his Spirit ; and his love, the pro-
per work of his Spirit, dwelling in the heart,
enlarges and dilates it, as self-love contracts
and straitens it : So that as self-love is the
perfect opposite to the love of God, it is
likewise so to brotherly love ; it shuts out
and undoes both : And where the love of
God is rekindled and enters the heart, it
destroys and burns up self-love, and so car-
ries the affection up to himself, and in him
forth to our brethren.
This is that bitter root of all enmity in
man against God, and amongst men against
one another, self, man's heart turned from
God towards himself ; and the very work of
renewing grace is, to annul and destroy self,
to replace God in his right, that the heart,
and all its affections and motions, may be at
his disposal. So that, instead of self-will
and self-love that ruled before, now the will
of God and the love of God command all.
And where it is thus, there this p<;.atfEA<p<«,
this love of our brethren, will be sincere.
Whence is it that wars, and contests, and mu-
ual disgracings and despisings, do so much
who profess themselves Christians. If Na- 'abouud, but that men love themselves, and uo-.
254
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. iv.
thing but themselves, or in relation to them-
selves, as it pleases, or is advantageous to
them ? That is the standard and rule ; all is
carried by interest, so thence are strifes and de-
famings, and bitterness against one another ;
but the Spirit of Christ coming in, undoes all
selfishness. And now, according to God,
what he wills and loves, that is law, and a
powerful law ; the law of love is so written
on the heart, that it obeys not unpleasantly,
but with delight, and knows no constraint,
but the sweet constraint of love. To forgive
a wrong, to love even thine enemy for him,
is not only easy now but delectable, although
a little while ago thou thoughtest it was
quite impossible.
That Spirit of Christ, which is all sweet-
ness and love, so calms and composes the
heart, that peace with God, and that un-
speakably blessed correspondence of love with
him. doth so fill the soul with lovingness and
sweetness, that it can breathe nothing else.
it hates nothing but sin, pities the sinner,
and carries to the worst that love of good
will, desiring their return and salvation. But
as for those, in whom appears the image of
their Father, their heart cleaves to them as
brethren indeed. No natural advantages,
no birth, no beauty, nor wit, draws a Chris-
tian's love so much, as the resemblance of
Christ ; wherever that is found, it is comely,
and lovely to a soul that loves him.
Much communion with God sweetens and
calms the mind, cures the distempers of pas.
sion and pride, that are the avowed enemies
of love ; particularly prayer and love suit
well. (I.) Prayer disposes to this love ; he
that loveth not, knoweth not God, saith the
beloved Apostle, for God is love, John iv.
8. He that is most conversant with love,
the spring of it, where it is purest and full-
est, cannot but have the fullest measure of
it, flowing in from thence into his heart, and
flowing forth from thence unto his brethren.
If they that use the society of mild and good
men, are insensibly assimilated to them, grow
like them, and contract somewhat of their
temper ; much more doth familiar walking
with God powerfully transform the soul into
his likeness ; makes it merciful and loving,
and ready to forgive, as he is.
hand,
On the other
(2.) This love disposes to prayer, to pray to-
gether. Hearts must be consorted and tuned
together; otherwise, how can they sound the
same suits harmoniously ? How unpleasant,
in the exquisite ear of God, that made the ear, ------ „..„„„ llullc . MUW um Ulim all ,„ „,„
: the jamngdtsunited hearts, that often seem1 the enemy of God ; know that the indignity
UT !H " Sfme PraTrJ aud yet are not done to them> Jesus Christ will take as done
" ' Whlle th°U - to himself;
sound is harsh and 'offensive. Try it well
thyself, and thou wilt perceive it ; how much
more he, to whom thou prayest, when thou
art stirred, and in passion against thy bro-
ther, or not, on the contrary, lovingly affect-
ed towards him ; what broken, disordered,
unfastened stuff are thy requests ! Therefore
the Lord will have this done first, the heart
tuned ; Go thy way (says he), leave thy gift
and l>e reconciled to thy brother, then come
and offer thy gift, Matt. v. 23, 24.
Why is this so much recommended by
Christ, and so little regarded by Christians ?
It is given by him as the characteristic and
badge of his followers, and of them that pre-
tend to be so, how few wear it ! Oh ! a little
real Christianity were more worth than all
that empty profession and discours3, that we
think so much of. Hearts receiving the
mould and stamp of this rule, these were liv-
ing copies of the gospel ; ye are our epistle,
says the Apostle, 2 Cor. iii. 2. We come
together, and hear, and speak, sometimes of
one grace, and sometimes of another ; and
the most never seek to have their hearts en-
riched with the possession of any of them.
We search not to the bottom the perverseness
of our nature, and the guiltiness that is upon
us in these things ; or we shift off the con-
viction, and find a way to forget it when the
hour is done.
That accursed root, self-love, that make*
man an enemy to God, and men enemies an<\
devourers one of another, who sets to the
discovery and the displanting of it ? \Vho
bends the force of holy endeavours and pray-
er, supplicating the hand of God for the
plucking of it up ? Some natures are quieter
and make less noise, but till the heart be
possessed with the love of God, it shall never
truly love either men, in that way due to all,
or the children of God in their peculiar re-
lation.
Among yourselves, &c.] That is here
the point, the peculiar love of the saints as
thy brethren, glorying and rejoicing in the
same Father ; as the sons of God, begotten
again to that lively hope of glory. Now
these, as they owe a bountiful disposition to
all, are mutually to love one another as bre-
thren.
Thou, that hatest and reproachest the
godly, and the more they study to walk as
the children of their holy Father, hatest them
the more, and art glad to find a spot on them
to point at, or wilt dash mire on them where
thou finili'st none ; know that thou art in this
Up°n
y«-' know that we have
unto life, because we love
the f'rethren : He that loveth not his bro-
ther ahideth in d^h, 1 John iii. 14. So
tune amon, 'hen renounce this word, or else believe that
in tune amongst themselves, and so the thou art yet far from the life of Christ, that
, i
d affected To ,
donl tl
VEK. 8.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
25*
so hatest it in others. Oh ! but they are a ther ; therefore called, Col. iii. 14, the bond
number of hypocrites, wilt thou say. If they of perfection, to signify, that all is bound
oe so, this declares so much the more thy up by it. How can they pray together,
extreme hatred of holiness, that canst not, advance the name of their God, keep in and
endure so much as the picture of it ; canst stir up all grace in ons another, unless they
not see any thing like it, but thou must let
fly at it.
of God.
And this argu3s thy deep hatred
Holiness, in a Christian, is the
image of God, and the hypDcrite, in the re-
semblance of it, is the image of a Christian ;
so thou hatest the very image of the image of
God ; for, deceive not thyself, it is not the
latent evil in hypocrisy, but the apparent
good in it, that thou hatest. The profane
man thinks himself a great zealot against hy-
pocrisy, he is still exclaiming against it ;
but it is only this he is angry at, that all
should not be ungodly ; wicked enemies of
religion, as he is ; either dissolute, or merely
civil ; and the civil man is frequently the
bitterest enemy of all strictness beyond his
own size, as condemning him, and therefore
he cries it down, as all of it false and coun-
terfeit wares.
L2t me entreat you, if you would not be
found fiyhten against Go I, ht no revilings
be heard amongst you, against any who are,
or seem to be, followers of holiness. If ye
will not reverence it yourselves, yet reverence
it in others, at least do not reproach it. I.
should be your ambition, else why are you
willing to be called Christians ? Bat if you
will not pursue holiness, yet persecute it
not: If you will not have fervent love to
the saints, yet burn not with infernal heat ol
fervent hatred against them ; for, truly, that
is one of the most likely pledges of thess.
flames, and society with damned spirits ; a.-
love to the children of God is, of that in-
heritance and society with them in glory.
You that are brethren, and united by that
purest and strongest tie, as you are one in
your Head, in your life derived from him,
in your hopes of glory with him ; seek to b.
more one in heart ; in fervent love one to an-
other in him. Consider the combination:
and concurrences of the wicked against hin
and his little flock ; and let this provoke you
to more united affections. Shall the scales
of Leviathan, Job xli. 15, (as one alludes,]
stick so close together, and shall not the
members of Christ be more one, and undi-
vided : You that can resent it, stir up your-
selves, to bewail the present divisions anc
fears of more ; entreat earnestly for that one
Spirit to act and work more powerfully in
the hearts of his people.
1 1. We may observe the eminent degree o
>e united in lo*e ? How can they have ac-
cess to God, or fellowship with Him who is
'one, as St. John speaks, if instead of this
sweet temper there be rancour and bitterness
among them ? So then, uncharitableness and
divisions amongst Christians, do not only
hinder their civil good, but their spiritual
much more ; and that only lucro cessante,
[as they speak,) interrupting the ways of
mutual profiting, but damno emergente, it
doth really damage then, and brings them to
losses ; preys upon their graces, as hot wi-
thering winds on herbs and plants. Where
the heart entertains either bitter malice, or
but uncharitable prejudices, there will be a
certain decay of spirituality in the whole soul.
2. Again, for the degree of this love re-
quired, it is not a cold indifferency, a nega-
tive love, as I may call it, or not willing of
evil, nor a lukewarm wishing of good, but
fervent and active love ; for, if fervent, it will
be active, a fire that will not be smothered,
but will find a way to extend itself.
III. The fruits of this love follow. 1.
Covering of evil, in this verse. 2. Doing
of good, verse .9, &c.
For the first of these, it is said, Charily
shall cover the multitude of sins. The ex-
pression is taken from Solomon ; and as co-
vering sins is represented as a main act of love,
so love is commended by it, this being a
most useful and laudable act of it, that it
covers sins, and a multitude of xins.
Solomon saith, Prov. x. 12, as the opposi-
tion clears the sense, Haired stirs strife,
aggravates and makes the worst of all, but
love covers a multitude of sins ; it delights
not in undue disclosing of brethren's failings,
doth not eye them rigidly, nor expose them
willingly to the eyes of others.
Now, this recommends charity, in regard
of its continual usefulness and necessity this
way, considering human frailty ; and that
in many things (as St. James speaks) we
all offend, James iii. 2 ; so that this is still
needful on all hands. What do they think
that are still picking at every appearing in-
firmity of their brethren ; know they not that
the frailries that cleave to the saints of God
while they are here, do stand in need of, and
call for this mutual office of love, to cover
and pass them by ? Who is there that stands
not in need of this ? If none, why are there
any that deny it to others ? There can b2
this love. 1. Its eminency amongst the
graces, above all. 2. The high measure of ( no society nor entertaining of Christian con-
it required, fervent love, [<«Tsv!,J ahigh bent verse without it; giving (as we speak) al-
or strain of it ; that which acts strongly, and lowance ; reckoning to meet with defects and
carries far. weaknesses on all hands ; covering the failings
2. It is eminent, that which indeed among of one another, seeing it is needful from each
Christians preserves all, and knits all toge- j to another
250
Again, as the necessity of this commends
it, and the love whence it flows, so there is
that laudable ingenuity in it, that should
draw us to the liking of it. It is the bent
of the basest and most worthless spirits to
be busy in the search and discovery of others'
failings, passing by all that is commendable
and imitable ; as base flies readily sitting
on any little sore they can find, rather than
upon the sound parts. But the more excel-
lent mind of a real Christian loves not un-
necessarily to touch, no, nor to look upon
them, rather turns away ; such never uncover
their brother's sores, but to cure them ; and
no more than is necessary for that end ; they
would willingly have them hid, that neither
they nor others might see them.
This bars not the judicial trial of scanda-
lous offences, nor the delation of them, and
bringing them under due censure. The for-
bearing of this is not charity, but both ini-
quity and cruelty ; and this cleaves too much
to many of us. They that cannot pass the
least touch of a wrong done to themselves, can
digest twenty high injuries done to God by
profane persons about them, and resent it
not ; and such may be assured, that they are
yet destitute of love to God, and of Chris-
tian love to their brethren, which springs
from it.
The uncovering of sin, necessary to the
curing of it, is not only no breach of cha-
rity, but is indeed a main point of it, and
the neglect of it the highest kind of cruelty.
But further than that goes, certainly this
rule teaches us the veiling of our brethren's
infirmities from the eyes of others, and even
from our own, that we look not on them with
rigour ; no, nor without compassion.
1. Love is witty in finding out the fair-
est, construction of things doubtful, and this
is a great point. Take me the best action
that can be named, pride and malice shall
find a way to disgrace it, and put a hard vis-
age upon it. Again, what is not unde-
niably evil, love will turn to all the ways of
viewing it, till it find the best and most
favourable.
2. Where the thing is so plainly a sin,
that this way of covering it can have no place,
yet then will love consider what may lessen
it most ; whether a surprise, or strength of
temptation, or ignorance, as our Saviour,
Father, forgive them, for they know not
what they do, Luke xxiii. 34, or natural
complexion ; or at least will still take in
human frailty, to turn all the bitterness of
passion into sweet compassion.
3. All private reproofs, and where con-
science requires public delation and censure,
even these will be sweetened in that com-
passion that flows from love. If it be such
a sore as must not be let lie covered up, lest
it prove deadly, so that it must be uncovered
to be lanced and cut, that it may be cured,
[CHAP. iv.
still this is to be done as loving the soul of
the brother. Where the rule of conscience
urges it not, then thou must bury it, and be
so far from delighting to divulge such things;
that, as far as without partaking in it thou
mayest, thou must veil it from all eyes, and
try the way of private admonition ; and if
the party appear to be humble and willing to
be reclaimed, then forget it, cast it quite
out of thy thoughts, that, as much as may
be, thou mayest learn to forget more. But
this, I say, is to be done with the tenderest
bowels of pity, feeling the cuts thou art forced
to give in that necessary incision, and using
mildness and patience. Thus the Apostle
instructs his Timothy, Reprove, rebuke,
exhort, but do it with long -suffering, with
all long-suffering, 2 Tim. iv. 2. And even
them that oppose, instruct, says he, with
meekness ; if God peradoenture will give
them repentance to the acknowledging of
the truth, chap. ii. vcr. 25.
4. If thou be interested in the offence,
even by unfeigned free forgiveness, so far as
thy concern goes, let it be as if it had not
been. And though thou meet with many of
these, charity will gain and grow by such
occasions : And the more it hath covered,
the more it can cover, cover a multitude,
says our Apostle ; covers all sins, says
Solomon ; yea, though thou be often put t<?
it by the same party, what made thee forgive
once, well improved, will stretch our Saviour's
rule to seventy limes seven times in one day,
Matt, xviii. 21, 22.
And, truly, in this men mistake grossly
that think it is greatness of spirit to resenf
wrongs, and baseness to forgive them ; on
the contrary, it is the only excellent spirit
scarce to feel a wrong, or, feeling, straight
to forgive it. It is the greatest and best of
Spirits that enables to this, tiie Spirit of God,
that dove-like Spirit that rested on our Lord
Jesus, and from him is derived to all that
are in him. I pray you think, is it not a
token of a tender sickly body, to be altered
with every touch, from every blast it meets
with ? And thus it is a sign of a poor weak
sickly spirit, to endure nothing, to be dis-
tempered at the least air of an injury ; yea,
with the very fancy of it, where there is
really none.
Inf. 1. Learn then to beware of these
evils, that are contrary to this charity. Do
not dispute with yourselves in rigid remarks
and censures, when the matter will bear any
better sense.
2. Do not delight in tearing a wound
wider, and stretching a real failing to the
utmost.
3. In handling of it, study gentleness,
piety, and meekness. These will advance the
cure, whereas thy flying out into passion
against thy fallen brother, will prove nothing,
but as the putting of thy nail into the sore,
. 8.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETIIH.
257
that will readily rankle it, and make it worse.
Even sin may be sinfully reproved ; and how
thinkest thou, that sin shall redress sin, and
reduce the sinner ?
There is a great deal of spiritual art and
skill in dealing with another's sin : and it
requires much spirituality of mind, and much
prudence, and much love, especially a mind
clear from passion, for that blinds the eye,
and makes the hand rough ; so that a man
neither rightly sees nor handles the sore he
goes about to cure. And many are lost
through the ignorance and neglect of that
due temper to be brought to this work. Men
think otherwise, that their rigours are much
spirituality ; but they mistake it, Gal. vi. 1,
Ifreihren, if a man be overtaken in a fault,
ye which are spiritual, restore such an one
in the spirit of meekness, considering thy-
self, lest thou also be tempted.
4. For thyself, as an offence touches thee,
learn to delight as much in that divine way
of forgiveness, as carnal minds do in that
base inhuman way of revenge. It is not as
they judge, a glory to bluster and swagger
for every thing, but the glory of a man to
pass by a transgression, Prov. xix. 11.
This makes him God-like. And consider
thou often that love that covers all thine,
that blood that was shed to wash oft' thy guilt ;
needs any more be said to gain all in this
that can be required of thee ?
Now, the other fruit of love, which is
doing good, is, 1. Expressed in one parti-
cular, ver. 9. Then dilated to a general
rule, ver. 10, which will be considered below.
VF.R. P. Use hospitality one to another without
grudging.
HOSPITALITY, or kindness to strangers,
is mentioned here as an important fruit of
love ; it being in those times and places, in
much use in travel, and particularly then
needful to be often exercised among Chris-
tians one to another, by reason of hot and
general persecutions. But under this name
I conceive all other supply of the wants of
our brethren in outward things to be here
comprehended.
Now, for this, the way and measure, in-
deed, must receive its proportion from the
estate and ability of persons. But certain-
ly the great straitening of hands in these
things, is more from the straitness of hearts
than of means. A large heart, with a little
estate, will do much with cheerfulness and
little noise, while hearts glued to the poor
riches they possess, or rather are possessed
by, can scarce part with any thing, till they
be pulled from all.
Now, for supply of our brethren's necessi-
ties, one good help is, the retrenching of
our own superfluities. Turn the stream into
that channel where it will refresh thy bre-
thren, and enrich thyself, and let it net run
into the dead sea. Thy vain excessive enter-
tainments, thy gaudy variety of dresses,
these thou dost not challenge, thinking it is
of thine own ; but know, as follows, thou art
but steward of it, and this is not faithfully
laying out : thou canst not answer for it ;
yea, it is robbery ; thou robbest thy poor
brethren that want necessaries, whilst thou
lavishes! thus on unnecessaries. Such a
feast, such a suit of apparel, is direct rob-
bery in the Lord's eye, and the poor may
cry, That is mine that you cast away so
vainly, by which both I and you might be
profited, Prov. iii. 27, 28, Withhold not
good from him, therefore, to whom it is
due, &c.
Without grudging. ,] Some look to the
actions, but few to the intention and posture
of mind in them ; and yet that is die main ;
it is indeed all, even with men, so far as
they can perceive it ; much more with thy
Lord, who always perceives it to the full.
He delights in the good he does his crea-
tures : He would have them so affected to
one another, especially would see his chil-
dren to have this trace of his likeness. 'See,
then, when thou givest alms, or entertainest
a stranger, that there be nothing either of
under grumbling, or crooked self-seeking in
it. Let the left hand have no hand in it,
not so much as knozo of it, as our Saviour
directs, Matt. vi. 3 ; not to please men, or
to please thyself, or simply out of a natural
pity or consideration of thy own possible in-
cidency into the like case, wh;ch many think
very well, if they be so moved : But if there
be here a higher principle moving thee, love
to God, and to thy brother, in, and for him,
this will make it cheerful and pleasant to
thyself, and well pleasing to him for whom
thou dost it. We lose much in actions, of
themselves good, both of piety and charity,
through disregard of our hearts in them ; and
nothing will prevail with us, to be more in-
tent this way, to look more on our hearts, but
this, to look more on him that looks on them,
and judges and accepts all according to them.
Though all the sins of former ages gather,
and fall into the latter times, this is point-
ed out as the grand evil, uncharitableness.
The Apostle St. Paul, 2 Tim. iii. 2, tells us,
That in the last day, men shall be covetous,
slanderers, lovers of pleasures more than
lovers of God : But how, from whence all
this confluence of evils ? The spring of all
is set first, and that is the direct opposite
of Christian love ; they shall be [QI^&VT/>I~\
lovers of themselves. This is it, that kills
the love of God, and the love of our bre-
thren, and kindles that infernal fire of love
to please themselves ; so that- riches make
men volnptuous and covetous, &c. Truly,
whatsoever become of men's curious compu-
tation of times, this wretched selfishness and
decay of love may save us the labour of
K
258
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. iv.
much chronological debate in this, and lead
us from this certain character of them, to
conclude these to be the latter times, in a
very strict sense. All other sins are come
down along, and run combined now ; but
truly uncharitableness is the main one. As
old age is a rendezvous or meeting place of
maladies, but especially subject to cold dis-
eases : Thus is it in the old age of the
world, many sins abound, but especially
coldness of love, as our Saviour foretells it,
that in the last days the love of many
shall wax cold, Matt. xxiv. 12. As the
disease of the youth of the world, was the
abounding of hist, Gen. vi. so of its age,
decay of love: And as that heat called for
a total deluge of waters ; so this coldness for
fire, to the kindling an universal fire, that shall
make an end of it and the world together. *
But they alone are the happy men, and
have the advantage of all the world, in whom
the world is burnt up beforehand by another
fire ; that divine fire of the love of God
kindled in their hearts, by which they as-
cend up to him, and are reflected from him
upon their brethren, with a benign heat and
influence for their good. Oh ! be unsatis-
fied with yourselves, and restless till you
find it thus, till you find your hearts pos-
sessed with this excellent grace of love, that
you may have it, and use it, and it may grow
by using and acting. I could, methinks,
heartily study on this, and weary you with
reiterated pressing this one thing, if there
were hopes in so wearying you, to weary you
out of these evils that are contrary to it ; and
in pressing this grace, to make any real im-
pression of it upon your hearts : Besides all
the further good that follows it, there is in
this love itself, so much peace and sweetness,
as abundantly pays itself, and all the labour
of it ; whereas pride and malice do fill the
heart with continual vexations and disquiet,
and eat out the very bowels wherein they
breed. Aspire to this, to be wholly bent,
not only to procure or desire hurt to none,
but to wish and seek the good of all ; and,
for those that are in Christ, sure that will
unite thy heart to them, and stir thee up,
according to thy opportunities and power,
to do thew good, as parts of Christ, and of
the same body with thyself.
VER. 10. As every man hath received the gift,
even so minister the same one to another, as good
stewards of the manifold grace of God.
THIS is the rule concerning the gifts and
graces bestowed on men ; and we have here,
1. Their difference in their kind and mea-
sure. 2. Their concordance in their source
and use.
1. Their difference in their kind and mea-
sure, which is expressed in the first clause,
as every one hath received. Then again in
ardorcm Iibidinis' ignis proi>ter
the last clause, \^voix.i\-/t £<%?] various or
manifold grace, where %«f<?, grace, is all
one with the former, %ri(>i<rp.a, gift, and is
taken at large for all kind of endowments
and furniture by which men are enabled to
mutual good. One man hath riches, an-
other authority and command, another wit
or eloquence, or learning ; and some, though
eminent in some one, yet have a fuller con-
juncture of divers of these. We find not
more difference in visages and statures of
body, than in qualifications and abilities 01
the mind, which are the visage and stature
of it ; yea, the odds is far greater betwixt
man and man in this than it can be in the
other.
Now, this difference accords well, 2dly,
With the accordance here expressed in their
common spring and common use ; for the
variety of these many gifts suits well with
the singular riches and wisdom of their one
Giver, and with the common advantage and
benefit of the many receivers. And in the
usefulness of that variety to the receivers
shines forth the bounty and wisdom of the
Giver, in so ordering all that diversity to
one excellent end ; so this manifold grace
•raixiXfi x,<*Z's here, commends that creXw-
TO/K/XSJ a-^ia, manifold wisdom, that the
Apostle speaks of, Eph. iii. 10.
There is such an admirable beauty in this
variety, such a symmetry and con temperature
of different, yea, of contrary qualities, as
speaks his riches, that so divers gifts are
from the same Spirit. A kind of embroi-
dering,* of many colours happily mixed, as
the word VOIKI).XII\I signifies ; as it is in the
frame of the natural body of man as the
lesser world, and in the composure of the
greater world ; thus in the Church of God,
the mystical body of Jesus Christ, exceeding
both the former in excellency and beauty.
And as there is such art in this contri-
vance, and such comeliness in the resulting
frame, so it is no less useful ; and that
chiefly commends the thing itself, and the
supreme wisdom ordering it, that as, in the
body, each part hath not only its place for
proportion and order, but each its use ; and
as, in the world, each part is beneficial to
another ; so here, every man's gift relates,
and is fitted, to some use for the good of
others.
Inf. 1. The first thing which meets us
here is very useful to know, that all is re-
ceived, and received of gift, of most free
gift ; so the words do carry. Now, this
should most reasonably check all murmur-
ing in those that receive least ; and insult-
ing in those that receive most ; whatever it
is, do not repine, but praise, how little
soever it is, for it is a free gift. Again,
how much soever it is, be not high-minded,
* The Psalmist's word for the bcdy, Psal. cxxxix
'5, is, curiously wrought.
VER. 10.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
259
but fear ; boast not thyself, but humbly
bless thy Lord ; for if thou hast received it,
how canst thou boast 9 1 Cor. iv. ?•
Oh ! that we would consider this in all,
and look back and mourn on the fruitlessness
of all that hath been in our hand all our life
2. Every man hath received some gift, no hitherto. If it have not been wholly fruit-
man all gifts ; and this, rightly considered, 'less, yet, how far short of that fruit we might
would keep all in a more even temper ; as, | have brought forth ! any little thing done by
in nature, nothing is altogether useless, so j us looks big in our eye ; we view it through
nothing is self-sufficient : This duly con- a magnifying glass ; but who may not com-
jlain that their means, and health, and op-
sidered, would keep the meanest from repin-
ing and discontent, even him that hath the
lowest rank in most respects ; yet something
he hath received, that is not only a good to
himself, but, rightly improved, may be so to
others likewise. And this will curb the
loftiness of the most advanced, and teach
them, not only to see some deficiencies in
themselves, and some gifts in far meaner
persons, which they want : But, besides the
simple discovery of this, it will put them
upon the use of what is in lower persons, not
only to stoop to the acknowledgment, but
even, withal, to the participation and benefit
of it ; not to trample upon all that is below
them, but to take up, and use things useful,
though lying at their feet. Some flowers and
herbs that grow very low, are of a very fra-
grant smell, and healthful use.
Thou that earnest it so high, losest much
by it. Many poor Christians whom thou
despisest to make use of, may have that in
them which might be very useful for thee,
though thou overlookest it, and treadest on it.
St. Paul acknowledgeth he was comforted by
the coming of Titus, though far inferior to
him. Sometimes a very mean illiterate Chris-
tian may speak more profitably and comfort-
ably, even to a knowing learned man, than
multitudes of his own best thoughts can do,
especially in a time of weakness and darkness.
3. As all is received, and with that differ-
ence, so the third thing is, that all is receiv-
ed, to minister to each other ; and mutual
benefit is the true use of all, suiting the mind
of him that dispenses all, and the way of hi:
dispensation. Thou art not proprietary lord
of any thing thou hast, but oizov^a?, a ste-
portunities, of several kinds, of doing for
God, and for our brethren, have lain dead
upon their hands in a great part ? As Chris-
Jans are defective in other duties of love, so
most in that most important duty, of ad-
vancing the spiritual good of each other.
Even they that have grace, do not duly use
it to mutual edification. I desire none to
leap over the bounds of -their calling, or rules
of Christian prudence in their converse ; yea,
this were much to be blamed ; but I fear lest
unwary hands, throwing on water to quench
that evil, have let some of it fall by upon
those sparks, that should rather have been
stirred and blown up.
Neither should the disproportion of gift?
and graces hinder Christians to minister one
to another, nor move the weaker to envy the
stronger, nor the stronger to despise the weak-
er ; but each is, in his place, to be service,
able to another; as the Apostle excellentl}
presses by that most fit resemblance of the
parts of the body, 1 Cor. xii. 15, 21, As the
foot says not, why am I not the eye, or the
head; the head cannot say of the foot, I
have no need of thee. There is no envy,
no despising, in the natural body. Oh !
what pity is it there should be so much in
the mystical ! Were we more spiritual, this
would less be found. In the mean time,
Oh ! that we were more agreeable to that
happy estate we look for, in our present as-
pect and carriage one to another. Though
all graces are, in some measure, where there
is one, yet all not in a like measure. One
Christian is more eminent in meekness, an-
other in humility, a third in zeal, &c. Now
ward ; and therefore oughtest gladly to be , by their spiritual converse, one with another,
a good steward, that is, both faithful and
prudent in thy intrusted gifts, using all thou
hast to the good of the household, and so to
the advantage of thy Lord and master. Hast
thou abilities of ^estate, or body, or mind ?
let all be thus employed. Thinkest thou
that thy wealth, or power, or wit, is thine,
to do with them as thou wilt, ta engross to
thyself either to retain useless, or to use ; to
hoard and wrap up, or to lavish out, accord-
each may be a gainer ; and many ways may
a private Christian promote the good of
others, with whom he lives, by seasonable
admonitions, and advice, and reproof, sweet*
ened with meekness : but most by holy ex-
ample, which is the most lively, and most
effectual speech.
Thou that hast greater gifts, hast more
entrusted in thy hand, and therefore the
more engagement in fidelity and diligence.
ing as thy humour leads thee? No, all is j Men in great place and public services, ought
given, as to a steward, wisely and faithfully I to stir themselves up by this thought to sin-
to lay up and lay out. Not only thy outward ! gular watchfulness and zeal ; and, in private
and common gifts of mind, but even saving converse one with another, to be doing and
grace, which seems most interested and ap- receiving spiritual good. Are we not stran-
propriated for thy private good, yet is not \ gers here ; and is it not strange that we so
wholly for that ; even thy graces are for the ! often meet and part, without a word of our.
good of thy brethren. jhomea or the way to it, or our advancement
280
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP.
towards it ? Christians should be trading |
one with another in spiritual things ; and
he, sure, that faithfully useth most, receives
most. That is comprehended under that
word, Matth. xxv. 29, To him that hath
(i. e. possesses actively and usefully), shall
be given ; and from him that hath not (i. e.
uses not), shall be taken away even that
which he hath. Merchants can feel in their
trading a dead time, and complain seriously
of it ; but Christians in theirs, either can
suffer it, and not see it, or see it, and not
complain ; or, possibly, complain, and yet
not be deeply sensible of it.
Certainly it cannot be sufficiently regretted,
that we are so fruitless in the Lord's work
in this kind, that when we are alone we study
it not more, nor seek it more by prayer, to
know the true use of all we receive, and do
not in society endeavour it accordingly ; but
we trifle out our time ; and instead of the
commerce of grace, to our mutual enriching,
we trade in vanity, and as it were children
exchanging shells and toys together.
This surely will lie heavy upon the con-
science when we reflect on it, and shall come
near the brink of time, looking forwards on
eternity ; and the looking back to our days,
so vainly wasted, and worn out to so little
purpose. Oh ! let us awake, awake ourselves
and one another, to more fruitlessness and
faithfulness, whatsoever be our received mea-
sure, less or more,
Be not discouraged ; to have little in the
account shall be no prejudice. The appro-
bation runs not, Thou hadst much ; but, on
the contrary, Thou hast been faithful in
little : Great faithfulness in the use of small
gifts hath great acceptance, and a great and
sure reward. Great receipts engage to great-
er returns, and therefore require the greater
diligence ; and that not only for the increase
of grace within, but the assistance of it in
others. Retired contemplation may be more
pleasing ; but due activity for God and his
Church is more profitable. Rachel was
fair, but she was barren ; Leah, blear-eyed,
tut fruitful.
VER. 11. If any man speak, let him speak as the
oracles of God : If any man minister, let hirg do
it as of the ability which God giveth ; that God
in all things may be glorified through Jesus
Christ: to whom be praise and dominion for
«ver and ever. Amen.
EVERY part of the body of Christ, as it
partakes life with the rest, imparts service
to the rest ; but there be some more eminent,
and, as I may say, organic parts of this body,
and these are more eminently useful to the
whole. Therefore the Apostle, having en-
larged himself into a general precept, adds a
word in special to these special parts, the
preachers of the word, and (which here I con-
ceive is meant by deacons or ministers) the
Oilier assistant officers of the church of God.
These are co-ordained by Jesus Christ, as
Lord of his own house, to be serviceable to
him in it. He fits and sanctifies for this
great work all who are called unto it by him-
self, and they are directed for the acquitting
of their great work : (1.) By a clear rule of
the due manner. (2.) By a view of the
main end of its appointment.
Particular rules for the preaching of the
word may be many, but this is a most com-
prehensive one which the Apostle gives ; //
any man speak, let him speak as the ora-
cles of God. It is clear from the rule what
speaking is regulated, and for brevity once
expressed. If any speak the oracles of God,
let him speak them like themselves, as the
oracles of God.
It is a chief thing in all serious actions to
take the nature of them aright, for this chief-
ly regulates them, and directs them in their
performance. And this especially should be
regarded in those things, that are of highest
worth and greatest weight, in spiritual em-
ployments, wherein it is most dangerous, and
y et wi th us most ordinary, to mistake and mis-
carry. Were prayer considered as presence
and speech with the great God, the King of
glory, Oh ! how would this mould the mind !
What a watchful, holy, and humble deport-
ment would it teach ! So that truly all
directions for prayer might be summed up
after this same model in this one, if any man
pray, let him speak as speaking with God ;
just as here for preaching, if any man speak
in that way, let him do it as speaking from
God, that is, as the oracles of God. Under
this, all the due qualifications of this holy
work are comprised : I shall name but these
three which are prime, and others may be
easily reduced to these : I. Faithfully. 2.
Holily. 3. Wisely.
In the first, Fidelity, it is supposed that a
man have competent insight and knowledge
in these divine oracles, that first he learn be-
fore he teach. Which many of us do not,
though we pass through the schools and class-
es, and through the books too, wherein these
things are taught, and bring with us some
provision, such as may be had there. He
that would faithfully teach of God must be
taught of God, be fie^iS»»rat, God-learn-
ed ,• and this will help to all the rest ; this
will effectually engage him to be faithful in
delivering the message as he receives it, not
detracting or adding, nor altering ; and as in
setting forth that in general truths, so in the
particular setting them home, declaring to
his people their sins, and . God's judg-
ments following sin, especially in his own
people.
2. A minister should speak holily: With
the highest esteem and reverence of the great
Majesty whose message he carries, and the
divinity of the message itself: those deep
mysteries that no created spirits are able tc
VEU. 11. J
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
fathom. Oh ! this would make us tremble
in the dispensing of these oracles, consider-
ing our impurities, and weaknesses, and un-
speakable disproportion to so high a task.
He had reason that said, " I am seized with
amazement and horror as often as I begin to
speak of God." And with this humble re-
verence is to be joined ardent love to our
Lord, to his truth, to his glory, and his peo-
ple's souls. These holy affections stand op-
posite to our blind boldness in rushing on
this sublime exercise, as a common work :
Our dead coldness in speaking things which
our hearts are not warmed with ; and so no
wonder though what we say seldom reaches
further than the ear, or, at furthest, than the
understanding and memory, of our hearers.
There is a correspondence : it is the heart
speaks to the heart, and the understanding
and memory the same ; and the tongue
speaks but to the ear. Further, this holy
temper shuts out all private passion in deli-
vering divine truths. It is high profaning
of' his name and holy things to make them
speak our private pleas and quarrels ; yea, to
reprove sin after this manner is a heinous
sin ; to fly out into invectives, that, thougli
not expressed so, yet are aimed as blows of
self-revenge for injuries done to us, or fancied
by us. This is to wind and draw the holy
word of God to serve our unholy distempers,
and make it speak not His meaning, but our
own. Sure this is not to speak as the oracles
of God, but basely to abuse the word, as im-
postors in religion of old did their images ;
speaking behind them and through them
what might make for their advantage. It is
indeed very true, that the word is to be par-
ticularly applied, to reprove most the parti-
cular sins which most abound amongst a peo-
ple : but this is to be done, not in anger, but
in love. Which leads to add,
3. That the word is to be spoken wisely.
By this I mean, in the way of delivering it,
that it b'e done gravely and decently ; . that
light expressions, and affected flourishes, and
unseemly gestures, be avoided ; and that
there be a sweet contemperature of authority
and mildness : But who is sufficient for
these things ? 2 Cor. ii. 1C.
Now, you that hear would certainly meet
and suit in this too. If any hear, let him
hear as the oracles of God : Not as a well-
tuned sound, to help you to sleep an hour :
Not as a human speech or oration, to displease
or please you an hour, according to the suit-
ing of its strain and vour palate : Not as a
tchool lesson, to add somewhat to a stock of
knowledge ; to tell you somewhat you knew
not before, or as a feast of new notions. Thus
the most relish a preacher, while they try
his gift, and it is new with them, whereas a
little time disgusts them. But hear as the
oracles of God, the discovery of sin. and
death lying on us, and the discovery of
Saviour, that takes these off: The sweet
word of reconciliation, God wooing man ;
the Great King entreating for peace with a
company of rebels ; not that they are too
strong for him ; Oh ! no, but on the con-
trary, he could utterly destroy them in one
moment. These are the things brought you
in this word ; therefore come to it with suita-
ble reverence, with ardent desires, and hearts
open to receive it with meekness, as the in-
grafted word that is able to save your souls,
James i. 21. It were well worth one day's
pains of speaking and hearing, that we could
learn somewhat, at least how to speak and hear
henceforward ; to speak and hear as the ora-
cles of God.
In the other, of ministering as of the
ability that God giveth, we may observe,
1. Ability, and that received from God ; for
other there is none for any good work, and
least of all for the peculiar ministration of
his spiritual affairs in his house. 2. The
using of this ability received from him for
them.
And this truly is a chief thing for minis-
ters, and for each Christian, still to depend
on the influence and strength of God ; to do
all his works in that strength ; the humblest
Christian, how weak soever, is the strongest
There is a natmal wretched independency
in us, that we would be the authors of oui
own works, and do all without Him, with-
out whom indeed we can do nothing. Let
us learn to go more out of ourselves, and we
shall find more strength for our duties, and
against our temptations. Faith's great work
is, to renounce self-power, and to bring in
the power of God to be ours. Happy they
that are weakest in themselves, most sensibly
so. That word of the Apostle is theirs ;
they know what it means, though a riddle to
the world ; When I am weak, then am I
strong, 2 Cor. xii. 10. Now,
2. The end of all this appointment is,
that in all God may be glorified through
Jesus Christ ! All meet in this, if they
move in their straight line, here they concen-
tre : Not only these two sorts specified in
this verse, but all sorts of persons that use
aright any gift of God, as they are generally
comprehended in the former verse ; for this
end relates to all, as it is expressed univer-
sally, That in all, in all persons, and all
things ; the word bears both, and the thing
itself extends to both.
Here we have, like that of the heavens, a
circular motion of all sanctified good ; il
comes forth from God, through Christ, unto
Christians ; and, moving in them to the
mutual good of each other, returns through
Christ unto God again, and takes them along
with it, in whom it was and had its motion.
All persons and things shall pay this ti i-
bure, even they that most wickedly seek to
withhold it ; but this is the happiness of
262
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAT, rv.
ihe saints, that they move willingly thus
are sweetly drawn, not forced or driven
They are gained to seek and desire this, to
set in with God in the intention of the same
end ; to have the same purpose with him
his glory in all, and to prosecute his end by
his direction, the means and ways lie appoint"
them.
This is his due, as God ; and the declin-
ing from this, squinting from this view to
self-ends, especially in God's own peculiar
work, is high treason ; yet the base hear
of man leads naturally this way, to intend
himself in all, to raise his own esteem or ad-
vantage in some way.
And in this the heart is so subtle, that it
wiU deceive the most discerning, if they be
not constant in suspecting and watching it.
This is the great task to overcome in this
point. To have self under our feet, and God
only in our eye and purpose in all.
It is most reasonable, his due as God, the
Author of all, not only of all supervenient
good, but even of being itself, seeing all i
from him, that all be for him, Rom. xi.
ult. For of him, and through him, and to
him, are all things : To whom be glory for
ever. Amen.
As it is most just, so it is also most
sweet, to aim at all this, that God be glori-
fied: It is the alone worthy and happy de-
sign that fills thf heart with heavenliness, and
with a heavenly calmness ; sets it above
the clouds and storms of those passions thai
disquiet low self-seeking minds. He is
.1 miserable unsettled wretch, that cleaves
to himself and forgets God ; is perplexed
about his credit, and gain, and base ends,
which are often broke ; and which when he
attains, yet they and he must shortly perish
together. When his estate or designs,
or any comforts fail, how can lie look to Him
whom he looked so little at before ? May
not the Lord say, Go to the gods whom thou
hast served, and let them deliver and com-
fort thee 2 Seek comfort from thyself, as
thou didst all for thyself. What an appal-
ment will this be ? But he that hath re-
signed himself, and is all for God, may say
confidently, that the Lord is his portion.
This is the Christian's aim, to have no-
thing in himself, nor in any thing, but in
this tenure ; all for the glory of my God,
my estate, family, abilities, my whole self'
all I have and am. And as the love of God
grows in the heart, this purpose grows ; the
higher the flame rises, the purer it is ; the
eye is daily more upon it ; it is oftener in
the mind in all actions than before. In
common things, the very works of our call-
ings, our very refreshments, to eat, and drink,
and sleep, aie all for this end ; and with a
particular aim at it as much as may be ; even
the thought of it often renewed throughout
the day, and at times, generally applied to
all our ways and employments. It is that
elixir that turns thy ordinary works into gold,
into sacrifices, by touch of it.
Through Jesus Christ.] The Christian
in covenant with God, receives all this way,
and returns all this way : and Christ possess-
es and hath equal right with the Father to
this glory, as he is equally the spring of it
with him as God. But it is conveyed
through him as Mediator, that obtains all the
grace we receive ; and all the glory we return,
and all our praise, as our spiritual sacrifice,
is put into his hands, as our high-priest, to
offer up for us, that they may be accepted.
Now the holy ardour of the Apostle's
affections, taken with the mention of this
glory of God, carries him to a doxology, as
we term it, a rendering of glory in the middle
of his discourse. Thus often we find in St.
Paul likewise. Poor and short-lived is the
glory and grandeur of men ; like themselves,
it is a shadow, and nothing ; but this is solid
and lasting, it is supreme, and abideth/or
ever. And the Apostles, full of divine
affections, and admiring nothing but God, do
delight in this, and cannot refrain from this
at any time in their discourse ; it is always
sweet and seasonable, and they find it so.
And thus are spiritual minds ; a word of this
nature falls on them as a spark on some
matter that readily takes fire ; they are
straight inflamed with it. But alas ! to us
how much is it otherwise ! The mention
of the praises and glory of our God, is to
our hearts as a spark falling either into
a puddle of water, and foul water too, or
at least as upon green timber, that much
fire will not kindle : So much moisture of
our humours and corruptions, that all dies
out with us, and we remain cold and dead.
But were not this a high and blessed con-
dition, to be in all estates in some willing
readiness to bear a part in this song, to ac-
knowledge the greatness and goodness of our
God, and to wish him glory in all ?
What are the angels doing ? This is their
business without end. And seeing we hope
to partake with them, we should even here,
though in a lower key, and not so tunably
neither, yet as we may begin it : And upon
all occasions, our hearts should be often fol-
lowing in this sweet note, or offering at it,
To him be glory and dominion for ever.
VBR. 12. Beloved, think it not strange concerning
the fiery trial which is to try you, as thougli some
strange thing happened unto you :
YKR. 13. But rejoice, inasmuch as you are parta-
kers of Christ's sufferings ; that when his glory
shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with ex-
ceeding joy.
THIS fighting life, surely, when we con-
sider it aright, we need not be dissuaded
rom loving it, but have rather need to be
itrengthened with patience to go through,
and to fight on with courage and assurance
f victory ; still combating in a higher
VER. 12, 13. J
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
263
strength than our own, against sin within,
and troubles without. This is the great
scope of this epistle, and the Apostle often
interchanges his advices and comforts in re-
ference to these two. Against sin he in-
structs us in the beginning of this chapter,
and here again, against suffering, and both
in a like way ; and urges us to be armed,
armed with the same mind that was in Christ.
After the same manner in the mortifying of
sin, tee suffer icith him, as there he teaches,
ver. 1 . of this chapter ; and in the encounter-
ing of affliction we suffer with him, as here
we have it ; and so the same mind in the
same sufferings, will bring us to the same
issue. Beloved, think it not strange con-
cerning the fiery trial which is to try you,
&c. But rejoice, inasmuch as ye are par-
takers of Christ's sufferings ; that when
his glory shall be revealed, ye likewise may
be glad with exceeding joy.
The words to the end of the chapter con-
tain grounds of encouragement and consola-
tion for the children of God in sufferings,
especially in suffering for God.
These two verses have these two things :
1. The close conjunction of sufferings
with the estate of a Christian. 2. The due
composure of a Christian toward suffering.
1. The connexion of sufferings with the
estate of a Christian ; it is no new, and there-
fore no strange thing, that sufferings, hot
sufferings, fiery ones, be the companions of
religion ; besides the common miseries of hu-
man life, there is an accession of troubles
and hatreds for that holiness of life to which
the children of God are called.
It was the lot of the Church from her
wicked neighbours, and in the Church, the
most holy and peculiar servants of God from
the profane multitude. Woe is me, my
mother, (says Jeremiah,) thou hast born
me a man of contentions, Jer. xv. 10.
And of all the Prophets, says not our Saviour,
handling this same argument in his sermon,
So persecuted they the Prophets that were
before yon ? Matt. v. 12. And afterwards
tells them what they might look for, Be-
hold, says he, / send you forth as sheep
in the midst of wolves, Matt, x. 16. And,
in general, there is no following of Christ,
but with his badge and burden. Something
is to be left, we ourselves are to be left ;
whosoever will be my disciple, let him deny
himself; and somewhat to take; take up
my cross and follow me, Matt. xv. 24.
And doth not the Apostle give his scholars
this universal lesson, as an infallible truth,
all that will live godly in Christ Jesus
shall suffer persecution ? Look in the close
of that roll of believers conquering in suffer,
ing, what a cluster of sufferings and torture
you have, Heb. vi. 36, 37, &c. Thus in
the primitive times, the trial, and fiery trial,
even literally so, continued long ; these
wicked emperors hated the very innocency of
Christians : and the people, though they
knew their blameless carriage, yet when any
evil came, would pick this quarrel, and still
cry, Christianas ad leones.
Now this, if we look to inferior causes,
is not strange, the malignant ungodly world
hating holiness, hating the light, yea, the
very shadow of it ; and the more the children
of God walk like their Father, and their
home, the more unlike must they of necessity
become to the world about them ; and there-
fore become the very mark of all their enmi-
ties and malice.
And thus indeed the godly, though the
sons of peace, are the improper causes, the
occasion of much noise and disturbance in
the world, as their Lord, the Prince of
Peace, avows it openly of himself in that
sense, / came not to send peace, but a
stcord, to set a man at variance with his
father, and the daughter against the mo-
ther, &c. Matth. x. 34. If a son in a fa-
mily begin to inquire after God, and with-
draw from their profane or dead way, Oh !
what a clamour rises presently : Oh ! my
son, or daughter, or wife, is become a plain
fool, &c. And then is all done that may be,
to quell and vex them, and make their life
grievous to them.
The exact holy walking of a Christian
really condemns the world about him ; shews
the disorder and foulness of their profane
ways; and the life of religion set by the
side of dead formality, discovers it to be a
carcase and lifeless appearance ; and, for
this, neither grossly wicked, civil, nor for-
mal persons can well digest it. There is in
the life of a Christian a convincing light,
that shews the deformity of the works of
darkness, and a piercing heat, that scorches
the ungodly, which stirs and troubles their
consciences : This they cannot endure, and
hence rises in them a contrary fire of wicked
hatred ; and hence the trials, the fiery trials
of the ungodly. If they could get those
precise persons removed out of their way,
think the)', then they might have more
room, and live at more liberty, as it is, Rev.
xi. 10, a carousing, [xaaova-iv]. What a
dance there was about the dead bodies ot
the two witnesses ; the people and nations
rejoiced and made merry, and sent gifts
one to another, because these two Prophet*
tormented them that dwelt on the earth.
And from the same hearth, I mean the same
wrckedness of heart in the world, are the
fires of persecution kindled against the
saints in the world ; and the bonfires of joy
when they are rid of them.
And as this is an infernal fire of enmity
against God, it is blown by that spirit
whose element it is. Satan stirs up and
blows the coal, and raises the hatred of the
ungodly against Christians.
204
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP, iv
But while he and they, in whom he
powerfully works, are thus working for their
vile ends in the persecution of the saints,
HE that sovereignly orders all, is working
in the same his wise and gracious ends ;
and attains them, and makes the malice of
his enemies serve his ends, and undo their
own. It is true, that by the heat of perse-
cution, many are scared from embracing re-
ligion ; such as love themselves, and their
present ease, and others that seemed to have
embraced it, are driven to let it go and fall
from it ; but yet, when all is well computed,
it is still upon the gaining hand. Those
that reject it, or revolt from it, are such as
have no true knowledge of it, nor share in it,
nor in that happiness in which it ends ; but
they that are indeed united to Jesus Christ, do
cleave the closer to him, and seek to have their
hearts mora fastened to him,, because of these
trials, that they are, or likely may be, put to.
And in their victorious patience appears the
invincible power of religion where it hath once
gained the heart that it cannot be beaten nor
burnt out ; itself is a fire more mighty than
all the fires kindled against it. The love of
Christ conquers and triumphs in the hardest
sufferings of life, and in death itself.
And this hath been the means of kindling
it in other hearts which were strangers to it,
when they beheld the victorious patience of
the saints who conquered dying, as their
Head did ; who wearied their tormentors,
and triumphed over their cruelty by a con-
stancy far above it.
Thus, these fiery trials make the lustre of
faith appear most, as gold shines brightest
in the furnace : and if any dross be mixed
with it, it is refined and purged from it by
these trials, and so it remains by the fire
purer than before. And both these are in
the resemblance here intended ; that the fire
of sufferings is the advantage of believers,
both trying the excellency of faith, giving
evidence of it, what it is, and also purifying
it from earth and drossy mixtures, and mak-
ing it more excellently what it is ; raising
it to a higher pitch of refinedness and worth.
In these fires, as faith is tried, the word on
which faith relies is tried, and is found all
gold, most precious, no refuse in it. The
truth and sweetness of the promises are much
confirmed in the Christian's heart, upon his
experiment of them in his sufferings ; his
God is found to be as good as his word, be-
ing with him when he goes through the fire,
Isa. xliii. 2 ; preserving him, that he loseth
nothing except dross, which is a gainful loss,
leaving only of his corruption behind him.
Oh ! how much worth is it, and how doth
it endear the heart to God, to have found
him sensibly present in the times of trouble,
to have found him refreshing the soul with
One special advantage of these fires is the
purging of a Christian's heart from the love
of the world and of present things ; it is
true, the world at best is base and despi-
cable, in respect of the high estate and hopes
of a believer, yet still there is somewhat
within him, which would bend him down-
wards, and draw him to too much compla-
cency in outward things, if they were much
to his mind : Too kind usage might some-
times make him forget himself, and think
himself at home, at least so much, as not to
entertain these longings after home, and
that ardent progress homewards, that become
him : It -is good for us certainly to find
hardship, enmities, and contempts here, and
to find them frequent that we may not think
them strange, but ourselves strangers, and
think it were strange, for us to be otherwise
entertained. This keeps the affections more
clear and disengaged, sets them upward.
Thus the Lord makes the world displeasing
to his own, that they may turn in to him,
and seek all their consolations in himself:
Oil ! unspeakable advantage.
2. The composure of a Christian in, re-
ference to sufferings, is prescribed in these
two following, resolving, and rejoicing: 1.
Resolving to endure them, reckoning that
he shall meet with them, think it not
strange,
; 2. Rejoicing in them,
i, be glad inasmuch, &c.
Be not strangers in it.] Which yet
naturally we would be : We are willing to
hear of peace and ease, and would gladly
believe what we extremely desire. It is a
tiling of prime concern to take at first a
right notion of Christianity, which many do
not, and so either fall off quickly, or walk
on slowly and heavily ; do not reckon right
the cost, take not into the account the du-
ties of doing and suffering ; but think to
perform some duties, if they may with ease,
and have -no other foresight ; they do not
consider that self-denial, that fighting against
man's self, and vehemently with the world,
these trials, fiery trials, which a Christian
must encounter with. As they observe of
other points, Popery is this, is very com-
pliant with nature, which is a very bad sign
n religion ; we would be content it were
true that the true Church of Christ had ra-
ther prosperity and pomp for her badge than
the Cross, much ease and riches, and few or
crosses, except they were painted and
gilded crosses, such as that church hatli
chosen, instead of real ones.
Most men would give religion a fair
countenance, if it gave them fair weather ;
and they that do indeed acknowledge Christ
:o be the Son of God, as St. Peter did,
Matt. xvi. 22, 23, yet are naturally as un-
willing as he was to hear the hard news of
o --— — .......
dews of spiritual comfort, in the midst of suffering; and if their advice might have
live flames of fiery trial ! [place, would readily be of his mindi Be it
VER. 12, 13.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
far from the Lord. His good confession
was not, but this kind advice was, from
Jlesh and blood, and from an evil spirit, as
the sharp answer tells, Get thee behind me,
Satan, thou art an offence unto me.
You know what kind of a Messiah the
Jews generally dreamed of, and therefore
took offence at the meanness and sufferings
of Christ, expecting an earthly king, and
an outward flourishing state ; and the dis-
ciples themselves, after they had been long
with him, were still in that same dream,
when they were contesting about imaginary
places ; yea, they were scarce well out of it,
even after his suffering and death ; all the
noise and trouble of that had not well awak-
ed them, Luke xxiv. 21, We trusted it had
been He which should have restored Israel.
And, after all that we have read and
heard of ancient times, and of Jesus Christ
himself, his sufferings in the flesh, and of
his Apostles and saints, from one age to
another, yet still we have our inclinations to
this, of driving troubles far ofF irom our
thoughts, till they come upon our backs,
and fancy nothing but rest and ease, till we
be shaken rudely out of it.
How have we of late flattered ourselves,
many of us one year after another, upon
slight appearances ? Oh ! now it will be
peace, and, behold, still trouble hath increas-
ed, and these thoughts have proved the ly-
ing visions of our own hearts, while the Lord
hath not spoken it, Ezek. xiii. 7- And
thus of late, have we thought it at hand,
and taken ways of our own to hasten it :
That, I fear, will prove fool's haste, as
you say.
You that know the Lord, seek to him
earnestly for the averting of further troubles
and combustions ; which, if you look aright,
you will see do threaten us as much as ever :
And withal, seek hearts, prepared and fixed
for days of trial, fiery trial ; yea, though
we did obtain some breathing of our outward
peace, yet shall not the followers of Christ
want their trials from the hatred of the un-
godly world. If it persecuted me, (says he),
it will also persecute you, John xv. 20.
Acquaint therefore your thoughts and
hearts with sufferings, that when they come,
you and they, not being strangers, may agree
and comply the better. Do not afflict your-
selves with vain fears before-hand, of trou-
bles to come, and so make uncertain evils a
certain vexation by anticipation ; but rather
forethink the hardest trial you may probably
be put to, for the name and cause of Christ,
and labour for a holy stability of mind, for
encountering it, if it should come upon you :
Things certainly fall the lighter on us, when
they fall first upon our thoughts. In this
way, indeed, of an imagined suffering, the
conquest beforehand may be but imaginary,
and thou mayest fail in the trial : Therefore
2fJ5
be still humble, and depend on the sfrength
of Christ, and seek to be previously furnished
with much distrust of thyself, and much
trust in him, with much denial of thyself,
and much love to him ; and this preparing
and training of the heart may prove useful,
and make it more dexterous, when brought
to a real conflict : In all, both beforehand,
and in time of the trial, make thy Lord Jesus
'all thy strength ; that is our only way in all
to be conquerors, to be more than conquerors,
through him that loved us, Rom. viii. 3.
Think it not strange, for it is not ; suit
your thoughts to the experience and verdict
of all times, and to the warnings that the
Spirit of God in the Scriptures, and our Sa-
viour himself hath given us from his own
mouth, and in the example which he shewed
in his own person. But the point goes higher.
Rejoice ; though we think not the suffer-
ings strange, yet may we not well think that
rule somewhat strange, to rejoice in them ?
No, it will be found as reasonable as the
other, being duly considered : And it rests
upon the same ground, which is well able to
bear both, Inasmuch as you are partakers
of the sufferings of Christ.
If the children of God consider not their
trials in their natural bitterness, but in the
sweet love from whence they spring, and the
sweet fruits th,at spring from them ; that we
are cur Lord's gold, and he tries us in the fur-
nacs to purify us, (as in the former verse,)
this may beget not only patience, but glad-
ness even in the sufferings. But add we
this, and truly it completes the reason of this
way in our saddest sufferings, that in them
we are partakers of the sufferings of Christ.
So then, 1. Consider this twofold connect-
ed participation of the sufferings of Christ,
and of the after-glory. 2. The present joy
even in sufferings springing from that par-
ticipation.
I need not tell you, that this communion
in sufferings is not in point of expiation, or
satisfaction to divine justice, which was the
peculiar end of the sufferings of Christ per-
sonal, not of the common sufferings of Christ
mystical : he bare our sins in his own body
on the tree, 1 Pet. ii. 24, and in bearing
them, took them away ; we bear his suffer-
ings as his body united to him by his Spirit.
Those sufferings that were his personal bur.
den, we partake the sweet fruits of ; they are
accounted ours, and we acquitted by them ;
but the endurance of them was his high and
incommunicable task, in which none at all
were with him ; our communion in these,
as fully completed by himself in his natural
body, is the ground of our comfort and joy
in these sufferings that are completed in his
mystical body, the Church.
This is indeed our joy, that we have so
light a burden, so sweet an exohange, the
weight of sin auite taken off our backs, and
266
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. rv.
nil bound on his cross only, and our crosses,
the badges of our conformity to him, laid in-
deed on our shoulders, but the great weight
of them likewise held up by his hand, that
they overpress us not. These fires of our
trial may be corrective, and purgative of the
remaining power of sin, and they are so in-
tended ; but Jesus Christ alone in the suf-
ferings of his own cross, was the burnt-offer-
ing, the propitiation for our sins.
Now, although he hath perfectly satisfied
for us, and saved us by his sufferings ; yet
this conformity with him in the way of sus-
fering is most reasonable. As our holiness
doth not stand in point of law, nor come in
at all in the matter of justifying us, yet we
are called and appointed to holiness in Christ,
as assimilating us to him our glorious Head ;
and we do really receive it from him, that
we may be like him ; so these our sufferings
bear a very congruous likeness with him,
though not as an accession to his in expiation,
yet as a part of his image ; and therefore the
Apostle says, even in this respect, that we
are predestinate to be conformed to the
image of his Son, Rom. viii. 29. Is it fit
that we should not follow, where our Captain
led, and went first, but that he should lead
through ragged thorny ways, and we pass
about to get away through flowery meadows ?
As his natural body shared witli his head
in his sufferings, so ought his mystical to
share with him, as its Head. Consider the
buffetings and spittings on his face, and
thorny crown on his head, a pierced side,
nailed hands and feet ; and if we be parts
of him, can we think that a body finding no-
thing but ease, and bathing in delights, can
be truly united to a Head so tormented ? I
remember what that pious Duke is said to
have declared at Jerusalem, when they of-
fered to crown him king there ; " I will have
no crown of gold where Christ Jesus was
crowned with thorns."*
This is the way we must follow, or else
resolve to leave him ; the way of the cross
is the royal way to the crown. He said it,
and put them in mind of it again, that they
might take the deep impression of it : lie-
member what I said unto you, the servant is
not greater than the Lord : If they have
persecuted me, they will also persecute you :
If they have kept my saying, they will keep
yours also, John xv. 20. And particularly
in point of reproaches, // they called the
Master Beelzebub, how much more shall
they call them of his household 9 Matt. x.
24. A bitter scoff, an evil name, reproaches
for Christ, why do these fret thee ? they were
a part of thy Lord's entertainment while he
was here, thou art =even in this a partaker
of his sufferings ; and in this way is he
bringing thee forward to the partakin"- of his
glory : That is the other thing.
» Nolo auronm, ubi Christus spineam.
When his glory shall be revealed.] Now
lie is hid, little of his glory is seen : it was
hid while he was on earth, and now it is nid
in heaven, where he is, and for his body here,
his Church, it hath no pompous dress, nor
outward splendour ; and the particular parts
of it, the saints, are poor despised creatures,
the very refuse of men in outward respects
and common esteem ; so he himself is not
seen, and his followers, the more they are
seen and looked on by the world's eye, the
more meanness appears : As in the days of
his humiliation, some rays were breaking
forth through the veil of his flesh, and cloud
of his low despicable condition ; thus is it
with his followers, sometimes a glance of his
image strikes the very eye of the world, and
forces some acknowledgment and a kind of
reverence in the ungodly : But commonly
Christ and his followers are covered with all
the disgraces and ignominies the world can
put on them. But there is a day wherein he
will appear, and it is at hand ; and then he
shall be glorious, even in his despised saints,
and admired in them that believe, 2 Thess.
i. 10, how much more in the matchless
brightness of his own glorious person !
In the mean time he is hid, and they are
hid in him ; our life is hid with Christ in
God, Colos. iii. 3. The world sees nothing
of his glory and beauty, and even his own
see not much here, they have but a little
glimmering of him, and their own happiness
in him ; know little of their own high con-
dition, and what they are born to. But in
that bright day he shall shine forth in his
royal dignity, and every eye shall see him,
Rev. i. 7, and be overcome with his splen-
dour ; terrible shall it be to those that for-
merly despised him and his saints ; but to
them the gladdest day that ever arose upon
them, a day that shall never set or be be-
nighted ; the day they so much longed
and looked out for, the full accomplishment
of all their hopes and desires. Oh ! how
dark were all our days without the hope of
this day !
Then, says the Apostle, ye shall rejoice
with exceeding joy r and to the end you may
not fell short of that joy in the participation
of glory, fall not back from a cheerful pro-
gress in the communion of these sufferings
that are so closely linked with it, and will so
surely lead unto it, and end in it ; for in this
:he Apostle's expression, this glory and joy
is set before them, as the great matter of
their desires and hopes, and the certain end
of their present sufferings.
Now upon these grounds the admonition
will appear reasonable, and not too great a
demand, to rejoice even in the sufferings.
It is true, that passage in the Epistle to
:he Heb. xii. 11, opposes present affliction
:o joy. But, 1. If you mark, it is but in
the appearance or outward visage, it seemeth
VER. 12, 13. J
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
207
not to be matter of joy but of grief. To
look to it, it hath not a smiling countenance,
yet joy may be under it. And, 2. Though
to the flesh it is, what it seems, grief, and
not joy, yet there may be under it spiritual
joy ; yea, the affliction itself may help and
advance that joy. 3. Through the natural
sense of it, there will be some alloy or mix-
ture of grief, so that the joy cannot be
pure and complete, but yet there may be joy
even in it. This the Apostle here clearly
grants, rejoice now in suffering, that you may
rejoice exceedingly after it, ayuM-iufttvai,
leaping for joy ; Doubtless this joy, at pre-
sent, is but a little parcel, a drop of that sea
of joy. Now it is joy, but more reserved ;
then they shall leap for joy, Luke vi. 23.
Yet, even at present, rejoice in trial, yea,
injiery trial. This is possible; the chil-
dren of God are not called to so bad a life
as the world imagines ; besides what is laid
up for them in heaven, they have, even here,
their rejoicings and songs in their distresses,
as those prisoners had their psalms, even at
midnight, after their stripes, and in their
chains, Acts xvi. 25, before they knew of a
sudden deliverance : True, there may be a
darkness within, clouding all the matter of
their joy ; but even that darkness is the seed-
time of after joy, and light is sown in that
darkness, and shall spring up ; and not only
Shall they have a rich crop at full harvest,
but even some first fruits of it here, in pledge
of the harvest. •
And this they ought to expect, and seek
after with minds humble and submissive, as
to the measure and time of it, that they may
be partakers of spiritual joy, and may by it
be enabled to go patiently, yea, cheerfully,
through the tribulations and temptations that
be in their way homeward ; and for this end
ought they to endeavour after a more clear
discerning of their interest in Christ, that
they may know they partake of him, and so
in suffering, are partakers of his sufferings,
and shall be partakers of his glory.
Many afflictions will not cloud and obstruct
this so much as one sin; therefore, • if ye
would walk cheerfully, be most careful to
walk holily. All the winds about the earth
make not an earthquake, but that within its
bowels.
Now this joy is grounded on this com-
munion ; 1. In sufferings ; then, 2. In
glory. 1. Even in sufferings themselves :
It is a sweet joyful thing to be a sharer with
Christ in any thing ; all enjoyments wherein
he is not, are bitter to a soul that loves him,
and all sufferings with him sweet. The
worst things of Christ, are more truly delight-
ful than the best things of the world ; his
afflictions sweeter than their pleasures ; his
reproaches more glorious than their honours,
and more rich than their treasures, as Moses
accounted them, Heb. xi. 26. Love delights
in likeness and communion, not only in
things otherwise pleasant, but in the hardest
and harshest things, which have not any thing
in them desirable, but only that likeness :
So that this thought is very sweet to a heart
possessed with this love. What does the
world by its hatred and persecutions, and
rerilings for Christ, but make me more like
him, give me a greater share with him, in
that which he did so willingly undergo for
me ? When he was sought to be made a
king, he escaped : but when he was sought
to the cross, he freely yielded himself , Bern.
And shall I shrink and creep back from what
he calls me to suffer for his sake ; yea, even
all my other troubles and sufferings, I will
desire to have stamped thus, with this con-
formity to the sufferings of Christ, in the
humble, obedient, cheerful endurance of then?,
and the giving up my will to my father's.
The following of Christ makes any way
pleasant ; his faithful followers refuse no
march after him, be it through deserts, and
mountains, and storms, and hazards, that
will affright self pleasing easy spirits : Hearts
kindled and actuated with the Spirit of Christ,
will follow him wheresoever he goeth.
As he speaks it, for warning his disciples,
// they persecuted me, they will persecute
you ; so he speaks it for comforting them,
and sufficient comfort it is, // they hate you,
they hated me before you, John xv. 18, 20.
2. Then add the other; sse whither it
tends, He shall be revealed in his glory,
and ye shall even overflow with joy in the
partaking of that glory. Therefore rejoice
now in the midst of all your sufferings ; stand
upon the advanced ground of the promises
and Covenant of Grace, and by faith look
beyond this moment, and all that is in it, to
that day wherein everlasting joy shall be
upon your heads, a crown of it, and sorrow
and mourning shall fly away, Isa. li. 11.
Believe this day, and the victory is won.
Oh ! that blessed hope, well affixed and ex-
ercised, would give other manner of spirits :
What zeal for God would it not inspire ?
What invincible courage against all encoun-
ters ? How scon will this pageant of the
world vanish, that men are gazing on, these
pictures and fancies of pleasures and ho-
nours, falsely so called, and give place to the
real glory of the sons of God, when this
blessed Son, who is God, shall be seen ap-
pearing in full majesty, and all his brethren
in glory with him, all clothed in their robes ?
And if you ask, Who are they ? Why,
these are they that came out of great tribu-
lation, and washed their robes in the blood
of the Lamb, Rev. vii. 14.
VKR. 14. If ye be reproached for the name of Christ,
happy are ye; for the spirit of glory and of God
resteih upon you : On their part he is evil spoken
of, but on your part he is glorified.
VE R. 15. But let none of you suffer as a murderer.
?C8
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAI-.
or as a thief, or as an evil-doer, or as a busy-bod
in other men's matters. .
VFR. 10. Vet if any man suffer as a Christian, le
him not be ashamed ; but let him glorify God on
this behalf.
THE Word is the Christian's magazine
fcoth of instructions and encouragements, for
doing or suffering, and this epistle is rich in
both. Here, what the Apostle had said con-
cerning suffering in general, he specifies in
the particular case of suffeiing reproaches ;
but this expression seems not to come up to
the height of that which he hath used before ;
he spoke of fiery trial, but this of reproach
seems rather fit to be called an airy trial,
the blast of vanishing words. Yet, upon
trial, it will be found to be, (as here it is ac
counted,) a very sharp, a fiery trial.
First, then, let us take a view of this par-
ticular kind of suffering. And, 2%, Of the
comfort and advice furnished against it.
If we consider both the nature of the thing
and the strain of the Scriptures, we will find
that reproaches are amongst the sharpest sort
of sufferings, and are indeed fiery trials.
The tongue is a fire, says St. James iii. 6,
and reproaches are the flashes of that fire ;
they are a subtle kind of flame, like that
lightning which, as naturalists say, crusheth
the bones, and yet breaks not the flesh ; they
wound not the body, as do tortures and whips,
but, through a whole skin, they reach the
spirit of a man, and cut it. So Psalm xlii.
10, As with a sword in my bones mine ene-
mies reproach me. The fire of reproaches
preys upon and dries up the precious oint-
ment, to which Solomon compares a good
name, Eccles. vii. 1. A good name is in
itself a good, a prime outward good ; and,
take us according to our natural temper and
apprehensions, (according to which we feel
things,) most men are, and some more ex-
cessively, too tender and delicate in it. Al-
though, truly, I take it rather to be a weak-
ness than true greatness of spirit, as many
fancy it, to depend much on the opinion of
others, and feel it deep, yet, I say, consider-
ing that it is commonly thus with men, and
that the remains of this, as of other frailties,
are to be found in the children of God, it
cannot well be but reproaches will ordinarily
much afflict men, and to some kind of spirits,
possibly, will be more grievous than great
bodily pain or suffering.
And as they are thus, the Scripture ac-
counts them so, and very usually reckons
them amongst sufferings, and names them
rather more than any other kind of suffering,
and that with good reason, not only for their
piercing nature, (as we have said,) but with,
al for their frequency and multitude ; and
some things we suffer do (as flies) more trou-
ble by their number than by their weight.
Now, there is no one kind of suffering,
of such constancy, and commonness, and
abundance, as reproaches are. When other
persecutions cease, yet those continue ; when
all other fires of martyrdom are put out, these
burn still. In all times and places, the malig-
nant world is ready to revile religion ; not only
avowed enemies of it do so, but the greatest
part even of those that make a vulgar profes-
sion of it : They that outwardly receive the
form of religion, yet are many of them in-
wardly haters of the power of it, 2 Tim. iii.
5 ; and Christians, who are such only in
name, will scorn and reproach those that are
Christians indeed.
And this is done with such ease by every
one, that these arrows fly thick ; every one
that hath a tongue can shoot them, even bass
objects, Psal. 'xxxv. 15 ; and the drunkards
make songs, as Jeremiah complains ; the
meanest sort can reach this point of persecu-
tion, and be active in it against the children
of God : They that cannot, or dare not,
offer them any other injury, will not fear, nor
spare, to let fly a taunt or bitter word ; so
that whereas other sufferings are rarer, these
meet them daily, Psal. xlii. 10, While they
say daily unto me, Where is thy God ?
We see how justly reproaches are often
mentioned amongst, and beyond other trials,
and accounted persecution, Matt. v. 10, 11.
Blessed are ye when men shall revile you,
and persecute you, and shall say all man.
<ier of evil against you falsely, for my sake.
In the history of the casting out Hagar and
iier son, Gen. xxi. 9, all we find laid to Ish-
mael's charge was, Sarah saw him mocking.
And as he that was born after the Jiesh diil
then in this manner persecute him that was
born after the Spirit, Gal. iv. 29, even so it
s now. And thus are reproaches mentioned
amongst the sufferings of Christ in the gospel,
•md not as the least ; the railings and mock-
ngs that were darted at him, and fixed to
the cross, are mentioned more than the very
nails that fixed him. And, Heb. xii. 2, the
shame of the cross, though he was above it,
and despised it, yet that shame added much
:o the burden of it ; so ver. 3. He endured
the contradiction of sinners.
Now, the other thing is, that this is the
ot of Christians, as it was with Christ ; and
why should they look for more kindness and
letter usage, and think to find acclamations
and applauses from the world, that so vilified
heir Lord ? Oh, no ! The vain heart must
>e weaned from these to follow Christ, if we
will indeed follow him ; it must be tamed lo
share with him in this point of suffering, not
inly mistakes and misconstructions, but bit-
er scoffings and reproaches. Why should
lot our minds ply and fold to this upon that
rery reason, which he so reasonably presses
again and again on his disciples, The ser-
'ant is not g renter than Jiis master : (and
when giving them express warning to lay
heir account with reproaches,) If they called
he Master Beelzebub, how much more will
VEK. 14— 1C.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
they speak so of (he servants ? Matt. x. I heedy, nor self-trilled, no, not in the bctrt
thing ; walk not upon the utter brink and
hedge of your liberty, for then you shall be
in danger of over-passing it ; things that are
24. 25.
Infer. 1. Seeing it is thus, I shall first
press upon the followers of Christ, the Apo-
stle's rule here, to keep their sufferings spot-
less, that it may not be comfortless ; resolve
to endure it, but resolve, likewise, that it
shall be on your part innocent suffering ; suf-
fer not as evil-doers, ver. 15. Besides that,
the ways of wickedness are most unsuitable
to your holy calling : look to the enmity about
you, and gain, even out of that evil, this
great good, of more circumspect and holy
walking : recollect who you are, and where
you are, your own weakness and the world's
wickedness. This our Saviour represents,
and upon it gives that suitable rule, Behold
I send you forth as sheep in the midst of
wolves ; be ye therefore wise as serpents,
and harmless as doves," Matt. x. 10'. Know
you not what exact eyes of others are upon
you ? Will you not thence learn, exactly to
eye yourselves, and all your ways, and seek
of God, with David, to be led in righteous-
ness, because of your enemies, your observ-
ers ? Psal. xxvii. 11.
This is the rule here, ver. 1(J, suffer as
Christians, holily and blamelessly, that the
enemy may not know where to fasten his
hold : As the wrestlers anointed their bodies,
that the hands of their antagonists might not
fasten upon them ; thus, truly, they that
walk and suffer as Christians anointed with
the Spirit of Christ, their enemies cannot well
fasten their hold, upon them.
To you, therefore, that love the Lord
Jesus, I recommend this especially, to be
careful, that all your reproaches may be in-
deed for Christ, and not for any thing in you
unlike to Christ, that there be nothing save
the matter of your rod ; keep the quarrel as
clean and unmixed as you can, and this will
advantage you much, both within and with-
out, in the peace and firmness of your minds,
and in the refutation of your enemies. This
will make you as a brazen wall, as the Lord
speaks to the Prophet, they shall Jight
against you, but shall not prevail, Jer.
xv. 20.
Keep
far off from all •impure unholy
ways ; suffer not as evil doers, no, nor as
busy-bodies ; be much at home, setting
things at rights within your own breast,
where there is so much work, and such
daily need of diligence, and then you will
find no leisure for unnecessary idle pry-
ings into the ways and affairs of others ; and
further than your calling, and the rules of
Christian charity, engage you, you will not
interpose in any matters without you, nor be
found proud and censorious, as the world is
ready to call you.
2. Shun the appearance of evil ; walk
warily and prudently in all things ; be not
* Prudens simvliuita'
lawful may be inexpedient, and in case there
is fear of scandal, ought either to be wholly
forborne, or used with much prudence and
circumspection. Oh ! study in all things
to adorn the gospel, and under a sense of
your own unskilfulness and folly, beg wis-
dom from above, that anointing, that will
teach you all things, much of that holy
Spirit, that will lead you in the way of all
truth, John. xvi. 13, and then in that way,
whatsoever may befal you, suffer it, and
however you may be vilified and reproached,
happy are you, for the Spirit of fflory and
of God resteth upon you.
Infer. 2. But if such as are thus re-
proached be happy, then, certainly, their
reproachers are no less unhappy ; if on
those resteth the Spirit of glory and of
God, what spirit is in these but the spirit of
Satan, and of shame and vileness ? Who
is the basest and most contemptible kind of
person in the world ? truly, I think an
avowed contemner and mocker of holiness.
Shall any such be found amongst us ?
I charge you all in this name of Christ,
that you do not entertain godless prejudices
against the people of God. Let not your
ears be open to, nor your hearts close with,
the calumnies and lies, that may be flying
abroad of them and their practices, much
less open your mouths against them, or let
any disgraceful word be heard from you :
And when you meet with undeniable real
frailties, know the law of love, and practise
it : Think, " this is blame-worthy, yet let
me not turn it to the reproach of those per-
sons, who, notwithstanding, may be sincere,
much less to the reproach of other persons
professing religion, and then cast it upon
religion itself."
My brethren, beware of sharing with the
ungodly in this tongue-persecution of Chris-
tians. There is a day at hand wherein the
Lord will make inquiry after those things ;
if we shall be made accountable for idle-
words (as we are warned Matt. xii. 36',) how
much more for bitter malicious words uttered
against any, especially against the saints of
God, whom, however the world may reckon,
he esteems his precious ones, his treasure.
You that now can look on them with a
scornful eye, which way shall you look when
they shall be beautiM and glorious, and all
the ungodly clothed with shame ? Oh ! do
not reproach them, but rather come in and
share with them in the way of holiness, ani
in all the sufferings and reproaches which
follow it : For if you partake of their dis-
graces, you shall share in glory with them,
in the day of their Lord's appearing.
The words have two things, The evil of
270
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP, iv
these reproaches supposed, and the good ex
pressed. The evil supposed is, that they
are trials, and hot trials : Of this I have
spoken already. Let us now,
2dly, Consider the good expressed : Ye an
happy, even at present, in the very midst o:
them ; they do not trouble your happy es-
tate, yea, they advance it.
So very solid indeed is the happiness o
the saints, that, in the lowest condition, if
remains the sanre : Cast them where you
will, into disgraces, or caves, into prisons
and chains, still they are happy : A dia-
mond in the mire, sullied and trampled on,
yet still retains its own worth.
But this is more, that the very things
that seem to make them miserable, do not
only not do that, but. on the contrary, do
make them the more happy ; they are
gainers by their losses, and attain more li-
berty by their thraldoms, and more honour
by their disgraces, and more peace by their
troubles : The world, and all their enemies,
are exceedingly befooled in striving against
them ; not only can they not undo them,
but by all their enmity and practices, they
do them pleasure, and raise them higher ;
with what weapons shall they fight ? How
shall a Christian's enemy set upon him ?
Where shall they hit him, seeing all the
wrongs they do him, do indeed enrich and
ennoble him ; and the more he is depressed,
he flourishes the more ; certainly the bless-
edness of a Christian is matchless and in-
vincible.
But how holds this, that a Christian
happy in reproaches and by them 9 It
not through their nature and virtue, for they
are evil, so Matt. v. 12; but (1.) By rea-
son of the cause. (2.) Of the accompanying
and subsequent comfort.
First, the cause. We have it negatively,
ver. 15, not as an evil-doer, that stains thy
holy profession, damps thy comfort, clouds
thy happiness, disprofits thee, and dishonours
thy Lord. We have it also positively, ver.
14, 16, for the name of Christ ; and what
is there so rough, which that will not make
pleasant, to suffer with Christ and for
Christ, who suffered so much and so wil-
lingly for thee ? Hath he not gone through
all before thee, and made all easy and love-
ly ? Hath he not sweetened poverty, and
persecution, and hatred, and disgraces, and
death itself, perfumed the grave, and turned
it from a pit of horror into a sweet resting
bed ? And thus the love of Christ judgeth,
it thinks all lovely which is endured for
him, is glad, to meet with difficulties, and
ambitious of suffering for. him : Scorn and
contempt is a thing of hard digestion ; but
much inward heat of love digests it easily ;
reproaches are bitter, but the reproaches of
Christ are sweet. Take their true value,
Jtleb. xi. 20, The reproaches of Christ are
greater riches than the treasures of Egypt ,
his very worst things are better than the
best of the world. A touch of Christ turns
all into gold ; .his reproaches are riches, as
there, and honour, as here : Not only shall
ye be happy afterwards, but happy are ye at
present, and that not only in apprehension
of that after happiness, as sure and as al-
ready present, faith realizing it ; but even
for that they possess the presence and com-
forts of the Spirit.
For the Spirit of glory.] This accom-
panies disgraces for him ; his Spirit, the Spi-
rit of glory and of God ; with your suffer-
ings goes the name of Christ, and the Spirit
of 'Christ : Take them thus, when reproaches
are cast upon you for his name, do you bear
them by his Spirit ? And surely his Spirit
is most fit to support you under them, yea,
to raise you above them ; they are ignomi-
nious and inglorious, he is the Spirit of
glory ; they are human reproaches, he the
divine Spirit, the Spirit of glory and of
God, that is, the glorious Spirit of God.
And this is the advantage, the less the
Christian finds esteem and acceptance in th_>
world, the more he turns his eye inward, to
see what is there, and there he finds tli3
world's contempt counterpoised by a weight
of excellency and glory, even in this present
condition, as the pledge of the glory before
him. The reproaches be fiery ; but tin
Spirit of glory resteth upon you, doth njt
give you a passing visit, but stays within
you, and is indeed yours. And in this the
Christian can take comfort, and let the foul
weather blow over, let all the scoffs, and
contempts abroad, pass as they come, hav-
ing a glorious Spirit within, such a guest
honouring him with his presence, abode,
and sweet fellowship, and indeed one with
him. So that rich miser at Athens could
say, when they scorned him in the streets,
he went home to his bags, and hugs himself
there at that sight, say what they would.*
How much more reasonably may the Chris-
tian say, " Let them revile and bark, I have
riches and honour enough that they see not."
And this it is that makes the world, as they
are a malicious party, so to be an incompe-
tent judge of the Christian's estate. They
see the rugged unpleasant outside only, the
right inside their eye cannot reach. We
were miserable indeed, were our comforts
such as they could see.
And as this is the constant estate of a
Christian, it is usually most manifested to
lim in the time of his greatest sufferings.
Then (as we sard) he naturally turns inward
and sees it most, and accordingly finds it
nost. God making this happy supplement
and compensation, that when they have
east of the world, they have most of him-
Populus me sibil.-tt ; at mihi plautto
»•!—• domi, simul ac nummos contcinplor in area.
VER. 14—16.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
27)
self; when they are most covered with the
world's disfavour, his favour shines brightest
to them. As 31oses, when he was in the
cloud, had nearest access and speech with
God ; so when the Christian is most cloud-
ed with distresses and disgraces, then doth
the Lord often shew himself most clearly
to him.
If you be indeed Christians, you will not
be so much thinking at any time, how you
may be free from all sufferings and despis-
ings ; but rather how you may go strongly
and cheerfully through them. Lo, here is
the way, seek a real and firm interest in
Chris't, and the participation of Christ's
Spirit, and then a look to him will make all
easy and delightful. Thou wilt be ashamed
within thyself, to start back, or yield one
foot, at the encounter of a taunt or reproach
for him. Thou wilt think, " for whom is
it, is it not for him, who for my sake hid
not his face from shame and spitting ? and
further, he died ; now, how would I meet
death for him, if I shrink at the blast of a
scornful word ?"
Jf you would know whether this his Spi-
rit is and resteth in you, it cannot be better
known, than, 1. By that very love, ardent
love, to him, and high esteem of him ; and
from thence a willingness, yea, a gladness,
to suffer any thing for him. 2. This Spirit
of Glory sets the heart on glory. True
glory makes heavenly things excellent in
our thoughts, and sets the world, the better
and worse, the honour and dishonour of it,
at a low rate.
The spirit of the world is a base ignoble
spirit, even the highest pitch of if. Those
that are projecting for kingdoms, form but
poor designs, compared to those of the
Christian, who ascends above all things
under the sun, and above the sun itself, and
therefore he is not shaken with the threats
of the world, nor taken with its offers. Ex-
cellent is that answer St. Basil gives, in the
person of those martyrs, to that emperor,
who made them (as he thought) great prof-
fers to draw them off: " Why," say they,
" dost thou bid us so low as pieces of the
world ? we have learned to despise it all."
This is not stupidity, nor an affected stout-
ness of spirit, but a humble sublimity,
which the natural spirit of a man cannot
reach unto.
But wilt thou still say, " This stops me,
I do not find this Spirit in me ; if I did,
then I think I could be willing to suffer any
thing." To this, for the present, I say
only, Dost thou desire that Christ may be
glorified, and couldst thou be content, though
it were by thy suffer ag in any kind, thou
niayest be called tc jiidergo for him ? Art
thou willing to give up thy own interest, to
study and follow Christ's, and sacrifice thine
own credit and name, to advance his ? Art
thou unwilling to do any thing tha* may
dishonour him ? Art thou willing to suffer
any thing that may honour him, or desirest
thou to be thus ? Then dispute not, but
up and walk on in his strength.
Now, if any say, " but his name is dis-
honoured by these reproaches ;" true, says
the Apostle, on their part it is so, but
not on yours. They that reproach you do
their best to reflect on Christ and his cause,
but this it is only on their part : You are
sufferers for his name, and so you glorify
it : Your faith, and patience, and victory
by these, do declare the power of divine
grace, and the efficacy of the gospel. They
have made torturers ashamed, and induced
some beholders to share with those who were
tortured. Thus, though the profane world
intends, as far as it can, to fix dishonour
upon the profession of Christ, yet it sticks
not, but on the contrary, he is glorified by
your constancy
And as the ignominy fastens not, but the
glory from the endurance, so Christians are
obliged, and certainly are ready, according
to the Apostle's zeal, ver. 1C, to glorify
God on this behalf; that as he is glorified
in them, so they may glorify and bless him
who hath dignified us so ; that whereas we
might have been left to a sad sinking task,
to have suffered for various guilts, our God
hath changed the tenor and nature of our
sufferings, and makes them to be for the
name of Christ.
Thus a spiritual mind doth not swell oiv
a conceit of constancy and courage, which is
the readiest way of self-undoing, but acknow-
ledges all to be gift, even suffering, To you
it is given not only to believe, but to suffer,
and so to bless him, on that behalf, Phil,
i. 29. Oh ! this love grows in suffering ;
so Acts v. 41, They icent au-ay, rejoicing
that they were counted worthy to suffer
shame for his name.
Consider, it is but a short while, and the
wicked and their scoffs shall vanish ; they
shall not be. This shame is of short date,
and will presently be over ; but the glory,
and Spirit of Glory, are eternal. What
thougli thou shouldest be poor, and defam-
ed, and despised, and be the common mark
of scorn and all injuries ; yet the end of them
all is at hand. This is now thy part, the
scene shall be changed. Kings here, real
ones, are in the deepest reality but stage
kings ; but when thou comest to alter the per-
son thou now bearest, here is the odds, thou
wast a fool in appearance, and for a moment,
but thou shalt be truly a king for ever.
VER. 17. For the time is come, that judgment must
begin at the house of God ; and if it first begin at
us, what shall the end be of them that obey not the
gospel of God ?
THERE is not only perfect equity, but
also a comely proportion and beauty in all
272
A COMMENTARV UPON
[CHAT, iv
the ways of God, had we eyes sufficiently j malice of Satan, and the ungodly world,
open to discern, particularly in this point of acted and stirred by him against the purity
the sufferings and afflictions of the Church.
The Apostle here sets it before his brethren,
For the time is come, &c.
Where is, 1st, A parallel of the Lord's
dealing with his own and with the wicked,
ver. 17, 18. 2. A persuasion of due com-
pliance and confidence in his own upon that
consideration.
The parallel is in the order, and the
measure of punishing ; and it is so, that,
for the order, it begins at the house oj
God, ends upon the ungodly ; and that car-
ries in it this great difference in the mea-
sure, that it passes from the one on
whom it begins, and rests on the other on
whom it ends, and on whom the full weight
of it lies for ever. It is so expressed, What
shall be the end, &c. which imports not
only that judgment shall overtake them in
the end, but that it shall be their end ; they
shall end in it, and shall be endless upon
them.
The time is.] Indeed the whole time of
this present life is so ; it is the time of suf-
fering and purging for the Church, com-
passed with enemies who will afflict her,
and subject to these impurities which need
affliction. The children of God are in their
under-age here ; all their time they are chil-
dren, and have their frailties and childish
follies : And therefore, though they are not
always under the stroke of the rod, for that
they were not able to endure, yet they are
under the discipline and use of the rod all
their time. And whereas the wicked es-
cape, till the day of full payment, the
children of God are in this life chastised
with frequent afflictions, and so the time
[o
may be here taken according as
vuv KIOU
^OU,
The
the Apostle St. Paul uses the same word,
Horn. viii. 10, V^^ara TOU vu
sufferings of this present time.
But withal it is true, and appears to be
here implied, that there are particular set
times, which the Lord chooses for correcting
of his Church. Jle hath the days prefixed
and written in his ephemeris, hath his days
of correcting, wherein he goes round from
one church to another ; we thought it would
never come to us, but we have now fourld
the smart of it.
And here the Apostle may probably mean
the times of these hot persecutions that were
begun and continued, though with some in-
tervals, for two or three ages. Thus Apo-
cal. vi. after the white horse, immediately
follows at his heels the red, and the black,
ard the pale horse. And as it was upon
the first publishing of the gospel, so usually,
upon the restoring of it, or upon remarkable
lefprmations of the Church, and revivings of
rjligion, follow sharp and searching trials.
As the lower cause of this is the rage and
and prevalency of religion, so it is from a
higher hand for better ends. The Lord
will discover the multitudes of hypocrites,
and empty professors, that will at such a
time readily abound, when religion is upon
an advancing way, and the streams of it run
strong. Now, by the counter current of
troubles, such fall back and are carried
away. And the truth of grace in the hearts
of believers, receives advantage from these
hazards and sufferings ; they are put to fasten
their hold the better on Christ, to seek more
experience of the real and sweet consolations
of the gospel, which may uphold them
against the counter blasts of suffering. Thus
is religion made a more real and solid thing
in the hear;s of true believers ; they are en-
tered to that way of receiving Christ and his
cross together, that they may see their bar-
gain, and not think it a surprise.
Judgment.] Though all sufferings are
not such, yet, commonly, there is that un-
suitable and unwary walking among Chris-
tians, that even their sufferings for the cause
of God, though unjust from men, yet are
from God just punishments of their miscar-
riages towards him, in their former ways ;
their self-pleasing and earthliness, having
too high a relish for the delights of this
world, forgetting their inheritance and home,
and conforming themselves to the world,
walking too like it.
Must begin.] The Church of God is
punished, while the wicked are free and
flourish in the world, possibly all their days ;
or if judgment reach them here, yet it is
later ; it begins at the house of God. 1.
This holds in them who profess his name,
and are of the visible Church, compared
with them who 'are without the pale of it,
and are its avowed enemies. 2. Those who
profess a desire of a more religious and holy
course of life within the Church, compared
with the profane multitude. 3. They who
are indeed more spiritual and holy, and come
nearer unto God, compared with others who
fall short of that measure ; in all these re-
spects it holds, that the Lord doth more
readily exercise them with afflictions, and
correct their wanderings, than any other.
And this truly is most reasonable, and the
reason lies in the very name given the Church,
The House of God.
I. There is equity in sucli a proceeding.
The sins of the Church have their peculiar
aggravations, which fall not upon others ;
that which is simply a sin in strangers to
God, is, in his people, the breach of a known
and received law, and a law daily unfolded
and set before them ; yea, it is against their
oath of allegiance ; it is perfidy and breach
of covenant, committed both against the
clearest light, and strictest bonds, and high-
VTEB. 17-]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
est mercies ; and the more particular profes-
sion of his name, and testimonies of his love,
which make sin the more sinful, and the
punishment of it the more reasonable. The
sins of the Church are all twice dipt, Di-
bapha, Isa. i. 18, have a double dye : they
are both breaches of the law, and they are
besides ungrateful and disloyal breaches of
promise.
2. As there is unquestionable equity, so
there is an evident congruity in it. God is
ruler of all the world, but particularly of his
Church, therefore here called his House,
wherein he hath a special residence and pre-
sence. And therefore it is most suitable that
there he be specially observed and obeyed,
and if disobeyed, that he take notice of it
and punish it ; that he suffer not himself to
be dishonoured to his face by those of his
own house. And therefore, whosoever escape,
his own shall not ; You only have I known
of all the families of the earth : Therefore
will I punish you for all your iniquities,
Amos iii. 2. He that righteously judges
and rules all nations, it is fit he make his
justice most evident and exemplary in his
own house, where it may best be remarked,
and where it will best appear how impartial
he is in punishing sin. So a king, as the
Psalmist, Psal. ci. 2, that he may rule the
land well, makes his own house exemplary.
It is, you know, one special qualification of
a bishop and pastor, 1 Tim. iii. 4, 5, To be
one that ruleth well his oicn house, having
his children in subjection ; for if a man
know not how to rule his own house, how
shall he take care of the Church of God?
Now this, therefore, more eminently appears
in the supreme Lord of the Church ; he
rules "it as his own house : and therefore,
when he finds disobedience there, he will
first punish that. So he clears himself;
and the wicked world being afterwards pu-
nished, their mouths are stopped with the pre-
ceding punishment of the Church : Will he
not spare his own ; yea, shall they be first
scourged ; What then shall be the end of
them that obey not the gospel ?
And indeed the purity of his nature, if it
be every where contrary to all sinful impurity,
cannot but most appear in his peculiar dwell-
ing-house ; that he will be sur; to have neat
and clean. If he hate sin all the world over,
he hates it most, and testifies his hatred of
it most, where it is nearest to him. He will
not endure it in his presence ; as cleanly neat
persons cannot well look upon any thing that
is nasty, much less will they suffer it to come
near them or touch them, and to continue in
their presence in the house where they dwell.
The Lord that is of purer eyes than to be-
hold iniquity, Heb. i. 13, will not abide it
within his own doors ; and the nearer any
comes to him, the less can he endure any un-
holiness, or sinful pollution, in them"; he
S
will be sanctified in all that come nigh him,
Lev. x. 3. So in his ministers : Oh I how
pure ought they to be, and how provoking
and hateful to him are their impurities !
Therefore, in that commission to the destroy,
ers, Ezek. ix, 6, to which place the Apostle
here may have some eye, Go, says he, stay
the old and young ; and begin at my sanc-
tuary. They were they who had polluted
his worship, and there the first stroke lighted.
And, in a spiritual sense, because all his peo-
ple are his elect priesthood, and should be
holiness to the Lord, and when they are not
really so, and do not sanctify him in their
walking, he sanctifies himself, and declares
his holiness in his judgments on them.
3. There is mercy in this dispensation too;
even under the habit of judgment, love walks
secretly and works : so loving and so wise a
Father will not undo his children by sparing
the rod, but because he loves, rebukes, and
chastens, Heb. xii. 6, Prov. iii. 12, Apoc.
iii. 19. His Church is his house ; therefore,
that he may delight in it, and take pleasure
to dwell in it, and make it happy with his
presence, he will have it often washed and
made clean, and the filth and rubbish scour-
ed and purged out of it : This argues his
gracious purpose of abiding in it.
And as he doth it, that he may delight in
his people, so, that they may delight in him.
and in him alone, he embitters the breast 01
the world to wean them ; makes the world
hate them, that they may the more easily
hate it ; suffers them not to settle upon it,
and fall into a complacency with it ; but
makes it unpleasant to them by many and
sharp afflictions, that they may, with the more
willingness, come off, and be untied from it,
and that they may remember home the more,
and seek their comforts above, that finding
so little below, they may turn in to him, and
delight themselves in communion with him.
That the sweet incense of their prayers may
ascend the more thick, he kindles these fires
of trial to them ; for though it should not be
so, yet so it is, that, in times of ease, they
would easily grow remiss and formal that way.
He is gracious and wise, knows what he
does with them, and the thoughts he thinks
towards them, Jer. xxix. 11. All is for their
advantage, purging their iniquities, Isa.
xxvii ; purges our impatience, and earthli-
ness, and self-will, and carnal security ; and
thus refines them for vessels of honour. We
see in a jeweller's shop, that as there are
pearls and diamonds, and other precious
stones, there are files, cutting instruments,
and many sharp tools for their polishing :
And while they are in the work-house, they
are continual neighbours to them, and come
often under them. The church is God's
jewelry, his work-house, where his jewels are
polishing for his palace and house ; and
those he especially esteems and mean.s to
274
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. ir.
make most resplendent, he hath oftenest his
tools upon them.
Thus observe it, as in the Church to other
societies, so is it in a congregation or family
belonging to it, if there be one more dili-
gently seeking after God than the rest, he
shall probably meet with more trials, and be
oftener under affliction than any of the com-
pany ; either under contempt and scorn, or
poverty and sickness, or some one pressure
or other, outward or inward ; and those in-
ward trials are the nearest and sharpest which
the world sees least, and yet the soul feels
most : And yet all these, both outward and
inward, have love, unspeakable love in them
all. to purge and polish them ; and, by in-
creasing of grace, do tit them for glory.
Inf. 1. Let us not be so foolish as to pro-
mise ourselves impunity on account of our re-
lation to God, as his Church and covenant
with him. If once we thought so, sure our
experience hath undeceived us. And let not
what we have suffered harden us, as if the
worst were past. We may rather fear its
being a pledge, and beginning of sharper
judgment. Why do we not consider our
unhumbled and unpurged condition, and
tremble before the Lord ? Would we save
him a labour, he would take it well. Let
us purge our souls, that he may not be put
to further purging by new judgments. Were
we busy reading our present condition, we
would see very legible fore-signs of further
judgments; as for instance, 1. The Lord
taking away his eminent and worthy servants
who are as the very pillars of the public peace
and welfare ; and taking away counsel and
courage, and union from the rest : forsaking
us in our meetings, and leaving us in the
dark to grope and rush one upon anotner.
2. The dissensions and jarrings in the state
and church are likely from imagination
to bring it to a reality. These unnatural
burnings threaten new fires of public judg-
ments to be kindled amongst us. 3. That
general despising of the gospel, and abound-
ing of profaneness throughout the land, not
yet purged, but as our great sin remaining
in us, calls for more fire and more boiling.
4. The general coldness and deadness of
spirit, want of that zeal for God, that com-
munion of saints, that mutual stirring up one
another to holiness, and, which is the source
of all, the ceasing of prayer, that frozen he-
numbness in that so necessary work, in that
preventer of judgments, that binder of the
hands of God from punishments, and opener
of them unto us, for the pouring forth of
mercies. Oh ! this is a sad condition in
itself, though it portended no further judg-
ment, the Lord hiding himself, and the spirit
of zeal and prayer withdrawn, and scarce any
lamenting it, or so much as perceiving it.
Where are our days either of solemn prayer
or praises, as if there were cause of neither,
and yet there is clear cause of both. Truly,
my brethren, we have need, if ever, to bestir
ourselves ; are not these kingdoms, at this
present, brought to the extreme point of their
highest hazard ? and yet who lays it te
heart ?
Inf. 2. Learn to put a right construction
on all God's dealings with his Church, and
with thy soul. For his Church, there may
be a time wherein thou shall see it not only
tossed, but to thy thinking, covered and
swallowed up with tears ; but wait a little,
it shall arrive safe. This is a common
stumbling stone, but walk by the light of
the word, and the eye of faith looking on it,
and thou shall pass by and not stumble at
it. The Church mourns, and Babylon sings,
sits as a queen, Rev. xviii. 1, but for how
long ? She shall come down and sit in the
dust, Isa. xlvi. 1 ; and Sion shall be glo-
rious, and put on her beautiful garments,
Isa. lii. 1, while Babylon shall not look for
another Revelation,* to raise her again ; no.
she shall never rise. The angel took up a
stone like a great millstone, and cast it into
the sea, saying, Thus, with violence, shall
the great city Babylon be thrown down, and
shall be found no more at all, Rev. xviii. 20
21.
Be not sudden, take God's work together,
and do not judge of it by parcels. It is in-
deed all wisdom and righteousness : but we
shall best discern the beauty of il when we
look on il in the frame, and when it shall be
fully completed and finished, and our eyes en-
lightened to take a fuller and clearer view of
it than we can have here. Oh ! what won-
der ! what endless wondering will it then
command !
We read of Joseph hated, and sold, and
imprisoned, and all most unjustly ; but be-
cause, within a leaf or two, we find him freed
and exalted, and his brethren coming suppli-
cants to him, we are satisfied. But when
we look on things which are for the present
cloudy and dark, our impatient hasty spirits
cannot learn to wait a little till we see the
other side, and what end the Lord makes.
We see judgment beginning at the house of
God, and this perplexes us, while we consi-
der not the rest, What shall be the end oj
them that obey not the gospel ? God be-
gins the judgment on his Church for a little
time, that it may end and resl upon his ene-
mies for ever. And indeed he leaves the
wicked last in the punishment ; and defers
it, that he may make use of them for the pu-
nishing of his Church. They are his rod,
Isa. x. 5. But then, when he hath done that
work with them, they are broken and burnt,
ver. 16, and that when they are at the height
of their insolence and boasting ; not know.
* Perhaps the original reading might be revolution ;
)ut as Revelation or Apocalypse will give some, though
a less perspicuous sense, the Editor would not lake the
iberty to change it.
VE-l. I/-]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
275
ing what hand moves them, and smites his
people with them for a while, till the day of
their consuming conies, ver. 24, 25. Let
the vile enemy that hath shed our blood, and
insulted over us, rejoice in their present spar-
ing, and in men's procuring of it, and plead,
ing for it.* There is another hand whence
we may look for justice ; and though it may
be the judgment begun at us, is not yet end-
ed, and that we may yet further (and that
justly) find them our scourge, yet certainly
we may and ought to look beyond that unto
the end of the Lord's work : which shall be
the ruin of his enemies, and the peace of his
people, and the glory of his name.
But we now come to consider God dealing
with the wicked, The end of them that obey
not the gospel. The end of all the ungodly
is terrible ; but especially of such as heard
the gospel, and have not received and obey-
ed it.
The word mnit»vr<n*i hath in it both unbe-
lief and disobedience, and these are insepar-
able. Unbelief is the grand point of disobe-
dience in itself, and the spring of all other
disobedience : And pity it is that men will
not believe it to be thus.
They think it an easy and a common thing
to believe. Who doth not believe ? Oh !
bat rather, who does ? Who hath believed
our report1^ Isa. liii. 1. Were our own
misery and the happiness that is in Christ
beiieved, were the riches of Christ and the
love of Christ believed, would not this per-
suade men to forsake their sins and the world,
to embrace him ?
But men run away with an extraordinary
fancy of believing, and do not deeply consi-
der what news the gospel brings, and how
much it concerns them. Sometimes, it may
be, they have a sudden thought of it, and
they think, I will think on it better at some
other time. But when comes that time ?
One business steps in after another, and
shuffles it out. Men are not at leisure to be
saved.
Observe the phrase, The gospel of Gad.
It is his embassy of peace to men, the riches
of his mercy and free love opened and s:t
forth ; not simply to be looked on, but laid
hold on. The glorious holy God declaring
his mind of agreement with man in his own
Son ; his blood streamed forth in it to wash
away uncleanness, and yet this gospel is not
obeyed. Sure the conditions of it must be
very hard, and the commands must be into-
lerably grievous, that they are not hearkened
to. Why, judge you if they be. The great
command is that, to receive that salvation ;
and the other is this, to love that Saviour ;
and there is no more. Perfect obedience is
» I am ready to believe this refers to the escape of
many who had deserved the severest punishments, for
their part in the grand Irish rebellion, but were screen-
ed by the favour of some great men, in the reign
ol King Charles II.
not now the thing. And the obedience
which is required, that love makes sweet and
easy to us, and acceptable to him. This is
proclaimed to all that hear the gospel, and
the greatest part refuse it ; they love them,
selves, and their lusts, and this present world,
and will not change, and so they perish.
They perish, What is that ? What is
their end ? I will answer that but as the
Apostle doth, and that is even asking the
question over again, What shall be their
end?
There is no speaking of it : a curtain is
drawn ; silent wonder expresses it best, tell-
ing it cannot be expressed. How then shall
it be endured ? It is true, that there be re-
semblances used in Scripture, giving us some
glance of it ; we hear of a burning lake, a
fire that is not quenched, and a worm that
dies not, Isa. Ixvi. 24, Mark ix. 44, Rev.
xxi. 8 ; but these are but shadows to the real
misery of them that obey not the gospel.
Oh ! to be filled with the wrath of God, the
ever living God, for ever ! What words or
thoughts can reach it ! Oh ! eternity, eter-
nity ! Oh ! that we did believe it.
This same parallel of the Lord's dealing
with the righteous and the wicked, is con-
tinued in the following verse in other terms
for the clearer expression, and deeper impres-
sion of it.
VER. 18. And if the righteous scarcely be save
where shall the ungodly and the sinner appear ?
IT is true, then, that they are scarce sav-
ed, even they that endeavour to walk upright-
ly in the ways of God, that is, the righteous ;
they are scarcely saved. That imports not
any uncertainty or hazard in the thing itself
to the end, in respect of the purpose and per-
formance of God, but only the great difficult
ties, and hard encounters in the way ; that
they go through so many temptations and
tribulations, so many fyhtinos without, and
fears within ; the Christian being so simple
and weak, and his enemies so crafty and
powerful ; and the oppositions of the wicked
world being so many and great, their hatreds,
and scorns, and molestations, the sleights
and violence of Satan, and the worst of all,
the strength of their own corruptions. Alas,
there is, by reason of abounding corruption,
such frequent, almost continual, need of
purging by afflictions and trials ; to be still
under physic ; to be of necessity at some
times drained, and brought so low, that
there is scarce strength or life remaining in
them.
And, truly, all outward difficulties would
be but matter of ease, would be as nothing,
were it not the incumbrance of lusts and
corruptions within. Were a man to meet
disgraces and sufferings for Christ, how
easily would he go through them, yea, and
rejoice in them, were he rid of the fretting
278
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. TV.
impatience, the pride, and self-love, of his
own carnal heart. These clog and trouble
him worst, and he cannot shake them off,
nor prevail against them without much
pains, many prayers and tears ; and many
times after much wrestling, he scarce finds
that he hath gained any ground : Yea, some-
limes he is foiled and cast down by them.
And so in all other duties, such a fight-
ing and continual combat with a revolting
backsliding heart, the flesh pulling, and
dragging downwards ; when he would mount
up, he finds himself as a bird with a stone
tied to its foot ; hath wings that flutter to be
upwards, but is pressed down with the
weight fastened to him. What struggling
with wanderings and deadness in hearing,
and reading, and prayer ! and that which is
most grievous is, that, by their unwary walk-
ing, and the prevailing of some corruption,
they grieve the Spirit of God, and provoke
him to hide his face, and withdraw his com-
forts ! How much pain to attain any thing,
any particular grace of humility, of meek-
ness, or self-denial ; and if any thing be at-
tained, how hard to keep and maintain it
against the contrary party ! How often are
they driven back to their old point ! If they
do but cease from striving a little, they are
carried back by the stream : And what re-
turns of doublings and misbelief, after they
thought they were got somewhat above them !
insomuch that sometimes they are at the
point of giving over, and thinking it will
never do for them. And yet through all
these they are brought safe home. There is
another strength which bears them up, and
brings jhem through ; but these things, and
many more of this nature, argue the diffi-
culty of their course, and that it is not so
easy a thing to come to heaven as most
imagine it.
Inf. Thou that findest so little stop and
conflict in it, goest thy round of external du-
ties, and all is well, art no more troubled ;
thou hast need to inquire, after a long time
spent in that way, Am I right ? Am I not
yet to begin ? Sure this looks not like the
way to heaven, as it is described in the
Scripture ; it is too smooth and easy to he
right.
And if the way of the righteous be so
hard, then how hard shall be the end of the
ungodly, and sinner that walks in sin with
delight. It were strange if they should be
at such pains, and with great difficulty at-
tain their end : And he should come in
amongst them in
fools indeed ; tru
the end.
if it
They
were
but
what if it be not so ? Then the wicked is
the fool, and shall find he is: When he
shall not be able to stand in judqment,
where shall he appear ? Psal. i. 5. 'When
to the end he might not appear, he would
be glad to be smothered under the weight of
What
What
the hills and mountains, if they could shelter
him from appearing ?
And what is the aim of all this which we
have spoken, or can speak, on this subject,
but that ye may be moved to take into
deeper thoughts the concernment of your
immortal souls. Oh ! that you would be
persuaded. Oh that you would make in to
Jesus Christ, and seek salvation in him.
Seek to be covered with his righteousness,
and to be led by his Spirit in the ways of
righteousness. That will seal to you the
happy certainty of the end, and overcome for
you all the difficulties of the way.
is the gospel of Christ preached for ?
was the blood of Christ shed for ? Was it
not, that by receiving him, we might escape
condemnation ? Nay, this drew him from
heaven ; for he came that we might have
life,, and might have it more abundantly,
John x. 4.
VER. 19. Wherefore, let them that suffer according
to the will of God, commit the keeping of their
souls to him in well-doing, as unto a faithful
Creator.
NOTHING doth so establish the mind
amidst the rollings and turbulency of present
things, as both a look above them, and a
look beyond them ; above them, to the
steady and good hand by which they are
ruled ; and beyond them, to the sweet and
beautiful end, to which, by that hand, they
shall be brought. This the Apostle lays
here as the foundation of that patience and
peace in troubles, wherewith he would have
his brethren furnished. And thus he closes
this chapter in these words : Wherefore,
let them that suffer according to the will of
God, commit the keeping of their souls to
him in well-doing, as unto a faithful
Creator.
The words contain the true principle of
Christian patience and tranquillity of mind
in the sufferings of this life, expressing both
wherein it consists, and what are the
grounds of it.
1. Wherein it consists : it lies in this,
committing the soul unto God ; the word
a.ya.Safen'ia, added, is a true qualification
of this, that it be in well-doing, according
to the preceding doctrine, which the Apostle
gives clearly and largely, ver. 15, 16. If
men would have inward peace amidst out-
ward trouble, they must walk by the rule of
peace, and keep strictly to it. If you would
commit your soul to the keeping of God,
know he is a holy God ; and an unholy soul
that walks in any way of wickedness, known
or secret, is no fit commodity to put into his
pure hand to keep : Therefore, as you would
have this confidence to give your holy God the
keeping of your soul, and that he will accept
of it, and take it off your hand, beware of
wilful pollutions and unholy ways. Walk
so as you may not discredit your Protector,
VER. 19.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
2/7
and move him to be ashamed of you, and
disclaim you. Shall it be said that you live
under his shelter, and yet walk inordinately ?
As this cannot well be, you cannot well be-
lieve it to be. Loose ways will loosen your
hold of him, and confidence in him. You
will be driven to question your interest, and to
think, " Sure, I do but delude myself; can
I be under his safe-guard, and yet follow
the course of the world, and my corrupt
heart ?" Certainly, let who will be so, he
will not be a guardian and patron of wicked-
ness : No, he is not a God that hath plea-
sure in wickedness, nor shall evil dwell
with him, Psal. v. 4. If thon give thy soul
to him to keep upon terms of liberty to sin,
he will turn it out of his doors, and remit it
back to thee to look to as thou wilt thyself.
Yea, in the ways of sin, thou dost, indeed,
»teal it back, and earnest it out from him.
Thou puttest thyself out of the compass of
his defence, goest without the trenches, and
art, at thine own hazard, exposed to armies
of mischiefs and miseries.
Inf. 1. This, then, is principally to be
looked to ; you that would have safety in God
in evil times, beware of evil ways ; for in
these it cannot be. If you will be safe in
him, you must stay with him, and in all
your ways keep within him as your for-
tress ; now, in the ways of sin you run out
from him.
Hence it is we have so little established
confidence in God in times of trial. We
take ways of our own, and will be gadding,
and so we are surprised and taken, as they
that are often venturing out into the enemy's
reach, and cannot stay within the walls. It
is no idle repetition, Psal. xci. 1, He that
dwellelh in the secret place of the Most
High, shall abide under the shadow of the
Almighty. He that wanders not, but stays
there, shall find himself there hid from dan-
ger; they that rove out from God in their
ways, are disquieted and tossed with fears ;
this is the fruit of their own ways ; but the
soul that is indeed given to him to keep,
keeps near him.
Study pure and holy walking, if you
would have your confidence firm, and have
boldness and joy in God. You will find
that a little sin will shake your trust, and
disturb your peace more than the greatest
sufferings ; yea, in the greatest extremity of
sufferings, your assurance and joy in God
will grow and abound most, if sin be kept
out. That is the trouble-feast that disquiets
the conscience, which, while it continues
good, is a continual feast. So much sin
as gets in, so much peace will go out ; afflic-
tions cannot break in upon it to break it,
but sin doth. All the winds which blow
about the earth from all points stir it not,
only that within the bowels of it makes the
earthquake.
I do not mean that for infirmities a Chris-
tian ought to be discouraged ; but take heed
of walking in any way of sin ; for that will
unsettle thy confidence. Innocency and
holy walking makes the soul of a sound con-
stitution, that the counter-blasts of affliction
wear not out, nor alter it. Sin makes it sick.
ly and crazy, that it can endure nothing ;
therefore study to keep your consciences
pure, and they shall be peaceable, yea, in
the worst times commonly most peaceable,
and best furnished with spiritual confidence
and comfort.
Let such commit the keeping of their
souls to God. The Lord is an entire pro-
tector, he keeps the bodies, yea, all that
belongs to the believer, and as much as is
good for him, makes all safe, keeps all his
bones, not one of them is broken, Psal.
xxxiv. 20 ; yea, says our Saviour, The very
hairs of your head are numbered, Matt. x.
30. But that which, as in the believer's
account, and in God's account, so is certain,
ly in itself most precious, is principally com.
mitted and received into keeping, their souls.
They would most gladly be secured in
that here, and that shall be safe in the midst
of all hazards ; their concern is, that what-
soever be lost, that may not; that is the
jewel ; therefore the prime care of that, if it
be safe, all is well, it is riches enough. What
shall it profit a man though he gain the
whole world, says our Saviour, and lose his
own soul? Mark viii. 36; and so, what
shall it disprofit a man, though he lose the
whole world, if he gain his soul ? Nothing
at all.
When times of trial come, Oh ! what a
bustle to hide this and that, to fly, and carry
away, and make safe, that which is but trash
and rubbish to the precious soul ; but how
few thoughts of that ! Were we in our wits,
that would be at all times, not only in trouble,
but in days of peace ; Oh ! how shall I
make sure about my soul ? Let all go as it
may, can I be secured and persuaded in that
point ? I desire no more.
Now, the way is this, commit them to
God : this many say, but few do, give them
into his hand, lay them up there ; so the
word is, and they are safe, and may be quiet
and composed.
In patience possess your souls, says our
Saviour, Luke xxi. 1 9 ; impatient fretting
souls are out of themselves, their owners do
not possess them. Now, the way to possess
them ourselves in patience, is thus, to com-
mit them to him in confidence ; then we
only possess them, when he keeps them.
They are easily disquieted and shaken in
pieces while they are in our hands ; but in
his hand, they are above the reach of dan-
gers and fears.
Inf. 2. Learn from hence, what is tne
proper act of faith ; it rolls the soul over on
278
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. iv.
God, ventures it in his hand, and rests sa- Creator ; if he was able to give them being,
tisfied concerning it, being there. And sure he is able to keep them from perish,
there is no way but this, to be quiet within, ing. This relation of a Creator implies
to be impregnable and immoveable in all as- ' likewise a benign propension and good-will
saults, and fixed in all changes, believing on to the works of his hands. If he gave them
free love ; therefore be persuaded to resolve us at first, when once they were not, forming
in that, not doubting, and disputing, whe.
ther shall I believe or not ? Shall I think
he will suffer me to lay my soul upon him to
keep ? so unworthy, so guilty a soul, were
it not presumption ? Oh ! what sayest thou ?
why dost thou thus dishonour him, and dis-
quiet thyself? if thou hast a purpose to walk
in any way of wickedness, indeed thou art
not for him ; yea, thou comest not near him
to give him thy soul. But wouldest thou
have it delivered from sin, rather than from
trouble, yea, rather than from hell ; is that
the chief safety thou seekest, to be kept from
iniquity, from thine iniquity, thy beloved
sins ? Dost thou desire to dwell in him,
and walk with him ? then, whatsoever is thy
guiltiness and unworthiness, come forward,
and give him thy soul to keep. If he should
seem to refuse it, press it on him ; if he
stretch not forth his hand, lay it down at his
foot, and leave it there, and resolve not to
take it back ; say, " Lord, thou hast made
us those souls ; thou callest for them again
to be committed to thee : Here is one. It
is unworthy ; but what soul is not so ? I
most unworthy ; but therein will the riche
«f thy grace appear most in receiving it."
And thus leave it with him, and know he
trill make thee a good account of it. Now,
»ose goods, or credit, or friends, or life it-
self, it imports not ; the main concern is
sure, if so be thy soul be out of hazard ; /
suffer these things for the gospel, says the
Apostle, 2 Tim. i. 12, nevertheless I am
not ashamed; why, for I know whom I
have trusted, and am persuaded that he is
able to keep that which I have committed
to him against that day.
2dly, We now proceed to consider the
ground of this confidence; which is in these
two things in him whom we trust, ability
and fidelity. There is much in persuasion
of the power of God ; though few think they
question that ; there is in us secret undis-
covered unbelief, even in that point ; therefore
the Lord so often makes mention of it in the
Prophet, Isa. 1. 3, &c. And in this point,
the Apostle particularly expresses, / am per-
suaded that he is able to keep, &c. So this
Apostle, chap. i. 5, Kept by the power of
God through faith unto salvation, ready to
be revealed in the last time. This is very
needful to be considered in regard of the
many and great oppositions and dangers, and
powerful enemies that seek after our souls,
He is able to keep them, for he is strong-
er than all, and none can pluck them out
of his hand, says our Saviour, John x. 29.
This the Apostle here hath in that word,
them of nothing, will he not give us them
again, being put into his hand for safety ?
And as he is powerful, he is no less faith-
ful, a faithful Creator, truth itself. Them
that believe on him he never deceives nor
disappoints. Well might St. Paul say, /
know whom I have trusted, 2 Tim. i. 12.
Oh ! the advantage of faith. It engages
the truth and power of God, his royal word
and honour lies upon it, to preserve the soul
that faith gives him in keeping. If he re-
main able and faithful to perform his word,
that soul shall not perish.
There be in the words other two grounds
of quietness of spirit in sufferings: 1. It is
according to the will of God. The believing
soul, subjected and levelled to that will, com.
plying with his good pleasure in all, cannot
have a more powerful persuasive than this,
that all is ordered by his will. This settled
in the heart, would settle it much, and maki
it even in all things, not only to know, but
wisely and deeply to consider, that it is thus
That all is measured in heaven, every drachm
of thy troubles weighed by that skilful hand,
that doth all in weight, number, and measure
And then, consider him as thy God and
Father, who hath taken special charge of
thee, and thy soul ; thou hast given it to him.
and he hath received it.
And, upon this consideration, study tc
follow his will in all, to have no will but his.
This is thy duty and thy wisdom. Nothing
is gained by spurning and struggling, but to
hurt and vex thyself; but by complying, all
is gained, sweet peace ; it is the very secret,
the mystery of solid peace within, to resign
to his will, to be disposed at his pleasure,
without the least contrary thought. And
thus, as two faced pictures, those sufferings
and troubles, and whatsoever else, (while
beheld on the one side, as painful to the
flesh,) hath an unpleasant visage, yet go
about a little, and look upon it as thy Fa-
ther's will, and then it is smiling, beautiful
and lovely. This I would recommend to
you not only for temporals, as easier there,
but in spiritual things, your comforts and
sensible enlargements, to love all he does.
It is the sum of Christianity, to have thy
will crucified, and the will of thy Lord thy
only desire ; joy or sorrow, sickness or health,
ike or death, in all, in all, thy will be done.
The other ground is in the first word, re-
lecting on the foregoing discourse, where-
rore ; what ? seeing your reproaches and
ufferings are not endless, yea, they are short,
hey shall end, quickly end, and end in
;lory, be not troubled about them, overlook
vsa. 1.)
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
279
them, the eye of faith will do it ; it sees
them to be but for a moment. What are
they ? This is the great cause of our dis-
quietness in present troubles and griefs, we
forget their end. We are affected with our
condition in this present life, as if it were
all, and it is nothing. Oh ! how quickly
shall all the enjoyments, and all the suffer-
ings, of this life pass away, and it be as if
it had not been.
CHAP. V.
VER. 1. The elders which are among you I exhort,
who am also an elder, and a witness of the suffer-
ings of Christ, and also a partaker of the glory
that shall be revealed.
THE Church of Christ being one body, is
interested in the condition and carriage of
each particular Christian as a part of it : but
more eminently in those who are more emi-
nent and organic parts of it. Therefore the
Apostle, after many excellent directions given
to all his Christian brethren to whom he
writes, doth most reasonably and fitly add
this express exhortation to those who had
oversight and charge of the rest, The elders
Khich are among you, &c.
The words have, 1. A particular defini-
tion of the persons exhorted and exhorting.
2. The tenor of the exhortation itself.
The former of these we have in the first
verse.
And, 1 . The persons exhorted, The elders
among you.
Elders here, as often in other places, is a
name not of age, but of office ; yet the
office is named by that age, which is or ought
to be most suitably qualified for it ; and that
appellation imports, that men, though not
aged, jet if called to that office, should be
noted for such wisdom and gravity of mind
and carriage as may give that authority, and
command that respect, which is requisite for
persons in their calling : Not novices, as
St. Paul speaks; not as a light bladder,
being easily blown up, as young unstable
minds are, but such as young Timothy was
in humility and diligence, as the Apostle
testifies of him, Phil. ii. 2§, I have none
like minded who will naturally care for
ymir state ; and such as the Apostle Paul fur-
ther exhorts him to be, 1 Tim. iv. 12, Let no
man despise thy youth ; but be an example
of believers in word, in conversation, in
charity, in faith, in purity.
The name of elders indifferently signifies
either their age or their calling; and the
name of ruling elders sometimes denotes
civil rulers, sometimes pastors of the church ;
as, amongst the Jews, both offices often meet
in the same person. Here it appears that
pastors are meant, as the exhortation of feed-
ing the flock evidences ; which, though it
sometimes signifies ruling, and here may
comprise it, yet it is chiefly by doctrine : and
then the title given to Christ in the encou-
ragement added, further confirms the inter,
pretation, The Chief Shepherd.
A due frame of spirit and carriage in the
elders, particularly the Apostles of the Church,
is a thing of prime concern for the good of it.
It is one of the heaviest threatenings, when
the Lord declares, that he will give a rebel-
lious people such teachers and prophets as
they deserved, and indeed desired : // there
be a man to prophesy of wine and strong
drink, such a one shall be a prophet, says
he to that people, Micah ii. 11. And on
the other side, amongst the sweetest promises
of mercy, this is not the least, to be furnish-
ed with plenty of faithful teachers. Though
profane men make no reckoning of it, yet,
were it in the hardest times, they who know
the Lord will account of it as he doth, a
sweet allay of all sufferings and hardship.
Though the Lord give you the bread of
adversity and the water of affliction, yet
shall not thy teachers be removed into a
corner, but thine eyes shall see thy teach~
ers, Isa. xxx. 20. Oh ! how rich a pro^
mise is that, Jer. iii. 15, / will give yot»
pastors according to my own heart.
This promise is to be pressed and sued for
by earnest prayer. Were people much in
this duty, pastors would find it, and so peo-
ple themselves receive back their prayers,
with much gain, into their own bosom ; they
would have the returned benefit of it, as the
vapours that go up from below fall down
upon the earth again in sweet showers, and
make it fruitful. Thus went there many
prayers up for pastors, their doctrine would
drop as rain, and distil as dew, Deut. xxxii.
2. And the sweet influence of it would
make fruitful the valleys, humble hearts re-
ceiving it. And at this time, it is very need-
ful that the Lord be much importuned for
the continuance and increase of his favour in
this his Church : As they who have power
should be more careful of those due means,
which in schools of learning, or otherwise,
are needful for qualifying men for this ser.
vice ; so all in general, both people and pas-
tors, and such as are offering themselves to
that service, should chiefly beg from the high-
er academy, that teaching abundance of that
Spirit to those employed in that work, that
might make them able ministers of the New
Testament.
Oh ! it is an inestimable blessing to have
the saving light of the gospel shining clear in
the faithful and powerful ministry of it:
They thought so who said of their worthy
teacher, " They had rather for them the sun
should not shine, than he should not teach."*
« Satius solem non lucere, quam Chrysostomum non
docere.
200
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. r.
2. The person exhorting : /, a co-presby-
ter or fellow elder with you. The duty of
mutual exhorting lies on each Christian to
another, though it be little known amongsl
the greatest part ; but, truly, pastors should
be, as in other duties, so particularly in this,
eminent and exemplary in their intercourses
and converse, saying often one to another,
" Oh ! let us remember to .vhat we are call-
ed ; to how high and heavy a charge ! to
what holiness and diligence ! How great is
the hazard of our miscarriage, and how great
the reward of our fidelity !" They should be
often whetting and sharpening one another
by those weighty and holy considerations.
And a witness of the sufferings of Christ.
He did indeed give witness to Christ, by
suffering for him the hatred and persecutions
of the world in the publishing of the gospel,
and so was a witness and martyr before the
time that he was put to death. And this
I exclude not ; but that which is more par-
ticularly here intended is, his certain know-
ledge of the sufferings of Christ, in his own
person ; as an eye-witness of them, and upon
that knowledge a publisher of them, Luke
xxiv. 48. And thus these two suit with the
two motives urged, to bear home the exhor-
tation. The one couched in that, the flock
of God, ver. 2, which he purchased with
those his sufferings, whereof I was an eye-
witness. And the other of a crown, ver.
4. I may speak the more confidently of that,
for I am one of those who have real interest
in it, and firm belief of it, a partaker of the
glory that shall be revealed.
And these indeed are the things which
give weight to a man's words, make them
oowerful and pressing, a witness of the suf-
ferings of Christ. The Apostles had a
singular advantage in this, that wereauTWra;,
eye-witnesses ; and St. Paul, who wanted
that, had it supplied by a vision of Christ,
in his conversion. But, certainly, a spiri-
tual view of Christ crucified is generally
(I will not say absolutely) necessary to make
a minister of Christ, but certainly very re-
quisite for the due witnessing of him, and
displaying the excellency and virtue of his
sufferings ; so to preach the gospel that
there needs no other crucifix,* after so clear
and lively a way as that ; it may in some
measure suit the Apostle's word, Gal. iii. 1,
Before whose eyes Jesus Christ hath been
evidently set forth crucified among you.
Men commonly read and hear, and may
possibly preach, of the sufferings of Christ
as a common story, and that way it may a
little move a man, and wring tears from his
eyes ; but faith hath another kind of sight
of them, and so works other kind of affec-
tions, and without that, the very eye-sight
of them availed the Apostles nothing: For
• Alluding to the custom of many Popish nrearhpr*
tocarrv a & tie crucifix into the pulpit wiU> Them.
how many saw him suffer as they did, who
reviled, 01 at least despised him ? But by
the eye of faith to see the only-begotten Son
of God, us stricken and smitten of God,
bearing our sorrows, and wounded for out
transgression, Jesus Christ the righteous,
reckoned amongst the unrighteous and male-
factors ; ro see him stripped naked, and
scourged, and buffetted, and nailed, and
dying, and all for us ; this is the thing that
will bind upon us most strongly all the du-
ties of Christianity, and of our particular call-
ings, and best enable us, according to OUT
callings, to bind them upon others. But
our slender view of these things makes light
sense, and that, cold incitements to answer-
able duty ; certainly deep impression would
cause lively expression.
Would we willingly stir up our own hearts,
and one another, to holy diligence in our
station, study Christ as suffering and dying
more thoroughly : That is the very life of
the gospel and of our souls ; it is all we have
to learn, and all we have to teach and press
on you, / determined to know nothing
among you save Jesus Christ and him cru-
cified, 1 Cor. ii. 2. To make Christ's cross
the sum of all my learning.
The other motive is, that he was a par-
taker of the glory to be revealed. As a
witness of those sufferings, so a partaker of
the glory purchased by these sufferings ; and
therefore, as one insighted and interested in
what he speaks, the Apostle might fitly speak
of that peculiar duty, which these sufferings
and glory do peculiarly persuade. This is
the only woy of speaking of those things,
not as a discourser or contemplative student,
but a partaker. There is another force of a
pastor's exhortation either to his people or
his brethren, who brings his message written
upon his own heart ; speaks of the guilt of
sin, and sufferings of Christ for it, as parti-
cularly feeling his own guilt, and looking on
these sufferings as taking it away ; speaks of
free grace, as one who either hath drunken
of the refreshing streams of it, or at least is
earnestly thirsting after it ; of the love of
Christ, from a heart kindled with it ; of the
glory to come, as one who looks to be a sharer
in it, and longs earnestly for it, as one who
hath all his joy and content laid up in the
hopes of it.
And thus with respect to Christians con-
versing with each other in their mutual ex-
hortings and comfortings, all is cold and dead
that flows not from some inward persuasion
and experimental knowledge of divine things ;
but that gives an edge and a sweetness to
Christian conference. To be speaking of
Jesus Christ, not only as a King and as a
Redeemer, but their King and their Redeem,
er, in David's style, My King and my God,
Psal. Ixviii. 24 ; and of his sufferings as
theirs, applied by faith, and acquitting thctu,
VER. 1.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
281
in St. Paul's style, Gal. ii. 20, Who loved
me, and gave himself for me. To speak of
the glory to come as their inheritance, of
which they are partakers, their home, as
strangers meeting together abroad, in some
foreign country, delighting to speak of their
own land,* and their parentage, their friends,
and their rich patrimony, there abiding them :
And this ought to be the entertainment of
Christians when they meet. Away with
trifling vain discourses, cause all to give place
to these refreshing remembrances of our home.
Were our hearts much on that rich inheri-
tance above, it would be impossible to refrain
our tongues, and to pass on so silent concern-
ing it, to find matter of empty pratings, and
be pleased with them, and to have no relish
of this. Whither go your hearts ? They
are out of their way, and abase themselves,
that turn so much downwards, and are not
more above the sun ; eyeing still that bless-
ed land where our purchased inheritance
lies.
Oh ! seek after more clear knowledge of
this glory, and of your interest in it, that
your hearts may rejoice in the remembrance
of it, that it be not to you as the description
of a pleasant land, which men read of in his-
tory, and have no portion in. They like it
well, and are pleased with it while they read,
be it but some imagined country or common-
wealth finely fancied. But know the coun-
try of yours to be real, and no device ; and
seek to know yourselves to be partakers of it.
This confidence depends not upon a sin-
gular revelation, but on the power of faith,
and the light of the Spirit of God, which
clears to his children the things that he hath
freely given them, though some of them, at
some times, yea some, it may be, all or most
of their time, do want it : God so disposing
it, they scarce clearly see their right, till they
be in possession ; see not their heaven and
home, till they arrive at it, or are hard upon
it. Yet truly, this we may and ought to
seek after in humility and submission, that
we may have the pledge and earnest of our
inheritance, Eph. i. 14 ; not so much for
the comfort within us, though that is allow-
ed, as that it may wean our hearts from things
below ; may rise us to higher and closer com-
munion with God, and enable us more for
his service, and excite us more to his praises,
even here. What were a Christian without
the hope of this glory, as one said, Tolle reli-
ffionem, et nullus eris, Take away religion,
and you take away the man. And, having
this hope, what are all things here to him ?
liow poor and despicable the better and worse
of this life, and this life itself! how glad is
he that it will quickly end ! and what were
the length of it to him, but a long con-
tinuance of his banishment, a long detain-
* Peregrinis In terris nulla est jucundior recordatio
qiiam suae civitatis. AUG. in I1*!, cxlv.
ment from his home ! and how sweet is
the message that is sent for him to come
home !
Justly it is called, The glory that is to
be revealed. It is hid for the present,
wholly unknown to the children of this
world, and even but little known to the chil-
dren of God, who are heirs of it. Yea, they
who know themselves partakers of it, yet
know not much what it is ; only this, that it
is above all they know or can imagine.
They may see things which make a great
shew here ; they may hear of more than they
see ; they may think or imagine more than
either they hear or see, or can distinctly con-
ceive of; but still they must think of this
glory as beyond it all. Do I see pompous
shows, or read or hear of them ? yet this I
say of them, These are not as my inheri-
tance : Oh ! it is far beyond them. Yea,
does my mind imagine things far beyond
them, golden mountains and marble palaces ?
Yet these fall short of my inheritance, for it
is such as eye hath not seen, nor ear heard,
nor hath entered into the heart of man to
conceive, 1 Cor. ii. 9. Oh ! the brightness
of that glory when it shall be revealed!
How shall they be astonished who shall see
it, and not partake of it ! How shall they be
filled with everlasting joy, who are heirs of
it ! Were the heart much upon the thoughts
of that glory, what thing is there in this
perishing world, which could either lift it up
or cast it down ?
VER. 2. Feed the flock of God which is among you,
taking the oversight thereof, not by constraint, but
williiigly ; not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind.
VER. 3. Neither as being lords over God's heritage,
but being ensamples to the flock.
VER. 4. And when the Chief Shepherd shall ap-
pear, ye shall receive a crown of glory that fadelh
not away.
IN these words we have, 1. The duty en-
joined, feed the flock of God, which »'.»
among you, taking the oversight of it. 2.
The due qualifications of their duty nega-
tively, not by constraint, for filthy lucre, as
lording it over God's heritage, but willing-
ly, of a ready mind, and as being ensam-
ples to the flock. 3. The high advantage
to be expected, an unfading crotvn of g lory,
when the Chief Shepherd shall appear.
1. The duty enjoined, Feed the flock of
God ; every step of the way of our salvation
hath on it the print of infinite majesty, wis-
dom, and goodness ; and this amongst the
rest, that men, sinful weak men, are made
subservient in that great work of bringing
Christ and souls to meet ; that by the fool-
ishness of preaching, (or what appears so to
carnal wisdom,) the chosen of God are call-
ed, and come unto Jesus, and are made wise
unto salvation ; and that the life which is
conveyed to them by the word of life in the
hands of poor men, is by the same means
preserved and advanced. And this is the
2»2
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. r.
standing work of the ministry, and this the
thing here bound upon them that are em
ployed in it, to feed the flock of God that is
among them. Jesus Christ descended to
purchase a Church, and ascended to provide
and furnish It, to send down his Spirit : He
ascended and gave gifts, particularly for
the work of the ministry; and the grea
use of them is this, to feed the flock of God.
Not to say any more of this usual resem-
blance of a flock, importing the weakness
and tenderness of the Church, the continual
need she stands in of inspection, and guid-
ance, and defence, and the tender care of the
Chief Shepherd for these things ; the phrase
enforces the present duty of subordinate pas-
tors ; their care and diligence in feeding of
that flock. The due rule of discipline not
excluded, the main part of feeding is by
doctrine, leading them into the wholesome
and green pastures of saving truths reveal-
ed in the gospel, accommodating the way of
teaching to their condition and capacity ; to
be, as much as may be, particularly ac-
quainted with it, and suit diligently and
prudently their doctrine to it ; to feed the
sheep, those more advanced ; to feed the
lambs, the younger and weaker ; to have
special care of the infirm ; to learn of their
Master the great Shepherd, to bind up that
which is broken, and strengthen that which
is sick, Ezek. xxxiv. 16, those that are
broken in spirit, that are exercised with
temptations, and. gently to lead those (hat are
with young, Isa. xl. 1 1, in whom the inward
work of grace is as in the conception, and
they heavy and weak with the weight of it,
and the many difficulties and doublings
which are frequent companions and symp-
toms of that work. Oh ! what dexterity
and skilfulness, what diligence, and above
all, what affection, and bowels of compas-
sion, are needful for the task ! Who is suf-
ficient for these things ? 2 Cor. ii. 16 ; who
would not faint and give over in it, were not
our Lord the Chief Shepherd ; were not all
our sufficiency laid up in his rich fulness,
and all our insufficiency covered in his gra-
cious acceptance ?
Inf. 1. This is the thing we have to eye
and study, to set Him before us, and to
apply ourselves in his strength to his work.
Not to seek to please, but to feed ; not to
delight the ears, but to feed the souls, of his
people ; to see that the food be according to
his appointment; not empty or subtle no-
tions, not light-affected expressions, but
wholesome truths, solid food, spiritual things,
spiritually conceived and uttered, with holy
understanding and affection.
And to consider this, wherein lies a very
pressing motive, it is the flock of God, not
our own, to use as we please, but committed
to our custody by him, who loves highly,
and prizes his flock, and will require an ac-
count of us concerning it. It is his bought,
his purchased flock, and at so dear a rate, as
the Apostle St. Paul uses this same consi-
deration, in the same argument, Acts xx.
28. The flock of God that he hath bought
with his own blood. How reasonable is it
that we bestow our strength and life on that
flock, which our Lord laid down his life for ;
that we be most ready to draw out our spirits
for them, for whom he let out his blood ?
Had J, says that holy man,* some of thai
blood poured forth on the cross, how care-
fully would I carry it ; and, ought I not
to be as careful of those souls that it was
shed for ? Oh ! that price which was paid
for souls, :which he who was no foolish mer-
chant, but wisdom itself, gave for them !
Were that price more in our eyes, and more
in yours, nothing would so much take either
you or us, as the matter of our souls. In
this would our desires and endeavours meet,
we to use, and you to improve, the means Oi
saving your precious souls.
Inf. 2. This mainly concerns us indeed,
who have charge of many, especially finding
the right cure of one soul within us so hard :
But you are concerned in it each for one :
At least remember this is the end of the
ministry, that you may bs brought unto
Christ, that you may be led to the sweet
pastures and pleasant streams of the gospel ;
that you may be spiritually fed, and may
grow in that heavenly life, which is here
begun in all those in whom it shall here,
after be perfected.
And as we ought in preaching, so you in
hearing, to propound this end to yourselves,
that you may be spiritually refreshed, and
walk in the strength of that divine nourish-
ment. Is this your purpose when you come
hither ? Inquire of your hearts, and see what
you seek, and what you find, in the public
ordinances of God's house. Certainly the
most do not so much as think on the due
intendment of them, aim at no end, and
therefore can attain none ; seek nothing, but
it out their hour, asleep or awake, as it may
bappen ; or possibly some seek to be delight-
ed for the time, as the Lord tells the pro-
phet, to hear, as it were, a pleasant song,
Ezek. xxxiii. 32 ; if the gifts and strain of
the speaker be any thing pleasing. Or, it
may be, they want to gain some new no-
ions, to add somewhat to their stock of
cnowledge, either that they may be enabled
'or discourse, or simply that they may know.
Some, it may be, go a little further ; they
ike to be stirred and moved for the time,
and to have some touch of good affection
cindled in them ; but this lasts but for a
while, till their other thoughts and affairs
et in, and smother and quench it ; they are
not careful to blow it up and improve it.
low many, when they have been a little
* BERN. Adveut. Serm. 8.
VEH. 2—4.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
affected with the word, go out and fall into
other discourses and thoughts, and either
take in their affairs secretly, as it were under
their cloak, and their hearts keep a confe-
rence with them ; or if they forbear this, yet,
as soon as they go out, plunge themselves
over head and ears in the world, and lose all
which might have any way advantaged their
spiritual condition. It may be, one will say,
It was a good sermon ; is that to the pur-
pose ? But what think you it hath for your
praise or dispraise ? Instead of saying,
<l Oh ! how well was that spoken !" you
should say, " Oh ! how hard is repen-
tance ! how sweet a thing is faith ! how
excellent the love of Jesus Christ !" That
were your best and most real commenda-
tion of the sermon, with true benefit to
yourselves.
If some of you be careful of repeating, yet
rest not on that ; if you be able to speak of
it afterwards upon occasion, there is some-
what requisite beside and beyond this, to
evidence that you are indeed fed by the
word, as the flock of God. As when
sheep, you know, or other creatures, are
nourished by their pasture, the food they
have eaten appears not in the same fashion
upon them ; not in grass, but in growth of
flesh and fleece : thus the word would truly
appear to feed you, not by the bare discours-
ing of the word over again, but by the tem-
per of your spirits and actions ; if in them
you really grow more spiritual ; if humility,
self-denial, charity, and holiness, are in-
creased in you by it. Otherwise, whatso-
ever literal knowledge you attain, it avails
you nothing, though you heard many ser-
mons every day, and attained further light
by them, and carried a plausible profession
of religion ; yet, unless by the gospel you be
transformed into the likeness of Christ, and
grace be indeed growing in you, you are but,
as one says of the cypress trees, fair and tall,
but fruitless.*
Are you not grieved and afraid, or may
not many of you be so, who have lived many
years under a fruitful ministry, and yet are
as earthly and selfish, as unacquainted with
God, and his ways, as at the first ? Con-
sider this, that as the neglect of souls will
lie heavy on unholy or negligent ministers,
so a great many souls are ruining themselves
under some measure of fit means ; and so
the slighting of those means will make their
condition far heavier than that of many
others ; remember our Saviour's word, Matt.
xi. Woe to thee, Chorazin ! Woe unto
thee, Bethsaida ! It shall be more tole-
rable for Tyre and Sidon in the day of
judgment than for you.
II. The discharge of this high task we
have here duly qualified ; the Apostle ex-
283
presses the upright way of it, both negative-
ly and positively.
1. Negatively. There be three evils the
Apostle would remove from this work, con-
strainedness, covetousness, and ambition ;
and the positive qualifications opposed to
them, which I shall consider with them, are
willingness, a ready mind, arid an exem-
plary temper and behaviour. 1. We are cau-
tioned against constrainedness, nn ava.y%a.<r-
TOS, either driven to the work by necessity,
indigence, and want of other means of sub-
sistence ; as it is with too many, making a
trade of it to live by, and setting to it as to
any other calling for that end ; yea, making
it the refuge and 'forlorn resource of their
insufficiency for other callings. And as
men are not to undertake the work, driven to
it by that hard weapon of necessity, so,
being engaged in it, they are not to dis-
charge the duties of it merely upon necessity,
because of fines binding to it, and for fear of
censure ; this is a violent forced motion, and
cannot but be both very unpleasant and un-
profitable, as to the proper end and profiting
of this work. And as the principle of the
motion in this service should not be a com-
pelling necessity of any kind, but true wil-
lingness of heart,
So, 2dly, This willingness should not
arise from any other but pure affection to
the work, not for filthy gain, but purely
from the inward bent of the mind. As it
should not be a compulsive or violent mo-
tion by necessity from without, so it should
not be an artificial motion by weights o*
avarice, and love of gain, hung on within.
The former motive, necessity, makes the
mind like a wheel, that is driven or drawn
forcibly ; the latter, avarice, makes it like
a clock, which is kept going by art, and by
weights hung to it. But there should be a
natural motion, as that of the heavens in
their course ; a willing obedience to the
Spirit of God within, moving a man in every
part of this holy work : that is, v^ti/pus,
his mind carried to it as the thing he de-
lights in, and in which he loves to be exer-
cised.* There may be in a faithful pastor
very great reluctancies in engaging and ad-
hering to the work upon a sense of the ex-
cellency of it, and his unfitness, and the
deep apprehension of those high interests,
the glory of God, and the salvation of souls ;
and yet he enters into it, and continues in it,
with this readiness of mind too, that is,
with most single and earnest desires of doing
all he can for God, and the flock of God :
only grieved that there is in him so little
suitableness of heart, so little holiness and
acquaintance with God, for enabling him to
it. But finding that, he is satisfied, and, in
attendance upon that, goes on, and waits,
KxA.91 XXI
tux s%cvffi.
» Timothy careth ytr.tias , not artificially, but.na.
i. turally, Phil. ii. 20.
284
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. v.
and is doing according to his little skill and
strength, and cannot leave it. He is con-
strained indeed, but all the constraint is
that of love to Jesus, 2 Cor. v. 14 ; and for
his sake to the souls he hath bought ; and
all the gain sought is to gain souls to Christ,
which is far different from the constraint and
gain here prohibited ; yea, is indeed that
very willingness and readiness of mind which
is opposed to that other constraint ; that is
without, this is within ; that other gain is
base filthy gain, etl^osi^at this noble and
divine.
Inf. 1. Far be it from us, that necessity
and constraint should be the tiling that
moves us in so holy a work. The Lord
whom we serve sees into the heart ; and if
he find not that primely moving, accounts
all our diligence nothing. And let not base
earth within be the cause of our willing-
ness, but a mind touched with heaven. It
is true, the temptations of earth with us, in
matter of gain, are not great ; but yet the
heart may cleave to them, as much as if they
were much greater ; and if it do cleave
to them, they shall ruin us, as well a
poor stipend and glebe, if the affection be
upon them, as a great deanery or bishopric.
If a man fall into it, he may drown in a
small brook, being under water, as well as
in the great ocean. Oh ! the little time
that remains, let us join our desires and en-
deavours in this work, bend our united
strength to serve him, that we may have joy
in that day of reckoning.
And, indeed, there is nothing moves us
aright, nor shall we ever find comfort in this
service, unless it be from a cheerful inward
readiness of mind, and that from the love
of Christ. Thus said he to his Apostle,
Lovest thou me ? then feed my sheep, and
feed my lambs, John xxi. Love to Christ
begets love to his people's souls, that are so
precious to him, and a care of feeding them :
He devolves the working of love towards
him upon his flock for their good ; puts
them in his room, to receive the benefit of
our services, which cannot reach him consi-
dered in himself: he can receive no other
profit from it. Love, much love, gives much
unwearied care, and much skill in this
charge. How sweet is it to him that loves
to bestow himself, to spend and be spent,
upon his service whom he loves. Jacob, in
the same kind of service, endured all that
was imposed on him, and found it light by
reason of love, the cold of the nights, and
heat of the days ; seven years he served for his
Rachel, and they seemed to him but a few
days, because he loved her, Gen. xxix. 20.
Love is the great endowment of a shep-
herd of Christ's flock. He says not to Peter,
Art thou wise, or learned, or eloquent ; but
Lovest thou me « Then feed my sheep.
The third evi) is ambition, and that is
either in the affecting of undue authority ;
or the overstrained and tyrannical exercise of
due authority ; or to seek those dignities
that suit not with this charge, which is not
dominium, but ministerium. This temper,
therefore, is forbidden in Luke xxii. 25, 2C,
The kings of the Gentiles exercise lord-
ship over them, but ye shall not be so.
There is a ministerial authority to be used
in discipline, and more sharpness with some
than others ; but still lowliness and modera-
tion must be predominant, and not domi-
neering with rigour ; rather being examples
to them in all holiness, and especially in
humility and meekness, wherein our Lord
Jesus particularly propounds his own ex-
ample, Learn of me, for I am meek and
lowly of heart.
Being ensamples, rtxo,.] Such a pat-
tern as they may stamp and print their spi-
rits and carriage by ; and be followers oj
you, as you are of Christ. And without
this, there is little or no fruitful teaching.
Well, says Nazianzen, Either teach not, or
teach by living. So the Apostle exhorteth
Timothy to be an example in word, but
withal in conversation, 1 Tim. iv. 12, that
TUITOS, the best printed copy.
But this pares oft', will some think, all
encouragements of learning. No advantage,
no respect, nor authority. Oh ! no, it re-
moves poor worthless encouragements out
of the way, to make place for one great one,
that is sufficient, which all the other toge-
ther are not. That is,
III. The high advantage to be expected :
A crown of glory which fadeth not away,
to be received when the chief Shepherd
shall appear. Thou shalt lose nothing by
all that restraint from base gain, and vain
glory, and worldly power. No matter, let
them all go for a crown, that weighs them
all down, that shall abide for ever. Oh !
how far more excellent ! A crown of glory,
pure unmixed glory, without any ingrediency
of pride or sinful vanity, or any danger of it.
And a crown that fadeth not, aua^avrtvov,
of such a flower as withers not ; not a tem-
porary garland of fading flowers, such as all
here are. Woe to the crown of pride, Isa.
xxviii. 1. Though it be made of flowers
growing in a fat valley, yet their glorious
beauty is a fading flower ; but this will re-
main fresh and in perfect lustre to all eter-
nity. May they not well trample on base
gain, and vain applause, who have this crown
to look to ? They that will be content with
those, let them be doing ; but they have
their reward, and it is done and gone, when
faithful followers are to receive theirs. Joys
of royal pomp, marriages and feasts, how
soon do they vanish as a dream ! That of
Ahasuerus lasted about half a year, but
then ended ; and how many since that are
gone and forgot ! But this day begins a
TER. 5.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
triumph and a feast, that shall never either
end or weary, affording still fresh, ever new
delights. All things here, the choicest
pleasures, cloy, but satisfy not. Those
above shall always satisfy and never cloy.
When the chief Shepherd shall appear,
and that shall shortly be, this moment will
shortly be out.
What is to be refused in the way to this
crown ? All labour is sweet for it. And
what is there here to be desired to stay your
hearts, that we should not most willingly let
go, to rest from our labours, and receive our
crown ? Was ever any king sad to think
that the day of his coronation drew nigh ?
There will be no envy, nor jealousies, but all
kings, each with his crown, and each rejoic-
ing in the glory of another ; and all in his,
who that day shall be all in all.
VEFV. 5. Likewise ye younger, submit yourselves
unto the elder ; yea, all of you be subject one to
another, and be clothed with humility ; for God
resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the
humble.
SIN hath disordered all ; so that nothing is
to be found but distemper and crookedness
in the condition and ways of men towards
God, and towards one another, till a new
Spirit come in and rectify all : and very
much of that redress lies in this particular
grace of humility, here recommended by the
Apostle.
That regulates the carriage, 1. Of the
younger towards the elder. 1. Of all men
one to another. 3. Towards God.
1st. He enjoins the younger to be sub-
let to the elder. Which I take so to refer
to difference of years, that it hath some as-
pect likewise to the relation of those that arc
under the discipline and government of the
283
and improve it for their Lord and Master,
and look on no respect to themselves, as for
its own sake desirable, but only so far as is
needful for the profitable discharge and ad.
vancement of his work in their hands ! What
are human differences and regards, how empty
a vapour ! And whatsoever it is, nothing is
lost by single and entire love of our Lord's
glory, and total aiming at that : Them that
honour him, he will honour ; and those that
despise him, shall be despised, \ Sam. ii. 30-
But though this (likewise) implies, I
conceive, somewhat relative to the former sub-
ject, yet certainly its full scope is more ex-
tensive, and directs us, touching the differ-
ence of years, to yield the subjection, that is,
the respect and reverence, which is due from
younger to elder persons.
The presumption and unbridledness of
youth requires the pressing and binding on
of this rule : and it is of undeniable equity,
even written in nature, due to aged persons.
But, doubtless, those reap this due fruit in
that season the most, who have ripened it
most by the influence of their grave and holy
carriage. The hoary head is indeed a
crown ; but when ? when found in the way
of righteousness, Prov. xvi. 31. There it
shines, and hath a kind of royalty over youth :
otherwise, a graceless old age is a most des-
picable and lamentable sight. What gains
an unholy man or woman, by their scores of
years, but the more scores of guiltiness and
misery ? And their white hairs speak no-
thing but ripeness for wrath. Oh ! to be at,
a tree planted in the house of the Lord,
bringing forth fruit in old age, Psal. xcii.
12, 13. Much experience in the ways of
God, and much disdain of the world, and
much desire of the love of God, a heavenly
elders, vrgi<rSv<riiei ; who though not always ; temper of mind and frame of life ; this is the
such in years, ought however to suit that j advantage of many years. But to have seen
name in exemplary gravity and wisdom. It and felt the more misery, aud heaped up the
is no seigniory, but a ministry; yet there is more sin, the greatest bundle of it, against
a sacred authority in it, when rightly carried,
which both duly challenges, and effectually
commands, that respect and obedience which
is fit for the right order and government of
the house of God.
The Spirit of Christ in his ministers is
the thing that makes them truly elders, and
truly worthy of double honour ; and with-
out that, men may hunt respect and credit
by other parts ; and the more they follow it,
the faster it flies from them ; or if they catch
any thing of it, they only grasp a shadow.
Infer. Learn you, my brethren, that obe-
dience which is due to the discipline of God's
house. This is all we plead for in this point.
And know, if you refuse it, and despise the
ordinance of God, he will resent the indig-
nity as done to him. And Oh ! that all
who have that charge of his house upon them
would mind his interest wholly, and not rise
in conceit of thoir power, but wholly employ
the day of wrath, a woeful treasure of ii,
threescore, or threescore and ten years .a-
gathering, and with so much increase every
day ; no vacancy, no dead years, no, not a
day wherein it was not growing ! How de-
plorable a case !
A sad reflection to look back, what have I
done for God ? and to find nothing, but such
a world of sin committed against him . How
much better he that gets home betimes in
his youth, if once delivered from sin and
death, at one with God, and some way ser- „,
viceable to him, or desiring to be so, and
hath a quick voyage, having lived much in
a little time.
' 2. The precept also regulates the carriage
of all men to each other : All of you be sub.
ject one to another. This yet farther dilates
the duty, makes it universally mutual, one
subject to another. This directly turns about
the vain contest of men, that arises from the
28G
natural mischief of self-love ; every one would
carry it, and be best and highest. The very
company, of Christ, and his exemplary lowli-
ness, and the meanness of himself and those
his followers, all these did not bar out this
frothy foolish question, Who should be
greatest ? and it was so far disputed, that it
occasioned heat about it, a strife amongst
them, Luke xxii. 24. Now, this rule is just
• opposite, each strives to be lowest, subject
one to another.
This does not annul either civil or church
government, nor those differences that are
grounded upon the law of nature, or of civil
society ; for we see immediately before, that
such differences are allowed, and the parti-
cular duties of them recommended ; but it
only requires that all due respect, according
to their station, be given by each Christian
to another ; and though there cannot be such
a subjection of masters or parents to their ser-
vants and children, as is due to them from
these, yet a lowly meek carrying of their au-
thority, a tender respect of their youth, receiv-
ing of an admonition from them duly quali-
fied, is that which suits with the rule. And,
in general, not delighting in the trampling
on, or abusing of any, but rather seeking the
credit and good esteem of all as our own,
taking notice of that good in them, wherein
they are beyond us ; for all hath some ad-
vantage, and none hath all. And, in a word,
and it is that of St. Paul, like this of our
Apostle here, Rom. xii. 10, In honour pre-
ferring one another, q. d. Let this be all
the strife, who shall put most respect each on
another, according to the capacity and station
of each one : in giving honour, go each one
before another.*
Now, that such carriage may be sincere,
no empty compliment, or court holy water,
(as they speak,) but a part of the solid holi-
ness of a Christian, the Apostle requires the
true principle of such deportment, the grace
of humility. That a Christian put on that,
not the appearance of it, to act in as a stage-
garment, but the truth of it, as their constant
habit, Be ye clothed with humility. It
must appear in your outward carriage ; so
the resemblance of clothing imports ; but let
it appear, as really it is, so the very name
of it imports. It is not rctvuvotpavia, but
<ra.<rtivo(p(>oirvvv, not a shew of humility, but
heart lowliness, humility of mind.
As it is the bent of humility to hide other
graces, so far as piety to God and our bre-
thren will permit, so it would willingly hide
itself; loves not to appear but as necessity
urges : appear it must, and doth somewhat
more appear than many other graces do,
though it seeks not to appear. It is seen as
a modest man or woman's apparel, which
they wear not for that end that it may be
T5? rt
[CHAP, v
seen, and do not gaudily flaunt and delight
in dressing ; though there is a decency as
well as necessity, which they do and may
have respect to, yet that in so neat and un-
affected a way, that they are a good example
even in that point. Thus humility in car-
riage and words is as the decorum of this
clothing, but the main is the real usefulness
of it.
And therefore, a truly humble man desires
much not to appear humble ; yea, were it
not for disedifying his brethren, he would
rather disguise and hide not only other things
by humility, but even humility itself; and
would be content, upon mistake of some
words or gestures, to pass for proud and vain,
being humble within, rather than to be big
in his own eyes, under a semblance of out-
ward holiness : yea, were it not that charity
and piety do both forbid it, he would not
care to do some things on purpose that might
seem arrogant, to carry humility unseen, that
doth so naturally delight in covering of all
graces, and is sorry that it cannot do so with-
out being seen itself, as that garment that
covers the rest must of necessity be seen it-
self. But seeing it must be so, it is with
the least show that may be, as a dark veil
cast about rich attire hides their show, and
makes very little itself.
This therefore is mainly to be studied,
that the seat of humility be the heart. Al«
though it will be seen in the carriage, yet as
little as it can ; as few words as may be con-
cerning itself: and those it doth speak must
be the real thoughts of the mind, and not an
aft'ected voice of it, differing from the inward
sense ; otherwise humble speech and carriage
only put on without, and not fastened in the
inside, is the most refined and subtle, and
indeed the most dangerous kind of pride.
And this I would recommend as a safe way .
ever let thy thoughts concerning thyself be
below what thou utterest: and what thou
seest needful or fitting to say to thy own
abasement, ' be not only content (which most
are not) to be taken at thy word, and believ-
ed to be such by them that hear thee, but be
desirous of it : and let that be the end of thy
speech, to persuade them, and gain it of them,
that they really take thee for as worthless
and mean as thou dost express thyself.
Inf. 1. But how little are we acquainted
with the real frame of Christianity ; the most
living without a rule, not laying it to their
words and ways at all, nor yielding so much
as a seeming obedience to the gospel ; others
take up a kind of professing, and think all
consists in some religious performances, and
do not study the inward reserve of their
heart-evils, nor labour to have that temple
purged ; for the heart should be a temple,
and it stands in much need of sweeping out
the filthiness, and putting out idols. Some
there be, who are much busied about the
VER. 5.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
287
matter of their assurance, still upon that
point, which is lawful indeed, and laudable,
to inquire after, yet not so as to neglect other
things more needful. It were certainly better
for many, when they find no issue that way,
to turn somewhat of their diligence to the
study of Christian graces and duties in their
station, and to task themselves for a time,
were it to the more special seeking, first of
some one grace and then of another, as meek-
ness and patience, and this particularly of
humility. To be truly heart-humble, many
men despise it in others, but some that will
commend it in the general, or in some of those
in whom they behold it ; yet seek not to put
it on themselves : They love to be more gay,
and to seem to by somebody, and will not
abase themselves. It is the way, say they,
to be undone : this clothing is too poor a
stuff, and of too sad a colour for them. Oh !
my brethren, you know not the excellency of
it, ye look out at a distance, and judge ac-
cording to your light, vain minds : but will
you see it by the light of the word, and then
you shall perceive much hidden richness and
comeliness in it : and do not only approve it
and call it comely on others, but put it on,
and so it is most comely. And as it is with
respect to all graces, so particularly this
clothing of humility, though it makes least
show, yet come near, and you will see it both
rich and comely ; and though it hides other
graces, yet when they do appear under it, as
sometimes they will, a little glance of them
so, makes them much more esteemed. Re-
becca's beauty and her jewels were covered
with a veil ; but when they did appear, the
veil set them off, and commended them,
though at a distance it hid them.
2. In all, so particularly in this grace, take
heed of a disguise or counterfeit of it. Oh !
Sincerity is all in all, and particularly in this,
only be low in thine own eyes, and willing
to be so in the eyes of others ; that is the
very upright nature of this heart-humility.
1. Not deluded with false conceit of ad-
vantages thou hast not. 2. Not swelled with
a vain conceit of those thou really hast. 3.
Not affecting to be esteemed by others, either
upon their imagining thee to have some good
that is not in thee, or discerning that which
is. Is not the day at hand, when men will
be taken off the false heights they stand on,
and set on their own feet ; and when all the
esteem of others shall vanish and pass away
like smoke, and thou shalt be just what God
finds and accounts thee, and neither more
nor less ? Oh ! the remembrance of that
day, when a true estimate will be made ol
all ; this would make men hang less upon
the unstable conceits and opinions of one an.
other, knowing our judgment and day shal
shortly end. Be it little or much thou hast,
the lower and closer thou earnest it under
tha cloak, the safer shall it and thou be, the
•nore shall it increase ; and thou shalt be the
iker Him in whom all fulness dwells ; in
his he hath most expressly set himself before
us as our pattern ; and one says well, " Sure
nan might now be constrained to be proud,
br whom God himself became humble."
Now, to work the heart to a humble pos.
true, 1 . Look into thyself in earnest ; and,
truly, whosoever thou be that hast the high-
est conceit of thyself, and the highest causes
of it, a real sight of thyself will lay thy crest.
M en look on any good, or fancy of it, in
themselves, with both eyes, and skip over,
as unpleasant, their real defects and deformi-
ties. Every man is naturally his own flat-
terer ; otherwise flatteries, and false cryings
up from others, would make little impres-
sion ; but hence their success, they meet the
same conceit within. But will any man see
his ignorance, and lay what he knows not,
over against what he knows ; the disorders
in his heart and affections, over against any
right motion in them ; his secret follies and
sins, against his outwardly blameless car-
riage ; and this man shall not readily love
and embrace himself; yea, it shall be im-
possible for him not to abase and abhor him-
self. 2. Look on the good in others, and
the evil in thyself. Blake that the parallel,
and then thou wilt walk humbly. Most
men do just the contrary, and that foolish
and unjust comparison puffs them up. 3.
Thou art not required to be ignorant of that
good, which really is so indeed : but beware
of imagining that to be good which is not ;
yea, rather let something that is truly good
pass thy view, and see it within rather than
beyond its true size. And then, whatsoever
it be, see it not as thine own, but God's, his
free gift ; and so the more thou hast, looking
on it in that view, thou wilt certainly be the
more humble, as having the more obliga-
tions : the weight of them will press thee
down, and lay thee still lower ; as you see it
in Abraham, the clear visions and promises
he had, made him fall down flat to the
ground, Gen. xv. 12. 4. Pray much for the
spirit of humility, the Spirit of Christ : for
that is it ; otherwise all thy vileness will not
humble thee. When men hear of this or
other graces, and how reasonable they are,
they think presently to have them, and do
not consider the natural enmity and rebellion
of their own hearts, and the necessity of re-
ceiving them from Heaven : and therefore in
the use of all other means, be most depend-
ent on that influence, and most in that mean,
which opens the heart most to that influence,
and draws it down upon the heart, and that
is prayer.
Of all the evils of our corrupt nature,
there is none more connatural and universal
than pride ; the grand wickedness, self-exalt-
ing in our own and others' opinion. Though
I will not contest what was the first step in
288
that complicated first sin, yet certainly thif
of pride was one, and a main ingredient in
it ; that which the unbelief conceived going
before, and the disobedience following after
were both servants to ; and ever since it stick?
still deep in our nature. So that St. Au-
gustine says truly, " That, which first over-
came man, is the last thing he overcomes.'
Some sins, comparatively, may die before us
but this hath life in it, sensibly, as long as
ve. It is as the heart of all, the first living,
«nd the last dying ; and hath this advantage,
that, whereas other sins are fomented by one
another, this feeds even on virtues and graces,
t.s a moth that breeds in them, and con-
sumes them ; even in the finest of them, if
it be not carefully looked to. This hydra,
as one head of it is cut off, another rises up :
it will secretly cleave to the best actions, and
prey upon them : and therefore is there so
much need, that we continually watch and
fight, and pray against it ; and be restless in
the pursuit of real and deep humiliation,
daily advancing further in it ; to be nothing,
and desire to be nothing ; not only to bear,
but to love our own abasement, and the things
that procure and help it ; to take pleasure in
them, so far as may be without sin ; yea,
even of our sinful failings, when they are dis-
covered, to love the bringing low of ourselves,
by them, while we hate, and grieve for the
sin of them.
And, above all, it is necessary to watch
ourselves in our best things, that self get not
in : or, if it break in, or steal in at any time,
that it be presently found out and cast out
again ; to have that established within us.
to do all for God ; to intend him and his
glory in all, and to be willing to advance his
glory, were it by our own disgrace ; not to
make raising or pleasing thyself the rule of
exercising thy parts and graces, when thou
art called to use and bring them forth ; but
the good of thy brethren, and in that the
glory of thy Lord. Now this is indeed to
be severed from self, and united to him, to
have self-love turned into the love of God.
And this is his own work ; it is above all
other hands ; therefore the main combat
against pride, and the conquest of it, and
gaining of humility, is certainly by prayer.
God bestows himself most to them that are
most abundant in prayer ; and they, to whom
he shows himself most, are certainly the
most humble.
Now, to stir us up to diligence in the
study and exercise of this grace, take briefly
a consideration or two.
1. Look on that above pointed at, the
high example of lowliness set before us;
Jesus Christ requiring our particular care to
take this lesson from him. And is it not
most reasonable? He, the most fair, the
most excellent and complete of all men, and
yet the most humble : He, more than a man,
[CHAP. v.
and yet willingly became, in some sort, less
than a man, as it is expressed, a worm and
no man, Psal. xxii. 6 ; and when majesty
itself emptied itself, and descended so low,
shall a worm swell and be high-conceited ?
Then, consider it was for us he humbled
himself, to expiate our pride ; and therefore
it is evidently the more just that we follow
a pattern which is both so great in itself, and
doth so nearly concern us. " O humility !
the virtue of Christ, (that which he so pecu.
liarly espoused,) how dost thou confound the
vanity of our pride ?"
2. Consider the safety of grace under this
clothing. It is that which keeps it unex-
posed to a thousand hazards. Humility
doth grace no prejudice in covering it, but
indeed shelters it from violence and wrong ;
therefore they do justly call it, conservatrix
virtutum, the preserver of grace ; and one
says well, " That he who carries other graces
without humility, carries a precious powder
in the wind without a cover."
3. Consider the increase of grace by it,
and that is here expressed ; the perfect en-
mity of God against pride, and his bounty
towards humility ; He resisteth the proud,
and giveth grace to the humble.
1. The enmity of God against the proud,
he resisteth them, a.vrnu.ui<ra.t •, he singles
it out for his grand enemy, and sets himself
in battle-array against it, so the word is,
It breaks the ranks of men in which he hath
set them, when they are not subject, l<ro-
i, as the word is before ; yea, it not
only breaks rank, but rises up in rebellion
against God, and doth what it can to de«
throne him and usurp his place ; therefore
he orders his forces against it ; and to be
sure, if God be able to make his party good,
pride shall not escape him. He will break
it, and bring it low ; for he is set upon that
purpose, and will not be diverted.
2. The bounty of God to the humble ;
But he giveth grace. Pours it out plenti-
fully upon humble hearts. His sweet dews
and showers of grace slide off the mountains
of pride, and fall on the low vallies of
numble hearts, and makes them pleasant and
fertile. The swelling heart, puffed up with
a fancy of fulness, hath no room for grace.
It is lifted up, is not hollowed and fitted to
receive and contain the graces that descend
*rom above. And again, as the humble
leart is most capacious, and, as being emp-
ied and hollowed, can hold most, so it is
nost thankful, acknowledges all as receiv-
ed ; but the proud cries, all is his own.
The return of glory that is due from grace,
comes most freely and plentifully from an
nimble heart ; God delights to enrich it with
;race, and it delights to return him glory.
The more he bestows on it, the more it de-
ires to honour him with all ; and the more it
loth so, the more leadily he bestows still
VER. 5.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
289
raore upon it ; and this is the sweet inter-
course betwixt God and the humble soul.
This is the noble ambition of humility, in
respect whereof, all the aspirings of pride are
low and base. When all is reckoned, the
lowliest mind is truly the highest ; and these
two agree so well, that the more lowly it is,
it is thus the higher ; and the higher thus,
it is still the more lowly.
Oh ! my brethren, want of this is a great
cause of all our wants. Why should our
God bestow on us what we would bestow on
our idol-self; or if not to idolize thyself, yet
to idolize the thing, the gift that grace
bestowed, to fetch thy believing and com-
forts from that, which is to put it in his
place that gave, and to make Baal of it, as
some would render Hosea ii. 8.* Now he
will not furnish thee thus to his own preju-
dice therein ; seek therefore to have thine
heart on a high design, seeking grace still,
not to rest in any gift, nor to grow vain and
regardless of him upon it. If we had but
this fixed with us ; " What gift or grace I
leekj what comfort I seek, it shall be no
sooner mine, but it shall be all thine again,
and myself with it. I desire nothing from
thee but that it may come back to thee, and
draw me with it unto thee. This is all my
end, and all my desire :" The request thus
presented would not come back so often
unanswered.
This is the only way to grow quickly rich ;
come still poor to him that hath enough ever
to enrich thee, and desire of his riches, not
for thyself, but for him. Mind entirely his
glory in all thou hast and seekest to have.
What thou hast, use so, and what thou
wantest, vow that thou wilt use it so ; let it
be his in thy purpose, even before it be thine
in possession, as Hannah did in her suit for
a son, 1 Sam. i. 11, and thou shall obtain
as she did ; and then, as she was, be thou
faithful in the performance ; Him whom I
received (says she, ver. 27, 28,) by peti-
tion, I have returned to the Lord.
It is undoubtedly the secret pride and
selfishness of our hearts that obstructs much
of the bounty of God's hand in the measure
of our graces, and the sweet embraces of his
love, which we should otherwise find. The
more that we let go of ourselves, still the
more should we receive of himself. Oh, fool-
ish we, that refuse so blessed an exchange !
To this humility, as in these words it is
taken in the notion of our inward thoughts
touching ourselves, and our carriage in rela-
tion to others, the Apostle joins the other
humility, in relation to God ; being indeed
the different actings of one and the same
grace, and inseparably connected each with
the other, which we are next to consider.
* The words Gncau Lebagnal, which we render,
which they prepared for Baal, may, as the margin
notes, be translated, wherewith they made Baal.
VER. 6. Humble yourselves, therefore, under the
mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in
due time.
THIS is pressed by reason, both of equity
and necessity, in that word, the mighty
hand of God. He is the Sovereign Lord of
all, and all things do obeisance to him ;
therefore it is just that you, his people, pro-
fessing loyalty and obedience to him, be most
submissive and humble in your subjection to
him in all things. Again, the necessity,
his mighty hand : There is no striving ; it
is a vain thing to flinch and struggle, for he
doth what he will ; and his hand is so
mighty, that the greatest power of the crea-
ture is nothing to it. Yea, it is all indeed
derived from him, and therefore cannot do
any whit against him ; and if thou wilt not
yield, thou must yield ; if thou wilt not be
led, thou shall be pulled and drawn ; there-
fore submission is your only course.
The third reason, by which humility is
pressed, is that of utility or certain advan-
tage, as there is nothing to be gained, yea,
rather as you are certainly ruined by reluc-
tance, so this humble submission is the only
way to gain, if gain be the point you aim al.
What would you have under any affliction,
but be delivered, and raised up ; thus alone
you attain that, humble yourselves, and ha
shall raise you up in due time.
This is the end why he humbles you, lays
weights upon you, that you may be depress,
ed. Now, when it is gained, that you are
willingly so, then the weights are taken ofT,
and you are lifted up by his gracious hand.
Otherwise, it is not enough, that he hath
humbled you by his hand, unless you
humble yourselves under his hand. Many
have had great and many pressures, one af-
fliction after another, and been humbled,
and yet not made humble, as they common-
ly express the difference : humbled by force
in regard of their outward condition, but not
humbled in their inward temper ; and there-
fore, as soon as the weight is off, like heaps
of wool, they rise up again, and grow as big
as they were.
If we would consider this in our particular
trials, and aim at this deportment, it were
our wisdom. Are they not mad, that,
under any stroke, quarrel or struggle against
God ? What gain vour children thus al
your hands, but more blows ? Nor is this
only an unseemly and unhappy way, openly
to resist and strive, out even secretly to fret
and grumble : for ne hears the least whis-
pering of the heart, and looks most how thai
behaves itself under nis hand. Oh ! humble
acceptance of his chastisement is our duty
and our peace ; that which gains most on
the heart of our Father, and makes the rod
fall soonest out of his hand.
And not only should we learn this, in our
outward things, but in our spiritual condi«
290
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP, v
tion, as (lie thing the Lord is much pleasec
with in his children. There is a stubborn,
ness and fretting of heart concerning ou
souls, that arises from pride and the untam.
edness of our nature ; and yet some take a
pleasure in it, touching the matter of com-
fort and assurance, if it be withheld ; or
which they take more liberty in, if it be
sanctification and victory over sin they seek ,
and yet find little or no success. But the
Lord holding them under in these, they then
vex themselves, and wax more discontented,
and nothing pleases them ; as peevish chil-
dren, upon the refusal of somewhat they
would have, take displeasure, and make no
account of the daily provision made for
them, and all the other benefits they have
by the care and love of their parents. This
is a folly very unbeseeming the children that
are the children of wisdom, and should walk
as' such ; and till they learn more humble
respect for their Father's will, they are still
the farther off from their purpose. Were
they once brought to submit the matter, and
give him heartily his will, he would readily
give them theirs, as far as were for their
good ; as you say to your children of any
tiling they are too stiff and earnest in, and
make a noise for, " Cry not for it, and you
shall have it."
And this is the thing we observe not, that
the Lord often by his delays is aiming at
this ; and were this done, we cannot think
how graciously he would deal with us. His
gracious design is to make much room for
grace by much humbling ; especially in
some spirits that need much trying, or when
he means much to enable for some singular
service ; and thus the time is not lost, as we
are apt to imagine, but it furthers our end,
while we think the contrary. It is neces-
sary time and pains that is given to the un-
ballasting of a ship, casting out the earth
and sand, when it is to be loaden with
spices. We must be emptied more, if we
would have of that fulness and riches which
we are longing for.
So long as we foam and chase against his
way, though it be in our best suits, we are
not in a posture for a favourable answer.
Would we wring things out of his hand by
fretfulness ? that is not the way ; no, but
present humble submissive suits : " Lord,
this is my desire, but thou art wise and gra-
cious ; I refer the matter to thy will for the
thing, and for the measure, and time, and
all." Were we moulded to this composure,
then were mercy near. When he had gain-
ed this, broke our will and tamed our stout-
ness, then he relents and pities. See Jer.
xxx. 17, 18, Because they called thee an
outcast, &c. thus saith the Lord, Behold,
I will bring again the captivity of Jacob's
tents, &c.
This I would recommend in any estate,
the humble folding under the Lord's hand,
kissing the rod, and falling low before him.
And this is the way to be raised. But one,
perhaps, may think he hath tried this awhile,
and is still at the same point, hath gained
nothing, and he may therefore be ready to
fall back to his old repinings : Let such a
one know his humbling and compliance was
not upright. It was a fit of false constrain-
ed submission, and therefore lasts not ; it
was hut a tempting of God, instead of sub-
mitting to him. " Oh ! will he have a sub-
mission ? I will try it, but with this re-
serve, that if after such a time I gain not
what I seek, I shall think it is lost, and that
I have reason to return to my discontent."
Though the man says not thus, yet this
temper is secretly under it. But wouldst
thou have it right, it must be without condi-
tion, without reserve ; no time, nor any thing,
prescribed ; and then he will make his word
good, He will raise thee up.
And that in due time. Not thy fancied
time, but his own wisely appointed time.
Thou thinkest, now I am sinking, if he help
not now, it will be too late ; yet he sees it
otherwise ; he can let thee sink yet lower,
and yet bring thee up again ; he doth but
stay till the most fit time. Thou canst not
see it yet, but thou shalt see it, that his
chosen time is absolutely best ; God waiteth
to be gracious, Isa. xxx. 18. Doth he wait,
and wilt not thou ? Oh ! the firm belief of
his wisdom, power and goodness, what diffi-
culty will it not surmount ? So then be
humble under his hand ; submit not only
thy goods, thy health, thy life, but thy soul.
Seek and wait for thy pardon as a condemn-
ed rebel, with thy rope about thy neck.
Lay thyself low before him, stoop at his
feet, and crave leave to look up, and speak,
and say, " Lord, I am justly under the sen-
tence of death,
righteous, and
If I fall under it, thou art
I do here acknowledge it ;
but there is deliverance in Christ, thither I
would have recourse ; yet if I be beaten
iack, and held out, and faith withheld from
me, and I perish, as it were, in view of sal-
vation, if I see the rock, and yet cannot
come at it, but drown ; what have I to say ?
In this likewise thou art righteous. Only, if
t seem good unto thee to save the vilest, most
wretched of sinners, and shew great mercy
n pardoning so great debts, the higher will
je the glory of that mercy. However, here
[ am resolved to wait, till either thou gra-
ciously receive me, or absolutely reject me.
tf thou do this, I have not a word to say
against it ; but because thou art gracious, I
lope, I hope, thou wilt yet have mercy on
I dare say that the promise in the text
>elongs to such a soul, and it shall be rait>-
•d up in due time.
And what though most or all of our life
hould pass without much sensible taste even
VER. 7-]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
291
of spiritual comforts ; a poor all it is. Let
us not over esteem this moment, and so
think too much of our better or worse condi-
tion in it, either in temporals, yea, or in
spirituals, such as are more arbitrary and
accessory to the name of our spiritual life.
Provided we can humbly wait for free grace,
and depend on the word of promise, we are
safe. If the Lord will clearly shine on us,
and refresh us, this is much to be desired
and prized ; but if he so think fit, what if
we should be all our days held at a distance,
and under a cloud of wrath ? It is but a
moment in his anger, Psal. xxx. 5. Then
follows a lifetime in his favour, an endless
lifetime. It is but weeping, as it there
follows, for a night, and joy comes in the
morning, that clearer morning of eternity, to
which no evening succeeds.
VER. 7- Casting all your care upon him, for he
careth for you.
AMONGST other spiritual secrets, this is
one, and a prime one, the combination of
lowliness and boldness, humble confidence :
This is the true temper of a child of God
towards his great and good Father : nor can
any other have it, but they that are indeed
his children, and have within them that
spirit of adoption, which he sends into
their hearts, Gal. iv. 6.
And these two the Apostle here joins toge-
ther, Humble yourselves under the hand of
God, and yet cast your care on him : upon
that same hand under which you ought to
humble yourselves, must you withal cast
over your care, all your care, for he careth
for you.
Consider, 1. The nature of this confidence,
casting all your care on him. 2. The
ground or warrant of it, for he careth for
you.
1. For the nature of it, every man hath
some desires and purposes that are predomi-
nant with him, beside those that relate to
the daily exigencies of life with which he is
compassed ; and in both according to their
importance or his esteem, and the difficulties
occurring in them, he is naturally carried to
be proportionally thoughtful and careful in
them. Now the excess and distemper of this
care is one of the great diseases and miseries
of man's life. Moral men, perceiving and
resenting it, have been tampering at the cure,
and prescribing after their fashion, but with
little success. Some present abatement and
allay of the paroxysm or extremity, their rules
may reach ; but they never go near the bot-
tom, the cause of the evil ; and therefore
cannot work a thorough sound cure of it.
Something they have spoken, somewhat
fitly, of the surpassing nature's rule and
size in the pursuit of superfluous, needless
things ; but for the unavoidable care of things
reedful. they know no redress, but refer men
entirely to their own industry and diligence.
They can tell how little will serve him, that
seeks no more than what will serve ; but how
to be provided of the little, or to be assured
of it, and freed from troubling care, they can-
not tell.
Now, truly, it were a great point to be
well instructed in the former ; and it is ne-
cessary for the due practice of this rule here
given, touching necessary cares, first to cut
off cares unnecessary, to retrench all extra-
vagant superfluous desires. For, certainly,
a great part of the troubling cares of men
relate merely to things that are such as have
no other necessity in them, but what our
disordered desires create, nor truly any real
good in them, but what our fancy puts upon
them. Some are indeed forced to labour
hard for their daily bread ; but undoubted-
ly, a great deal of the sweat and toil of the
greatest part of men is about unnecessaries *.
Such an estate, so much by the year, such a
place, so much honour and esteem, and rank
in the world : these are the things that make
some slaves to the humours of others whom
they court, and place their dependance on,
for these ends : and those, possibly, to whom
they are so enthralled, are themselves at as
little liberty, but captivated to the humours
of some others, either above them, or thai
being below them, may give accession and
furtherance to their ends of enrichment, ad-
vancement, or popularity. Men set on these
things forget necessities to themselves, and
make vain things as necessary as food and
raiment, resolving that they will have them,
or fall in the chase, being wilfully and un-
avoidably bent on them. They that will be
rich, says the Apostle, I Tim. vi. 1), that are
resolved on it upon any terms, meet with
terms hard enough ; they fall into tempta-
tion, and a snare, and into many foolish
and hurtful lusts, which drown men in de-
struction and perdition. There is no re-
covering, but still they are plunged deepei
and deeper, and these are foolish lusts too,
unreasonable, childish desires : after one bar-
gain, such another ; and after one sin, an-
other to make even ; and somewhat then to
keep that whole ; and so on without end.
If their hearts are set upon purchase and
land, still some house or neighbour field,
some Naboth's vineyard is in his eyes, and
all the rest is nothing without that, which
discovers the madness of this humour, thi»
dropsy-thirst.
And this is the first thing indeed to be
looked to, that our desires and cares be
brought to a due compass ; and what would
we have ? DJ we think contentment lies in
so much, and no less ? Alas ! when that is
attained, it shall appear as far off as before.
When children are at the foot of a high hill,
they think it reaches the heavens ; and yet
» Ad supervacua sudatur.
292
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. v.
if they were there, they find themselves as far
off as before, at least not sensibly nearer.
Men think, Oh ! had I this, I were well ;
and when it is reached, it is but an advanced
standing to look higher, and spy out for some
other thing.
We are indeed children in this, to think
the good of our estate is in the greatness, and
not in the fitness of it for us. He were a
fool that would have his clothes so ; and
think the bigger and longer they were, they
would please him the better. And certainly
as in apparel, so in place and estate, and all
outward things, their good lies not in their
greatness, but in their fitness for us : as our
Saviour tells us expressly, that man's life
consisteth not in the abundance of the things
he posscsseth, Luke xii. 13. Think you
great and rich persons live more content ; be-
lieve it not. If they will deal freely, they
can tell you the contrary ; that there is no-
thing but a shew in them ; and that great
estates and places have great grief and cares
attending them, as shadows are proportioned
to their bodies.
And if they have no real crosses, luxury
frames troubles to itself; variety of dishes
corrupting the stomach, and causing variety
of diseases : and for need, fantastic vain dis-
contents that will trouble men as much as
greater, be it but this hawk flies not well, or
that dog runs not well, to men whose hearts
are in those games.
So then, I say, this is first to be regulat-
ed : all childish, vain, needless cares are to
be discharged, and, as being unfit to cast on
thy God, are to be quite cast out of thy heart.
Entertain no cares at all but such as thou
mayest put into God's hands, and make his
on thy behalf : such as he will take off thy
hand, and undertake for thee.
All needful, lawful care, and that only,
will he receive ; so then rid thyself quite of
all that thou canst not take this course with,
and then, without scruple, take confidently
this course with all the rest. Seek a well-
regulated sober spirit. In the things of this
life, be content with food and raiment, not
delicates, but food, not ornament, but rai-
ment, T(>i>q>riv ou T^utfifiVf trxfratrftara ol xetr-
(irtpaTu, -. and conclude, that what thy Fa-
ther carves to thee is best for thee ; the
fittest measure, for he knows it, and loves
thee wisely. This course our Saviour would
have thee take, Matt. vi. 31, first, to cut off
superfluous care, then to turn over on thy
God the care of what is necessary : he will look
to that, thou hast him engaged, and he can
and will give thee beyond that, if he see it
fit.
Only this is required of thee, to refer the
matter to his discretion wholly. Now, in
thy thus well-regulated affairs and desires,
there is a diligent care and study of thy duty.
This he lays on thee : there is a care of supl
port in the work, and the success of it ; this
thou oughtest to lay on him, and so indeed
all the care is turned off from thee upon him,
even that of duty, which from him lies on us.
We offer our service, but for skill and
strength to discharge it, that care welay on him,
and he allows us : and then for the event and
success, with that we trust him entirely. And
this is the way to walk contentedly and cheer-
fully homewards, leaning and resting all the
way on him, who is both our guide and
our strength, who hath us and all our good
in his gracious hand. Much zeal for him,
and desire of his glory, minding our duty in
relation to that, is the thing he requires, and
we bending our whole care to that, he under-
takes the care of us and our condition. As
that king said to his favourite, when persuad-
ing him to fidelity and diligence in his state
trust, " Do my affairs, and I will do yours."
Such a word directly hath St. Chrysostom,
2u ftigiftvijerov TO. TOV &t/}U, x.a.1 O.VTOS p.li>i[Avr,<rit
T« rev. li If thou have a concern for the things
that are God's, he will also be careful of
thee and thine."
The care of duty thus carried is sweet and
light, doth not cut p,nd divide the mind, it is
united and gathered in God, and rests there,
and walks in his hand all the way. He
bears the weight of all our works, works them
in us, and for us, and therein lies our peace
that he ordains for us, Isa. xxvi. 12. If
thou wouldst shake off the yoke of obedience,
thou art likewise to be shaken off thyself;
but if in humble diligence in the ways of
God, thou walk on in his strength, there is
nothing concerns thee and thy work, but he
will take the charge and care of it, thyself
and all thine interests. Art thou troubled
with fear, enemies, and snares ? untrouble
thyself of that, for he is with thee. He hath
promised to lead thee in a straight and safe
path, Psal. xxvii. 11 ; and to rebuke all
thine enemies, to subdue thine iniquities
for thee, Micah vii. 19, and to fight against
those that fioht against thee, Psal. xxxv. 1.
No weapon formed against thee shall pro-
sper, Isa. liv. 17; yea, when thou passest
through the water and through the fire, he
will be with thee, Isa. xliii. 2. Doth thine
own weakness discourage thee ? hath he not
spoke of strengthening the weak hands and
feeble knees, and that the lame shall leap
as an hart % Isa. xxxv. 3, 6 ; and though
there is nothing in thyself but unrighteous,
ness and weakness, yet there is in him for
thee righteousness and strength, Isa. xiv. 24.
Righteousness, to express the abundance of
righteousness. When thou art ready to
'aint, a look to him will revive, a believing
ook draws in of his strength to thy soul, and
renews it, Isa. xl. 29. And know, the more
tender and weak thou art, the more tender he
is over thee, and the more strong will he be
in thee. He feeds his flock like a shepherd,
VER. 7-1
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
293
and the weakest he is the most careful of
they are carried in his arms and bosom
Isa. xl. 11, and it is easy for the feeblest to
go so.
And as for the issue and success of thy
way, let not that trouble thee at all ; that i
the care he would have thee wholly disburden
thyself of, and lay it entirely upon him. Do
not vex thyself with thinking, how will this
and that be ? what if this and the other fal
out ? This is his part wholly ; and if thou
meddle with it, thou at once displeasest him,
and disquietest thyself. This sin carries the
punishment of it close tied to it. If thou
wilt be struggling with that which belongs
not to thee, and poising at that burden that
is not thine, what wonder, yea, I may say,
what pity if thou fall under it ? Art thou
not well served ? Is it not just, that if thou
wilt do for thyself, and bear for thyself what
thy Lord calls for to bear for thee, thou feel
the weight of it to thy cost ?
But what is the way of this devolving of
my burden ? There is a faculty in it that
every one hath not, though they would do
thus with it, they cannot. It lies on them,
and they arc not able to cast it on God. The
way is doubtless by praying and believing ;
those are the hands by which the soul can
turn over to God what itself cannot bear, all
cares ; the whole bundle is most dexterously
translated thus, Phil. iv. 6, Be careful in
nothing ; a great word, Oh ! but how shall
it be ? why thus, says he, In all things
make your requests known unto God, and
in a confident cheerful way, supplication
mixt with thanksgiving. It will be the
more lively and active to carry forth, and
carry up thy cares, and discharge thee of
them, and lay them on God. Whatsoever
it is that presses thee, go tell thy Father.
Put over the matter into his hand, and so
thou shalt be freed from [at^ipva., that divid-
ing, perplexing care, that the world is full of.
No more, but when thou art either to do
or suffer any thing, when thou art about any
purpose or business, go tell God of it, and
acquaint him with it ; yea burden him with
it, and thou hast done for matter of caring :
no more care, but quiet sweet diligence in
thy duty, and dependence on him for the
carriage of thy matters. And in this prayer,
faith acts : it is a believing requesting ; ask
in faith, not doubling ; so thou rollest over
all on him, that is the very proper working
of faith. The carrying the soul and all its
desires out of itself unto God, is so express-
ed, Psal. xxxvii. 5, Roll over on God ;
make one bundle of all ; roll thy cares and
thyself with them as one burden, all on thy
God.
Now, faith to do this stays itself on the
promise. It cannot move but on firm ground,
and the promises are its ground ; and for
tiiis end is this added, He careth for thee.
This must be established in the heart. I.
The firm belief of the divine Providence,
that all things are managed and ruled by it,
and that in highest power and wisdom ; that
there is no breaking of his purposes, nor re-
sisting of his power, Psal. xxxiii. 11, The
counsel of the Lord standeth for ever, and
the thoughts of his heart to all generations.
2. The belief of his gracious Providence to
his own people, that he orders all for their
true advantage, and makes all different lines
and ways concentre in their highest good ;
all to meet in that, how opposite soever in
appearance, Rom. viii. 28. 3. A particular
confidence of his good will towards thee, and
undertaking for thee. Now, if this be the
question, the promise resolves thee ; trust
him, and he takes on the trust, and there is
no other. Cast on him thy care, and he
takes it on, he cares for thee. His royal word
is engaged not to give thee the slip, if thou
do really lay it upon him, Psal. \\. 22. Cast
thy burden upon the Lord. Hand it over,
heave it upon him, and he shall sustain
thee, shall bear both, if thou trust him with
both ; both thee and thy burden : He shall
never suffer the righteous to be moved.
Inf. \. The children of God have the
only sweet life : the world thinks not so,
rather looks on them as poor, discontented,
lowring creatures ; but they see not what an
uncaring, truly secure life they are called to.
AVhile others are turmoiling and wrestling
each with his projects and burdens for him-
self, and at length crushed and sinking under
them, (for that is the end of all that do for
themselves,) the child of God goes free from
the pressure of all that concerns him ; for it
is laid over on his God. If he use his ad-
vantage, he is not racked with musings, Oh !
what will become of this and that ; but goes
on in the strength of God as he may ; oft'ers
up poor, but sincere endeavours to God, and
is sure of one thing, all shall be well. He
lays his affairs and himself on God, and so
tiath no pressing care : no care but the care
of love how to please, how to honour, his
Lord ; and in this he depends on him, too,
both for skill and strength : and, touching
the success of things, leaves that as none of
lis, to be burdened with ; casts it on God,
and he careth for it. They need not both
care, his care alone is sufficient ; hence peace,
inconceivable peace, Phil. iv. C, 7? Be care-
ful for nothing ; but in every thing, by
vrayer and supplication, with thanksgiv-
ny, let your requests be made known unto
aod. And the peace of God, which pass-
ith all understanding, shall keep your
hearts and minds, through Jesus Christ.
Inf. 2. But, truly, the godly are much in
he wrong to themselves, by not improving
his their privilege. They too often forget
his their sweet way, and fret themselves to
no purpose ; wrestle with their burdens them-
294
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. v.
selves, and do not entirely and freely roll
them over on God. They are surcharged
with them, and he calls for them, and yet
they will not give them him. They think
to spare him, but indeed in this they disobey,
and dishonour, and so grieve him ; and they
find the grief return on them, and yet cannot
learn to be wise.
Why deal we thus with our God, and
with our souls, grieving both at once ? Let
it never be, that for any outward thing thou
perplex thyself, and entangle thy thoughts,
as in thickets, with the cares of this life.
Oh ! how unsuitable are these to a child of
God, for whom a life so far more excellent
is provided ! Hath he prepared a kingdom
for thee, and will he not bestow thy charges
in the way to it ? Think it not : He knows
you have need of these things, Matt. vi.
32. Seek not vain things, nor great things,
in the expression these things ; for these, it
is likely, are not fit for thee ; but what is
needful and convenient, in his judgment, he
will give ; and refer thyself cheerfully to that
judgment.
Then, for thy spiritual estate, lay over
upon God the care of that too : Be not so
much in thorny questionings, doubting and
disputing each step. Oh ! is this accepted
and that, and so much deadness, &c. ; but
apply more .thyself simply to thy duty ;
lamely as it may be, halt on, and believe
that he is gracious, and pities thee, and lay
the care of bringing thee through upon him.
Lie not complaining and arguing, but up
and be doing, and the Lord shall le with
thee, I Chron. xxii. 1C. I am persuaded
many a soul, that hath some truth of grace,
falls much behind in the progress, by this
accustomed way of endless questionings.
Men con scarce be brought to examine and
suspect their own condition, being carnally
secure, and satisfied that all is well ; but
then, when onee they awaken and set to this,
they are ready to entangle themselves in it,
and neglect their way, by poring on their
condition. They will not set cheerfully to
any thing, because they want assurances and
height of joy ; and this course they take is
the way to want it still. Walking humbly
and sincerely, and offering at thy duty, and
tvaiting on the Lord, is certainly the better
way, and nearer that very purpose of thine :
for he meetelh him that rejoiceth and
workelh righteousness, those that remem-
ber him in his ways, Tsa. Ixiv. 5. One thing
the Christian should endeavour to obtain,
firm belief for the Church ; all the care of
that must be cast on God, that he will
beautify Zion, and perform all his word to
her : and then think, Do I trust him for the
whole Church, and the great affairs concern,
ing it, and shall I doubt him for myself, or
any tiling that concerns me ? Do I confide
»«* him for the steering and guidance of the
whole ship, and shall be peevishly doubt-
ing and distrusting about my pack in it ?
Again, when to the present and past,
thou callest in after evils by advance, and
art still revolving the dangers before, and
thy weakness ; it is good, indeed, to enter-
tain by these, holy fear and self-distrust ;
but by that be driven in to trust on thy un-
dertaker, on him in whom thy strength lies ;
and be as sure and confident in him, as thou
art, and justly art, distrustful of thyself.
Further, learn to prescribe nothing ; study
entire resignation, for that is thy great duty
and thy peace, that gives up all into the
hand of thy Lord ; and, can it be in a
better hand ? First, refer the carving of out-
ward things to him, heartily and fully;
then stay not there, but go higher : If we
have renounced the comforts of this world
for God, let us add this, renounce even spi-
ritual comforts for him too. Put all in his
will : " If I be in light, blessed be thou ;
and if in darkness, even there, blessed be
thou too." As he saith of these, Gold is
mine, and silver is mine ; and this may
satisfy a Christian in those too, to desire no
more of them than his Father sees fit to
give ; knowing, that he, having all the
mines and treasures of the world at his
command, would not pinch and hold short
his children, if it were good for them to have
more : Even thus it is in respect to the
other, the true riches, " Is not the Spirit
(may lie say) and all his comforts mine ? I
have them, and enough of them." And
ought not this to allay thy afflicting care,
and to quiet thy repinings, and establish thy
heart, in referring it to his disposal, as
touching thy comforts and supplies ? The
whole golden mines of all spiritual comfort
and good are his, the Spirit itself. Then,
will he not furnish what is fit for thee, if
thou humbly attend on him, and lay the
care of providing for thee upon his wisdom
and love ? This were the sure way to ho-
nour him with what we have, and to obtain
much of what we have not ; for certainly he
deals best with those that do most absolutely
refer all to him.
VKR. 8. Be sober, be vigilant; because your adver-
sary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about,
seeking whom he may devour.
VER. 9. Whom resist stedfast in the faith, know-
ing that the same afflictions are accomplisru-d in
your brethren that are in the world.
THE children of God, if they rightly take
their Father's mind, are always disburdened
of perplexing carefulness, but never exempt-
ed from diligent watchfulness. Thus we
find here they are allowed, yea, enjoined, to
cast all their care upon their wise and loving
Father, and are secured by his care. He
takes it well that they lay all over on him,
yea, he takes it not well when they forbear
him and burden themselves. He hath pro-
VER. 8, 9-5
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
295
vided a sweet quiet life for them, could they; behind a man, driving and thrusting him
improve and use it ; a calm and firm condi- j forward, and not suffering him to set in
tion in all the storms and troubles that are | order his steps in his course ; this were the
about them. However things go, to find ready way, instead of advancing him, to
content, and be careful for nothing.
Now, upon this, a carnal heart would
imagine straight, according to its sense and
inclination, as it desires to have it, so would
it dream that it is ; that then a man, de-
volving his care on God, may give up all
watch and ward, and need not apply himself
to any kind of duty. But this is the igno-
rance and perverse mistake, the groundless
reasoning of the flesh. You see these are
here joined, not only as agreeable, but indeed
inseparable. Cast all your care on him,
for he carelh for you ; and withal, be sober,
be vigilant.
And this is the Scripture logic, It is he
thai worketh in you to will and to do,
Phil. ii. 13. Then would you possibly
think, I need not work at all, or if I do, it
may be very easily and securely. No.
Therefore, says the Apostle, because he
worketh in you to will and to do, work out
your salvation, yea, and do it with fear and
trembling ; work you, in humble obedience
to his command, and in dependence on him
that worketh all in you.
Thus, here, Cast your care on him ; not
•that you may be the more free to take your
own pleasure and slothful ease, but, on the
contrary, that you may be the more active
and apt to watch : Being freed from the
burden of vexful carefulness, which would
press and incumber you, you are the more
nimble, as one eased of a load, to walk and
work, and watch as becomes a Christian.
- And for that purpose is that burden taken
off from you, that you may be more able and
disposed for every duty which is laid upon
you.
Observe those two connected, and thence
gather, First, There is no right believing
•without diligence and watchfulness joined
with it. That slothful reliance of most
souls on blind thoughts of mercy will undo
them. Their faith is a dead faith, and a
deadly faith ; they are perishing, and will
not consider it, do not duly cast their care
on God for their souls, for indeed they have
• no such care. Secondly, .The other thing
is, that there is no right diligence without
believing.
There is, as in other affairs, so even in
spiritual things, an anxious perplexing care,
which is a distemper and disturbance to the
soul ; seems to have a heat of zeal and affec-
tion in it ; but is indeed not the natural
right heat that is healthful, and enables for
action, but a diseased feverish heat, that
puts all out of frame, and unfits for duty.
Jt seems to stir and further, but indeed it
hinders ; and does not hasten us, but so as
to make us stumble ; as if there was one
weary him, and possibly give him a fall.
Such is the distrustful care that many
have in their spiritual course : A hundred
questions about the way of their perfor-
mances, and their acceptance, and their
estate, and the issue of their endeavours.
Indeed, we should endeavour to do all by
our rule, and to walk exactly, and examine
our ways, especially in holy things ; to seek
some insight and faculty in their perfor-
mance suiting their nature and end, and his
greatness and purity whom we worship.
This should be minded diligently, and yet
calmly and composedly ; for diffident doubt,
ings do retard and disorder all ; but quiet
stayedness of heart on God, dependence on
him and his strength for performance, and
his free love in Christ for acceptance, this
makes the work go kindly and sweetly on,
makes it pleasing to Gou, and refreshing to
thy soul.
Inf. Certainly thou art a vexation to thy.
self, and displeasest thy Lord, when thou
art questioning whether thou shall go on or
not ; finding in thy service so much dead-
ness and hardness ; thinking, therefore, that
it were as good to do nothing ; that thou
dost but dishonour him in all. Now, thou
considerest not, that in these very thoughts
thou dost more wrong and dishonour him,
than in thy worst services, for thou callest in
question his lenity and goodness, takest him
for a rigorous exactor, yea, represeutest to thy.
self him as a hard master, who is the most
gentle and gracious of all masters. Do not
use him so : indeed thou oughtest to take heed
to thy foot ; see how thy heart is affected in
his worship, keep and watch it as thou canst ;
but doing so, or endeavouring to do, how-
ever thou find it, do not think he will use
rigours with thee ; but the more thou ob-
servest thine own miscarriages towards him,
the less severely will he observe them ; and
to think otherwise, and fret and repine, that
thy heart is not to his mind, nor indeed to
thine own, to go on in a discontented impa-
tience, this is certainly not this commanded
watchfulness, by that forbidden carefulness.
Be sober. ] This we have formerly spoke
of, the Apostle having formerly exhorted it
once and again in this epistle. It were easy
to entertain men's minds with new discourse,
if our task were rather to please than to pro-
fit ; for there be many things which with
little labour might be brought forth as new
and strange to ordinary hearers. But there
be a few things which chiefly concern us to
know and practise, and these are to be more
frequently represented and pressed. This
Apostle, and other divine writers, drew from
too full a spring to be ebb of matter; but
S96
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. v.
they rather choose profitable iterations, than
unprofitable variety ; and so ought we.
This sobriety is not only temperance in
meat and drink, but in all things that con-
cern the flesh ; even that of diet is, though
not all, yet a very considerable part of it ;
and that not only hath in it, that one exceed
not in the quantity or quality, but even re-
quires a regulating ourselves in the manner
of using our repast : as that we make not care-
ful and studious provision, do not take up
our thoughts how to please our palate ; so
even in the use of sober mean diet, we must
endeavour the mortifying of our flesh, not to
eat and drink merely to please ourselves, or
to satisfy our natural desire, but for God ;
even to propound this in our sitting down to
it, in obedience to him ; to use these helps
of life, and the life itself, to be spent in his
obedience, and endeavour of advancing his
glory.
It is a most shameful idol, a dunghill-
god indeed, to serve the belly, and to de-
light in feastings, or in our ordinary repast,
laying the reins loose on our appetite to take
its own career. And yet in this they most
commonly offend, even persons that are not
notably intemperate, neither gluttonous nor
drunken, and yet, I say, have not that holy,
retained, bridled way of using their repast,
witli an eye upon an higher end.
But this sobriety, in its ampls sense,
binds not only that sense of lust, but all the
rest, in the use of their several delights, yea,
and in the whole man ; all the affections of
the soul, in relation to this world, and the
things of it, to be in it as weaned from it,
and raised above it in the bent of our minds ;
to use it as if we used it not, I Cor. vii. 31.
This we speak and hear of, but do not
apply ourselves really to this rule. Each
hath some trifle or earthly vanity, one or
more, but especially some choice one, that
they cannot be taken off from, as children
readily have some toy that they set more by
than the rest. We have childish hearts
cleaving to vanity ; one hankering after some
preferment, another after some estate, lands,
or houses, or money, and we are drunk in the
pursuit of these ; so that when our hearts
should be fixed on divine exercises they
cannot stand, but reel to and fro, or stumble
down and fall asleep, roving after those
thoughts of that which we affect, staggering
ever and anon, or else so plunged in them
all the time, that we are as asleep in them.
Therefore these two are here, and ordina-
rily, joined, Be sober and watchful. Glut-
ting ourselves either with the delights, or
with the desires and cares of earth, makes
us sleepy ; the fumes that arise from them
surcharge us, and cast us into a deep sleep ;
a secure unminding of God, and of ourl
selves, the interest of our immortal souls.
The pleasures of sense are too gross for
the divine soul ; divine I call it, for so by
original it is ; but we abase it, and make it
flesh by those gross earthly tilings, and make
it unfit to rise heavenwards. As insobriety,
intemperance in diet, prejudices the very na-
tural spirits, makes them dull, clogs their
passage, and makes them move as a coach
in a miry way ; thus doth all inordinate use
and love of inferior things ; it makes the
soul of a low, heavy - constitution, that it
cannot move freely in any thing that is spi-
ritual. Yea, where there is some truth of
grace, yet it is obstructed and dulled by
taking in too much of the world, and feed-
ing on it, which is no more proper to the
finest part of the man, for the soul, than the
coarse ploughman's diet is for delicate tender
bodies of higher breeding ; yea, the dispro-
portion is far greater.
If there you would have free spirits for
spiritual things, keep them at a spare diet in
all things temporal. Let not out your hearts
to any thing here below. Learn to delight
in God, and seek to taste of his transcendent
sweetness, that will perfectly disrelish all
lower delights ; so your sobriety in abstain-
ing from them shall be still further recom-
pensed with more enjoyment of God ; and
you shall not lose pleasure by denying the
pleasures of earth, but shall change them for
those that are unspeakably better and purer
in their stead : he shall communicate him-
self unto you, the light of whose counte-
nance feeds and satisfies the glorified spirits
that are about his throne.
Be vigilant.] This watchfulness, joined
with sobriety, extends to all the estates and
ways of a Christian, being surrounded with
hazards and snares. He that despiseth his
way shall die, says Solomon, Prov. xix.
16; the most do thus walk at random, give
attendance on public worship, and have some
customary way of private prayer ; but fur-
ther do not regard how they walk, what is
their carriage all the day long, what they
speak, how they are in company, and how
alone, which way their hearts go early and
late, what it is that steals away most of their
affection from God.
Oh ! my beloved, did we know our con-
tinual danger, it would shake us out of this
miserable dead security that possesses us.
We think not on it, but there are snares laid
for us all the way, in each path we walk in,
and each step of it ; in our meat and drink ;
in our calling and labour ; in our house at
home ; in our journeying abroad ; yea, even
in God's house, and in our spiritual exer-
cises, both there and in private. Knew we, or,
at least, considered we this, we would choose
our steps more exactly, and look to our ways,
to our words, our thoughts, which truly,
whatsoever noise we make, we really do not.
Ponder the path of thy feel, says Solomon ;
and before that, Let thine eyes look right
VEK. 8, 9.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
297
OH, and let thine eye-lids look straight be-
fore ihee, I'rov. iv. 25, 26. And further,
lips put far from thee. But first of all, as
the main reason and spring of all, Keep thy
heart with all diligence, or above all keep-
ing, for out of it are the issues of life.
Because your adversary the devil.} An
alarm to watchfulness is here given, from
the watchfulness of our grand adversary.
There be other two usually ranked with him,
as the leading enemies of our souls, the world
and our own flesh ; but here he is expressly
named, who commands in chief, and orders
and manages the war, uses the service of the
other two against us, as prime officers, under
which most of the forces of particular tempta-
tions are ranked. Some others there be
which he immediately commands and leads
on himself, a regiment of his own, some spiri-
tual temptations.
And we have need to be put in mind of
the hostility and practices of Satan against
us ; for if the most were put to it, they would
be forced to confess that they very seldom
think on their spiritual danger from this
hand ; as we keep loose guard against the
allurements of the world, and of our own cor-
ruption, we watch not against the devices ol
Satan, but go on by guess, and suspect no-
thing, and so are easily a prey to all..
The least enemy, being despised and ne-
glected, as men observe, proves often too
great ; the smallest appearances of evil, the
least things that may prejudice our spiritual
good, while we make no reckoning of them,
may do us great mischief. Our not consi-
dering them makes them become considerable,
especially being under the command of a
vigilant and skilful leader, that knows how
to improve advantages : therefore, in things
which we many times account petty, and not
worthy our notice, as having any evil in them
we should learn to suspect the address of this
adversary, who usually hides himself, anc
couches under some covert, tillhe may appear ir
resistible, seize on us, and then indeed heroars
And this seeking the destruction of souls
is, you see, marked as all his work. Thi
prey he hunts is souls, that they may be ai
miserable as himself: therefore he is justly
called our adversary ; the enemy of holiness
and of our souls, tempting to sin, and then
accusing for sin, as his name here imports
appearing against us upon the advantages he
hath gained. He studies our nature, anc
fits his temptations to it : knows the pre
valency of lust, or earthliness, or that grea
and most general evil of pride, so like him-
self, and that is his ' throne in the heart.
Sometimes he boweth down, as it is said of
the lion, Psal. x. 9, 10. He waits his op-
portunity craftily, arid then assaults fiercely ;
and the children of God find sometimes so
much violence of his temptations, that they
urprise them ; and the most horrid thoughts
are cast in, as poisoned arrows, or fiery darts.
as the Apostle speaks, Eph. vi. 16. And
his his enmity, though it is against man in
eneral, yet is most enraged against the chil-
dren of God ; he goes about and spies where
we are weakest, and amongst them most
against those that are most advanced in holi-
ness, and nearest unto God.
They were once under his power, and now
jeing escaped from him, he pursues them,
as Pharaoh did the Israelites, with all his
forces, raging and roaring after them, as a
prey that was once in his den, and under his
paw, and now is rescued.
The resemblance hath in it, his strength,
his diligence, and his cruelty. His strength,
a lion ; his diligence, going about and seek-
ing ; his cruelty, roaring and seeking to
devour.
Inf. Is it not most reasonable hence to
press watchfulness ? and to keep continual
watch, to see what comes in, and what goes
out ; to try what is under every offer of the
world, every motion of our own natural hearts,
whether there be not some treachery, some
secret intelligence or not ? especially after a
time of some special seasons of grace, and
some special new supplies of grace received
in such seasons ; as after the holy sacrament,
then will he set on most eagerly, when he
knows of the richest booty. The pirates,
that let the ships pass as they go by empty,
watch them well when they return richly
laden : so doth this great pirate. Did he
not assault our Saviour straight after his
baptism ? « •z-nga'Zuv.
And, that we may tcalch, it concerns us
to be sober. The instruction is military,
and a drunk soldier is not fit to be on the
watch. This most of us are with our several
fancies and vanities, and so exposed to this
adversary ; yea, when we have gained some
advantage in a conflict, or when the enemy
seems to retire .and be gone, yet even then
are we to be watchful, yea, then especially.
How many, presuming on false safeties that
way, and sitting down to carouse, or lying
down to sleep, have been re-assaulted and
cut off '* Oh ! beware when you think your-
selves most safe ; that very thought makes
you least safe. Keep always your spirits free
of surcharges, and lavish profusion upon the
world, applying your hearts to any thing in
it, sitting down to it. Oh ! no. Be like
Gideon's army, Judges vii. 5, fit to follow
God, and be victorious in him, not lying
down to drink, but taking of it only, as for
necessity, in passing. Take our Saviour's
own word, Take heed lest at any time your
hearts be surcharged with surfeiting and
drunkenness, and the cares of this life,
Luke xxi. 34. Those will- overcharge you,
and make you drunk, and cast you asleep.
» Invadunt urbsm somno vinoque sepultam
298
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. v.
Oh ! mind your work and your warfare
always, more than your ease and pleasure.
Seek it not here, your rest is not here. Oh !
poor short rest if it were : but follow the
Lord Jesus through conflicts and sufferings,
a little while, and you shall have certain
victory, and after it everlasting triumph ;
rest and pleasure, and a feast that shall not
end, where there is neither danger of surfeit-
ing nor wearying, but pure and perpetual
delight. In this persuasion, you should be
abstinent and watchful, and endure hard-
ship, as good soldiers of Jesus Christ, as
the Apostle speaks, not entangling yourselves
with the affairs of this life, 2 Tim. xi. 4,
and thus be ready for encounters : stand
watching, and if you be assaulted, resist.
Whom resist stedfast in the faith. ] To
watchfulness, courage should be joined. He,
that watches and yields, seems rather to
watch to receive than to resist the enemy.
And this resistance should he continued
even against multiplied assaults ; for thou
hast to deal with an enemy that will not
easily give over, but will try several ways,
and will redouble his onsets ;* sometimes
very thick, to weary thee out, sometimes after
a little forbearance interposed, to catch thee
unawares, when he is not expected ; but in
all faint not, but be stedfast in thy resistance.
This is easily said, but how may it be ?
how shall I be able so to do ? Thus : '
Stedfast in the faith.] The most of
men are under the power of one of these two
evils, security or distrust, and out of the one
we readily fall into the other : therefore the
Apostle frames his exhortations, and the
arguments of it, in opposition to both these.
First, against security in the former verse,
Be sober and watch, and presses that by the
proper argument of great and continuing
danger. Here against distrust ; Whom re-
sist, stedfast in the faith ; and adds an
encouraging consideration of the common
condition of the children of God in the world.
Stedfast, or solid, by faith. This is
absolutely necessary for resistance ; a man
cannot fight upon a quagmire ; there is no
standing out without a standing, some firm
ground to tread upon ; and this, faith alone
furnishes. It lifts the soul up to the firm
advanced ground of the promises, and fastens
it there, and there it is sure, even as Mount
Zion, that cannot be removed. He says
not, stedfast by your own resolutions and
purposes, but stedfast by faith. The
power of God by faith becomes ours, for that
is contained and engaged in the Word oi
Promise ; faith lays hold there, and there
finds Almighty strength ; and this is our
victory, says the Apostle St. John, whereby
we overcome the world, even our faith 1
John v. 4 : so it our victory, whereby we
ivercome the prince of the world, whom re~
sist stedfast in the faith. And, univer-
sally, all difficulties, and all enemies, are
overcome by faith. Faith sets the stronger
Lion of the tribe ofJudah against this roar-
ng lion of the bottomless pit ; that deliver-
ng lion against this devouring lion.
When the soul is surrounded with enemies
on all hands, so that there is no way of escape,
aith flies above them, and carries up the soul
,o take refuge in Christ, where it is safe.
That is the power of faith : it sets a soul in
Christ, and there it looks down upon all
emptations, as at the bottom of the rock,
Breaking themselves into foam. When the
loods of temptations rise and gather, so great
and many, that the soul is even ready to be
wallowed up, then, by faith, it says, " Lord
Jesus, thou art my strength, I look to thee
for deliverance ; now appear for my help J"
And thus it overcomes the guilt of sin ; that
s answered by his blood, and the power of
sin is conquered by his Spirit : and afflictions
that arise are nothing to these. His love and
gracious presence makes them sweet and easy
We mistake if we think to do any thing,
or be any thing, without him ; and we mis-
take again, if we think any thing too hard
to be done or suffered with him : Without
me you can do nothing, says he, John xv. 5 :
And / am able to do all things, or can all
things, •^O.M-TO. laj^iiu, (so the Apostle's word
is), through Christ that strengthens me,
Phil. iv. 13. All things, Oh ! that is a big
word, yet it is a true word, and thus made
good through Christ empowering me ; that
frees it both from falsehood and vanity. An
humble confidence ; for it is not in himself,
but in Christ, ,and this boasting is good. My
soul shall make her boast in God, says
David, Psal. xxxiv. 2. Oh ! they have
only warrant to boast, and to triumph even
before the victory, that do it in this style ;
such may give a challenge to all the world,
and to all adverse powers of earth and hell,
as the Apostle doth in his own and every
believer's name, Rom. viii. 35, 38. Who
shall separate us from the love of Christ ?
&c. See the victory recorded in this same
way, Apocal. xii. 11, and they overcame
him. But how ? by the blood of the Lamb,
and the word of their testimony. That
blood, and the word of their testimony, believ-
ing that word concerning that blood : these
are the strength and victory of a Christian.
Inf. Although, then, thou seest thyself
the most witless and weak, and findest thy-
self nothing but a prey to the powers of dark-
ness ; yet know, that, by believing, the wis-
dom and strength of Christ is thine. Thou
art and oughtest to find thyself all weakness,
but he is all strength, Almightiness itself.
Learn to apply his victory, and so it is thine.
Be strong, how ? In him, and the power of
his might. But thou wilt say, I am often
VE3. 8, 9-1
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
299
foiled, yea, I cannot find that I prevail at all
against mine enemies, but they still against
me : yet rely on him, he can turn the chase
in an instant ; still cleave to him, when the
whole powers of thy soul arz, as it were,
scattered and routed. Rally them by believ-
ing. Draw thou but unto the standard oi
Jesus Christ, and the day shall be thine:
for victory follows that standard, and cannot
be severed from it. Yea, though thou find
the smart of divers strokes, yet think that
often a wounded soldier hath won the day ;
' believe, and it shall be so with thee.
And remember that thy foils, through the
wisdom and love of thy God, may be ordered
to advance thee victory : to put courage and
holy anger into thee against thine enemies ;
to humble thee, and drive thee from thine
own imagined strength, to make use of his
real strength. And be not hasty ; think not
at the very first to conquer : many a hard
conflict must thou resolve upon, and often be
brought very low, almost to a desperate point,
that to thy sense it is past recovery : then it
is his time to step in, even in the midst of their
prevailing. Let God but arise and his ene-
mies shall be scattered, Ps.il. Ixviii. 1. Thus
the Church hath found it in her greatest extre-
mities, and thus likewise the believing soul.
The Apostle adds in the dose of the verse,
Knowing that the same afflictions are ac-
complished in your brethren that are in the
world. There is one thing that much trou-
bles the patience, and weakens the faith of
some Christians : they are ready to think
there is none, yea, theri was never any be-
loved of God, in such a condition as theirs.
Thus sometimes they swell, even dieir out-
ward trials, in imagination, but oftener their
inward, which are most heavy and pressing
to themselves, and the parallel of them least
discernible by them in others. Therefore
the Apostle St. Paul breaks this conceit, 1
Cor. x. 13, Aro temptation hath taken you,
but such as is common to men : and here
is the same truth, The same afflictions are
accomplished in your brethren.
But alas ! we had rather hear of ease, and
cannot, after all that is said, bring our hearts
to comply with this, that temptations and
troubles are the saint' s-porti on here, and that
is the royal way to the kingdom. Our king
led in it, and all his followers go the same
way : and besides the happy end of it, is it
not sweet even for this simply, because he
went in it ? Yet this is the truth, and taken
altogether, is a most comfortable truth : the
whole brotherhood, all our brethren, go in
it, and our Eldest Brother went first.
VKR. 10. But the God of all grace, who hath called
us into his eternal joy by Christ Jesus, after that
ve have suffered a while, make you perfect, sta-
blish, strengthen, settle you.
His divine doctrine and exhortations die
Apostle closes with praver, as we follow this
rule in public after the word preached : so
St. Paul frequently did, and so Christ him.
self, John xvii. after that sermon in the pre .
ceding chapters. It were well if both minis,
ters and people would follow the same way
more in private, each for themselves, and each
for the other ; for the want of this is mainly
the thing that makes our preaching and hear-
ing so barren and fruitless. The ministers
of the gospel should indeed be as the angels
of God, going betwixt him and his people ;
not only bringing down useful instructions
from God to them, but putting up earnest
supplications to God for them. In the 10th
of St. Luke, the disciples are sent forth and
appointed fo preach; and in the llth we
have them desiring to be taught to pray ;
Lord, teach us to pray. And without this
there can be little answer or success in the
other : little springing up of this seed, though
ministers sow it plentifully in preaching, un-
less they secretly water it with their prayers
and tears.
And people, truly, should keep some cor-
respondence in this duty ; and that, if other
engagement will not persuade, even for their
own advantage, for it returns unto them with
abundant interest. If much of the Spirit be
poured forth on ministers, are they not the
more able to unfold the spiritual mysteries of
the gospel, and build up their people in the
knowledge of them ? Oh ! that both of us
were more abundant in this rich and sweet
exercise.
The prayer is addressed to the God of all
grace, who hath called us to eternal glory
by Christ Jesus ; wherein it suits the
apostle St. Paul's word in his direction to
the Philippians, chap. iv. 6, it is supplica-
tion with thanksgiving, prayer with praise.
In the prayer or petition, consider the matter
and the style. The matter or thing request-
ed is expressed in divers brief words, Make
you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you;
which, though they be much of the same
sense, yet are not superfluously multiplied :
for they both carry the great importance of
the thing, and the earnest desire in asking
it. And though it be a little light and un-
solid to frame a different sense to each of
them ; nor are any of the ways that such
kind of interpreters have taken in it very sa-
tisfactory to any discerning judgment ; yet
I conceive they are not altogether without
some profitable difference. As the first,
Perfect, implies, more clearly than the rest,
their advancement in victory over their re-
maining corruptions, and infirmities, and
their progress towards perfection. Stablish,
lath more express reference to both the in-
ward lightness and inconstancy that is na-
tural to us, the counter-blasts of persecutions
and temptations, and to outward oppositions ;
and imports the curing of the one, and sup-
port against the other. Strengthen the
300
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP.
growth of their graces, especially gaining o
further measures of those graces wherein
they are weakest and lowest. And settle
though it seems the same, and in substance
is the same with the other word stablish, ye'
it adds somewhat to it very considerable
for it signifies to found or fix upon a sure
foundation, and so indeed may have an as-
pect to Him who is (he foundation am
strength of believers, on whom they build
by faith, even Jesus Christ, in whom we
have all, both victory over sin, and increase
of grace, establishment of spirit, and power to
persevere against all difficulties and assaults :
He is that corner foundation-stone laid
in Zion, that they that build upon him may
not be ashamed, Isa. xxviii. 1C. That
rock that upholds the house founded on it
in the midst of all winds and storms, Matt.
vii. ult.
From hence we may observe, \st, That
these expressions have in them that which is
so earnestly and principally to be sought after
by every Christian, perseverance and pro-
gress in grace. These two are here inter-
woven : for there be two words importing the
one, and two the other, and they are inter-
changeably placed. This is often urged on
Christians as their duty, and accordingly
ought they to apply themselves to it, and
use their highest diligence in it : not to take
the beginning of Christianity for the end of
it ; ta think it enough, if they are entered
into the way of it, and sit down upon the
entry : but to walk on, to go from strength to
strength, Psal. Ixxxiv. 7j and even through
the greatest difficulties and discouragements,
to pass forward with unmoved stability and
fixedness of mind. They ought to be aim-
ing at perfection ; it is true, we shall still
fall exceedingly short of it : but the more
we study it, the nearer shall we come to it :
the higher we aim, the higher shall we shoot,
though we shoot not so high as we aim.
It is an excellent life, and is the proper
life of a Christian, to be daily outstripping
himself, to be spiritually wiser, holier, more
heavenly-minded to-day than yesterday,
and to-morrow (if it be added to his life)
than to-day.* Every day loving the world
less, and Christ more, than the former, and
gaining every day some further victory over
his secret corruptions, having his passions
more subdued and mortified, his desires, in
all temporal things, more cool and indiffe-
rent, and in spiritual things more ardent :
that miserable lightness of spirit cured, and
his heart rendered more solid and fixed upon
God, aspiring to more near communion
with him, labouring that particular graces
may be made more lively and strong, by
often exercising and stirring them up ; faith
more confirmed and stayed, love more in-
flimed, composed meekness producing more
* Suavissima vita est Indies sentirc si fieri nieliorem.
deep humility. Oh ! this were a worthy
ambition indeed ! you would have your es-
tates growing, and your credit growing ;
how much rather should you seek to have
your graces growing ; and not be content with
any thing you have attained to ? But,
2dly, All our endeavours and diligence in
this will be vain, unless we look for our
perfecting and establishing from that right
hand, without which we do nothing ; thi-
ther the Apostle moves his desires for his
brethren, and so teaches them the same ad-
dress for themselves, the God of all grace
make you perfect.
This prayer is grounded (as all prayer of
faith must be) on the promise and covenant
of God. He is our rock, and his work is
perfect, Deut. xxxii. 4. He doth not be-
gin a building, and then leave it off; none
of his designs break in the middle, or fall
short of their end. He will perfect that
good ivork which he hath begun, to the day
of Jesus Christ, Phil. i. 6. And, how
often is he called the strength of those that
trust on him, Psal. xviii. 30 ; their buck-
ler, and his way perfect.
Hence is the stability of grace, and per-
severance of the saints ; it is founded upon
his unchangeableness. Not that they are
so, though truly sanctified, if they and their
graces were left to their own management ;
no, it is he who not only gives that rich por-
tion to those he adopts to be his children,
tmt keeps it for them, and them in the pos^
session of it ; He maintains the lot of our
inheritance, Psal. xvi. 5. And t& build
that persuasion of perseverance upon his
truth and power engaged in it is no pre-
emption, yea, it is high dishonour to him
to question it.
But when nature is set to judge of grace,
t must speak according to itself; and,
therefore, very unsuitably to that which it
peaks of. Natural wits apprehend not the
spiritual tenor of the Covenant of Grace, but
model it to their own principles, and quite
disguise it ; and they think of nothing but
heir resolves and moral purposes : or they
ake up with a confused notion of grace ;
they imagine it put into their own hands, to
keep or lose it, and will not stoop to a con-
tinual dependence on the strength of an-
other ; rather choosing that game of hazard,
though it is certain loss and undoing, to do
for themselves.
But the humble believer is otherwise
taught; he hath not so learned Christ. He
sees himself beset with enemies without, and
buckled to a treacherous heart within, that
will betray him to them ; and he dare no
more trust himself, to himself, than to his
most professed enemies. Thus it ought to
be, and the more the heart is brought to this
humble petitioning for that ability, and '
strengthening, and perfecting, from God, the
TER. 10.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
.",01
more shall it find both stability and peace,
from the assurance of that stability.
And certainly, the more the Christian is
acquainted with himself, the more will he go
out of himself for his perfecting and esta-
blishing. He finds, that when he thinks to
go forward, he is driven backward, and sin
gets hold of him, oftentimes, when he
thought to have smitten it. He finds that
miserable inconstancy of his heart in spiri-
tual things, the vanishing of his purposes
and breaking off of his thoughts, that they
usually die ere they be brought forth : so
that when he hath thought, " I will pray
more reverently, and set myself to behold
God when I speak to him, and watch more
over my heart, that it fly not out and leave
me :" possibly the first time he sets to it,
thinking to be master of his intention, he
finds himself rrore scattered, and disordered,
and dead, than at any other time. "When
he hath conceived thoughts of humility and
self-abasement, and thinks, " Now I am
down, and laid low within myself, to rise
and look big no more ;" yet some vain fancy
creeps in anon, and encourages him,, and
raises him up to his old estate ; so that in
this plight, had he not higher strength to
look at, he would sit down and give over all,
a> utterly hopeless of ever attaining to his
journey's end.
But when he considers whose work that is
within him, even these small beginnings of
desires, he is encouraged by the greatness of
the- work, not to despiss and despair of the
small appearance of it in its beginning ; not
to despise the day of small things, Zech.
iv. 10 ; and knowing that it is not by any
power nor might, but by his Spirit, that it
shall be accomplished, he lays hold on that
word, Job viii. 7> Though thy beginning
be small, yet thy latter end shall greatly
increase.
The well instructed Christian looks to
Jesus, aftaatT-;, Heb. xii. 2, looks
from all oppositions and difficulties ; looks
above them to Jesus the Author and Fi-
nisher of our faith : Author and therefore
Finisher. Thus that royal dignity is inte-
rested in the maintenance and completing of
what he hath wrought ; notwithstanding all
thy imperfections, and the strength of sin,
he can and will subdue it ; though thy con-
dition should be so light and loose, that it
were easy for any wind of temptation to blow
thee away, yet he shall hold thee in his right
hand, and there thou shall be firm as the
earth, that is, so settled by his hand, that
though it hangs on nothing, yet nothing
can remove it. Though thou art weak, he i;
strong ; and it is he that strengthens thee,
and renews thy strength, Isa. xl. 28 ; when
it seems to be gone and quite spent, he
makes it fresh, and greater than ever before.
The word Jeheliphu, which we render re-
new, signifies change ; they shall have for
their own, his strength ; a weak believer,
and his strong Saviour, will be too hard for
all that can rise against them : it is here fit
hominem cum basi metiri, as in statues, to
measure the man with the basis on which ha
stands ; and there is no taking the right
measure of a Christian but that way.
Thou art now, indeed, exposed to great
storms and tempests, yet he builds thee on
himself, makes thee, by believing, to found
on him ; and so, though the winds blow and
the rainfall, yet thou standest, being built
on him thy rock, Matt. vii. 25. And this,
indeed, is our safety, the more we cleave to
our rock and fasten on him. This is the
only thing that establishes us, and perfects
and strengthens us ; therefore, well is that
word added ^s^sXi^a-?/, found you or settle
you, on your foundation. This is the firm-
ness of the Church against the gates of
hell ; he is a strong foundation for esta-
blishment, and a living foundation ; having
influence into the building for perfecting it ;
for it is a living house, and the foundation
is a root sending life to the stones, that they
grow tip, as this Apostle speaks, 1 Epist.
ii. 4, 5.
It is the want of this activity of faith on
Jesus, that keeps us so imperfect, and wrest-
ling still with our corruptions without any ad-
vancement. We wrestle in our own strength
too often, and so are justly, yea, necessarily,
foiled ; for it cannot be otherwise, till we
make him our strength. This we are still
forgetting, and we had need to be put in
mind of it, and frequently to recollect it.
We would be doing for ourselves, and insen-
sibly fall into this folly, even after much smart-
ing for it, if we be not watchful against it ;
there is this wretched natural independency
in us, that is so hard to beat out. All our
projectings are but castles in the air, ima-
ginary buildings without a foundation, till
once laid on Christ. But never shall we
find heart peace, sweet peace, and progress
in holiness, till we be driven from it, to
make him all our strength ; till we be
brought to do nothing, to attempt nothing,
to hope or expect nothing, but in him ; and
then shall we indeed find his fulness and
all-sufficiency, and be more than conque-
rors through him who hath loved us, Rom.
viii. 37.
But the God of all grace. ] By reason of
our many wants and great weakness, we had
need to have a very full hand and a very
strong hand to go to, for supplies and sup-
port. And such we have indeed ; our Fa-
ther is the God of all grace, a spring that
cannot be drawn dry, no, nor so much as any
whit diminished.
He is the God of all grace : The God of
imputed grace, of infused and increased
grace of furnished and assisting grace. The
302
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. v.
\rork of salvation is all grace from begin-
ning to end. Free grace in the plot of it,
laid in the counsel of God, and performed by
his own hand all of it. His Son sent in the
flesh, and his Spirit sent into the hearts of
his chosen, to apply Christ. All grace is
in him, the living spring of it, and flows
from him ; all the various actings, and all
the several degrees of grace ; he is the God
of pardoning grace, that blots out the
transgressions of his own children, for his
own name's sake, Isa. xliii. 25 ; that takes
up all quarrels, and makes one act of obli-
vion serve for all reckonings betwixt him
and them. And, as the God of pardoning
grace, so he is also the God of sanctifying
grace, who refines and purifies all those he
means to make up into vessels of glory, and
hath in his hand all the fit means and ways
of doing this ; purges them by afflictions
and outward trials, by the reproaches and
hatreds of the world. The profane world
little know how serviceable they are to the
increase of the graces and coraforts of a
Christian, when they indignify and perse-
cute him ; yea, little doth a Christian him-
self sometimes think how great his advan-
tage is by those things, till he find it, and
wonders at his Father's wisdom and love.
But most powerfully are the children of God
sanctified by the Spirit within them, with-
out which, indeed, no other thing could be
advantage to them in this. That divine fire
kindled within them is daily refining and
sublimating them ; that Spirit of Christ is
conquering sin, and by the mighty flame of
his love, consuming the earth and dross that
is in them ; making their affections more
spiritual and disengaged from all created
delights : and thus as they receive the be-
ginnings of grace freely, so all the advances
and increases of it. Life from their Lord
still flowing and causing them to grow, abat-
ing the power of sin, strengthening a faint-
ing faith, quickening a languishing love,
teaching the soul the ways of wounding
strong corruption's, and fortifying its weak
graces : yea, in wonderful ways advancing
the good of his children by things not only
harsh to them, as afflictions and tempta-
tions, but by that which is directly opposite
in its nature, sin itself, raising them by their
falls, and strengthening them by their very
troubles ; working them up to humility and
vigilance, and sending them to Christ for
strength by the experience of their weak-
nesses and failings.
And as he is the God of pardoning grace,
and sanctifying grace in the beginning and
growth of it, so also the God of supporting
grace ; that supervenient influence, without
which the graces placed within us would lie
dead, and fail us in the time of greatest need.
This is the immediate assisting power that
bears up the soul under the hardest services,
and backs it in the sharpest conflicts, com.
municating fresh auxiliary strength, when
we, and all the grace we have within, dwell-
ing in us, is surcharged. Then he steps in,
and opposes his strength to a prevailing and
confident enemy, that is at the point of in-
sulting and triumph. When temptations
have n.ride a breach, and enter with full
force and violence, he lets in so much pre-
sent help on a sudden, as makes them give
back, and beats them out. When the enermi
comes in as a flood, il:e Spirit of the Lord
lifts up a standard agalr-st him, Isa. lix.
11 ; and no siege can be so close as to keep
out this aid, for it comes from above.
And by this a Christian learns, that his
strength is in God ; whereas, if his received
grace were always party enough, and able
to make itself good against all incursions,
though we know we have received it, yet
being within us, we should possibly some-
times forget the receipt of it, and look on it
more as ours than his ; more as being with-
in us than as flowing from him. But when
all the forces we have, the standing garrison,
is by far overmatched, and yet we find the
assailants beaten back ; then we must ac-
knowledge him that sends such seasonable
relief to be, as the Psalmist speaks, a very
present help in trouble, Psal. xlvi. 1.
All St. Paul's constant strength of grace,
inherent in him, could not fence him so wel1
as to ward off the piercing point of that sharp
temptation, whatsoever it was, which he re-
cords, 2 Cor. xii. 7- The redoubled buf.
fetings that he felt came so thick upon him,
that he was driven to his knees by it, to cry
for help to be sent down, without which he
found he could not hold out, and he had an
answer assuring him of help ; a secret sup-
port, that should maintain him, My grace
is sufficient for thee, ver. 8, though thine
own be not ; that is, that which I have al-
ready given thee : yet mine is, that is, that
grace which is in me, and which I will put
forth for thy assistance.
And this is our great advantage and com-
fort, that we have a Protector who is Al-
mighty, and is always at hand : who can and
will hear us whensoever we are beset and
straitened. That captain had reason, who,
being required to keep Milan for the king of
France, went up to the highest turret, and
cried three times, King of Franco, and re-
fused the service, because the king heard
him not, nor nobody answered for him ; mean-
ing the great distance, and so the difficulty
of sending aid, when need should require.
But we may be confident of our supplies in
the most sudden surprises. Our King can
and will hear us when we call, and will send
relief in due season. We may be in appar-
ent hazards, but we shall not be wholly van-
quished ; it is but crying to him in our great-
est straits, and help appears. Possibly we
VEIl. 10.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
303
tee the host of the enemies first, and that
so great, that there is no likelihood of es-
caping ; but then praying, we espy the fiery
chariots and horsemen, and may say, There
are more with us than with them, 2 Kings
vi. 16.
The Apostle St. Paul calls our God, the
God of all Consolation, Rom. xv. 5, as here
ne is styled the God of all Grace : And
this is our rejoicing, that in his hand is all
good ; our sanctification and consolation, as-
sistance and assurance, grace and 'glory.
And this style suits most fitly with the pre-
sent petition, that for our perfecting and
ttablishing, and strength ning in grace, we
have recourse to the God of all Grace, whose
fonner gifts do not discourage us from seek-
ing more, but imL-ecl both encourage us, and
engage him for the nerfecting of it. It is
his will that we have c mstant recourse to him
for all we want. He is so rich, and withal
and draw much from him ; and it is by
believing and praying that we do draw
from him. Were these plied, we would
so liberal, that he delights that we seek
soon glow richer ; but remember, all this
grace, that we would receive from the God of
all Giace, must be from God in Christ.
There it flows for us, thither we are directed.
// teas the Father's good pleasure, that in
him should all fulness dwell, Col. i. 19, and
that for us, that we might know whither to
go, and where to apply for it.
Now for the future opening up of his riches,
expressed in this title, the God of all grace,
is added one great act of grace, which doth
indeed include all the rest ; for we have in it
the beginning and end of the work linked to-
gether. The first effect of grace upon us, in
effectual calling, and the last accomplish-
ment of it, in eternal glory. Who hath call-
ed us to his eternal glory.
For that calling, I conceive, doth not
simply mean the design of the Gospel in its
general publication, wherein the outward caU
lies, that it holds forth and sets before us
eternal glory as the result of grace. But the
calling, here spoken of, is the real bringing
of a Christian to, and uniting him with,
Christ, and so giving him a real and firm
title to glory. Such a call is here intended,
as powerfully works grace in the soul, and
secures glory to the soul ; gives it right to
that inheritance, and fits it for it ; and some-
times gives it even the evident and sweet as-
surance of it. This assurance, indeed, all
the heirs of glory have not ordinarily within
them, and scarce any at all times equally
clear. Some travel on in a covert cloudy
day, and get home by it : having so much
light as to know their way, and yet do not
at all clearly see the bright and full sunshim
of assurance ; others have it breaking fort!
at some times, and anon under a cloud, am
•ome more constantly. But as all meet in
he end, so all agree in this In the t>egiuning,
h.H is, the reality of the thing ; they are
made unalterably sure heirs of it, in their
effectual calling.
And by this the Apostle advances his pe-
ition for their support, and establishment,
and advancement, in the way of grace. The
way of our calling to so high and happy an
estate, did we apply our thoughts more to it,
would work on us, and persuade us to a more
suitable temper of mind, and course of life ;
would give us more noble sublime thoughts
and ways above the world : and the strong,
er were our persuasion of it, the more strong-
ly should we be thus persuaded by it. And
as it would thus prevail with us, so might
we use it to prevail with God for all needful
grace.
All you that hear the gospel are in the
general called to this glory. It is told you
where and how you may lay hold on it. You
are told, that if you will let go your sins and
embrace Jesus Christ, this glory shall be
yours. It is his purchase, and the right of
it lies in him, and not elsewhere ; and right
to him is the receiving him for a Saviour, and
at the same time for Lord and King ; to be-
come his subjects, and so be made kings.
This is our message to you, but you will not
receive it. You give it a hearing, it may
be, but do not indeed hearken to the mo-
tion : and this must, of necessity, proceed
from unbelief. Were you indeed persuaded,
that in coming unto Christ, you were pre-
sently not only set free from a sentence of
death, which is still standing over your head
while you are out of him, but withal entitled
to a crown, made heirs of a kingdom, an
eternal kingdom ; I say, if this were believed,
were it possible to slight him as the most do,
and turn back the bargain, and bestow their
money elsewhere upon trifles of no value,
children's commodities, rattles and painted
toys ? Such are your greatest projects, were
it even for earthly kingdoms, in respect of
Christ, and this glory provided in him. What
a wonder is it, that where this happiness is
daily proclaimed, and you are not only in-
formed of it, but entreated to receive it, where
it is not only offered you, but pressed and
urged upon you, and you say, you believe the
matter ; yet still the false glory and other
vanities of this world amuse and entangle you,
that you close not with this rich offer of eter-
nal glory I
But where any do close with it, it is in-
deed by a call that goes deeper than the ear ;
a word spoken home to within, a touch of
the Spirit of God upon the heart, which hath
a magnetic virtue to draw it, so that it cannot
choose but follow : and yet chooses it most
freely and sweetly ; doth most gladly open to
let in Jesus Christ, and his sweet govern-
ment upon his own terms, takes him and all
jthe reproaches and troubles that can come
304
A COMMENTARY UPON
with him. And well it may, seeing beyond
a little passing trouble, abiding eternal glory.
The state to which a Christian is called is
not a poor and sad estate, as the world
judges ; it is to no less than eternal glory.
The world think strange to see the believer
abridge himself in the delights of sin, their
common pursuits and eager graspings after
gains or honours, or pleasures of sense ; but
they know not the infinite gain that he hath
made, in that he hath exchanged this dross
for down-weight of pure gold. The world
sees what the Christian leaves, but they see
[CHAP. v.
a pageant, •rxa'yn, which goes through the
street, and is seen no more. But this hath
length of days with it, eternal glory. Oh !
a thought of that swallows up all the gran-
deur of the world, and the noise of reckoning
years and ages. Had one man continued
from the creation to the end of the world, in
the top of earthly dignity and glory, admired
by all ; yet, at the end, everlasting oblivion
being the close, what nothing were it to eter-
nal glory ? But alas ! we cannot be brought
to believe, and deeply take the impression of
eternity ; and that is our undoing.
not what he comes to; what his new pur- 1 By Jesus Christ.] Your portion out of
chase is, in another place : they see what he | him was eternal shame and misery : but by
suffers, but not what he expects, and shall at-
tain as the end of these sufferings, which
shall shortly end. But he knowing well
upon what conditions all these things run,
may well say, " How small is what I for-
sake, how great that which I follow after."*
It is glory, eternal glory, his eternal glory.
Glory, true real glory. All, that is here so
named, is no more but a name, a shadow of
glory, cannot endure the balance, but is
found too light : as was said of a great mo-
narch, Dan. v. and so many principalities
and provinces put into the scale one after an-
other, still added no weight ; yea, possibly,
as a late politic writer wittily observes of a
certain monarch, " The more kingdoms you
cast in, the scale is still the lighter." Men
are naturally desirous of glory, and gape
after it ; but they are naturally ignorant of
the true nature and place of it ; they seek it
where it is not, and, as Solomon says of riches,
set 'heir hearts on that which is not, Prov.
xxiii. 5, hath no subsistence nor reality.
But the glory above is true real glory, and
bears weight ; and so bears aright the name
of glory, which in the Hebrew, Kebud, sig-
nifies weight ; and the Apostle's expression
seems to allude to that sense ; speaking of
this same glory to come, he calls it a far
more excellent weight of glory, 2 Cor. iv.
1 7- It weighs down all labour and suffer-
ings in the way, so far that they are not once
worth the speaking of in respect of it. It is
the hyperbole, xa.ff v
iitrsa[ia\riy,
other glory is overspoke, but this glor/, over-
glorious to be duly spoke, it exceeds and rises
above all that can be spoke of it.
Eternal.] Oh ! that adds much ! Men
pursue the glory of the present world, such
as it is, if it were lasting, if it stayed with
them when they have caught it, and they
stayed with it to enjoy it. But how soon do
they part! they pass away, and the glory
passes away, both as smoke, as a vapour. Our
life, and all the pomp and magnificence of
those that have the greatest outward glory,
and make the fairest shew, it is but a shew,
• Nan magru relinquo, magna sequor.
him, it is even all glory. And this hath
likewise an evidence of the greatness of this
glory ; it can be no small estate, which the
blood of the Son of God was let out to pur-
chase.
His glory.] It is that which he gives, and
gives as his choice of all, to his chosen, his
children : and if there be any thing here that
hath delight or worth in the things which he
gives in common even to his enemies ; if
there be such a world and variety of good
things for them that hate him, oh ! how ex.
cellent must those things be he hath reserv-
ed for his friends, for those he loves, and
causes to love him !
As it is his gift, it is indeed himself; the
beholding and enjoying of himself. This
we cannot now conceive. But oh ! that
blessed day, when the soul shall be full of
God, shall be satisfied and ravished with fi:U
vision ! should we not admire that such a
condition is provided for man, wretched sin.
ful man : Lord, what is man, that thou art
mindful of him, or the son of man, that thou
visitest him ? Psal. viii. 3. " And it is
provided for me, as wretched as any that are
left, and fallen short of this glory ! a base
worm taken out of the mire, and washed in
the blood of Christ, and within a while set to
shine in glory without sin !" Oh ! the won-
der of this ! how should it excite us to praise,
when we think of such an one there, who
will bring us up in the way to his crown :
how will this hope sweeten the short suffer-
ings of this life ! and death itself, which is
otherwise the bitterest in itself, is most of all
sweetened by this, as being nearest it, and
setting us into it. What though thou art
poor, diseased, and despised here ? Oh !
consider what is there, how worthy the affec-
tion, worthy the earnest eye and fixed look
of an heir of this glory ! What can he either
desire or fear, whose heart is thus deeply
fixed ? Who would refuse this other clause,
to suffer a while, a little while, any thing
outward or inward he thinks fit ? how soon
shall all this be overpast, and then overpaid
in the very entry, at the beginning of this
glory that shall never end !
11.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
305
VER. it. To him be glory and dominion for ever
anil ever- Amen.
THEY know little of their own wants and
emptiness, that are not much in prayer ; and
they know little of the greatness and good-
ness of God, that are not much in praises.
The humble Christian hath a heart in some
measure framed to both. He hath within
him the best schoolmaster, that teaches him
how to pray, and how to praise, and makes
him delight in the exercise of them both.
The Apostle having added prayer to his
doctrine, adds here, you see, praise to his
prayer. To him be glory and dominion for
€ver.
The living praises of God spring from
much holy affection, and that affection springs
from a divine light in the understanding.
So says the Psalmist, Sing ye praises with
understanding, or you that have under stand-
ing, Psal. xlvii. 7-
It is a spiritual knowledge of God that sets
the soul in tune for his praises ; and there-
fore the most can bear no part in this song :
they mistune it quite, through their ignorance
of God, and unacquaintance with him.
Praise is unseemly in the mouth of fools ;
they spoil and mistune it.
Obs. 1. The thing described. 2. The
term or endurance of it. 1. The former is
expressed in two words, glory and power.
Glory, when ascribed to God, imports the
shining forth of his dignity, the knowledge
and acknowledgment of it by his creatures ;
that his excellency may be confessed and
praised, his name exalted, that service and
homage may be done to him ; which all
adds nothing to him ; for how can that be ?
But as it is the duty of such creatures as he
hath fitted for it, to render praises to him, so
it is their happiness. All the creatures, in-
deed, declare and speak his glory ; the hea-
vens sound it forth, and the earth and sea
resound and echo it back. But his reason-
able creatures hath he peculiarly framed,
both to take notice of glory in all the rest,
and to return it from and for all the rest, in
a more express and lively way.
And in this lower world, it is man alone
that is made capable of observing the glory
of God, and offering him praises. He ex-
presses it well, that calls man the world's
high priest ; all the creatures bring their
oblations of praise to him, to offer up for
them and for himself, for whose use and
comfort they are made. The light and mo-
tion of the heavens, and all the variety of
creatures below them, speak this to man :
" He that made us and you, and made us
for you, is great and wise, and worthy to be
praised ; and you are better able to say this
than we ; therefore praise him on our behalf
and your own. Oh ! he is great and mighty,
he is the Lord our Maker."
Power is also ascribed to God, which here
U
expresses not only ability, but authority and
royal sovereignty; that as he can do all
things, he rules and governs all things, is
King of all the world, Lord Paramount ; so
that all hold their crowns of him, and the
shields of the earth belong unto God, he is
greatly to be exalted, Psal. xlvii. 9 ; dispos-
eth of states and kingdoms at his pleasure,
establisheth or changeth, turns and overturns,
as seems him good, and hath not only might,
but right to do so. He is the Most High,
ruling in the kingdoms of the children of
men, and giving them to whomsoever he
Will, Dan. iv. 32, and seldom fails to pour
contempt upon princes when they contemn
his power.
2. The term, or endurance of this glory,
is also worthy of our remark, for ever.
Even in the short life of man, men that are
raised very high in place and popular esteem,
may, and often do outlive their own glory ;
but the glory of God lasteth as long as him-
self, for he is unchangeable, his throne is
for ever, and his wrath for ever, and his
mercy for ever ; and therefore his glory for
ever.
Reflection I. Is it not to be lamented,
that he is is so little glorified and praised ?
that the earth, being so full of his goodness,
is so empty of his praise from them that en-
joy and live upon it.
How far are the greatest part from making
this their great work, to exalt God, and as-
cribe power and glory to his name ? so far,
that all their ways are his dishonour ; they
seek to advance and raise themselves, to
serve their own lusts and pleasures, while
they are altogether mindless of his glory !
yea, the Apostle's complaint holds good
against us all, we are seeking our own things,
and none the things of the Lord Jesu*
Christ, Phil. ii. 21. It is true, some there
are, but as his meaning is, they are so few,
that they are, as it were, drowned and smo-
thered in the crowd of self-seekers, so that
they appear not. After all the judgments of
God upon us, how doth still luxury and ex-
cess, uncleanness, and all kind of profane-
ness, outdare the very light of the gospel,
and the rule of holiness shining in it ! scarce
any thing is a matter of common shame and
scorn, but the power of godliness ; turning
indeed our true glory into shame, and glory-
ing in that which is indeed our shame : yet
holiness is not only our truest glory, but
that wherein the ever-glorious God doth es-
pecially glory, and hath made known him-
self particularly by that name, The holy
God. And the express style of his glorious
praises uttered by seraphims, Isa. vi. 3, is,
Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of Hosts, the
whole earth is full of his glory.
Instead of sanctifying and glorifying his
holy name, how doth the language of hell,
oaths and curses, abound in our streets and
306
A COMMENTARY UPON
[CHAP. v.
houses ! How 5s that blessed name, that
angels are blessing and praising, abused by
base worms ! Again, notwithstanding all
the mercies multiplied upon us in this land,
where are our praises, our songs of deliver-
ance, our ascribing glory and power to our
God, who hath prevented us with loving kind-
ness, and tender mercies ; hath removed the
strokes of his hand, and made cities and vil-
lages populous again, that were left desolate
without inhabitants ?
Oh ! why do we not stir up our hearts,
and one another, to extol the name of our
God, and say, Give unto the Lord glory
and strength ; give unto the Lord the glory
due unto his name, Ps. xxix. 1, 2. Have
we not seen the pride and glory of all flesh
stained and abased ! Were there ever affairs
and times that more discovered the folly and
weakness of men, and the wisdom and power
of God ! Oh ! that our hearts were set to
magnify him, according to that word, so often
repeated in Psalm cvii, Oh ! that men would
praise the Lord for his goodness, and his
wonderful works to the children of men.
Reflection II. But what wonder is it that
the Lord loses the revenue of his praises at
the hands of the common ungodly world,
when even his own people fall so far behind
in it, as usually they do ! The dead cannot
praise him, Psal. cxv. 17. But that they,
whom he hath quickened by his Spirit,
should yet be so surprised with deadness and
dulness as to this exercise of exalting God ;
this is very strange. For help of this, take
»he three following directions.
Direct. I. We should seek after a fit tern-
per, and labour to have our hearts brought
to a due disposition for his praises. And
in this view, 1. See that they be spiritual.
All spiritual services require that, but this
most, as being indeed the most spiritual of
all. Affections to the things of this earth
draw down the soul, and make it so low set,
that it cannot rise to the height of a song of
praise : and thus, if we observed ourselves,
we should find, that when we let our hearts
fall, and entangle themselves in any inferior
desires and delights, as they are unfitted ge-
nerally for holy things, so, especially, for the
praises of our holy God. Creature-loves
abase the soul, and turn it to earth, and
praise is altogether heavenly. 2. Seek a
heart purified from self-love, and possessed
with the love of God. The heart, which is
ruled by its own interest, is scarce ever con.
tent, still subject to new disquiet. Self is a
vexing thing, for all things do not readily
suit our humours and wills : and the least
touch that is wrong to a selfish mind dis-
tempers it, and disrelishes all the good things
about it. A childish condition it is, if cross-
ed but in a toy, to throw away all. Whence
are our frequent frettings and grumblings,
&nd why is it that we can drown a hundred
high favours in one little displeasure ; so
that still our finger is upon that string ; and
there is more malcontent and repining for
one little cross, than praises for all the mer-
cies we have received ? Is not this evident-
ly the self-love that abounds in us ? Where-
as, were the love of God predominant in us,
we should love his doings and disposals, and
bless his name in all ; whatsoever were his
will, would, in that view, be amiable and
sweet to us, however in itself harsh and un-
pleasant. Thus would we say in all, " This
is the will and the hand of my Father, who
doth all wisely and well ; blessed be his
name."
The soul thus framed would praise in the
deeps of troubles ; not only in outward
afflictions, but in the saddest inward condi-
tion, would be still extolling God, and say-
ing, " However he deal with me, he is worthy
to be loved and praised. He is great and
holy, he is good and gracious ; and whatso-
ever be his way and thoughts towards me, I
wish him glory. If he will be pleased to
give me light and refreshment, blessed be
he ; and if he will have me to be in darkness
again, blessed be he, glory to his name ! yea,
what though he should utterly reject me, is
he not for that to be accounted infinitely
merciful in the saving of others ? must he
cease to be praiseworthy for my sake ? If he
condemn, yet he is to be praised, being merci-
ful to so many others ; yea, even in so deal-
ing with me, he is to be praised, for in that
he is just."
Thus would pure love reason for him, and
render praise to him ; but our ordinary way
is most untoward and unbeseeming his crea-
tures, the best of them, much more such
worms as we are ; that things must rather
be to our mind than his ; and we must either
have all our will, or else, for our part, he
shall have none of his praises.
3. Labour for that which, on these two,
will follow, a fixed heart. If it be refined
from creature-love and self-love, spirituality
and love of God will fix it, and then shall
it be fit to praise, which an unstable, un-
composed heart can never be, any more than
an instrument can be harmonious and fit to
play on, that hath loose pins, still slipping
and letting down the strings, pins that never
fasten. And thus are the most ; they can-
not fix to divine thoughts, to consider God,
to behold and admire his excellency and
goodness, and his free love. Oh ! that
happy word of David, worthy to be twice
repeated, when shall we say it ? O God,
my heart is fixed ; well might he add, /
will sing and give praise, Psal. Ivii. 7-
Oh ! that we would pray much, that he
would fix our hearts ; and then he having
fixed them, we would praise him much.
Direct. II. If any due disposition be
once attained for praises, then must the
VER. 12—14.]
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
307
heart, so disposed, be set to study the mat-
ter of praises.
And that, 1. The infinite excellency of
God in himself; which though we know
little of, yet this we know, and should con-
»ider it, that it is far beyond what all the
creatures and all his works are able to tes-
tify of him ; that he transcends all we can
speak, or hear, or know of him. 2. Look
on him in his works. Can we behold the
vast heavens above, or the firm earth be-
neath us, or all the variety of his works in
both, without holy wonder stirred in us, and
that stirring us up to sing praises ? Oh !
his greatness, and might, and wisdom shin-
ing in these ! Lord, how manifold are thy
trorks, in wisdom hast thou made them all,
Fsal. civ. 24. But above all, that work,
that marvel of his works, the sending of his
Son forth of his bosom. This is the mys-
tery which the Apostles do so much magnify
in their writings, this is the chief incentive
whereby our Apostle was induced to close
this epistle with praise, ascribing glory to
him. This praise looks particularly back to
the style in the prayer, The God of all
grace, who hath called us to his eternal
glory by Jesus Christ- So many other
mercies are not to be forgotten, but chiefly
is he to be praised for that choice of mercies,
to his glory, who hath called us to his
glory. Then look through the work of sav-
ing his chosen, so redeemed by the blood of
his Son, his maintaining his own work in
them, against all surrounding enemies and
oppositions ; the advancing it in the midst
of them, and even by those oppositions, and
bringing them safe to glory ; that perfect-
ing and establishment, as in the foregoing
words ; it is that which so affects the Apostle
in the very entry of this epistle, that there
he must break forth into praise, chap. i. ver.
3, Blessed be the God and Father of our
Lord Jesus Christ, who, according to his
abundant mercy, hath begotten us again
unto a lively hope, by the resurrection of
Jesus Christ from the dead. He begins
there in praise, and here ends in it, and so
incloses all within that divine circle. And
as we should consider these things in gene-
ral, so should, we also reflect on his parti-
cular dealing with us his good providence
in spirituals and temporals. Would we
search, oh ! what a surcharge of innume-
rable mercies should each of us find 5 and
were we better acquainted with the holy
Scriptures, had we more our delight in them,
they would acquaint us better with all these
tilings, and give us light to see them, and
warm our hearts, and excite them to His
j raises, who is the God of all our mercies.
Direct. III. The heart being somewhat
disposed to praise, and then studying the
matter of it, should be applied actually to
render praise ; and in order to this we must
be careful, 1. To aim at Gtd'iu all, which
is continued praise, to eye his glory in every
thing, and chiefly to desire that as the great
end of all, that his name may be exalted.
This is the excellent way indeed ; wheieas
most are either wholly for their self-ends, or
often squinting out to them. That soul it
most noble that singly and fixedly aims at
exalting God, and seeks this stamp on all it
speaks, and does, and desires ; all to the
greater glory of my God. 2. To abound in
the express and solemn return of praise this
way, To him be fflory, not a customary dead
saying of it over, as is usual with us, but
the heart offering it up. What is so pure
and high as this exercise, the praises of the
ever-glorious Deity ? What is heaven but
these ? and were it not best, as we can, to
begin it here, and long to be there, where
it shall never end ? To him be glory and
dominion for ever and ever. Amen.
VKR. 12. By Sylvanus, a faithful brother unto you,
(as I suppose,) 1 have written briefly, exhorting,
and testifying that this is the true grace of Goc
\vherein_ye stand.
VKR. 13. The Church that is at Babylon, elected
together with you, saluteth you; and so doth
Marcus my son.
VER. 14. Greet ye one another with a kiss of cha-
rity. 1'eace be with you all that are in Christ
Jesus. Amen.
THIS is a kind of postscript, and con-
tains its testimony of the bearer, and the
Apostolic form of saluting. Withal, he ex-
presses the measure of his writing, that i/
was brief, and the end of it, that it was to
testify the (rue grace of God. And this is,
indeed, the end of our preaching; and we
ought each to seek it by the word, and by
mutual exhortations ; and sometimes a few
words may avail much to this purpose, to
our hearty establishment in the faith ; and
not only are we to believe, but to remember
that we have the best of it ; that there ifi
truth in our hopes, and they shall not de-
ceive us. They are no fancy, as the world
thinks, but the true grace of God; yea,
when all things else shall vanish, their truth
shall most appear in their full accomplish-
ment.
The entertainment and increase of Chris-
tian love, of due esteem of one another, and
affection one to another, is no matter of
empty compliment, but is the very stamp
and badge of Jesus Christ upon his follow-
ers : it is, therefore, most carefully to be
preserved entire, and unhappy are they that
do by any means willingly break it. Oh !
let us beware of doing so, and follow peace,
even when it seems to fly from us.
This peace, that is the portion of those
in Christ, is indeed within them, and with
God ; but through Him it is likewise one
with another, and in that notion to be de-
sired and wished jointly with the other.
They that are in Christ are the only chil-
dren and heirs of true peace. Others may
308
A COMMENTARY, &c.
[CHAP, v
dream of it, and have a false peace for a
time, and wicked men may wish it to them-
selves and one another ; but it is a most vain
and insignificant hope : but to wish it to
them that are in Christ, hath good ground ;
for all solid peace is founded in him, and
flows from him. Now the peace of God,
which passeth all understanding, keep
your hearts and minds through Jesus
Christ, Amen.
END OF THE COMMENTARY ON FIRST PETER.
EXPOSITORY
LECTURES
ON
PSALM XXXIX.; ON ISAIAH VI.; AND ON ROMANS XII.
EXPOSITORY LECTURES
PSALM XXXIX.
LECTURE I.
VER. 1. I said, I will take heed to my ways, that I
sin not with my tongue: I will keep my mouth
with .1 bridle, while the wicked is before me.
CEHTAINXY it is a high dignity that is
conferred upon man, that he may, as freely
and frequently as he will, converse with Him
that made him, the great King of Heaven
and Earth. It is indeed a wonder that God
should honour poor creatures so much ; but
it is indeed no less strange that men having
so groat privileges, the most part of them do
use them so little. Seldom do we come to
him in times of ease. And when we are
spurred to it by afflictions and pains, com-
monly we try all other means rather than
this, that is the alone true and unfailing
comfort. But such as have this way of lay-
•ng their pained head and heart in his bo-
som, they are truly happy, though in the
world's language they be never so miserable.
This is the resource of this holy man in
the time of his affliction, whatever it was,
prayer and tears, bemoaning himself before
his God and Father, and that the more fer-
vently, in that he finds his speaking to men
so unprofitable ; and therefore he refrains
from it.
The Psalm consists of two parts ; his
silence to men, and his speech to God ; and
boih of them are set with such sweet notes
of music, though they be sad, that they
deserve well to be committed to the
Musician.
I said, I will take heed to my ways. ] It
was to himself that he said it ; and it is im-
possible for any other to prove a good or a
wise man, without much of this kind
speech to himself. It is one of the most ex-
cellent and distinguishing faculties of a rea-
sonable creature, much beyond vocal speech,
for in that some birds may imitate us ; but
neither bird nor beast have any thing of this
kind of language, of reflecting 01 discoursing
with itself. It is a wonderful brutality in
the greatest part of men, who are so little con.
versant in this kind of speech, being framed
and disposed for it, and which is not onlj
of itself excellent, but of continual use and
advantage ; but it is a common evil among
men, to go abroad, and out of themselves,
which is a madness and tnie distraction.
It is true a man hath need of a well set mind,
when he speaks to himself ; for otherwise he
may be worse company to himself than if he
were with others; but he ought to endea-
vour to have a better with him, to call in
God to his heart to dwell with him. If thus
we did, we should find how sweet this were
to speak to ourselves, by now and then inter-
mixing our speech with discourses unto God.
For want of this, the most part not only lose
their time in vanity, and their converse
abroad with others, but do carry in heaps of
that vanity to the stock which is in their own
hearts, and do converse with that in secret,
which is the greatest and the deepest folly in
the world.
Other solitary employments, as reading
the disputes and controversies that are among
men, are things not unuseful, yet all turns
to waste, if we read not our own heart, and
study that : this is the study of every holy
man, and between this and the consideration
Chief of God, he spends his hours and endeavours.
Some have recommended the reading of men
more than books : but what is in the one,
or both of them, or all the world beside,
without this ? a man shall find himself out
of| of his proper business, if he acquaint not
himself with this, to speak much with God
and with himself, concerning the ordering of
his own ways.
It is true, it is necessary for some men, in
some particular charges and stations, to re-
312
EXPOSITORY LECTURES
[LECT. i.
gard die ways of others ; and besides, some-
thing also there may be of a wise observing
others, to improve the good and evil we see
in them, to our own advantage, and better-
ing our own ways, looking on them to make
the repercussion the stronger on ourselves :
but except it be out of charity and wisdom,
it flows either from uncharitable malice or
else a curious and vain spirit, to look much
and narrowly into the ways of others, and to
know the manner of living of persons about
us, and so to know every thing but ourselves ;
like travellers that are well seen in foreign
and remote parts, but strangers in the affairs
of their own country at home. The check
that Christ gave to Peter is due to such,
What is that to thee 9 follow thou me,
John xxi. 22, " Look thou to thine own
feet, that they be set in the right way." It
is a strange thing that men should lay out
their diligence abroad to their loss, when
their pains might be bestowed to their advan-
tage nearer at hand, at home within them-
selves.
This, that the Psalmist speaks here of,
taking heed to his ways, as it imports his
present diligence, so also it hath in it a re-
flection on his ways past, and these two do
mutually assist one another ; for he shall
never regulate his own ways before him,
that has not wisely considered his ways past ;
for there is wisdom gathered from the obser-
vation of what is gone to the choosing where
to walk in time to come, to see where he is
weakest, and lies exposed to the greatest
hazard, and there to guard. Thus David
expresses it in another Psalm, / thought on
my ways, and turned my feet unto thy tes-
timonies, Psal. cxix. 59. And this would
not be done only in the great change of one's
first conversion from sin, but this double ob-
servance still continued every day, looking
to his rule, and laying that rule to his way,
and observing where the balk and nonconfor-
mity to the rule is, and renewing his repen-
tance for that, and amending it the next
day, that still the present day may be the
better for yesterday's error.
And surely there is much need of this, if
we consider how we are encompassed about
with hazards and snares, and a variety of temp-
tations, and how little we have, either of
strength to overcome, or wisdom to avoid
them, especially they being secretly set and
unseen (which makes them the more dan-
gerous) everywhere in the way in which we
must walk, and even in those ways where we
least think. Everywhere does the enemy of
our souls lay 'traps and snares for us ; in our
table, in our bed, in our company and alone.
U the heart be earthly and carnal, there is
the snare of riches and gains, or pleasures,
present, to think upon ; and if they delight
m spiritual things, that walk is not exempted
neither ; there are snares of doublings, pre-
sumption, and pride ; and in converse of one
Christian with another, where spiritual affec-
tion hath been stirred, it turns often to car-
nal passions, as the Apostle says of the Ga-
latians, They begin in the Spirit, and end
in the flesh, Gal. iii. 3.
This observing and watching, as it is need,
ful, so it is a very delightful thing, though
it will be hard and painful to the unexperien-
ced, to have a man's actions and words
continually curbed ; so that he cannot speak
or do what he would : these are fetters and
bonds, yet to those that know it, it is a
pleasure to gain experience, and to be more
skilled in preventing the surprises of our ene-
mies, and upon that to have something added
to our own art, and to be more able to resist
upon new occasions, and to find ourselves
every day outstripping ourselves ; that is the
sweetest life in the world ; the soul to be
dressing itself for the espousals of the Great
King, putting on more of the ornaments and
beauties of holiness ; that is our glory, to be
made conformable to the image of God and
of Jesus Christ. If an image had sense, it
would desire nothing so much as to look on
the original whence it received its name, and
to become more and more like it : so it is
the pleasure of renewed souls to be looking
on him, and so growing daily more like him,
whose living image they are, and to be fitting
themselves for that day of glory, wherein
they shall be like him in the perfection they
are capable of; and this makes death more
pleasant than life to the believer : that,
which seems so bitter to the most of men, is
sweetened to them most wonderfully ; the
continual observance of a man's ways, keep-
ing a watch continually over them, this
casts a light upon the dark passage of death,
which is at the end of that walk, and con-
veys him through to the fulness of life : so
that man, who observes himself and his ways
through his life, hath little to do in examin-
ing them when he comes to die. That is a
piece of strange folly, that we defer the whole,
or a great part of our day's work to the twi-
light of the evening, and are so cruel to our-
selves, as to keep the great load of our life
for a few hours or dayss and for a pained
sickly body. He who makes it his daily
work to observe his ways, is not astonished
when that day comes, which long before was
familiar to him every day.
That I sin not with my tongue.] It is
the wise man's advice, keep thy heart with
all diligence, or above all keeping, and he
gives the satisfying reason of it, for out of
it ere the issues of life, Prov. iv. 23. Such
as the spring is, so will the streams be ;
the heart is the spring from whence all the
natural life and vital spirits flow through the
body, and, in the Scripture sense, it is the
spring of aU our actions and conversation ;
"or it sends out emissaries through all, through
ON PSALM XXXIX.
313
tne eye, hr.nd, and all the senses and organs
of the body, but through none more con-
stantly and abundantly than the tongue :
and therefore Solomon, after these words,
immediately adds, Put away from thee a
froward nwuth, and perverse lips put far
from thee. The great current of the heart
runs in that channel : for it is the organ
of societies, and is commonly employed in
all the converse of men ; and we can still,
%vhen all the other members are useless, use
our tongues in regretting their unfitness for
their offices ; so sick and old persons : thus
David here, as it seems under some bodily
sickness, labours to refrain his tongue ; and,
lest it should prove too strong for him, he
puts a curb upon it ; though it did not free
him from inward frettings of his heart, yet
he lays a restraint upon his tongue, to stay
the progress of sin, that grows in vigour by
going out, and produces and begets sin of
the same kind in the hearts and months of
others, when it passes from the heart to the
tongue. The Apostle James does amply and
excellently teach the great importance ol
ordering the tongue in all a Christian's
life ; but we are ever learning and never
taught. We hear how excellent a guard
this is to our lives, to keep a watch over
our tongue ; but I fear few of us gain the
real advantage of this rule, and are far from
the serious thoughts that a religious person
had of this Scripture, who, when he heard
it read, retired himself for many years to the
study of this precept, and made very good
proficiency in it,
In all the disorders of the world, the
tongue hath a great share ; to let pass those
irruptions of infernal furies, blasphemies, and
cursing, lying and uncharitable speeches ;
how much have we to account for unprofit-
able talking ! It is a lamentable thing,
that there is nothing, for the most part, in
common entertainments and societies of men
together, but refuse and trash, as if their
tongues were given them for no other em
but to be their shame, by discovering thei:
folly and weakness. As likewise that of im-
patient speech in trouble and affliction, which
certainly springs from an unmodified spirit
that hath learned nothing of that great lesson
of submission to the will of God ; but foi
all the disorders of the tongue, the remedj
must begin at the heart ; purge the fountain
and then the streams will be clean ; keep thy
heart, and then it will be easy to keep th;
tongue. It is a great help in the quality of
speech, to abate in the quantity ; not to speak
rashly, but to ponder what we are going to
say, Set a watch before the door of thy lips,
Psal. cxli. 3. He bids us not build it up
inually. A Christian must labour to have
lis speech as contracted as can be, in the
hings of this earth ; and even in divine things
mr words should be few and wary. In
ipeaking of the greatest things, it is a great
>oint of wisdom not to speak much ; that
s David's resolution, to keep silence, espe-
cially before the wicked, who came to visit
lim, probably, when he was sick ; while
hey were there, he held a watch before hit
'ips, to speak nothing of God's hand on
lim, lest they should have mistaken him ;
and a man may have some thoughts of divine
hings, that were very impertinent to speak
out indifferently to all sorts, even of good
jersons. This is a talkative age, and people
contract a faculty to speak much in matters
of religion,, though their words for the most
sart be only the productions of their own
Drain, little of these things in their hearts.
Surely these kind of speeches are as bad as
any, when holy things are spoken of with a
national freedom, where there is nothing but
empty words They who take themselves
to solitude, choose the best and easiest part,
if they have a warrant so to do : for this world
is a tempestuous sea, in which there are
many rocks, and a great difficulty it is to
steer this little helm aright amidst them :
however, the Apostle James makes it a great
character of a Christian's perfection, If any
man offend not in word, the same is a per-
fect man, chap. iii. ver. 2. But where is
that. man ? Seeing we find men generally,
and most of all ourselves, so far from this,
it cannot choose but work this, to stir up
ardent desires in us, to be removed to that
blessed society, where there shall be never
a word amiss, nor a word too much.
LECTURE II.
VER. 2. I was dumb with silence ; I held my peace
even from good ; and my sorrow was stirred.
VKR. 3. My heart was hot within me; while 1
was musing the fire burned j then spake I with
my tongue.
It is a very useful and profitable thing to
observe the mo'Jons and deportments of the
spirits of wise and holy men, in all the va-
rious postures and conditions they are in ;
it is for that purpose they are drawn out to
us in the Scriptures. There are some graces
that are more proper, and come more in ac-
tion in times of ease and prosperity, such as
temperance, moderation of mind, humility,
and compassion. Others are more proper
for times of distress, as faith, fortitude,
patience, and resignation. It is very ex-
like a stone wall, that nothing go in or come • pedient, if not necessary, that affliction have
out : but he speaks of a door, which may its turns, and frequently in the lives of the
be sometimes open, oft-times shut, but
children of God : it is the tempest that gives
withal to have a watch standing before it con- evidence of the pilot's skill ; and as the
314
EXPOSITORY LECTURES
[LECT. i.
Lord delighteth in all his works, looks on
the frame and conduct in all things with
pleasure, so he is delighted to look on this
part, on this low sea of troubles, to see his
champions meet with hard and pressing trials,
such as sometimes do not only make them
feel them, but do often make the conflict
dubious to them, that they seem to be almost
foiled ; yet do they acquit themselves and
come off with honour. It is not the excel-
lency of grace to be insensible in trouble, (as
some philosophers would have their wise
men,) but to overcome and be victorious.
Among the rest of this holy man's troubles,
this was one, that the wicked did reproach
him : this is a sharp arrow, that flies thick
in the world. It is one of the sharpest stings
of poverty, that as it is pinched with wants
at home, so it is met with scorn abroad. . It
is reckoned among the sharp sufferings of
holy men, Heb. xi. that they suffered litter
mockings. Now, men commonly return
these in the same kind, that is, by the tongue,
whereof David is here aware ; he refrains
himself even from good, not only from his
just defence, but even from good and pious
discourses. We do so easily exceed in our
words, that it is better sometimes to be wholly
silent, than to speak that which is good ; for
our good borders so near upon evil, and so
easy is the transition from the one to the
other, that though we begin to speak of God
and good things, with a good intention, yet
how quickly run we into another channel ; pas-
sion and self having stolen in, turn us quite
from the first design of our speech ; and this
chiefly in disputes and debates about religion,
wherein, though we begin with zeal for God,
yet oft-times in the end, we testify nothing
but our own passion, and sometimes we do
lie one against another in defence of what we
call the truth.
It cannot be denied, that to an holy heart,
it is a great violence to be shut up altogether
from the speech of God. It burns within,
especially in the time of affliction, as was the
case of Jeremiah : Then I said, I will not
make mention of him, nor speak any more
in his name : but his word was in my heart
as a burning fire shut up in my bones ; and
T was weary with forbearing, and could
not slay, Jer. xx. 9 ; so it is here with
David ; therefore he breaks out : the fire
burns upward, and he speaks to God.
Let this be our way, when we cannot find
ease among men, to seek it in God; he
Knows the language of his children, and will
not mistake it ; yea, where there may be
somewhat of weakness and distemper, he will
Dear with it. In all your distresses, in all
your moanings, go to him, pour out your
tears to him ; not only fire, but even water,
where it wants a vent, will break upward ;
these tears drop not in our own lap, but they
fall on his, and he hath a bottle to put them
in ; if ye empty them there, they shall return
in wine of strong consolation.
Ver. 4. Now David's request is, Lord,
make me to know mine end, and the mea-
sure of my days, what it is ; that I may
know how frail I am.] In which he does
not desire a response from God, about the
day of his death, but instruction concerning
the frailty and shortness of 'his life ; but did
not David know this ? Yes, he knew it,
and yet he desires to know it. It is very fit
we ask of God that he would make us to
know the things that we know, I mean, that
what we know emptily and barely, we may
know spiritually and fruitfully, if there be
any measure of this knowledge, that it may
increase and grow more. We know that we
are sinners, but that knowledge commonly
produces nothing but cold, dry, and senseless
confusion ; but the right knowledge of s>in
would prick our hearts, and cause us to pour
them out before the Lord. We know that
Jesus is the Saviour of sinners ; it were fit
to pray that we knew more of him, so much
of him as might make us shape and fashion
our hearts to his 'likeness. We know we
must die, and that it is no long course to
the utmost period of life, yet our hearts are
little instructed by this knowledge ; how
great need have we to pray this prayer with
David here, or that with Moses, Teach us
to number our days, that we may apply our
hearts unto wisdom, Psal. xc. 12. Did we
indeed know and consider how quickly we
shall pass from hence, it were not possible for
us to cleave so fast to the things of this life ;
and, as foolish children, to wade in ditches,
and fill our laps with mire and dirt ; to pre-
fer base earth and flesh to immortality and
glory.
That I may know how frail I am.} Most
part of men are foolish, inconsiderate crea.
tures, like unto the very beasts that perish,
Psal. xlix. 12, only they are capable of
greater vanity and misery : but, in as irra-
tional a way, they toil on and hurry them,
selves in a multitude of business, by multi-
tudes of desires, fears, and hopes, and know
not whither all tends ; but one well advised
thought of this one thing would temper them
in their hottest pursuits, if they would but
think how frail they are, how vain a passing
thing, not only these their particular desires
and projects are, but they themselves, and
their whole life. David prays that he may
know his end : and his prayer is answered,
Behold thou hast made my days as an hand*
breadth, ver. 5. If we were more in requests
of this kind, we should receive more speedy
and certain answers. If this be our request,
to know ourselves, our frailties and vanity,
we should know that our days are few and
evil, both the brevity and vanity of them.
Ver. 5. Thou hast measured out my days
as anhand-breadth.'} That is one of the short-
ON PSALM XXXIX.
315
est measures ; we need not long lines to
measure our lives by, each one carries a mea-
sure about with him, his own hand, that is
the longest and fullest measure. It is not
so much as a span : that might possibly have
been the measure of old age in the infancy of
the world, but now it is contracted to an
hand-breadth, and that is the longest ; but
how many fall short of that ? Many attain
not to a finger-breadth ; multitudes pass from
the womb to the grave ; and how many end
their course within the compass of childhood !
Whether we take this hand-breadth for
the fourscore years, that is ordinarily the ut-
most extent of man's life in our days, or for
the four times of old age, in which we use
to distinguish it, childhood, youth, manhood,
arid old age ; there are great numbers we see
take up their lodging ere they come near the
last of any of these, and few attain to the ut-
most border of them. All of us are but a
hand-breadth from death, and not so much :
for many of us have passed a great part of
that hand-breadth already, and we know not
how little of it is behind. We use commonly
to divide our lives by years, months, weeks,
>nd days, but it is all but one day ; there is
the morning, noon, afternoon, and evening :
Man is as the grass that springs in the
morning, Psal. xc. 5 : as for all the days
that are past of our life, death hath them
/ather than we, and they ar-i already in its
possession ; when we look back on them,
they appear but as a shadow or dream, and
if they be so to us, how much more short are
they in the sight of God ! So says David
here, when I look on thee and thy eternity,
mine age is as nothing before thee ; what
j.s our life, being compared to God, before
vchom a thousand years are but as one day,
and less, like yesterday, when it is past, and
that is but a thought ! The whole duration
of the world is but a point in respect of eter-
nity, and how small a point is the life of
man, even in comparison with that !
The brevity of our life is a very useful
consideration ; from it we may learn patience
under all our crosses and troubles ; they may
be shorter than life, but they can be no long-
er. There are few that an affliction hath
lain on all the days of their life ; but though
that were the case, yet a little time, and how
quickly is it done ! While thou art asleep,
there is a cessation of thy trouble ; and when
awake, bemoaning and weeping for it, and
for the sin that is the cause of it, in the
mean time it is sliding away. In ail the
bitter blasts that blow on thy face, thou, who
art a Christian indeed, mayest comfort thy-
self in the thought of the good lodging that
is before thee. To others it were the great-
est comfort, that their afflictions in this life
were lengthened out to eternity.
Likewise, this may teach us temperance
in those things that are called the good thing*
of this world. Though a man had a lease
of all those fine things the world can afford
for his whole life, (which yet never any man
that I know of had,) what is it ? a feigned
dream of an hour long. None of these
things, that now it takes so much delight in,
will accompany the cold lump of clay to the
grave. Within a little while, those that are
married and rejoice, shall be as if they re-
joiced not, 1 Cor. xii. 29, nor ever had done
it ; and if they shall be so quickly, a wise
man makes little difference, in these things,
betwixt their presence and absence.
This thought should also teach us dili-
gence in our business. We have a short
day, and much to do ; it were fit to be up
early, to remember thy Creator in the days
of thy youth ; and ye that are come to riper
years, be advised to lay hold on what re-
mains, yc know not how little it is.
The more you fill yourselves with the
things of this life, the less desires you will
have after those rivers of pleasures, that
are at God's right hand ; those shall never
run dry, but all these other things shall
be dried up within a little space ; at the
furthest, when old age and death come, if
not sooner. And on the other side, the
more we deny ourselves the sensual enjoy-
ments of a present world, we grow the liker
to that divine estate, and are made the surer
of it ; and I am sure all will grant that tins'
is a very gainful exchange.
Verily, every man at his best estate it
altogether vanity.] It is no wonder that
the generality of men are strangers to God,
for they are strangers to themselves. The
cure of both these evils is from the same
hand. He alone can teach us what he is,
and what we are ourselves. All know and
see that their life is short, and themselves
vanity. But this holy man thought it need-
ful to ask the true notion of it from above,
and he receives the measure of his life, even
an hand-breadth. There is a common im-
posture among people, to read their fortunes
by their hands ; but this is true palmistry
indeed, to read the shortness of our life upon
the palms of our hands.
Our days are not only few, but we our-
selves are vanity. Every man, even a godly
man, as he is a partaker of this life, is not
exempted from vanity, nay, he knows it
better than any other : but this thought com-
forts him, that he hath begun that life that
is above, and beyond all vanity. The words
are weighty and full. It is not a problem,
or a doubtful thing ; but surely every man
is vanity. I may call it a definition, and
so it is proven, Psal. cxliv. 2, 3, What is
man 9 He is like to vanity, and his days
are as a shadow that passes away. His
days do not only soon decline and pass away
as a shadow, but also they are like vanity.
While he appears to be something, he is no.
316
EXPOSITORY LECTURES
[LECT.
thing but the figure and picture of vanity.
He is like it, not the copy of it, but rather
the original and idea of it ; for he hath de-
rived vanity to the whole creation ; he hath
subjected the creatures to it, and hath
thrown such a load of it upon them, that they
groan under it ; and so vanity agrees to him
properly, constantly, and universally. Every
man, and that at his best estate, as the
word is, in his settled and fixed state ; set
him as sure and high as you will, yet he is
not above that, he carries it about with him
as he does his nature.
This is a very profitable truth to think
on, though some kind of hearers, even of the
better sort, would judge it more profitable to
hear of cases of conscience; but this is a
great case of conscience, to consider it well,
and carry the impression of it home with
you on your hearts. The extreme vanity of
ourselves, that we are nothing but vanity ;
and the note that is added here, Selah, if it
import any thing to the sense and confirma-
tion of what it is added to, it agrees well to
this : but if it be only a musical note, to di-
rect, as some think, the elevation, or, ac-
cording to others, the falling of the voice, it
fits the sense very well. For you have man
here lifted up and cast down again ; lifted
up, man at his best estate, and from that
thrown down to nothing, even in that estate
he is altogether vanity. What is that ? It
is, as the word signifies, an earthly vapour,
and it is generally used to signify things of
the least and meanest use, the most empty
airy things. So idols are oft called by that
name ; they are nothing, in respect of what
is attributed to them by the children of men ;
and such a thing is man, he seems to be
something, and is indeed nothing, as it is,
Psal. Ixii. 9, Men of low degree are va-
nity ; possibly that may be granted for a
truth, and they pass for such ; and he adds,
Men of high degree are a lie ; they pro-
mise something, and look bigger like, but
they are nothing more, except this, a lie,
and the greater they are, the louder lie.
This it is, then, that we should acquaint
ourselves with, that man, in this present life
in all the high advantages of it, is an empty,
feeble, fading thing. If we look to the
frame of man's body, what is he but a
muddy wall, an house of clay, whose foun-
dation is in the dust ? If we look within,
there is nothing there but a sink, an heap o:
filth. The body of man is not only subjeci
to fevers, hectics, &c. that make the wall to
moulder down ; but, take him in his health
and strength, what is he but a bag of rotten
ness ; and why should he take delight in his
beauty ? which is but the appearance of a
thing, which a fit of sickness will so easily
deface, or the running of a few years spoi
the fashion of; a great heat or a cold put:
that frame into disorder ; a few days' sick
ness lays him in the dust, or much blood
'athered within gathers fevers and pleurisies,
ind so destroys that life it should maintain :
or a fly or a crumb of bread may stop his
>reath, and so end his days.
If we consider men in societies, in cities
and towns, often hath the overflowing scourge
if famine and pestilence laid them waste,
,nd from those they cannot secure them-
selves in their greatest plenty and health,
)ut they come in a sudden, and unlocked
or. If we could see all the parts and per-
sons in a great city at once, how many woes
,nd miseries should we behold there ! how
many either want bread, or scarcely have it
>y hard labour ! then, to hear the groans of
dying persons, and the sighs and weepings
of those about them ; how many of these
things are within the walls of great cities at
all times ! Great palaces cannot hold out
death, but it breaks through and enters there,
and thither oft-times the most painful and
shameful diseases that are incident to the
sons of men resort. Death, by vermin, hath
seized on some of the greatest kings that
have ever been in the world. If we look on
generals, who have commanded the greatest
armies, they carry about with them poor
frail bodies, as well as others ; they may be
killed with one small wound, as well as the
meanest soldier ; and a few days' intempe-
rance hath taken some of the most gallant
and courageous of them away in the midst
of their success. And, sure I am, he who
believes and considers the life to come, and
looks on this, and sees what it is, makes
little account of those things that have so
big a sound in the world, the revolutions of
states, crowns, kingdoms, cities, towns ; how
poor inconsiderable things are they, being
compared with eternity ! And he that looks
not on them as such is a fool.
LECTURE III.
VKR. 6. Surely every man walks In a vain show:
surely they are disquieted in vain : he heapeth up
riches, and knoweth not who shall gather them.
THERE is a part of our hand-breadth past
since we last left this place, and, as we are
saying this, we are wearing out some por-
tion of the rest of it ; it were well, if we con-
sidered this so as to make a better improve-
ment of what remains, than, I believe, we
shall find, upon examining of our ways, of
what is past. Let us see if we can gain the
space of an hour, that we may be excited to
a better management of the latter part of our
time than we have made of the former.
We are all, I think, convinced of the
vanity of man, as to his outside, that he is
a feeble, weak, poor creature ; but we may
VKB. G.]
ON PSALM XXXIX.
317
have hope of somewhat better, in that which
is the man indeed, his mind and intellectual
part. It is true, that that was originally
excellent, and that there is somewhat of a
radical excellency still in the soul of man ;
jet it is so desperately degenerate, that, na-
turally, man, even in that consideration, is
altogether vanity, in all the pieces of him ;
his mind is but a heap of vanity, nothing
there but ignorance, folly, and disorder;
and if we think not so, we are the more
foolish and ignorant. That which passes
with great pomp, under the title of learning
and science, it is commonly nothing else but
a rhapsody of words and empty terms, which
have nothing in them to make known the
internal nature of things.
But even those who have the improvement
of learning and education, who understand
the model and government of affairs, that see
their defects, and entertain themselves with
various shapes of amending and reforming
them, even in those we shall find nothing
but a sadder and more serious vanity. It is
a tormenting and vexing thing for men to
promise to themselves great reformations
and bettering of things ; that thought usual-
ly deludes the wisest of men ; they must at
length come to that of Solomon, after much
labour to little purpose, that crooked things
cannot be made straight, Eccles. i. 15, yea,
many things grow worse, by labouring to
rectify them ; therefore he adds, but he that
increateth knowledge increaseth sorrow.
As for knowledge in religion, we see the
greatest part of the world lying in gross
darkness : and even amongst Christians,
how much ignorance of these things: which
appears in this, that there are such swarms
and productions of debates and contentions,
that they are grown past number, and each
party confident that truth is on his side, and
ordinarily, the most ignorant and erroneous,
the most confident and most imperious in
their determinations ; surely it were a great
part of our wisdom to free our spirits from
these empty fruitless janglings, that abound
in the Christian world.
It were an endless toil to go through all
degrees, professions, and employments of
men in the world ; we may go through na-
tions, countries, crafts, schools, colleges,
courts, camps, councils of state, and parlia-
ments, and find nothing in all these, but still
more of this trouble and vexation, in a more
fine dress and fashion, altogether vanity.
Every man walks in a vain show.] Hi
walk is nothing but a going on in continual
vanity, adding a new stock of vanity, of his
own coining, to what he has already within,
and vexation of spirit woven all along ii
with it. He was in an image, as the word
is, converses with things of no reality, and
which have no solidity in them, and he him-
self as little. He himself is a walking
mage, in the midst of these images. Tney
that are taken with the conceit of images and
pictures, that is an emblem of their own life,
and of all other means also. Every man's
"ancy is to himself a gallery of pictures, and
there he walks up and down, and considers
not how vain these are, and how vain a
thing he himself is.
JMy brethren, they are happy persons,
'but few are they in number,) that are truly
weaned from all those images and fancies the
world doats so much upon. If many of the
children of men would turn their own thoughts
Backwards in the evening but of one day, what
would they find for the most part, but that they
lave been walking among these pictures, and
jassing from one vanity to another, and
jack again to and fro ; to as little purpose
as the running up and down of children at
their play ! He, who runs after honour,
Measure, popular esteem, what do you think ?
does not that man walk in an image, pursu-
ng after that, that hath no other being but
what the opinion and fancy of men give to it,
especially the last, which is a thing so fluc-
:uating, uncertain, and inconstant, that while
le hath it, he hath nothing ? The other
mage, that man follows and worships, is
:hat in the text, that wretched madness of
leaping up riches : this is the great foolish-
ness and disease, especially of old age, that
the less way a man has to go, he makes the
greater provision for it ; when the hands are
stiff, and for no other labour, they are fitted
and composed for scraping together. But
for what end dost thou take all this pains ?
If for thyself, a little sober care will do thy
turn, if thy desires be sober ; and if not so,
thy diligence were better bestowed in im-
pairing and diminishing of thesv, and that is
the easier way a great deal. And if it be
for others, why dost thou take a certain un-
ease to thyself for the uncertain ease of others ?
And who these are, thou dost not know ;
may be, such as thou never intended them
for. It were good we used more easy and
undistracting diligence, for increasing of
these treasures, which we cannot deny arc
far better, and whosoever hath them, may
abound therein with increase ; he knows well
for whom he gathers them ; he himself shall
possess them through all eternity.
If there were not a hope beyond this life,
there were reasons for that passionate word in
Psal. Ixxxix. 47, Why hast (hou made all
men in vain ? To what purpose were it for
poor wretched man, to have been all his days
tossed upon the waves of vanity, and then
to lie down in the grave and be no more heard
of? But it is not so : he is made capable
of a noble and blessed life beyond this ; and
our forgetfulness of this is the cause of all
our misery and vanity here.
It is a great folly to complain of the short-
ness of our life, and yet to lavish it out to
313
EXPOSITORY LECTURES
[l.ECT. IV.
prodigally on trifles and shadows : if it were
well managed, it would be sufficient for all
we have to do. The only way to live, indeed,
is to be doing service to God, and good to
men : this is to live much in a little time.
But when we play the fools in mispending
our time, it may be indeed a sad thought to us,
when we find it gone, and we are benighted
in the dark so far from our home. But those
that have their souls untied from this world
and knit to God, they need not complain of
the shortness of it, having laid hold on eter-
nal life ; for this life is flying away, there
is no laying hold on it ; it is no matter how
soon it go away, the sooner the better, for to
such persons it seems rather to go too slow.
LECTURE IV
VER. 7. And now, Lord, what wait I for? my
hope is in thee.
To entertain the minds of men with
thoughts of their own vanity, and discourses
of their own misery, seems to be sad and
unpleasant ; but certainly it is not unprofit-
able, unless it be our own choice 'to make
it so ; and that were the greatest vanity and
misery of all. Indeed, if there were no help
for this sore evil, then the common shift were
not to be blamed, yea, it were to be chosen as
the only help in such a desperate case, not to
think on it, to forget our misery, and to divert
our thoughts from it, by all possible means, ra-
ther than to increase it, and torment ourselves,
by insisting and poring on it ; and in that
case, shallow minds would have the advan-
tage, that could not converse with these sad
thoughts : for to increase this knowledge
were but to increase sorrow. But far be it
from us thus to determine ; there is a hope
which is a help to this evil, and this is it that
this holy man fixes on, And now, Lord, &c.
otherwise it were strange, that the most ex-
cellent piece of the visible creation should be
made subject to -the most incurable unhappi-
ness, to feel misery which he cannot shun,
and tobe tormented with desires that cannot be
satisfied. But there is some better expecta-
tion for the souls of men, and it is no other
but himself who made them.
The wisest natural men have discoursed
of man's vanity, and passionately bemoaned
it, but in this they have fallen short, how
to remedy it. They have aimed at it and
come near it, but were not able to work it ;
they still laboured to be satisfied in them-
selves ; they speak somewhat of reason, but
that will not do it, for man being fallen
under the curse of God, there is nothing but
darkness and folly in himself. The only
way to blessedness is by going out of our-
selves unto God.
All our discourses of our own vanity will
but further disquiet us, if they do not termi-
nate here, if they do not fix on his eternal
happiness, goodness, and verity.
I am persuaded, if many would ask this
question at themselves, What wait I for 2
they would puzzle themselves and not find
an answer : there are a great many things
that men desire and are gaping after, but
few after one thing chiefly and stayedly :
they float up and down, and are carried about
without any certain motion, but by fancy,
and by guess ; and no wind can be fair for
such persons, that aim at no certain haven.
If we put this question to ourselves, What
would I have ? It were easy for many to
answer, I would have an easy, quiet, peace-
able life in this world ; so would an ox
or a horse : and is that all ? may be you
would have a greater height of pleasure and
honour ; but think on this one thing, that
there is this one crack and vanity that spoils
all these things, that they will not bear
you up when you lean to them in times of
distress ; and besides, when you have them,
they may be pulled from you, and if not,
you must be plucked away from them with-
in a little while ; there is much seeminp
content in the pursuit of these things, bin
they are lost with greater discontent. It is
God's goodness to men, to blast all things
in the world to them, and to break then
fairest hopes, that they may be constrained
to look about to Himself; he beats then
from all shores, that he may bring them fa
the Rock that is higher than they, Ps. Ixi. 2.
O ! that God would once touch some of
your hearts, that are under the chains of
darkness, that ye might once bethink where
to rest your heads in the midst of all our
confusions ; and here is the resting-place,
hope in God, Now, Lord, what wait I for 9
my hope is in thee. Blessed soul that can
say, " Lord, thou seest I desire nothing but
thyself, (as Peter said. Lord, thouknowest
I love thee,) all the corners of my heart
stand open in thy sight ; thou seest if there
be any other desire or expectation but to
please thee, and if there be any such/ thing
in me, (for I see it not,) I pray thee discover
it to me, and through thy grace it shall
lodge no longer. My heart is thine alone,
it is consecrated to thee ; and if any thing
would profane thy temple, if it will not go
forth by fair warning, let it be scourged out
by thy rod, yea, any rod whatsoever it
pleaseth thee to choose."
My hope is in thee.] This holy man, see-
ing the vanity of all other expectations and
pursuits of men, at length runs to this ; And
now, Lord, what wait I for ? my hope is
in thee : he finds nothing but moving sand
every where else ; but he finds this eternal
Rock to be a strong foundation, as the He-
brew word, by which he is styled, doih sig-
VEH. 7-]
ON PSALM XXXIX.
313
nify. It is true, the union of the heart with
God is made up by faith and love, but yet
both these, in this our present condition of
our absence and distance from God, do act
themselves much by the third grace, which
is joined with them, and that is hope. For
faith is conversant about things that are not
seen, and in a great part that are not yet,
but are to come : and the spirit of faith,
choosing things that are to come, is called
hope. It is true, that they are not so wholly
deferred, as that they possess nothing, but
yet the utmost they possess is but a pledge
and earnest-penny, a small thing in respect
of that eternal inheritance they look for.
What they have here is of the same kind with
what they expect ; but it is but a little por-
tion of it, the smiles and glances of their
Father's face, foretastes of Heaven, which
their souls are refreshed with ; but these are
but rare, and for a short time.
Hope is the great stock of believers, it is
that which upholds them under all the faint-
ings and sorrows of this life, and in their
going through the valley and shadow of
death. It is the helmet of their salvation,
which, while they are looking over to eternity,
beyond this present time, covers and keeps
their head safe amidst all the darts that fly
round about them. In the present discom-
fort and darkness of mind, and the saddest
hours they meet with in this life, hope is
that which keeps up the soul, and is that
which David cheered up his soul with, Psal.
xlii. 5, Why art thou cast down, O my
soul ? and why art thou disquieted in me £
Hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise
him for the help of his countenance. And
even in this point the children of the world
have no great advantage of the children of
' God, as to the things of this life ; for much
of their satisfaction, such as it is, does hang,
for the most part, on their hope ; the happi-
est and richest of them dc still piece it out
with some further expectation, something
they look for beyond what they have, and
the expectation of that pleases them more
than all their present possessions. But this
great disadvantage they have, all their hopes
are but heaps of delusions and lies, and either
they die and obtain them not, or if they ob-
tain them, yet they obtain them not, they
are so far short of what they fancied and
imagined of them beforehand. But the hope
of the children of God, as it is without fail
sure, so it is inconceivably full and satisfy-
ing, far beyond what the largest apprehen-
sion of any man is able to reach. Hope in
God ! what is wanting there ?
This hope lodges only in the pure heart ;
it is a precious liquor that can only be kept in
a clean vessel, and that which is not so, can-
not receive it : but what it seems to receive
it corrupts and destroys. It is a confidence
arising from peace, agreement, and friend.
ship, which cannot be betwixt the God of
purity, and those who allow unholiness in
hemselves. It is a strange impudence for
men to talk of their trust and hope in God,
who are in perfect hostility against him ;
>old fellows go through dangers here, but it
will not be so hereafter, Jer. ii. 27, They
urn to me the back and not the face ; yet
n their trouble they say, Arise and save
us ; they do it as confidently as if they never
lad despised God ; but they mistake the
matter, it is not so. Go and cry, says he,
'o the gods whom ye have chosen, Judges x.
1 4. When men come to die, then they catch
iold of the mercy of God ; but from that
heir filthy hands are beat off, there is no
lelp for them there, and so they fall down
o the pit. An holy fear of God, and a
lappy hope in him, are commonly linked to-
gether : Behold the eye of the Lord is upon
hem that fear him, upon them that hope
n his mercy, Psal. xxxiii. 18.
And even in those who are more purified
rom sin, yet too large draughts of lawful
ileasures do clog the spirits, and make this
lope grow exceeding weak ; surely the more
we fill ourselves with these things, we leave
.he less appetite for the consolations of this
blessed hope. They cannot know the ex-
cellency of this hope, who labour not to keep
t unmixed : it is best alone, as the richest
wines and oils, which are the worst of mix-
:ures. Be sober and hope, 1 Pet. i. 13 ;
ceep your mind sober, and your hope shall
je pure. Any thing or person that leans on
two supporters, whereof the one is whole and
sound, and the other broken or crooked, that
which is unsound breaks, though the other
remain whole, and they fall ; whereas the one
that was whole had been sufficient : thus it
is, when we divide our hopes betwixt God
and this present world, or any other good ;
those that place their whole hopes on God,
they gather in all their desires to him ; the
streams of their affections are not scattered
and left in the muddy ditches of the world,
they do not fall into sinking pools, but being
jathered into one main torregt, they run on
in that channel to the sea of his eternal good-
ness.
My hope is in thee. ] We cannot choose
but all of us think that God is immensely
good in himself ; but that which is nearer,
whereon our hearts most rise, is a relative
goodness, that he is good to us, and that he
is so perfectly and completely good, that hav-
ing made choice of him, and obtained union
with him, we need no more. Were once the
hearts of the children of men persuaded of
this, all their deliberations were at an end,
they would not only choose no other, but de-
fer no longer to fix on him. And what can
trouble the soul that is thus established ? No
change or overturning of outward things :
though the frame of the world itself were
EXPOSITORY LECTURES
320
shaken to pieces, yet still the bottom of this
hope is Him that changeth not : and what-
ever thy pressures be, poverty, sickness, ar
disquiet of mind, thou mayest draw abun-
dant consolation from him in whom thou hast
placed thy hope. There is only one thing
that cruelly assaults it by the way, and that
is the guilt of sin. All afflictions and trou-
bles we meet with are not able to mar this
hope or quench it ; for where it is strong, it
either breaks through them, or flies above
them ; they cannot overcome it, for there is
no affliction inconsistent with the love of
God, yea, the sharpest affliction may some-
times have the clearest characters of his love
upon it ; but it is sin that presents him as
angry to the view of the soul. When he
looks through that cloud, he seems to be an
enemy ; and when we apprehend him in that
aspect, we are affrighted, and presently ap-
prehend a storm ; but even in this case, this
hope apprehends his mercy. And thus David
here.
LECTURE V.
VKR. 8. Deliver me from all my transgressions;
make me not the reproach of the foolish.
THIS is indeed the basis and foundation
of all our other hopes, the free pardon of our
sins ; but none must entertain these sins, if
they desire to be pardoned. Repentance
and remission of sins are still linked to-
gether in the Scriptures ; and he that would
have sin pardoned, and yet live in it, or re-
tain the love of it, would have God and sin
reconciled together, and that can never be.
David finds his sins pressing him down ; he
sees them as an army of men set in battle
array about him : and whither flies he for a
deliverance ? even to Him whom he had of-
fended.
Ver. 10,11. Remove thy stroke away,
from me : I am consumed by the blow of
thine hand, fyhen thou with rebukes dost
correct man for iniquity, thou makest his
beauty to consume away like A moth : sure-
ly every man is vanity. Selah. We are
naturally very partial judges of ourselves;
and as if we were not sufficiently able by na-
ture, we study and devise by art to deceive
ourselves. We are ready to reckon any good
that is in us to the full, nay, to multiply it
beyond what it is ; and yet to help this, we
use commonly to look on those, who have
less goodness in them, who are weaker, more
foolish and worse than ourselves ; and so we
magnify the sense of our own worth and
goodness by that comparison. And as in
the goodness, we have, or imagine we have, so
likewise in the evils we suffer, we use to ex-
tol them very much in conceit. We account
[LECT. v.
our lightest afflictions very great ; and to
heighten our thoughts of them, we do readily
take a view of those who are more at ease,
and less afflicted than ourselves ; and by
these devices we nourish in ourselves pride,
by the overweening conceit of our goodness ;
and impatience, by the over-feeling sense of
our evils. But if we would help ourselves
by comparison, we should do well to view
those persons who are, or have been, eminent
for holiness, recorded in holy writ, or whom
we know in our own times, or have heard of
in former ; and by this means we should
lessen the great opinion we have of our own
worth ; and so likewise should we consider
the many instances of great calamities and
sorrows, which would tend to quiet our minds,
and enable us to possess our souls in pa-
tience, under the little burden of trials that
lies upon us : and, especially, we shall find
those instances to fall in together, that as
persons have been very eminent in holiness,
they have also been eminent in suffering very
sore strokes and sharp scourges from the
hand of God. If we would think on their
consuming blows and broken bones, their
bones burnt as an hearth, and their flesh
withered as grass, certainly we should en-
tertain our thoughts sometimes with wondei
of God's indulgence to us, that we are so
little afflicted, when so many of the children
of men, and so many of the children of God,
suffer so many and so hard things ; and thii
would very much add to the stock of ouf
praises. We should not think that we arc
more innocent in not deserving these things
that are inflicted on others, but rather, that
He who thus measures out to them and to
us, knows our size, and sees how weak we
are in comparison of them ; and that there-
fore he is indulgent to us, not because we are
better, but because we are weaker, and are
not able to bear so much as he lays on the
stronger shoulders. Even in the sharpest ot
these rods there is mercy. It is a privilege
to the sheep that is ready to wander, to be
beaten into a right way. When thou art
corrected, think that thereby thy sins are to
be purged out, thy passions and lusts to be
crucified by these pains ; and certainly he
that finds any cure of the evils of his spirit
by the hardest sufferings of his flesh, gets a
very gainful bargain. If thou account sin
thy greatest unhappiness and mischief, thou
wilt be glad to have it removed on any
terms. There is at least in the time of af-
fliction a cessation from some sins : the raging
lust of ambition and pride do cease, when a
man is laid upon his back ; and these very
cessations are some advantages. But there
is one great benefit of affrrction, which fol-
lows in the text, that it gives him the true
measure of himself.
When with rebukes thou dost correct
man, thou makest his beauty to consume
YER. 12.1
ON PSALM XXXIX.
321
away like a moth ; surely every man is
vanity. Selah.] Men at his best estate
is altogether vanity : but at his lowest estate
it appears best unto him, how much vanity
he is, and how much vanity he was at his
best estate, seeing he was then capable ot
such a change, to fall so low from such a
height. As that great man, who was seek-
ing new conquests, when he fell upon the
sand, and saw the print of his own body,
" Why," says he, " so small a parcel of
earth will serve me, who am seeking after
new kingdoms." Thus it is, when a man
is brought down, then he hath the right mea-
sure of himself, when he sees how vain a thing
he is.
Thus the Psalmist represents it here, both
as an argument to move God to compassion,
and to instruct himself and other men. So
Job xiii. 25, Wilt thou break a leaf driven
to and fro with the wind ? and wilt thou
pursue dry stubble $ Psal. ciii. 14, For
he knoweth our frame ; he remembereth
that we are dust. And his beauty, which
seemed to be his perfection, yet, when the
hand of God is on him, it is blasted as a
moth-eaten garment ; this should teach us
humility, and to beware of sin, which pro-
vokes God to pour out his heavy judgments
upon us. If any be proud of honour, let
him remember Nebuchadnezzar and Herod ;
or of riches, or of wit and endowments of
mind, let him think how soon God can make
all these to wither and melt away.
every man is vanity.
Surely
Ver. 12. Hear my prayer, O Lord, and
give ear unto my cry ; hold not thy peace
at my tears : for I am a stranger with thee,
and a sojourner, as all my fathers were. ]
What is this life we cleave so fast to, and
are so uneasy to hear of parting with ; what
is it but a trance, and a succession of sorrows,
a weary tossing and tottering upon the waves
of vanity and misery ! No estate or course
of life is exempted from the causes of this
complaint ; the poorer and meaner sort are
troubled with wants, and the richer with the
care of what they have, and sometimes with
the loss of it, and the middle sort betwixt the
two, they partake, in common, of the vexa-
tions of both, for their life is spent in care for
keeping what they have, and in turmoil for
purchasing more. Besides a world of mise-
ries and evils, that are incident equally to all
sorts of men, such as sickness and pain of
body, which is both a sharp affliction, and
siis close to a man, and which he is least
able, either by strength of mind, or by any
art or rule, to bear ; and this guest does as
oft haunt palaces as poor cottages ; as many
groans of sick and diseased bodies within
silken curtains as in the meanest lodging.
Neither does godliness exempt the best of
men from the sufferings of this life. David,
who was both a great man and a good man,
did share deeply in these ; so that his con.
elusion still holds true, no instance can be
found to infringe it ; Surely every man is
altogether vanity.
It remains only to inquire, what manner
of men they are who are furnished with the
best helps, and with the most comfortable
mitigations of their trouble, and with the
strongest additions of support and strength
to bear them up under it ? And it will cer.
tainly be found that godliness alone hath this
advantage. And among the many consola-
tions godly men have under their trouble, this
is one, and the chief one, their recourse unto
prayer. So here, and Psal. cxlii. 4, 5. Isa.
xxxviii. 2, Hezekiah turned his face to-
wards the wall ; he turns his back on all
worldly councils and vain helps, and betakes
himself to prayer ; and prayer brings ease and
support, and seasonable deliverance to the
godly man ; but their sorrows shall be mul-
tiplied that hasten after other gods, Psal.
xvi. 4 : and this all ungodly men do when
they are afflicted : they run to other imagin-
ary helps of their own, and they prove but the
multipliers of sorrows, and add to their tor-
ment : they are miserable or troublesome
comforters ; like unskilful physicians, that
add to the patient's pain by nauseous, ill
chosen, and it may be, pernicious drugs.
Now, in this prayer of David, we find
three things, which are the chief qualifica-
tions of all acceptable prayers : the first is,
humility. He humbly confesses his sins,
and his own weakness and worthlessness.
We are not to put on a stoical, flinty kind of
spirit under our afflictions, that so we may
seem to shun womanish repinings, and com-
plaints, lest we run into the other evil, of
despising the hand of God, but we are to
humble our proud hearts, and break our un-
ruly passions. There is something of this
in the nature of affliction itself; as in the
day-time men are abroad, but the night draws
them home, so in the day of prosperity men
run out after vanities and pleasures, and when
the dark night of affliction comes, then men
should come home, and wisely lay the mat-
ter to heart. It is meet we humble ourselves
under the mighty hand of God. It is meet
to say unto him, as Job xxxiv. 31, / have
been chastised, or have borne chastisement,
and I will not offend any more: that is a
kind of language, that makes the rod fall out
of his hand ; that prayer ascends highest
that comes from the lowest depth of an hum.
bled heart. But God resists the proud, he
proclaims himself an enemy to pride and
stiffness of spirit, but his grace seeks the
humble heart, as water does the low ground.
If an holy heart be the temple of God
and therefore an house of prayer, certainly
when it is framed and builded for such,
the foundation of that temple is laid in deep
humility, otherwise no prayers that are offered
322
EXPOSITORY LECTURES
[LECT. vr.
up in it have the smell of pleasing incense t
him.
The second qualification of this prayer i
fervency and importunity, which appears i
the elegant gradation of the words, hear m
prayer, my words ; if not that, yet, give ea
to my cry, which is louder ; and if that pre
vail not, yet, hold not thy peace at
tears, which is the loudest of all : so David
elsewhere, calls it the voice of his weeping
Though this gift of tears doth often flow
from the natural temper, yet where that tern
per becomes spiritual and religious, it prove
a singular instrument of repentance an
prayer. But yet there may be a very grei
height of piety and godly affections wher
tears are wanting ; yea, this defect may pro
ceed from a singular sublimity of religion i
their souls, being acted more in the uppe
region of the intellectual mind, and so no
communicating much with the lower affec
tions, or these expressions of them. We ar
not to judge of our spiritual proficiency b
the gift of prayer, for the heart may be ver
spiritually affected, where there is no readi
ness or volubility of words : the sure mea
sure ef our growth is to be had from our holi
ness, which stands in this, to see how ou
hearts are crucified to the world, and how w
are possessed with the love of God, and wit!
ardent longings after union with him, an
dwelling in his presence hereafter, and in
being conformed to his will here.
It is the greatest folly imaginable in some
to shed tears for their sins, and within a littl
while to return to them again ; they think
there is some kind of absolution in this way
of easy venting themselves by tears in prayer
and when a new temptation returns, they
easily yield to it. This is lightness and
foolishness, like the inconstancy of a woman,,
who entertains new lovers in her mourning
apparel, having expressed much sorrow anc
grief for her former husband.
Now, fervency in prayer hath in it, 1st, At-
tentiveness of mind. If the mind be not pre-
sent, it is impossible that much of the heart
and affections can be there. How shall
think that God shall hear these prayers which
we do not hear ourselves ? And shall we
think them worthy of his acceptance, that
are not worthy of our thoughts ? Yet we
should not leave off prayer because of the
wanderings of our hearts in it, for that is the
very design of the devil, but still we must
continue in it, and amend this fault as much
as we can ; by remembering in the entry,
with whom we have to do, by freeing our
minds as much as may be, from the entangle-
ments and multiplicity of business, and by
labouring to have our thoughts often in Hea-
ven ; for where the heart is much, it will be
ever and anon turning thitherward, without
any difficulty.
2dly, Fervency of praver hath
m it an in-
tense bent of the affections, to have our de-
sires as ardent as can be for the pardon of
sin, for the mortifying our lusts and passions,
for the delivering us from the love of our-
selves and this present world ; and for sucli
spiritual things to pray often, and to follow
it with importunity, that is, to pray fervent-
ly, never to rest till an answer come.
The third qualification is, Heb. xi. 6,
lie who comes to God must believe that he
is, and that he is a rewarder of all that
diligently seek him. And certainly, as he
that comes to God must believe this, so he
that believes this cannot but come to God ;
and if he be not presently answered, he that
believes makes no haste, he resolves patiently
to wait for the Lord, and to go to no other.
Surely there is much to be had in prayer :
all good may be obtained, and all evil avert-
ed by it ; yea, it is a reward to itself. It is
the greatest dignity of the creature to be ad-
mitted to converse with God ; and certainly
the soul that is much in prayer, grows in
purity, and is raised by prayer to the despis-
ing of all those things that the world ad-
mires, and is in love with, and by a wonder*
ful way is conformed to the likeness of God.
For I am a stranger with thee, and a
sojourner, as all my fathers were.] In the
law, God recommended strangers to the care
and compassion of his people ; now David
returns the argument to him ; for I am a
stranger with thee, that is, before thee,
" in this world wherein thou hast appointed
me to sojourn a few days, and I betake mv-
self to thy protection in this strange country ;
[ seek shelter under the shadow of thy
wings, therefore have compassion upon me."
He that looks on himself as a stranger, and
s sensible of the darkness both round about
lira in this wilderness, and also with him,
le will often put up that request with Da-
id, Psal. cxix. 19, / am a stranger on this
earth ; hide not thy commandments from
me : do not let me lose my way. And as
we should use this argument to persuade
Jod to look down upon us, so likewise to
>ersuade ourselves to send up our hearts and
lesires to him. What is the joy of our life,
iut the thoughts of that other life, our home
•efore us ? And, certainly, he that lives
nuch in these thoughts, set him where you
ill here, he is not much pleased nor dis-
leased : but if his Father call him home,
:iat word gives him his heart's desire.
LECTURE VI.
VRR. i3. O spare me, that I may recover strength,
before I go hence, and be no more.
WHY is it that we do not extremely hate
lat which we so desperately love, sin ? For
VEII. 13.]
ON PSALM XXXIX.
323
the deformity of itself is unspeakable ; and
besides, it is the cause of all our woes ; sin
hath opened the sluices, and lets in all the
deluges of sorrows, which make the life of
poor man nothing else but vanity and mi-
sery ; so that the meanest orator in the world
may be eloquent enough on that . subject.
What is our life, but a continual succession
of many deaths ? Though we should say
nothing of all the bitterness and vexations
that are hatched under the sweetest pleasures
in the world, this one thing is enough, the
multitudes of diseases and pains, the variety
of distempers, that those houses we are lodged
in are exposed to. Poor creatures are oft-
times tossed betwixt two, the fear of death
and the tediousness of life ; and under these
fears they cannot tell which to choose. Holy
men are not exempted from some apprehen-
sions of God's displeasure because of their
sins ; and that may make them cry out with
David, O spare me, that I may recover
strength, before I go hence, and be no
more. Or, perhaps, this may be a desire,
not so much simply for the prolonging of
life, as for the intermitting of his pain ; to
have ease from the present smart ; the ex-
treme torment of some sickness may draw
the most fixed and confident spirits to cry
out very earnestly for a little breathing ; or
rather, if it be the desire of a recovery, and
the spinning out of the thread of his life a
little longer, surely he intended to employ it
for God and his service ; but long life was
suitable to the promises of that time ; so
Hezekiah, Isa. xxxviii. There is no doubt
these holy men, under the law, knew some-
what of the state of immortality, Heb. xi. ;
they calling themselves strangers on earth,
argued that they were no strangers to these
thoughts ; but it cannot be denied, that that
doctrine was but darkly laid out in these
times ; it is Christ Jesus that hath brought
life and immortality to light, who did illu-
minate life and immortality, that before stood
in the dark.
Surely the desire of life is, for the most
part, sensual and base, when men desire that
they may still enjoy their animal pleasures,
and are loath to be parted from them. They
are pleased to term it, a desire to live anc
repent : and yet few do it when they are
spared : like evil debtors, who desire for-
bearance from one term to another, but will
no design at all to pay. But there is a na-
tural desire of life, something of abhorrence
of nature against the dissolution of these
tabernacles. We are loath to go forth, like
children who are afraid to walk in the dark
not knowing what may be there. In soiiae
such a desire of life may be very reasonable
being surprised by sickness, and apprehen.
sions of death, and sin unpardoned, they
may desire a little time before they ente
into eternity ; for that change if not a thing
d be hazarded upon a few days or hours
reparation : I will not say that death-bed
epentance is altogether desperate, but cer.
ainly it is very dangerous, and to be sus-
>ected ; and therefore, the desire of a little
ime longer, in such a case, may be very
allowable.
I will not deny but it is possible, even for
a believer, to be taken in such a posture,
hat it may be very uncomfortable to him to
>e carried off so, through the affrightments cf
leath, and his darkness as to his after-state,
the other hand, it is an argument of a
jood measure of spirituality and height of
he love of God, to desire to depart, and be
dissolved, in the midst of health, and the
affluence of worldly comforts : but for men
to desire and wish to be dead, when they are
troubled and vexed with any thing, is but a
childish folly, flowing from a discontented
mind, which being over, they desire nothing
ess than to die. It is true there may be a
natural desire of death, which at some times
iath shined in the spirits of some natural
men : and there is much reason for it, not
only to be 'jeed from the evils and troubles
of this life, but even from those things which
many of this foolish world account their hap.
piness, sensual pleasures, to eat and drink,
and be hungry again ; and still to round the
same course, which, to souls that are raised
above sensual things, are burdensome ana
grievous.
But there is a spiritual desire of death,
which is very becoming a Christian ; for
Jesus Christ hath not only opened very clear,
ly the doctrine of eternal life, but he himself
hath passed through death, and lain down
in the grave ; he hath perfumed that pas.
sage, and warmed that bed for us ; so thai
it is sweet and amiable for a Christian to
pass through and follow him, and to be
where he is. It is a strange thing, that the
souls of Christians have not a continual do-
sire to go to that company which is above,
(finding so much discord and disagreement
among the best of men that are here,) to
go to the spirits of just men made perfect,
where there is light and love, and nothing
else, to go to the company of angels, an
higher rank of blessed spirits, but most of
all, to go to God, and to Jesus the Me-
diator of the New Testament. And, to.
say nothing positively of that glory, (for the
truth is, we can say nothing of it,) the very
evils, that death delivers the true Christian
from, may make him long for it ; for such
an one may say, " I shall die, and go to a.
more excellent country, where I shall be
happy for ever, that is, I shall die no more,
I shall sorrow no more, I shall be sick no
more ; and, which is yet more considerable,
I shall doubt no more, and shall be tempted
no more ; and, which is the chiefest of aH,
I shall sin no more."
ISAIAH VI.
LECTURE I. ON VER. 1—5.
THE division of this chapter (were that
to any great purpose) may be stated thus :
I. The prophet's vision, from ver. 1. to
the 3d, In the year that king Uzziah died,
I saw also the Lord sitting upon a throne,
high and lifted up, and his train filled the
temple. 2. Above it stood the seraphims :
each had six wings ; with twain he cover-
ed his face, and with twain he covered his
feet, and with twain he did fly. 3. And
one cried unto another, and said, Holy,
holy, holy is the Lord of hosts ; the whole
earth is full of his glory.
II. The effects of it upon him, relating
to his calling, from ver. 4 — 13, And the
posts of the door moved at the voice of Mm
that cried, and the house was filled with
smoke, &c.
In the vision, besides the circumstances
of time and place specified, ver. 1, we have
a glorious representation of the majesty of
God, ver. 2. A suitable acclamation, a
voice of praise being joined with it, ver. 3, 4.
The effects of it on the prophet towards his
calling are three, viz. I. His preparation ;
II. His mission ; III. His message. I.
The preparation, in these two particulars :
1 . Humiliation ; 2. Purification, ver. 6, 7 ?
a deep conviction, and then effectual removal
of pollution.
II. In his mission we have three things :
1. God's inquiry for a messenger, ver. 8,
former part. 2. The prophet's offer of him-
self, the latter part of verse 8. 3. God's
acceptance, ver. 9, former part,
III. His message, a heavy commination,
ver. 9 — 12, yet allayed with a gracious mi-
tigation, ver. 13. The judgment very last.
ing and wasting, yet a remnant reserved.
V ER. I. In the year that king Uzziah died, I saw
also the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and
lifted up, and the train filled the temple.
/ saw.] Observe the freedom of God in
tiis choice of men to be near him and know
him ; and in the measuring out the degrees
of discovery unto those men differently, some
had extraordinary revelations ; and though
prophetic visions now cease, yet there are
certainly higher and clearer coruscations of
God upon some souls than many others, that
yet are children of light, and partake of a
measure of that light shining within them ;
thus we are not carvers and choosers, and
therefore are not peremptorily to desire any
thing in kind or measure that is singular,
that were pride and folly ; but above all
things we are to esteem, and submissively
desire still more and more knowledge of God,
and humbly to wait and keep open the pas-
sage of light, not to close the windows, nor
to be indulgent to any known sin, or impure
affection, that will soon obstruct it : into a
filthy soul wisdom will not enter.
In the year that king Uzziah died, I saw
the Lord on his throne.~\ There is another
king named here, to denote the time by,
but he was diseased and a dying king, who
lived some years a leper, and then died.
Men may speak in a court style of vain
wishes, O King, live for ever : but this
King, here on the throne, is indeed the King
immortal, the ever living God.
God measures and proportions all his
means to their end. When he calls men to
high services, he furnishes them with suitable
preparations and enablements : thus here
with the prophet, he was to denounce heavy
things against his own nation, a proud
stubborn people, to deal boldly and freely
with the highest, yea, with the king himself,
chap. vii. and he is prepared by a vision
of God. What can a man fear after that ?
All regal majesty and pomp looks petty and
poor after that sight. Two kings together on
TEH. 2. 3.]
ISAIAH
826
their thrones in robes royal, (1 Kings xxii.)
did no whit astonish him that had seen a
greater ; / saw (says Micajah) the Lord
sitting on his throne, and all the hosts of
heaven ftanding by. Much like this is the
vision of Isaiah, here before us.
Eyes dazzled with the sun, see not the
glittering of drops of dew on the earth ; and
these are quickly gone with all their faint
and fading glory, to a soul taken with the
contemplation of God. How meanly do
they spend their days, that bestow them on
counting money, or courting little earthen
idols, in ambition or love. From how high
a stand doth he look down on those, that
looks on God, and admires his greatness,
wonders at what he sees, and still seeks after
more ; these two are therefore joined together,
Beholding the beauty of the Lord, and in-
quiring in his temple. Psal. xxvii. 4,
One thing have I desired of the Lord, that
will I seek after ; that I may dwell in the
house of the Lord all the days of my life,
to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to in-
quire in his temple.
VER. 2. Above it stood the seraphims: each one
had six wings; with twain he covered his face,
and with twain he covered hjs feet, and with twain
he did fly.
THESE glorious courtiers, flaming spirits,
are light and love, whose very feet are too
bright for us, as his face is too bright for
them, and they cry, Holy, holy, holy, thrice
holy, most holy three, one God, Lord of
hosts, the whole earth is full of his glory.
This they cry one to another, echoing it
and returning it incessantly ; they that praise
him most, come nearest their life. When
we are to pray, or offer any worship to the great
God thus on his throne above, and the diffusion
of his glory there, in the sanctuary, especial-
ly in solemn worship there, let us think of
his train filling the upper temple, and to
stoop low and fall down before him, (Holy,
holy, holy.) This is the main thing where-
in he is glorious, and we are to know and
adore him in this view, and abhor ourselves
as in his sight.
VER. 3. And one cried unto another, and saidt
• Holv, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts, the whole
earth is full of his glory.
The whole earth.] So many creatures
and various works and affairs, fruits, and
plants, and rich commodities, and so many
calamities and miseries, that kingdoms and
people are afflicted with, as by turns, and so
many disorders, and such wickedness of men
in public and private matters ; and yet in
all these varieties and contrarieties of things,
this one is the sum of all, and all taken up
in it, the whole earth is full of his glory,
in framing and upholding, in ruling and
ordering all, what a depth of power and
wisdom !
VER. 4. The posts of the door moved at the voice
of him that cried, and the house was filled with
smoke.
How true must that be, that at his voice
the earth quakes, and the mountains trem.
ble, when, at the voice of an angel, crying
or proclaiming his name, the very threshold
of the temple (the then holiest part of the
earth) moves : this in the vision was intend,
ed to represent the dreadfulness of his great
name, that vile men dare baffle in vain oaths,
and can speak thereof without sense : but
hearts that are indeed his living temples,
will find this resentment, when his name is
proclaimed, or when they mention or think
of it, the post will be moved with an awful
trembling.
And the house was filled with smoke.]
This was here a symbol of the presence and
majesty of God, (Psal. xcvii. 2, Clouds and
darkness are roundabout him, righteousness
and judgment are the habitations of his
throne,) not a signal of displeasure, as some
take it. He dwells in light that is inacceS'
sible, and round about is thick darkness,
shutting out the weak eyes of men, that
were not able to abide the brightness of his
glory : much of our knowledge here lies in
this, to know that we know him not ; and
much of our praise, to confess that we cannot
praise him ; silentium tibi laus, as they read
Psal. Ixv. 1.
VEK. 5. Then said I, Wo is me ! for I am undone ;
because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell
in the midst of a people of unclean lips ; for mine
eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts.
Then said /, Wo is me.] He is not
lifted up with the dignation, that he should
be honoured with such a vision of God ;
but, on the contrary, struck with humble
holy fear, Oh ! / am undone ! This is
much of the exercise of souls admitted near-
est to God, even this astonishment and ad-
miration, that such as they should be regard-
ed and raised to that height, and holy fear
in a sense of their unholiness. When the
blessed virgin heard a voice very much to her
own advantage, (Luke i. 28, 2f), And the
angel came in unto her, and said, Hail,
thou art highly favoured, the Lord is with
thee : blessed art thou among women.
And when she saw him, she was troubled
at his saying, and cast in her mind what
manner of salutation this should be,) instead
of rising in her own conceit upon it, she
was troubled, and marvelled what manner
of salutation this should be, and was struck
with fear ; so that the angel found it needful
to say, fear not.
Illusions and deceits of spirit of this kind
cannot be better differenced from true mani-
festations of God, than by this, that they
may breed priue and presumption in the
heart, make it vain and haughty ; but true
senses, and joys, and discoveries of love, i»
J26
EXPOSITORY LECTURES
[LECT. n.
what kind soever, do most powerfully humble.
Is est, qui superbire non potest, cui Deus
ostendit misericordiam suam. Aug.
Then said I, Wo is me ! for I am un-
done ; because I am a man of unclean
lips.} The mother and nurse of pride is
ignorance of God. A small glance of him
will make the best of men abhor themselves,
and still the nearer sight of him, the lower
conceit will there be of self, and the deeper
sense of impurity and vileness ; this tells us,
though we hear and speak of God, alas ! we
know him not.
/ am a man of polluted lips.] He men-
tions this the rather, because he heard that
song which he would have joined, but durst
not, because of polluted lips : thus we must
confess we are poUuted all over ; but much
of our pollution breaks out by the lips, yet
commonly we think not on it.
/ am undone.] We could not indeed bear
much, not see God and live; therefore he
veils himself; but sure we might see much
more than we do, and live the better for it,
the more humbly and holily. Our pollu-
tions hinder and unfit us, as he implies, when
he says, a man of polluted lips : but oh !
that we saw so much of him as to see this
pollution, that makes us so unworthy, and
BO unfit to see him.
He first cries, / am a man of polluted
lips, and then adds, / dwell in the midst of
a people of unclean lips.] This is the true
method ; there can be no right sense of pol-
lutions about us, but that which begins with
a sense of those within us. Few men reflect
much on themselves, or if they do, they view
themselves by a false light.
Polluted lips.] This he says in regard of
the voicehe heard; and with regard to the much
irreverence with which we mention God, both
ministers and people, as also much of all our
heart pollutions, .have their vent this way ; so
the promise of sanctifying his people runs
much on this, Zeph. iii. 8, and 12. They
of a pure lip shall offer ; all are of the holy
order, a royal priesthood, and through sanc-
tified lips, as the censer, still they offer
incense of prayer and praise. He is A per-
fect man that offends not in word, James
iii. 2.
Commonly by much speaking there is
much pollution ; in many words there wants
not sin, Prov. x. 19 ; therefore, let your
speech be always seasoned with salt, Col.
iv. 6. Now, many speeches need much salt,
otherwise some part will be rotten, at least
unsavoury ; much of the sin of the land con-
sists in this ; there are few companies where
God is not dishonoured and provoked by their
communication ; and till this be laid to heart,
judgment will multiply, and grow instead of
decreasing. Few, even of these that fear
the Lord, speak often one to another, in a
tl-rain that God delights, not only to heark-
en to, but to write down, and register for
their good.
And dwell amidst a people of unclean
lips. ] We infect each other when we meet :
little converse that a man returns the bettei
by, yea, by the most is the worse ; he brings
back often more pollution, more folly and
vanity, by most companies and discourses ;
but we see here, that impurity humbly ac-
knowledged is graciously removed.
LECTURE II.
On Ver. 6-9.
VER. 6. Then flew one of the Seraphims unto me,
having a live coal in his hand, which he had taken
with the tongs from off the altar.
IMPUKITY well discovered to a man is
half cured ; whensoever God graciously shows
a man his own unsanctifiedness, there he
goes on to cleanse and sanctify him ; the
light that discovers is followed with a burn-
ing coal that purges away.
The Holy Spirit is that purifying fire, a
touch of it cleanseth the hearts and lips, and
all, and kindles that affection in the soul that
cannot die out, that not many, that no water*
can quench again. It doth this to all that
are sanctified, but eminently it doth it, (or
at least they desire it may) to those that are
to be the instruments of enlightening, purg-
ing, and kindling others : so in the resem-
blance of fiery tongues, came down this
Spirit on the Apostles, and thence they them-
selves were as burning coal scattered through
the nations, blest incendiaries of the world,
setting it on fire with the love of Christ, tan-
quam ligna ardentia dispersa. Aug.
VER. 7- And he laid it upon my mouth, and said,
Lo, this hath touched thy lips, and thine iniquity
is taken away, and thy sin is purged.
Thine iniquity is taken away.] How im-
pure soever before. This free grace is won-
derful, to make some that have been notori-
ously unclean, by the change wrought by
this fire, the touch of a coal, to become emi-
nently gracious, and messengers of grace to
others, carrying this and spreading it. They,
though originally of dark clay, are by this
fire made transparent glass, through which
the light of the gospel shines into the Church.
This coal taken from the altar, may de.
note the deriving of the Spirit from Jesus
Christ, our Priest, Altar, Sacrifice, and all,
by which we are purged and made fit for hi*
service ; he is the fountain of light, and life
and purity, and all grace to his messengers
and all his followers. His grace is indeed a
live coal, where heavenly heat is mixed with
earth, the fulness of the Godhead with our
. 7-1
ON ISAIAH VI.
327
nature in human flesh : thence we draw near,
and especially they that bear his name to
men, in a sense of their own impurity, in-
treat his touch, as devout Bernard, and in
a holy hyperbole, " Had the Prophet need
of a coal ? Oh then grant for me a whole
globe of fire, to purge away my filihiness,
and make me a fit messenger to this people !"
Thy sin is purged. ] The children of God
are a wonder to themselves, when that Spirit
comes in that conquers and purges so sud-
denly and easily what they before groan
under, and wrestle with very long to little or
no purpose. It is a change of the right
hand of the Most High, as the Latin reads
that word in Psal. Ixxvii. 10, / said, This
is my infirmity, but I will remember the
years of the right hand of the Most High ;
mulatto dextra Excelsi : a touch of that
will cleanse and heal ; the all purifying
virtue of his Spirit, whereof this baptism of
the Prophet's lips was a symbol, takes away
the dross, which by other means than that
fire cannot be purged : so in metals much
pains may be taken, and strength of hand
used with little effect, at most that does but
scratch the superfices, makes the outside a
little bright and shining, but severs not the
dross from within ; that cannot be done with-
out fire. Have we not found how vainly we
attempt, while God withholds his hands ?
yea, while a man fancies self-pureness, he is
the more impure, as Job ix. 30, 31, ///
wash myself with snow water, and make
myself ever so clean, yet shall thou plunge
me in the ditch, and mine, own clothes shall
abhor me : therefore prayer is the great re-
source of a soul under a sense of uncleanness,
begging a new creation ; so it is indeed ;
Create in me a clean heart, O God, ana
renew a right spirit within me, Psalm li.
10 ; following God with this suit, and re-
solving to follow him till he grant it ; for we
well know he is able, and may say, Lord, if
thon wilt, thou canst make me clean.
This fire hath two effects ; it works purity
and activity, it takes away sin, and puts in
spirit and life for obedience ; and so here,
thy sin is purged ; and then, says he, Here
I am ; send me : and the former is effec-
tual towards the latter ; the more the soul is
cleansed, the more alive and able it is made
for service. The purging out of those sickly
humours makes it more vigorous and able
whereas they abounding, clog the spirits, anc
make the vital operations heavy and weak.
A. soul well cleansed from the love of sin
and the world, and self, is a healthful tem-
per, and goes nimbly to any work ; o^
discouragements and difficulties are then no-
thing : a feverish distemper within, hinders
and makes one lazy and unwieldy, unwilling
and unable to labour ; but that well purget
and cured, he cares less for the hot weather
without ; strength of nature endures tha;
more easily. Oh ! how sweet to be thu«
acted by love ! pure intention and desire of
doing God service, and bringing him in
glory ! Other motives, or the mixtures of
them, are base ; and though God may make
use sometimes of such, yet he sees within,
and knows what sjzag makes the wheels go,
and he gives them their reward here, some-
what possibly of that they seek, (success, and
credit, and a name,) but the after reward of
faithful servants they need not look for in that
work ; for they receive their reward, and can
they expect more ? Many an Here am /,
comes from other incentives than an altar
coal : and so they may burn and shine a
while, but they soon consume and die out in
a snuff; the heavenly altar fire alone keeps
in, and returns to heaven where it was kin-
dled.
There is many a hot furious march under
the semblance and name of zeal for God, that
loves to be seen, as Jehu, 2 Kings x. 1(5,
Come with me, and see my zeal for the Lord.
Such persons may flatter themselves into that
conceit in the heat of action, to think it is
for God, while he sees through it, and judges
it as it is, zeal for self and their own interest ;
and he gives them accordingly some hireling
journeyman's wages, and then turns them
off. But Oh ! where the heart is purely
acted by a desire of this glory, and seeks no-
thing else ; for such remains that blessed
word, Well done, good and faithful servant)
enter into thy Master's joy.
This, then, is to be sought for by minis-
ters and eminent servants in public affairs,
yea, by all that offer any service to God, a
readiness from love ; something of this there
is in all that are truly his, though held down
in many, and almost smothered, with rub-
bish ; and in these there is some mixture of
flesh drawing back, The Spirit is ready,
but theftesh is weak, and a load to it, hin-
dering its working ; and this strife is often
found as a horse to an unskilful rider, at
once pricked with the spur, and checked with
the bridle : but where this spirit of love is,
it doth prevail, and wastes that opposition
daily, and groweth in strength, more quick
and ready, more freed from self, and acted
by the will of God; attaining somewhat
further in that conformity with heaven, where
shall be no will striving but His alone, where
those glorious bright spirits stand ready for
all commands, that excel in strength, and
employ it all to do his commandments, Psal.
ciii. 20 ; and the more like them we be here,
the more lively hope have we to be shortly
with them, and to be wholly as they are.
VER. 8. Also I heard the voice of the Lord, saying,
Whom shall I send, and who will go for us? Thei
said I, Here am I ; send me.
THIS inquiry imports not a doubtful de.
liberation in God, but a purpose to send.
328
EXPOSITORY LECTURES
[LECT. lit.
He is represented as a king, advising with
himself or council ; and this is by some con-
ceived as an intimation of the mystery of the
Trinity, as Gen. i. 26 ; And God said, Let
us make man in our own image. Whom
shall I send, and who will go for us ? But
were there not ready millions of these wing-
ed messengers ; what need then such a word ?
True, angels were ready, but a man was
sought ; God, vouchsafing to send an em-
bassy to men, will send one that might speak
their language to them, and might stay and
treat with them in a fami'iar friendly way,
(an ambassador in ordinary to lie still and
treat with them ;) and in this condescension
much wisdom and love appears ; he will take
men subject to the like infirmities and pol-
lutions with the people, as the Prophet here
acknowledges, but one purged from these
pollutions, made holy, though not perfectly,
yet eminently holy. This is very suitable,
were not men invincibly obstinate, more suit-
able than that God should send by angels,
that one of themselves should come and deal
with men for God, and bear witness of this
graciousness and readiness to forgive, so as
to give himself for an instance of it, and say,
" I have found him so." And they being
changed and sanctified, show really that the
thing may be- done ; that it is feasible to
(sanctify a sinner ; and so sinful men appear
to be fitter for this service than embodied
angels.
I said, Here ami; send me.] What
a blessed change on Paul cast to the ground !
his own will was broke all to pieces, and now
he is only for His service, whose name he so
hated, and persecuted his servants ; Lord,
what wilt thou have me to do ? Acts ix.
6 ; these are the very words and characters
of a true convert, and thus the soul turned
to Christ may in some cases doubt what is
his will, but that once resolved, there is no
deliberation whatever to do it or not. He
says not, if the service be honourable or pro-
fitable, that is, carrying worldly credit or
profit in it, then will I do it ; no, but what-
ever it is, if it be thine, and thou appoint
me to it, here am I ; and this makes the
meanest work of this station excellent.
Then said I, here am I.] A strange
change in the Prophet, even now an undone
nan, and here presently a ready messenger,
and so turned an angel. Something of this
most find that are truly called to this high
work of delivering messages from God ;
sometimes a sense of pollution benumbs and
strikes them dead, and anon again they feel the
flame of love kindled with that coal, quicken,
ing them to such a readiness, and such free
offers of themselves to service, as to those
that understand not the reason of it, would
seem presumptuous forwardness ; and there
may be in some minds, at one and the same
time, a strange mixture and counterworking
of these two together ; a sense of unfitness
and unworthiness drawing back, and yet the
strength of love driving forward, thinking
thus, " How can I, who am so filthy, so vile,
speak of God ? yet he hath shown mp mercy,
how then can I be silent ?"
Send me. ] Moses' reluctance, this same
Prophet would have vented too before the
touch of the coal, while he said, Wo is me,
I am undone, or struck down, as the word
may signify, cannot speak with such unholy
lips of so holy a God. Isaiah cries out
of polluted lips, as Moses complained of
stammering lips ; and this is fit to precede,
first a sense of extreme inability and indig-
nity, and then upon a change and call,
ready obedience. A man once undone and
dead, and then recovered, is the only fit mes-
senger for God ; in such an one love over-
comes all difficulties without and within, and
in this work no constraint is he feeling but
that of love, and where that is, no other will
be needed ; the sweet all-powerful constraint
of love will send thee all-cheerful, though it
were through the fire or water : no water
can quench it, nor fire outburn it ; it burns
hotter than any other kindled against it ;
after the touch of that coal, no forbearing,
(Jer. xx. 9, But this word was in my heart
as a burning fire, shut up in my bones,
and I 'was weary with forbearing, I could
not stay. 1 Pet. v. 2, Feed the flock of
God which is among you, taking the over-
sight thereof, not by constraint, but willing-
ly ; not for filthy lucre, but of a ready
mind.) Yet he says, send me ; though he
had so ardent a desire and readiness to go,
yet he will not go unsent, but humbly offers
himself, and waits both for his commission
and instructions ; and how awful are they !
LECTURE III.
VER. 9. And he said, Go and tell this people, Hear
ye indeed, but understand not; and see ye indeed,
but perceive not
VER. 10. Make the heart of this people fat, and
make their ears heavy, and shut their eyes ; lest
they see with their eyes, and hear with their ears,
and understand with their heart, and convert, and
be healed.
His message you see is most sad, and so
he is put to it, put to the trial of his obe-
dience, as men usually are according to the
degree of their fitness. Nothing is more
sweet to a messenger, than to have good
news to carry. Oh ! it is a blessed sweet
thing to convert souls ! But, how heavy to
harden them by preaching ! Yet thus it is
to many, at some times, and almost general,
ly to all ; certainly before this much had
been heard and despised ; they had been
hardening their own hearts, and now they
shall have enough of it ; their very sin shall
VER. 9, 10.]
ON ISAIAH VI.
389
be their plague, a plague of all others the account. We ought rather to tremble be-
most terrible ; yet, as was said above, there fore him ; he doth no iniquity ; and we
are times of the height of this plague, as of j
others, and this was one of those times of
its raging mortality. The Prophet did no-
thing but preach, and yet they were stupified
by it ; and indeed wherever the word does
not soften and quicken, it hardens and kills ;
and the more lively the ministry of the word
is where it works this effect, the more deep-
ly doth it work it.
This was verified on the Jews ; though
then God's own pe'ople, yet it was verified
on them to the utmost ; and this context is
often cited against them in the New Testa-
ment, no place so often. So excellent
preacher us Isaiah, and so well reputed
amongst his people, yet was sent to preach
them blind, and deaf, and dead ; and this
same does the gospel to most of many a
congregation in Scotland : and the more of
Christ that is spoken, the more are unbe.
lievers hardened. Isaiah, the most evange-
lical of all the Prophets, was yet brought to
that, Who halh believed our report ? Yea,
this WPS fulfilled in the preaching of Christ
himself; as the hotter the sun, the more is
the clay hardened.
Go tell this people.] Observe the mighty
power of the word, to whatsoever it is sent ;
as it is wonderfully efficacious for softening,
melting, reducing to God ; so, if it be sen
to harden, to seal to judgment, to bring in
and hasten it; and therefore spoke of, as
effecting the things it speaks ; as in Jer. i
10, " See, I have this day set thee over the
nations, and over the kingdoms, to root out
and to pull down, and to destroy, and tc
throw down, to build and to plant :" Ezek
xliii. 3, " And it was according to the ap
pearance of the vision, which I saw when
came to destroy the city :" Hosea vi. 5
" Therefore have I hewed them by the pro
phets ; I have slain them by the words of m;
mouth." Therefore despise it not, spiritua
judgments are the heaviest of all ; thougl
least felt for a time, yet they stick closest
and prove saddest in the end : the not feslinj
is a great part of the plague ; in this is th
nature and malignity of the disease, that i
takes away the sight and sense of othe
things, and of itself. The plague is a dis
ease seizing on the spirits, and therefore
so dangerous ; but this only seizes on th
spirit of the mind ; and is any thing
dreadful ? Oh ! any plague but that of th
heart. People think it a good thing not t
feel the word, not to be troubled : well, a
they love this, they are filled with it, an
shall have enough of it : so in self-love, su
timator 4«it dat. God is righteous and put
in this : there are many vain cavils about hi
working on the heart to harden, which aris
from an ignorant, low conceit of God, as o
a dependent being, or tied to laws, or to giv
lall be forced to confess it. Many ways
" his are obscure, but none are unjust,
''ind we not this people sit under the sound,
nd are many of them as if absent, as if they
ad never heard such things spoke of? so
grossly ignorant of all these ; hearing hear,
ut understand not : others are yet worse ;
icy get a kind of knowledge, but it is dead,
nd works nothing : these see, and yet pcr-
eive not, and know not even what they
now ; most are of this sort, and they are of
11 others the worst to convince. When they
re told of Christ, and forgiveness of sins,
nd are entreated to believe these mysteries,
hey cry out, Oh ! we do, we know them,
nd can answer, if you ask us, what these
[octrines are. But the heart is not changed,
10 sin is forsaken, no study of holiness, no
lame of love. This not perceiving is the
jreat judgment of this land, this the great
cause of lamentation, that Christ is so much
known, and yet so little : people do not think
whither it tends, and what the importance or
his message is; they hear it as a passing
ate, or, at the best, as for the present, a
>leasing sound, a lovely song, Ezek. xxxiii.
32 ; and if by an able minister, sung by a good
voice, but no impression is made, it dies out
n the air, it enters not into their hearts to
quicken them, and so their evil is the more
deadly ! Oh ! bemoan this, beg the removal
of it above all judgments, and the sending
forth of that Spirit, that causes the mountains
tojloto down, Isa. Ixiv. 1. Many of you, my
brethren, may be under somewhat of this, as
there are divers degrees of it, ere it come to
be incurable : Oh ! pray to be delivered,
lest it grow so far that it be in vain to bid
you do so. Better to be cast into extreme
terrors for a time, than to continue thus;
better to fall into a fever than into this le-
thargy, which makes you sleep to death.
Convert, and be healed. ] These two go
together ; all miseries are healed, and grace
and favour flow forth, when once the soul is
stirred up to seek after God, and turn in to
him ; other courses of healing public or pri-
vate evils, are but mountebank cures, that
vex and torment, as unapt physic does, and
do no good, yea, make things worse than be-
fore ; Hosea v. 13, When Ephraim saw
his sickness, and Judah his wound ; then
went Ephraim to the Assyrian, and sent
to King Jareb, yet could he not heal you,
nor cure you of your wound ; compared with
chap. vi. ver. 1, Come and let us return
unto the Lord, for he hath torn, and he
will heal us ; he hath smitten, and he will
bind us up.
There is much in a custom of fruitless
hearing to stupify and make hard ; to make
men sermon-proof; and the hearing of the
most excellent, hardens most, both agaiust
S30
EXPOSITORY LECTURES
[LECT. in.
them, and against all others that are their in- as the Apostle's word is ; and we see, in our
feriors; for, being accustomed to hear the j particular straits that were greatest, that the
most moving strains, unmoved, makes them Lord hath made them short even beyond our
ecorn, and easily beat back, that which is less expectation ; and what remains is in his
pressing. A largely endued, and very spiritual j hand. I trust he will hasten the defeat of
minister, is either one of the highestblessings, the plots, and power of his enemies; and
or heaviest curses, that can come upon a people, doubt not all the late and present commo-
Hearing hear.} This even the minis- tions of these poor kingdoms, are the birth
ters themselves may fall under : speakers may pangs of a happy deliverance and peace ; and,
have no ears ; as the Italians say of preach-
ers, they do not hear their own voice : they
may grow hard, by custom of speaking of
divine things, without divine affection ; so
that nothing themselves, or others, say, can
work on them : hence it is that so few formal,
dead ministers are converted, that one said,
rare vidi clericum pcenitentem ; so hardened
are they against the means of conviction, in
which they have been so long conversant, and
not converted by them. They have been
speaking so often of Heaven and Hell, and of
Jesus Christ, and feeling nothing of them,
that the words have lost their power, and they
are grown hard as the skin of leviathan, es-
teeming iron as straw, and brass as rotten
wood. And this, by the way, beside that
God's dispensation is so fixed, maybe a rea-
son why that sin, mentioned in the sixth of
the Hebrews, is unpardonable : it is, in the
nature of things, and without such a miracle
as God will not exert, impossible, that they,
who have stood out such things in vain,
should be renewed: this should make us,
that are ministers especially, to tremble at
an unholy life, or at the thought of declining
from those ways of religion, of which we have
known so much, and for which we have so
many means of improvement.
VER. 11. Then said I, Lord, how long? And he
answered, Until the cities be wasted without in-
habitants, and the houses without man, and the
land be utterly desolate:
VER. 12. And the Lord hath removed men far
away, and there be a great forsaking in the midst
of the land.
Now this judgment, fastening, was sure to
draw on all other judgments ; therefore the
Prophet, touched with compassion, inquires,
How long ? and receives a very sad answer,
Until the cities be wasted. God is sove-
reignly free in this ; but usually he keeps
that course, that long continued and spared
sinning makes long continued calamities when
they come : judgments, as the ancients
thought comets to be, are as lasting as the
matter is they are kindled with ; and, truly,
upon this account, we may justly apprehend
that our troubles are but just beginning, ra-
ther than near their end ; yet repentance
might prevail for the shortening them ; these
sweet showers soonest lay the stormy winds.
And this consideration may have some-
thing hopeful in it, that in these latter times,
kind of
as the
when they grow thickest, it is nearest the birth.
How long ? ] Observe the compassion of
the messengers of God, riot desiring the evil
day, but mourning for it, pitying those they
denounce judgment against, and melting for
those they harden.
Till the cities be wasted.} This inti-
mates there would be no relenting under all
these judgments, but that these, 'as well as
the word, and together with it, would har-
den them more, till they were almost quite
consumed ; and this usual ; men think it
would be otherwise ; but it is found, times of
great plagues and 'judgments are no times
of great conversion ; but men are more har-
dened both against word and rod ; their
spirits grow stiff and obdured in a
desperation ; but mercy, coming
spring sunshine, mollifies and dissolves, and
makes fruitful : therefore, such a day is to be
longed for. I suspect we shall not see much
done by the gospel till then : and before that,
we may suffer yet more dismal things, and be
wasted with pestilence, sword, and famine ;
yet there is comfort in this, the Lord will
not make a full end of us ; a tenth shall be
left ; and if not we, yet at least our posterity,
shall reap the sweet fruits of our bitter cala-
mities, that are the just fruits of our iniquities.
VER. 13. But yet In it shall be a tenth, and it
shall return, and shall be eaten ; as a teil-tree, ami
as an oak, whose substance is in them when they
cast their leaves, so the holy seed shall be the sub-
stance thereof.
THERE is still a remnant holy to God, the
preservers of a land from utter ruin. Pro-
fane persons despise the children of God, and
know not that they are beholden to them for
the subsistence of the land, and of the world ;
they are as those oaks whose roots did bear
up the earth of that highway, that went be-
tween the king's house and the temple, as the
resemblance is taken by some. '
In judgments, the Lord remembers that ;
Destroy it not, there is a blessing in it.
As for the personal condition of believers,
there may be a great decay ; a winter visage
may be upon it ; but yet the holy seed abid-
eth in them, and is their stability ; and
still that word is true that is borrowed hence,
semen sanctum, statumen terras ; " the
holy seed, the subsistence or establishment
of the earth." When their number is com-
pleted, time shall end, and this visible world
things move something more speedily, as na- j shall be set on fire ; and this day is hastening
tural motions do towards their end ; for a forward, though most of us think but little,
short work will God mike upon the earth, |if at all, of it.
EXPOSITORY LECTURE
OK
ROMANS XTI. 3—12.
VKR. 3. For I say, through the grace'given unto
me, to every r^an that is among you, not to
think of himself more highly than he ought to
think ; but to think soberly, according as God
hath dealt to every man the measure of faith.
BESIDES the common word of edification
implying it, we find often, in the Scriptures,
teaching compared to building ; and, a-
mongst other things, the resemblance holds
in this, that in both, of necessity, there is a
foundation first to be laid, and then the
structure to be raised upon it. He that gives
rules of life, without h.. t fixing principles of
faith, offers preposterously at building
house without laying a foundation ; and he
that instructs what to believe, and directs
not withal a believer how to live, doth in
vain lay a foundation, without following out
the building ; but the Apostles were not so
*oolish builders, as to sever these .wo in
their labours in the church. In this epistl
we find our Apostle excellently acquitting
himself in both these. He first largely and
firmly lays the ground -work, in the foregoing
part of the epistle, now he adds exhortations
and directions touching the particular duties
of Christians.
The first thing, certainly, to be done with
a soul is to convince it of sin and death, then
to address and lead it into Christ, our
righteousness and life : this done, it shoult
be taught to follow him : this is Christianity
to live in Christ, and to live to Christ ; to
live in him by faith, and to live to him in
holiness ; these our Apostle joined in hi
doctrine, chap. viii. 1, There is therefor,
now no condemnation to them which are i?
Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh
but after the Spirit.
The exhortation, that begins this chap
ter, hath in it the whole sum of Christian
bedience, fitly expressed, and strongly urg«
d ; and in that are all particular rules com-
irised.
But because of our ignorance and our
loth, we do not always readily draw forth
iarticulars from these comprehensive general
rules wherein they lie : we need therefore to
>e assisted in this ; and to this the Scriptures
lescend, particularly the Apostles, in their
pistles, and that usually in the latter part
of them ; and this is a main part of our duty
n preaching the word, often to represent
hese rules to you, not so much that you may
understand them better, though somewhat
of this likewise may be needful as that you
may remember them, and eye them more,
and walk according to them ; and there is no
more in these things truly known, than what
is known after this manner. I have endea-
voured, in the course of my teaching, to
reach this end ; my design, and I hope yours
ikewise, hath been, not to pass so much time,
nor to pass it with empty delight, which in
other things might be done at an easy rate,
but that you be really built up heavenwards,
and increase with the increase of God; that the
truth and power of Christianity may possess
ourhearts, and grow there, and maybe evident
in our lives, to the glory of our Lord Jesus.
We shall endeavour to lay before you the
particular graces that are the ornaments of
Christians ; and this, not that you may look
on them simply, and commend them, but
may pursue them, and be clothed with them,
and then they will be much more comely and
commendable ; as a robe of rich apparel, if it
seem fine while it hangs or lies by, it appears
far better when it is put on.
The rules the Apostle is to give, he pre-
faces thus, For I say, through the grace
332
EXPOSITORY LECTURES
[VER. 3.
given to me, I speak as the Messenger or
Apostle of Christ, according to that know-
ledge and experience that he hath given me
of these things ; and so take it, as from one
that hath some interest in, and share of, these
graces I recornmend to you : and this, indeed,
makes recommendations carry home. Oh !
that we could truly say this. Alas ! it is an
uncomfortable, and commonly an unprofita-
ble thing to speak of Christ, and the graces
of his Spirit, only as having heard of them,
or read of them, as men that travel, in their
studies, do of foreign countries.
A;a ns ^aairas. The Apostle represents
this, to add \he more authority, and gain
the more acceptance, to what he had to say :
and for this end, some care is to be had of
the good opinion of people, so far as their
interest is concerned, that the message we
bring be not prejudged ; otherwise, this
truly set aside, it were little matter how we
were mistaken or despised : yea, it were a
thing some way desirable : only provide
nothing be done on purpose, that may just
ly, yea, or that may probably, procure it : fo
that both piety and charity forbid.
To every man.] This is more pressin
than if he had said simply, to you, or gene
ralty, to you all ; for in men's talking o
things it proves often too true, quod omnibus
nemini : but to every one, that each on
suppose it spoke to him, as an ingeniou
picture, looking to each in the room. Thu
we ought to speak, and thus we ought t
hear. We to speak, not as telling som
unconcerning stories, but as having busines
with you ; and you to hear, not each for an-
other, as you often do, " Oh ! such a pas-
sage touched such an one," but each for
ourselves.
The first particular the Apostle recom-
f our thoughts and practices to our measure
nd station ; to know ourselves truly and
horoughly ; for that will certainly beget a
ery low esteem of ourselves, to judge our-
elves the unworthiest and meanest of all.
And having truly this estimate of our.
elves, we shall not vainly attempt any thing
ibove our reach, nor disdainfully neglect any
hing that is within the compass of our call-
ng and duty, which are the two evils so com-
mon among men, yea, even amongst Chris,
tians, and in the Church of God, and are
the cause of most of the enormities and dis-
orders that fall out in it ; it is a strange
blindness, that they that do grossly miscarry
inthe duties of their own station, yet so readily
fancy themselves capable of somewhat high,
er, and think themselves wronged if it be
refused them.
The self-knowing Christian would rather
descend, and find himself very dispropor-
tioned to the present station, be it never so
mean ; he can say with David, Lord, my
heart is not haughty, nor mine eyes lofty ;
neither do / exercise myself in great
matters, or in things too hitjh for me, Psal.
cxxxi. 1. But vain minds would still be
tampering with the greatest affairs, and dwell
not with themselves. Oh ! my brethren, be
entreated to study your hearts better, be less
abroad in things that concern you not ; there
is work enough within you ; heaps of base
lusts, and self-deceits, and follies that you
see not yet ; and many advantages of good
things you seem to see in yourselves, that
indeed are not there : self-love is a flattering
glass, which represents us to ourselves much
fairer than we are ; therefore, turn from it,
if you desire a true account of yourselves,
and look into the pure and faithful mirror of
God's law. Oh ! what deformities will that
mends is, that gracing grace of humility, the
ornament and the safety of all other graces,
and what is so peculiarly Christian. Some-
what philosophers speak of temperance, jus-
tice, and other like virtues, but these rather
to blow up and swell the mind with big con-
ceit and confidence of itself, than to dwell
together with self-abasement and humility :
but in the school of Christ, the first lesson
of all is, self-denial and humility ; yea, it
is written above the door, as the rule of entry
or admission, Learn, of me, for / am meek
and lowly of heart, Matth. xi. 29. And
out of all question, that is truly the humblest
heart that hath most of Christ in it.
Not to think highly. ] Not aspiring and
intending in things too high : and a great
point of humility is subjection to God in
the point of knowledge : in this was our first
climbing that proved our fall : and yet still,
amidst all our ignorance and darkness, we
are catching and gaping after the deadly fruit
of unallowed knowledge.
This, withal, hath in it the attempering'
discover, that you never saw nor thought of
before, and will make you the lowest of all
persons in your own eyes.
The low self-esteem doth not wholly take
away the simple knowledge of what gifts and
graces God hath bestowed on a man ; for
that were to make him both unthankful and
unuseful. He that doth not know what
God hath freely^ given him, cannot return
praise to God, nor make use of himself for
God in his station ;* yea, the Apostle's
caution intimates a sober, humble reflection
on the measure God hath given a man, which
he not only allows but requires : and him-
self gives example of it in his own present
expression, declaring, that he speaks these
things through the grace that is given to
him.
But this knowledge of a man's own gifts
and graces, that it may not prejudge him of
more, but help him to more, in the humble
acknowledgment and use of what he hath,
would have these two qualifications : 1. That
* Qui se nescit, nescit sc utl.
TEE. 3.]
ON ROMANS XII.
333
he beware of over-weening, rather that he
take his measure much below, than any whit
beyond, what he truly hath. 2. That what-
soever it is, that he always look on it r.ot as
his own, but as God's, having his superscrip-
tion on it, and all the glory of if being his
peculiar tribute ; nothing of that to be inter-
rupted cr retained : Not unto us, Lord ;
not unto us, but unto thy name give glory,
Psal. cxv. 1, still all the glory entirely senl
up to him ; thus, here, the Apostle sets al]
grace in that view, as God hath dispensed
the measure ; and so speaks of his own
through the grace given to me ; still so to
be looked on, not as that we have, but that
he hath given ; that is the gospel style ; grace,
free gifts, •£<*•% '(•• x^y/Mtv* ; whereas philo-
sophy speaks of all as habits, or havings, or
possessions.
Now, in that relative, dependent notion
of freely given, a man shall never be puffed
up by any endowments, though he see and
know them ; yea, the more he knows them
thus, will be the more humble still, as being
the more obliged. The more he hath re-
ceived, the greater they are ; the lower he
hows, pressed down under the weight of his
engagements to God ; as Abraham, Gen.
xvii. 3, fell on his face, when God talked
with him, and made so rich promises to
him. See David's strain, 1 Chron. xxix.
14, But who am /, and what is my people,
that we should be able to offer so willingly
ufter this sort ? for all things come of thee,
and of thine own have we given thee. Thus,
the Apostle gives, as the sovereign preven-
tive against the swelling poison of self-con-
ceit, IVhat hast thou that thou didst not
receive ? I Cor. iv. 7-
He that is thus regulated in his own es-
teem, will by this certainly be moderated in
his desire of esteem from others, and cannot
well meet with any thing that way, that
will either puff him up, or cast him down ;
if over-prized by others, he takes that as
their mistake ; if undervalued, he rejoices
in that, having set himself so low in himself,
that others cannot well set him lower ; so
when men account meanly cf him, they are
really of his own opinion ; and you know
that offends none, but pleases them rather,
to have others agree with their opinions, and
be of their mind.
They that are busy after reputation, and
•would be esteemed, are but begging voices ;
would have others think with them, and con-
firm the conclusion they have already resolv-
ed on, in favour of themselves ; and this is
a most foolish thing, for disappointed in
this, men are discontented, and so their
peace hangs on others' fancies ; and if satis,
fied with it, they surfeit and undo themselves
with the delight of it. Bees sometimes kill
themselves with their own honey ; and there
is such a word to this purpose, Prov. xxv.
27, // is not good to eat much honey ; so for
men to search their own glory, is not glory.
V^A 4> 5- * Fff M w£ hale many members in one
body, and all members have not the same office-
so we, being many, are but one body in Christ
and every one members one of another.
IK this consideration we have God's wis-
dom manifested, and are instructed what is
our wisdom. He, in the great world, made
all in weight, number, and measure ; so in
the lesser world, man, and in the new world
his Church, he proportions all to the use he
hath designed them for. He could give
more to them that have least, than the very
greatest have, but he thought this unfit ; it
might be some advantage to them, yet to the
whole body not so ; and therefore not truly so
to them neither, being parts of it, and having
their good involved in the good of the body.
This resemblance is often used in Scrip-
ture, and holds excellently well, but is little
learned. Our temper and carriage correspond
not to it. Who is there almost that finds it,
the Spirit of Christ in them, knitting them
to him as the common head, and one to an-
other, as one in him, each busy to advance
him, and to seek his glory, and to promote
the good of one another ? But alas ! rather
each for self, accursed self, as of an indepen-
dent divided substance ; yea, worse, hating
and tearing one another ; a monstrous sight,
as if one limb of the same body should be
pulling another to pieces. It signifies little
to tell men what mutual tenderness is in
nature ; that for a thorn in the foot the back
bows, the head stoops, the eyes look, the
hands feel, and seek it, and pull it out."
Christians are still so rigid, so unchristian to
each other, they drive one another with the
thorn sticking in, forcing their brethren to
ways against the persuasions of their con-
sciences.
In the following verses, viz. 6, 7> 8, we
have a specification of divers offices, and the
duties of them ; the due observance of which
is the peace and growth of the Church, makes
all go on sweetly and fruitfully : but men
are either presumptuously or preposterously
busy out of their own station, or slothfully
negligent in it ; and both these, instead of
edifying, are discomposing and destroying
things.
Not to insist on the distinction of offices,
it is evident, in all enumerations of this kind,
the same word sometimes means divers things,
and divers words the same thing, as ministry
may comprise all, though sometimes peculiar
to deacons, sometimes taken for teachers or
pastors : here it is general, and the particulars
following distribute it ; some are to teach,
which is doctorial; some to exhort, which
is more pastoral ; some are to give, which is
proper to deacons ; some have their whole
* Spinam calcat pes, Sec. Aoft
334
EXPOSITORY LECTURE
[VER. 9-.
charge to rule, as elders : some are particu-
larly for attendance on the sick.
But in all, fidelity and sedulity are requi-
site : how high soever men are placed, il
they are unfaithful, the higher judgment
awaits them ; how low soever, if thou be
sincere and studious of thy duty, thou shall
sustain no loss by thy low station, but rather
thy faithfulness will be the more set off by
it ; he that is faithful in little shall be made
ruler over much. Oh ! that WE were more
eat up with zeal of our Lord's House, and
winning of souls, when he deputes to that.
Oh ! that they that rule, would study more
rule of their own houses, that shall go before,
and your own hearts, that should be first of
all. Alas ! how shall men, whose passions
and lusts rule them, well rule the house of
God ? Be afraid and wise, ye that are called
to that, and know at length what is so gener-
ally either unknown or unconsidered, the ex-
emplary holiness required in your persons,
and the diligent watchfulness over the flock of
God. There are many debates, and troubles,
and pains, about these our liberties, but little
diligence in the use of them ; congregations
are still as full of impiety and profaneness as
ever. Oh ! take heed, lest we thus forfeit
them after all they have cost, and provoke
God to bereave us of them. Men are busy
that we know are not friends to the Church
of God ; but oh ! that we were more careful
to be in good terms with him : If he be for
us, who can be against us ? It is no matter
who be, he is too wise and too strong for
them all.
VER.Q. Let love be without dissimulation. Abhor
that which is evil, cleave to that which is good.
THE whole sum of the law is love ; love
to God, and love to man, these two contain
all, and the former of the two contains the
latter : love to God is the only true principle
and spring of all due love to man ; and all
love that begins there, returns thither like-
wise, and ends there.
The engaging the whole mind and soul
to the love of God, does not engross it so,
that there should be no kind of love com-
municable to man ; on the contrary, it is to
refine it, that it may flow forth the purer and
better. All love should be once called in to
God, fo be sublimated and purified there,
and then set in its right channel and motion,
so as man be loved in him and for him ; not
to impair our love to him, but indeed to ex-
tend and act it as he allows ; and so to love
man is to love God, that love taking its rise
from him, and terminating in him ; and in
this circle is the proper motion of celestial
divine love.
The duty, then, here meant and command-
ed, is this, that we love one another ; and
our love must be thus qualified, it must be
unhypocritical and sincere ; such as, though
it may consist with, yet doth not wholly con.
sist in, civilities of expression and behaviour,
but a real benevolence of soul, and good will
to all ; a love, disposing readily to forgive
evil, and do good upon all occasions.
Yet this is not such a tenderness of coin-
placency, as to partake with any in any evil
ways ; Oh ! no ; abhorring that which is
evil, flying from it with indignation, with a
kind of antipathy. And thus it will be from
the new nature in a Christian, the holy spirit
of Christ, which cannot endure the unholi-
ness or impurity of the world, but is chased
away, as doves with noisome smells, or bees
with smoke ; this delicacy of spirit profane
men laugh at, as a weak, foolish meanness ;
but, fools as they are, they know not that it
arises from that highest wisdom which is
from above, which indeed is peaceable, but
first is pure, and can admit of no peace nor
agreement with any persons or things that
are impure ; this is to be like the all-wise
God, with whom wickedness cannot dwell ;
his pure eyes cannot pleasantly behold ant
iniquity.
Oh ! much of the love of God would work
more hatred of sin ; but if thy hatred of evil
be right, know, it will begin at home, as we
feel aversions and abhorrences most when the
things are nearest us. It is not the upright
nature of holiness to hate sin in others, and
to hug it, or spare it in thyself, either the
same kind of sin, or any other ; for if this,
abhorrence be right, it is against all sin, the
whole, as natural contrarieties are, and it is
most against it, when nearest in thyself; it
is the true divine fire of zeal, kindled by the
love of God, that burns up sin, but first that
which is nearest it, as a fire in the hearth
does, and so reaches what is further off. But
if thy zeal fly most abroad upon others, it is
an unruly, disordered wild-fire, cracking and
squibbing up and down, good for nothing but
to set houses and towns on fire.
Cleave to that which is good.'} This ex-
presses a vehement and inseparable affection ;
loving and rejoicing in all the good thou
seest in others ; desiring and seeking after
all the good thou canst attain unto thyself;
and more pleased with the society of godly
persons than any other ; such as will put
thee and keep thee most in mind of thy home,
and the way thither, and admonish and reduce
thee from any declining steps ; their reproofs
are more sweet to thee, and the laughter and
flattery of profane men, as one said to his
master, " Thou shalt find no staff hard
enough to beat me from thee." * Though
they seem harsh to thee, yet wilt thou say,
Let the righteous smite me, it shall be a
kindness, Psal. cxli. 5 ; and no opposition
will drive thee from the truth of God, and
lis ways, which are only good, if thy heart
)e once glued by love and fastened to them ;
VEH. 10.]
ON ROMANS XII.
335
yea, thou wilt cleave the closer to it, the more
thou art persecuted for the truth ; and the
more thou sufferest for it, wilt love it the
better : the word that is used in marriage,
of the husband cleaving to the wife, holds
true in the soul once married to that which
is good ; all violence will be too weak to
sever thee. Learn to know what this is that
is truly good, to know the excellency and
sweetness of holiness, and it will be impos-
sible to part thy affection from it ; but this
is the reason why men are so soon shaken,
and the slender hold they have removed, the
superfices of the soul only is tied to the out-
side of religion, by some external relations
and engagements, and those are a running
knot, that easily slips. Few receive the
truth in the love of it, and have their hearts
united to Jesus Christ, who is indeed all that
good we have to seek after, and to cleave to.
VER. 10. Be kindly affectioned one to another with
brotherly love ; in honour preferring one another.
Now, in this way of holy spiritual affec-
tion, seeking the true good one of another,
be kind in brotherly love, not upon design
or particular interest, but by a natural pro-
pension ; such as in creatures to their young ;
such a tenderness as is amongst men of near-
est relations, parents, and children, and bre-
thren ; and know that you are indeed brethren
of the highest birth and parentage ; and so,
beyond all brethren, Christians are obliged
to love one another : alas ! that in them,
likewise, it should prove so unhappily true,
that the love of brethren is rare * ; that they
should be so hardly drawn to acts of love,
and so easily stirred to fits of anger and bit-
terness, one towards another. JMy beloved,
are we Christians ? Oh ! where is the spirit
of Christ ? Where that great law of his,
that badge of his followers, Love one an-
other ! that by which the Christians of the
first times astonished the Pagans about them ?
Yea, their very enemies and persecutors were
amazed at it. It were well, and would be
one considerable gain by our enemies, if their
combinations and malice against the godly
might drive them close together, and unite
them more to one another in love.
In honour preferring one another.]
Putting all possible respect on one another ;
this is not in ceremony or compliment,
though these civilities, that are due, and
done without feignedness or affection, are not
disallowed, yea, are, I conceive, included ;
but in matter of real esteem, each preferring
one another : for though a man may see the
weakness of those he converses with, yet
passing, and what he can, covering these, he
ought to take notice of what is good. All
have something commendable, and none hath
all; so the meanest may in something be
preferable to the highest ; and Christian hu-
* Fratrum quoque gratia rara est.
mility and charity will seek out for, and espy
that, and for it put all respect upon them,
that their quality and station is able to bear ;
and in this, one should prevent another, and
strive who shall do most in this kind, as a
good and happy contention.
And the source of this is love to God, that
so mortifies the heart to all outward advan-
tages, that, further than a man is tied by
place and calling, he would not receive,
much less desire, any kind of respect from
any, but had rather be slighted and disre-
garded. What cares a soul, enamoured with
the glory to come, for the vain passing air of
preference and honour here ? That it can
easily bate to any, and, so far as a man has
any power of it, woidd put it upon others,
far rather than own it himself; such an one
can sweetly please himself in being the
meanest in all companies where he comes,
and passing for such ; and he is glad of respect
done to others, still looking homeward, where
there is no prejudging one another at all,
but perfect unenvying, and unenvied glory.
Glory here is to be shunned rather than pur
sued : and, if it will follow, yet it is less to
be regarded than thy shadow. Oh ! how
light and vanishing is it, and even things
more solid than it ; the fashion of tins
world passeth away, 1 Cor. vii. 31.
VER. 11. Not slothful in business, fervent in spirit,
serving the Lord.
Not slothful in business.] These con-
densed rules have much in them ; and this
is very needful, for often a listless indisposed
weariness overtakes even good men ; seeing
so little to be done to any purpose, they are
almost ready to give over all ; yet they ought
to bestir themselves, and apply to diligence
in their place, not unduly stickling and busy
in things improper, but inclosing thy dili-
gence within thy sphere. Suffer it not to
stand, but keep it there in motion ; as to
thy worldly affairs, be so diligent as to give
them good dispatch, when thou art about
them, but have thy heart as little in them,
as much disengaged, as may be : yet so ac-
quitting them wisely, they shall trouble thee
the less, when thou art in higher and better
employments. As to thyself, be often ex-
amining thy heart and ways, striving con-
stantly against sin ; though little sensible
advantage be gained, yet if thou yield, it
will be worse. If it prevail so much amidst
all thy opposition, what would it do if thou
shouldst sit still ! Use all holy means, how
fruitless soever they seem for the present,
and wait on God. We have toiled all
night, said Simon, and taken nothing,
Luke v. 5, and yet at his command, essay-
ing again, they took more at once, than
if, after their ordinary way, they had been
taking all night. So as to others, give not
up because thou seest no present success,
336
EXPOSITORY LECTURES
[VEB. 12.
but, in thy place, admonish, exhort, and
•rebuke, with all meekness and patience.
Doth God wait on sinners, and wilt not thou
wait a little for others ?
Fervent in spirit. ] Beware of a fretful
impatience ; that is a fretful distempered
heat, as that of a fever, that makes a man
unfit for work ; and men commonly in this
break away from their business : but much
healthful natural heat makes a man strong,
and able to endure labour, and continue in
it. This is the thing here recommended.
To be so hot and fervent in spirit is a great
advantage : it is the very strength of the
soul in all employments : much love to God,
and desire of his glory ; this is the heat that
will not weary, will cheerfully go through
all discouragements ; many waters will not
quench it. This fervour of spirit, wrought
by the Spirit of God, doth clearly difference
itself from that inordinate heat of our spirits,
which may sometimes either act alone, or
mingle itself with the other in the best causes
and affairs. That holy fervour is composed
and regular in working, runs not headily to
unadvised or disorderly ways ; it is a sweet
delightful heat, not painful and vexing as
the other ; it carries on to duty, and is not
disturbed about events.
Serving the Lord.] Some copies have
it, serving the time ; which though it may
bear a fair construction, of taking present
occasions of good, and being useful in our
generation, and accommodating ourselves in
all lawful things to times and persons, for
their good, as our Apostle became all things
to all, to win some : yet this kind of expres-
sion not being found elsewhere in Scripture,
and the most copies having it as we read it,
and some mistake of letters in transcribers
seeming to have occasioned it, it is much
rather to be taken as in our version.
But, out of all question, some do follow
that mistaken reading in its worst sense ;
instead of serving the Lord, serving the
times : and this some, even in evil wavs ;
others^ in ways that are good ; yet following
upon trust, and complying, though unwill-
ingly, because the times carry things so ;
but where times change to the worse, these
men are discovered ; for still they serve their
master, the times, and their own advantage
in them; which way soever that goes they
follow ; so that their following the Better
side, in better times, is but accidental.
But this serving the Lord is more even
and lasting ; serving him still in all times,
doing all for him, having no aim but his
glory ; such a heart cannot be diverted from
its course, by any counter-blast of times.
Would you be stedfast in times of ap-
proaching trial, seek hearts acquainted with
God, and fixed on him ; for others will be
ehaken ; but such will follow him through all
hazards, and fear no ill while he is witli them.
VER. 12. Rejoicing in hope.] Oh ! this
we seldom do. When are our hearts aa
transported with the blessed hope of our
inheritance ? This would make us what
follows.
Patient in tribulation.] People would
hear much of this, of preparing for suffer-
ing ; there may be a distemper in desiring
to hear and speak so much of that. What
though trials be coming, as it is likely they
are, we should account too much of our-
selves, and this present world, to dwell ex-
pressly on that subject. We see the Apostles
do not so, though they lived and wrote in
times of other sort of persecution than we
have yet seen ; and they, to whom the
Apostle here writes, lived where it was most
violent and potent, and yet they spend not
all on this ; some brief words of it, inter,
spersed with the discourse, thrown as it were
'into a parenthesis : but still the main is, the
doctrine of faith and rules of holiness ; and
these are indeed the great furniture for all
sufferings ; I know no other. To see much
the excellency and worth of Jesus Christ,
the riches of our hope in him, to have these
in our view, much in our hearts and in our
mouths; these drown all the little fears of
present things. See how, in passing, our
Apostle speaks, as it were in a slighting
way, of all sufferings for him : I have cast it
up, says he ; and / reckon that the suffer-
ings of this present time (of this now) are
not worthy to be compared to the glory
which shall be revealed in u.i.
Again, the other thing is <he rules of ho.
liness : these powerfully enablp for suffering
any thing, rather than unholiness ; the sick-
ness of the soul, these corrupt humours of
sin, make it crazy, so that it can endure no
blasts of air ; but when it is purged and free
from these, and in communion with God in
his ways, then it is healthful and strong ;
and so is able to endure any thing. The mor-
tifying of our affections to the world, that is
it that enables for suffering. Whither
reaches the cruelty of man, but to thy goods,
or body ? and what makes any faint, but an
over-esteem of these, by which they are fill-
ed with desires to preserve, and fears to lose
them ? Now, when the heart is disengaged
from these, and hath taken up in God, is
rich and content in him, it stands not so
much to the courtesy of any ; let them take
the rest ; it suffers with joy the spoiling of
goods, having in Heaven a more enduring
substance, Heb. x. 34. And for the ut-
most, killing them, they look, on it as the
highest favour ; it is to them but the mak-
ing a hole for them in their prison-wall to
get out at. Therefore, I say, there is no-
;hing doth so fit for all encounters, as to be
much instructed in that which is the sub-
stance of Christianity, hearts purified, and
lives holily and spiritually regulated. In a
12.J
ON ROMANS XII.
83?
word, much study of Christ, and much study
of thyself, for aught I know, are the wisest
»nd strongest preparatives for all possible
Bufferings.
How sweetly can the soul retire into him,
and repose in him, in the greatest storms !
I know nothing that can much dismay him
less than the itrength of God to support it :
and what then can surcharge it ?
Thy access to him all the enemies in the
world cannot hinder ; the closest prison shuts
not out thy God : yea, rather, it shuts out
other things and companies, that thou mayst
have the more leisure for him, and the
sweeter converse with him. Oh ! acquaint
that can believe and pray*. That you see is
added. yourselves with this exercise of prayer, and
Continuing instant in prayer.] If ; by it with God, that if days of trouble come,
afraid of fainting, yea, if at the point of you may know whither to go, and what way ;
fainting, this revives the soul, draws in no
* Nempe tenens quod amo, nihil, ilium amplcxui.
•imeoo.
and if you know this way, whatever befall
you, you are not much to be bemoaned.
CHARGES,
TO THE CLERGY OF THE DIOCESAN SYNOD OF DUNBLANE, BY
BISHOP LEIGHTON.
I. Bishop Leighton's Charge to his
Clergy, September 1662.
FOR DISCIPLINE.
FIRST. That all diligence be used for th
repressing of profaneness, and for the advance
ment of solid piety and holiness.
Secondly. That not only scandals of un
chastity, but drunkenness, swearing, cursinr;
filthy speaking, and mocking of religion
and all other gross offences, be brought unde
church-censure.
Thirdly. That scandalous offenders be
not absolved, till there appear in them ver
probable signs of true repentance.
Fourthly. That inquiry be made by th
minister, not only into the knowledge, bu
the practice and track of life, of those who
are to be admitted to the holy communion ;
and all profane, and evidently impenitent
persons, be secluded, till their better conver-
sation and obedience to the gospel be more
apparent.
Fifthly. That family prayer be inquired
after; and they that can, be exhorted to
join with it reading of the Scriptures.
FOR WORSHIP.
First. That instead of lecturing and
preaching both at one meeting, larger por-
tions of the Holy Scriptures, one whole
chapter at least of each Testament, and Psalms
withal, be constantly read : and this not as a
bye-work, while they are convening, but
after the people are well convened, and the
worship solemnly begun with confession of
sins and prayer, either by the minister or
some fit person by him appointed.
Secondly. That the Lord's prayer be re-
stored to more frequent use ; likewise the
doxology and the creed.
Thirdly. That daily public prayer, in
churches, morning and evening, with read,
ing of the Scriptures, be used where it can
be had conveniently, and the people be ex-
horted to frequent them ; not so as to think
that this should excuse them from daily pri-
vate prayer, in their families and in secret,
but rather as a help to enable them, and dis-
pose them the more for both these ; and let
the constant use of secret prayer be recom-
mended to all persons, as the great instru-
ment of sanctifying the soul, and of enter-
taining and enchasing in it the love of
God.
Fourthly. That the younger sort, and the
ignorant, be diligently catechised at fit times,
all the year through ; and that work not
wholly laid over on some days or weeks be-
fore the celebration of the communion, but
that the inquiry, at that time, be rather of
their good conversation, and due disposition
for partaking of that holy ordinance, as was
said before in an article touching discipline.
Fifthly. That ministers use some short
form of catechism, such as they may require
account of, till a common form be agreed on.
Sixthly. That preaching be plain, and
useful for all capacities ; not entangled with
useless questions and disputes, nor continued
:o a wearisome length. The great and most
necessary principles of religion most frequent-
y treated upon ; and oftentime larger por-
ions of Scripture explained, and suitable
nstructions and exhortations thence deduced:
and let that be the sermon at that time :
which will doubtless be as truly preaching
and useful, if not more so, than insisting,
or a whole sermon or more, upon one short
verse or sentence.
CHARGES TO THE CLERGY.
The Bishop propounded to the brethren, :
that it was to be reminded, by himself and
them both, how eminent degrees of purity of
heart and life their holy calling doth engage
them ; to how great contempt of this present
world, and inflamed affections toward heaven,
springing from deep persuasions within them
of those things they preach to others, and
from the daily meditation of them, and
fervent prayer : and that we consider how
ill it becomes us to be much in the trivial
conversation of the world : but when our
duty or necessity involves us in company,
that our speech and deportment be exempla-
rily holy, ministering grace to those with
whom we converse ; and, (to add but this
one thing, so suitable to ministers of the
gospel of peace,) that we be meek and gentle,
and lovers and exhorters of peace, private
and public, amongst all ranks of men ; en-
deavouring rather to quench, than to increase
the useless debates and contentions that
abound in the world ; and be always more
studious of pacific than polemic divinity ;
that certainly being much diviner than this,
for the students of it are called the sons of
God.
II. The Bishop's Address after the busi-
ness was over, October 1665.
After the affairs of the Synod were ended,
the Bishop shewed the brethren he had
somewhat to impart to them that concerned
himself, which, though it imported little or
nothing, either to them or the church, yet
he judged it his duty to acquaint them with :
and it was, the resolution he had taken of
retiring from this public charge ; and that all
the account he could give of the reasons mov<
ing him to it, was briefly this ; the sense he
had of his own un worthiness of sohigh a station
in the church, and his weariness of the conten-
tions of the church, which seemed rather to be
growing than abating ; and, by their growth,
did make so great abatements of that Chris-
tian meekness and mutual charity, that is so
much more worth than the whole sum of al]
that we contend about. He thanked the
brethren for all their undeserved respect and
kindness manifested to himself all along ;
and desired their good construction of the
poor endeavours he had used to serve them,
and to assist them in promoting the work ol
the ministry, and the great designs of the
gospel in their bounds ; and if in any thing,
in word or deed, he offended them, or any
of them, he very earnestly and humbly cra-
ved their pardon ; and having recommended
to them to continue in the study of peace and
holiness, and of ardent love to our great
Lord and Master, and to the souls he hath
so dearly bought, he closed with these words
of the Apostle ; " Finally, brethren, fare-
well : Be perfect, be of good comfort, be of
one mind, and live in peace ; and the God
of peace and love shall be with you."
III. The Bishop's Charge, October 1666.
1. It was enacted, That all the minister*
do endeavour to bring their people to a high
esteem of the Holy Scriptures, and of the
reading of them in public ; and to give evi-
dence thereof by reverent and attentive hear-
ing, none being permitted to stand about
the doors, or lie in the kirk-yard, during
the time of reading ; and if after warning
given them of this, any shall be found to
continue in the same disorder, they are, by
due rebukes and censures, to be brought to
obedience.
2. That the ministers be careful to direct
the readers what parts of the Scriptures are
most frequently to be read ; as the histories
of the gospel, and the epistles ; and of the
Old Testament, the most intelligible and
practical parts, particularly, large portions
of the Psalms at all times, being both so
excellently instructive, and withal so divine
forms of prayers and praises, and therefore
have been so much used by the Christian
Churches in all ages, and always made so
great a part of their public service.
3. That no readers be permitted, but
such as are tried and approved by the Pres-
bytery.
4. That, besides the reading betwixt the
second and third bell, which is but as in the
interval for those that are come, till the
rest do convene, some parts of the Scriptures
be read after the last bell is rung out, and
the congregation more fully met, and the
minister is come in ; either by himself, or
by the reader at his appointment ; one chap*
ter at least, together with some of the Psalms,
one or more, as they are of length, and of
which some pan afterwards may be sung, and
so the people shall the better understand what
they sing. Thus shall this so useful ordi-
nance of public reading of the Scriptures be
performed with more solemnity, and brought
into greater respect and veneration, and the
people be more universally and plentifully
edified by it. But, together with this, the
reciting of the ten commandments, and the
belief, according to the acts of former Synods,
is no Lord's-day to be omitted ; nor is this
only or mainly meant as a help to the people's
learning the words of them, and so being
able to repeat them, but as a solemn pub.
licatiou of the law of God, as the rule of
our life, and a solemn profession of our believ-
ing the articles of our Christian faith, and
for the quickening of our affections towards
both.
And as to that exercise of reading the
Scriptures, it cannot be imagined that any well-
340
CHARGES TO THE CLERGY.
instructed and solid-minded Christian can
question the great expediency and usefulness
of it for all ranks of people : for, besides
that many of our commons cannot read, and
so cannot use the Scriptures in private, and
too many that can, yet do neglect it, even
they that use them most in private, will not
only no whit the less, but so much the
more, be well satisfied and edified with hear-
ing them read in public, and will more re-
verently and religiously attend to them, and
with the blessing of God upon them so doing,
not fail to find (what others can say they
have often found) divers passages and sen-
tences falling frequently in upon their hearts
in public reading, with particular warmth
and divine force, nothing below, if not
sometimes beyond, what they usually find in
pri vate.
If the 'minister think fit to make his ser-
mon for the time, upon some part of what,
by himself, or by his appointment, hath
been read, it may do well ; and possibly so
much the better, the longer the text be, and
the shorter the sermon be ; for, it is greatly
to be suspected, that our usual ,«ay of very
short texts, and very long sermons, is apt
to weary people more, and profit them less.
But, whatsoever they do in this, they
would beware of returning to their long ex-
positions, besides their sermon, at one and
the same meeting : which, besides the tedi-
ousness and other inconveniences, is apt to
foment in people's minds, the foolish preju-
dice and proud disdain they have taken
against the Scriptures read without a super-
added discourse, in which conceit, for all
their zeal against Popery, they seem to be
too much of the Romish opinion, as account-
ing the Holy Scriptures so obscure in them-
selves, that it is someway dangerous, or at
least altogether unprofitable, to intrust the
common people either with reading or hear-
ing any part of them at any time, unless they
be backed with continual expositions.
5. That ministers do endeavour to reduce
the people from the irreverent deportment
they have generally contracted in the public
worship ; particularly, from their most in-
decent sitting at prayer ; to kneel or stand,
as conveniently they may, that we may wor-
ship both with our bodies and with our souls,
Him that made both, and made them for
that very end. Oh ! hiw needful is that
invitatory to be often m?;^ in our ears, that
seem wholly to have forgot it, " Oh ! come
and let us worship and bow down, and kneel
before the Lord our Maker."
6. That people be frequently and earnest-
by exhorted to morning and evening prayer
in their families, especially the prime families
in parishes, as most exemplary.
7. That the way of catechising be more
adapted to the capacity of our rude and ig-
norant people ; that our sermons, particularly
those of the afternoon, may bu more frequent-
ly bestowed on the most plain and intelligible
way of explaining some point of catechetical
doctrine.
8. It was recommended, That convenient
utensils be provided in every kirk, for the ad-
ministration of the holy sacraments.
9. That according to our great and stand-
ing duty, we be still more and more zealous
and careful, by doctrine and discipline, to
purge out all profaneness ; particalarly, the
most common and crying sins, as drunken-
ness, cursing, swearing, railing, and bitter
speaking, and rotten filthy speaking, so usual
amongst the common sort, in their house or
field labour together, particularly in harvest ;
and that it be by all ministers recommended
to the owners of the crops, and overseers of
the reapers, to range them so to their work,
and in such divisions, as may give least oc-
casion to any thing of that kind.
10. That, as we ourselves would be ex-
emplary in holiness, we would endeavour
that our seniores plebis, or elders of the
people, be so too ; and for that end rathe-
to have them well chosen, though fewer,
than a great number of such as too often
they are.
11. That the Presbyteries do inquire of
each one of their number concerning the cele-
bration of the communion, that at least our
usual returns of it be neglected by none ;
for it is one of the great defects and reproach-
es of our church, that that great ordinance,
being so useful for the increase of holiness,
should be so seldom administered, as with
us it is even where it is oftenest. For the
way of examination in order to it, somewhat
is set down in our first Synod, which may be
looked at. if possibly it may prove to be of
any use.
IV. Paper given in by the Bishop to tht
Synod, April 1, 16G7-
I confess that my own inactive and un-
meddKng temper may be too apt to prevail
against the known duty of my station, and
may incline me rather to inquire too littlf
than too much into the deportment of others ;
and rather to be deficient, than to exceed in
admonitions and advices to my brethren, in
matters of their duty ; and, besides this
natural aversion, the sense of my own great
unworthiness and filthiness, may give me
check, and be a very strong curb upon me
in censuring others for what may be amiss,
or in offering any rules for the redress of it ;
and there is yet another consideration, that
bends still further that way ; for, I am so
desirous to keep far off from the reach of that
prejudice, that abounds in these parts,
against the verj name of my sacred function,
as apt to command and domineer too much*
CHARGES TO THE CLERGY.
341
that I may possibly erf on the other hand,
and scarce perform the duty of the lowest
and most moderate kind of moderator ; so
that I am forced to spur and drive up my-
self against all these retardments, to suggesl
any thing, how useful soever, beyond our
road or accustomed way, especially, finding
how little any thing of that kind takes, and
prevails to any real effect.
However, when any appears to me of evi-
dent reason and usefulness, and that easily
joins in, and paceth with, our standing cus-
tdms, J judge it my duty to offer it to you ;
and I hope, if that ye shall find it of any use,
ye will not reject it, but rather improve it to
somewhat better, that by occasion of it may
arise in your own thoughts.
Something of this kind I have formerly
moved, concerning the way of dealing with
persons fallen into scandalous sin : frequent
speaking with them in private, to the con-
vincing and awakenii.i' their consciences to
a lively sense of sin, and directing them in
the exercises of repentance, and exhorting
them to set apart some time for a solemn
humbling of their souls in fasting and prayer ;
and not to admit them to public confession,
until they have, to our best discerning, some
real heart-sense of sin, and remorse for it,
and serious purposes of newness of life.
Likewise, I suggested somewhat touching
the way of examining of all persons, toward
their admission to the holy communion, be-
sides the ordinary way of catechising the
younger and more ignorant sort : and some
other particulars, much like these, that now
I will not repeat.
That which I would recommend at this
time, relates to the business of Privy trials
(as they are called) of ministers in their
Presbyteries, toward the time of the Synod ;
in which I have perceived, in some places,
(if I may be pardoned that free word,) very
much of superficial empty form ; for the help
of which, besides other ways, which may be
thought on, that which occurs to me at pre-
sent is this : That some certain questions
be asked of every minister before he with-
draws : and these be much the same with
those that usually are, or fitly may be, pro-
pounded to the elders and people concerning
their minister at the visitation of particular
kirks. For though, in the case we now speak
of, we can have nothing but every man's own
word concerning himself, yet this does not
render it an useless thing ; for, besides that
divers of the questions will be of things, so
obvious to public knowledge, that no man
will readily adventure to give an uivrue an-
swer, where it may be so easily traced, there
ismuch to be given to the presumed ingenuity
and veracity of a minister, especially in what
is solemnly and punctually inquired of him ;
and whatsoever, formerly, hath been, or hath
not been, his former degree of diligence in,
the particulars, the very inquiry and asking
concerning them, will be apt to awake in
every man a more serious reflection upon
himself touching each point ; and the draw-
ing forth such an express answer to each be-
fore his brethren, w;ll probably excite and
engage him to higher exactness in all of them
for the time to come
The particulars * conceive may be these,
and such others, like them, as may be fur-
ther thought fit.
1. Whether he be constantly assiduous in
plain and profitable preaching, instructing,
and exhorting, and reproving, most expressly
and frequently, those sins that abound most
among his people ; and in all things, to his
best skill, fitting his doctrine to the capaci-
ties, necessities, and edification of all sorts
within his charge ?
2. Whether he be diligent in catechising,
employing throughout the year such seasons
and times for it, as may be easiest and fittest
for the people to attend it, and not wholly cast-
ing it over upon some few days or weeks near
the time of the communion ?
3. How often in the year he celebrates the
holy communion ? for I am ashamed to say,
whether, at least, once every year ?
4. Whether he does faithfully and im-
partially exercise discipline, and bring all
known scandals to due censure ; and does
speak privately, and that oftener than once,
with the persons convicted, and admits them
not to public acknowledgment, till he sees
in them some probable signs of true repent,
ance.
5. Whether he be diligent, by himself
and his elders in all convenient ways, to know
the deportment of the several families and
persons of his flock ; and do frequently visit
the families, and not only ask, but do his
best certainly to inform himself, whether they
constantly use morning and evening prayer,
together with reading of the Scriptures, if
they have any that can do it ; and whether
this point of family exercise be specially pro-
vided for in the choice families in the parish.
6. Whether he be careful of the relief of
the poor, and of visiting the sick, whensoever
he knows of any, even though they neglect
to send for him ; and for this e_id make in.
quiry, and the rather prevent their sending,
because they commonly defer that, till it can
be of little or no use to them.
7. Whether he does in private plainly and
freely admonish those he knows, or hath
cause to suspect, to be given to uncleanness,
or drunkenness, or swearing, or any kind of
inordinate walking, especially if they be of
that quality that engages him frequently to
converse with them ; and if they continue
such, leaves off that converse ; and if their
miscarriage be public, brings them to public
censure.
8. Whether he watches exactly over his
CHARGES TO THE CLERGY".
own conversation in all things, that he no
only give no offence, but be an example to
the flock, and preach by living.
9. Whether he spend the greatest portion
of his time in private, in reading, and prayer
and meditation, — a thing so necessary to en-
able him for all the other parts of this duty.
10. Whether he makes it the great busi
ness, and withal the great pleasure of his life
to fulfil the work of his ministry, in th<
several parts and duties of it, out of love to
God, and to the souls of his people.
11. If he does not only avoid gross of-
fences, (which in a guide of souls were in-
tolerable,) but studies daily to mortify pride,
and rash anger, and vain glory, and covetous-
ness, and love of this world and of sensua'
pleasures, and self-love, and all inordinate
passions and affections, even in those instances
wherein they are subtilest and least discern-
ible by others, and commonly too little dis-
cerned by ourselves.
1 2. If he not only lives in peace with his
brethren and flock, and with all as much as
possible, but is an ardent lover and promoter
of it, reconciling differences, and preserving
good agreement, all he can, amongst his
people.
It hath not escaped my thoughts, that some
of these questions, being of things more in-
ward, may seem less fit to be publicly pro-
pounded to any ; and that the best observers
of them will, both out of modesty and real
humility, and severe judging of themselves,
be aptest to charge themselves with deficiency
in them, and will only own, at most, sincere
desires and endeavour, which, likewise, they
that practise and mind them least, may, in
general, profess : neither is there any more
particular and punctual account to be expect-
ed of such things from any man in public :
but the main intent in these, (as was said
before,) is serious reflection, and that each of
us may be stirred up, to ask ourselves over
again these and more of the like questions,
in our most private trials, and our secret scru-
tinies of our own hearts and lives, and may
redouble our diligence in purging ourselves ;
that we may be in the house of God vessels
of honour, sanctified and meet for the Master's
use, and prepared to every good work : and,
for those other things more exposed to the
knowledge of others, if any brother hears of
any faultiness in any of the number, he shall
not do well to think rudely to vent it in the
meeting, till first he have made all due in-
quiry after the truth of it ; yea, though he
hath it upon inquiry to be true, yet ought he
not, even then, to make his first essay of rec-
tifying his brother, by a declaration to the
full meeting, without having formerly ad-
monished him, first alone, and then (accord-
ing to our Saviour's rule) in the presence of I
one or two more : but having done so, if nei-'
ther of these reclaim him, then follows of
necessity to tell the church : but that is like-
wise to be done with great singleness of heart,
and charity, and compassion ; and the whole
procedure of the whole company, with the
person so delated, is to be managed with the
same temper, according to the excellent advice
of the Apostle, Gal. vi. 2, " My brethren,
if any man be overtaken in a fault, ye which
are spiritual restore such a one in the spiiit
of meekness, considering thyself, lest thou
also be tempted."
V. Paper given in by the Bishop to the
Synod, October 1667, containing Pro-
posals touching the following things:
1. Solemn reading of the Scriptures.
2. Reducing of the people to a reverent
gesture in prayer.
3. Plain and practical, and catechetical
preaching.
4. A weekly day for catechising, and the
reading of the Scriptures joined with it.
5. A short and plain form of catechism.
6. A more exact and spiritual way of deal-
ing with public penitents.
7. As likewise of preparing people for the
communion ; more frequent celebration where-
of is so much to be wished, but so little, or
scarce at all, to be hoped in this Church.
8. That, in preaching, the most abound-
ing and crying sins be more sharply and fre-
quently reproved, particularly cursing and
swearing ; and the worship of God in families
more urged.
9. The due educating and moulding the
minds of young students in presbyteries.
10. More frequent and more exact visita-
tion of churches ; and the visiting of families
by each minister in his own charge.
The words of the Paper were as follow :
1. That the reading of the Holy Scriptures
in our public meetings, when they are solemn-
est and fullest, be constantly used, and that
we endeavour to bring our people to a rever-
ent and affectionate esteem of that ordinance,
and attention to it.
2. That, both by our own example, and
ay frequent instruction and exhortation, we
study to reform that extreme irreverence and
indecency that hath generally prevailed in
3eople's deportment in time of public wor-
ship, and particularly of prayer : and that
they be reduced to such a gesture, as ma/
signify that we are acknowledging and ador-
ng the great Majesty of God.
3. That we endeavour to adapt our way of
Breaching, with all evidence and plainness,
o the informing of the people's minds, and
quickening their affections, and raising in
them renewed purposes of a Christian life ;
and that some part of our sermons be design.
CHARGES TO THE CLERGY.
ed for the plain and practical explication of
the great principles of religion.
4. That we fix some certain times, at least
one day in the week, throughout the year,
for catechising, and that, withal, there be
reading of the Scriptures, and prayer at the
same time ; to which, besides that part of the
people that are for each time particularly
warned to be present, those others that are
near the church, and at leisure, may resort ;
for the work of the ministry is a husban-
dry of more continual labour and attendance
than that of our country people that labour
the ground, and therefore cannot well be
duly discharged if it be wholly cast over upon
the Lord's day, without ever meeting with
them, or bringing any considerable part of
them together, all the week long.
5. It seems absolutely necessary that each
minister would resolve on some short and
plain form of catechism, for the use of his
people ; for it is not, I think, to be imagin-
ed, that ever people would have any fixed
knowledge of the articles of religion, by lax
and continually varied discourses and forms,
or by catechisms too long and too hard for
them : and would some draw up several short
forms, they might be revised at the next
Synod, and possibly one framed out of them,
which, by consent, might be appointed for
the use of this diocese for the interim, till
one shall be published for the whole church.
6. That, which hath been formerly pro-
posed, would be reminded, of a more exact
and spiritual way of dealing with public of-
fenders, that their reception might be both
more apt to recover the penitents themselves,
and to edify the church.
7. For more frequent communion, (if it
could be had,) or, however, for the better
improving it when we have it, seldom as it is,
what hath been formerly suggested, touching
the way of examining and preparing people
to it, and other particulars relating thereto,
need not be repeated, but need very much to
be really practised, if they can be of any use.
8. Likewise, enough hath been formerly
•aid, (it were well if any thing might once
appear to be done,) touching the worship of
God in families, especially the prime ones
within our bounds : as likewise touching the
exercise of discipline, for the repressing of
swearing and drunkenness, and all profaneness,
so much abounding everywhere ; and that
our doctrine be likewise more particularly,
and frequently, applied to that purpose.
9. Something hath likewise been said
concerning the training up of such young men
amongst us as intend the ministry, not only
as to their strain of preaching, but the
moulding of their minds to more inward
thoughts, and the study of a devout life, and
more acquaintance with the exercises of mor-
tification, and purging of their own hearts
by those divine truths which they are to preach
to others, for the same purpose ; for how
shall they teach what they have not learned ?
10. That churches be more frequently and
exactly visited, and by each minister the
Families of his congregation.
This paper being publicly read, and con^
sented to, and approved by the unanimous
vote of the Synod, conform to it was framed^
the following act :
The Bishop and Synod having seriously
considered the height of profaneness, and
gross sins abounding among their people,
particularly drunkenness and uncleanness,
and most universally the heinous sin oi
cursing and swearing, and, that which fo-
ments and increases those, and all sins, the
great contempt of the Lord's holy day and
ordinances ; and the gross and almost incre-
dible ignorance of the common sort, under
so much assiduous preaching and catechising ;
for the more effectual redress of all these evils,
have agreed and resolve, through the Lord's
help, each one, within himself, to stir the
grace and zeal of God that is within him,
to renewed vigour and fervour, and more
earnest endeavours in the use of all due means
for that effect ; and particularly,
1. The applying of their sermons and
doctrines more expressly and requently to
the reproof of those wickednesses, especially oi
that horrible sin, which almost all ranks oi
men do more easily and frequently commi'
than they can possibly do other gross sins,
and that with less sense and remorse, — curs-
ing and swearing : and that they will, by
God's assistance, not only use short and fre-
quent reproofs of this and other sins, but a'
sometimes more largely insist in representing
the exceeding sinfulness and vileness of such
a particular sin, and the great danger of the
Lord's wrath and heaviest judgments upon
those that persist in it.
2. That with this they will join constant
private inspection over the lives of their peo.
pie, and, by all due means, particularly in-
quire into them ; and when they find any one
guilty of any gross sin, privately to admonish
him, meekly and affectionately, but yet witk
all freedom and plainness ; and if upon tha*
they mend not, to proceed in the regular way
of discipline and censure within their own
charge ; and if they be not by that reclaimed,
but prove obstinate, then to delate them tc
the higher judicature, in the usual order oi
this church.
3. To use more frequent catechising, and
that in so plain a method and way, as may
be most apt, both to inform the minds of the
most ignorant, and, through the blessing of
God, to make more deep impressions upon
their hearts.
4. That, as much as is competent fin
ministers, they will endeavour to procure the
executing of these penal laws made against
cursing and swearing, and other scandalout
344
CHARGES TO THE CLERGY.
offences, in such a way as may be most con-
venient and feasible in each of their respec-
tive parishes.
5. That they will endeavour, both by ex-
hortation, and, where need is, by use of
discipline, to bring their people to more care-
ful and constant attendance on all the ordi-
nances of God, at all times of the accustomed
public meetings, and to a more religious
and reverend deportment in them throughout
the whole, but particularly in time of prayer.
6. That they be particularly careful to in-
quire after the daily performance of the wor-
ship of God in families, and, where they
find it wanting, to enjoin it, and make in-
quiry again after it ; and this would be es-
pecially provided for, in the choice and most
eminent families in the several congregations,
as exemplary to all the rest.
VI. Concluding Paragraph, April 1688.
The Bishop, having commended the Bre-
thren for their unity and concord, and good
conversation, exhorted them to continue
therein, and to be more and more exemplary
in holiness, and in modesty and gravity, even
in the externals of their air and habit, and
their whole deportment ; and to the regulat-
ing of their children, and their whole families,
to be patterns of religion and sobriety to all
about them ; and that they themselves aspire
daily to greater abstraction from the world,
and contempt of things below ; giving them-
selves wholly to their great work of watching
over souls, for which they must give account ;
and to reading and meditation ; and to prayer,
that draws continual fresh supplies from hea-
ven, to enable them for all these duties.
VII. Paragraph respecting Baptismal
Vows, October 1668.
That which had been sometimes spoke of
before, the Bishop now again recommended
to the Brethren, that at their set times of
catechising and examining their people, they
would take particular notice of young persons,
towards their first admission to the holy com.
munion ; and, having before taken account
of their knowledge of the grounds of reli-
gion, would then cause them, each one par-
ticularly and expressly, to declare their be-
lief of the Christian faith, into which, in their
infancy, they were baptized ; and, reminding
them of that their baptismal vow, and the
great engagements it lays upon them to a
holy and Christian life, would require of them
an explicit owning of that vow and engage-
ment, and their solemn promise accordingly,
to endeavour the observing and performance
of it, in the whole course of their following
life : and then, in their prayer with which
they use to conclude those meetings, would
recommend the said young persons, now thus
engaged, to the effectual blessing of God, be-
seeching him to own them for his, and to
bestow on them the sanctifying and strength-
ening grace of his Holy Spirit, as his signa-
ture upon them, sealing them to the day of
redemption.
And this practice, as it hath nothing in it
that can offend any, even the most scrupulous
minds, so it may be a very fit suppletory of
that defect in infant baptism, which the ene-
mies of it do mainly object against it, and
may, through the blessing of God, make a
lasting impression of religion upon the hearts
of those young persons towards whom it is
used, and effectually engage them to a Chris-
tian life ; and if they swerve from it, make
them the more inexcusable, and clearly con-
vincible of their unfaithfulness, and breach
of that great promise, and sacred vow, they
have so renewed to God before his people.
And for authority of divines, if we regard it,
it hath the general approbation of the most
famous reformers, and of the most pious and
learned that have followed them since their
time : and, being performed in that evan-
gelical simplicity, as it is here propounded,
they do not only allow it as lawful, but desire
it, and advise it as laudable and profitable, and
of very good use, in all Christian churches.
LETTERS,
WRITTEN BY BISHOP 1ETGHTON ON DIFFERENT OCCASIONS ; THE FIRST, TAKEN
FROM AN AUTHENTIC COPY ; THE REST, FROM THE AUTHOR*3
ORIGINALS. [Edit. 1748.]
Letter to the Synod of Glasgow, convened
April 1673.
REVEREND BRETHREN,
It is neither a matter of much importance,
nor can I yet give you a particular and sa-
tisfying account of the reasons of tny absence
from your meeting, which I trust, with the
help of a little time, will clear itself: but I
can assure you, I am present with you in my
most affectionate wishes of the gracious pre-
sence of that Holy Spirit' amongst you, and
within you all, who alone can make this and
all your meetings, and the whole work of
your ministry, happy and successful, to the
good of souls, and His glory that bought
them with his own blood. And I doubt not,
that your own great desire, each for yourself,
and all for one another, is the same ; and
that your daily and great employment is, by
incessant and fervent prayer, to draw down
from above large supplies and increases ol
that blessed Spirit, which our Lord and
Master hath assured us that our heavenly
Father will not fail to give to them that ask
it. And how extreme a negligence and
folly were it to want so rich a gift for want
of asking, especially in those devoted to so
high and holy a service, that requires so great
degrees of that spirit of holiness and divine
love to purify their minds, and to raise then:
above their senses and this present world !
Oh ! my dear Brethren, what are we doing,
that suffer our souls to creep and grovel on
this earth, and do so little aspire to the hea-
venly life of Christians, and more eminently
of the messengers and ministers of God, as
stars, yea, as angels, which he hath made
spirits, and his ministers a flame of fire !
Oh ! where are souls to be found amongst us
that represent their own original, that are
possessed with pure and sublime apprehen
sions of God, the Father of spirits, and are
often raised to the astonishing contempla-
tion of his eternal and blessed being, am
lis infinite holiness, and greatness, and
goodness ; and are accordingly burnt up with
ardent love ! And where that holy fire is
wanting, there can be no sacrifice, whatsoever
our invention, or utterance, or gifts may be,
md how blameless soever the externals of our
ife may be, and even our hearts free from
gross pollutions ; for it is scarce to be sus-
sected, that any of us will suffer any of
those strange, yet infernal fires of ambition
or avarice, or malice, or impure lusts and
sensualities, to burn within us, which would
render us priests of idols, of airy nothings,
and of dunghill gods, yea, of the very god
of this world, the prince of darkness. Let
men judge us, and revile us, as they please,
that imports nothing at all ; but God forbid
any thing should possess our hearts but He
that loved us, and gave himself for us ; for
we know we cannot be vessels of honour
meet for the Master's use, unless we purge
ourselves from all Jiltliiness of flesh and
spirit, and empty our hearts of all things
beside him, and even of ourselves and own
will, and have no more any desires nor de-
lights, but his will alone, and his glory,
who is our peace, and our life, and our all.
And, truly, I think it were our best and
wisest reHection, upon the many difficulties
and discouragements without us, to be
driven by them to live more within ; as thej
observe of the bees, that when it is foul
weather abroad, they are busy in their hives.
If the power of external discipline be ener-
vated in our hands, yet, who can hinder us
to try, and judge, and censure ourselves ;
and to purge the inner temples, our own
hearts, with the more severity and exactness ?
And if we be dashed and bespattered with
reproaches abroad, to study to be the cleaner
at home ; and the less we find of meekness
and charity in the world about us, to preserve
so much the more that sweet temper within
our own hearts ; blessing them that curse us,
and praying for them that persecute us •
so shall we most effectually prove ourselves
348
LETTERS,
to be the children of our heavenly Father, \\>j a word, can turn the violentest storm into
even to their conviction, that will scarce a great calm. What the particular thoughts
nllow us, in any sense, to be called his ser-
vants.
As for the confusions and contentions that
or temptations that disquiet you, I know not ;
but whatsoever they are, look above them,
and labour to fix your eye on that infinite
still abound and increase in this Church, and goodness, which never faileth them, that, by
threaten to undo it, I think our wisdom shall naked faith, do absolutely rely and rest upon
be, to cense from man, and look for no help
till we look more upwaads, and dispute and
discourse less, and fast and pray more ; and
so draw down our relief from the God of
or.ler and peace, who made the heavens and
the earth.
Concerning myself, I have nothing to say,
but humbly to entreat you to pass by the
many failings and weaknesses you may have
perceived in me during my abode amongst
you ; and if in any thing I have injured or
offended you, or any of you, in the manage-
ment of my public charge, or in private con-
verse, I do sincerely beg your pardon :
though, I confess, I cannot make any requi-
tal in that kind ; for J do not know of any
thing towards me, from any of you, that needs
a pardon in the least ; having generally paid
me more kindness and respect, than a much
bettar or wiser man could either have expect-
ed or deserved. Nor am I only a suitor
for your pardon, but for the addition of a
further charity, and that so great a one, that
I have nothing to plead for it, but that I
need it much, — your prayers. And I am
hopeful as to that, to make you some little
though very disproportioned return : for
whatsoever becomes of me, (through the help
of God,) while I live, you shall be no one
day of my life forgotten, by
Your most unworthy, but most affectionate,
Brother and Servant,
R. LEIGHTON.
P. S. I do not see whom it can offend,
or how any shall disapprove of it, if you will
appoint a fast throughout your bounds, to en-
treat a blessing on the seed committed to the
ground, and for the other grave causes that
are still the same they were the last year,
and the urgency of them no whit abated,
but rather increased ; but in this I prescribe
nothing, but leave it to your discretion, and
the direction of God.
The two following Letters were written to
Persons under Trouble of Mind.
CHRISTIAN FRIEND,
Though I had very little vacant time for
it, and patiently wait upon Him, who hath
pronounced them all, without exception,
blessed that do so. Say often within your
own heart, Though he slay me, yet will I
trust in him ; and if, after some intervals,
your troubled thoughts do return, check
them still with the holy Psalmist's words,
W hy art thou cast down, O my soul ? &c.
If you can thoroughly sink yourself down
through your own nothingness, into Him
who is all, and entirely renouncing your own
will, embrace that blest and holy will in all
things, there, I am sure, you shall find that
rest, which all your own distempers, and all
the powers of darkness, shall not be able to
bereave you of. I incline not to multiply
words ; and indeed other advice than this I
have none to give you. The Lord of peace,
by the sprinkling of the blood of his Son
Jesus, and the sweet breathings of the great
Comforter, his own Holy Spirit, give you
peace in himself. Amen.
MADAM,
Though I have not the honour to be ac-
quainted with your Ladyship, yet a friend
of yours has acquainted me with your con-
dition, though I confess the unfittest of all
men to minister any thing of spiritual relief
to any person, either by prayer or advice to
you ; but he could have imparted such a
thing to none of greater secrecy, and withal
of greater sympathy and tender compassion
towards such as are exercised with those
kinds of conflicts ; as having been formerly
acquainted with the like myself, all sorts of
sceptical and doubtful thoughts, touching
those great points, having not only past
through my head, but some of them have
for some time sat more fast and painfully upon
my mind ; but in the name of the Lord, they
were at length quite dispelled and scattered.
And Oh ! that I could love and bless Him,
who is my deliverer and strength, my rock
and fortress, where I have now found safety
frcrr these incursions ; and I am very con-
fident you shall very shortly find the same ;
only wait patiently on the Lord, and hope
in him, for you shall yet praise him for the help
of his countenance ; and it is that alone that
it, yet I would have seen you, if I could can enlighten you, and clear your mind of
have presumed it might have been any way all those fogs and mists that now possess it,
useful for the quieting of your mind ; however,
since I heard of your condition, I cease not
daily, as I can, to present it to Him, whoalone
can effectually speak peace to your heart, and I
am confident, in due time, will do so. It is
he that stilleth the raging of the sea ; and,
and calm the storms that are raised within
it. You do well to read good books that arc
proper for your help, but rather the shortest
and plainest, than the more tedious and vo-
luminous, that sometimes entangle a perplex-
ed mind yet more, by grasping many more
LETTERS, &c.
34?
questions, and answers, and arguments, than
is needful ; but, above all, still cleave to the
incomparable spring of light and divine com-
fort, the Holy Scriptures, even in despite of
all doubts concerning them ; and when you
find your thoughts in disorder, and at a loss,
entertain no dispute with them, by any means,
at that time, but rather divert from them to
short prayer, or to other thoughts, and some-
times to well chosen company, or the best you
can have where you are ; and at some ether
time, when you find yourself in a calmer and
serener temper, and upon the vantage ground
of a little more confidence in God, then you
may resume your reasons against unbelief,
yet so as to beware of casting yourself into
new disturbance ; for when your mind is in
a sober temper, there is nothing so suitable
to its strongest reason, nothing so wise and
noble, as religion ; and believe it is so ra-
tional, that, as now I am framed, I am afraid
that my belief proceeds too much from reason,
and is not so divine and spiritual as I would
have it ; only when I find (as in some mea-
sure through the grace of God I do,) that it
hath some real virtue and influence upon my
affections and track of life, I hope there is
somewhat of a higher tincture in it ; but, in
point of reason, I am well assured, that all
I have heard from the wittiest atheists and
libertines in the world, is nothing but bold
reverie and madness, and their whole dis-
course a heap of folly and ridiculous non-
sense : for, what probable account can they
give of the wonderful frame of the visible
world, without the supposition of an eternal
and infinite power, and wisdom, and good-
ness, that formed it and themselves, and all
things in it ? And what can they think of
the many thousands of martyrs in the first
age of Christianity, that endured not simple
death, but all the inventions of the most ex-
quisite tortures, for their belief of that most
holy faith; which, if the miracles that con-
firmed it had not persuaded them to, they
themselves had been thought the most pro-
digious miracles of madness in all the world ?
It is not want of reason on the side of re-
ligion that makes fools disbelieve it, but
the interest of their brutish lusts and disso-
lute lives makes them wish it were not true :
and there is the vast difference betwixt you
and them ; they would gladly beheve less
,han they do, and you would also gladly
Believe more than they do : they are some-
times pained and tormented with appre-
hensions, that the doctrine of religion is or
may be true ; and you are perplexed with
suggestions to doubt of it, which are to you
as unwilling and unwelcome, as these appre-
hensions of its truth are to them. Believe
it, Madam, these different thoughts of yours,
are not yours, but his that inserts them, and
throws them, as fiery darts, into your mind ;
and they shall assuredly be laid to his charge,
and not to yours. Think you, that infinite
goodness is ready to take advantage of his
poor creatures, and to reject and condemn
those, that, against all the assaults made upon
them, desire to keep their heart for him, and
to acknowledge him, and to love him, and
live to him. He made us, and knows our
mould, and, as a father pities his children,
he pities them that fear him ; for he is their
father, and the tenderest and kindest of all
fathers ; and, as a father pities his child when
it is sick, and in the rage and reverie of a
fever, though it even utter reproachful words
against himself, shall not our dearest Father
both forgive and pity those thoughts in any
child of his, that arise not from any wilful
hatred of him, but are kindled in hell within
them ? And no temptation hath befallen
you in this, but that which has been incident
to men, and to the best of men ; and their
heavenly Father hath not only forgiven them,
but in due time hath given them an happy
issue out of them, and so he will assuredly
do to you ; in the mean time, when these
assaults come thickest and violentest upon
you, throw yourself down at his footstool,
and say, " O God, father of mercies, save
me from this hell within me. I acknowledge,
I adore, I bless thee, whose throne is in
heaven, with thy blessed Son and crucified
Jesus, and thy Holy Spirit, and also, though
thou slay me, yet will I trust in thee : but
I cannot think thou canst hate and reject a
poor soul that desires to love thee, and cleave
to thee, so long as I can hold by the skirts
of thy garments, until thou violently shake
me off, which I am confident thou would not
do, because thou art love and goodness
itself, and thy mercies endure for ever."
Thus, or in what other frame your soul
shall be carried to vent itself into his bosom,
be sure your words, yea, your silent sigh*
and breathings shall not be lost, but shall
have a most powerful voice, and ascend into
his ear, and shall return to you with mes-
sages of peace and love in due time, and,
in the mean time, with secret supports,
that you faint not, nor sink in those deeps
that threaten to swallow you up. But I
have wearied you, instead of refreshing
you. I will add no more, but that the
poor prayers of one of the most tn worth)
caitiffs in the world, such as thev be, shall
not be wanting on your behalf, and he begs
a share in yours ; for neither you, nor any
in the world, needs tint, charity more than
lie does. Wait on the Lord, and be of
go'jd courage, and he shall strengthen your
heart : wait, I say, on the Lord.
Letter to the Heritors of the Parish of
Straton.
WORTHY GENTLEMEN AND FRIENDS,
Being informed that it is my duty to pro-
•3J8 LETTERS, &c.
sent a person fit for the charge of the ministry
now vacant with you, I have thought of one
whose integrity and piety I am so fully per-
suaded of, that I dare confidently recommend
him to you as one who, if the hand of God
do bind that work upon him amongst you,
is likely, through the blessing of the same
hand, to be very serviceable to the building
up of your souls heavenwards, but is as far
from suffering himself to be obtruded, as I
am for obtruding any upon you : so that
unless you invite him to preach, and after
hearing of him, declare your consent aiiv'
desire towards his embracing of the call, you
may be secure from the trouble of -hearing
any further concerning him, either from him-
self or me ; and if you please let me know, i
your mind, your reasonable satisfaction sliail
be to my utmost power endeavoured, by
Your affectionate Friend, and
humble Servant,
R. LEIGHTON.
The person's name is Mr. James Aird ;
he was minister at Ingram in Northumber-
land, and is lately removed from thence, and
is now at Edinburgh. If you write to him,
direct it to be delivered to Hugh Paterson,
writer in Edinburgh, near the cross, on the
north side of the street.
This, if you please, may be communicated
to such of the inhabitants of the parish as
you shall think fit.
SERMONS.
SERMONS.
SERMON I.
MANY and great are the evils that lodge
within the heart of man, and they come forth
abundantly both by the tongue and by the
hand, yet the heart is not emptied of them ;
yea, the more it vent them outwardly, the
more they increase within. Well might he
that knew the heart so well, call it an evil
treasure- We find the prophet Ezekiel in
his 8th chap, led by the Lord in vision to
Jerusalem, to view the sins of the Jews that
remained in time of the Captivity ; when he
had shewed him one abomination, he caused
him to dig through the wall, to enter and dis-
cover more, and so directed him several times,
from one place to another, and still said, /
will show Ikee yet greater abominations.
Thus is it with those whom the Lord leads
into an examination of their own hearts (for
men are usually strangers to themselves) ; by
the light of his word and Spirit going before
them, he lets them see heaps of abomination*
in every room, and the vilest in the most re-
tired and darkest corners ; and truly, should
he leave them there, they would despair of
remedy. No, he makes this discovery on
purpose that they should sue to him for help.
Do so, then, as many as have taken any
notice of the evils of your own hearts : tell
the Lord they are his own works. He form-
ed the heart of man within him, and they are
his own choice too : My son, give me thy
heart. Entreat him to redress all those abus-
es wherewith Satan and sin have filled it,
and then, to take possession of it himself, for
therein consists its happiness. This is, or
should be, a main end of our resortings to
his house and service. W rong not yourselves
so far as to turn these serious exercises of re-
ligion into an idle divertisement. What a
happiness were it, if every time you come to
nis solemn worship, some of your strongest
sins did receive a new wound, and some of
your weakest graces a new strength 1
JAMES iii. 17-
But the Wisdom that is from above, is first
pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to
be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits,
without partiality, and without hypocrisy.
GOD doth know, that in the day that ye
shall eat thereof, your eyes shall be opened,
and ye shall be as gods, knowing good ind
evil, Gen. iii. 5, was the first hissing of that
old serpent by which he poisoned mankind
in the root. Man, not contented with the im-
pression of God's image in which he was
created, lost it by catching at a shadow ;
climbing higher than his station, he fell far
below it : seeking to be more than man, to
become as God, he made himself less than
man. He lodged not a night in honour,
but became as the beasts that perish, Psalm
xlix. 12. Ever since, nature's best wisdom
is full of impurity, turbulency, and distemper ;
nor can any thing rectify it, but a wisdom
from above, that both cleanseth and compcs-
eth the soul : i* is first pure, and then pence-
able.
This epistle, as some that follow, is called
general, both by reason of the dispersion of
the parties to whom it is addressed, and tb-
universality of the subject which it treats :
containing a great number (if not all) of the
necessary directions and comforts of a Chris-
tian's life, both from the active and passive
part of it. It is evident that the apostle's
main design is, to arm the dispersed Jews
against all kinds of temptations, both those
of affliction, in chapter i. 2, and sinful temp.
tatiuus, verse 13. And having discoursed
of two special means of strengthening them
against both, speaking to God in prayer, and
hearing God speak in his word, in the two
last verses of that 1st chap, he recommends,
as chief duties of religion, and sure evidences
of integrity in religion, first, meekness and
moderation chiefly in their speeches, and
then charity and purity in their actions ;
insisting largely upon the latter, in the 2d
chapter, and upon the former, the ruling of
the tongue, in his 3d chapter ; and here to-
wards the end of it, he shows the true oppo-
site spring of miscarriage in speech and ac«
S.-52
SERMON 1.
tion, *r.d of right ordering and regulating of
ooth. Evil conversation, strifes, and envy-
ings, are the fruits of a base wisdom that is
earthly, sensual, and devilish, ver. 15 ; but
purity, meekness, and mercy, are the proper
effects and certain signs of heavenly wisdom.
The wisdom that is from above, is first
pure ; its gentleness can agree with any
thing except impurity: then it is peaceable ;
it offends nobody, except purity offend them :
it is not raging and boisterous. It is not only
pure, being void of that mire and dirt which
the wicked are said to cast out like the sea,
Isa. Ivii. 20, but peaceable likewise ; not
swelling and restless like the sea, as is there
said of the wicked. Nor is it only peaceable
negativel' ,not offending r,but as the word bears,
iigtivix.*, pacific, disposed to make and seek
peace ; and as it readily offends none, so is it
not easily offended. It is gentle and moderate,
and if offended,
easily
intreated to forgive : and as it easily pass-
eth by men's offences, so it doth not pass-
by, but looks upon their distresses and
wants, as full of compassion, as it is free from
unruly and distempered passions. Nor rests it
in an affecting sympathy ; its mercy is helpful,
full of mercy and good fruits : and it both
forgives and pities and gives : without par-
tiality, and without hypocrisy [aSue.xviTac xai
awroxire;.] The word aluiKoiT/>s niay as
Wisdom from above. There be two things
in that : there is the general term of wisdom
common to divers sorts of wisdom, though
most eminently and truly belonging to this
best wisdom. Then there is the birth or
original of this wisdom, serving as its
ence to specify and distinguish it from all the
rest — wisdom from above. Wisdom in the
general is a very plausible word among
men. Who is there that would not willing-
ly pass for wise ? Yea often those that are
least of all such, are most desirous to be ac-
counted such ; and where this fails them,
they usually make up that want in their own
conceit, and strong opinion. Nor do men
only thus love the reputation of wisdom,
but they naturally desire to be wise, as they
do to be happy ; yet through corrupt nature's
blindness, they do as naturally mistake and
fall short both of the one and the other ; and
being once wrong, the more progress they
make, they are further out of the way : and
pretending to wisdom in a false way, they
still befool themselves, as the apostle speaks,
Rom. i. 22 : <paffx/>vrt^ livai <roip/>i i[/,ta/iav6nfa.v)
professing themselves to be wise, they became
fools.
Our apostle, ver. 15, speaking of that wick-
ed wisdom that is fruitful of wrongs, strifes,
and debates, and that is only abusively to
be called wisdom, shews what kind of wis-
well bear another sense, no less suiting both | doni it is, by three notable characters, earth-
with his wisdom and these its other qml\- ly, natural, and devilish ; which though
ties ; that is, not taking upon it a censoiieus
discerning and judging of others. They
that have most of this wisdom are least rigid
to those who have less of it. I know no
better evidence of strength in grace, than to
bear much with those that are weak in it.
And, lastly, as it spares the infirmities of
others, so it makes not false and vain shows
of its own excellencies ; it is without hypo-
crisy. This denies two things, both dissi-
mulation and ostentation. The art of ditsem-
bling or hypocrite craft is no part of this wis-
dom ; and for the other, ostentation, surely
the air of applause is too light a purchase
for solid wisdom. The works of this wisdom
may be seen, yea they should be seen, and
may possibly be now and then recommended ;
but they should not be done for that low end,
either to be seen or to be commended.
Surely, no, being of so noble extraction ;
this having descended from heaven, will be
little careful for the estimation of those that
are of the earth, and are but too often of the
earth, earthly.
The due order of handling these particu-
lars more fully cannot well be missed : doubt-
less the subject, wisdom from above j requires
our first consideration ; next, the excellent
qualities that are attributed to it ; and lastly,
their order is to be considered, the rather be-
cause so clearly expressed— -first pure, then
peaceable. &c.
they be here jointly attributed to one and the
same subject, yet we may make use of them
to signify some differences of false wisdom.
There is an infernal, or devilish wisdom,
proper for contriving cruelties and oppressions,
or subtile shifts and deceits, that make
atheism a main basis and pillar of state poli-
cy ; such are those that devise mischief upon
their beds, &c. Mic. ii. 1. This is serpen-
tine wisdom, not joined with, but most op-
posite to the dove-like simplicity. There is
an earthly wisdom that draws not so deep in
impiety as th»* other, yet is sufficient to keep
a man out of all acquaintance with God and
divine matters, and is drawing his eye per-
petually downwards ; employing him in the
pursuit of such things as cannot fill the soul
except it be with anguish and vexation, Ezek.
xxviii. 4, 5. That dexterity of gathering
riches, when it is not attended with the Chris-
tian art of right using them, abases men's
souls, and indisposes them wholly for this
wisdom that is from above. There is a
natural wisdom far more plausible than the
other two, more harmless than that hellish
wisdom, and more refined than that earthly
wisdom, yet no more able to make man holy
and happy than they ; natural •J,t/%ixti : it is
the word the apostle St. Paul useth, 1 Cor.
ii. 14,
s, naming the natural
man by his better part, his soul ; intimating
that the soul, even in the highest faculty of it.
SERMON I.
353
the understanding, and that in the highest led with the amiable countenance of his
pitch of excellency to which nature can raise Father in him reconciled. No man hath
it, is blind in spiritual objects : things that
are above it, cannot be known but by a wis-
dom from above. Nature neither affords this
wisdom, nor can it of itself acquire it. This
is to advertise us, that we mistake not mora-
lity and common knowledge, even of divine
things, for the wisdom that is from above.
This may raise a man high above the vulgar,
as the tops of the highest mountains leave
the valleys below them ; yet is it still as far
short of true supernatural wisdom, as the
highest earth is of the highest sphere. There
is one main point of the method of this wis-
dom that is of most hard digestion to a natu-
ral man, and the more natural wise he be,
the worse he likes it — If any man would be
wise, let him become a fool, that he may
become wise, 1 Cor. iii. 18. There is
nothing gives nature a greater prejudice
against religion than this initial point of beauty of purity ; as the philosopher said of
self-denial : when men of eminent learning
or the strong politicians hear, that if they
will come to Christ, they must renounce
their own wisdom to be fit for his, many of
them go away as sorrowful as the young man,
when he heard of selling all his goods and
giving them to the poor.
Jesus Christ is that eternal and substan-
tial wisdom that came from above, to deliver
men from perishing in their affected folly, as
you find it at large, Prov. viii. St. Paul in
the 1st chap, of his first epistle to the Corin-
thians calls him the wisdom of God, ver. 24 ;
that shews his excellency in himself; and
ver. 30, he tells us that he is made of God
our wisdom ; that shews his usefulness to us ;
and by him alone is this infused wisdom from
above conveyed to us — In him are hid the
treasures of wisdom and knowledge, Col.
ii. 3. And from his fulness (if at all) we
all receive grace for grace ; and of all graces,
first some measures of this wisdom, without
which no man can know himself, much less
can he know God. Now this supernatural
wisdom hath in it both speculation and pru-
dence. It is contemplative and practical.
These two must not be separated, / wisdom
dwell with prudence, Prov. viii, 12. This
wisdom in its contemplative part reads Christ
much, and discovers in him a new world of
hidden excellencies unknown to this old
world. There are treasures of wisdom in
him, Col. ii. 3, but they are hid, and no
eye sees them but that which is enlightened
with this wisdom : no, it is impossible, as
one says,* T« 3-s/a yiaint Koo-rreiro; Stoa, to
know divine things while God concealeth
them But when the renewed understanding
cf a ( 'hristian is once initiated into this study,
it both grows daily more and more apprehen-
sive, and Christ becomes more communica-
tive of himself, and makes the soul acquaint-
* Sophocles.
seen God at any time ; the only -begotten
Son, which is in the bosom of the Father,
he hath declared him, St. John i. 18,
What wonder if the unlettered and despised
Christian know more of the mysteries of
heaven than the naturalist, though both
wise and learned ? Christ admits the believ-
er into his bosom, and he is in the bosom
of the Father. But withal know, that all
this knowledge, though speculatively high,
yet descends to practice ; as it learns what
God is, so it thence teacheth man what he
should be : this wisdom flows from heaven,
and a heavenly conversation flows from it,
as we find it there charactered by these prac-
tical graces of purity, peace, meekness, &c.
This wisdom represents to us, the purity
of God's nature, 1 John iii. 3. It gives
the soul an eye to see the comeliness and
virtue, to the end it might be loved, he
would wish no more but that it could be
seen. And as it thus morally persuades, so
by an insensible virtue it assimilates the soul
to Christ, by frequent contemplation. It
also produces all the motives to holiness and
obedience ; it begets these precious qualities
in the soul ; it giveth a Christian a view of
the matchless virtues that are in Christ, and
stirs him up to a diligent, though imperfect
imitation of them ; it sets before us Christ's
spotless purity, in whose mouth there was no
guile, and so invites us to purity ; it repre-
sents the perpetual calmness of his spirit,
that no tempest could reach to disturb it ;
in his mouth there was no contentious noise,
his voice was not heard in the streets, and
this recommends peaceableness and gentle'
ness, and so in the rest here mentioned.
Hence I conceive may be fitly learned for
our use, seeing here is a due wisdom and
knowledge necessary for guidance, and direct-
ing in the ways of purity and peace ; it is
evident that gross ignorance cannot consist
with the truth of religion, much less can it
be a help and advantage to it. I shall ne-
ver deny that a false superstitious religion
stands in need of it ; " not too much Scrip-
ture-wisdom for the people." The pomp of
that vain religion, like court masks, shews
best by candle-light ; fond nature likes it
well ; the day of spiritual wisdom would
discover its imposture too clearly. But to
let their foul devotion pass, (for such it must
needs be that is born of so black a mother as
ignorance,) let this wisdom at least be jus-
tified of those that pretend to be her children.
It is lamentable that amongst us, where
knowledge is not withheld, men should
through sloth and love of darkness, deprive
th emselves of it. What abundance of almost
brutish ignorance is amongst the commons ;
and thence uncleanness, and all manner of
Z
SERMON I.
wickedness ; a darkness that both hides and
increaseth impurity I What is the reason
of so much impiety and iniquity in all places,
but the Want of the knowledge of God ?
Hosea iv. 1, 2, and 2 Thess. i. 8, not know-
ing Jcsuf Christ, and not obeying his gos-
pel, are joined together. It will be found
true, that where there is no obedience there
is no right knowledge of Christ : hut out of
all question, where there is not a competency
of knowledge, there can be no obedience ;
and as these two lodge together, so observe
what attends them both, ibid. : He shall
come in flaming fire, to render vengeance on
them that know not God, and that obey not
the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ.
And if there be any that think to shroud
unpunished amongst the thickets of igno-
rance, especially amidst the means of know-
ledge, take notice of this, though it may hide
the deformity of sin from your own sight for
a time, it cannot palliate it from the piercing
eye, nor cover it from the revenging hand of
divine justice. As you would escape then
that wrath to come, come to wisdom's school ;
and how simple soever 'ye be as to this world,
if you would not perish with the world, learn
to be wise unto salvation.
And truly it is mainly important for this
effect, that the ministersof the gospel be active
and dexterous in imparting this wisdom to
their people. If they would have their con-
versation to be holy, and peaceable, and fruit-
ful, &c., the most expedient way is once to
principle them well in the fundamentals of
religion, for therein is their great defect.
How can they walk evenly and regularly so
ling as they are in the dark ? One main thing
is to be often pointing at the way to Christ,
the fountain of this wisdom- Without this,
you bid them to be clothed, and clothe them
not.
How needful then is it that pastors them-
selves be seers indeed, as the prophets were
called of old ; not only faithful but wise dis-
pensers, as our Saviour speaks, St. Luke xii.
42. That they be ^iSaxTix-i, able, and apt
to teach, 1 Tim. iii. 2. Laudable is the
prudence that tries much the churches' store-
houses, the seminaries of learning ; but with-
al, it is not to be forgot, that as a due furni.
ture of learning is very requisite for this em-
ployment, so it is not sufficient. When one
is duly enriched that way, there is yet one
thing wanting that grows not in schools ; ex-
cept this infused wisdom from above season
and satisfy all other endowments, they remain
xtiw, common and unholy, and therefore un-
fit for the sanctuary. Amongst other weak
pretences to Christ's favour in the last day,
this is one — We have preached in thy name ;
yet says Christ, I never knew you ; surely
then thej- knew not him, and yet they preach-
ed him. Cold and lifeless (though never so
tine and 'veil contrived) must those discourses
be, that are of an unknown Christ. Pastors
are called angels, and therefore, though they
use the secondary helps of knowledge, they
are mainly to bring their message from above,
from the fountain, the head of this pure wis-
dom.
Pure. If it come from above it must needs
be pure originally, yea it is formally pure too,
being a main trait of God's renewed image
in the soul. By this wisdom the understand-
ing is both refined and strengthened to en-
tertain right -conceptions of God in his nature
and works. And this is primarily necessary,
that the mind be not infected with false
opinions in religion : if the spring-head be
polluted, the streams cannot be pure ; it is
more important than men usually think for
a good life. But that which I suppose is
here chiefly intended, is, that it is effectively
and practically pure, it purifies the heart,
Acts xv. 9, (said of faith, which in some
sense and acceptation differs not much from
this wisdom,) and consequently the words
and actions that flow from the heart.
This purity some render chastity. The
wisdom from above is chaste, a>>«. The
word is indeed often so taken, and includes
that here, but it is too narrow a sense to re-
strict it to that only. It is here an universal
detestation of all impurity, both of flesh and
spirit, as the apostle speaks, 2 Cor. vii. 1.
Pride, self-love, profaneness of spirit and ir-
religion, though they do not so properly pol-
lute the body as carnal uncleanness ; yet they
do no less defile the soul, and make it abo-
minable in the sight of God. Those apos-
tate angels called unclean spirits, are inca-
pable of bodily defilement ; (though indeed
they tempt and inveigle men to it ;) their own
inherent pollutions must needs be spiritual,
for they are spirits. Idolatry in scripture
goes often under the name of fornication and
adultery, and indeed these sins may mutually
borrow and lend their names the one to the
other ; idolatry may well be called spiritual
unchastity ; and unchaste love, carnal ido-
latry. Earthly mindedness likewise is an im-
purity of the soul : in the apostle's phrase,
covetousness is idolatry, and so a spiritual
pollution ; yet it may well share with ido-
latry in its borrowed name, and be called
adultery too ; for it misbestows the soul's
prime affection upon the creature, which by
right is God's peculiar.
This purity that true wisdom works is
contrary to all pollution. We know then in
some measure what it is ; it rests to inquire
where it is, and there is the difficulty ; it is
far easier to design it in itself, than to find
it among men. Who can say, / have made
my heart clean ? Prov. xx. 9. Look upon
the greatest part of mankind, and you may
know at first sight, that purity is not to be
looked for among them ; they suffer it not to
come near them, much less to dwell with
SERMON I.
355
them and within them ; they hate the very
semblance of it in others, and themselves de-
light in intemperance and all manner of li-
centiousness, like foolish children striving
who shall go furthest into the mire ; these
cannot say, they have made clean their hearts,
for all their words and actions will belie them.
If you come to the mere moralist, the world's
honest man, and ask him, it may be he will
tell you, he hath cleansed his heart ; but
believe him not. It will appear he is not
yet cleansed, because he says he has done it
himself, for (you know) .there must be some
other, besides man, at this work. Again he
rising no higher than nature, hath none of
this heavenly wisdom in him, and therefore
is without this purity too. But if you chance
to take notice of some well-skilled hypocrite,
every thing you meet with makes you almost
confident, that there is purity ; yet if he be
strictly put to it, he may make some good
account of the pains he hath taken to refine
his tongue and his public actions, but he
dare not say he hath made clean his heart ;
it troubles his peace to be asked the question.
He never intended to banish sin, but to re-
tire it to his innermost and best room, that
so it might dwell unseen within him ; and
where then should it lodge but in his heart ?
Yet possibly because what is outward is so
fair, and man cannot look deeper to contra-
dict him, he may embolden himself to say,
he is inwardly suitable to his appearance ;
but there is a day at hand that shall, to his
endless shame, at once discover both his se-
cret impurity and his impudence in denying
it.
After these, there follow a few despised
and melancholy persons (at least as to out-
ward appearance) who are almost always
hanging down their heads, and complaining
of abundant sinfulness. And sure, purity
cannot be expected in these who are so far
from it by their own confession ; yet the truth
is, that such purity as is here below, will
either be found to lodge among these, or no
where. Be not deceived ; think not that
they who loathe, and (as they can) fly from
the unholiness of the world, are therefore
taken with the conceit of their own holiness ;
but as their perfect purity of justification is
by Christ's imputed righteousness, so likewise
they will know, and do always acknowledge,
that their inherent holiness is from above too,
from the same fountain, Jesus Christ. The
wisdom from above is pure, this is their en-
gagement to humility, for it excludes vaunt-
ing and boasting ; and besides that, it is im-
perfect, troubled and stained with sin, which
is enough to keep them humble. Their
daily sad experience will not suft'er them to
be so mistaken ; their many faults of infirmi-
ty, cannot but keep them from this presump-
tuous fault. There is a generation indeed
uiat is pure in their own eyes, ( Prov. xxx.
12,) but they are such as are not washed
from their Jilthiness. They that are wash-
ed, are still bewailing, that they again con-
tract so much defilement. The most puri.
fied Christians are they that are most sensible
of their impurity. Therefore I called not
this an universal freedom from pollution, but
an universal detestation of it : they that are
thus pure are daily defiled with many sins,
but they cannot be in love with any sin a«
all, nor do they willingly dispense with the
smallest sins, which a natural man either sees
not to be sin, (though his dim moon-light
discovers grosser evils,) or if he does see
them, yet he judges it too much niceness to
choose a great inconvenience rather than a
little sin. Again they differ in another par-
ticular ; a natural man may be so far in love
with virtue after his manner, as to dislike his
own faults and resolve to amend them, but
yet he would think it a great weakness to sit
down and mourn for sin, and to afflict his
soul, as the Scripture speaks. The Chris-
tian's repentance goes not so lightly ; there
is a great deal more work in it, 2 Cor. vii.
11. There is not only indignation against
impurity, but it proceeds to revenge. The
saints we read of in Scripture were ashamed
of their impurity, but never of their tears for
it. Let the world enjoy their own thoughts,
and account it folly ; yet sure the Christian
that delights in purity, seeing he cannot be
free from daily sin, when he retires himself
at night, is then best contented when his
eyes serve him most plentifully to weep out
the stains of the by-past day ; yet he knows
withal, that it is only his Redeemer's blood
that takes away the guilt of them. This is
the condition of those that are truly, thougii
not yet fully cleansed from the pollutions of
the world, by the spirit of wisdom and purity.
What mean they then, that would argue
themselves out of this number, because they
find yet much dross left, and that they are
not so defecated and refined as they would
wish to be ? On the contrary, this hatred of
pollution testifies strongly that the contrary
of it, purity, is there ; and, though its be-
ginnings be small, doubt not, it shall in the
end be victorious ; the smoking of this flax
shews .indeed that there is gross matter there,
but it witnesseth likewise that there is fire in
it too; and though it be little, we have
Christ's own word for it, that it shall not be
quenched ; and if he favour it, no other
power shall be able to quench it. You find
not indeed absolute holiness in your persons,
nor in your best performances ; yet if you
breathe and follow after it, if the pulse of the
heart beats thus, if the main current of your
affection be towards purity, if sin be in you
as your disease and greatest grief, and not as
your delight, then take courage, you are cs
pure as travellers can be ; and notwithstand-
ing that impure spirit, Satan, and the im-
35C
SERMON II.
purity of your own spirits, vex you daily with
temptations, and often foil you, yet in despite
of them all, you shall arrive safe at home,
where perfection dwells.
Wisdom from above is pure. Be asham-
ed then of your extreme folly, you that take
pleasure in any kind of uncleanness, especial-
ly seeing God hath reformed and purged his
house amongst us : you that are, or should
be his living temples, remain not unreformed ;
if you do, church-reformation will be so far
from profiting you, that, as a clearer light, it
will but serve to make your impurity both
more visible and more inexcusable. If you
mean that the Holy Ghost should dwell with
you, entertain him, avoiding both spiritual
and fleshly pollutions. The word here used
doth more particularly signify chastity ; and
certainly wherever this wisdom from above is,
this comely grace is one of her attendants.
Whatever any have been in times past, let
all be persuaded henceforth to mortify all
lustful and carnal affections ; know that there
is more true and lasting pleasure in the con-
tempt of unlawful pleasures, than in the en-
joyment of them. Grieve not, then, the good
Spirit of God with actions or speeches, yea,
or with thoughts that are impure. The un-
holy soul, like the mystical Babylon, Apoc.
xiii., makes itself a cage of unclean birds
and an habitation of filthy spirits ; and if it
continues to be such, it must, when it dis-
lodges, take up its habitation with cursed
spirits for ever in utter darkness. But as for
those that are sincerely and affectionately pure,
that is, pure in heart, our Saviour hath pro-
nounced their begun happiness — Blessed are
they that are pure in heart ; and assured
them of full happiness, for they shall see
God. This wisdom is sent from heaven on
purpose to guide the elect thither by the way
of purity. And mark how well their reward
is suited to their labour ; their frequent con-
templating and beholding of God's purity as
they could, while they were on their journey,
and their labouring to be like him, shall
bring them to sit down in glory, and to be
for ever the pure beholders of that purest ob-
ject : They shall see God. What this is we
cannot tell you, nor can you conceive it ;
but walk heavenwards in purity, and long to
be there, where you shall know what it means ;
for you shall see him as he is.
Now to that blessed Trinity be praise for
ever.
SERMON II.
PREFACE.
/ will return to my place, (saith the Lord
by his prophet,) till they acknowledge their
offence, and seek my face In their ajflic-
tion they will seek me early, Hos. v. 15.
The Father of mercies hides himself from his
children, not to lose them, but that they may
seek him, and may learn, having found him,
to keep closer by him than formerly. He
threatens them, to keep them from punish-
| ment ; if his threatening work submission,
it is well ; if not, he punishes them gently,
' to save them from destruction. He seeks no
' more, but that they acknowledge their offence,
' and seek his face. Wonderful clemency !
for who can forbear to confess multitudes of
j offences, that know themselves ? And who
, can choose but seek thy face, that ever saw
j thy face, and that know thee ? In their af-
\jliction they will seek me early. He that
: prays not till affliction comes and forces him
' to it, is very slothful ; but he that prays not
j in affliction, is altogether senseless. Certain-
ly they that at this time are not more than
ordinarily fervent in prayer, or do not at least
desire and strive to be so, cannot well think
that there is any spiritual life within them.
Sure it is high time to stir up ourselves to
prayers and tears. All may bear arms in
that kind of service. Weak women may be
strong in prayer ; and those tears, wherein
they usually abound upon other occasions,
cannot be so well spent as this way. Let
them not run out in bowlings and impatience,
but bring them, by bewailing sins, private as
well as public, to quench this public fire.
And ye men, yea, ye men of courage, account
it no disparagement thus to weep. We read
often of David's tears, which was no stain
to his valour. That cloud that hangs over
us, which the frequent vapours of our sins
have made, except it dissolve and fall down
again in these sweet showers of godly tears,
is certainly reserved to be the matter of a
dreadful storm. Be instant every one in
secret for the averting of this wrath, and let
us now again unite the cries of our hearts for
this purpose to our compassionate God, in
the name and mediation of his Son, the Lord
Jesus Christ.
JOB xxxiv. 31, 32.
Surely it is meet to be said unto God, I
have borne chastisement, I will not of"
fend any more. That which I see not,
teach thou me : if I have done iniquity,
I will do no more.
THE great sin, and the great misery of
man is, the forgetting of God ; and the great
end and use of his works and of his word is,
to teach us the right remembrance and con-
sideration of him in all estates. These words
do particularly instruct us in the application
of pur thoughts towards him in the time of
affliction. The shortness and the various
SERMON II.
357
signification of the words used in the origi-
nal, gives occasion to some other readings and
another sense of them. But this we have in
our translation, being not only very profita-
ble, but very congruous both to the words of
the primitive text, and to the contexture of
the discourse ; I shall keep to it, without di-
viding your thoughts by the mentioning of
any other. Neither will I lead you so far
about as to speak of the great dispute of this
book, and the question about which it is
held. He that speaks here, though the
youngest of the company, yet, as a wise and
calm-spirited man, closes all with a discourse
of excellent temper, and full of grave, use-
ful instructions, amongst which this is one : —
Surely it is meet to be said, or spoke, to
God. This speaking to God, though it may
be vocal, yet it is not necessarily nor chiefly
so, but is always mainly, and may often be,
only mental ; without this, the words of the
mouth, how well chosen and well expressed
soever they be, are to God of no account or
signification at all. But if the heart speak,
even when there is not a word in the mouth,
it is that he hearkens to, and regards that
speech, though made by a voice that none
hears but he, and is a language that none
understands but he.
But it is a rare, unfrequented thing, this
communing of the heart with God, speaking
its thoughts to him concerning itself, and con-
cerning him and his dealing with it, and the
purposes and intentions it hath towards him ;
which is the speech here recommended, and
is that divine exercise of meditation, and
soliloquy of the soul with itself, and with
God, hearkening what the Lord God speaks
to us, within us, and our hearts echoing and
resounding his words, as Psalm xxvii. 8, 9,
and opening to him our thoughts of them,
and of ourselves. Though they stand open,
and he sees them all, even when we tell him
not of them, yet because he loves us, he loves
to hear them of our own speaking ; let me
hear thy .voice, for it is sweet ; as a father
delights in the little stammering, lisping lan-
guage of his beloved child. And if the re-
flex affection of children be in us, we will
love also to speak with our Father, and to
tell him all our mind (vafpniria), and to
be often with him in the entertainments of
our secret thoughts.
But the most of men are little within ;
either they wear out their hours in vain dis-
course with others, or possibly vainer dis-
courses with themselves ; even those that are
not of the worst sort, and possibly that have
their times of secret prayer, yet do not so de-
light to think of God and to speak with him,
as they do to be conversant in other affairs
and companies, and discourses, in which
there is a great deal of froth and emptiness.
Men think, by talking of many things, to
be refreshed, and yet when they have done,
find that it is nothing ; and that they had
much better have been alone, or have said
nothing. Our thoughts and speeches in most
things run to waste, yea are defiled, as water
spilt on the ground, is both lost, cannot be
gathered up again, and it is polluted, min.
gled with dust. But no word spoken to God,
from the serious sense of a holy heart, is lost ;
he receives it, and returns it into our bosom
witli advantage : a soul that delights to speak
to him, will find that he also delights to speak
to it. And this communication certainly is
the sweetest and happiest choice, to speak
little with men, and much with God. One
short word, such as this here, spoken to God,
in a darted thought, eases the heart more
when it is afflicted, than the largest dis-
courses and complainings to the greatest and
most powerful of men, or the kindest and
most friendly. It gives not only ease but joy
to say to God, / have sinned, yet I am
thine ; or as here, / have borne chastise-
ment, I will no more offend. The time of
affliction is peculiarly a time of speaking to
God, and such speech as this is peculiarly
befitting such a time. And this is one great
recommendation of affliction, that it is a time
of wiser and more sober thoughts ; a time of
the returning of the mind inwards and up-
wards. A high place, fulness and pleasure
draw the mind more outwards ; great light
and white colours disgregate the sight of the
eye, and the very thoughts of the mind too.
And men find that the night is a fitter season
for deep thoughts. It is better, says Solo-
mon, to go to the house of mourning, than
to the house of feasting : those blacks made
the mind more serious. It is a rare thing to
find much retirement unto God, much hu-
mility and brokenness of spirit, true purity
and spiritualness of heart, in the affluences
and great prosperities of the world. It is no
easy thing to carry a very full cup even, and
to digest well the fatness of a great estate and
great place. They are not to be envied that
have them ; even though they be of the bet-
ter sort of men, it is a thousand to one but
that they shall be losers by the gains and ad-
vancements of this world ; suffering propor-
tionably great abatement of their best advan-
tages by their prosperity. The generality of
men, while they are at ease, do securely ne-
glect God, and little mind either to speak to
him, or to hear him speak to them. God
complains thus of his own people, / spoke to
them in their prosperity, and they would
not Iwar. The noises of coach-wheels, of
their pleasures, and of their great affairs, so
fill their ears, that the still voice, wherein
God is, cannot be heard ; / will bring her
into the wilderness, and there I will speak
to her heart, says God of his church. There
the heart is more at quiet to hear God, and to
speak to him, and is disposed to speak in the
style here prescribed, humbly and repentingly.
368
SERMON II.
/ have lorne chastisement. The speak-
ing thus unto God under affliction signifies
that our affliction is from his hand, and tt
the acknowledgement of this truth, the verj
natural consciences of men do incline them
Though trouble be the general lot of man-
kind, yet it doth not come on him by an im-
providential fatality. Though man is born
to trouble as the sparks Jiy upwards, (Job
v, 7,) yet it comes not out of the dust. I
is no less true, and in itself no less clear
that all the good we enjoy, and all the evi
we suffer, comes from the same hand ; bu
we are naturally more sensible of evil than o
good, and therefore do more readily refleci
upon the original and causes of it. Our
distresses lead us unto the notice of the
righteous God inflicting them, and our un
righteous ways procuring them, and provok-
ing him so to do, and therefore it is mee
to speak in this submissive, humble language
to him. It is by all means necessary to speak
to him ; he is the party we have to deal with-
al, or to speak to, even in those afflictions
whereof men are the intervenient, visible
causes. They are, indeed, but instrumental
causes, the rod and staff (Heb. xii. 6,) in
his hand that smite us ; therefore our busi-
ness is with him, in whose supreme hand
alone the mitigations and increases, the con-
tinuance, and the ending of our troubles lie.
Who pave Jacob to the spoil, and Israel to
the robbers ? Did not the Lord, against
whom we have sinned? So Lam. i. 14 :
The yoke of my transgression is bound on by
his hand. Therefore it is altogether necessary
in all afflictions to speak to him, it is meet to
speak thus to him: I have borne chastisement,
f will no more offend. These words have in
them the true composition of real repentance,
humble submission, and holy resolution. /
have borne chastisement ; that is, " I have
justly borne it, and do heartily submit to it :
I bear it justly, and take it well : Lord, I ac-
quit thee, and accuse myself." This lan-
guage becomes the most innocent persons in
the world in their suffering. Job knew it
well, and did often acknowledge it in his
preceding speeches. Though sometimes in
the heat of dispute, and opposure to the un-
charitable and unjust imputations of his
friends, he seems to overstrain the assertion
of his own integrity, (which Elihu here cor-
rects,) you know he cries out, " I have
sinned against thee, what shall I do unto
thee, O thou preserver of men ?" Job vii.
20 ; and chap. ix. 30, 31 : " If I wash my-
self with snow-water, and make my hands ever
so clean, yet shalt thou plunge me in the
ditch, and mine own clothes shall abhor me."
Vain foolish persons fret and foam at the
miscarriage of a cause they apprehend to be
righteous ; but this is a great vanity and in-
considerate temerity in not observing the great
«md apparent unrighteousness in the persons
managing it. But though both the cause
and the persons were just to the greatest
height imaginable amongst men, yet still
were it meet to speak thus unto God, in the
lowest acknowledgements and confessions —
" that righteousness belongs unto him, and
unto us shame and confusion of face ;" so
says the church, Lam. i. 18, " The Lord is
righteous, for I have rebelled against his
commandments." Though affliction is not
always designedly intended as the chastise-
ment of some particular sin, yet where sin is
(and that is the case of all the sons of Adam,)
affliction coming in, may safely be consider-
ed in its natural cognation and alliance with
sin, and so press forth humble confessions of
sin, and resolutions against it. And thus,
in Lev. xxvi. 41, " They shall accept of the
punishment of their iniquity," shall take
it humbly and'penitently, and kiss the rod.
Oh ! that there were such a heart in us !
that, instead of empty words that scatter them-
selves in the wind, our many vain discourses
we hold one witli another concerning our
past and present sufferings, and further fears
and disputing of many fruitless and endless
questions, we were more abundantly turning
our speech this way, in unto God, and say.
ing, " We desire to give thee glory, and take
shame to ourselves, and to bear our chastise-
ment, and to offend no more, to return each
from his, evil way, and to gain this by the
furnace, the purging away of our dross, our
many and great iniquities, our oaths, and
cursings, and lying, our deceit and oppres-
sions, and pride, and covetousness, our base
love of ourselve i, and hating one another ;
that we may be delivered from the tyranny
of our own lusts and passions ; and in other
:hings, Let the Lord do with us as seems good
in his eyes. Speaking to God in Ephraim's
words, Jer. xxxi. 18 — 20 ; words not unlike
;hese would stir his bowels, as there ; as it
is said, that one string perfectly tuned to
another being touched, the other stirs of it-
self. When a stubborn child leaves strug-
gling under the rod, and turns to intreating,
the father then leaves striking ; nothing over-
comes him but that. When a man says
unto God, " Father, I have provoked thee
o this ; but pardon, and, through thy grace,
t will do so no more," then the rod is thrown
aside, and the Father of mercies, and his
tumble child, fall to mutual tenderness and
embraces.
What I see not, teach thou me, &c.
The great article of conversion is the dis-
engagement of the heart from the love of sin.
'n that posture, as it actually forsakes what,
soever it perceives to be amiss, so it stands
n an absolute readiness to return to every
duty that yet lies hidden, upon the first dis
covery ; that is here the genuine voice of a
2pentant sinner : What I see not, teaoh
hou met &c.
REIOION II.
359
This is a very necessary suit, even for the
most discerning and clearest-sighted penitent,
both in reference to the commandment and
rule for discovering the general nature and
several kinds of sin ; and withal, for applica-
tion of this general light to the examen of a
man's own heart and ways, that so he may
have a more exact and particular account of
his own sins.
The former is the knowledge of the laws
of God, and rule by which a man is to try
and to judge himself. The most knowing
are not above the need of this request, yea, I
am persuaded, the most knowing know best
how much they need it, and are most hum-
bled in themselves in the conscience of their
ignorance and darkness in divine things, and
are most earnest and pressing in this daily
supplication for increase of light and spiritual
knowledge from him who is the fountain of
it ; What I see not, teach thou me. On the
other side, the least knowing are often the
most confident that they know all, and swelled
with a conceited sufficiency of their model
and determination of all things, both dogma-
tical and practical ; and therefore are the
most imperious and magisterial in their con-
clusions, and the most impatient of contra-
diction, or even of the most modest dissent.
The wisest and holiest persons speak al-
ways in the humblest and most depressing
style of their own knowledge, and that not
with an affectation of modesty, but in the
real sense of the thing as it is, and the sin-
cere account they give of it, and that com-
monly when they are declaring themselves
most solemnly, as in the sight of God, or
speaking in supplication to him with whom
they dare least of all dissemble. Whoso-
ever he was that spake these words, Prov.
xxx. 2, 3, sure he was a man of eminent
wisdom and piety, and yet begins thus :
Surely I am more brutish than any man,
and have not the understanding of a man.
I have neither learned wisdom, nor have I
the knowledge of the holy. And though
he was so diligent a student, and so great a
proficient in the law of God, yet how im-
portunate a petitioner is he, for the under-
standing of it, as if he knew nothing at all !
Besides the like expressions in other psalms,
in this one psalm, (Ps. cxix.,) that being of
such length, hath nothing but the breath-
ing forth of his affection to the word and
law of God, how often doth he in it reite-
rate that, " Teach me thy statutes" ! so
often, that a carnal mind is tempted to grow
weary of it, as a nauseating tautology ; but
he made it still new, with the freshness and
vehemency of his affection. " Make me to
understand the way of thy precepts ; give
me understanding, and I shall keep thy law ; |
and open thou mine eyes, that I may see i
the wonders of thy law ; unseal mine eyes," ,
as if still veiled in dark. The«e are the '
earnest and nobly ambitious desires that
daily solicit holy hearts, and stir them to
solicit the teacher of hearts, to be admitted
more into the secrets and recesses of divine
knowledge, not those abysses that God in.
tends should be secret still, and from which
he hath barred out our curiosity, as the
forbidden tree of knowledge — those secrets
that belong to himself alone, and concern us
not to inquire after ; and certainly to be
wading in these deeps, is the way to be
drowned in them. The searcher of majesty
shall be oppressed with glory ; yet, there is
in man a perverse, preposterous desire, to
pore upon such things as are on purpose
hidden that we should not inquire after
them, and to seek after useless, empty spe-
culations of them, which is a luxury and in-
temperance of the understanding, like unto
that, and springing from that, which at first
undid us in the root. These are times full
of those empty, airy questions, and notions
in which there is no clearness nor certainty
to be attained, and if it were, yet would
serve to little or no purpose, not making the
man that thinks he hath found them out,
one jot the hotter or holier man than he was
before. What avails it, says that devout
author, to dispute and discourse high con-
cerning the Trinity, and want humility, and
so displease that Trinity ? The light of
knowledge, suited according to the intend-
ment of this copy, is of another nature, such
as purifies the heart and rectifies the life.
" What I see not, teach thou me," that is,
of such things as may serve this end ; " that
if I have done iniquity I may do it no more."
This is sound and solid knowledge, such a
light as inflames the heart with the love of
God, and of the beauties of holiness ; and
still, as it grows, makes those to grow
likewise. Such are still, we see, David's
multiplied supplications in that psalm ; not
to know reserved and unuseful tilings, but
Hide not thy commandments from me.
" Thy hands have made me and fashioned
me." " Now, what is that thy creature and
workmanship begs of thee ? What is that
which will complete my being, and make
me do honour to my Maker ? This is it ;
give me understanding, that I may learn thy
commandments." You that would be suc-
cessful supplicants in this request, wean
your hearts from this vanity of desire : such
knowledge is as the cypress-trees, fair and
tall, but fruitless and sapless. Apply all
you know to the purging out of sin, and in-
tend all the further knowledge you desire to
that same end. Seek to be acquainted with
higher rules of mortification and self-denial
and charity, than yet you have either prac-
tised, or, possibly, so much as thought on ;
that by these, your affections and actions
may be advanced to greater degrees of pu-
rity, and conformity with the holiness of
300
SERMON II.
God. And for this end, beg of him to
teach you what you see not in the exactness
of the law and rule ; and withal, which is
the other thing in this world, that what you
Bee not in the application of it and search of
yourself, he would likewise shew you ; for
in that, we are commonly as undiscerning
and dim-sighted as in the other, even where
men have some notion of the rule and their
duty ; yet they perceive not their own, even
their gross recessions and declinings from it.
Love is a blinding thing, and above all
love, self-love ; and every man is naturally
his own flatterer ; he deals not faithfully and
sincerely with himself in the search of his
own evils. Now, this we are to entreat of
God, to be led into ourselves, and be ap-
plied to the work of self-searching, by his
own hand, not only to have a right appre-
hension of the law given us, but a true
sight of ourselves. O ! how many hidden,
undiscerned, yea, unsuspected impurities
and follies are there in the hearts of those
that are most diligent in this inquiry, much
more in the greater part, even of such as
cannot absolutely be denied the name of
good men ! Some honest intentions and
good desires there are in them ; but they are
slothful, and unwilling to go to this painful
business of trying and judging themselves ;
and when they set to it, many secret corners,
and in those many latent inordinacies, do
escape their search. " Cleanse me from se-
cret faults," says David ; that is, not only
those hidden from men, but even from my-
self, as is clearly his meaning, by the words
preceding — " Who knows the errors of his
life ?" Therefore it is necessary that we
desire light of God. " The spirit of a man is
the candle of the Lord," says Solomon,
" searching the innermost parts of the
belly ;" but it is a candle unlighted when he
does not illuminate it for that search. Oh !
what a deal of vanity and love of this world,
envy and secret pride, lurks in many of our
hearts, that we do not at all perceive, till God
causeth us to see it, leading us in, as he did
the prophet in the vision, to see the idolatry
of the Jews in his very temple, by which
they had provoked him to forsake it, and go
far from his sanctuary; and having disco-
vered one parcel, leads him in further, and
makes him enter through the wall, and adds
often, " Son of man, hast thou seen these ?
I will cause thee to see yet more abomina-
tions." Thus is it within many of us that
should be his temples ; but we have a mul-
titude of images of jealousy, one lying hid
behind another, till he thus discover them
to us. Oh ! what need have we to entreat
him thus : " What I sea not, teach thou
me" !
Now, in both these, both in the know-
ledge of our rule and of ourselves, though
there may be some useful subserviency of
the ministry of men, yet the great teacher of
the true knowledge of his law, and of him.
self, and of ours"lves, is God. Men may
speak to the ear, but his chair is in heaven
that teaches hearts ; cathedram habet in
ccelo. Matchless teacher ! that teacheth more
in one hour than men can do in a whole
age ! that can cure the invincible unteach-
ableness of the dullest heart, give under-
standing to the simple, and open the eyes of
the blind. So, then, would we be made
wise, wise for eternity, learned in real living
divinity, let us sit down at his feet, and
make this our continual request — " What I
see not, teach thou me."
And if I have done, &c. That is, " any
iniquity that I yet know not of, any hidden
sin, let me but once see it, and I hope thou
shalt see it no more within me ; not willing-
ly lodged and entertained." This speaks
an entire, total giving up all sin, and pro-
claiming utter defiance and enmity against
it ; casting out what is already found out
without delay, and resolving that, still in
further search, as it shall be more discovered,
it shall be forthwith dislodged, without a
thought of sparing or partial indulgence to
any thing that is sin, or like it, or may any
way befriend it, or be an incentive of it.
This is that absolute renouncing of sin, and
surrender of the whole soul and our whole
selves to God, which, whosoever do not
heartily consent to and resolve on, their reli-
gion is in vain, and (which is here the
point) their affliction is in vain : whatsoever
they have suffered, they have gained nothing
by all their sufferings, if their hearts remain
still self-willed, stubborn, untamed, and un-
pliable to God. And this makes their mi,
series out of measure miserable, and their
sins out of measure sinful ; whereas, were it
thus qualified, and had it any operation this
way towards the subjecting of their hearts
unto God, affliction were not to be called
misery, but would go under the title of a
blessedness : " Blessed is the man whom
thou correctest, and teachest him out of thy
law." That suiting with this, here desired,
" I have bome chastisement : what I see
not, teach thou me ; and if I have done ini-
quity, I will do it no more." Oh ! were it
thus with us, my brethren, how might we
rejoice, and insert into our praises all that
is come upon us, if it had wrought or ad-
vanced any thing of this kind within us, this
blessed compliance with the will of God, not
entertaining any thing knowingly that dis.
pleases him ; finding a pleasure in the de-
nial and destruction of our own most beloved
pleasures at his appointment and for hip
sake, whatsoever is in us, and dearest to us,
that would offend us, that would draw us to
offend him ; were it the right hand, let it
be cut off, or the right eye, let it be plucked
out : or, to make shorter work, let the whole
SERMON III.
361
nan die at once, crucified with Jesus, " That
we may be henceforth dead to sin, dead to
the world, dead to ourselves, and alive only
to God."
SERMON III.
THERE is no exercise so delightful to
those that are truly godly as the solemn
worship of God, if they find his powerful
and sensible presence in it ; and indeed there
is nothing on earth more like to heaven than
that is. But when he withdraws himself,
and withholds the influence and breathings
of his Spirit in his service, then good souls
find nothing more lifeless and uncomfort-
able ; but there is this difference, even at
such a time, betwixt them and those that
have no spiritual life in them at all, that
they find, and are sensible of this difference ;
whereas the other know not what it means.
And for the most part, the greatest number of
those that meet together with a profession to
worship God, yet are such as do not under-
stand this difference. Custom and forma-
lity draws many to the ordinary places of
public worship, and fills too much of the
room ; and sometimes novelty and curiosity,
to places not ordinary, has a large share :
but how few are there that come on purpose
to meet with God in his worship, and to find
his power in strengthening their weak faith,
and weakening their strong corruptions ; af-
fording them provision of spiritual strength
and comfort against times of trial ; and, in
a word, advancing them some steps forward
in their journey towards heaven, where hap-
piness and perfection dwell ! Certainly these
sweet effects are to be found in these ordi-
nances, if we would look after them. Let
it grieve us then, that we have so often lost
our labour in the worship of God. through
our own neglect, and intreat the Lord, that
at this time he would not send us away
empty ; for how weak soever the means be,
if he puts his strength, the work shall be
done, in some measure, to his glory and our
edification. Now, that he may be pleased with their decline and setting, hath, by a
to do so, to leave a blessing behind him, let , special providence, determined those changes
us pray, &c. | and vicissitudes that befal his church. That
which the Psalmist speaks, in his own par-
ticular, Ps. xxxi. 14, 15, holds of each be-
liever, and of the church, which they make
ISAIAH xxviii. 5, 6 up in all ages and places : " I said, Thou
art my God ; my times are in thy hand ;" a
lit. that day shall the Lord of hosts be for \ sure and steady hand indeed, and therefore
O crown of glory, and for a diadem of he builds his confidence upon it Ver. 13.
beauty, unto the residue of his people ;\ 14. They tock counsel against me, but I
and for a spirit of judgment to him that
sitteth in judgment, and for strength to
them that turn the battle to the gate.
At.! the works of Divine Providence are
full of wisdom and justice, even every one
severally considered ; yet we observe them
best to be such, when we take notice of their
order and mutual aspect one to another, whe-
ther in the succession of times, or such pas-
sages as are contemporary, and fall in toge-
ther at one and the same time. As, when
the Lord brings notable judgments upon the
proud workers of iniquity, and, at the same
time, confers special mercies on his own
people ; who is there that may not perceive
justice and mercy illustrating and beautify-
ing one another ? It is true, the full reward
and perfect rest of the godly is not here be-
low ; they would be sorry if it were : nor is
this the place of plenary punishment for the
ungodly. Men may look for a judgment
too, yet the Lord is pleased at some times to
give some resemblances and pledges, as it
were, of that great and last judgment in re-
markable passages of justice and mercy, at
one and the same time ; and such a time it
is that the prophet foretels in this his ser-
mon, which concerns the two sister king-
doms of Israel and Judah. Having de-
nounced a heavy calamity to come upon Is-
rael, under the name of Ephraim, he com-
forts those of Judah, under the name of the
residue of his people. They not being so
grossly corrupted as the other were, he stays
them with this promise : In that day, saith
he, when the other shall be overwhelmed,
as with a deluge, the Lord of hosts shall be
for a crown of glory, and for a diadem oj
beauty, unto the residue of his people.
The promise is made up of three benefits,
yet the three are but one ; or rather, one is
all the three to them. The Lord of hosts ;
it is He that shall be their honour, wisdom,
and strength. He shall be a crown, &c.
But first, a word of the circumstance of
time, In that day.
That sovereign Lord who at first set up
the lights of heaven to distinguish times and
seasons, by their constant motion, and like-
wise, by his supreme providence ruling the
world, hath fixed the period of states and
kingdoms, and decreed their revolutions,
their rising, ascending, and their height,
362
SERMON III.
trusted in thee. And upon this, he prays
in faith, that the face of God may shine
upon him, and the wicked may be ashamed.
Thus, then, as many as are looking after
a day of mercy to the church of God, pray
and believe upon this ground, that the time
of it is neither in the frail hands of those
that favour and seek it, nor in the hands of
those that oppose it, how strong and subtile
soever they be, but in that Almighty hand
that doth in heaven and earth what pleaseth
him. If he have said, Now, and here, will
I give a day of refreshment to my people that
have long groaned for it, a day of the purity
and power of religion ; if, I say, this be his
purpose, they must have somewhat more
than omnipotence that can hinder it. When
his appointed time comes, to make a day of
deliverance dawn upon his church, after their
long night, either of affliction or of defection,
or both ; they that contrive against that day-
spring, are as vain as if they would sit down
to plot how to hinder the sun from rising in
the morning. And they that let go their
hopes of it, because of great apparent diffi-
culties that interpose betwixt their eye and
the accomplishment of that work, they are
as weak as if they should imagine, when
mists and thick vapours appear about the
horizon in the morning, that these could
hinder the rising of the sun, which is so far
out of their reach, and comes forth as a
bridegroom, and rejoices as a mighty man
to run his race, says David. Those mists
may, indeed, hinder his clear appearance,
and keep it from the eye for a time ; but
reason tells us, even then, that they cannot
stop his course. And faith assures us no
less in the other, that no difficulties can hold
back God's day and work of mercy to his
people. But you will say, " All the diffi-
culty is to know whether the appointed time
be near or not." It is true we have no par-
ticular prophecies to assure us ; but certain,
ly when God awakes his children and makes
them rise, this is a probable sign that it is
near day. I mean, when he stirs them up
to more than usual hopes, and prayers, and
endeavours, it is very likely that he intends
them some special good ; but yet more,
when he himself is arisen, (as it pleaseth
him to speak,) that is, when he is begun to
appear, in a more than ordinary manner of
working by singular and wonderful footsteps
of Providence. This is, no doubt, a sign that
he will go on to shew remarkable mercy to
Zion, and that the time to favour her, yea,
the set time is come, Psalm cii. 13.
Howsoever, then, let the wonderful work,
ings of the Lord move those of you that have
any power and opportunity, to be now (if ever)
active, for the greatest good, both of the pre-
sent age and of posterity. And you that
can be no other way useful, yet you shall be
no small helpers if you be much in prayer ;
let both your hopes and your fears servo to
sharpen your prayers. Be not too much de-
jected with any discouragement, neither be
ye carnally lifted up with outward appear-
ances ; for the heart of him that is lifted
up is not upright in him, Hab. ii. 4 ; but
live, as the just do, by your faith ; and if
the deferring of your hopes should sicken
your hearts, as Solomon speaks, yet stay
and comfort them with the cordial of the
promises. This you are sure of, you have
God's own word engaged for it, that in
those latter days Babylon shall be brought
to the dust, and the true church of Christ
shall flourish and increase : And this vision
is for an appointed time (as Habakkuk
says of his) ; at the end*it shall speak, and
not lie : though it tarry, wait for it ; it
will surely come, it will not tarry, Hab.
ii. 3,
In that day. In the day of Ephraim's
or Israel's calamity, denounced in the former
verses, which, as most do conceive, was when
the Assyrian oppressed them, and in the end
led them captive, in the reign of Hosea, as
you have the history of it, 2 Kings xvii. ;
at which time Hezekiah was King of Judith,
as you find in the following chapter ; and in
that notable reformation wrought by him,
with those blessings that followed upon it,
is found the accomplishment of this promise
to Judah, In that day, &c. The parallel
of God's different dealing with these two
kingdoms, at the time there specified, (In
that day,} does afford divers lessons, which
might be here not impertinently taken notice
of. Only this,
Though Judah also had its own corrup-
tions when Hezekiah came to the crown, yet
it pleased the Lord to spare them, and work
a peaceable reformation, making Israel's pu-
nishment their warning. Truly that nation,
with whom the Lord deals thus graciously,
is vilely ingrate if they observe it not with
much humility and thankfulness, and with
profit too. If the Lord should answer your
desires and hopes with a reformation in a
peaceable way, and should yet lengthen out
your long-continued peace, and should make
this little past shaking of it cause it to take
root the faster ; if he should, I say, do this,
where would ye find fit praises for such a
wonder of mercy ; especially considering, that
in the meanwhile he hath made other reform-
ed churches fields of blood, and made, as it
were, the sound of their stripes preach repen-
tance to us ? But certainly, if the hearing
the voice of the rod prevail not, we shall feel
the smfcrt of it, as this people of Judah did
afterwards, because they were not so wise as
to become wiser and better by Israel's folly
and calamity. We are expecting. great things
at our Lord's hands, and our provocations and
sins against him are great ; yet there is none
of them allputs us in so much danger of die-
SERMON III.
appointment as impenitence. Were there
more repentance and personal reformation
amongst us, we might take it as a hopeful
forerunner of that public reformation which
so many seem now to desire.
The Lord of hosts. This style of his,
you know, is frequently in the prophets, in
their predictions of mercy and judgment ;
intimating both his greatness and majesty,
and his supreme power for accomplishing his
word. No created power can resist him ;
yea, all must serve him. The most excellent
creatures can have no greater honour ; the
greatest are not exempted, nor the meanest
excluded from serving him. In Acts xii.
23, you find one of the noblest creatures, and
a number of the vilest, made use of at the
same time in the same service. Because
Herod did accept of the sacrilege of the peo-
ple, and gave not back to this Lord of hosts
his own glory, the angel of the Lord smote
him, and the vermin devoured him. And
in Egypt, you know the employing of the
destroying angel, and what variety of hosts
this Lord of hosts did employ to plague them.
What madness, then, is it to oppose and en.
counter this great general ; even in doubtful
cases, to run on blindly, without examining,
test peradventure a man should be found a
fighter against God ! And on the other side,
it is a great weakness to admit any fear under
his banner. If a man could say, when he
was told of the multitude of the ships the
enemy had, Against how many do ye reckon
me ? How much more justly may we reckon
this Lord of hosts, against
how great soever !
multitudes of
They are to
him as the drop of a bucket, and the small-
est dust of the balance. It is ignorance and
mean thoughts of this mighty Lord that
make his enemies so confident ; and it is the
same evil, in some dergee, or, at the best,
forgetfulness of his power, that causeth diffi-
dence in his followers, Isa. li. 12, 13. Now.
the same Lord of hosts, you know, is like-
wise called the God of peace ; he is indeed,
et pace et bello insignis, splendid both in
peace and war. The blessing of peace and
the success or war are both from him ; anc
to him alone is due the praise of both.
Shall be a crown, &c. He shall dignify
and adorn them by his special presence ; to-
wit, in the purity of his ordinances and re-
ligion amongst them ; the profession and
flourishing of that shall be their special glory
and beauty ; for as the other two benefits
concern their civil good, justice flourishing
withir , and wealth and opulency from with
out, so doubtless this first, this glory and
beauty, is religion, as thechiefest of the three
and tile other two are its attendants. In
Psalm xxvi. 8, the sanctuary, the place of
their solemn worship, is called the place
where God's honour dwelleth, or the taber-
nacle of his honour ; and Psalm xcvi. 9,
' the glorious sanctuary," or " the beauty of
oliness." And the ark of God, you know,
was called the glory. The glory is departed
from Israel, (said the wife of Phineas,)
for the ark of God is taken. Pure religion,
and a pure worship, is the glory of God
amongst his people, and consequently, their
lory. Now, referring this prophecy to Heze-
ciah's time, the accomplishment of it is evi-
dent in that work of reformation, whereof you
lave the full history, 2 Chron. xxix. 30, 31,
&c.
If it be thus, that the purity of religion
and worship is the crown and glory of a peo-
ple ; and therefore, on the other side, that
heir deepest stain of dishonour and vileness,
s the vitiating of religion with human devi-
ces ; then, to contend for the preservation or
:he reformation of it, is noble and worthy of
t Christian. It is for a crown of Jesus
Ohrist, which is likewise a crown of glory and
diadem of beauty to them, he being their
lead. It is, indeed, the true glory both of
cings and their kingdoms. Labour, then,
'or constancy in this work ; let no man take
your crown from you. You know how busy
:he emissaries of the Church of Rome have
jeen to take it from us, or, at least, to pick
the diamonds out of it, and put in false, coun-
terfeit ones in their places ; I mean, they
stole away the power of religion, and filled up
the room with shadows and fopperies of their
own devising. It is the vanity of that church
to think they adorn the worship of God when
they dress it up with splendour in her ser-
vice, which, though some magnify so much,
yet may most truly be called a glistering
slavery and captivity. Then is she truly free
and wears her crown, when the ordinances of
God are conformable to his own appointment.
It is vanity in men, I say, when they dress
it up with a multitude of gaudy ceremonies,
and make it the smallest part of itself, where-
as, indeed, its true glory consists not in
pomp, but in purity and simplicity. Apoc.
xii., we find the church under the name of
a woman, richly attired indeed, but her or-
naments be all heavenly, the sun her cloth,
ing, and her crown of twelve stars ; needs
she then borrow sublunary glory ? No, she
treads upon it ; the moon is under her feet.
There is another woman, indeed, in that same
book, arrayed in purple and scarlet, decked
with gold and precious stones, and having a
golden cup in her hand, but that golden cup
is full of abominations and filthiness, and she
herself the mother of abominations. Apoc.
xvii. 4. The natural man judges according
to his reach, but to a spiritual eye there is a
most genuine beauty in the service of God
and government of his house ; and when the;
are nearest to the rule, the word of God, then
is it, that the Lord himself is the crown and
diadem of his church.
A crown, &c. Again we consider this
SERMON III.
personally, as belonging in particular to every
believer. They are all marie kings and
priests unto God the Father, Rev. i. 6.
They are a chosen generation, a royal
priesthood, 1 Pet. ii. 9, how despicable so-
ever to the world. This is their dignity :
The Lord is their crown and diadem : he
subdues their lust, and makes them kings
over their own affections, and more than con-
querors over all troubles and persecutions ;
whereas carnal men are continually hurried
like slaves, unto base employments, still kept
toiling in the ignoble service of their own
lusts. They think, indeed, it is their liber-
ty, but that is a baseness of spirit that com-
plies so well with so vile and servile a con-
dition ; and whereas they judge the godly to
be the refuse and dross of the earth, and the
proper objects of contempt, this is because
their crown, though most glorious, is invisi-
ble to the eye of nature. The Lord is a
crown : if they knew what this is, they
would see enough in it to countervail their
outward meanness, and the reproaches die
world casts on them, as the apostle St. Peter
hath it, 1 Ep. iv. 14 ; ' If ye be reproach-
ed for the name of Christ, happy are ye, for
the spirit of glory and of G d resteth on you :"
he is their crown.
And observe, how this crown is opposed to
that blasted glory and fading crown of pride,
spoken of in the former verses.
Who is there that sees not, in daily expe-
rience, the vanity and inconstancy of worldly
glory ? And yet, how few are there that
wean themselves from it, and learn to disdain
it ! Still men dote upon that which is not,
upon a shadow, a nothing. But would you
glory, you will glory in him, and in nothing
else. Though you be wise, you will not
glory in your wisdom, nor in strength, nor in
riches, nor honours, though you had them
all ; but if you glory, you will glory in the
Lord. And withal, your highest joy will
be to see the advancement of his glory ; and
if you can, to be any way serviceable to the
advancing of it.
And a spirit of judgment, &c. Both to
those that sit in judgment, and to the people ;
for justice is the strongest base and establish-
ment of authority. And withal, the influ-
ence of it is most sweet and comfortable to
those that are under authority ; and where it is
wanting, that order and relation of superiors
and inferiors, which God hath appointed in
the societies of men, for their good, tends ex-
ceedingly to the damage of both ; and, there-
fore, where God intendeth to continue the
peace and welfare of a people, he is liberal
in pouring out much of this spirit of judg-
ment on those that sit in judgment. On the
contrary, it is for a heavy punishment, when
he withdraws his spirit from rulers, and leaves
them wholly to the corruption and vanity of
their own spirits.
That sit in judgment. To all that are in
places of authority and judicature, from the
supreme to the lowest magistrate : for this
concerns them all, for they be all raised in
their subordination, and several places, above
the people, for the benefit and good of the
people, as the stars that be set so high, yet
are placed there to be useful and beneficial
to the inferior world.
Now, this spirit of judgment comprehends
in it both due wisdom and prudence, for the
have a glory that fadeth not, a garland that \ trial and right judging of affairs, and for the
cannot wither, make the Lord your crown and j discerning betwixt sound and perverse coun-
your glory ; and if he be so, glory in him:sel; and withal, a judgment practically good,
and in nothing else : Let not the wise man \ that cannot be biassed from the straight line
glory, &c. but let, &c. Jer. ix. 23. of equity and justice by any sinister respect.
You that are nobie aspire to this crown, as
being so far above yoar perishing honours
and bounded powers ; and you that are out.
wardly meaner and lower, see how little cause
you have to complain of your condition, see-
ing you are not deoarred from this best and
greatest honour. And that you may discern
it aright what it is. Know that it consists in
the renovation of God's image within you,
which is in holiness and righteousness : so
the Lord becomes vour crown in the kingdom
of grace ; and bv this you may discover,
whether or no you have attained it. If you
can yet delight to wallow in the puddle and
pleasures of sin, you are far from this royal
condition ; but if vou find your soul possess-
ed with the love of holiness, and that you are
trampling upon profane delights, this may
persuade you that God hath enabled you, and
crowned you with his grace, and will crown
the Lord is become your crown, and vour
Now, seeing the spirit of judgment is from
the Lord, (yea, he is this spirit,) it ought to
persuade those that sit in judgment, to en-
treat and pray for this, and to depend upon
it, and beware of self-confidence. Trust in
the Lord, saith Solomon, and lean not to
thine own understanding ; if you do, it will
prove but a broken reed. And as they that
sit in judgment should entreat his spirit by
prayer, so generally, all must share with them
in this duty, and make supplication for all
that are in authority over them, especially in
extraordinary times. Truly we have matter
of thankfulness, that the Lord hath in some
measure inclined the royal heart of our So-
vereign to the desires of his people, and ought
still to pray that the Lord would give the
king his judgments ; and then, as the Psal-
mist adds, The mountains shall bring peace
to the people, and the little hills by righ-
you with glory. Again, try it by this; if teosuness, Psalm Ixxii. 3. And for this
end. let all that wish the public, yea, their
SERMON IV
365
own good, pray much for abundance of this
spirit of judgment to be conferred on them ;
your eyes and expectations are upon them.
If you would enjoy the lamp, you must pour
in oil. This spirit, indeed, you cannot pour
upon them, but if you pour out many prayers,
you may draw it from above ; he will give it,
who here promises to be a spirit of judgment.
And strength. Observe the way to be
powerful and successful against foreign ene-
mies is, to have religion and justice flourish-
ing at home. And truly, if it please our
God to answer the desires of his people at
So that we are either altogether senseless and
dead before him, or, if any fit of spiritual
motion rise within us, we find it here, and
here we leave it, as if it were sacrilege to take
it home with us. But did once that spiiit of
grace breathe savingly upon our souls, we
should straight renounce and abhor those base
idols, and then all the current of our aftec-
lion would run more in this channel ; our
services would then be spiritual, and it would
be our heaven upon earth to view God in his
sanctuary ; and the obtaining of the change
is, and should be, one main end of this our
this time, it may so unite the affection and j meeting ; and that it may be the happy effect
strength of the two kingdoms, (the Lord of I of it, our recourse must be to the throne of
hosts being theit strength,) as to make them grace by humble prayer, in the name of our
%. a terror to their enemies, whereas they were mediator, Jesus Christ the righteous.
become a scorn and derision to them. For '
your particular, labour to make the Lord ' — •• —
your glory, to have Christ made unto you,
as the apostle speaks, both wisdom, and righ-
teousness, and sanctification, which are the
glory and beauty of the soul, and redemption
from your spiritual enemies. Draw strength
from him to fight and prevail against them,
till after the short combat of this life, you ob-
tain the crown, and dwell in his presence,
where you shall fear no more assaults, neither
of sin nor affliction, but shall be for ever
happy in the blessed vision of his face. To
him be glory. Amen.
SERMON IV.
PBEFACE.
EXTERNAL worship doth openly acknow-
ledge a Deity ; but want of inward sense in
worship secretly denieth it : The fool hath
ISAIAH Ix. 1.
Arise, shine ; for thy light is come, and the
glory of the Lord is risen upon thee.
ADMIRABLE is the worth and depth of
Divine Providence ! This either we know
not, or, at least, seldom remember. While
we forget the wonders of Providence, we
direct our thoughts to baser objects, and
. think not on it ; and while we forget the
j depth of Providence, (if at any time we look
towards it,) we judge rashly and think amiss
of it. If this be true of that general provi-
dence whereby God rules the world, it is more
true of his special providence towards his
church. This is both the most excellent
piece of it, and therefore best worth the
reading, and also the hardest piece, and
therefore it requires sobriety in judging ;
above all other things, he that suddenly
judgesin this, makes haste to err. To have
said in his heart, there is no God. It is aright view of it, it must be taken altogether,
strange to hear so much noise of religion in and not by parcels : -pieces of rarest artifice,
the world, and to find so little piety. To
present the living God with a carcase of life-
less worship, is to pay him with shells of ser-
vices, and so to mock him ; and it is a more
admirable long-suffering in him to defer the
punishment of such devotion, than all the
other sins in the world. The Egyptian tem-
ples were rich and stately fabrics. A strang-
er, who had looked upon them without, would
have imagined some great deity within ; but
if they entered, (as Lucian says, laughing
at them,) nothing was to be seen, but only
some ape, or cat, or pied bull, or some other
fine god like these. To behold our fair sem-
blance of religion that frequent this house,
it would appear that we were all the temples
of the Holy Ghost. But whoso could look
within us, would find in many of our hearts,
lust, pride, avarice, or some such like secret
vice, adored as a God ; and these are they
that, while our bodies sit here, do alienate
our souls from the service of the eternal God.
while they are a-making, seem little worth,
especially to an unskilful eye, which, being
completed, command admiration. P. Martyr
says well, De Operibus Dei, antequam ac-
turn, non est judicandum. There is a time
when the daughters of Sion embrace the
dunghill, and sit desolate in the streets, as
Jeremiah hath it in his Lamentations, iv. 5,
and at that same time the voice of Babylon
is, / sit as a queen, and shall see no sorrow,
Isa. xlvii. All is out of order here. But if
we stay a while, we shall see Sion and Baby-
lon appointed to change seats, by the great
Master of the world : Come down, (says he,)
daughter of Babylon, and sit in the dusty
Isa. xlvii. 1. And here to Sion : Arise,
shine ; for thy light is come, and the glory
of the Lord is risen upon thee. It is an
entire catastrophe ; both parties find a net-
able alteration together ; that same hand that
exalts the one ruins the other. When the
sun rises upon the church, her antipodes
36C
SE 1131 ON IV.
must needs be covered with darkness. As
we find it in the next verse to the text :
Darkness shall cover the earth, and gross
darkness the people ; but the Lord shall
arise upon thee, and his glory shall be seen
upon thee.
The prophet, elevated by the Spirit of God
to a view of after ages, as clear as if present,
seems here to find his people sitting under
the dark mantle of a sad and tedious nieht,
and having long expected the sun's return in
vain, before its time, they give over expecta-
tion when it is near them, and desperately
sell themselves to lie perpetually in the dark.
Now, the prophet, as it were, standing awake
upon some mountain, perceives the day ap-
proaching, and the golden chariots of the
morning of deliverance hasting forward, and
seems to come speedily with these glad news
to a captive people, and sounds this trumpet
in their ears, Arise, shine ; for thy light is
come, &c. The very manner of expression
is sudden and rousing, without a copulative,
not, arise and shine ; but, arise, shine, &c.
The words have in them a clear stamp of
relation to a low posture and obscure condi-
tion ; they suppose a people lying or sitting
without light. Deep distress is that dark
foil that best sets off the lustre of marvellou
deliverances ; and among many other reason
of the church's vicissitudes, why may not this
be one ? The Lord is more illustrious in
the world by that deep wisdom and great
power that shines when he raises and restores
her from desperate afflictions, than if he had
still preserved her in constant ease. He seems
sometimes careless of her condition, and re-
gardless of her groans ; but even then is he
waiting the most fit time to be gracious, as
our prophet speaks. And when it is time,
out of the basest estate he brings her forth
more fresh, strong, and beautiful than before.
Though you have lien among the pots, ye
shall be as the wings of a dove covered with
silver, and her feathers with yellow gold,
Psalm Ixviii. 13. Do with the church what
you will, she shall come through, and that
with advantage ; mergas profundo, pulchrior
exilet, as one says of Rome. Keep the church
seventy years captive, yet after that, she shall
arise and shine more glorious than ever.
But surely the strain of this evangelic pro-
phecy rises higher than any temporal deliver-
ance. Therefore we must rise to some more
spiritual sense of it, not excluding the former ;
and that which some call divers senses of the
same scripture, are, indeed, but divers parts
of one full sense. This prophecy is, out of
question, a most rich description of the king-
dom of Christ under the gospel ; and in this
sense, this invitation to arise and shine is
mainly addressed to mystical Jerusalem, yet
not without some privilege to literal Jerusalem
beyond other people. They are first invited to
arise and shine., because this sun arose first
in their horizon. Christ came of the Jens,
and came first to them. The Redeemer
shall come to Zion, says our prophet, in the
former chapter, but miserable Jerusalem
knew not the day of her visitation, nor the
things that concerned her peace, and there-
fore are they now hid from her eyes. She
delighted to deceive herself with fancies of
(I know not what) imaginary grandeur and
outward glory, to which the promised Mes-
siah should exalt her, and did, in that kind,
particularly abuse this very prophecy ; so
doting upon a sense grossly literal, she for-
feited the enjoyment of those spiritual bless-
ings that are here decribed. But undoubt-
edly, that people of the Jews shall once more
be commanded to arise and shine, and their -
return shall be the riches of the Gentiles ;
and that shall be a more glorious time than
ever the church of God did yet behold. Nor
is there any inconvenience, if we think that
the high expressions of this prophecy have
seme spiritual reference to that time, since
the great doctor of the Gentiles applies some
words of the former chapter to that purpose.
Rom. xi. 29. They forget a main point of'
the church's glory, that pray not daily for
the Jews' conversion.
But to pass that, and insist on the spiri-
tual sense of these words, as directed to the
whole church of Christ. They contain a
powerful incitement to a twofold act enforced
("as I conceive) by one reason, under a two-
fold expression, neither of them superfluous,
but each giving light to the other, and suit-
ing very aptly with the two words of command :
" Arise, for the glory of the Lord is risen ;
and shine, for thy light is come."
I will not now subdivide these parts again,
and cut them smaller, but will rather unite
them again into this one proposition : the com-
ing and presence of Christ engages all to whom
he comes, to arise and shine. In this pro-
position may be considered the nature of the
duties, the universality of the subject, and
the force of the reason. First, the nature
of the duties, what it is to "arise and shine.
Arising hath either reference to a fall, or
to some contrary posture of sitting or lying ;
or to one of these two conditions, that are so
like one another, sleep or death ; and to ail
these spiritually understood, may it here be re-
ferred. This is the voice of the gospel to the
sons of Adam, Arise, for in him they all fell.
The first sin of that first man was the great
fall of mankind ; it could not but undo us,
it was from so high a station. Our <*aily
sins are our falls, and they are the fruits of
that great one. " Thou hast fallen by thine
iniquity," said the Lord to his people, Hos.
xiv. 1. As for those postures of sitting and
lying, the Scriptures make use of them both
to signify the state of sin. Says not St.
John, " The world lies in wickedness?" 1
John v. 19. Are not the people said to sit
SEKMON IV.
367
in darkness, mentioned Matt. iv. 10, which
is directly opposite to arise and shine ? In
tli darkness of Egypt, it is said, the people
sat still ; none arose from their places. In
the gross mist of corrupt nature, man cannot
uestir himself to any spiritual action, but
when this light is come, then he may, and
should arise.
Now for sleep and death, sin is most fre-
eiuently represented in holy writ under their
black vizors. To forbear places where they
are severally so used, we shall find them
jointly in one : Eph. v. 14, " Arise, thou
that sleepest, and stand up from the dead ;"
which place seems to have special allusion to
this very text.
The impenitent sinner is as one buried in
sleep ; his soul is in darkness, fit for sleep,
and loves to be so. That he may sleep the
sounder, he shuts all the passages of light,
as enemies to his rest ; and so, by close win-
dows and curtains, makes an artificial night
to himself within : not a beam appears there,
though without the clear day of the gospel
shines round about him. The senses of his
soul, as we may call them, are all bound up
and are not exercised to discern good and evil,
as the apostle speaks, Heb. v. 14. And his
leading faculty, his understanding, is sur-
charged with sleepy vapours, that arise inces-
santly from the inferior part of his soul, his
perverse affections. Nor hath his mind any
other exercise, in this sleepy condition, but
the vain business of dreaming. His most
refined and wisest thoughts are but mere ex.
travagancies from man's due end, and his
greatest contentments nothing but golden
dreams : yet he is serious in them, and no
wonder, for who can discern the folly of his
c wn dream till he is awake ? He that dreams
i-e eateth, when he awakes, finds his soul
empty, and not till then. Isa. xxix. 8.
Now while he thus sleeps, his great business
lies by, yet spends he his hand-breadth of
time as fast, while lie js fast asleep, as if
he were in continual employment ; judge,
then, if it be not needful to bid this man
arise.
Lastly, This voice may import, that man
is spiritually dead. God is the life of the soul
as he is of the body ; while he dwells there,
it is both comely and active, but once desti-
tute of his presence, becomes a carcase, where,
besides privation of life and motion, there is
a positive filthiness, a putrefaction in the
soul, unspeakably worse than that of dead
bodies : corrupdo optimi pessima. And as
dead bodies are removed from the sight of
men, dead souls are cast out from the favour-
able sight of God, till Christ's saying Arise,
revive them. The ministers of the word are
appointed to cry, Arise, indifferently to all
that hear them ; and Christ hath reserved
this privilege and liberty, to join his effective
voice, when and to whom he pleases. A
carnal man may shew his teeth at this, but
who is he that can, by any solid reason,
charge absurdity upon this way of dispensing
outward and inward vocation ? I will not
here mention their idle cavils ; the Scripture
is undeniably clear in this, that man is na-
turally dead in sin. The gospsl bids him
arise, and it is Christ that is his life, and that
raises him. Thus we see, in some measure,
what it is for men to arise. Now being risen
they must shine, and that two ways, jointly
and publicly, as they make up visible
churches ; and likewise personally, in their
particular conversation. First then, Whal
is the shining of the true church ? Doth
not a church then shine, when church ser-
vice is raised from a decent and primitive
simplicity, and decorated with pompous cere-
monies, with rich furniture, and gaudy vest-
ments ? Is not the church then beautiful ?
Yes, indeed; but all the question is, whethei
this be the proper, genuine beauty or no ;
whether this be not strange fire, as the tire
that Aaron's sons used, which became vain,
and was taken as strange fire ? Methinks it
cannot be better decided, than to refer it to
St. John in his book of the Revelations. We
find there the description of two several
women, the one riding in state, arrayed in
purple, decked with -gold, and precious
stones, and pearls, Rev. xvii. 3, 4 ; the
other in rich attire too, but of another
kind, (chapter xii. 1,) clothed with the sun,
and a crown of twelve stars on her head. The
other's decoration was all earthly ; this wo-
man's is all celestial. What need she borrow
light and beauty from precious stones, that
is clothed with the sun, and crowned with
stars ? She wears no sublunary ornaments ;
but, which is more noble, she treads upon
them — the moon is under her feet. Now if
you know (as you do all without doubt) which
of these two is the spouse of Christ, you can
easily resolve the question. The truth is,
those things seem to deck religion, but they
undo it. Observe where they are most used,
and we shall find little or no substance of
devotion under them ; as we see in that apos-
tate church at Rome. This painting is dis-
honourable for Christ's spouse, and besides,
it spoils her natural complexion. The super-
stitious use of torches and lights in the
church by day, is a kind of shining, but
surely not commanded here. No ; it is an
affront done both to the sun in the heaven,
and to the Sun of Righteousness in the church.
What is meant then, when the church is
commanded to shine or be enlightened ?
These two readings give the entire sense Oi
the word ; for, first, having no light of her
self, she must receive light, and then she*
it ; be enlightened, and then shine. She is
enlightened by Christ the Sun of Righteous-
ness, shining in the sphere of the gospel.
" This is that light that conies to her, and
338
SERMON IV.
the glcry of the Lord that arises upon her.
Hence she receives her laws and form of go-
vernment, and her shining is briefly the pure
exercise of those, and conformity to them.
And the personal shining of the several
members of a church, is a comely congruity
with pure worship and discipline, and it is
that which now is most needful to be urged.
Every Christian soul is personally engaged,
first to be enlightened, and then to shine,
and we must draw our light for ourselves from
that same source that furnishes the church
with her public light. There is a word in
the civil law, Uxor fulget radiis mariti —
the wife shines by the rays of her husbaud's
light. Now every faithful soul is espoused
to Christ, and therefore may well shine,
seeing the Sun himself is their husband.
He adorns them with a double beauty of jus-
tification and sanctification. By that, they
shine more especially to God ; by this to men.
And may not these two be signified by a
double character given to the spouse in Cant,
vi. 20 : She is fair as the moon, and clear
as the sun ? The lesser light is that ol
sanctification, fair as the moon ; that ol
justification the greater, by which she is as
clear as the sun. The sun is perfectly lu-
minous, but the moon is but half enlightened :
so the believer is perfectly justified, but sanc-
tified only in part ; his one half, his flesh, is
dark ; and as the partial illumination is the
reason of so many changes in the moon, to
which changes the sun is not subject at all,
so the imperfection of a Christian's holiness
is the cause of so many waxings and wanings,
and great inequality in his performances,
whereas in the meanwhile his justification re-
mains constantly like itself : this is imputed,
that inherent. The light of sanctification
must begin in the understanding, and from
thence be transfused to the affections, the in-
ferior parts of the soul, and from thence break
forth an J shine into action. This is then the
nature of the duties, Arise and shine.
The universality of the subject, which was
the second head, is this, that every man that
knows Christ, is here engaged to shine too.
Neither grandeur exempts from the duty of
shining, nor doth meanness exclude from the
privilege of shining. Men of low condition
in this world need not despair of it, for it is
a spiritual act ; great men need not despise
it, for it is a noble act to shine by Christ's
light. In the 3d verse of this chapter it is
said to the church, Kings shall come to the
brightness of thy rising. To what end, but
to partake of her light, and shine with her ?
And indeed the regal attire of Christ's righ-
teousness, and the white robes of holiness,
will exceedingly well become kings and prinl
ces. Give the king thy judgments, O Lord,
nnd^thy righteousness to the king's son.
The third and last thing propounded was,
the force of the reasons that Christ's presence
1 engages to arise and shine, wherein it is sup-
posed that Christ declared in the gospel, is
the light which is said here to come, and the
glory of the Lord which is said to be risen ;
go that now it should be more amply clear,
ed, how Christ is light, and the glory of the
Lord, and what his coming and rising is ; but
of these afterwards. I shall close now with
a word of exhortation.
Arise, then, for the glory of the Lord it
risen. The day of the gospel is too precious
that any of it should be spent in sleep or idle-
ness, or worthless business. Worthless busi-
ness detains many of us ; arise, immortal
souls, from moiling in the dust, and working
in the clay like Egyptian captives. Address
yourselves to more noble work ; there is a
Redeemer come that will pay your ransom,
and rescue you from such vile service, for
more excellent employment. It is strange
how the souls of Christians can so much for-
get their first original from heaven, and their
new hopes of returning thither, and the rich
price of their redemption, and forgetting all
these, dwell so low, and dote so much upon
trifles ; how is it that they hear not their
well-beloved's voice crying, Arise, my love,
my fair one, and come away ? Though
the eyes of true believers are so enlightened,
that they shall not sleep unto death, yet theii
spirits are often seized with a kind of drow-
siness and slumber, and sometimes even then,
when they should be of most activity. The
time of Christ's check to his three discipks
made it very sharp, though the words are
mild : What ! Could ye not watch with
me one hour ? Shake oft', believing souls,
that heavy humour. Arise, and satiate the
eye of faith, will) the contemplation of Christ's
beauty, and follow aftei him till you attain
the place of full enjoyment. And you others
that never yet saw him, arise, and admire
his matchless excellency. The things you
esteem great, are but so through ignorance of
his greatness ; his brightness, if you saw it,
would obscure to you the greatest splendour
of the world, as all those stars that never go
down upon us, yet they are swallowed up in
the surpassing light of the sun when it arises.
" Stand up from the dead, and he shall give
you light. Arise, and work while it is day ;
for the night shall come wherein none can
work," says our Saviour himself. Happy
are they that arise early in the morning of
their youth ; for the day of life is very short,
and the art of Christianity long and difficult.
Is it not a grievous thing, that men never
consider why they came into the world, till
they be upon the point of going out again,
nor think how to live, till they be summoned
to die ? But most of all unhappy, he that
never wakens out of that pleasing dream of
false happiness, till he fall into eternal mi-
;ery : arise then, betimes, and prevent this oruJ
awakening.
SERMON IV.
369
And being risen, put on your beautiful
garments, Isa. lii. 1. Draw towards you,
with the hand of faith, the rich mantle of
Christ's righteousness. It is time to awake,
says the apostle, Rom. xiii. 11, and present-
ly after, Put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ.
And it is a wonder how a sinner can rest,
while he is out of this garment ; for there is
no other in heaven nor earth can make him
shine to God, and so shelter him from the
stroke of justice. Put him on then, and so
shine ; being thus clothed, thou shalt shine
in justification, and likewise in sanctity.
What a privilege is it to be like God ! A
sanctified conscience, what can be said
against it ? And, first, have an enlightened
understanding, for that is the proper seat of
light ; that ignorant zeal that Rome com-
mends, exposes religion to scorn and con-
tempt : heat without light is the character of
the fire of hell. I know all are not tied to a
like degree of knowledge, but certainly all are
obliged to have a competency, and diligence
for increase. Aspire then to be intelligent
Christians, and to know well what you be-
lieve ; let your minds be filled with know-
ledge, as the apostle speaks. But let it not stop
there, it must have influence into the will,
Lux ext vehiculum calorii, — true light con-
veys heat. All the knowledge that the na-
tural man hath of Christ, not warming his
affection to Christ, is but ignis fatuus, a vain
light, it shall never lead him to happiness.
Saiing light produces love, and by that acts.
Faith works by love, says the apostle. That
breaks forth and shines in the life, in god-
liness, righteousness, and sobriety. Shine
then in all these, first in piety towards
God, for this is the reflection of these rays
of light back toward their source, and this
will command the other two. No man that
shines in godliness will wallow in injustice
and intemperance. Guile and wrong cannot
endure the light ; they that are unjust cannot
shine. And let them never offer to shine
among Christians that are not sober, but
stained with riot and uncleanness ; these foul
enormities lay waste the conscience, and put
out the light. How can any seeds of grace
subsist undrowned, that are exposed to a daily
deluge of cups ? How can that pure Spirit,
that chose the likeness of a chaste dove, dwell
and give light in that soul that is a nest of
impure and filthy lusts ? No ; there can be
no fellowship betwixt this celestial light,
whereby we should shine, and those infernal
works of darkness. Let profane men hold it
a chief strain of wit to scoff at purity, but
you that pretend heavenward in good earnest,
and mean to shine in glory, shine here in
holiness
tee God.
tions : Constantly in every estate ; let not
for without holiness no man shall
And do it with these qualifica-
every place do not shine clear, and be dark in
your chamber ; they that do thus have their
reward. That is a sad word, if rightly under-
stood : beware of hypocrisy. Again, shine
progressively, gaining still more and more
victory over darkness, till you attain unmix-
ed and perfect light. The way of the just,
says Solomon, is like the shining light, that
shineth more and more unto the perfect
day, Prov. iv. 18. Lastly, shine humbly to
his glory, whose light you borrow ; not to
shew forth your own excellencies, but his
who hath called you from darkness to his
marvellous light, 1 Peter ii. 9. If we be
children of light, our brightness must praise
the Father of lights : Let your light so shine
before men, that they, seeing your good works,
(not yourselves if you can be hid, as the sun
affords its light and will scarce suffer us to look
upon itself,) may glorify (not you, but) your
heavenly Father, Matt. v. 6. To conclude :
The pure light of the church is revived,
and the glory of the Lord is risen upon you.
and upon this glory there shall be a defence.
If God be your glory in the midst of you, he
will be likewise a wall of fire round about
you. All the danger is, if we fall short in the
duty of shining ; but as you desire that this
glory should abide and dwell amongst you,
let all estates of men provoke one another to
shine bright in holiness. You who, either by
birth or office, are in eminent station, know
that you were set there to be eminent and
exemplary in shining, as stars of more nota-
ble magnitude. You who are ministers 01
this light, know that you are the light of the
world ; and if the very light become dark-
ness, how great will that darkness be ! You
that are of a lower order, know that you must
shine too ; for it is a common duty. There is
a certain company of small stars in the firma-
ment, which, though they cannot be each one se-
verally seen, yet being many, their united light
makes a conspicuous brightness in the heaven,
which is called the milky way : so, though the
shining of every private Christian is not so
much severally remarkable, yet the concourse
and meeting of their light together, will make
a bright path of holiness shine in the church.
Now to the end we may each one shine in
our measure, we must learn to turn ourselves
often towards him from whom our light is
derived. Conversing with him will make us
more and more like him. There is a secret,
unknown virtue for this purpose in secret
prayer and meditation ; were we more in the
mount with God, our faces would shine more
with men. Let us then rescue from the world
all the time we can, to resort frequently
| thither, till such time as the soul, which
is now often pulled down again by the
flesh, shall let that mantle fall, and come
down no more, but shine there without spot,
this divine light go out, neither by day inland be for ever satisfied with her Maker't
prosperity, nor by night in adversity, in \image.
2 A
370
SERMON V.
SERMON V.
ART imitates nature, and the nearer it
comes to nature in its effects, it is the more
excellent. Grace is the new nature of a
Christian, and hypocrisy that art that coun-
terfeits it ; and the more exquisite it is in
imitation, it is the more plausible to men, but
the more abominable to God. It may frame
a spiritual man in image, so to the life, that
not only others, but even the hypocrite him-
self, may admire it, and favouring his own
artifice, may be deceived so far as to say and
to think it lives, and fall in love with it ;
but he is no less abhorred by the Searcher of
hearts, than pleasing to himself. Surely this
mischief of hypocrisy can never be enough
inveighed against. When religion is in re-
quest, it is the chief malady of the church,
and numbers die of it ; though, -because it is
a subtile and inward evil, it be little perceiv-
ed. It is to be feared there are many sick of
it, that look well and comely in God's out-
ward worship, and they may pass well in good
weather, in times of peace ; but days of ad-
versity are days of trial. The prosperous
state of the church makes hypocrites, and her
distress discovers them ; but if they escape
such trial, there is one inevitable day coming,
wherein all secret things shall be made mani-
fest. Men shall be turned inside out ; and
amongst all sinners that shall then be brought
before that judgment-seat, the most deformed
sight shall be an unmasked hypocrite, and
the heaviest sentence shall be his portion.
Oh ! that the consideration of this would
scare us out of that false disguise in time, and
set us all upon the study of sincerity. Pre-
pious is that grace in God's esteem ; a little
of it will weigh down mountains of formal re-
ligion, in the balance of the sanctuary.
Which of us have not brought hypocrisy,
more or less, into this house of God ? Oh !
that it were not with intention to nourish it,
but with desire to be here cured of it ; for
he alone that hates it so much, can cure it ;
he alone can confer upon us that sincerity
wherein he mainly delights. If we have a
mind, indeed, to be endued with it, it is no
where else to be had, we must intreat it of
God by humble prayer, in the name of his
well-beloved Son, by the assistance of his
Holy Spirit.
SECOND SERMON.
ISAIAH Ix. 1.
Arise, shine ; for thy light is come, and the
glory of the Lord is risen upon thee.
Truly light is sweet, and it is a pleasing
thing to behold the sun, says the preacher,
Eccl. xl, 7 : but the interchange of night
with day adds to its beauty, and the longest
night makes day the welcomes! ; as that peo-
ple well know, whose situation in the world
gives them a five or six months' night all of
one piece. It is reported of some of them,
that when they conceive their night draws to-
wards an end, they put on their richest ap-
parel, and climb up to the highest mountains,
with emulation, who shall first discover the
returning light ; which, as soon as it appears,
they salute with acclamations of joy, and wel-
come it with solemn feasting, and all other
testimonies of exceeding gladness. But such
is the lethargy of sinful man, that he stirs
not to meet his spiritual light ; and, which is
worse, when it comes upon him, it finds him
in love with darkness. Instead of his shouts
of joy for this light, many a cry must be
sounded in his ears, to awaken him ; and is
is well too, if at length he hear and obey this
voice — Arise, shine ; for thy light is come,
&c. It is clear that the words contain a
command, and the reason of it ; the command
to a twofold act ; the reason under two ex.
pressions, proportionately different. Good
reason the church should arise, when the
Lord's glory is risen upon her ; and it is
very congruous, she should be enlightened
and shine when her light is come. Of those
two acts or duties, somewhat was formerly
spoken ; and the reason likewise was made
use of so far as relative to those duties, and
tending to their enforcement. But the mean-
ing of the phrases, in which the reason is ex-
pressed, was rather, at that time, supposed,
than either duly proved or illustrated ; so
that it will be now expedient to consider,
simply in themselves, these latter words, Thy
light is come, &c.
So far as this prophecy hath respect to
the reduction of the Jews from the Babylo-
nish Captivity, that temporal deliverance,
and ensuing peace and prosperity, was their
light, and that divine power by which it was
effected, was this glory of the 1/ord. And
indeed, both these expressions are frequently
used in such a sense in holy writ : When I
waited for light, there came darkness, says
Job, in chap. xxx. 26, (so Isaiah Iviii. 8,
and many other places) ; and the glory of
the I/ord, for a singular effect of his power,
John xi. 40, Isa. Ix. 18, and elsewhere.
But this literal sense is but a step to elevate
the prophet to a sight of Cl'.ribt's spiritua. •
kingdom, which is usual with him ; as our
Saviour himself testifies of another of his
prophecies, These things said Esaias, when
he saw his glory, and spake of him, John
xii. 41. It was a sight of that same glory that
makes him say, That light was ince, &c.
In these words, there are three tilings, con-
cerning Christ, represented to the church's
view. First, his beauty and excellency, in
that he is called 'light, and the glory of the
SERMON V.
371
Secondly, The church's propriety and multiply citations of the Prophets and Evan,
interest on him — thy light, and risen upon gelists, who with one consent all magnify
thee, which hath a restrictive emphasis, as
the very next verse doth clearly manifest.
As he is originally the glory of the Lord,
and the light of the Lord, lumen de lumine,
so he is communicatively the church's light
end her glory too, as it is expressed in the
19th verse of the same chapter — " Thy God
thy glory :" thus hath she both his worth,
and her own right in him, to consider.
Thirdly, His presence, or her actual posses-
sion— he is come, and is risen. And in
these the church, and each faithful soul,
may find a double spring of affection, the
one of love, the other of joy. The tran-
scendent beauty of Christ makes him the
choicest object of love, and her property in
him or title to him, together with posses-
ion, is the proper cause of solid joy.
First, then, this excellency is expressed
>y these two characters — light, and the glory
<f the Lord. Concerning which, it will be
it both to demonstrate that they are the
>roper titles of Christ, and here to be taken
or him ; as also, to shew what they signify
n him.
Indeed, the apostle, in his second epistle
to the Corinthians, 3d chapter, insists much
n extolling both the light and the glory of
the gospel, and in the 4th verse of the next
chapter, speaks of the light of the glorioust
jospel ; but he immediately intimates whence
t hath this light and glory ; the glorious
jfospel of Christ, says he, who is the image
of God. So that it is most unnecessary to
inquire whether the Messiah, or the word
that reveals him, be rather here couched
under these terms of light and the glory of
the Lord. These two agree so well toge-
ther, and these words agree so well to them
both, that it were an injury to attempt to
sever them. All the difference will be this :
Christ is that incomplex and substantial
light, the gospel that complex light wherein
he appears. But (not to be guilty of dark
terms, especially in a discourse of light) I
take it in this resemblance : Christ is the
sun, and the gospel his proper sphere or
heaven, wherein he gives light to his church.
He is primarily the glory of the Lord, and
the gospel by participation, because it de-
clares him : so that much of that which shall
be spoken here of Christ, will be secondarily
(o be understood of the gospel of Christ.
That Christ is light, the Scripture speaks
abundantly. His own voice, concerning
himself, (notwithstanding the cavil of the
Pharisees,) is above all exception, for he is
truth itself: / am the light of the world,
saith he ; he that follows me shall not walk
in darkness, John viii. 12. The Father
that sent him gives him the same title : /
will give thee for a light of the Gentiles,
Isaiah xlii. U, and xlix. 6*. And not to
this light, take the true testimony of a false
prophet (and indeed, the favourable witness
of an adversary is strongest). It is that of
Balaam, who saw that Christ was light,
though because he saw him afar off (as he
says himself) and had not his eye fortified,
ike the true prophets, he discerned him but
as a star. There shall come a star out of
Jacob, &c. Numb. xxiv. 17- But what
need we go so far, to be certified what this
ight and glory of the Lord is, the Lord of
glory himself, seeing the very next verse to
the text assures us of it ? Upon thee shall
'he Lord arise. And in the 19th verse,
The Lord shall be thy everlasting light,
and thy God thy glory.
By this time, I hope it is clear, that the
eternal Son of God, co-essential with his
Father, was he that gave accomplishment to
this prophecy, by appearing to the world
wrapped up in the darkness of human na-
ture. He is that day-spring from on high
that hath visited us, as old Zacharias
speaks, Luke i. "}Q.
Among all created excellencies, none can
be borrowed more fitly representing Christ
than that of light. And is it not Christ
that decks his church with supernatural
beauty, and makes it indeed xir/to;, a
comely world, called out of the world ? But
the manifold agreement of light with Christ,
doth require more particular consideration.
Light is (as they call it) primum visibile^
the first object of sight ; and Jesus Christ,
whom the apostle styles God over all, bless-
ed for ever, is, primum intelligibile, the
prime object of the understanding. What
is then become of that divine sparkle, that
understanding soul, that the Father of spi-
rits breathes into these bodies, that all our
thoughts creep here below, and leave their
chief and noblest object unconsidered ?
Which of us may not complain, (though
few of us do,) that our souls have either'
no wings to elevate themselves to the con-
templation of him, from whom they issued ;
or if they make offers at it, our affections,
engaged to the world, make us, like a bird
tied by the foot, fall presently down again
into the mire ? It is high time to leave
hunting shadows, and to turn our internal
eye to the beholding of this uncreated light.
In this elementary world, light being (as
we hear) the first visible, all things are seen
by it, and it by itself. Thus is Christ,
among spiritual things, in the elect world
of his church ; all things aie made mani-
fest by the light, says the apostle, Eph.
v. 13, speaking of Christ, as the follow-
ing verse doth evidently testify. It is in
his word that he shines, and makes it a di-
recting and convincing light, to discover all
thirgs that concern his church and himself.
372
SERMON V.
to be known by its own brightness. How
impertinent then is that question so much
tossed by the Romish church : How know
you the Scriptures (say they) to be the word
of God, without the testimony of the church ?
I would ask one of them again, how they
can know that it is day-light, except some
light a candle to let them see it ? They are
little versed in holy scripture that know not
that it is frequently called light ; and they
are senseless that know not that light is seen
and known by itself. If our gospel be hid,
says the apostle, it is hid to them that pe-
rish ; the god of this world having blinded
their minds against the light of the glorious
gospel, &c.j no wonder if such stand in need
of a testimony. A blind man knows not
that it is light at noon-day, but by report :
but to those that have eyes, light is seen by
itself.
Again, it makes all other things that are
in themselves to become actually visible (as
they speak) ; so by the word of this substan-
tial Word, Jesus Christ, all things in reli-
gion are tried and discovered. The very au-
thority of the church which they obtrude so
confidently, must be stopped and examined
by these Scriptures, which they would make
stand to its courtesy. Doctrines and wor-
ship must be tried by this light ; and what
will not endure this trial, must not be en-
dured in the house of God. To the law
and to the testimony (says the prophet) : if
they speak not according to this word., it is
because (here is no light in them, Isa. viii.
20. The rays of Christ's light are displayed
through both his Testaments, and in them
we see him.
But oh ! how sublime is the knowledge
of him ! None is ignorant that there is light,
yet what light is, few know ; the best wits
are troubled to define it : so all that bear the
name of Christians acknowledge that Christ
is, but to know what he is, is of marvellous
difficulty. In a speculative way, unfound-
able is the depth of his nature and properties,
and his generation who can declare 9 says
our prophet. I define not, whether his eternal
generation, or his incarnation in time. These
are mysteries that shall hold the very angels
busy in admiration for ever ; and for experi-
mental knowledge by faith, how small is the
number of those that are truly acquainted
with it !
_ Again, light fitly resembles Christ in pu-
rity i it visits many impure places and lights
upon the basest parts of the earth, and yet
remains most pure and undefiled. Christ
sees and takes notice of all the enormities
and sinful pollutions in the world, as David
says of the sun, (Psalm xix. 6,) there is no.
thing hid from his beams ; yea, many of those
foul evils he cures, and purgeth away these
pollutions, and yet is never stained by them
in the least degree. He is a physician not
capable of infection, and therefore, while he
dwelt among men, he shunned not publicans
and sinners, but sought them rather ; foi :
with such was his business and employment.
Indeed, for a frail man to be too bold in fre-
quenting profane and obstinate persons,
though with intention to reclaim them, is not
always so safe. Metus est ne attrahant :
they may pull him in that would help them
forth, and pollute him that would cleanse
them. But our Saviour, the light of the
world, runs no such hazard ; he is stronger
than the most perverse sinner, yea, than the
prince of darkness himself, over whom his
banners are always victorious, and purer than
to be in danger of pollution. His precious
blood is a fountain opened for sin and un-
cleanness ; sinners are purified by it, and it
is not defiled by them. Thousands have
washed in it, yet it shall abide, and always
shall be more perfectly pure : And such a
high-priest was needful for us, aftr+vro;, wn-
dejiled ; and though conversant with sinners,
to communicate to them his goodness, yet
separate from sinners in immunity from their
evil, Heb. vii. 26.
To this agrees well that title the prophet
Malachi gives him, chap. iv. 2, when he calls
him the Sun of righteousness, full of purity
and righteousness, (as the sun is of light,)
all luminous, without spot, subject to no;
eclipse in himself, his light being his own,
though our sins interposing may hide him
sometimes from us, as those real eclipses in
the sun, are rather ours, for we are deprived
of light, but not the sun. Christ is many
ways most fitly called the sun ; for since all
created light falls infinitely short of his worth,
the prince and chief of them, the sun cannot
but suit best, so far as may be, to set forth
his excellency.
The light of the sun is neither parted nor
diminished, by being imparted to many
several people and nations that behold it at
one time ; nor is the righteousness of this
Sun of righteousness either lessened to him-
self, or to several believers, by many partak-
ing of it at once ; it is wholly conferred upon
each one of them, and remains whole in him-
self. Hence it is, that not only Christ in-
vites so liberally sinners to come to him, but
even justified persons would so gladly draw
all others to lay hold on this righteousness of
their Redeemer ; knowing well, that if all
the world were enriched by it, they them-
selves would be no whit the poorer.
Again, the sun hath a vivifying power,
not only of plants and vegetables, but, if
philosophers be right, Sol et homo generant
hominem ,• it hath a special influence in the
generation of man ; but it is both more cer-
tainly and more eminently true of this Sun
we speak of, in man's regeneration, that he
is the proper and principal efficient of it. '
The Evangelist calls him at once, The light
SERMON Vr.
373
and the life of men, John i. 4. To say no-
thing of him as a treasure, he is the source
of our spiritual life and motion.
When the sun takes its course towards us
in the season of the year, it drives away the
sharp frosts and the heavy fogs of winter, it
clears the heavens, decks the earth with va-
riety of plants and flowers, and awakes the
birds to the pleasant strains of their natural
music. When Christ, after a kind of winter-
absence, returns to visit a declining church,
admirable is the change that he produces;
all begins to flourish by his sweet influence ;
his house, his worship, his people, are all
clothed with a new beauty, but it is spiritual ;
and therefore none but spiritual eyes can dis-
cern it. When he will thus return, all the
power and policy of man can no more hinder
him, than it could stay the course of the sun
in its circle. In like manner} a deserted, for-
saken soul, that can do nothing but languish
and droop while Christ withdraws himself,
•what inexpressible vigour and alacrity finds
it at his returning ! Then those graces that,
while they lurked, seemed to have been lost
and quite extinguished, bud forth anew with
pleasant colour and fragrant smell. It is the
light of his countenance that banisheth their
false fears, that strengthens their faith, and
cures their spiritual infirmities. This Sun
is indeed the sovereign physician : Unto you
that fear my name, shall the Sun of righ-
teousness arise with healing under his
wings, Mai. iv. 2.
Finally, all darkness flies away before him :
it was his arising in the world that made the
day break and the shadows fly away. The
types and shadows of the law were then abo-
lished. It was his light that dispelled the
rnibts of ignorance and idolatry, and he alone
delivers the soul from the night of sin, and
misery procured by it : all the stars, and the
moon with them, cannot make it day in the
world ; this is the sun's peculiar : nor can
nature's highest light, the most refined
science and morality, make it day in the
soul ; for this is Christ's.
The common light of reason, every man
that comes into the world hath from him as
his Creator, but the special light of grace
they alone that are born again have from
him as their Saviour. Gross is the dark-
ness of every natural mind, till Christ en-
lighten it. It can neither discern nor re-
ceive the things of God, ou li^treu. Ye were
darknesf, (says the apostle,) but now are
you light in the Lord. It is nothing else
but a mass of darkness ; and the companion
of darkness is confusion, as it was in the
mass of the world before light was created
And what is there under heaven more con-
fused than a carnal mind ? — the affections
hey please. Now, to dissipate this darkness
and remedy this confusion, Christ shines ex.
ernally in his word : but too much daily
:xperience testifies, that this is not sufficient ;
.herefore to those whom he will make chil-
dren of the light, to meet with this outward
ight of his word, he gives another internal,
>y the Spirit. The sun can make dark
hings clear, but it cannot make a blind man
see them : but herein is the excellency of
this sun, that he illuminates not only the
object, but the faculty ; doth not only reveal
he mysteries of his kingdom, but opens
blind eyes to behold them. And the first
ineament of the renewed image of God in
man, is that light in the understanding, re-
moving not only that simple ignorance o.
divine things, but those misconceits likewise,
and false principles, and that wicked perti-
nacy, whereof man's mind is naturally full.
He that " at first commanded light to shine
out of darkness," infuseth saving knowledge
and light into the dark soul of man.
this light (as was said) kindles love.
And
It is
vehiculum caloris, hath a powerful influence,
segetting heat in the affections. Nor can
this divine light be ever again fully extin-
guished, but conducts the soul that hath re-
ceived it, till it be received to the land of
light and perfect happiness. Thus in our
Redeemer is the fountain of life, as the
Psalmist speaks : And in his light do we
see light, Psalm xxxvi. a.
He is likewise here styled, The glory of
the Lord. In 1 Sam. iv. 21, the ark of God
is called the glory, but itenjoyeth that name
as a type of Christ, in whom that now which
the ark contained was fulfilled. The taber-
nacle is called the dwelling of God's glory,
Psalm xxvi. 8, likewise typifying him in the
tabernacle, in whose human nature that glory
dwells far more excellently, John i. 14 :
" He dwelt in a taber-
nacle among us, and we saw his glory as
the glory of the only -begotten Son of God,
full of grace and truth." The author of the
epistle to the Hebrews calls him a.irat.vya.ff[ta.y
11 the brightness of his Father's glory, and
the character of his person," Heb. i. 3. And
under these expressions lies that remarkable
mystery of the Son's eternal relation to the
Father, which is rather humbly to be adored
than boldly to be explained, either by God's
perfect understanding of his own essence, or
by any other notion. It is true, he is called
the wisdom of the Father, but this wisdom
is too wonderful for us. He is called the
Word, but what this word means, I think,
we shall not well know .till we see him face
to face, and contemplate him in the light of
glory. Meanwhile we may see him to be
the glory of the Lord in a safer way, and
quite out of order, and though all naught, sufficient measure to guide us on to that
yet sometimes fighting one with another, and j clear vision reserved above for us. We sata
continually hurrying the judgment whither h is glory, says that sublime evangelist. But
374
SERMON V.
1 ow could this excellent glory be seen by
s'nful men, and not astonish and strike dead
the beholders ? He was made flesh, and dwelt
among us, (says he,) and so we saw his
glory. That majesty that we could never
have looked upon, he veiled with human
flesh, that we might not die, yea live, by
seeing him. There he stood behind the
wall, and shewed himself through the trellis
In him dwelt the fulness of the Godhead,
Col. ii. 9, but it was ffup.a.Tiy.*>t, bodily : for
who could have endured the splendour of the
Godhead's fulness, if that cloud of his body
had not been drawn betwixt ? And through
it did shine that grace and truth, that wis-
dom and power in the work of our redemp-
tion, whereby lie was clearly manifested to be
the glory of the Lord.
Surely we need not now ask the church,
or a believing soul, What is her beloved
more than another ? Or, if we do, well may
she answer, " He is the chiefest among ten
thousand, and altogether lovely :" for he is
the light of the world, and the glory of the
Lord. Let not the numerous ti ties of earthly
potentates be once admitted into comparison
with these. If we believe David, in his 62d
Psalm, 9th verse, the stateliest things and
persons in the world being balanced with
vanity itself, ar» found lighter than it : and
shall we offer to weigh them with Christ ?
If we knew him rightly, we would not sell
the least glance or beam of this light of his
countenance for the highest favour of mortal
men, though it were constant and unchange-
able, which it is not. It is ignorance of
Christ that maintains the credit of those vani-
ties we admire. The Christian that is truly
acquainted with him, enamoured with the
brightness of his beauty, can generously
trample upon the smilings of the world with
the one foot, and her frownings with the
other. If he be rich or honourable, or both,
yet he glories not in that, but Christ, who is
the glory of the Lord, is even then his chief-
est glory ; and the light of Christ obscures
that worldly splendour in his estimation.
And as the enjoyment of Christ overtops all
his other joys, so it overcomes his griefs.
As that great light drowns the light of pro-
sperity, it shines bright in the darkness of
affliction. No dungeon so close that can
keep out the rays of Christ's love from his
beloved prisoners. The world can no more
take away this light, than it can give it.
Unto the just ariselh light in darkness,
saith the Psalmist. And, When I sit in
darkness, the Lord shall be a light unto me,
says the church, in the ?th of Micah, 8th
verse. And as this light is a comfort, so it
is likewise a defence, that suffers no more of
distress to come near the godly than is profit-
able for them. Therefore we find very fre-
quently in Scripture, where this light and
glory is mentioned, protection and safely
jointly spoken'of : The Lord is my light, and
withal my salu nion, whom shall I fear ?
says David, Psalm xxvii. 1. The Lord is
a sun, and he is a shield too, Ps. Ixxxiv
11 ; and truly I think him shot-proof that
hath the sun for his buckler. And for glory ;
Upon all the glory shall be a defence, says
our prophet in his 4th chap. 5th ver; and
the Prophet Zechariah, where he calls the
Lord the church's glory in the midst of her,
he calls him likewise a wall of fire round
about her, Zech. ii. 5. The only way then
to be safe, is to keep this light and this glory
entire. To part with any part of this glory,
is to make a breach in that wall of fire ; and
if that be a means of safety, let all men judge.
No, keep it whole, and then they must come
through the fire that will assault you. Nor
is this light only defensive of the church that
embraceth it, but likewise destructive of all
adverse powers. See a clear testimony for
this in Isa. x. 17, 18 : "And the light of
Israel shall be for a fire, and his Holy One
for a flame," (speaking there of the Assy-
rians,) " and it shall burn and devour his
thorns and briers in one day, and shall con-
sume the glory of his forest, and of his fruit-
ful field, both soul and body ; and they shall
be as when a standard-bearer fainteth," &c.
Let ever, then, the church of God entirely
observe this light and glory of the Lord ;
and she shall undoubtedly be preserved by it.
But, to close in a word, first to those that
know this light, and then to those that are
yet strangers to it.
You who know Christ, glory in him per-
petually. Well may he be your glory, when
he is the glory of the Lord. There are some
that pretend love to Christ, and yet a taunt,
ing word of some profane miscreant will al-
most make them ashamed of him ; how would
they die for Christ that are so tender as not
to endure a scoff for him ? Where is that
spirit of Moses, that accounted the very re-
proaches of Christ greater riches than the
treasures of Egypt ? O, learn to glory in
Christ, think highly of him, and speak so
too. Methinks it is the discourse in the world
becomes Christians best, to be speaking
one to another honourably of Jesus Christ ;
and of all men, the preachers of his gospel
should be most frequent on this subject.
This should be their great theme, to extol
and commend the Lord Jesus, that they may
inflame many hearts with his love : and best
can they do this, who are most strongly taken
with this love themselves. Such will most
gladly abase themselves, that Christ may be
magnified ; and whatsoever be their excellen-
cies, they still account Christ their glory ;
and they are richly repaid, for he accounts
them his glory. This would seem a strange
word, if it were not the apostle's, " They are
the messengers of the churches, and the glory
of Christ," 2 Cor. viii. 23. Delight who
SERMON VI.
will either in sloth and ignorance on the one
hand, or in vain speculation and strains of
frothy wit on the other ; surely those preach-
ers shall only be approved in the great day,
•who have constantly endeavoured in their mea-
sure to speak the best and fittest they could
for their Master's advantage. And happy
those Christians, of what estate soever, that
in all estates make Christ their glory, and in
all actions have their eye fixed upon his glory,
who is their light and the glory of the Lord !
Now to those that are strangers to him,
(would to God none that are to be spoken to
were such !) to them, I say, notice should
be given both of the excellency and necessity
of Christ. Though it were possible to grope
the way to happiness in the dark, yet none
will deny but to be conducted thither by a
constant light, is both more safe and more
delightful. But were there any possibility
to attain that end without this light, the
neglect were not altogether so strange. The
wonder of all is this, that Christ alone being
both that life and the way to it, and the
truth or light that guides in that way, yet
Christians (so called) should esteem and
look after him as little as if he were wholly
needless. What meanest thou, O besotted
sinner ? Is it so light a thing to die in thy
sins, and eternally for them, that thou wilt
not so much as open and admit the light ol
salvation ? What shalt thou pretend in that
terrible day ? Though all other kind of peo-
ple should offer some excuse, thou who hast
heard the gospel shalt be speechless. For
not only shall the rigour of justice condemn
thee, but mercy itself shall plead against
thee ; for thou hast despised it. That light
did come and was not embraced, shall be the
main condemnation. How many thousands
that make no doubt of heaven, yet shall then
fall short of it ! It is not a superficial pro-
fession that will then pass current. It is no
some public sighs and groans from an un-
fanctified heart, which either come from cus-
tom, or some present touch of the word
nor yet is it some sudden risings of inwar
affection towards Christ, upon the report o
his worth, that shall then serve the turn
The intellective knowledge of Christ, the
distinct understanding, yea, the orthodos
preaching of his gospel, the maintaining o
his public cause, and suffering for it, shal
not then be found sufficient. Only that pe
culiar apprehension of Christ, those constan
flames of spiritual love, that even course o
holy walking in his light, shall be thos
characters whereby Christ shall own his chil
dren, and admit them into the inheritanc
of peifect light. One of the speakers in th
book of Job, discoursing of the prosperity
the ungodly, calls it but his candle, and tel]
how long it can last : His candle (says he
shall be put out with, him ; and that is th
longest term of it : if it last his life-time, i
lall convey him no further ; he goes into
ternity in the dark ; and, therefore, as St.
ohn says, he knows not whither he goeth.
Quo nunc alibis ? said that emperor to his
oul. Is it not a sad thing, when the soul
:iat knows no other but worldly light, must
ake leave of it, and enter into eternal dark-
less, there to be incessantly tormented with
>resent anguish, and the frightful expecta-
ion of the last judgment, where it must take
gain that body which was the accomplice of
ts wickedness, to be partaker of its punish*
ment : where it shall have a double misery
o behold crowns of immortality distributed to
he godly, after the short combats of this
ife, and itself thrust out among the devils ?
Then shall all men be some way sensible,
what is the worth of this now contemned light,
he Lord Jesus Christ : the greatest number
oo late, for they shall be banished from it
or ever. But the righteous shall then most
perfectly know, and for ever enjoy, this light
and glory of the Lord. " To whom, with
he Father of lights and Spirit of grace, be
eternity of praise and honour."
SERMON VI.
PREFACE.
W BAT shall it profit a man, if he gain
he whole world, and lose his own soul?
;aid our Saviour, who was to lay down a
ransom for it, and knew well that it would
cost infinitely more than the world was
worth. Yet the most of men value their
own souls at a far lower rate than the whole
world, losing them for broken morsels of
it ; yea, many times for vain hopes that
are never accomplished. And as these men
make a miserable bargain, so, by the con-
trary, they that lose the world, or any thing
worldly, yea, though it were the whole, to
save their souls, make a profitable loss of it.
Nature teaches men to hazard and lose all for
the life of the body, rather than lose it, (al-
though it prove many times very uncomfort-
able by the loss of these outward things,)
and yet the most part of men pass their whole
lifetime without one serious thought of the
excellency and importance of their souls,
whose life and happiness is of a higher nature,
and neither consists in nor depends upon any
thing here below. Hence it is, that wbHt-
they use the helps of this present life, and
the defences of it when it is in danger, and
use them with so much diligence and atten-
tion ; the means of that better life, of their
better part, their souls, they either use not at
all, or so slightly and coldly, that they never
find salvation in them. You may find it
some way in yourselves, the threatening and
376
SERMON VI.
preparations of men against you have awaken- ^gladness of it too. Thou hast put (
ed and roused you more to think upon means : in my heart, more than they hat
it gladness
roused you more to think upon means '-. in my heart, more tnan they have when
of your temporal safety ; but how few are sen- • their corn and wine increaseth, Psalm iv.
sible and afraid of the wrath of God, who, 7- And, therefore, while the rest are seek.
as our Saviour tells us, can kill both body
and soul, and cast them into hell ! You
want not frequent advertisement from the
word of God, so plentifully preached, tnat
many are perishing ; one part in gross igno-
rance of God, another in profane and licen-
tious living, and the greatest part in a for-
mal and lifeless profession of religion, with-
out the power of it : and yet where are they
that lay it to heart, and bestir themselves to
rescue their souls from destruction ? Cer-
tainly, whatsoever men profess, it is unbe-
lief thai is the cause of impenitence. Men
are not convinced of the purity of God's
nature, nor sensible of the impurity of their
own, therefore they apply not themselves
in good earnest to the work of repentance
and reformation, the liveliest part of it. La-
bour, then, for a more active and practical
knowledge of God and divine truths, such
as may humble and renew your souls; not
only that you may be delivered from out-
ward troubles that threaten you, but much
more that you may escape the wrath to come.
And because neither the word preached, nor
judgments, nor mercies, that are set before
you, are sufficient to quicken a dead soul, or
soften a hard heart, without the effectual
concourse of the Spirit of God, let us have
recourse to the throne of grace, by humble
and earnest prayer, in the name and media-
tion of Jesus Christ.
PSALM xlii. 8.
Yet the Lord will command his loving-
kindness in the day-time, and in the
night his song shall be with me, and my
prayer unto the God of my life.
MAN is born to trouble, as the sparks
fly upwards, saith Eliphaz, Job v. 7, and
as it is the corruption and sinfulness of his
birth and nature that has exposed him to
trouble, so nature usually sets him at work,
to look out for such things as may preserve
and deliver him from trouble, or, at least,
mitigate and temper the bitterness of it.
And because there is not any one worldly
thing that hath either certainty or sufficiency
enough to serve at all times, therefore world-
ly and natural men are forced to make use of
variety, and are but badly served with them
all. The believing soul hath but one corn-
is a great
fort whereon he relies, but it
one, which alone weighs down all the °rest.
Bread strengthens, and wine makes glad
the heart of man, (Psalm civ. 15 :) But
God is the strength of my heart, savs thp
»li T»« i • *. /r> i i "• « •? Ja ule —"fv- ia ncic, nicy say, true. apes esc ?i«-
thePsalm,St, (Psalm Ixxm. 26,) and the\men loni incerti ; but this can say, the
ing after some scattered crumbs of goodness
in the creatures, who will shew us any good,
he fixes his choice upon this one thing — the
light of God's countenance. And it is the
constant assurance of this that upholds him.
" Waves beat upon him, yea, and go over
him, yet the Lord will command his loving-
kindness to shine upon him."
In this Psalm we may perceive the Psal-
mist full of perplexed thought, and that be-
twixt strong desires and griefs ; and yet, in
the midst of them, now and then, some ad-
vantage, and intermixing strains of hope,
with his sad complaints : for, immediately
before, we heard nothing but the impetuous
noise of many waters, deep calling unto
deep, in the former verse. We have here,
as it were, a touch of the sweet sound ot
David's harp, " Yet the Lord will command
his loving-kindness in the day-time," &c.
In these words we have David's confi-
dence and David's purpose ; the one suiting
very well with the other. His confidence in
God's loving-kindness — " Yet the Lord will
command his loving-kindness ;" and his
purpose — " And in the night his song shall
be with me."
It is true, those words (in the night his
song shall be with me) may be taken as a
part of the expression of his confidence,
taking his song for the matter or subject ot
the song, the goodness of God ; as if he
should say, " Both in the day and in the
night, I shall find the sweet fruits of God's
favour and loving-kindness." But not ex-
cluding that, I rather take it intended as his
resolution, that it should be his custom, in
the quiet season of the night, to look "back
upon God's goodness manifested to him in
the actions and occurrences of the day ; and
thus entertaining his soul with that secret
discourse, he would stir it up to the praises
of his God, and withal, would join prayer
for the continuance and further manifesta-
tion of it. David (as is hinted before) in-
termixes strains of hope, not that faint and
common hope of possibility or probability,
that after stormy days it may be better witli
him, but a certain hope that shall never
make ashamed ; such a hope as springs from
faith, yea, in effect, is one with it. Faith
rests upon the goodness and truth of him
that hath promised ; and hope, raising itself
upon faith so established, stands up and
looks out to the future accomplishment of
the promise. Therefore the apostle, Heb.
xi. 1, calls faith the substance of things
hoped for, vvo<rra,<ris, and the evidence
of things not seen ; of all other, wavering
hope is here, they say, true. Spes est no
SERMON VI.
377
Lord will command his loving-kindness,
&c.
The Lord icill command. What a sud-
den change is here ! Would you think this
were the same man that was even now al-
most overwhelmed ? Thus faith always
conquers, though seldom or never without
hard conflict, not only assaulted by troubles
without, but, which is worse, by incredulity
within : nor assaulted only, but many times
brought under, yet does it not succumb and
give over, knowing, that even after many
foils, yet in the end it shall overcome.
His confidence you may consider, first, op-
positely, and then positively, or simply in it-
self. Oppositely both to his present trouble,
and to his complaints, wherein his trouble is
expressed, and that is fitly implied, though
it be not in the original.
Though the multitude and weight of
Job's afflictions did force out of him some
bitter words, and made him look back upon
the day of his birth, and curse it ; yet faith
recovers him from his distemper, and makes
him look forward with joy, even as far as to
the blessed day of his resurrection, Job xix.
25, 20 : "I know that my Redeemer liveth,
and that he shall stand at the latter day
upon the earth : and though after my skin,
worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh
shall I sse God."
The former words of impatience he spake
indeed, hut he adheres to these, and wishes
that they were " written with an iron pen,
and engraven to abide for ever." Therefore
we hear of him again in Scripture, as a
righteous and patient man, but of these
words of his impatience not a word. In the
77th Psalm, what sad expostulations are
these the Psalmist uses ! " Will he be fa-
vourable no more ? Is his mercy clean
gone for ever ? Doth his promise fail for
evermore ? Hath God forgotten to be gra-
cious ? Hath he in anger shut up his ten-
der mercies ?" But see how he corrects
them, ver. 10 : Then I said, this is my in-
firmity, but I will remember the years of
the right hand of the Most High. Thus Jo-
nah, chap. ii. ver. 3, 4, much like this ; but
there, literally true. And here, deep calls
unto deep, yet in the midst of those deeps,
faith is not drowned ; you see it lifts up its
head above water — Yet the Lord will com-
mand, &c. Yea, though it takes particular
notice of God's hand in the affliction, yet it
goes not to another hand for comfort. Thy
waves and thy b'llows ; yet that same God,
whose waves are like to destroy me, will ere
long command " his loving-kindness to
shine upon me." " Though he slay me,
yet will I trust in him," Job xiii. 15
A wonderful expression of faith ! He says
not, •' Though he afflict me sore," but,
" Though he slav me ;" not, " Though evil
men or Satan should do it," but, " Though
he slay me, yet will I trust in him." What
troubled mind can imagine any thing harder
against itself than this ?
1. Learn then to check these excessive
doubts and fears by some such resolute word
as this. Turn the promise, first upon thy-
self, and then upon God. Consider that he
hath promised life eternal to believers, and
then say, " Though I saw his hand, as it
were, lift up to destroy me, yet from that
very hand will I expect salvation ; for I
have his word engaged for it, that if I be-
lieve, I shall be saved." I do not say, that
a soul under temptation can assure itself
that God is already reconciled to it, (and
herein possibly lies oftentimes the mistake,)
for this reflex act of assurance, though it be
our duty to seek after it, itself is rather a
gift and reward than a duty. But the di-
rect and proper act of faith is of perpetual
use and necessity, and then most when there
is least sense of assurance. And it is no
other but a recumbency or a reliance, rolling
over the soul upon free mercy. That which
breeds us much perplexity is, that we would
invert God's order. " If I knew (say some)
that the promise belonged to me, and Christ
were a Saviour to me, I could believe ;"
that is to say, would first see, and then be.
lieve. But the true method is just contrary :
/ had fainted, says David, unless I had
believed to see the goodness of the Lord.
He believed at first, and saw it afterwards.
And in this same Psalm, labouring to still
his disquieted soul, by elevating it above his
troubles, to look upon his God ; he says to
it, " Hope in him now, and ere it be long,
thou shall praise him for the help of his
countenance," even while his countenance is
withheld. And thus faith ought to triumph
over spiritual fears and difficulties.
2. How incongruous is it, that outward
dangers or trials should overmatch it ! Will
you trust God, upon his word, for salvation
and eternal happiness, and be diffident for
the safety and needful blessings of this tem-
poral life, which life, in comparison, is but
a moment, and the best things of it but
dross ? Consider that you dishonour faith
exceedingly, and degenerate from the be-
lieving saints of former ages. Indeed, the
promises of this life, and that which con-
cerns it, though godliness hath them, yet
they are not so absolute, nor are they so ab-
solutely needful for you. But, considering
the wisdom and love of your heavenly Fa-
ther, learn to compose your minds by it.
I icill not be afraid, though te*i thou-
sands of the people set themselves against
me round about, says David, Psalm iii. 6.
And, lest you think him singular, in the
46th Psalm, it is the joint voice of the
whole church of God — " We will not fear,
though the earth be removed, and the moun-
tains be cast into the midst of the sca^
SERMON VI.
though the waters thereof roar and be troubled ;
though the mountains shake with the swell-
ing thereof. There is a river, the streams
whereof make glad the city of God r the holy
place of the tabernacle of the most high God
is in the midst of her ; she shall not be mov.
ed." That is the way to be immoveable in
the midst of troubles, as a rock amidst the
waves. When God is in the midst of a
kingdom or city, he makes it firm as Mount
Sion, that cannot be removed. When he is
in the midst of the soul, though calamities
throng about it on all hands, and roar like
the billows of the sea, yet there is a constant
calm within, such a peace as the world can
neither give nor take away. On the other
side, what is it but want of lodging God in
the soul, and that, in his stead, the world is
in the midst of men's hearts, that makes them
shake like the leaves of trees at every blast
of danger? What a shame is it, seeing
natural men, by the strength of nature and
help of moral precepts, have attained such
undaunted resolution and courage against
outward changes, yet they that would pass
for Christians, are so soft and fainting, and
so sensible of the smallest alterations ! The
advantage that we have in this regard is in-
finite : what is the best ground-work of a
philosopher's constancy, but as moving sands
in comparison of the rock that we may build
upon ? But the truth is, that either we
make no provision of faith for times of trial,
or if any we have, we neither know the worth
nor the use of it, but lay it by, as a dead,
unprofitable thing, when we should most use
and exercise it. Notwithstanding all our
frequenting of God's house, and our plau-
sible profession, is it not too true, that the
most of us either do not at all furnish our-
selves with these spiritual arms, that are so
needful in the militant life of a Christian, or
we learn not how to handle them, and are
not in readiness for service ? As was the
case of that improvident soldier, whom his
commander found mending some piece of
his armour, when they were to give battle.
It were not amiss, before afflictions overtake
us, to try and train the mind somewhat by
supposing the very worst and hardest of them.
To say, " What if the waves and billows
of adversity were swelled and flowing in
upon me, could I then believe ? God hath
said, 7 will not fail thee, nor forsake thee,
with a heap of negociations ; in no wise I
will not. He hath said, When thou pass-
est through the fire and through the water,
I will be with thee. These I know, and
can discourse of them. But could I repose
and rest upon them in the day of trial ?"
Put your souls to it : is there any thing or
person that ^ou esteem and love exceeding-
ly; say, What if I should lose this ? Is
there some evil that is naturally more con- 1
trary and terrible to you than many others ? j
Spare not to present that to the imagination
too, and labour to make faith of it before-
hand in case it should befal you, and if the
first thought of it scare you, look upon it the
oftencr, till the visage of it become familiar
to you, that you start and scare no more at it.
Nor is there any danger in these thoughts.
Troubles cannot be the nearer by thus think,
ing on them : but you may be both safer
and stronger by breathing and exercising of
your faith in supposed cases- But if you be
so tender-spirited, that you cannot look upon
calamities so much as in thought or fancy,
how would you be able for a real encounter ?
No, sure. But the soul that hath made
God his stay, can do both ; see it in that
notable resolution of the prophet, Hab. iii.
17 — 19 : " Although the fig-tree shall not
blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines,
the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields
shall yield no meat, the flock shall be cut off
from the fold, and there shall be no herd in
the stalls : yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will
joy in the God of my salvation. The Lord
God is my strength." And in David, Psalm
xxiii. 4 : " Yea," (says he,) " though I
walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil, for thou art with me ; thy
rod and thy staff, they comfort me." You
see how faith is as cork to his soul, keeping
it from sinking in the deeps of afflictions.
Yea, that big word which one says of his
morally just man is true of the believer, si
fractus illabatur orbis ; though the very
fabric of the world were falling about him, yet
would he stand upright and undaunted in the
midst of its ruins.
In this confidence, considered in itself, we
may observe, 1. The object of it — The lov-
ing-kindness of the Lord. 2. The manner
or way by which he expects to enjoy it — The
Lord will command it. 3. The time — in
the day.
His loving -kindness. He says not, " Re-
turn to the house of God, for deliverance
from the heavy oppression and sharp reproach,
es of the enemy," which would have answer-
ed more particularly and expressly to his pre-
sent griefs ; but his loving-kindness. And
the reason of thus expressing himself, I con-
ceive to be twofold. 1. In the assurance of
this is necessarily comprised the certainty of
all other good things. This special favour
and benignity of the Lord, doth engage his
power and wisdom (both which you know
are infinite) to the procurement of every thing
truly good, for those whom he so favours.
Therefore it is, that David chooses rather to
name the streams of particular mercies in
this their living source and fountain, than to
specify them severally. Nor is it only thus
more compendious, but fuller too, which are
the two great advantages of speech, and this
I take to be the other reason. 2. A man
may enjoy great deliverances and many posi-
SERMON VI.
370
live benefits from the hand of God, and yet
nave no share in his loving-kindness. How
frequently doth God heap riches, and honour,
and health, on those he hates, and the com-
mon gifts of the mind too, wisdom and learn-
ing, yea, the common gifts of his own Spirit.
»nd gives a fair and long day of external pro-
sperity to those on whom he never vouch-
safed the least glance of his favourable coun-
tenance, yea. on the contrary, gives all those
specious gifts to them with a secret curse !
As here he gave a king in wrath to his people,
so he often gives kingdoms in his wrath to
kings. Therefore David looks higher than
the very kingdom which God promised him,
and gave him, when he speaks of his loving-
kindness. In a word, he resolves to solace
himself with the assurance of this, th ough he
was stripped of all other comforts, and to quiet
his soul herein, till deliverance come ; and
when it shall come, and whatsoever mercies
with it, to receive them as fruits and effects
of this loving-kindness : not prizing them
so much for themselves, as for the impressions
of that love which is upon them. And it is
that image and superscription that both en-
gages and moves him most to pay his tribute
of praise. And truly this is every where
David's temper ; his frequent distresses and
wants never excite him so much to desire
any particular comfort in the creature, as to
entreat the presence and favour of God him-
self. His saddest times are, when, to his
sense, this favour is eclipsed. In my pro-
sperity I faid, I shall not be moved. And
what was his adversity, that made him of ano-
ther mind ? Thou hiddest thy face, and J
teas troubled. This verifies his position in
that same Psalm — //* thy favour is life.
Thus, in the G3d Psalm, at the beginning,
" My soul thirsteth for thee in a dry land,
where there is no water," not for water where
there is none, but for thee where there is no
water. Therefore lie adds, in verse 3, Thy
loving-kindness is better than life : and all
that be truly wise, and of this mind, will
subscribe to his choice. Let them enjoy this
loving-kindness and prize it, that whatever
befals them, their happiness and joy is above
the reach of all calamities. Let them be de-
rided and reproached abroad, yet still this in-
ward persuasion makes them glad and con-
tented : as a rich man said, " Though the
people hated and taunted him, yet, when he
came home and looked upon his chests,
Egomet mihi plaudo domi." With how
much better reason do believers bear out ex-
ternal injuries ! What inward contentment,
when they consider themselves truly enriched
with the favour of God ! And as this makes
them contemn the contempts that the world
puts upon them, so likewise it breeds in them
a neglect and disdain of those poor trifles that
the world admires. The sum of their desire
is, (as that Cynic's was of the sun-shine,)
that the rays of the love of God may shine
constantly upon them. The favourable as-
pect and large proffers of kings and princes
would be unwelcome to them, if they should
stand betwixt them and the sight of that sun;
and truly they have reason. What are the
highest things the world affords ? What
are great honours and great estates, but great
cares and griefs well dressed and coloured
over with a show of pleasure, that promise
contentment, and perform nothing but vexa-
tion ? That they are not satisfying, is evi-
dent ; for the obtaining of much of them doth
but stretch the appetite, and teach men to de-
sire more. They are not solid neither. Will
not the pains of a gout, of a stranguary, or
some such malady, (to say nothing of the
worst, the pains of a guilty conscience,) blast
all these delights ? What relish finds a man
in large revenues and stately buildings, in
high preferments and honourable titles, when
either his body or mind is in anguish ? And
besides the emptiness of all these things, you
know they want one main point, conthiuance.
But the loving-kindness of God hath all re-
quisites to make the soul happy. O satisfy
its early with thy goodness, (or mercy,) says
Moses, that we may rejoice and be glad all
our days, Psalm xc. 14. There is fulness
in that for the vastest desires of the soul —
satisfy us ; there is solid contentment that
begets true joy and gladness ; and there is
permanency all our days. It is the only com-
fort of this life, and assurance of a better.
This were a large subject to insist on, but
certainly the naming of his loving-kindness
should beget in each heart an high esteem of
it, an ardent desire after it. And if it do so
with you, then know that it is only to be
found in the way of holiness. He is a holy
God, and can love nothing that is altogether
unlike himself. There must always be some
similitude and conformity of nature to ground
kindness and friendship, and to maintain it.
That saying is true, Idem velle et idem
nolle — -firma amicitia. What gross self-
flattery is it to think that God's loving-kind-
ness can be towards you, while you are in love
with sin, which he so perfectly hates ! How
can tHe profane swearer or voluptuous person,
or the oppressor and covetous, or the close
hypocrite, (worse than any of them,) rest
npon the loving-kindness of the Lord in the
day of troubles ? No, sure. But the terror
of his wrath shall be added to all their other
calamities ; and they shall find it heavier than
all the rest. God will not pour this precious
oil of gladness, this persuasion of his love,
into filthy vessels. Even his own children,
when they grieve and sadden his holy Spirit
by unholiness, shall be sadly punished by the
withdrawing of these comforting and sensible
expressions of his love.
Labour, then, you that as yet never tasted
of this love, to know what it means. Forsake
380
SERMON VI.
and hate that which hitherto has made you
strangers to it ; for if you obtain this, it shall
comfort you when these things cannot, but
would rather prove your greatest torment.
And you that have received any testimonies
of it, entertain it carefully ; for it is your best
comfort both in your best days, and in your
worst days too.
You would all gladly be delivered from
these many evils that threaten you ; for many
they be indeed, and peace is a great blessing.
But suppose you were secured from all these
fears, and he should command a sudden
calm, (which truly he can do,) would you
then think yourselves happy ? That life of
yours which you so fear to lose by fire or
sword, though you had peace, would ere long
fall into the hands of some ague, or fever, or
consumption, and perish by them, or at the
longest, a few years will end it ; it is a light-
ed candle, that, though nobody blow out,
will quickly burn out of itself. But this lov-
ing-kindness is not so short-lived, it shall
last as long as your souls ; and so long as it
lasts, they shall be happy. Those goods that
you fear shall be pillaged and spoiled in war ;
how many hazards are they subject to even in
peace ! Solomon tells yuu, that riches often-
times (though nobody take them away) make
themselves wings and fly away. And truly,
many times the undue sparing of them is but
the letting of their wings grow, which makes
them readier to fly away ; and the contribut-
ing a part of them to do good only clips their
wings a little, and makes them stay the longer
with their owner : but this by the way. How-
soever, in the day of death, and in the day
of wrath, as Solomon says, they profit nothing
at all, Prov. xi. 4. So, then, though you
may desire that God would command deli-
verance for you, yet if you would be truly
happy, your greater and more earnest suit
would be, that he command his loving-kind-
ness to appear to your souls. And having
once obtained this, you may possibly be per-
secuted, and endure hard trials, but one thing
is made sure, you cannot be miserable ; nor
shall you want temporal mercies and preser-
vation too, so far as they are good for^ you.
The inward assurance of this love shall carry
you strangely and sweetly through all outward
vicissitudes ; and when the day shall come,
that all other comforts shall look pale upon
you, then shall you find the worth and hap-
piness of this more than 'ever before.
Command. Make it appear tome. Some-
times God is said to shut up and hide his
love from his children, and that is a mourn,
ful time with them. But we read not that
he shuts out love, and ceaseth altogether to
have affection to those whom once he lov-
ed ; and, therefore, when he shews him-
self again in the gracious manifestations of
his mercy, he is not said to begin anew
to Jove them but only to command his
love, which ere while lie had countermanded
to appear.
In the day. If you have a mind to take
the day and night figuratively, for prosperous
and adverse times, it would lead you, in that
sense, to observe David's constancy in God's
praises, that not only in the day of deliver-
ance, but even in the night of distress, ht
resolved a song for God. And, truly, many
times God gives his children in an afflicted
condition, more sweetness of spirit and apti-
tude, not only to pray, but to praise, and
more spiritual delight in himself, than in
times of outward peace and prosperity. He
giveth songs in the night, said Job ; and you
know the sound of music is most delightful
in the night. But to take it properly, he is
confident that in the several actions and oc-
currences of the day, he should find the good-
ness and favourable assistance of the Lord ;
and then he resolves, which leads to the other
part of the text,
" In the night-time to meditate on that
goodness, and frame a song of praise to the
author of it."
And, indeed, what is the whole thread of
our life but a chequered twist, black and
white, of delights and dangers interwoven ?
And the happiest passing of it is, constantly
to enjoy and to observe the experiences of
God's goodness, and to praise him for them.
David was a wise king, and withal, a valiant
soldier, and yet we see he thought not this ex-
perience inconsonant with either of these two
conditions. This precious book of Psalms,
(a great part thereof being his,) testifies clear-
ly, that prayer and praises were his great em-
ployment. A religious disposition of mind
may not only consist with fortitude and mag-
nanimity, but is indeed the best principle and
cause of both, contrary to the wicked and
foolish opinion of profane persons. Whether
of the two, do you think, might welcome a
day of battle with most courage and resolu-
tion, he that had past the preceding night in
revelling and carousing, or he that had spent
it in prayer, and 6btained some assurance of
a better life ? Truly if they went on with
equal forwardness, there is no man, except he
were an Atheist, but would judge the one to
be brutish fury and precipitation, and the
other true valour.
His song. In the worse estate there is
ever some matter of praise to be mixed with
request ; and truly we may justly suspect that
our neglect of praises makes our prayers un-
acceptable.
And my prayer. In the best estate here
below, praise must be accompanied with prayer.
Our wants, and necessities, and straits, re-
turn daily upon us, and require new supplies
of mercy ; and prayer, if we know how to use
it right, is the way to obtain tnem all.
To the God of my life ; or, the God that
is my life. This word is added, as the rea-
SERMON VII.
361
son of all that went before. If you ask
David, Why he reposeth so much upon the
loving-kindness of God ; what he means to
spend so much pains in praises and prayer to
God ? He answers, " Because he is my
life. He is the author and preserver of my
temporal life ; and all the passages and acci-
dents of it are in his hand alone ; he hath
also given me, and he maintains in me, a spi-
ritual life, yea, he is the life of my soul ; it
lives by union with him, as my body does by
union with it, and he hath laid up life eternal
for me." Would Christians think thus in-
deed, the light of this consideration would
dispel their distrustful fears. Certainly there
is Atheism at the bottom of them ; if not a
denial or a misconceit of God, at least a for-
getfulness of God. See Isaiah li. 12, 13 :
" I, even I, am he that comforteth you :
Who art thou, that thou shouldest be afraid
of a man that shall die, and of the son of man,
which shall be made as grass, and forgettest
the Lord thy Maker, that hath stretched forth
the heavens, and laid the foundations of the
earth," &c. ? Consider, then, that men have
no power of our present life, but by the ap-
jointment of God. And beside that, we
have another life, which is infinitely more
precious than this, a life spiritual, and which
is the beginning of eternal life ; and this is
altogether out of their danger. Col. iii. 3,
•< Our life is hid with Christ in God." It
is hid, and wicked men cannot so much as
see it : how, then, should they take it from
us, seeing it is hid, and that not meanly, it
is hid with Christ in God ? What then
shall become of it ? Read the next verse, and
read it to your comfort, for there is abun-
dance in it, if you look right upon it :
" When Christ, who is our life, shall appear,
we like wise* shall appear with him in glory."
They that are in God, being united to him
through Christ, can never by any power be
separated from him. It is an indissoluble
union : death itself, thafis the great dissolver
of all other unions, civil and natural, is so
far from untying this, that it consummates
it ; it conveys the soul into the nearest and
fullest enjoyment of God, who is its life,
where it shall not need to desire that God
would command or send his loving-kindness,
as it were at a distance ; it shall be then at
the spring-head, and shall be satisfied with
his love for ever, &c.
SERMON VII.
PREFACE.
Wherefore do you spend money for that
which is not bread, and your labour for that
which satisfies not ? says the Prophet, Isa.
Jv. 2. All men agree in this, that they
would willingly meet with some satisfying
good ; and yet, if you look right upon' the
projects and labours of the greatest part, you
shall find them flying from it, and taking
much pains to be miserable. And, truly,
considering the darkness that is upon the
soul of man, it is no great wonder to see
those miss their way and continue wan.
dering, that hear not the voice of the gospel
to recall them, and see not its light to di-
rect them. But this is somewhat strange,
that where true happiness, and the true way
to it, is propounded and set before men, so
few should follow it in good earnest. If the
excellency of that good did not allure them,
yet one would think that their many disap-
pointments in all other things should drive
them home to it. How often do we run our-
selves out of breath after shadows ! And when
we think we have overtaken them, and would
lay hold on them, we find nothing. And
yet, still we love to befool ourselves, even
against our own experience, which, we say,
uses to make fools wiser. Still we choose
rather to shift from one vanity to another,
than to return to that sovereign good that
alone can fill the vastest desires of our souls ;
rather to run from one broken cistern to an-
other, as the prophet calls them, yea, and
to take pains to hew them out, than have re-
course to that Fountain of living waters.
One main thing that makes men thus rove
and wander, is, that they do not reflect upon
their own course nor themselves, what is the
main end they aim at, and then see whether
their way be suitable to that end. If they
would be happy, (as who would not ?) then,
sure, things that are empty and uncertain,
and certainly perishing, will not serve their
turn. And, truly, as this thought would be
seasonable at any time, so especially to us in
these times, wherein, besides the common
uncertainty of outward things, there is an
apparent visible hazard that men's lives and
fortunes are likely to be put to. Will you
mane advantage and. gain of your trouble ?
Thus the loser, you find other things tied to
you, and as it were upon a running knot ;
secure that one thing, and your portion in it,
which is worth all the rest, yea, far above
them all, and that alone which can be secur-
ed and made certain. Wanting this, what
though you had peace and health, and all
imaginable prosperity, you would still be
miserable, being liable to the wrath of God
and eternal destruction. But if once united
to Christ, and in him reconciled to God, and
entitled to heaven, what can fall amiss to you ?
You shall have joy in the midst of sorrow and
affliction, and peace in the midst of war, yea,
and life in death. But think not to attain
this assurance while you continue profane and
godless, not seeking it in the way of holi-
ness ; for there alone it is to be found, and,
withal, beg it of God b humble prayer.
382
SERMON VII.
PSALM cxix. 136.
Rivers of waters run down mine eyes, be-
cause they keep not thy law.
LOVE is the leading passion of the soul ;
'all the rest follow the measure and motion of
it, as the lower heavens are said to be wheel-
ed about with the first.
We have here a clear instance of it in the
Psalmist, testifying his love to God, by his
esteem and love of the law or the word of
God. What is each of the several verses of
this Psalm, but a several breathing and vent
of this love, either in itself, or in the causes,
or in the effects of it ? Where he sets forth
the excellencies and utilities of God's law,
there you have the causes of his love ; his
observing and studying it, his desire to know
it more, and observe it better, these are the
effects of his affection to it. The love itself
he often expresseth, ver. 27, 28, 113, 140 :
" Thy word is pure, therefore thy servant
loveth it." And ver. 12? ; "I love thy
commandments above gold, yea, above fine
gold." But as scarce accounting that love
which can be uttered now much it is, ver.
97, he expresseth it most, by intimating
that he cannot express it — O how I love thy
law ! Hence are his desires (which are
lost in pursuit) so earnest after it. Amongst
many that is pathetical, ver. 20 : " My soul
breaketh for the longing that it hath unto thy
judgments at all times," Hence likewise
his joy and delight, (which are love in pos-
session,) ver. 14, " I have rejoiced in the
way of thy testimonies, as in all riches ;" and
ver. 16, "I will delight myself in thy sta-
tutes ; I will not forget thy word." We
have his hatred of things opposite, which is
love's antipathy, ver. 113, " I hate vain
thoughts ; but thy law do I love." And ver.
163, " I hate and abhor lying ; but thy law
do J love." And in ver. 139, you shall find
his zeal, (which is no other but the fire of
love stirred up or blown into a flame,) " My
zeal hath consumed me, because mine enemies
have forgotten thy words." And (to omit the
rest) in ver. 158, his love to the law shews
its sympathy in sorrow, for the violation of
the law : u I beheld the transgressors, and
was grieved, because they kept not thy word.
And here you find this grief swelling to such
a height, that it runs over into abundant
tears. " Rivers of waters run down mine
eyes, because they keep not thy law."
The words have briefly these rivers in their
channel and course — They run down mine
eyes ; in their spring and cause, to-wit, his
sympathy with God's law broken by men, in
the latter clause of the verse— Because they
Keep not thy law. But both together clearly
teach us, « That godly men are affected with
deep sorrow for the sins of the ungodly."
More particularly consider, (1.) The ob-
ject of this affection. (2.) The nature of it.
(3.) The degree or measure of it. (4.) Its
subject.
I. The object is, the transgression of the
law, or to take it (as in the text) in concreto,
men, transgressors o^ the law. They keep
not thy law. It is true, the whole creation
groaneth under the burden of sin in effects
of it, as the apostle speaks ; but sin itself
is man's enemy, he being that reasonable
creature to whom the law was given. Now
in the general, it is matter of grief to a god-
ly mind, to consider the universal depraved,
ness of man's nature ; that he is a " trans-
gressor from the womb ;" that " the carnal
mind is enmity against God, not subject to
his law, neither," while it remains such,
" can it be," Rom. viii. 7- And this
grief will go the deeper, by remembering
from whence he is fallen. When he was new
come forth of the hands of his Maker, that
image of God that he stamped upon him,
shined bright in his soul : the whole frame
of it was regular and comely, the inferior
faculties obeying the higher, and all of them
subject unto God. But how soon was h3
seduced, and then what a great change en-
sued ! Quantum mutatus alt illo ! There
is ever since such a tumult and confusion in
the soul, that it cannot hear the voice of God's
law, much less obey and keep it.
Hence is that complaint of the Psalmist
oftener than once, " They are all gone out of
the way, and become abominable ; there is
none that doth good, no, not one." Mundus
immundus m adixia xurai lies buried in it.
as the word is used in die inscription of
tombs, tdadt xtiTui. Look abroad in the world,
and what shall ye see, but a sea of wicked-
ness over the face of the whole, which draws
from a godly, discerning eye that beholds
it, these rivers of tears ? The greatest part
not knowing the true God, nor the true reli-
gion, and the true way of his worship. And
for those that do, yet how unlike are they
to it in their lives ! The reformed churches
this way, how unreformed in a great part !
But more particularly, to branch this out
a little in several sorts of men ; this godly
grief is a very large sphere, it will extend to
remote people, remote every way, not only in
place, but in manners and religion, even to
heathens and gross idolaters. Yea, the very
sins of enemies, and of such as are professed
enemies to God, yet moves the tender-heart-
ed Christian to sorrow
and compassion :
" Of whom I now tell you weeping, that
they are enemies to the cross of Christ,"
Philip, iii. 18. Enemies, and yet he speaks
of them weeping ! What he writes concern-
ng them he would have written in tears, if
that had been legible. Thus you see the
extension of this grief. But yet, out of all
question, it will be more intensive in particu-
SERMON VII.
383
lira of nearer concernment. It is the burden] «ith marking the sin of others, as thePhar-
_r *i .- — »„ i,««w. *i,™* T,:. i 1 — risee did in the gospel. (3.) Not the deri-
of the pious man's heart, that his law who
made the world, and gives being to all things,
should be so little reg.mled, and so much
broken through all the world ; but yet more
especially, that in his own church, amongst
his own people, transgression should abound.
sion and mocking the folly of men, with that
laughing philosopher ; it comes near to the
temper of the other, that wept always for it.
It is not a bitter, bilious anger, breaking
forth into railings and reproaches, nor an
Sins within the church are most properly upbraiding insultation. Nor is it a vindic-
scandals; God manifests himself (so to speak) live desire of punishment, venting itself ii:
most sensible of these, and therefore the god- curses and imprecations, which is the rash
ly man is so too. Whether they be the con. temper of many, but especially of the vulgar
tinual enormities of licentious and profane sort. The disciples' motion to Christ was fai
persons, which are by external profession in different from that way, and yet he says to
the face of ihe visible church, though indeed them, Ye know not of what spirit ye are.
they be in it, but as spots and blemishes, as They thought they had been of Elias's spirit,
the apostle speaks: or whether it be the but he told them they were mistaken, and did
apostacy of hypocrites, or (which sometimes not know of what a spirit they were in that
falls out the gross falls of true converts, j motion. Thus heady zeal often mistakes and
All these are the great grief of the godly I flatters itself. We find not here a desire of
The relations of men, either natural or ci\ II,
will add something too. This sorrow will
be greater than ordinary in a Christian ; he
»ilJ melt in a particular tenderness for the
tins- of his kindred, parents or children, hus-
band or wife ; and most of all, ministers for
their people. How pathetically does this
appear in St. Paul, 2 (.'or. xii. 21 : "And
lest, when I come again, my God will hum-
ble me among you, and that 1 shall bewail
inany which have sinned already, and have
not repented of the uncleanness, and fornica-
tion, and lasciviousness, which they have
committed" ! A man cannot but be more
particularly touched with the sins of tha'
nation, and of that city and congregation and
family whereof he is a member. 2 Pet. ii.
8 : " For that righteous man dwelling amonjr
them, in seeing and hearing, vexed hisright-
teous soul, from day to day, with their un-
lawful deeds." The sins of more eminent
persons, either in church or commonwealth,
will most affect a prudent Christian, because
fire to come down from heaven upon the break-
ers of the law, but such a grief as would ra-
ther bring waters to quench it, if it were
falling on them. Rivers of waters, &c.
III. The degree of this sorrow ; it is ve-
hement, not a light, transient dislike, but a
deep resentment, such as causeth not some
few sighs, or some drops of tears, but ri-
vers.* It is true, the measure and degree of
sorrow for sin, whether their own or others',
are different in divers persons, that are yet
true mourners ; and they are also different
in the same persons, at divers times, not
only upon the difference of the cause, but
even where the cause is equal, upon the dif.
ferent influence and working of the Spirit wf
God. Sometimes it pleaseth him to warm
and melt the heart more abundantly, and sc
he raises these rivers, in these eyes, to a
higher tide than ordinary. Sometimes they
remove again, but yet this godly sorrow is
always serious and sincere ; and that is the
other quality here remarkable in it. It is
f * L *
their inclinations and actions import thej not a histrionical weeping, only in public ;
public much. Therefore the apostle, when
he had exhorted to supplications and prayers
for all men, he particularly mentions kings,
and such as are in authority. And truly!
for the speech is here directed to God, as a
more frequent witness of these tears than any
other, who is always the witness of the since-
rity of them, even when they cannot be hid
when they are abused by misadvice and ccr-jfrom the eyes of men, (for I deny not but
rupt counsel, some of these tears were very! they may and should have vent in publk, es-
well spent, if poured forth before God in i pecially at such times as are set apart for
their behalf ; for in his hand (as that wise j solemn mourning and humiliation). Yet,
king confesseth) are their hearts, compared] even then, usually these streams run deepest,
to rivers of waters. LH their motion bei where they are stillest and most quietly con«
ever so impetuous, yet he turns them wAi-iveyed. But, howsoever, sure they woulu
ther he pleaseth. And who knows but! not be fewer, and less frequent alone than in
these rivers of waters, these tears, may pre-
vail with the Lord to reduce the violent cur-
tent of that river (a king's heart) from the
•vrong channel ?
II. But to proceed.
The second thing
to be considered in this affection, is, the na-
ture of it. (1.) It is not a Stoical apathy,
company, for that is a little subject to sus-
picion. Jer. ix. 1, Oh that my head were
waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tearst
that I may weep day and night for the
slain of my people I And xiii. 17, But
if ye will not hear it, my soul shall weep
in secret places for your pride ; and mine
and affected carelessness, much less a de- \ tye shall weep sore, and run down with
lightful j-artaking with sinful practices. (2.)
Not a proud setting off their own goodness * Paige maijim. Pelugut
384
SERMON VII.
tears, because the LonVs flock is carried
away captive.
IV. The subject of this affection is, not
the ungodly themselves, that are professed
transgressors of this law ; they rather make
This is the reason why Jeremiah, ix. 1,
when he would weep for the slain of his
people, is straightway led from that to be-
wail the sin of his people, ver. 2, 3, &c.
And in his book of tears and lamentations,
the Philistine!
the house down about their ears.
But the
a sport of sin, as Solomon speaks; they' he often reduces all these sad evils to sin as
play and make themselves merry with it, as i causing them, particularly chap. v. 16 : The
the Philistines did with Samson, till it bring crown is fallen from our head ; woe unto
us that we have sinned. He turneth the
complaint more to the sin than to the af-
fliction.
2. Consider the nature of these tears
Tears spent for worldly crosses are all lost ;
they run all to waste ; they are lachrymal
inanes, empty, fruitless things ; but tears
shed for the breach of God's law. are
the means to quench God's wrath. The
prayers and tears of some few, may avert the
punishment of many, yea, of a whole land ;
and if not so, yet are they not lost ; the
mourners themselves have always benefit by
them, as you have it in that known place,
Ezek. ix. 4. They that mourned for the
common abominations were marked, and the
common desolation took not hold on them.
This mourning for other men's wickedness,
both testifies and preserves the godly man's
innocence. I say, it preserves it, as well
as testifies it ; keeps them from the conta-
gion of that bad air they live in, for with-
out this, sin would soon grow familiar. It
is good for men to keep up and maintain in
their souls a dislike of sin ; for when once
it ceaseth to be displeasing to a man, it
will before long begin to be pleasing to
him.
godly are they that are affected with this
sorrow, such as are careful observers of the
law themselves, and mourn first for their
own breaches ; for these are the only fit
mourners for the transgressions of others.
Now to inquire a little into the cause of
this, why the breaking of God's law should
cause such sorrow in the godly, as here
breaketh forth into abundance of tears ; we
shall find it very reasonable if we consider,
1. The nature of sin, which is the trans-
gression or breach of the law, as the apostle
defines it. 2. The nature of this sorrow and
these tears. 3. The nature of the godly.
1. Sin is the greatest evil in the world :
yea, truly, in comparison, it alone is wortl:
the name of evil, and therefore may justly
challenge sorrow, and the greatest sorrow.
The greatest of evils it is ; both formally,
in that it alone is the defilement and defor-
mity of the soul ; and, causally, being the
root from whence all other evils spring : the
fruitful womb that conceives and brings
forth all those miseries that either man
feels, or hath cause to fear. Whence are
all those personal evils incident to men in
their estates, or in their bodies, or minds,
outward turmoils and diseases, and inward
discontents, and death itself, in all the kinds
of it; are they not all the fruits of thai
bitter root ? Whence arise these public mi-
series of nations and kingdoms, but from
the epidemic national sins of the people, as
the deserving and procuring cause at God's
hand ? And withal, oftentimes from the
ambitious and wicked practices of some par-
3. If we consider the nature of the godly,
we shall see this mourning suit with it ex-
ceedingly, both in regard of his relation to
God, and to man. God is his Father, and
therefore it cannot but grieve him much to
see him offended and dishonoured. Love
to God, and consequently to his law, and
love to men, and desire of their good, is the
spring of these rivers. A godly man is
ticular men, as the working and effecting j tender of God's glory and of his law ; every
causes: so that every way, if we follow stroke that it leceives, striketh his heart:
these evils home to their original, we shall
find it to be sin, or the breaking of God's law.
Ungodly men, though they meddle not with
public affairs at all, yea, though they be
faithful and honest in meddling with them,
yet by reason of their impious lives, are trai-
tors to their nation ; they are truly the in-
cendiaries of states and kingdoms. And
these mourners, though they can do no more,
are the most loyal arid serviceable subjects,
bringing tears to quench the fire of wrath
Rivers of watert. And therefore sorrow and
tears are not only most due to sin, as the
greatest of evils, but they are best bestowed
upon it, if they can do any thing to its re-
dress ; because that is both the surest and
most compendious way to remedy all the rest
sin being the source and spring of them all. '
and he hath bowels of compassion to men,
and would be glad if they were converted
and saved. He considers every man as his
brother, and therefore is sorrowful to see him
run the hazard of perishing in sin. The
former sympathy, whereby the godly man
tenders the glory of God, is from his piety :
this latter, whereby he pities the misery of
man, is from his charity ; and from these
flow the rivers that run down his eyes.
To be too sensible of worldly crosses, and
prodigal of tears, upon such slight occasions,
is little better than childish and womanish ;
but those tears that flow from love to God,
and grief for sin, have neither uncomeliness
nor excess in them. Abundance of them will
beseem any man that is a Christian. Let
profane men judge it a weakness to weep foi
SERMON VII.
385
sin, yet we see David do it. Men of arms
and valour need not fear disparagement by
weeping thus ; it is the truest magnanimity
to be sensible of the point of God's honour,
which is injured by sin.
Again : the consideration of this truth
will discover the world guilty of very much
ingratitude to godly men. It hath always
been the custom of profane persons to seek
to brand religion and godliness with dis-
loyalty and turbulency, and to make it pass
They keep not thy Jaw. Magistrate*
and judges turning judgment into gall and
wormwood : ministers remiss in that great
care, the care of souls : people wallowing in
ungodliness and uncleanness. swearing, &c-
The greater oppressing the less, and the
less defrauding and wronging the greater.
No sensible and notable work of conversion
almost to be seen or heard of amongst us ;
the Lord absenting himself from his ordi-
nances. O that he would dwell in his
for an enemy to the peace and prosperity of house, and fill it with a cloud of his glory !
states and kingdoms. You see clearly with
what affection religion furnishes men towards
the public, causing them to mourn for com-
mon sins, and so to prevent, as far as in
them lies, common calamities. And this is
of no little consequence ; for truly it is not
foreign power, so much as sin at home, that
ruins kingdoms. All the winds that blow
without the earth, be they never so violent,
stir it not, only that which is withir :ts own
bowels makes an earthquake. It was a
grave answer of Epaminondas, being asked
what lie was doing solitary and pensive in
the time of solemn mirth and feasting, —
" While my countrymen, (says he,) are so
peaceably feasting, I am thinking on the
best means to preserve that peace to them,
that it may continue ;" which, a little alter.
ed, is applicable to the godly. They are
•vftentimes mourning for the sins, and pray-
ing for the peace of the places where they
five ; when, in the mean time, the greatest
part are multiplying sin, and so forfeiting
their peace.
Rivers of waters.
" This is a mournful,
melancholy life that these precisians lead,"
says the worldling. Yes, truly, if there
were no more in it than what he can per-
ceive and judge of. But besides the full
joy laid up for them, and the beginnings of
it here, there is even in this mourning an
unknown sweetness and delight. The phi-
losopher says, even of common tears, that
there is some kind of pleasure in them, as
some things please the taste by their very
tartness. But of these tears, they that know
them, know it to be eminently true, that
they are pleasant. But be this exercise as
sad as the profane call it, yet why observe
they not, that they themselves are much the
cause of it, as they may read here, Because
they keep not God's law ?
But to pass by divers inferences that the
words afford, let us take notice of the duty
here practised, and how much we are all ob-
liged to the present practice of it. Who
will deny that we have too much matter and
occasions of it ? Besides the sorrow of Sion,
and particularly the blood-shedding and dis-
tress of our brethren, and our own danger,
what comer of the land, what rank or con-
dition of people is there, that abounds not
in gross and heinous violation of God's law ?
2n
What vDe uncleanness and wantonness !
What shameful drunkenness and excess !
And some so far from mourning for others*
guiltiness of this sin, that they glory in
making others guilty of it, and count it a
pastime to make others drunk. And this is
a far greater sin than drunkenness itself;
for these men, while they make beasts of
their companions, they make devils of them-
selves, becoming tempters and provokers to
sin. If any such be here, either tremble at
the woe that the prophet Habakkuk, ii. 15,
1 6, denounceth, or confess that you believe
not the Scriptures : " Woe to him that gives
his neighbour drink, and puts the bottle to
him to make him drunken. — The cup of the
Lord's right hand shall be turned to thee ;
it is full of heavy vengeance." There is a
cup, if you like it, to pay you home the cups
you give to others.
Again : how is the land rilled with oaths
and cursings ! How are our streets, and
almost all companies where a man can come,
defiled, partly with tearing the precious name
of God, partly with calling on the devil ! There
would be no end of reckoning up all particu.
lars : Sabbath-breaking, fraud and covet-
ousness, pride and malice, and envyings one
of another, and the rest. But the sum is
this : an universal want of the fear of God
and his law.
And the cause of this is, in a great part,
ignorance of God and of his law ; and truly it
is wonderful, undei so much light and such
plentiful preaching, to find so much dark-
ness, not only in the skirts and remote
places, but even in the prime parts of this
land : multitudes that are strangers to the
very principles and fundamentals of that reli-
gion which they profess ; and they that have
cnowledge, abusing it and sinning against
t, continuing in profaneness. And without
fais true religion, it is as impossible to have
renewed hearts and lives, as to have a house
without a foundation, or, as we say, a castle
n the air. And this atheism and ignorance
amongst people, is in a great part to be im-
puted to the corruption and sloth of minis-
ters : and would to God, there were not many
congregations, not only altogether destitu'c.
)ut such as are freezing under a cold ai.d
"ifeless ministry !
You see then, we want not causes of morn-
3KG
SERMON VI.
ing and humiliation on all hands ; but our
want is inward, of that due disposition for
it, softness of heart, and that love to God
which should melt and mollify the heart.
Let us then stir up ourselves, and one an-
other, to this godly sorrow for the sins of
the land. There is need of rivers of tears
for these heaps of sin ; as they tell of
Hercules, letting in a river to that mon-
strous stable of Augeas, that could not other-
wise have been cleansed in the time allotted
him.
And truly, as the duty lies upon all the
faithful, the ministers of the word ought to
be most eminent in it, the chief mourners,
the precentors, to take up the tune of these
themes, Joel ii. 17. And all that wish the
good of church and kingdom ought to bear a
part in them, according to their measure.
Have we not much need to intreat reconcile-
ment with God, that he prove not our enemy ?
Yes, surely ; and were we reconciled with
him, we should have little need to fear the
power of man.
Now, theythat would be profitable mourn,
ers for others' sins, by all mean , must
have these two conditions I mentioned ; to
be careful observers of the law themselves,
and to mourn for their own failing and breaking
of it. Now, (1.) to the observing of the
law, it is absolutely needful to know and un-
derstand it, and that not only in the letter
and superfice, but according to the spiritual
sense and meaning of it : for without this
knowledge, a man may light upon some duty
by guess, as it were in the dark ; but observe
the law he cannot. They are not only re-
provable that glory in their own sins, and
make sport of the sins of others ; but the)
mistake it much, that think it enough to con-
sider their own with grief, and judge the
sins of others an impertinency for them to
think on. They mourn not right for others
that begin not at themselves, so they mourn
never aright for themselves that end in them-
selves. He that here thus weeps for others,
made his bed to swim with these rivers for
his own sin, Psalm vi. 6. (2.) As a man
must know this law, so he must be inward-
ly convinced and persuaded of the divinity of
it, that it is God's law. (3.) He must
have a deep apprehension of the majesty and
authority of the lawgiver to work reverence,
and of his goodness to beget love ; and the
due mixture of these two, will both strongly
command and sweeten obedience to his com-
mandments. And this obedience, though
it be not an absolute and perfect fulfilling of
any one of the commandments, yet it has a
respect to them all, as this Psalm hath it,
which is (so to speak) an imperfect kind of
perfection. And from this respect to the law,
which is the observing of it, will flow that
other condition, of grieving when we break it.
And besides all other things that should
make a Christian's own sin grevious to him,
there is one thing cannot but move him much,
the consideration of the sorrow and sufferings
of Christ. To view the bleedings of our
Lord Jesus, cannot choose but pierce a be-
lieving soul, and make it say, " Did my Re-
deemer shed his blood for my sins, and shall
not I myself shed tears for them ?" I know
the natural constitution of some denies them
tears ; but if it do so to any, make up that
want with sense of inward grief, and it is
well enough. The eye of God can discern
that as well as the other. But truly, where
men have tears for lighter causes, (for all
other causes are lighter,) and none for this,
they feel not yet the weight of sin, except
that want will be through the deepness of
sorrow, which sometimes will stop the cur-
rent of tears, though it used to run at other
times ; as they say, Curce leves loquuntur,
ingentes stupent. But this is a rare and
happy impediment.
And to answer another doubt : if you find
sometimes worldly griefs stir you more vio-
lently, yet let this godly sorrow affect you
more constantly, that it may have the advan-
tage in continuance, if it fall short in tne
degree.
But as this grief must begin at home, as
they say of charity, it must not be so self-
ish as to rest there. And truly where it
comes in that order, it may be some way a
stronger evidence of sincerity, to mourn for
others' sins than for our own ; for there seems
to be more of God in it, because there is less
in it of ourselves, and of our own particular
interest.
Now you will possibly think it but an un-
pleasant duty that you have heard urged all
this while ; but look forward, and consider
the issue of it. That which Christ speaks
in particular to his disciples, is generally
true in all Christians. John xvi. 20, " Ye
shall weep and lament, (says he,) but the
world shall rejoice ; ye shall be sorrowful,
but your sorrow shall be turned (or made)
into joy." The water of those tears shall
be turned into wine of consolation. The
traffic of these rivers is gainful, they export
grief, and import joy. When these tears
are called seed, the harvest-crop is called joy,
" They that sow in tears shall reap in joy."
They are here called rivers, and they are
answered with a river, Psalm Ixxxvi. 8, for
which they shall in the end be perfectly ex-
changed : " Thou shalt make them drink of
the river of thy pleasures." And Rev. vii. 17,
' The Lamb shall feed them, and lead them
unto living fountains of waters." Here they
run down the eyes and water the cheeks, and
there you read that God shall wipe them
away from their eyes. Who would not be
content to weep, to have God wipe away their
tears with his own hand ? Be ambitious,
then, to be found amongst the mourners in
SERMON VIII.
Sion ; and when ye remove from this valley
of tears, God shall at once fully wipe away
all the stain of sin from your souls, and all
tears for it from your eyes. And as he shall
wipe away the tears with the one hand, he
will set the crown upon your heads with the
other.
SERMON VIII.
PREFACE
Blessed are they that dwell in thy house,
saith the Psalmist ; and he adds this reason,
They will be still praising thee. There is,
indeed, always in God's house, both fit op-
portunity and plentiful matter of his praises.
But the greatest number of those that fre-
quent his house do not dwell in it ; their
delight and affection are not there. There-
fore they cannot praise him ; they come in
strangers, and have no skill of the songs of
praise. Yea, and the very children of the fa-
mily that worships in spirit and in truth, find
their instruments (their hearts) very often
quite out of tune for praises, and sometimes
most of all when praises are requisite. They
find still such abundant cause of complaint
in themselves, weighing down their spirits,
that they can hardly at all wind them up to
magnify that God of our mercy, whkh is
far more abundant. If we would take a re-
flex view, and look back upon our carriage
this day in the presence of our God, who is
among us that would not find much work for
sad thoughts ? Would not one find that he
had a hard and stony heart ? Another, a light,
inconstant, wandering heart to complain of ?
A third, an unbelieving heart ? And some,
all of these ? And they (if such there be)
that have both deeply sorrowed and been
largely comforted, will possibly for all that,
upon former sad experience, be full of fears
and jealousies, that this sweet temper will
not be of long continfcince ; that before long
the world or some lust, will find, or make a
way to creep in, and banish those heavenly
thoughts, and trouble that peace and joy
which accompanies them. Yet notwith-
standing all these causes of grief or fear, our
causes of praise are both more and greater.
And it is no reason, that the sense of our
own evil should prejudge that acknowledge-
ment of God's goodness, yea, rather it should
stir us up to extol it so much the more.
Cease not to bemoan the evils of your own
hearts ; but withal ff rget not to magnify the
riches of his grace, who hath given himself
for you, and to you. These two will not
hinder one another, but the due intermixture
of them will make a very good harmony.
And the fruit of them will be this — you shall
still have more cause to praise and less to
complain. When the Lord shall find you
humble acknowledgers of his grace, he will
delight to bestow more grace upon you, and
will subdue those iniquities for you, which
you cannot. And though he is pleased to
do it but gradually by little and little, yet in
the end, the conquest shall be full ; and then
he who is the author and finisher of your
faith, though it is his own work, yet be-
cause it is done in you, he shall account the
victory yours, as obtained by you, and give
you, as conquerors, the crown of glory.
" To him that overcometh (saith he) will I
give to sit with me in my throne," &c.
There is nothing here, but from free grace.
The courage and strength to fight in this
spiritual warfare, the victory by fighting, and
the crown by victory, flow all from that foun-
tain. In all these things we are more than
conquerors (saith the apostle) ; but how ?
Through him that loved us. Therefore, if
we desire to be such, let us humble our-
selves before the throne of grace, intreating
both for grace and glory in the name of
Christ our Mediator.
CANT. i. 3.
Because of the savour of thy good ointments
thy name is as ointment poured forth,
therefore do the virgins love thee.
THE natural workings and desires of
things are agreeable to their being. The
beasts, according to their sensitive life, seek
those things that tend to the good and pre-
servation of that life, and affect nothing
higher than those, and they are satisfied.
Man, (except such as are in the lowest stage,
and border upon the beasts,) finds nature,
even corrupt nature, raising him to highei
desires and designs. And yet of the best of
them, the apostle's maxim holds true, They
that are after the flesh, mind the things of
the flesh ; and yet h'e subjoins the excellency
of some men beyond the best naturalist,
They that are after the spirit, the things
of the spirit, Rom. viii. 5. They must be
confined to things natural, but are strongly
moved towards spiritual blessings, and Christ
the sum of them. And having once tasted
of his sweetness can say, Because of the sa-
vour of thy good ointments, &c. They that
are elevated to a supernatural being, can ad-
mit nothing into competition with his love,
and this it is that lies under these words,
Because of the savour of thy good oint-
ments, &c.
Numbers have promiscuously been his
guests at this time, and the greatest number
think they came to good purpose. But know
that you are so far from partaking of Chrift
in the sacrament that you have not so ranch
388
SERMON
as smelt his perfumes, if you be not strong-
ly taken with his love. Great are the
praises, and many the duties, you owe him
for so rich favours : and therefore shew your
good will, and endeavour some payment.
But know that none of them are current, ex-
cept they be stamped with love. If you love
not, you do nothing; all your labours and
services without it, are as so many cyphers,
they amount to just nothing ; and with it,
the meanest of them will find acceptance.
You have briefly in the words, Christ's
loveliness, and the Christian's love ; the
former the cause of the latter, both couched
under borrowed terms, according to the whole
strain of this allegorical song, to which the
true experimental knowledge of this divine
love is the best commentary.
In all love, three things are necessary.
(1.) Some goodness in the object, either true
and real, or apparent and seeming to be so ;
for the soul, be it ever so evil, can affect no-
thing but what it takes some way to be good.
(2.) There must be a knowledge of that
goodness ; for the most excellent things, if
altogether unknown, affect not. (3.) There
must be a suitableness or agreement of that
good thing with the nature of those which
should affect it ; otherwise indeed, how good
soever it is, it is not good to them.
Now, all these we have clearly in this love.
(1.) The goodness, the excellency of Christ,
expressed by precious ointments. (2.) The
manifestation and making of it known, sig-
nified by the pouring forth of his name.
}3.) His fitness and congruity with them
here mentioned, under this denomination —
virgins; such as have the senses of their
souls not stopped with the pollutions of the
world, but pure and active, and therefore (as
the apostle speaks, Heb. v. 14) exercised to
discern good and evil. These three requi-
sites thus happily met, must needs produce
love, therefore the virgins love thee.
Because of the savour of thy good oint-
ments. How true is the apostle's word, when
he calls Christ the believer's All things !
And that radical grace of faith, because it
apprehends Christ, hath a kind of univer-
sality ; and it is reasonable too, it alone
being to the soul, what all the five senses are
to the body. It is the eye and the mouth :
a wonderful eye ; it sees him that is invisi-
ble, Heb. iv. 27. The mouth, it tastes that
the Lord is gracious, 1 Peter ii. 3. Yea,
take these two both together in one place, Ps.
xxxiv. 8, " O taste and see that the Lord
is good." It is the soul's ear ; for what else
is meant, when it is said, " He that hath an
ear to hear, let him hear ?" And was it not
that touch which Christ tool: special notice
of, and with good reason distinguished it
from the common touch of the multitude that
was crowding about him ? That touch
alone draws virtue from him — " Some have
touched me, for there is a virtue gone out of
me." And, lastly, as it is all those other
senses, and Christ its object in reference to
them all, so here in its smelling, it finds the
savour of his fragrant graces, and by that
works love : Because of the savour, &c.
What strange odds is there betwixt the
opinion of Christ's spouse and the world that
knows him not ! They wonder what she
sees in him desirable ; she wonders that they
are not all ravished with his excellencies.
They prefer the basest vanities in the world
before him ; she finds the choicest and rich-
est things in the world too mean to resemble
the smallest part of his worth. See in this
song how busily and skilfully she goes to all
the creatures, and crops the rarest pieces in
nature and art to set forth her well-beloved,
and seems to find them all too poor for her
purpose. One while she extols him sbove
all things beautiful and pleasant to the eye ;
another while, above things delectable to the
taste, as in the former verse, Thy loves are
better than wine ; and here prefers the per-
fumes of his graces to the most precious oint-
ments.
When a natural eye looks upon the sacra-
ment, to wit, of the Lord's supper, it finds
it a bare and mean kind of ceremony. Take
heed there be not many that come to it, and
partake of it with others that prize it little,
have but low conceits of it, and do indeed
find as little in it as they look for. But oh !
whaf precious consolation and grace doth a
believer meet with at this banquet ! How
richly is the table furnished to his eye !
What plentiful varieties employ his hand
and taste ! What abundance of rare dain-
ties ! Yet there is nothing but one here ;
but that one is all things to the believing
soul ; it finds his love is sweeter than the
richest wine to the taste, or best odours to
the smell ; and that delightful word of his,
Thy sins are forgiven thee, is the only music
to a distressed conscience.
Thy good ointments. The holy ointment
of the sanctuary under the law was composed
according to God's own prescription, Exod.
xxx. 25. And they were straitly forbid to
imitate it, or make any like it, to signify the
singular holiness, the matchless worth of the
anointing oil of gladness, wherewith our
High Priest, the Lord Jesus, was anointed
above his fellows. And in this he is incom-
parable, that his ointment he hath not from
without. It was his own divine nature that
perfumed his manhood with these precious
ointments. God and the Spirit of the Lord
are said to have anointed him. Ps. xlv. 7,
(< Thou lovest righteousness, and hatest
wickedness : therefore God, thy God, hath
anointed thee with the oil of gladness above
thy fellows ;" and Isaiah Ixi. 1, " The Spi-
rit of the Lord God is upon me, because the
Lord Rath anointed me to preach good tid-
SERMON VIII.
389
ings unto the meek," &c. But know that
that Spirit and the Father are one in essence
with the eternal Son. In that mystical song
much like to this, in the 45th Psalm, at the
8th verse, it is said, his garments smell of
myrrh, and aloes, and cassia, as he comes
forth of his ivory palaces. When he came
down from his glorious court above to dwell
among men, he apparelled himself like them ;
he was clothed with human flesh. But yet
that vesture was so transcendently enriched
with all graces, as with costly perfumes, that
men might easily know there was more under
them than a mere man. Yea, even in that
low estate did such beams of his glory shine
through, that all whose eyes were open, did
clearly behold them, and knew him to be no
less than the only-begotten Son of God, by
this, that he was so full of grace and truth,
John i. 14. And these are, in a word, these
precious ointments, whose delightful smell is
here commended.
Now, to enumerate and describe these
graces, what tongue of men, yea, or of angels,
were sufficient ? What other is the main
subject of the whole Scriptures ? What
mean all the figures and ceremonies of the
law ; the costly furniture and ornaments of
the temple ; the rich vestments of the high
priest ; that fine linen, that silk and gold,
these gems and precious stones ? Were any
of them, were they all, any other but shadows
and dim resemblances of the matchless per-
fections of Jesus Christ ? It is strange, that
Christians have so low conceits of the Re-
deemer ! What is the gospel, but a more
clear and plentiful pouring forth of those
ointments ? What was the great labour and
business of the holy apostles, but the diffus-
ing of Christ's graces through the world ?
/ determined to know nothing among you
save Christ, and him crucified, says St.
Paul to his Corinthians. What was that
other sacrament and this, but coverts under
which Christ conveys himself and his graces
to the believing soul, while the profane and
slight-hearted receivers are sent away with
empty elements ? Thus you see how ample
a subject these graces are in the general.
And, truly, the consideration of any one par-
ticular of them might be the employment of
many hours. Would you hear the wisdom
of Christ, look what the apostle says of it,
CoL ii. 3 : "In him are hid all the treasures
of wisdom and knowledge." Not some
drops of wisdom, no, nor streams, but a foun-
tain ; a treasure, not one treasure, but trea-
sures ; many, yea, all the treasures of wis-
dom and knowledge ; yet not obvious to
every eye, but, as treasures, are hid. The
children of wisdom, which are the world's
fools, have some knowledge of this his
wisdom, and draw from it for their own
use ; but to sound the depth of it, who can
he able ?
No less admirable is his holiness ; he is
both the immaculate lamb, and the unde-
nted sacrifice. Such a high priest became
us : Became us ! Yes, holy, harmless, and
undejiled, Heb. vii. 26. The more we
were defiled with sin, the more stood we in
need of an undefiled and spotless high priest.
It was as expedient that he should be unlike
us in that, as that he should be like us in all
other things. Therefore, as for the legal
priesthood, there was a holy consecrating
oil ; this immortal high priest was anointed
with most entire and complete holiness ; and
this perfect holiness of his is set forth as
myrrh, the best ointments and spices; myrrh,
which is of a virtue preservative from corrup-
tion. He was not only of excellent smell,
while he lived among men, but this myrrh
did likewise preserve and exempt him from
contracting any corruption or pollution, by
the bad air of sinful company ; so that he
conversed with sinners, that he might con-
vert them, without any danger of infection.
And as he was thus extraordinarily anoint-
ed with the spirit of wisdom and holiness,
so likewise with the spirit of meekness,
therefore called, " The Lamb of God, that
takc-th away the sins of the world :" his
voice was not " heard in the streets." And
take in that other grace, which he himself
mentions, together with his meekness, as be-
ing near in nature to it, humility; "Learn
of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart,"
Matt. xi. 29. Indeed, humility is an odo-
riferous grace, it is a gracing, decorating
grace, and it adds a kind of sweetness and
lustre to all other graces ; yea, it serves sin-
gularly as a character for the trial of the
truth of all other graces : as balsam, which
is the chief of precious ointments, used to
be tried," that is the truest and best ; that
put into any liquor, goes to the bottom, that
but slight which swims above ; so those
graces are most upright, that are accompa-
nied with most humility. And that this
may be out of doubt, you know that Jesus
Christ, (of whom we now speak,) as he had
most grace, so he was most exemplary in
humility. And certainly, the sweet smell
of this good ointment did fill the whole
house, when he washed his disciples' feet,
John xiii., as is said of the ointment that
Mary poured upon his feet, in the foregoing
chapter, John xii.
Amongst many other of his gracious qua-
lities that might be mentioned, there is one
we cannot but take particular notice of — his
love ; the rather, because the fragrant smell of
his graces is here said to beget love. Now
you know that one of the strongest attractives
of love, is love : Magnes amoris amor, t^as
tfwra rixrti. What made him empty hkn-
seff of his glory, as the apostle speaks, but
because he was full of love ? What made
• To Baal Sftemin.
390
SERMON VIII.
him take on the form of a servant, suffe
heat, and cold, and hunger, and poverty
but love ? What other was it made him
digest the persecutions, revilings, and the
contradiction of sinners, but love ? But the
great wonder of his love is this — he died.tc
become our life ; who hath loved me, ana
given himself for me, says the great apostle
St. Paul. And hereby perceive we the
love of God, because he laid down his life
for us, says the beloved apostle St. John
Was it the nails that held him fast to the
cross, when they tauntingly bid him come
down ? No, it was his love, that was stronge
than death. But all this was nothing t<
the angry countenance of his Father, no
would he ever have ventured upon that, i
infinite love had not persuaded him. N
wonder if the apostle call it a love tha
passeth knowledge ; " That you may know,'
saith he, " the love of Christ, which passed
knowledge," Eph. iii. 19. Know it
may, and should, but we must know withal
that we cannot know it fully. And this i
our comfort, that it is greater than we can
comprehend, for if it were not so, it woulc
be less than we stand in need of. So much
of his love we may understand, as maj
abundantly inflame our hearts with love t<
him ; for this purpose hath he revealed it
and made his name like an ointment pour-
ed out. And that is the second thing.
His name. That is, the report and ma
nifestation of his excellencies. And if you
will take it properly of his name Jesus, anc
Christ, or the Messiah, it is true of them
for they are significative of these excellen-
cies. Ask an afflicted conscience, if Jesus,
that is, a Saviour, be not a precious word,
that hath a sovereign value, both a refresh-
ing smell and a healing virtue ? The ham-
mer of the law may break a stony heart in
pieces, but it is only the blood of Jesus that
can soften it. And where it is effectually
poured, either upon a wounded soul, it heals
it, or upon a hard heart, it mollifies it. For
that other name, Christ, well may it be call-
ed an ointment poured out, for it signifies
his anointing. And that the sweet savour
of this name may affect, read but that one
passage, Isaiah Ixi. 1 : " The Spirit of the
Lord God is upon me, because the Lord
hath appointed me to preach good tidings,1
&c. What inestimable riches of consola-
tion is there in each of these effects, to
which Christ was anointed ! And yet we
find not a word among them all for a proud,
stiff-necked sinner. Here are good tidings,
but it is to the meek ; comfortable binding
up, but it is for the broken-hearted r li-
berty, but it is for captives and prisoners,
groaning under their chains, and desirous to
be delivered; not for such as delight in
their bondage. There is oil of joy and
garments of praise, but they are provided
for mourning, dejected spirits, that need
them ; not to the impenitent. On the con.
trary, there is a terrible word interjected in
the midst of these promises — The day of
vengeance of our God ; and that is the por-
tion of Christ's enemies, and such are all
incorrigible sinners.
Thus it is, at the same banquet from
which you come, one may be filled with
spiritual joy, and the very person that sits
next, be filled with a secret curse, and re-
turn more miserable than he came. But let
the disconsolate, lamenting sinner, lift up
his head, and behold Christ, the Son of
God, anointed a Prophet to preach salvation
and liberty to such, a Priest to purchase it,
and a King to give it.
Now the pouring out of this name is di-
vers. Before the coming of the Messiah
his name was poured out in prophecies and
promises, in types and legal ceremonies, but
more fully when the word was made flesh.
Then angels and holy men, yea, and women,
spake clearly of him. What was his Fa-
ther's voice at his baptism ? The Holy
Ghost's descending ? What was his own
preaching, and miracles, and conversation,
but all the pouring forth of his precious
name ? And in his sufferings and death,
what think you ? Was not his name then
poured forth, yea, his blood with it ? Yes,
truly, being extended on the cross, and his
body pierced in divers places, his precious
ointments were shed abroad towards all the
quarters of the world. Their smell both
reached heaven and the visible earth. God
the Father (as he was said to do in Noah's
sacrifice) did much more smell in his sacri-
fice a savour of rest, appeasing his wrath ;
and all believers a savour of peace, a quiet-
ing of their consciences. And as aromatic
spices, when they are pounded out and
beaten, send forth their sweet smells most
liberally, so in these his sufferings, did the
obedience, patience, and love, and all the
graces, and the name of our Saviour, most
clearly manifest themselves to the world.
After he was dead they embalmed his body,
but they knew not that his own virtue would
do more than all the ointments and spices in
the world could do, not only by preserving
his body from corruption, but by raising it
the third day. And truly, after his resur-
rection, his own disciples knew his name
setter than ever before, and yet more fully
after his ascension, when the Holy Ghost
came down upon them, which was poured
*rom heaven on them for this very end — that
hey might pour forth Christ's name to the
:nds of the earth, Acts ii. 8. And they did
io, carrying this precious treasure in earthen
vessels, as that elect vessel St. Paul speaks.
And ever since, God hath continued the
>ouring forth of this name, by the ministry
and preaching of the gospel. It is true.
SERMON VIII.
3iM
there are too many of those that are employ
ed in this work, that seek themselves, an<
their own ends, rather than his glory whom
they preach. And they that are more up
right, the very best of them are sinful men
But how mean and unworthy soever they be
despise not the gospel. Let the sweet nami
which they pour forth, prevail for itself, tha
so you may reverence and love it, if you
would have salvation by it ; and there is n
other name under heaven by which that can
be obtained.
As this name is poured forth in the
gospel preached, so in the sacraments annex,
ed to it ; and particularly in this, when the
bread is broken, and the wine poured out
And was not this the earnest desire of the
receivers of it this day ? It should have
been to have our share in it, for the refresh-
ment and curing of our souls. Nor shal
any that came thus be disappointed. And if
not presently, yet most certainly, and that in
.due time, they shall find the sweet fruits of it.
You have heard many ways how the name
of Christ is poured out, yet there is one
more, without which all the rest are ineffec-
tual ; it is this : the secret and powerful
working of the Spirit of God in the soul.
The ordinances and means of salvation do
indeed pour forth the name of Christ round
about a man, but till the Spirit concur with
them, not one drop falls within the soul.
And is he not so much the more miserable,
that hears much of Christ, and partakes no-
thing of him ? Yes, surely, a man may
have much common knowledge of Christ,
and may understand well, yea, may preach
well, concerning his worth and graces, and
yet not love him. But there is a particular
knowledge of him by the infusion of the
Spirit ; and where the smallest measure of
this is, it presently wins the affection.
There is a shedding abroad of the love of
God in our hearts, that the apostle speaks
of, Rom. v. 5, and this draws us after him ;
for our love to God is nothing else but the
reflection of his love to us. So then, though
many hear of Christ, yet because there are
but few that have this special knowledge of
him, therefore it is, that so few do truly es-
teem him and love him ; and they are such
as are here called virgins : and that is the
third thing.
The virgins. Similitude and conformity
of natures begets friendship ; pure affections
delight in a pure object, and makes them
such. For the truth is, Christ doth not
find men naturally suitable to himself ; but
as he took on our nature, so he washeth
away the sinfulness of our nature, which he
took not on, and makes us that way con-
formable to his nature. And they that are
so changed, though they were formerly lovers
of sin, yet by conversion, which is called
regeneration, they are bora again, and so
become not only chaste, but even virgins,
spiritually : for by virgins here are not meant
such as Romish votaries fancy them to be ;
no, this virginity may well consist with any
lawful state of life.
These virgins are such as be truly holy,
and pure in heart and life, who, though they
are not parfectly free from all sin, yet have
their affection to no sin. These are singular-
ly delighted with the smell of Christ's name
and graces, while the voluptuous person,
and the profane worldling, dislikes and de-
spises it.* The virgins, they bestow their
affection whole and entire upon Christ.
Ho*v grossly do you delude yourselves,
that make your hearts dens of pride, filthy
lust, malice and envy, and thousands of
vanities, and yet think to find a corner in
them to lodge Christ too ! Truly, you would
both straiten him in room, and give him
very bad neighbours. No, they that think
not a whole heart too little for him, shall
never en}oy him.
The virgins love thee. Grace destroys
not the natural passions of the soul, but cor-
rects them only, by destroying their corrup-
tion, and so they become not only not con-
trary to grace, but are made the subject and
seat of grace. This of love, which is the
chief of them, we see it abolisheth not, but
rectifies it, recalling it to its due object, and
turning it into the right channel, by which it
may empty itself into the ocean of goodness.
And this love may well consist with the
purity of virgins ; yea, it is this love that
jurifies and makes them such. The virgins
'ove, but whom ? Thee. And it is as
reasonable a love as it is pure ; therefore
they love thee, because thou hast made them
n some measure apprehensive of thy worth,
which commands the love of all that know
t ; not a cold and indifferent affection, but
a superlative, ardent love, far overtopping
all their other desires. And good reason,
since Christ doth infinitely, and beyond all
comparison, surpass all other things desir-
.ble. Ask your own hearts if you love
Christ thus ; for if not thus, you love him
not at all. The apostle St. Paul's love was o
.his size ; Phil. iii. 7, 8, " But what thing
were gain to me, those I counted loss for
Christ ; yea, doubtless, and I count all
hin/js but loss, for the excellency of the
cnov-'ledge of Christ Jesus my Lord, for
whom I have suffered the loss of all things,
and do count them but dung, that I may
win Christ." Thus love will not only un
dergo difficulties and sufferings for Christ,
without either repining or fainting, but it
will even be glad to meet with them, as op-
mrtunity is, to exercise and testify itself,
lard things will seem most easy for his
ake, and bitter things exceeding sweet,
n a word, to him that loves, scarce any
* Bait tic utibus, sic male narcHis oknt.
392
SERMON VIII.
thing is impossible. Love is the leading
passion of the soul ; all the rest conform
themselves to it, desire and hope and fear,
joy and sorrow. If then, you love Christ,
the desires and breathings of your soul after
him are strong and earnest, if he withdraw
himself or appear angry. If either you see
him not, or see him look discontented,
your grief will be so deep that it cannot be
allayed by any worldly employments ; yet,
vpon some former tokens of his love, which
is known to be unchangeable, hope will up-
hold the soul till the beams of his grace
scatter the cloud and break through. Though
our Joseph seem strange, and speak roughly
for a while, he cannot long refrain discover,
ing his affection. Again, love you him,
unspeakable will be your joy when he smiles
upon you ; as great will be your delight in
possession as your desire is in pursuit ; and
while you have his presence, it will be too
hard a task for any affliction to dismay you.
Have you, indeed, heard Christ speak com-
fortably to you this day at his holy table ?
How will this enable the soul, and arm it
against dangers, and distracting, distrustful
fears! Perfect love casteth out fear, saith
St. John ; that is, all base and servile fear :
but there is one fear that is in no heart but
where love begets it — fear to offend. You
know how wary and loath men are naturally
to displease those they love ; therefore it is,
that love to Christ, and a careful observing
of his commandments, are inseparable com-
panions : yea, love itself is the fulfilling of
the law, for it gives up the heart to God,
and, consequently, the whole man. Then
there is no return of duty which your receiv-
ing of Christ calls for, (and what doth it not
call for ? ) there is none, I say, but is com-
prised under this one of love. Do you owe
him praises ? Yes, surely : then love him,
that will stir you up to praise him. You
never knew, but where much love was in the
heart, it made the tongue ready and active
upon all occasions to praise the party loved.
Love will entertain small courtesies with
great thanks, much more where the benefit
so far exceeds all possible thankfulness.
Ought you to serve and obey him ? Doubt-
less he hath, for that purpose, redeemed you
with his precious blood. And, truly, there
is no obedience nor service so full and so
cheerful as that which flows from love.
Should you study conformity to Christ, and
labour to be like him ? Yes, for this is to
walk worthy of Christ ; then there is nothing
assimilates so much as love. Men delight
in their society whom they love, and by
their society they do insensibly contract their
customs, and become like them. These
virgins that love Christ for his graces, they
love to converse with him ; and by convers-
ing with him, they receive of his graces,
and have a smell of his perfumes. Not only
do they, by the smell of his garments, or
such imposed rites, obtain the blessing, but
likewise smell like him by the participation
of sanctifying grace, of his wisdom and ho-
liness in a pure and godly conversation,
(abstaining from the impure lusts and pollu-
tions of the world,) of his meekness and
humility. Never think that one and the
same soul can have much pride and much
of Christ ; ever the more grace a man hath,
the more sense hath he likewise of his own
unworthiness, and God's free mercy, and,
consequently, the more humility. If you
love Christ, you cannot choose but be like
him in love to your brethren. This is ex-
pressly compared by the Psalmist, to the
precious'ointment poured upon Aaron's head,
that ran down to the skirts of his garments.
Our head and high-priest, the Lord Jesus,
hath incomparably testified his love to be-
lievers, whom he is pleased to call his bre-
thren. They are far from equalling him, either
in love to him or one to another ; but they
do imitate him in both. This is his great
commandment, that we love one another,
even as he loved us, which is expressed
both as a strong motive and a high example.
It is not possible that a spirit of malice and
implacable hatred can consist with the love
of Christ. Finally, Should you be ready to
suffer for Christ ? Yes : then love is that
which will enable you ; and if you were in-
flamed with this fire, then, though burned
for him, that fire would only consume your
dross, and be soon extinguished, but this
would endure for ever.
By these and the like evidences, try whe-
ther you indeed love the Lord Jesus Christ ;
and by these fruits, you that profess to love
him, testify the sincerity of your love ; and
be assured, that if you be now found amongst
these virgins that love him, you shall one
day be of the number of those virgins that
are spoken of, (Rev. xiv. 3, 4,) that sing a
new song before the throne of God.
If you hate the defilements of the world,
and be not polluted with inordinate affection
to the creature, it shall never repent you to
have made choice of Christ ; he shall fill
your hearts with peace and joy in believing.
When you come to his house and table, he
shall send you home with joy and sweet
consolation, such as you would not exchange
with crowns and sceptres ; and after some
few of these running banquets here below,
you shall enter into the great marriage sup-
per of th» Lamb, where faith shall end in
sight, and hope in possession, and love
continue in perpetual and full enjoyment,
where you shall be never weary, but for ever
happy in beholding the face of the blessed
Trinity, to whom be glory. Amen.
SERMON IX.
31)3
SERMON IX.
PREFACE.
How true is that word of our Saviour,
who is truth itself, Without me ye can
do nothing, severed from me, as that branch
that is not in me ! They that are altogether
out of Christ in spiritual exercises, do no-
thing at all. It is true, they may pray and
hear the word, yea, and preach it too, and
yet, in so doing, they do nothing, nothing
in effect. They have the matter of good
actions ; but it is the internal form gives
being to things. They are but a number
of empty words and a dead service to a living
God ; for all our outward performances and
worship of the body is nothing but the body
of worship, and therefore nothing but a car-
case, except the Lord Jesus, by his Spirit,
breathe upon it the breath of life. Yea,
the worshipper himself is spiritually dead,
till he receive life from Jesus, and be quick-
ened by his Spirit. If this be true, then
it will follow necessarily, that where num-
bers are met together, (as here,) pretending
to serve and worship God, yet he hath very
few that do so indeed, the greatest part
being out of Christ ; and such being with-
out him, thev can do nothing in his service.
ture, yet it is predominant. The main bent
of a renewed man is obedience and holiness,
and any action of that kind he rejoices in ;
but the sin that escapes him he cannot look
upon but with regret and discontent. But,
alas ! they that be so minded are very thin
sown in the world, even in God's peculiar
fields, where the labourage of the gospel is,
and the outward profession of true religion
unanimously received. Yet the number of
true converts, spiritual-minded persons, is
very small, the greatest part acting sin with
delight, and taking pleasure in unrighteous-
ness, living in disobedience to God, as in
their proper element ; and the reason is, the
contrariety of their nature to our holy Lord.
The carnal mind is enmity against God.
The mind,
Some render it,
ROMANS viii. 7.
Because the carnal mind is enmity against
God ; for it is not subject to the law of
God, neither indeed can be.
THE ordinary workings and actions o(
creatures are suitable to their nature, as the
ascending of light things, and the moving
of heavy things downwards ; so the vital anc
sensitive actions of things, that have life
and sense. The reasonable creature, it is
true, nath more liberty in its actions, freely
choosing one thing and rejecting another
yet it cannot be denied, that in acting of tha
liberty, their choice and refusal follow th
sway of their nature and condition. As the
angels and glorified souls, (their nature be
ing perfectly holy, and unalterably such,
they cannot sin, they can delight in nothing
but in obeying and praising that God, in th
enjoyment of whom their happiness consist
eth ; still ravished in beholding his face
The saints, again, that have not yet reachet
that home, and are but on their journey, the;
are not fully defecated and refined from th
dross of sin : there are in them two parties
natural corruption and supernatural grace
and these keep a struggling within them
but the younger shall supplant the elder
Grace shall in the end overcome, and in th
mean while, though it be not free from mix
the prudence or wisdom of the flesh. Here
you have it, the carnal mind ; but the word
signifies, indeed, an act of the mind, rather
lan either the faculty itself or the habit of
rudence in it, so as it discovers what is the
rame of both those. The minding, as it is
sed, ver. 5, conforms to that of Moses,
Gen. vi. 5 t " Every imagination of the
Noughts of man's heart is only evil conti-
nually." The word, indeed, signifies the wise
tioughts. So, then, take the full latitude of
t thus : " The carnal mind, in its best
and wisest thoughts, is direct enmity against
od."
Carnal, T»S <nt£xos. What is meant by
he flesh here ? It is the whole corrupt
nature of man ; and that we may know by
ts opposition to the Spirit, not to the spirit
or soul of a man, for so it hath no thoughts
or minding, these being proper to the soul,
nit opposed to the Spirit of God.
Now, the corruption of nature is called
:he flesh, not without very good reason, not
only to signify the baseness of it, the flesh
being the more ignoble and meaner part of
a man ; but because the greatest part of the
sins of men's lives are about sensitive ob •
lects, and things that concern the flesh or the
body. It lets in temptation of sin to the
soul by the doors of the senses, and it gives
the last perfection or accomplishment to sin
by external acting of it. The very first sin
that brought in death and misery with it
upon mankind, the pleasure of the eye and
of the taste, were sharers in the guiltiness
of it.
The carnal mind.
Man, in regard of
his composure, is, as it were, the tie and band
of heaven and earth ; they meet and are
married in him. A body he has taken out
of the dust, but a soul breathed from hea-
ven, from the Father of spirits ; a house of
clay, but a guest of most noble extraction.
But the pity is, it hath forgot its original,
and is so drowned in flesh that it deserves no
other but to go under the name of flesh. It
is become the slave and drudge of the body
SERMON IX.
and, as the Israelites in Egypt, made perpe-
tually to moil in clay. What is all your
merchandise, your trades and manufactures,
your tillage and husbandry, but all for the
body, in its behalf, for food and raiment ?
In all these the mind must be careful and
thoughtful, and yet properly they reach it not,
for itself hath no interest in them. It is
true, the necessity of the body requires much
of these things, and superfluous custom far
more ; but it is lamentable that men force
their soul to forget itself and its proper
business, to attend these things only, and be
busy in them. They spend all their time
and their choicest pains upon perishing
things, and, which is worse, engage their
affections to them. They mind earthly
thing*, whose end is destruction, Philip, iii.
19. The same word that is here, if^ayti^a. TVS
<ra.axo;, &C.
Will you consider seriously, that your
souls run the hazard of perishing, because
you consider not their spiritual nature ?
When that earthly tabernacle of yours shall
fall to the ground, (and ere long it must,]
your souls must then enter eternity, and
though you had as large a share of earthly
things as your earthly hearts now would
wish, they all lose their use in that moment.
They are not a proper good for the soul at
any time, and least at that time. If you
keep it all your life long, busy about the in-
terest and benefit of the flesh, the body, how
poor will it be when they part, having pro-
vided nothing at all for itself, but the guilti-
ness of a sinful life, which will sink it into
that bottomless pit ! Be forewarned then :
for to be carnally minded is death, verse 6,
apostle, Philip, iii. 8, that they may win
Jhrist, and they account all other tilings loss
n comparison ; and their desires are after
Measure too, but not carnal pleasures, these,
re both base and of short continuance, but
he pleasures they aim at, are those that are
at God's right hand, and for evermore,
Psalm xvi. 11. And that path of life he
there speaks of, that way of holiness that
.eads thither, is their delight. Spiritual ex-
ercises they go to, not as their task only, but
nore as their joy and refreshment. And this
change the Spirit of God works in the soul,
making it (yea, and the body wherain it
dwells) of carnal to become spiritual, as the
ire, to which the Holy Ghost is compared,
refines sand and ashes, and makes of them
the purest glass, which is so neat and trans-
preceding the text.
The carnal mind.
Now
hath
abased and degenerated the soul of man,
making it carnal, so the Son of God, by tak-
ing on our nature, hath sublimated it again,
and made it spiritual. The souls that re-
ceived him are spiritualized ; yea, as sin
made the soul carnal, grace makes the very
body to become spiritual, making it partaker
and co-worker in spiritual things, together
with the soul, in doing and suffering, and
participant of the hopes too of an everlasting
reward. This is the main Christian charac-
ter our apostle gives here, that they are spi-
ritually-miiided, and that their actions sui
their minds ; they walk not after the flesh
Intt after the spirit. Whereas before, with
the rest of the world, they were eager in the
pursuit of honours, and profits, and worldly
pleasures ; the stream of their desires now
runs in another channel : they seek after
parent.
Enmity against God.
Sin hath not only
made us unlike God, by defacing his beau-
tiful image in us ; not only strangers, by
making us wander far off from him, but
enemies ; nor enemies only, but enmity in
the abstract ; for that is emphatical — The
carnal mind is enmity, nothing else but
enmity.
Now this enmity is described in the latter
clause of the text, by an antipathy, so to call
it, or not compliance with the law of God ;
it is not subject to the law of God, neither
can it be, to wit, while it remains such.
There is an absolute impossibility in it to
suit with the law of God, and consequently
with God himself. The reason lies in their
opposite qualities : God is spiritual and
holy, and so is the law, as our apostle hath
it in the preceding chapter ; and the opposi-
tion he there makes, betwixt his unregene-
rate part and the law, is wholly true of the un.
regenerate man. The law is holy, says he,
verse 12; and, verse 14, It is spiritual ; to
which he opposes, But I am carnal, sold
under sin.
Where are now those that so vilify grace
and magnify nature ? Or, shall I rather say,
nullify grace and deify nature ? Here is the
best eulogy the apostle will bestow upon the
best of natures — enmity against God. Nay,
all the sparkles of virtue and moral goodness
in civil men and ancient heathens, is no
better ; besides many other things to be said
to the virtues of those philosophers, as igno-
rance of Christ, by whom alone this enmity
is removed.
I should easily confess, nor (I think) can
any deny it, but that there is in the very
ruins of our nature, some character left of a
tendency to God, as our chief and only sa-
honour, and are very ambitious of it ; but it tisfying good, which we may call a kind of
is such honour as the apostle speaks of in love, and when we hear them spoken of
this epistle, Rom. ii. 7, By patient continu-
ance in well-doing, they seek for glory, and
honour, and immortality : their mind
find it flutter and stir ; and hence men so
abhor the imputation of hating God and
being enemies. Yet this is so smothered
upon profit and gain, but it is with the same under sensuality and flesh, that until we be
SERMON IX.
395
made spiritual, nothing appears but practi- And it is tlie error, not only of natural
cal, and, as they call it, interpretative enmity, men, but somewhat of the godly too that in
There is one thing stains them enough — 'self-reformation they set themselves' against
they were all, as that father speaks, anima- \ actual sin, but they lay not the axe to the
Ka gloria ; they aimed not in their study of root of the tree, this root of bitterness, this
virtue at God's glory, but at their own ; and, our inbred and natural enmity against God •
is not that quarrel enough, and matter of i and till this be done, the lopping off of some
enmity ? Says not he, My glory I will not branches will do no good ; while the root is
give unto another ?
But that is most useful for you, to con-
vince you of that too good conceit men have
of their natural condition. You would take
it hardly, the most profane of you all, if
any should come to you, in particular, and
tell you, you are an enemy to God ; but I
answer, there is none of you, if you be-
lieve the Scriptures, but will confess that all
men are naturally such ; and therefore, ex-
cept we find in ourselves a notable alteration
from the condition of nature, we must take
with it that we are enemies, yea, enmity to
God : of strangers to become acquainted
with him, yea, which is more, of enemies to
become friends, is a greater and more re-
markable change than to be incident to a
man without any evidence and sign of it.
I know there is a very great variety in the
way and manner of conversion ; and to some,
especially if it be in their tender years, grace
may be instilled, and dropped in as it were
insensibly. But this I may confidently say,
that whatsoever be the way of working it,
there will be a wide and apparent diffe-
rence betwixt friendship with God and the
condition of nature, which is enmity against
him. Do not flatter yourselves ; so long as
your minds remain carnal, ardent in love to
the world and cold in love to God, lovers of
pleasures more than lovers of God, (as the
apostle speaks,) you are his enemies ; for
with him there is no neutrality. That which
they say, taxing it as a weakness in the sex,
Ant amat, aut odit mulier, nihil est ter-
iium, is, in this case, necessarily true of all.
And this is God's peculiar, that he can
judge infallibly of the inside. Those sha-
dows of friendship men use one with an-
other, will not pass with him. Deceived he
cannot be ; but men may easily, and, alas !
too many do deceive themselves in this matter
to their own ruin.
We may learn, hence, how deep sin goes
in our nature, and, consequently, that the
cure and remedy of it must go as deep ; that
all the parts of our bodies and powers of our
souls are polluted originally, our very mind
and conscience, as the apostle speaks ; for it
is immersed in flesh, and enslaved to flesh
naturally, and therefore goes under its name ;
we are become all flesh ; that is the spring
of our mischiefs ; we have lost our likeness
w ith our Father, the Father of spirits, and
the purest and most spiritual Spirit, till re-
newed by participation of his Spirit on our
flesh.
in vigour these will grow again, and, pos-
sibly, faster than before. Bewail every
known act of sin,' as much as you can, for
the least of them deserves it : but withal,
let the consideration of them lead you into
thoughts of this seed of rebellion, the wick-
edness of our nature, that takes life with us
in the womb, and springs and grows up with
us, and this will humble us exceedingly,
and raise our godly sorrow to a higher tide.
We find David taketh this course, Psalm
li. 5, where he is lamenting his particular
sin of adultery and murder : it leads him to
the sinfulness of his nature — / teas shapen
in iniquity, and in sin did my mother con-
ceive me, or, warm me ; which he mentions,
not to extenuate and diminish his sin ; no,
he is there very far from that strain, but
adds it as a main aggravation. Indeed, the
power of original sin, in the regenerate., is
laid very low, yet not altogether extinct,
which they find often to their grief, and
makes them cry out with oui apostle, in the
former chapter, O wretched man that I am,
who shall deliver me from this body of
death ? The converted are already delivered
(as he adds) from the dominion of it, but
not from the molestation and trouble of it.
Though it is not a quiet and uncontrouled
master, as it was before, yet it is in the
house still as an unruly servant or slave,
ever vexing and annoying them : and this
body of death they shall have still cause to
bewail, till death release them. This le-
>rosy hath taken so deep in the walls of this
louse, that it cannot perfectly be cleansed
till it be taken down ; and it is this, more
han any other sorrows or afflictions of life,
hat makes the godly man not only content
o die, but desirous ; longing with our
ipostle, to be dissolved, and be with Christ,
i-hich is far better.
As this teaches us the misery of man s
nature, so it sets off and commends exceed.
ingly the riches of God's grace. Are men
naturally his enemies ? Why then, admire
his patience and bounty a little, and then
we will speak of his saving grace. Could
not he very easily ease himself of his adver-
saries ? as he says by the prophet. Wants
he power in his right hand to find out and
cut oft' all his enemies ? Surely, no ; not
only he hath power to destroy them all in a
moment, but the very withdrawing of his
hand that upholds their being, (though they
consider it not,) would make them fall to
nothing Yet is he pleased not only to
396
SP;KMON x.
spare transgressors, but to give them many
outward blessings — rain and fruitful sea-
tons, as the apostle speaks, Acts xiv. 17 ;
and the earth that is so full of man's rebel-
lion, is yet more full of his goodness : The
earth is full of thy goodness. It is re-
markable, that that same reason which is
given (Gen. vi. 5,) of the justice of God in
drowning the world, is, (viii. 21,) rendered
as the reason of God's resolved patience ever
since. Then,
His grace, in finding a way of reconcile-
ment,, and not sparing his own Son, his
only-begotten Son, to accomplish it. Nor
did he spare himself. O, matchless love !
to lay down his life, not for friends but for
strangers ! Not only so, but enemies, for
unrighteous and ungodly persons, such as
be at enmity against him, Rom. v. 7> 8,
&c. And having done this, he sends his
word, the message of reconciliation, to re-
bels, and sends his Spirit into the hearts of
those whom he hath appointed to salvation,
to change their spirits, that they perish not
in disobedience ; he brings them near that
were afar off, having slain this enmity by
the death of his Son.
As many of you, then, as have hitherto
heard this message of reconcilement in vain,
be persuaded at last to give ear to it. This
is all that God's ambassadors require, ac-
cording to their instructions from himself,
•' That men would lay down that enmity
against him, and not be so foolish as wil-
fully to perish in it." 2 Cor. v. 20.
Consider that this enmity is, 1st, unjust ;
2dly, unhappy. Unjust it is, being against
Him who is the chief object of love, who is
altogether goodness, both in himself and
towards his creatures. It is too much not
to love him with most ardent and superlative
affection ; but to entertain enmity against
him, is madness : as he said to one who
asked, Why are the beautiful loved ? It is
a blind man's question. Certainly we are
blind, if we see not cause enough not only
to desist from enmity, but to be inflamed
with his love. One glance of his amiable
countenance is sufficient to cause the most
rebellious heart to yield, and lay down arms,
and for ever devote themselves to his service.
No, we know him not, and therefore it is we
hold out against him. Is he not the living
spring of all our comforts ? Have we not
from him life, and breath, and all things ?
And is he not ready to forgive iniquity,
transgression, and sin ? Let mercy melt
our hearts to him, those sweet rays of love.
Let his loving-kindness overcome these stub-
born hearts or spirits of ours. Among ene-
mies, the weaker usually seek first for peace,
but here the mighty ; Almighty God comes
to intreat agreement with sinful clay.
But if this prevail not, then think how
afraid of men, and these weak men, of men
like yourselves, whose breath is in their nos-
trils, will ye not tremble at his power, and
be afraid to continue in terms of hostility
against him who is the Lord of hosts, who
hath power of the soul and body both, to
kill both and cast them into hell ? What is
the stoutest of men, but as stubble to the
flame of his wrath ? Our God is a con-
suming fire. The sinners in Zion are
afraid (says the Prophet). Who shall
dwell) say they, with devouring fire and
everlasting burnings 9 Then if you would
not perish, when his wrath is kindled, take
that word of Eliphaz, Job xxii. 21 : " Ac-
quaint now thyself with him, and be at
peace ; thereby good shall come unto thee."
And to you, so many as he hath taken
into friendship with himself, look backward
to the gulph you have escaped, and forward
to the happiness you are appointed to, and
let the joint consideration of both awaken
your hearts and tongues to praises. How
can your hearts contain such a wonder of
love as he hath manifested to you, and not
run over in songs and praise ?
And as you owe him praises, so study,
being made his friends, to become more like
him : that same idem velle et idem nolle,
to love and hate the same things with him,
will be a sure testimony of friendship. And
because carnality, or fleshly and earthly-
mindedness, is here made the character of
enmity, mortify these affections, nail them
to that cross of Christ, whereby the enmity
was taken away. And further, being once
admitted into friendship, labour for a fur-
ther degree of intimacy with him, and for-
bear every thing that may hinder that : use
frequent converse with him, for that both
entertains and increases friendship. If any
thing fall on your part, (as it too often does,)
that may occasion any strangeness betwixt
you and your God, rest not till it be remov-
ed. And if you walk in this way, it shall
undoubtedly, at length, bring you where you
shall abide in his presence for ever, and shall
no more fear any breach or interruption of
enjoying him. To him be praise. Amen.
SERMON X.
ROMANS xiii. 5 — 8.
Wherefore ye must needs be subject, not
only for wrath, but also for conscience'
sake, &c. Owe no man any thing, bui
to love one another, &c.
THE wisdom and goodness of God that
shines in the natural order and dependence
•uihappy this enmity is. You that are so of things in the frame of the great world,
SERMON X.
397
appears likewise, and commends itself to us,
in the civil order he hath instituted in the
societies of men, the lesser world. As out
of the same mass he made the heaven and
the earth, and the other elements betwixt
them, one higher than another, and gave
them different stations and qualities, yet so
different as to be linked and concatenated
together, concordia discordia, and all for
the concern and benefit of the whole : Thus,
for the good of men, hath the Lord assigned
these different stations of rule and subjec-
tion, though all of one race, Acts xvii. 26,
raising from among men some above the
rest ; and clothed them with such authority,
as hath some representment of himself, and
accordingly communicating to them his own
name — I have said, you are gods. And
the very power that is in magistracy to curb
and punish those that despise it, the apostle
useth a strong and hard cord to bind on the
duty of obedience — a cord of necessity. But
he adds another of a higher necessity, that
binds more strongly and yet more sweetly,
that of conscience : Wherefore ye must
needs be subject, not only for wrath, but
also for conscience'1 sake.
Observe, 1. This is the main considera-
tion that closes the discourse, the great cord
that binds on and fastens all the rest ; all
the arguments foregoing, therefore, are main-
ly here to be pressed. " Have a reverent
and conscientious respect to the ordinance of
God in the institution of government, and to
the providence of God in his choice of those
particular persons whom he calls to it. Con-
tain thyself in thy own station, and submit
to those set higher by the Lord, in obedience
to him." This indeed is the only true
spring of all obedience, both to God and to
men, for him, and according to his ordinance.
To regulate the outward carriage, withoul
the living principle of an enlightened and
sanctified conscience within, is to build with-
out a foundation. This is the thing Got1
eyes most : he looks through the surface ol
men's actions to the bottom, follows them
into their source, examines from what per-
suasives and reasons they flow ; he sees not
only the handle of the dial, but all the wheels
and weights of the clock that are the cause
of its motion, and accordingly he judges
both men and their actions to be good am
evil, as the inward frame and secret motions
of the heart are in his own worship. The
outside of it may have the same visage anc
plausible appearance in a multitude conven-
ed to it and concurring in it, and no human
eye can trace a difference, and yet, oh, wha
vast difference doth God's eye discover
amongst them ! He sees the multitude o
those that are driven to his house by the
power of civil and church laws, or carried to
it only with the stream of company and cus
torn ; and these I fancy take up the mos
room in our churches. But he sees here and
here, where such are in any corner that wor-
hip him in singleness of heart, out of con-
cience to his holy command, and of their
many obligations, that dare not let pass any
opportunity they can reach of doing service
.o their Lord, and that dare not slight his
word ; and thus coming for conscience' sake,
they do present their souls to receive his
word, give their hearts up to receive the im-
pression of it, put themselves under it, to be
stamped by it according to that, Rom. vi. 17.
' But ye have obeyed from the heart that
?orm of doctrine which was delivered you."
So likewise he sees those that bear his name
to his people, the ministers of his word. If
they preach constantly and live blamelessly,
and are diligent and improvable in all the
external parts of their walking, this last sa-
tisfies men's questions in their inspection and
visitings : but God's inquiry and visiting
searches deeper ; he asks from what heart all
this conies, if from a holy conscience of the
weight and high importance of their holy
calling, and a faithful respect to the interest
of their Master's glory and his people's souls.
And thus he, as supreme judge, sits and con-
siders the proceedings of judges and magis-
trates, not only whether they do that which
is just ; for often they cannot easily or safely
do otherwise ; but whether they do it with
regard to him or not ; that is, whether they
judge righteously, for conscience' sake, or
not ; whether they do consider him, as sit-
ting above them, when they sit down upon
the bench or seat of justice, and do indeed
truly speak righteousness, Psalm Iviii. 1.
Or if in heart they work wickedness, if they
have any corrupt end, or hearts that are not
straight, he sits on their heart and judges it.
Or if this be done either for base gain, or
vain glory, or by compulsion, or outward
necessity, or danger of censure ; or if it be
this latter, an inward necessity of conscience,
which makes a true willingness.
Thus people, if they obey for wrath, which
is, for fear of the magistrates' sword, more
than for conscience of the Lord's command,
God accounts not this obedience, but in his
judgment it goes for no better than rebellion.
It is to be feared, too many magistrates, and
others, have in this nation embraced the re-
formation, not at all for conscience' sake,
but only for wrath, fear of laws and autho-
rity. But although we are not able to follow
forth this search to the full, that being the
Lord's own prerogative ; yet, truly, where it
is evident to us, that there is nothing of con-
science, though in civil things it may pass,
yet in things that are peculiarly matters of
conscience in religion, men ought to be some-
what wary, according to the utmost of due
discerning, and are possibly somewhat to
blame in promiscuously admitting of such
whose carriage, yea, whose profession and re-
SERMON X,
ligion speaks aloud, that their compliance
was wholly constrained obedience, only for
wrath and not for conscience.
If civil authority is to be obeyed most for
conscience, then church-authority, that is
more symbolical with conscience, and hath
nearer reference to it, ought to aim most at
that. Conviction and conversion is our
work, and not conslraint ; to bring people
both by the word, and by a way of disci-
pline, suiting and backing it, to a sense of
sin, and spiritual thoughts of God and his
holy law, lhat they may be subject more for
conscience than for wrath.
And ye people, labour more to find the
actings of lhat holy fear of God, and con-
science of his will, in all your ways ; study
to have an inward light, a practical, sanctify-
ing light, directing you ; and be not merely
held in as beasls, by ihe aulhority and laws
of men ; but learn to know, and be sensible
of the sovereign authority of the mosl high
God and his law, and lo have respect unto
all his commandments. If ihis were once
done, how regular a motion would it keep
amongst all superiors and inferiors of alT
.sorts, in families and states, the one com-
manding, the olher obeying in God ! I
would be as sweel music in the celestial choi
of iheir lives and affairs. Righl informing
and right moving consciences, would be a
continual teachers within, directing all in
obedience, and would make it both more con
stanl, sweet and pleasant, as natural motion
whereas it is grievous and violent that i
from wrath or outward power, and therefor
lasts not : as the Israelites worshipped Go(
aright while their good judges lived, and ran
after idols when they were removed.
Again : This same obedience for con
science ennobles and sublimates men's ac
tions, even in civil things, makes them havi
somewhat divine, turns all into sacrifice to
God, when all is done for God ; even ser
vants and children obeying masters anc
parents ; subjects magistrates, for his com
mand's sake : and still thinking, in th<
whole course of their regular, due carriage
in their very callings, " This I do for God
my ordinary labour and works, and my jus
obedience to men, I offer up to him." Thi
is the philosopher's stone, thai lurns action
of lower metal into gold ; I set the Lord al
ways before me, Psalm xvi. 8.
Obs. 2. Kings, and other powers of ih
world, who are the enemies, and sometime
the enraged persecutors of our holy religion
mistake their quarrel, and are very wrong
fully misprejudiced against it, and upon lha
false supposition do hale and oppose it, sus
peeling ii as an enemy to their dignity and
authority ; whereas there is nothing tha
doth so much assert iheir jusl power as re-
ligion dolh. Civil laws may tie the hands
and tongue »o their obedience but religion
inds all due subjection to them upon the
ery consciences of their people. Therefore
hey are both ingrale and unwise, in using
heir power against religion, which it so
much strengthens. Their power should
strengthen it, both by way of due relurn, lo
correspond with it in that, and even for its
own inleresl, receiving a new establishment
to itself by establishing religion. Even that
master of irreligious policy confesses, * thai
ihe professor of religion is a friend lo aulho-
rity ; but if ihe shadow of it do any thing
that way, we see, contrary to his profane sup-
position, ihe subslance and truth of it doth
it much more.
Obs. 3. If for conscience' sake, subjec-
tion ; ihen, sure, in nothing against the true
rule of conscience, and prime object of con-
science, the authority and law of God. That
is the first and highest, and the perpelual,
unalterable engagement to him, binding
kings and subjects, high and low ; and if
they leave iheir station, we ought to keep
ours still in a straight subjection to God ;
for ihe extent of friendship, and all other
relations, and of all subjection and obedi-
ence, is lo be ruled and bounded, usque ad
aras. Give to Caesar the things that are
Caesar's, but nothing of God's ; neither ours
to give nor his to receive.
For, for this cause pay you tribute also.
This the aposlle gives as a sign of lhal con.
fessed righi lhat magistrates have to the
subjection and obedience of the people, that
in all nations this homage and acknowledge-
menl is due to them, tribute paid ; which,
it may be, he ihe rather mentions, because
some question might be, what might Chris-
tians do concerning this. However, this,
according to the constilution of several places,
he takes as granted, to be not only lawful,
but due to be rendered. Here we are not tc
insist on the scanning of this ; but, certain,
ly, as ihe power of a magistrate is not in
this, nor in any olher Ihing, absolute and
unbounded, so the legal and' just paying of
tribute and other revenues by ihe people,
argues iheir engagement to those set over
them, and is nol as wages lo a mercenary
servanl, but an honorary due to their place
and calling, who are the ministers of God
in civil government. So also, convenient,
yet liberal maintenance to the ministers of
God's own house is their right, yel not to
enrich them : nor yel ought it lo be given
them grudgingly, as undue ; or supercilious-
ly, as to servants ; bul wilh the cheerfulness
and respect agreeable to the Lord's servants,
watching for their souls.
All tribute and obedience stiL relates to
this, and is grounded on it — the Lord's in-
stitution of power and government, for the
good of men. Though it sometimes proves
otherwise in the exercise of it, yet the or-
* Machiavel.
SEKMON X.
309
dinance is pure, and most wisely suited to ; primarily to him, which the most neglect,
its end, from which the sin and corruption Honour and fear are due to him as to our
of men turns it but too often; so that one man father and master, and yet where is it to he
rules over another to his hurt, to the hurt of found ?" If I be a father, where is mine
Honour ? And if I be a master, where is my
fear?" &c. Mai. i. 0. The tribute of
praise and glory in all these is due, and
both the ruler himself and of the ruled. Ec-
cles. viii.9, " There is a time wherein one man
ruleth over another to his own hurt ;" each
proving a scourge to the other, in the just
judgment of God on both for their iniquities,
making a fire from Abimelech to devour the
men of Shechem, and the men of Shechem
deal treacherously with Abimelech, Judges
ix. 20. Yet, still the thing itself remains
good. Many skilful physicians may kill
instead of curing ; yet it is but a caprice to
decry all remedies, and the use of things
medicinai, that the God of nature hath
furnished for that use. Men may, and,
alas ! most do prejudice their own health by
either intemperate or some way irregular
diet ; yet this makes nothing against the
continual necessity and use of food, nor can
dissuade any from using it. Thus, the
abuses of authority infringe not this, that
magistrates are a public good, yea, the un-
just better than none, tyranny better than
anarchy ; there is some justice done in the
most unjust government.
But thus they that are exalted to rule
ought to consider who raised them, and for
what they are raised, and so faithfully to do
justice. They are raised high, as the stars
are set in their orbs for influence and the
good of the inferior world, and as the moun-
tains which rise above the valleys, not to
be places of prey and ruin, but by the streams
they send out to refresh them : so, from
magistrates judgment ought to run down as
water, and justice as a mighty stream.
They ought to consider themselves as minis-
ters, though called magistrates with relation
to the people ; yet, ministers in relation to
God,
as the word
&ivi, and the people's in him,
u imports, being constant
labourers for their good ; even as the sun is
a minister, God's minister of heat and light
to the earth. Would they look up thus to
God, it would make them look down on
their inferiors, not with the ill aspect ol
good-will, fidelity, and vigilancy, for their
welfare, knowing that they are appointed
for this very use in the world ; not referring
to that which is nearest here, and neares<
themselves, the receiving of tribute, but
the remotest good, which is the chief for
which their tribute and themselves are ap-
pointed— the punishing of the wicked and
encouragement of the good.
Render, therefore, to all their dues,
tribute to whom tribute, &c. The apostle
enlarges his exhortation to the general rule
of equity. The humble, upright mind will
willingly suit with this, and pay respect to
ought not to be purloined, nor any part de
tained ; but how few are faithful in this !
Much uncustomed goods pass among our
hands in the course of our lives, many things
wherein we are not mindful to give glory,
entire glory to God ; but he cannot be de-
ceived ; if we go on, he will take us in our
quietest conveyance, and all will be forfeit-
ed. We shall certainly lose all if all glory
return not to him. All that we have and
are, should we daily and heartily offer up to
him, from whom we have life, and breath,
and all things.
Owe no man any thing, but to love one
another, &c. That which the apostle set
before himself, as his own study and exer-
cise, Acts xxiv. 16, he doth in the latter
part of this epistle set forth at large, as the
duty of every Christian, to keep a conscience
void of offence towards God and men. And
having in the former part of it treated amply
and excellently of the doctrine of Christians'
faith and salvation, and ascended to its
highest cause, he descends from thence to
give the rules of a Christian life ; and he
reduces them to these two : 1. To give the
Lord his due, 'which is, ourselves entire ;
our bodies ought to be a living sacrifice,
(xii. 1,) and that they are not without the
soul : and it is love in the soul that offers
up this whole burnt-offering to God the
fire that makes it ascend. 2. Towards men
likewise, love is all ; of which in many
several acts of it, he spake likewise in the
former chapter, ver. 9, &c. And having
inserted an exhortation to subjection to hu-
man authority as a divine institution, he
now returns to that main, comprehensive, and
universal duty of love, and passes fitly from
the mention of other particular dues to su-
periors ; to this, as the general due, or
standing debt, all men owe one to another.
pride and cruelty, but the benign looks of tfo, I conceive, '.his is not intended for the
further pressing of that particular duty of
subjection, by reducing it (seeming hard in
itself) to the sweet and pleasant rule, or law
of love ; but that he passes wholly from that
particular to this common duty, so as that
is not excluded, but comprehended here
with the rest, though not especially aimed
at ; but a little rivulet running a while in
its own channel, in the foregoing discourse,
falls here in again to the main current of
the doctrine of love, begun in the former
chapter. And here he chooses, adapting it
to the strain of the discourses immediately
foregoing it, to express this under the no-
Tnen in obedience to God, and therefore | tion of a debt — Owe notliing but love.
«00
SERMON X.
1. Let other debt be removed : Owe no-
thing. That is, " be not willing to con-
tinue debtors of any thing to any, by undue
retaining of such things, which being paid
are not owing."
2. " This is a constant debt that you
must still pay, and yet still owe— love ;"
and the reason added is most enforcing, that
we be willing, and continue both payers
and yet debtors of it. The dueness of
it appears in this, that the law requires it ;
and the completeness of it, that it is all the
law requires. Love is the fulfilling of the
law, which is amplified in the two subse-
quent verses.
This is most fully true ; take love fully
as it looks on its full object — God and
man ; and so it is the fulfilling of the whole
law that relates to those two in its two tables.
Take it particularly as acting towards men,
(as here it is,) and so it fulfils that part of
the law, that whole table that respects man.
The most of those commandments are ex-
pressly here set down, and the omission of
one is fully supplied by that additament, if
there be any other. Then, again, it is
cleared by the common aim and result of
them all, to keep our neighbour undamaged,
and that, love doth most surely and fully ;
therefore fulfils all. That negative, Work
no ill, answers the strain of all the command-
ments, which is to defend our neighbours
from our ill, being most of them such, and
all of them such that are here specified ;
yet, both they and this sum of them, invol-
ving the contrary working of all possible
good to our neighbour, in which still love
suits it, nothing being both more averse
from wrong, and more active in good, than
love, as the same apostle hath it, 1 Cor.
xiii. Besides that, it cannot do, no, not
so much as think evil, it is naturally carried
to bounty and kindness, and cannot cease
from doing good-
the year long.
plant that is fruitful all
The apostle hath very good authority for
this abridgment of the law — our Saviour
himself, Matt. xxii. 40 ; and he takes it
out of the books of the law themselves, and
certifies us, that it is the substance and sum
both of law and prophets. Were this love
absolutely perfect, the fulfilling of the law
would be so too ; and where it is sincere, as
the apostle requires it, there is a sincere and
evangelical obedience, or fulfilling of the law.
In the text consider, (l.)f The largeness of
its object. (2.) The largeness of its acting.
(3.) The height of its true original.
1. So far as thou canst acquit thyself,
owe nothing else to any but love ; owe that
to all ; not a like familiar converse neces-
sary to all, nor a like measure of beneficence,
nor a like degree of love, but yet love alike
sincere and real to all : not either a false,
or an empty, fair carriage, but holy Chris-
tian love, love rooted in thy heart, and
springing up in thy actions, even towards
all men, as thy opportunity and ability serves
thee, and their condition requires of thee :
not hating nor despising any for their pover-
ty in estate, or deformity of body, or defects
of mind ; nor for that which works most on
men, injuries done to thyself; all they can
do cannot give thee an acquittance, or free
thee of this debt of love, for thou art bound
to another. This is the rule of Jesus Christ
and the badge of Christians — to love their
very enemies ; but
How few attain it !
this, oh ! how rare
Yea, how few endea-
vour it ! On the contrary, it is by many
given over as a desperate, impossible busi-
ness, they judging of it not according to
that spirit of Christ that is his, but accord-
ing to the corrupt rancour and bitterness of
their own natural perverse spirits ; yea, and
too many disdain it as a poorness and sheep-
ishness of spirit to suffer and forgive. Be
it so ; yet is it such a sheepishness as makes
a man like Jesus Christ, " who, as a sheep
before the shearers is dumb, so he opened
not his mouth," when his heart within was
compassionate towards them, as appeared
when he opened it concerning them — " Fa-
ther, forgive them, for they know not what
they do." This is the true greatness of
spirit to partake of his, that is, the highest
and best of spirits, and is the spirit of meek-
ness and love. How much is this above the
common spirit of the world ! Truly, base
and poor is that which is discomposed and
put out of frame with every touch, whereas
this is mighty, and triumphs, indeed, over
all provocations and injuries.
2. Let us consider the largeness of its
acting; it goes through the law, fulfils it
all. That command that is first in the se-
cond table, that is not here expressed, is it
not love that makes all concerned in it to
fulfil it ; that produceth mildness and mo-
deration in superiors, and faithfulness and
willing obedience in inferiors ; makes both
authority and subjection sweet and easy,
where love commands and love obeys ? And
for the next, Thou shall not kill, doth not
love (as the sun-beams) put out the fire by
its divine heat, eat out the earthly, yea, the
infernal fire of mixed malice or rash anger,
that burns naturally in the hearts of men ?
Such anger is called brutish, Ezek. xxi. 31,
" burning or brutish," (and, on the con-
trary, Prov. xvii. 27, the ambiguity is happy
of an excellent, or of a cool spirit, for the
cool spirit is so : cool from base passion, but
burning truly with this love,) and then
is by very small and, many times, merely
imaginary causes, so easily blown up, that
it flames forth into gross murders, or, at
least, such injuries and violences, or conten-
tions and revilings, as go in God's account,
and are writ down in his book, for murders.
SERMON X.
401
And he doth not misjudge nor misname a kind of love, yet not from this love from
things, but they are really what he accounts above, but (as the Apostle James distin-
them. Love can generally pass over those guishes wisdom) from, the love that is sen-
things, about which folly and pride make sual and devilish. Love is not the true
such a noise. OA .' can I bear this and name of it — but base and brutish lust : an d
that ? And thou wouldest, by so saying, generally all profane societies and sortings of
speak thy stout-heartedness. Fool ! is this \ men, one with another, are most contrary to
stoutness and strength ? Is it not rather the j this pure love. The drunkards that are cup
greatest weakness to be able to bear nothing ? ( friends, as they are full of jars, and have no
Have not the weakest persons much of that constancy, but are unstable as that wherein
kind of stoutness and strength, who are the
soonest moved and disquieted — women and
children, and sick or aged persons ? But
love, Christian love to thy brother, makes
the mind truly strong and composed, not
easily stirred against him for every trifle ;
nay, nor for greater matters. Love can en-
dure much, yea, all things, says the apostle,
1 Cor. xiii. 7 '•> hath strength to stand under
them, and stand firm ; whereas base minds,
void of love, break all to pieces under a very
mall weight : Bears all, as the supporters
of a strong and firm building ; or rather, as
house covers all, for so it signifies ; doth
not blaze abroad the failings of men ; yea,
t hides much, covers a multitude of sins,
not only from the eyes of others, but even
rom a man's own eyes ; makes him not be-
iold and look on those things that might
>rovoke him. Yea, it is ingenious and in-
entive of the fairest constructions of things
o take them by the best side, in the most
avourable sense ; and so long as there is
any agreeable way to interpret any thing fa-
•ourably, will not have a hard thought of it,
thinks no ill, as there it is : Not only hath
not active evil thoughts of revenge, or re-
turning evil, but willingly doth not judge ill
of what is done by others, and that might
>e so looked on as to provoke ; eu *.oyi'Ci<rai,
doth not reckon wrong so high as want of
charity moves the most to do ; sets them
,ow, and, as a healthful constitution, is sweet
tself, and relishes all things right. There
:s more true pleasure and content of mind in
forgiving, than ever any man found in re-
venge. That is but a feverish delight that
malice and anger hath wrought, working
perhaps greedily ; but is indeed a distemper.
This love is the very root of peace and con-
cord, a humble grace, that is not lifted up
and insolent, as the word there is, and so
doth not breed jars about punctilios ; es-
teems so well of others, and so meanly of it-
self, that it cannot well be crossed by any
in that matter of undervaluing. But vain
spirits are puffed up with a little approba-
tion, and as easily kindled up with any af-
front, or apprehended disgrace. Love is not
lightly put out of temper, as sickly constitu-
their friendship lies, their liquor, are a vile,
despicable society, not worthy of men, much
less of Christians. This sin hath affinity
with uncleanness, and is usually ranked
here. Right love to a tippler is not to sit
down and guzzle with him, but to reprove
and labour to reclaim him ; and where that
cannot be done, to avoid him. To wicked
persons we owe not a complacency or de-
ight, which is most contrary to this love ;
aut, hating their sin, we owe them love, and
the desiring and (as far as love can) the
procuring their conversion and salvation.
Wicked converse cannot consist with this
love, which is the fulfilling of the law, and
a combination for the breaking of it, and
the joining their strength together for that
snd. Love rejoiceth not in iniquity, but in
the truth ; makes not men rejoice togethel
in sin ; so foul, unclean affections, and a
society in order to the gratifying them, is
most contrary to it. True love is most
tender to the chastity of others, and cannot
abide an impure thought in itself.
So in not stealing. Love would be loath
to enrich or advantage itself upon the da-
mage of others in any kind ; it doth most
faithfully and singly seek the profit and
prosperity of our neighbour, even as our
own : and if this took place, of how much
use were it in the world ! But, oh ! it is
rare. This meum and tuum is the grand
cause of the ill understanding and discords
that are amongst men, when it is not ma-
naged by this love, but by self-love.
And the tendering and preserving of the
good name of our brethren, is a proper and
very remarkable fruit of this love, which is
so far from forging false, defaming stories,
that it will rather excuse, if it may be done,
or if not, will pity the real failings of men
that tend to their reproach ; and, on the
contrary, will teach men to rejoice in the
good carriage and good esteem of their bre»
thren as of their own.
in the good of others, and such a contenta-
tion with our own estate, that it most power-
fully banishes that unruly humour of covet-
ing, which looks on the condition of others
tions, a fit of a fever or ague, with any blast j with envy, and on our own with grudging
or wrong touch of diet ; it is of a stronger
digestion and firmer health.
Then for that, not commit adultery ; all
and discontent.
. This law of love written within, doth not
only rectify and order the hands and tongue,
Ihings of that kind though they spring from but the jealousies, the very stirrings of the
2C
402
SERMON XI.
heart; it corrects the usual disorder of its
motion, and bars those uncharitable, inordi-
nate thoughts that do so abound and swarm
in carnal minds.
3. The original of this love is that other ^
love which corresponds to the other part, the
first and chief point of the law — our duty
towards God. Love to him is the sum and
source of all obedience ; when the whole
soul and mind is possessed with that, then
all is acceptable and sweet that he com-
mands ; first, what he commands as imme-
diately referrable to himself, and then, what
is the rule of our carriage to men as being
prescribed and commanded by him ; for so,
and no otherwise, is this love the fulfilling
of the law, when it flows from that first. love
— love to God, whose law it is that com-
mands this other love to men. Some may
have something like it, by a mildness and
ingenuity of nature, being inoffensive and
well-willing towards all ; but then only doth
it fulfil the law, when out of regard to the
law of God it obeys, and obeys out of love
to him whose law it is. So, then, the love
of God in the heart is the spring of right
and holy love to our neighbour ; both, (1.)
because in obedience to him whom we love
sovereignly, we will love others sincerely,
because he will have it so. That is reason
enough to the soul possessed and taken up
with his love. It loves nothing, how lovely
Koever, but in him, and for him, in order
and subordination to his love, and in respect
to his will ; and it loves any thing, how
unlovely soever, taking it in that contempla-
tion. It loves not the dearest friend but in
God, and can love the most hateful enemy
for him, Amicum in Deo, et inimicum
propler Deum, Aug. His love can beautify
the most unamiable object, and make it love-
ly. He saith of a worthless, undeserving
man, or thy most undeserving enemy, " Love
him for my sake, because it pleases me ;"
that is reason enough to one that loves him.
(2.) There is that dilating, sweetening vir-
tue in love to God, that it can act no other
way to men but as becomes love. Base
self-love contracts the heart, and is the very
root of all sin, the chief wickedness in our
corrupt nature ; but the love of God assimi-
lates the soul to him, makes it divine ; and
therefore bountiful, full of love to all. So
these two contradict not — Love the Lord
with all thy heart, and thy neighbour as
thyself. " If all our love must go to God,
what remains for our neighbour ?" Indeed
alLmust go upwards, and all be placed on
him, and from thence it is resounded and
regulated downwards to men according to
his will. But self-love brings forth pride,
and cruelty, and covetousness, and unclean-
ness, and disdain of others, and all such
kind of monsters ; so it is the main break-
ing of the law.
All that can be said will not persuade rner
to this, till the Lord by his love teach it and
impress it on the heart. Know that this is
the badge of Christ's followers, and his great
rule and law given to them ; and if you will
follow him, that you may come to be where
he is, then study this, that, as our Lord
Christ loved us, so also we ought to love one
another.
SERMON XI.
PREFACE.
GREAT and various are the evils that lodge
within the heart of man. Hence proceed
evil thoughts, adulteries, murders, and many
other mischiefs, as our Saviour specifies there;
they come forth apace, and yet the heart
is not emptied of them. But was this heart
thus at first, when it came newly forth of
the hands of its Maker ? Surely, no :
Man was made upright, but he found out
many inventions. Soon did the heart find
the way to corrupt itself; but to renew itself,
is as impossible as to have been the author
of its own creation. Easily could it defacs
the precious characters of God's image, but
it passes the art of men and angels to restore
them. Only the Son of God, who for that
purpose took on him our nature, can make
us, according to the apostle's phrase, par-
takers of the divine nature. It is he alone
that can banish these unclean spirits, and
keep possession that they return no more.
Have not they made a happy change of
guests that have those infernal troops turned
out of doors, and the King of Glory fixing
his abode within them ? This is the voice
of the gospel — " Lift up your heads, ye
gates, and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting
doors, that the King of Glory may enter in,"
Psalm xxiv. 7- But small is the number of
those that open where this voice is daily
sounded. Yea, some there are that grow
worse under the frequent preaching of the
word, as if sin were emulous, and, as is said
of virtue, would grow by opposition. The
truth is, too many of us turn these serious
exercises of religion into an idle divertise-
ment. Take heed that formality, and cus-
tom, and novelty, do not often help to fill
up many rooms in our church. It were in-
deed a breach of charity to entertain the ful-
ness of your assemblies with ill construction ;
no, it is to be commended. But would to
God we were more careful to shew our reli-
gion in our lives, to study to know better the
deceits and impostures of our own hearts, and
to gain daily more victory over our secret and
best-beloved sins. Let our intentions, then,
be to meet with Christ here, and to admit
him gladly to dwell and rule within us. If '<
SERMON XI.
403
he conquer our inward enemies, those with-
out shall not be able to hurt us. If he deli-
ver us from our sinful lusts, he will still oui
own distrustful fears. And that such may
be the fruits of our meeting, let us turn our-
•elves towards the throne of grace, with hum-
ble prayer, in the name of Jesus Christ the
righteous.
PSALJI Ixxvi. 10.
Surely the wrath of man shall praise thee:
the remainder of wrath shaft thou re-
strain.
What man is this, (said the passengers
in the ship,) that even the winds and the
sea obey him ? Christ suddenly turns a
great tempest into a greater calm, Matt. viii.
27. Surely those are no ordinary words of
command, that swelling waves and bolster-
ous winds, in the midst of their rage, are
forced to hear, and taught to understand and
obey them. Therefore the holding of the
seas in the hollow of his hand, the bridling
of the wind, and riding upon the wings of it,
we find peculiarly attributed to the Almighty.
But no less, if not more wonderful, is another
of his prerogatives, to-wit, his sovereignty
over all mankind, over the divers and strange
motions of the heart of man. Admirable is
it to govern those, both in respect of their
multitude and irregularity. Consider we
what millions of men dwell at once upon the
face of the earth ; and again, what troops of
several imaginations will pass through the
fancy of any one man, within the compass of
one day. It is much to keep eye upon them,
and to behold them all at once, but far more
to command and controul them all ; yet if
they were all loyal and willingly obedient,
were they tractable and easily curbed, it
were more easy for us to conceive how they
might be governed. But to bound and over-
rule the unruly hearts of men, the most of
whom continually are either plotting or act-
ing rebellion against their Lord, to make
them all concur and meet at last in one end,
cannot be done but by a power and a wisdom
that are both infinite. That God whose
name we often mention, but seldom think on
his excellency, is alone the absolute monarch
of men's hearts, and the ruler of all their mo-
tions. He hath them limited while they
Beem most free, and works his own glory ou
of their attempts, while they strive most to
dishonour him. Surely the wrath of man
thall praise thee, &c.
The Psalm is made up of these two dif
ferent sorts .of thoughts, the one arising ou
of particular experience, and the other out o
a general doctrine. These drawn from ex
perience are set down in the verses preceding
the text, and in it. With those that follow
s the doctrine, with a duty annexed to it ;
which two are faith's main supporters. By.
past particulars verify the doctrine, and the
jenerality of the doctrine serves to explain
he particular experiences to all wise obser-
vers. There is not a treasure of the merits
of saints in the church, (as some dream,)
>ut there is a treasure of the precious expe-
riences of the saints, which every believer
lath right to make use of; and thesa we
should be versed in, that we may have them
n readiness at hand, in time of need, and
enow how to use them, both to draw comfort
rom them to ourselves, and arguments to use
with God.
The words contain clearly two proposi-
ions, both of them concerning the wrath of
man. The former hath the event of it,
Surely the wrath of man shall praise thee :
.he latter, the limitation of it, The remain-
der of wrath thou wilt restrain.
That the virtues and graces of men do
>raise the Lord, all men easily understand,
or they flow from him, his image and super-
scription is upon them, and therefore no won-
der if of them he has from them a tribute of
;lory. Who knows not that faith praises
lira ? Abraham believed, and gave glory to
God. Good works, the fruits of faith, praise
lira too. Herein is your heavenly Father
glorified, (says our Saviour,) that ye bring
forth much fruit. But that the inordinate
wrath of man shall praise him, may seem
somewhat strange. Were it God's own
wrath, (as wrath is attributed to him in
Scripture,) that might praise him, for it is
always most just ; or were it a due and mode-
rate anger of man, upon just cause, that were
it for praising him too, in despite of the
Stoics. But that wicked and disordered
wrath, (which is undoubtedly here meant,)
that the wrath of men that is both uncomely
and dishonourable for themselves, (though
they think otherwise,) that even such a wrath
,hould honour God, and praise him, argues
well that he hath good right to praises, when
every thing, even things that seem contrary
to his nature, as well as to his law, do pay
them to him : and, that he hath grt-at power
and wisdom who obtains what is due to him,
even from those persons and things that of
themselves are most unwilling and unfit to
pay it. This is the excellent skill of his
wisdom, io draw that which shall go into the
making up of the precious composition of
his praise out of this poison, for so the word,
here used for wrathful heat, doth sometimes
signify. And this wrath often proves so, a
deadly poison both to those it is incensed
against, and to the very breast that breeds it,
and wherein it is kindled.
But for the clearer understanding of this,
I conceive it will be requisite to consider
more distinctly, (1.) What this wrath of
man is. (2.) How it can praise God.
4U4
SERMON XL
And lastly, The infallibility of this event :
Surely the wrath of man shall praise thce.
In the 148th Psalm, where David sum-
mons the creatures to meet in that song of
praise, to keep that full concert, he calls
not only the heavens, and the inhabitants
of it, angels and lights, but those of the
lower world, to bear their part in it ; and not
only men, beasts, cattle, creeping things, and
the flying fowl, but those creatures tha dc
most resemble this wrath here spoken of,
fire, stormy tempest, and dragons, &c.
The tenor of the psalm doth shew, that by
the wrath of man is to be understood " the
undue rage of evil and ungodly men against
those whom God owns for his people."
The word here used signifies a hot or in-
flaming wrath ; and indeed such is the
feverish, distempered anger of the church's
enemies. And as too much heat is an ene-
my to solid reason, this hot wrath of theirs
makes them incapable of wise deliberation
in themselves, and inflexible to the good
advice of others. It is true, they take coun-
sel how to execute their wrath, as we shall
hear anon, but they take no counsel that
may cool it. Anger described by its ma-
terial cause, is called a boiling of the blood
about the heart ; but this ariseth from the
apprehension of something offensive, kind-
ling a desire of revenge. Now it is a won-
der what the powers of the world find in
Christ and his harmless flock that can in-
cense them. St. James says of the tongue,
that it is set on fire of hell. The same is
the original of this wrath. Why doth the
heathen rage ? saith the Psalmist. That
is, not only To what purpose ? intimating
that it is a fruitless rage, and void of success,
in regard of God's power, But why ? that
is, Upon what occasion ? Checking the
rage as groundless and without cause, in
regard of Christ and his church's innocency.
The cause is only within themselves, to-wit,
that unhappy antipathy of the serpent's seed
against the seed of the woman. Thus this
wrath of man is the causeless, malicious en-
mity of the wicked against the church of
God. And under the name of this passion
I take to be here comprised likewise all the
attendants of it, all their crafty complot-
ments and devices for the acting of their
wrath. As there is mention of the nations'
rage against Christ, in the 2d Psalm, so
likewise of the consultations of those that
are of quality fit fnr it ; The rulers take
counsel together. Further, this wrath is
not barely their inward fire, but the vent
of it flames into cruel and outrageous prac-
tices, including likewise all the instruments
they make use of. And of all these it is true
that God shall gain glory by them ; surely
the wrath nf man shall praise thee.
The wrath of man (says the apostle) ac-
complishelh not the righteousness of Gad
how then can it accomplish his praises ?
And this is the second thing propounded.
Are grapes gathered of thorns, or fig a
of thistles ? Surely no ; therefore I called
this praise, not the fruit or proper effect of
man's wrath, but the event or consequent of
it, by the efficacy of divine providence. The
wrath of man shall praise thee. " The
use which thou wilt make of it shall tend
to thy praise. Thou wilt produce such ef-
fects from it, both in the church and upon
thine enemies, when thou sufterest thy wrath
to break forth, as shall furnish more matter
of thy praises than if thou hadst altogether
restrained it " To instance this in some
few pa. ticulars.
It is the fury of the church's enemies
that has made known to the world the in-
vincible courage and patience of the saints.
Those ages that have been most monstrous
in persecution, have most of all graced Chris-
tianity. Had there been no persecuting
emperors, who should have heard of thos.2
primitive martyrs that triumphed over the
cruelty of their torments ? Were there no
persecution, nor peril, nor sword, against
believers, we should not have heard the apos-
tle say immediately after the mention of
those, In all these we are more than con-
querors. They could not have been so
much as conquerors, had there been no con-
flict.
• Again, as the wrath of man praises God
in the invincible patience of the saints, so
likewise in the immovable stability of the
church. Is it not wonderful how so small
and weak a company, as the church hath
often been reduced to, yea, hath always
been, in respect of the world, could escaps
the mouths of so many lions, so many en-
raged enemies that were ready to devour it ?
And, that we may see that this tends solely
to the praise of her great Protector, look at
the church's song, penned by the royal pro-
phet, it is the 124th Psalm, " If it had not
been the Lord that was on our side, when
men rose up against us, then they had swal-
lowed us up quick." The great monarchies
and kingdoms of the world that have risen
with so much splendour, have had their
periods, and been buried in the dust. That
golden-headed and silver-bodied image de.
generated into worse metal as it went lower,
and the brittle feet was the cause of the fall
and breaking of all the rest. But the king-
dom of Jesus Christ, though despicable in
the world, and exposed to the wrath of the
world in all ages, stands firm, and cannot be
removed. There is a common emblem of
the winds blowing from all quarters ; and
upon the globe of the earth, being in the
middle of them, is written Immobilis.
This fitly resembles the church. Why ?
It seems to be the sport of all the winds, but
is indeed so established, that all of them.
SERMON XI.
yea, the very gates of hell cannot prevail
aqainst i(. Now the more the church's
enemies labour and moil themselves to undo
her, the more do their weakness and the
power of her Lord appear ; so that thus the
wrath of man doth praise him.
\\"hen was the church free from the
world's wrath ? To say nothing of the
church of the Jews, did not those wicked
emperors of Rome think to have made the
Christian Church short-lived, to have drown,
ed her, newly-born, in floods of her own
blood ? And in later ages, who knows not
the cruelties that have been practised by the
Turk in the east, and the proud prelate of
Rome in the west ? By which she hath
sometimes been brought to so obscure and
low a point, that if you can follow her in
history, it is by the tract of her blood ; and
if you would see her, it is by the light of those
fires in which her martyrs have been burnt.
Yet hath she still come through, and survi-
ved all that wrath, and still shall, till she
be made perfectly triumphant.
Further : Man's wrath tends to God's
praise in this, " That God, giving way to
it, does so manage it by his sublime pro
vidence, that it often directly crosses their
own ends, and conduces manifestly to his."
Pharaoh thought that his dealing more
cruelly with the Jews in their tasks and
burdens was wisdom : Let us work wisely,
says he. But whereas their ordinary servi.
lity was become familiar to them, and they
were tamed to it, that same accession of new
tyranny did prepare and dispose the Israelites
for a desire of departure, and their departure
made way for Pharaoh's destruction. Un-
digestible insolency and rage, hastening to
oe great, makes kingdoms cast them oft',
.vhich would have been far longer troubled
with their wickedness, had it been more
moderate. Surely, then, the wrath of man
commends the wisdom of God, when he
makes him by that contrive and afford the
means of his downfal. Job xviii. 7j " The
steps of his strength shall be straitened, anc
his own counsel shall cast him down," says
Bildad. And that is a sad fall; as tha
eagle that was shot with an arrow trimmei
with her own feathers.
But to close this point. It is out of al
question, that the deserved punishment o
man's unjust wrath, doth always glorify the
justice of God, and the more he gives way
to their wrath, the more notable shall be
both their punishment and the justice of it.
And though God seems neglective of his
people and of his praise, while man's wrath
prevails, yet the truth is, he never comes too
,nd when the period which he hath fixed is
come, he stops man's wrath, and gives course
unto the justice of his own. Nor is there
:hen any possibility of escaping ; he will
ight himself, and be known by executing
udgment. Surely the wrath of man shall
praise thee. And that is the third thing
ropounded, the infallibility of the event.
The Author of nature governs all his
creatures, each in a suitable way to the na-
ture he hath given them. He maintains in-
iome things a natural necessity of working,
contingency in others, and in others liberty.
But all of them are subject to this necessity
of effecting inevitably his eternal purposes ;
and this necessity is no way repugnant to
the due liberty of man's will. Some enter-
tain aad maintain the truth ; some plot,
others act and execute against it ; some
please themselves in a wise neutrality, and
will appear so indifferent, that it would
seem they might be accepted of all sides for
judges of controversies. And all these find
no less liberty to wind and turn themselves
whither they please, than if no higher hand
had the winding of them. Shall not only
the zeal of the godly, but even the wrath of
the enemy, and the cold discretion of the
neutral, all tend to his praise whose supreme
will hath a secret, but a sure and infallible
sway in all their actions ? Whilst some
passengers sit, some walk one way, some
another, some have their faces towards their
journey's end, some their back turned upon
it, this wise pilot does most skilfully guide
the ship to arrive with them all, at his own
glory. Happy they that propound and in-
tend his glory as he himself does ; for in
them shall the riches of his mercy be glori-
fied. They that oppose him lose this hap-
piness, but he is sure not to lose his glory
for all that ; to wit, the glory of his justice.
His right hand shall find out all his enemies ;
surely the wrath of man shall praise thee.
The consideration of this truth, thus in
some measure unfolded, may serve to jus-
tify the truly wise dispensation of God
against our imaginary wisdom. Were the
matter referred to our modelling, we would
assign the church constant peace and pros-
perity for her portion, and not consent that
the least air of trouble should come near her.
We would have no enemies to molest her,
nor stir against her, or if they did stir, we
would have them to be presently repressed,
and these, in our judgment, would be the
fairest and most glorious tokens of His love
and power, whose spouse she is. But this
carnal wisdom is enmity against God, and
to the glory of God, which rises so often out
late to vindicate his care of both ; and when i of the wrath of his enemies. Had God
he defers longest, the enemy pays dear inte- 1 caused Pharaoh to yield at the very first to
lest for the time of forbearance. In his 'the release of his people, where had been
eternal decree, he resolved to permit the the fame of those miraculous judgments in
course of man's wrath for his own glory, Esjypt, and mercies on the Israelites the
406
SERMON XT.
<jne setting out and illustrating the other ?
Where had been that name and honour that
God says he would gain to himself, and that
he did gain out of Pharaoh's final destruc-
tion, making that stony-hearted king, and
his troops, sink like a stone in the waters, [
as Moses sings ? Observe his proud boast-1
ings immediately foregoing his ruin : " I
will pursue," says he ; "I will overtake ; I
will divide the spoil ; my lust shall be sa-
tisfied on them ; I will draw my sword, and
my hand shall destroy them ;" soon after,
the sea quenches all this heat. Commonly,
big threatenings are unhappy presages of
very ill success. That historian says well
of God,» God surfers no other to think
highly of himself, but himself alone. And,
indeed, as he abhors these boastings, so he
delights in the abasing of the lofty heart
•whence they flow, and it is his prerogative
to gain praise to himself out of their wrath.
" Hast thou an arm like God ? (says the
Lord to Job,) then look upon the proud and
bring them low," Job xl. 9, 12. When
Sennacherib came up against Jerusalem, his
blasphemies and boastings were no less vast
and monstrous than the number of his men
and chariots : good Hezekiah turned over
the matter unto God, spreading the letter of
blasphemies before him : God undertook the
war, and assured Hezekiah that the Assy-
rian should not so much as shoct an arrow
against the city, " but return the same way
he came," 2 Kings xix. 33. And the de-
liverance there promised and effected, is
conceived to have been the occasion of pen-
ning this very Psalm. Surely when an
angel did in one night slay 185,000 in
their camps, that wrath and those threats
tended exceedingly to the prai-se of the God
of Israel. The hook that he put in Senna-
cherib's nostrils, (as the history speaks,) to
pull him back again, was mora remarkable
than the fetters would have been, if he had
tied him at home, or hindered his march
with his army.
Who is he, then, that will be impatient
because of God's patience, and judge him
slack in judgment, while the rage of the
wicked prevails a while ? Know that he is
more careful of his own glory than we can
be, and the greater height man's wrath
arises to, the more honour shall arise to him
out of it. Did not his omnipotency shine
brighter in the flames of that furnace into
which the children were cast, than if the
king's wrath had been at first cooled ? Cer-
tainly, the more both it and the furnace had
their heat augmented, the more was God
glorified. Who is that God, (saith he,
blasphemously and proudly,) that can de-
liver you out of my hands ? A question
indeed highly dishonouring the Almighty ;
* Deu» neminem alium, quam seiptmm, sinit da se
mngnifice sentire. HEKODOTUS.
but stay till the real answer co:ne, and not
only shall that wrath praise him, but that
very same tongue, though inured to blas-
phemy, shall be taught to bear a main part
in the confession of these praises. Let that
apostate emperor* go taunting the head and
tormenting the members of that mystical
body, his closing with 'Evtx-na-a.;, raX/Xcws,
Thou hast overcome, O Galilean, (mean-
ing Christ,) shall help to verify that.
Whether its course be shorter or longer,
man's wrath ends always in God's praise.
In like manner, the closing of the lion's
mouths spake louder to his praise that stop-
ped them, than if he had stopped Daniel's
enemies in the beginning of their wicked
designs. So hot was their rage, that the
king's favourable inclination to Daniel, (of
which, in other cases, courtiers used to be
so devout observers,) yea, his contesting and
pleading for him, did profit him nothing ;
but they hurried their king to the execution
of their unjust malice, though themselves
were convinced that nothing could be found
against him, but only concerning the law of
his God. Dan. vi. 14, it is said, " He set
his heart upon him to deliver him, and la-
boured to do it till the going down of the
sun," and then those counsellors and coun-
sels of darkness overcame him. But upon
this black night of their prevailing wrath,
followed immediately a bright morning of
praises to Daniel's God ; when the lions
that were so quiet company all night to
Daniel, made so quick a breakfast of those
accursed courtiers that had maliciously ac-
cused him. Even so let thine enemies pe-
rish, O Lord, and let those that love thee,
be as the sun ivhen he goes forth in his
might.
The other proposition concerns the limit-
ing of this wrath : The remainder of wrath
thou wilt restrain.
To take no notice, for the present, of di-
vers other readings of these words, the sense
of them, as they are here very well rendered,
may be briefly this ; that whereas the wrath
of man to which God gives way, shall praise
him, the rest shall be curbed and bound up,
as the word is ; no more of it shall break
forth than shall contribute to his glory.
Here should be considered divers ways and
means, by which God useth to stop the
heady course of man's wrath, and hinder its
proceeding any further. But only,
Let us take out of it this lesson : " That
the most compendious way to be safe from
the violence of men, is to be in terms of
friendship with God." Is it not an incom-
parable privilege to be in the favour and
under the protection of one whose power is
so transcendent, that no enemy can so much
as stir without his leave ? Be persuaded,
then, Christians, in these clangers that are
SERMON XII.
407
now so near us, every one to draw near to
him ; remove what may provoke him ; let no
reigning sin be found either in your cities
or in your villages, for he is a holy God.
Js it a time to multiply provocations now,
or is it not rather high time to be humbled
for the former ? What shameless impiety is
it, to be now licentious or intemperate ! To
be proud, to oppress, or extort ! To profane
God's day and blaspheme his name ! All
these sins, and many others, abound amongst
us, and that avowedly. Without abundance
of repentance, for these we shall smart, and
the wrath of our enemies, though unjust in
them, shall praise God in our just punish-
ment ; though, doubtless, he will own his
church, and be praised likewise in the final
punishment of their wrath that rise against
it. There is a remarkable expression in
Psalm xcix. 8, of God's dealing with his
people : He was favourable to them, though
he took vengeance on their inventions. A
good cause and a covenant with God, will
not shelter an impenitent people from sharper
correction. It is a sad word God speaks by
his prophet to his own people — / myself,
(says he,) will fiyht against you. A
dreadful enemy ! And none indeed truly
dreadful but he. O prevent his anger, and
you are safe enough. If perverse sinners
will not hear, yet let those that are indeed
Christians mourn in secret, not only for
their own sin, but let them bestow some
tears likewise upon the sins of others. La-
bour to appease the wrath of God, and he
will either appease man's wrath, or, howso-
ever, will turn it jointly to his benefit and
his own glory. Let the fear of the most
high God, who hath no less power over the
strongest of his enemies than over the mean-
est of his servants ; let his fear, I say, possess
all our hearts, and it will certainly expel that
ignoble and base fear of the wrath of man.
See how the prophet opposes them in Isaiah
viii. 12, 13, " Fear not their fear, (says he,)
nor be afraid ; but sanctify the Lord, and let
him be your fear, and let him be your dread ;"
fear not, but fear. This holy fear begets
the best courage ; the breast that is most
filled with it, abounds most in true magna-
nimity. Fear thus, that you may be confi-
dent, not in yourselves, though your policy
and strength were great, (cursed is man
that trusteth in man, and naketh flesh his
arm,) but confident in that God who is too
wise and vigilant to be surprised, too mighty
to ba foiled, and too rich to be out-spent in
provision ; who can suffer his enemy to come
to the highest point of apparent advantage,
without any inconvenience, yea, with more
renown in his conquest. And so a Chris-
tian who is made once sure of this, (as
easily he may,) is little careful about the
rest ; his love to God prevailing over all his
becomes of himself or his dearest friends, so
God may be glorified. What though many
fall in the quarrel, (which God avert ! ) yet
it is sufficient that truth in the end shall be
victorious. Have not the saints in all ages
been content to convey pure religion to pos-
terity, in streams of their own -blood, not of
others ? Well, hold fast by this conclusion,
that God can limit and bind up the most
violent wrath of man, that, though it swell,
it will not break forth. The stiffest heart,
as the current of the most impetuous river,
is in his hand, to appoint its channels, and
turn it as he pleaseth. Yea, it is he that
hath shut up the very sea with bars and
doors, and said, " Hitherto shalt thou come,
and no further : here shall thy proud waves
be stayed," Job xxxviii. 10, 11. To see
the surges of a rough sea come in towards
the shore, a man would think that they were
hastening to swallow up the land ; but they
know their limits, and are beaten back into
foam. Though the waves thereof toss them-
selves as angry at their restraint, yet the
small sand is a check to the great sea ;
" yet can they not prevail ; though they
roar, yet can they not pass over it," says
Jeremiah, v. 22.
The sum is this ; what God permits his
church's enemies to do, is for his own further
glory ; and reserving this, there is not any
wrath of man so great, but he will either
sweetly calm it, or strongly retain it. To
him be praise, &c.
SERMON XII.
PSALSI cxii. 7-
He shall not be afraid of evil tidings ; hit
lieart is Jived, trusting in the Lord.
ALL the special designs of men agree in
this — they seek satisfaction and quietness of
mind, that is happiness. This, then, is the
great question — who is the happy man ? It
is here resolved, ver. 1, " Blessed is the
man that feareth the Lord, that delighteth
in his commandments."
The blessedness is unfolded as a rich
landscape, chat we may view the well-mixed
colours, the story and tissue of it, through
the whole Alphabet, in capital letters ; and
take all and set them together, it is a most
fall, complete blessedness, not a letter want-
ing to it.* Amongst the rest that we have
in these words, is of a greater magnitude
» This Psalm in the Hebrew consists of 22 short
verses, each of which begins with the letters of the
Alphabet, in their order, till they are all ended. No
one letter is here omitted, as is the case in the 25th
affections, makes him very indifferent what I i>salm, where the same order U observed.
408
SERMON XII.
aud brightness than many of the rest — He
shall not be afraid of evil tidings.
Well may it begin with a hallelujah, a
note of praise to him in whom his blessed-
ness lies. 0 what a wretched creature were
man, if not provided to such a portion,
without which is nothing but disappoint-
ment ; and thence the racking torment and
vexation of a disquieted mind, still pursuing
somewhat that he never overtakes !
The first words are the inscription, The
blessedness of that man, &c. So the par-
ticulars follow ; where outward blessings are
so set, as that they look and lead higher,
pointing at their end, the infinite goodness
whence they flow, and whither they return
and carry along with them this happy man.
And these promises of outward things are
often evidently accomplished to the righte-
ous, and their seed after them, and that
commonly after they have been brought
very low. But when it is otherwise with
them they lose nothing. It is good for many,
yea, it is good for all the godly that have
less of these lower things, to raise their eye
to look after higher, the eye of all, both
of these that are hold somewhat short, and
for those that have abundance in the world.
These temporal promises were more a-
bounding and more frequently fulfilled, in
their very kind, in the times of the law ;
yet still the right is constant, and all agss
do give clear examples of the truth of this
word. Where it is thus, it is a blessing
created by its aspect to this promise, and
so differs from the prosperity of ungodly
men ; and where it is otherwise with the
righteous and their seed, it is no shift, but
a most solid comfort, to turn their eyes to a
higher compensation.
But howsoever it go, this still holds — He
shall not be afraid of evil tidings. Not-
withstanding the hardest news that can come
to his ears, of any thing that concerns him-
self or his children, or the rest of God's
children in his charge in the world, his heart
is fixed, trusting in the Lord.
First, let us take a little of the charac-
ter of this blessed man. Who is it that is
thus undaunted ?
God.
The man that feareth
All the passions are but several ebbings
and Sowings of the soul, and their motions
are the signs of its temper. Which way it
is carried, that i» mainly to be remarked by
the beating of its pulse. If our desires,
and hopes, and fears, be in the things of
this world, and the interest of flesh, this is
their temper and disorder, the soul is in a
continual fever : but if they move God wards,
then is it composed and calm, in a good
temper and healthful point, fearing and
loving him, desiring him, and nothing
but him, waiting for him, and trusting in
him. And when any one affection is right,
and in a due aspect to God, all the rest are
so too ; for they are radically one, and he
is the life of that soul that is united to him ;
and so in him it moves in a peculiar spiri-
tual manner, as all do naturally in the de-
pendence of their natural life on him that is
the fountain of life.
Thus we have here this fear of God, as
often elsewhere, set out as the very substance
of holiness and evidence of happiness. And
that we may know there is nothing either
base or grievous in this fear, we have join-
ed with it, delight and trust ; delighteth
greatly in his commandments ; which is
that badge of love to him, to observe them,
and that with delight, and with exceeding
great delight. So, then, the fear is not that
which love casts out, but that which love
brings in. This fear follows and flows from
love, a fear to offend, whereof nothing so
tender as love ; and that, in respect of the
greatness of God, hath in it withal a hum-
ble reverence. There is in all love a kind
of reverence, a cautious and respective wari-
ness towards the party loved ; but especially
in this, where not only we stand in a lower
relation, as children to our Father, but the
goodness that draws our love doth infinitely
transcend our measures and reach, therefore
there is a " rejoicing with trembling, and
an awful love, the fearing of the Lord and
his goodness," Hosea iii. 5. This both fear
and trust, the heart touched by the Spirit
of God, as the needle touched with the load-
stone, looks straight and speedily to God,
yet still with trembling, being filled with
this holy fear.
That delighteth. Oh ! this is not only
to do them, but to do them with delight;
somewhat within is connatural and symbo-
lical ; yea, this very law itself is writ within,
not standing as a hard task-master over our
head, but impressed within as a sweet prin-
ciple in our hearts, and working from thence
naturally. This makes a soul find pleasure
in purging out of sensual pleasures, and ease
in doing violence to corrupt self, even un-
doing it for God, having no will but his ;
the remainders of sin and self in our flesh
will be often rising up, but this predominant
love dispels them. So this fear works with
delight.
And further, that we may know how
serene and sweet a thing it is, it is here
likewise joined with confidence, trusting ; a
quickening confidence always accompanying
it ; and so, undoubtedly, it is a blessed
thing. Blessed is he that feareth. Fear
sounds rather quite contrary, hath an air of
misery ; but add, whom ? He that feareth
the Lord : that touch turns it into gold.
He that so fears, fears not : He shall not
be afraid ; all petty fears are swallowed up
in this great fear, as a spirit inured with
great things is not stirred nor affected at all
SERMON XII.
409
with small matters. And this great fear
is as sweet and pleasing as these little fears
are anxious and vexing. Secure of other
things, he can say, " If my God bs pleas-
ed, no matter who is displeased ; no matter
who despise me, if he account me his ;
though all forsake me, my dearest friends
grow estranged, and look another way, if
he reject me not, that is my only fear ; and
for that I am not perplexed, 1 know he will
not." As they answered Alexander, when
he sent to inquire what they most feared,
thinking possibly they would have said,
Lest he should invade us ; their answer
was, We fear nothing but lest heaven
should fall upon us ; which they did not
fear neither. A believer hath no fear but
of the displeasure of heaven, the anger of
God to fall upon him, he fears that; that is,
accounts that only terrible ; but yet he doth
not fear, doth not apprehend it will fall on
him, is better persuaded of the goodness of
his God. So this fear is still joined with
trust, as here, so often elsewhere, Psalm
xxxiii. 18. xl. 3. and cxlvii. II.
There is no turbulency in this fear ; it is
calm and sweet ; even that most terrible evil,
that which this fear properly apprehends and
flies, sin, yet the fear of that goes not to a
distraction. Though there is little strength,
and many and great enemies, mighty Ana-
xims of temptations from without, and cor-
ruption within, and so good reason for a
noly, humble " fear and self-distrust, yet
this should not beat us off; yea, is most tit
to put us on to trust on him who is our
strength. Courage ! the day shall be ours,
though we may be often foiled and down,
and sometimes almost at a hopeless point,
yet our Head is on high, he hath conquered
for us, and shall conquer in us ; therefore,
upon this confidence, to fear is not to fear ;
" Why should I fear in the days of evil,
when the iniquity of my heels shall compass
me about ?" Ps, xlix. 5, (which I take is
some grievous affliction, and that with a
visage for punishment of sin ; guiltiness is
be read in it, yet not fear). " If I trust
in wealth, and boast myself in the multitude
of riches, then that being in hazard, I must
fear ; leaning on that, it failing, I might
fall. But this is my confidence, ver. 15 —
God will redeem my soul from the power of
the grave ; for he shall receive me ; wealth
cannot, but he can. It buys not a man out
from his hand, bat he buys from the hand
of the grave." So the word is ; for the visi-
ble heavens, even their fall, and the disso-
lution of nature, would not affright a be-
liever, Psalm xli. 1. Sifractus illubatur
orbis, &c.
Alas ! most persons have dull or dim ap-
prehensions and shallow impressions of God,
therefore they have little either of this fear
or this trust. God is not in all their thoughts,
but how to compass this 01 that design ; and
if they miss one, then to another; they are
cast from one wave upon another ; and if at
time they attain their purpose, find it
but wind, a handful of nothing, far from
what they fancied it
Oh ! my brethren, my desire is, that the
faces of your souls were but once turned about,
that they were towards him, looking to him,
continually fearing him, delighting, trusting
in him, making him your all. Can any.
thing so elevate and ennoble the spirit of a
man, as to contemplate and converse with
the pure, ever-blessed spring and Father of
spirits ? Beg that you may know him, that
he would reveal himself to you ; for otherwise
no teaching can make him known. It is to
light candles to seek the sun, to think to at-
tain to this knowledge without his own re-
vealing it. If he hide his face, who then
may behold him ? Pray for this quickening
knowledge, such a knowledge as will effec-
tually work this happy fear and trust.
V'ou that have attained any thing of it,
desire and follow on to know the Lord, par-
ticularly so as your hearts may repose on him;
so fear, as you may not fear. He would
have your spirits calm and quiet, for when
they are in a hurry and confusion, they are
then fit for nothing ; all within makes a jar-
ring, unpleasant noise, as of an instrument
quite out of tune.
This fear of God is not, you ses , a per-
plexing doubting, and distrust of his love.
Many that have some truth of grace are,
through weakness, filled with disquieting
fears ; so, possibly, though they perceive it
not, it may be in some point of wilfulness,
a little latent, undiscerned affectation of
scrupling and doubting, placing much of
religion in it. True, where the soul is really
solicitous about its interest in God, that
argues some grace ; but being vexingly
anxious about it, it argues that grace is low
and weak : s sparkle there is even discover-
ed by that smoke ; but the great smoke still
continuing, and nothing seen but it, argues
there is little fire, little faith, little love.
And this, as it is unpleasant to thyself, so
to God, as smoke to the eyes. What if
one should be always questioning with his
friend, whether he loved him or no, and
upon every little occasion were ready to think
he doth not, how would this disrelish their
society together, though truly loving each
other ! The far more excellent way, and
more pleasing both to ourselves and to God,
were to r. solve on humble trust, reverence
and confidence, most afraid to offend, de-
lighting to walk in his ways, loving him
and his will in all, and then resting per-
suaded of his love, though he chastise us ;
and even, though we offend him, and see
our offences in. our chastisements, yet h?
is good, plenteous in redemption, ready to
410
SERMON XII.
forgive. Therefore let Israel trust and hope ;
let my soul roll itself on him, and adventure
there all its weight ; he bears greater matters,
upholding the frame of heaven and earth,
and is not troubled nor burdened with it.
The heart of a man is not sufficient for
self-support, therefore naturally it seeks out
some other thing to lean and rest itself on.
The unhappiness is, for the most part, that
it seeks to things below itself: these being
both so mean and so uncertain, cannot be a
firm and certain stay to it. These things
are not fixed themselves, how can they then
fix the heart ? Can a man have firm foot-
ing on a quagmire, or moving sands *
Therefore men are forced in these things
still to shift their seat, and seek about from
one to another, still rolling and unsettled.
The believer only hath this advantage ; he
hath a rest high enough and sure enough,
out of the reach of all hazards — His heart
is fixed, trusting in the Lord.
The basis of this happiness is, He trust-
elk on the Lord. So the heart is fixed ; and
so fixed, it fears no ill-tidings.
The trust is grounded on the word of God,
revealing the power and all-sufficiency of
God, and withal, his goodness, his offer of
himselt to be the stay of souls, commanding
us to rest on him. People wait on I know
not what persuasions and assurances ; but I
know no other to build faith on but the word
of promise, the truth and faithfulness of
God opened up, his wisdom, and power, and
goodness, as the stay of all these, that, re-
nouncing all other props, will venture on it
and lay all upon him. He that believes,
sets to his seal that God is true ; and so he
is sealed for God, his portion and interest
secured. Isa. vii. 0, " If ye will not be-
lieve, surely ye shall not be established."
This is the way to have peace and assur-
ance, which many look for first, " Thou
wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind
is stayed on thee, because he trusteth in
thee," Isa. xxvi. 3.
fixed by trusting.
So, here, the heart is
Seek then clearer apprehensions of the
faithfulness and goodness of God, hearts
more enlarged in the notion of free grace,
and the absolute trust due to it ; thus shall
they be more established and fixed in all the
rollings and changes of the world.
Heart fixed: or prepared, ready, pressed
and in amis for all services ; resolved not to
give back, able to meet all adventures, and
stand its ground. God is unchangeable ;
and, therefore, faith is invincible, that sets
the heart on him ; fastens it there on the
rock of eternity ; then let winds blow and
storms arise, it cares not.
The firm and close cleaving unto God
hath in it of the affection, which is insepar-
able from this trust — love with faith ; and
«o a hatred of all ways and thoughts that
alienate and estrange from God, that remove
and unsettle the heart. The holiest, wa-
riest heart, is surely the most believing and
fixed heart : if a believer will adventure on
any one way of sin, he shall find that will
unfix him, and shake his confidence, more
than ten thousand hazards and assaults
from without. These are so far from mov-
ing, that they settle and fix the heart com-
monly more, cause it to cleave closer
and nearer unto God ; but sinful liberty
breeds inquiet, and disturbs all. Where
sin is, there will be a storm ; the wind
within the bowels of the earth makes the earth-
quake.
Would you be quiet and have peace within
in troublous times, keep near unto God, be-
ware of any (hing that may interpose betwixt
you and your confidence. It is good for me
(says the Psalmist) to be near God ; not
only to draw near, but to keep near, to cleave
to him, and dwell in him : so the word.
Oh, the sweet calm of such a soul amidst all
storms ; thus once trusting and fixed, then
no more fear, not afraid of evil tidings, nor
of any ill-hearing ! Whatsoever sound is
terrible in the ears of men, the noise of war,
news of death, even the sound of the trumpet
in the last judgment, he hears all this undis-
quieted.
Nothing is unexpected, being once fixed
on God ; then the heart may put cases to it-
self, and suppose all things imaginable, the
most terrible, and look for them ; not troubled
before trouble with dark and dismal appre-
hensions, but satisfied in a quiet, unmoved
expectation of the hardest things. What-
soever it is, though particularly not thought
on before, yet the heart is not afraid of
the news of it, because fixed, trusting on
(he Lord ; nothing can shake that founda-
tion, nor dissolve that union, therefore no
fear. Yea, this assurance stays the heart in
all things, how strange and unforeseen soever
to it — " All foreseen to my God, on whom I
trust, yea, fore-contrived and ordered by
him." This is the impregnable fort of a
soul — " All is at the disposal and command
of my God ; my Father rules all, what need
I fear ?"
Every one trusts to somewhat : as for
honour, and esteem, and popularity, they are
airy, vain things ; but riches seem a more
solid work and fence, yet they are but a
tower in conceit, not really. Prov. xviii.
11. "The rich man's wealth is his strong
city, and as a high wall in his own conceit ;"
but " the name of the Lord is a strong tower
indeed," ver. 1 0. This is the thing all seek —
some fence and fixing. Here it is we call
you not to vexation and turmoil, but from it;
and as St. Paul said, Acts xvii. 23, •' Whom
ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto
you." Ye blindly and fruitlessly seek after
the show. The true aiming at this fixed-
SERMON XII.
411
fless of mind will make that ; though they
fall short, yet by the way they will light on
very pretty things that have some virtue in
them, as they that seek the philosopher's
stone : but the believer hath the thing, the
secret itself of tranquillity and joy, and this
turns all into gold, their iron chains into a
crown of gold, 2 Cor. iv. 17, 18.
This is the blessed and safe estate of be-
lievers. Who can think they have a sad,
heavy life ? Oh ! it is the only lightsome,
sweet, cheerful condition in the world. The
rest of men are poor, rolling, unstayed things,
every report shaking them, as the leaves of
the trees are shaken with the wind, Isa. vii.
2 ; yea, lighter than so, as the chaff that the
wind drives to and fro at its pleasure, Psalm
i. 4. Would men but reflect and look in
upon their own hearts, it is a wonder what
vain, childish things the most would find
there. Glad and sorry at things as light as
the toys of children, at which they laugh and
cry in a breath. How easily puffed up with
a thing or word that pleaseth us ! Bladder-
like, swelled with a little air, and it shrinks
in again in discouragements and fear upon
the touch of a needle's point, which gives
that air some vent.
What is the life of the greatest part but a
continual tossing betwixt vain hopes and
fears — all their days spent in these ? Oh !
oow vain a thing is a man even in his best
estate, while he is nothing but himself!
His heart not united and fixed on God, dis-
quieted in vain, how small a thing will do
it ! He need no other but his own heart, it
may prove disquietment enough to itself; his
thoughts are his tormentors.
I know some men are, by a stronger un-
derstanding and moral principle, somewhat
raised above the vulgar, and speak big of a
constancy of mind ; but these are but flou-
rishes, an acted bravery. Somewhat there
may be that will hold out in some trials, but
far short of this fixedness of faith. Troubles
may so multiply, as to drive them at length
from their posture, and come on so thick,
with such violent blows, as will smite them
out of their artificial guard, disorder all their
Seneca and Epictetus, and all their own calm
thoughts and high resolves : the approach
of death, though they make a good mien, and
set the best face on it ; or if not, yet some
kind of terror may seize on their spirits,
which they are not able to shift off. But
the soul trusting on God is prepared for all,
not only for the calamities of war, pestilence,
famine, poverty, or death, but in the saddest
apprehensions of soul ; above hope, believes
under hope, even in the darkest night, casts
anchor in God, reposes on him when he sees
no light, Isa. 1. 10. " Yea, though he slay
me, (says Job ) yet will I trust in him ;" not
only though I die, but though he slay me ;
when I see his hand lift up to destroy me,
yet from that same hand will I look for sal-
Tattoo.
My brethren, my desire is to stir in your
hearts an ambition after this blest estate of
the godly that fear the Lord, and trust on
him, and so fear no other thing. The com-
mon revolutions and changes of the world,
and those that in these late times we our-
selves have seen, and the likelihood of more
and greater coming on, seem dreadful to weak
minds. But let these persuade us the more
to prize and seek this fixed, unaffrighted sta-
tion ; no fixing but here, where we make a
virtue of a necessity.
Oh ! that you would be persuaded to
break off from the vile ways of sin, that em-
base the soul and fill it full of terrors, and
disengage them from the vanities of this
world to take up in God, to live in him
wholly, to cleave to, and depend on him, to
esteem nothing besides him. Excellent was
the answer of that holy man to the emperor,
first essaying him with large proffers of
honour and riches, to draw him from Christ.
Offer these things (says he) to children, 1
regard them not. Then, after he tried to
terrify him with threatening, — Thi eaten.
(says he) your effeminate courtiers ; I fear
none of these things.
Seek to have your hearts established on
him by the faith of eternal life, and then it
will be ashamed to distrust him in any other
thing. Yea, truly, you will not much re-
gard, nor be careful for other things how they
be. It will be all one, the better and worse
of this moment ; the things of it, even thu
j-reatest, being both in themselves so little
and worthless, and of so short continuance.
Well, choose you ; but all reckoned and
examined, 1 had rather be the poorest believer
than the greatest king on earth. How small
a commotion, small in its beginning, may
prove the overturning of the greatest kingdom !
But the believer is heir to a kingdom that
cannot be shaken. The mightiest and most
victorious prince, that hath not only lost no-
thing, but hath been gaining new conquests
all his days, is stopped by a small distemper
in the middle of his course : he returns to
his dust, then his vast designs fall to nothing;
in that very day his thoiiff/its perish. But
the believer, in that very day, is sent to the
possession of his crown ; that is his corona-
tion-day ; all his thoughts are accomplished.
How can you affright him ? Bring him
word his estate is ruined ; Yet my inheri-
tance is safe, says he. Your wife, or child,
or dear friend, is dead ; Yet my Father
lives. You yourself must die ; Well then,
I go home to my Father, and to my inheri-
tance.
For the public troubles of the church,
doubtless it is both a most pious and gene-
rous temper, to be more deeply affected for
these than foi all our private ones ; and to
412
SERMON XIII.
resent common calamities of any people, but
especially of God's own people, hath been
the character of men near unto him. Ob-
serve the pathetical strains of the prophets'
bewailing, when they foretell the desolation
even of foreign kingdoms, much more for the
Lord's chosen people, still mindful of Sion,
and mournful for her distresses, Jer. ix. 1,
and the whole book of Lamentations. Psalm
cxxxvii. 5. // I forget thee, O Jerusalem
Pious spirits are always public, as even brave
Heathens for the commonwealth. So he, in
that of Horace, * Little regnrding himself,
but much solicitous for the public. Yet
even in this, with much compassion, there i
a calm in a believer's mind ; (how these
agree, none can tell but they that feel it ;) he
finds amidst all hard news, yet still a fixed
heart, trusting, satisfied in this, that deliver-
ance shall come in due time. (Psalm cii
13,) and that in those judgments that are in-
flicted, man shall be humbled and God ex-
alted, Isa. ii. 11, and v. 15, 16; and that
in all tumults and changes, and subversion
of states, still his throne is fixed, and with
that the believer's heart likewise, Psalm
xciii. 2. So Psalm xxix. 10. " The Lord
sitteth upon the flood : yea, the Lord sitteth
King forever." Or, sat in the flood, possi-
bly referring to the general deluge ; yet that
then God -at quiet, and still sitteth King for
ever. He steered the ark, and still guides
the church through all. So Psalm xlvi.,
throughout that whole psalm. In all com-
motions the kingdom of Christ shall be
spreading and growing, and the close of all
shall be full victory on his side, and that is
sufficient.
Of this, a singular example is in Job, who
was not daunted with so many ill-hearings,
but stood as an unmoved rock amidst the
winds and waves. •(•
In this condition there is so much sweet-
ness, that, if known, a man might suspect
himself rather selfishly taken with than pure-
ly loving God. Such joy in believing, or
at least, such peace, such a serene calmness,
is in no other thing in this world. Nothing
without or within a man to be named to this
of trusting on his goodness ; he is God, and
on his faithfulness, giving his promise for
thy warrant. He commands thee to roll thy-
self on him. The holy soul still trusts in
the darkest apprehensions. If it is suggest-
ed, thou art a reprobate, yet will the soul
say, " I will see the utmost, and hang by
the hold I have, till I feel myself really cast
off, and will not willingly fall off. If I must
be separated from him, he shall do it him-
self; he shall shake me off while I would
cleave to him. Yea, to the utmost I will
* Invenit intomni volventem publica cura
Fata virum, casusque urbii, cunctuque timentem
Seftirumqtie sui.
t li'.e vclut rapes immota manebat.
look for mercy, and will hope better ; though
I found him shaking me off, yet will I think
ne will not do it." It is good to seek after
all possible assurance, but not to fret at the
want of it ; for even without these assurances,
which some Christians hang too much upon,
there is in simple trust and reliance on God,
and in a desire to walk in his ways, such a
fort of peace, as all the assaults in the world
are not able to make a breach in ; and to this
add that unspeakable delight in walking in
his fear, joined with this trust. The noble
ambition of pleasing him makes one careless
of pleasing or displeasing all the world. Be-
sides, the delight in his commandments, so
pure, so just a law, holiness, victory over lusts,
and temperance, hath a sweetness in it that
presently pays itself, because his will.
It is the godly man alone, who, by this
fixed consideration in God, looks the grim
visage of death in the face with an unappall.
ed mind ; it damps all the joys, and defeats
all die hopes of the most prosperous, proud-
est, and wisest worldling. As Archimedes
said, when shot, Avocasti ab optima demon*
stratione. It spoils all their figures and fine
devices. But to the righteous there is hope
in his death : he goes through it without fear,
without Caligula's Quo vadis ? Though
riches, honours, and all the glories of this
world, are with a man, yet he fears, yea, h(
fears the more for these, because here they
must end. But the good man looks death
out of countenance, in the words of David,
Though I walk through the valley and sha-
dow of death, yet will I fear no evil, for
thou art with me.
SERMON XIII.
MATT. xiii. 3.
And he spake many things unto them tn
parables, saying, Behold, a sower went
forth to sow, &c.
THE rich bounty of God hath furnished
our natural life, not barely for strict necessity,
but with great abundance ; many kinds of
beasts, and fowls, and fishes, and herbs, and
fruits, lias he provided for the use of man.
Thus our spiritual life likewise is supported
with a variety ; the word, the food of it, ha.h
not only all necessary truths once simply set
down, but a great variety of doctrine, for our
more abundant instruction and consolation.
Amongst the rest, this way of similitudes
hath a notable commixture of profit and de-
light.
Parables, not unfolded and understood,
are a veil (as here) to the multitude, and in
that are a great judgment, as Isa. vi. 9, cited
SERMON XIII.
413
here ; but when cleared and made trans-
parent, then they are a glass to behold divine
things in, more commodiously and suitably
to our way. All things are big with such
resemblances, but they require the dexterous
hand of an active spirit to bring them forth.
This way, besides other advantages, is much
graced and commended by our Saviour's fre-
quent use of it.
That here is fitted to the occasion ; mul-
titudes coming to hear him, and many not a
whit the better. He instructs us in this point
— the great difference between the different
hearts of men ; so that the same word hath
very different success in them.
In this parable we shall consider these three
things : (1.) The nature of the world in it-
self. (2.) The sameness and commonness of
the dispensation. (3.) The difference of the
operation and production.
The word seed hath in it a productive vir-
tue to bring forth fruit according to its kind,
that is, the fruit of a new life ; not only a
new habitude and fashion of life without, but
a new nature, a new Kind of life within, new
thoughts, a new estimate of things, new de-
lights and actions. When the word reveals
God, his greatness and holiness, then it be-
gets pious fear and reverence, and study
of conformity to him ; when it reveals his
goodness and mercy, it works love and con-
fidence ; when it holds up in our view Christ
crucified, it crucifies the soul to the world,
and the world to it ; when it represents these
rich things laid up for us, that blest inherit-
ance of the saints, then it makes all the lus-
tre of this world vanish, shews how poor it is,
weans and calls off the heart from them, rais.
ing it to these higher hopes, and sets it on the
project of a crown ; and so is a seed of noble
thoughts, and of a suitable behaviour in a
Christian, as in the exposition of this parable,
it is called the word of the kingdom.
Seed, an immortal seed, as St. Peter calls
it, springing up to no less than an eternal life.
This teaches us, 1. Highly to esteem the
great goodness of God to those places and
times that were most blessed with it, Psalm
cxlvii. 19, 20. " He sheweth his word unto
Jacob, his statutes and his judgments unto
Israel ; he hath not dealt so with any nation,
and as for his judgments, theyhave not known
them."
2. That the same dispensation is to be
preached indifferently to all where it comes,
as far as the sound can reach : and thus it
was very much extended in the first promul-
gating of the gospel ; their sound, went out.
through all the earth, as the apostle allusive-
ly applies that of the Psalmist.
3. This teaches also ministers liberally to
sow this seed at all times, according to that,
Eccles. xi. 6, " In the morning sow thy
seed, and in the evening withhold not thine
Viand," &c., praying earnestly to him that is
the Lord not only of the harvest, but of the
seed-time, and of this seed to make it fruit-
ful ; this is his peculiar work. So the apos-
tle acknowledges, 1 Cor. iii. 6. "I have
planted, Apollos watered, but God gav; the
increase."
4. Hence we also learn the success to be
very different. This is most evident in men :
one cast into the mould and fashion of the
word, and so moulded and fashioned by it ;
another no whit changed ; one heart melting
before it, another still hardened under it.
So, then, this is not all, to have the word
and hear it, as if that would serve turn and
save us, as we commonly fancy — the temple
of the Lord, the temple of the Lord. Mul-
titudes under the continual sound of the word,
yet remain lifeless and fruitless, and die in
their sins ; therefore we must inquire and
examine strictly, what becomes of it, how it
works, what it brings forth ; and for this
very end this parable declares so many are
fruitless. We need not press them ; they
are three to one here ; yea, that were too nar-
row, the odds is far greater, for these are the
kinds of unfruitful grounds, and under each
of these huge multitudes of individuals, so
that there may be a hundred to one, and it
is to be feared, in many congregations, it is
more than so.
Whence is then the difference ? Not from
the seed, that is the same to all ; not from
the sower neither, for though these be divers,
and of different abilities, yet it hangs little
or nothing on that. Indeed, he is the fittest
to preach, that is himself most like his mes-
sage, and comes forth not only with a hand-
ful of this seed in his hand, but with store
f it in his heart, the word dwelling richly
in him ; yet, howsoever, the seed he sows,
being this word of life, depends not on his
qualifications in any kind, either of common
gifts, or special grace. People mistake this
much, and it is a carnal conceit to hang on
the advantages of the minister, or to eye that
much. The sure way is to look up to God,
and to look into thine own heart. An un-
changed, unsoftened heart, as an evil soil,
disappoints the fruit. What though sown by
a weak hand. yea. possibly a foul one, yet if
received in a clean and honest heart, it will
fructify nuich. There is in the world a need-
less and prejudicial differencing of men, out
of which people will not come for all we can
say.
The first bad ground is a highway. Now
we have a commentary here, whence we may
not, nor will not depart ; it is authentic and
full. Ver. 19 : they that understand not.
Gross, brutish spirits, that perceive not
what is said, .are as if they were not there,
sit like blocks, one log of wood upon an-
other, as he said. " This is our brutish
multitude. What pity is it to see so many,
* Lapis mper lapidem in theatrn.
414
SERMON XIII.
such as have not so much as a natural ap-
prehension of spiritual truths — The com-
mon road of all passengers, of all kind of
foolish, brutish thoughts, seeking nothing
but how to live, and yet know not to what
end, have no design ; trivial, highway hearts,
all temptations pass at their pleasure, pro-
fane as Esau, which some critics draw from
a word signifying the threshold, the outer
step that every foul foot treads on.
These retain nothing, there is no hazard
of that ; and yet the enemy of souls, to
make all sure, lest peradventure some word
might take root unawares, some grain of this
seed, he is busy to pick it away ; to take
them off from all reflection, all serious
thoughts, or the remembrance of any thing
spoken to them. And if any common word
is remembered, yet it doth no good, for that
is trodden down as the rest, though the
most is picked up, because it lies on the
road. So expressed by St. Mark, iv. 4.
The second is stony ground. Hard hearts,
not softened and made penetrable, to receive
in deeply this ingrafted word with meek-
ness, with humble yieldance and submis-
sion to it — the rocks. Yet in these there is
often some receiving of it, and a little slen-
der moisture above them, which the warm
air may make spring up a little ; they re-
ceive with joy, have a little present delight
in it, are moved and taken with the sermon,
possibly to the shedding of some tears ; but
the misery is, there is a want of depth of
earth — it sinks not.
No wonder if there is some present de-
light in these ; therefore the word of the
kingdom, especially if skilfully and sensibly
delivered by some more able speaker, pleases,
Let it be but a fancy, yet it is a fine, plea-
sant one : such a love as the Son of God to
die for sinners ; such a rich purchase made
as a kingdom ; such glory and sweetness !
Therefore the description of the new Jeru-
salem, Apoc. xxi., suppose it but a dream,
or one of the visions of the night, yet it is
passing fine ; it must needs please a mind
that heeds what is said of it. There is a
natural delight in spiritual things, and thus
the word of the prophet, as the Lord tells
him, was as a minstrel's voice, a fine song
so long as it lasts, but dies out in the air ;
it may be, the relish and air of it will re-
main a while in the imagination, but not
long; even that wears out, and is forgot.
So here it is heard with joy, and some h
springing up presently : they commend it,
and it may be, repeat some passages, yea,
possibly desire to be like it, to have such
and such graces as are recommended, and
upon that think they have them, are pre-
sently good Christians in their own conceit,
and to appearance some change is wrought
and it appears to be all that it is. But it is
not de enough, they talk possibly too
much, more than those whose hearts receive
it more deeply ; there it lies hid longer, and
little is heard of it. Others may think it is
lost, and possibly themselves do not perceive
that it is there ; they are exercised and
humbled at it, and find no good in their
own hearts ; yet there it is hid, as David
says, Thy word have I hid in my heart ;
and as seed in a manner dies in a silent,
smothering way, yet is in order to the fruc-
tifying and to the reviving of it, it will spring
up in time, and be fruitful in its season,
witli patience, as St. Luke hath it of the
good ground ; not so suddenly, but much
more surely and solidly.
But the most are present, mushroom
Christians — soon ripe, soon rotten : the seed
grows never deep ; it springs up indeed, but
any thing blasts and withers it. Little root
in some, if trials arise, either the heat of
persecution without, or a temptation within ;
this sudden spring-seed can stand before
neither.
Oh, rocky hearts ! How shallow, shallow,
are the impressions of divine things upon
you ! Religion goes never farther than the
upper surface of your hearts ; few deep
thoughts of God, and of Jesus Christ, and
the things of the world to come ; all are but
slight and transient glances.
The third is thorny ground. This re-
lates to the cares, pleasures, and all the in-
terests of this life, see St. Mark iv. 1, and
St. Luke viii. 5. All these together are
thorns, and these grow in hearts that do
more deeply receive the seed, and send it
forth, and spring up more hopefully than
either of the other two, and yet choak it.
Oh ! the pity.
Many are thus almost in heaven, so much
desire of renovation, and some endeavours
after it, and yet the thorns prevail. Mise-
rable thorns ! The base things of a perish,
ing life drawing away the strength of affec-
tion, sucking the sap of the soul. Our other
seed and harvest, our corn and hay, our
shops and ships, our tradings and bargains,
our suits and pretensions for places and em-
ployments of gain or credit ; husband, and
wife, and children, and house, and train ;
our feastings and entertainments, and other
pleasures of sense, our civilities and compli-
ments ; and a world of those in all the world
are these thorns, and they overspread all.
" The Inst of the eye, the lust of the flesh,
and the pride of life."
And for how long is all the advantage and
delight of these ? Alas ! that so poor things
should prejudice us of the rich and blessed
increase of this divine seed.
The last is good ground, a good and honest
heart ; not much fineness here, not many
questions and disputes, but honest simplicity,
sweet sincerity, that is all ; a humble single
desire to eye and to do the will of God, and
SERMON XIII.
415
this from love to himself. This makes the
soul abound in the fruits of holiness, receiv-
ing the word as the ground of it : different
degrees there are indeed, some thirty, some
sixty, and some a hundred fold, yet the low-
est aiming at the highest, not resting satis-
fied ; yet growing more fruitful — if thirty last
year, desiring to bring forth sixty this.
This is the great point, we ought to ex-
amine it; for much is sown and little brought
forth. Our God hath done much for us,
(what more could be done ?) yet when grapes
were expected, wild grapes are produced.
What becomes of all ? Who grow to be
more spiritual, more humble and meek, more
like Christ, more self-denying, fuller of love
to God, and one to another ? Some ; but,
alas, few. All the land is sown, and that
plentifully, with the good seed : but what
comes for the most part ? Cockle and no
grain. Infelix lolium.
We would do all other things to purpose,
and not willingly lose our end ; not trade
and gain nothing ; buy and sell and live by
the loss ; not plough and sow, and reap
nothing. How sensibly do we feel one ill
year ! And shall this alone be lost labour,
that, well improved, were worth all the rest ?
Oh ! how much more worth than all ! Shall
we only do the greatest business to the least
purpose ? Bethink yourselves, what do we
here ? Why come we here ? That word,
Thou fool, this night shall they fetch away
thy soul, how terrible will it be !
We think we are wise in not losing our
labour in other things. Why, it is all lost,
even where most vexation of spirit is the total
sum. And in all our projecting and bust-
ling, what do we but sow the wind, and reap
the whirlwind ; sow vanity, and reap vex-
ation ?
This seed alone being fruitful, makes rich
and happy, springs up to eternal life. Oh
that we were wise, and that we would at
length learn to hear every sermon as on the
utmost edge of time, at the very brink ol
eternity ! For any thing we know for our-
selves, of any of us it may be really so ;
however, it is wise and safe to do as if i
were so. Will you be persuaded of this ?
It were a happy sermon if it could prevail
for the more fruitful hearing of all the res
henceforward. We have lost too much o
our little time ; and thus, with the apostle
1 beseech you, I beseech you, receive no
the grace of God in vain.
Now, that you may be fruitful, examin
well your own hearts, pluck up, weed out
for there are still thorns. Some will grow
but he is the happiest man that hath th
sharpest eye and the busiest hand, spying
them out, and plucking them up. Tak
heed how you hear ; think it not so easy
matter. " Plough up, and sow not amonj,
thorns," Jer. iv. 3.
And above all, pray, pray before, after,
nd in hearing. Dart up desires to God,
e is the Lord of the harvest, whose influence
oth all. The difference of the soil makes
ndeed the difference of success, but the
ord hath the privilege of bettering the soil.
le that framed the heart, changes it when
and how he will. There is a curse on all
grounds naturally, that fell on the earth for
man's sake, but fell more on the ground
f man's own heart within him : Thorns
and briars shall thou bring forth. Now,
t is he that denounced that curse, that alone
lath power to remove it ; he is both the
sovereign owner of the seed, and changer of
he soil, turns a wilderness into Carmel by
lis Spirit ; and no ground, no heart, can be
good till he change it.
And being changed, much care must be
lad still of manuring, for still that is in it,
hat will bring forth many weeds, is a mo-
ther to them, and but a step-mother to this
seed. Therefore,
Consider it, if you think this concerns
rou : he that hath an ear to hear, as our
Saviour closes, let him hear. The Lord ap-
your hearts to this work : and though
discouragements arise without, or within,
and little present fruit appear, but corruption
is rather stronger and greater, yet watch and
pray ; wait on, it shall be better ; this fruit
is to be brought forth with patience, as St.
Luke hath it. And this seed, this word,
the Lord calls • by that very name, the very
word of his patience. Keep it, hide it in
thy heart, and -in due time 4t shall spring
up. And this patience shall be put to it but
for a little while ; the day of harvest is at
band, when all in any measure fruitful in
grace shall be gathered into glory.
SERMON XIV.
2 COR. vii. 1.
Having therefore these promises, (dearly
beloved, J let us cleanse ourselves from all
Jillhiness of the flesh and spirit, perfect'
ing holiness in the fear of God.
IT is a thing both of unspeakahle sweet,
ness and usefulness for a Christian, often to
consider the excellency of that estate to which
he is called. It cannot fail to put him upon
very high resolutions, and carry him on io
the divine ambition of behaving daily more
suitably to his high calling and hopes. There,
fore these are often set before Christians in the
scripture, and are pressed here by the apostle
upon a particular occasion of the avoidance
of near combin3inents with unbelievers. He
mentions some choice promises that GoJ
41G
SERMON XIV
makes to his own people, and of their near 'fear and trembling, i. e. in the mote hum.
relation to, and communion with himself,! ble obedience to God, and dependence on him.
and upon these he enlarges, and raises the
exhortation to the universal endeavour of all
holiness, and that as aiming at the very top
and high degree of it.
In the words are, 1. The thing to which
he would persuade. 2. The motive. The
thing — holiness in its full extension and
intension ; " purging ourselves from all fil-
thiness of the flesh and spirit, aud perfecting
holiness in the fear of God "
The purging out of filthiness, and perfect-
ing holiness, express those two parts of re-
newing grace, mortification nnd vivification,
as usually they are distinguished. But I
conceive they are not so truly different parts,
as a different notion of the same thing ; the
decrease of sin and increase of grace heing
truly one thing, as the dispelling of darkness
and augmenting of light. So here the one
is> rendered, as the necessary result, yea, as
the equivalent of the other ; the same thing
indeed ; purging from filthiness, and in so
doing perfecting holiness ; perfecting holi-
ness, and in so doing purging from filthi-
ness : that perfection, by which is meant a
growing, progressive advance towards per-
fection.
The words, without straining, give us as
it were the several dimensions of holiness
the breadth, purging all filthiness; the length,
parallel to man's composure, running all
along through his soul and body, — purging
filthiness of the flesh and spirit ; the height,
perfecting holiness ; the depth, that which
is the bottom whence it rises up, — a dsep
impress of the fear of God. Perfecting holi-
ness in the fear of God.
Cleanse ourselves. It is the Lord that
is the sanctifier of his people, \\epurges away
their dross and tin, he pours clean water,
according to his promises, yet doth he call
us to cleanse ourselves ; even having such
promises, let us cleanse ourselves. He puts
a new life into us, and causes us to act, and
excites us to excite it, and call it up to act
in the progress of sanctification. Men are
strangely inclined to a perverse construction
of things : tell them that we are to act and
work, and give diligence, then they would
fancy a doing in their own strength, and be
their own saviours. Again, tell them that
God works all our works in us, and for us,
then they would take the ease of doing
nothing ; if they cannot have the praise of
doing all, they will sit still with folded hands,
and use no diligence at all. But this is the
corrupt logic of the flesh, its base sophistry.
both to
The apostle reasons just contrary, ]
13. " It is God that worketh in us,
will and to do." Therefore, would a car-
nal heart say, we need not work, or at least,
may work very carelessly. But he infers,
Therefore let tit work out our salvation with
not obstructing the influences of his grace,
and, by sloth and negligence, provoking him
to withdraw or abate it. Certainly many in
whom there is truth of grace, are kept low
n the growth of it, by their own slothfulness,
sitting still, and not bestirring themselves,
and exercising the proper actions of that spi-
ritual life, by which it is entertained and ad-
vanced.
From all fillhiness. All kind of sinful
pollutions. Not as men commonly do re-
form some things, and take to themselves
dispensation in others, at least in some one
peculiar sin — their mistress and their Hero-
dias, their Delilah : no parting with that; yea,
they rather forego many other things, as a
kind of composition for the retaining of that.
Of flesh and spirit. The whole man
must be purified and consecrated to God ;
not only refined from the gross outward acts
of sin, but from the inward affection to it,
and motions of it, that so the heart go not
after it, (Psalm cxxxi.,) which, under re-
straints of outward committing sin, it may
do, and very often does. As the Israelites
lusted after the flesh pots, their hearts re-
mained in Egypt still, though their bodies
were brought out. This is then to be done,
viz. affection to sin to be purged out. Thai
is, to cleanse the ground ; not only to lop ofl
the branches, but to dig about, and looser
and pluck up the root : though still fibres oi
it will stick, yet we ought still to be finding
them out, and plucking them up.
Further, These not only of the inner part
of all sins, but of some sins that are most ci
wholly inward, that hang not so much on the
body, nor are acted by it, those filthinesses
of the spirit that are less discerned than
those of the flesh ; and as more hardly dis-
cerned, so when discerned, more hardly purg-
ed out — pride, self-love, unbelief, curiosity,
&c. which, though more retired and refined
sins, yet are pollutions and defilements, yea
of the worst sort, as being more spiritual, are
filthiness of the spirit. Fleshly pollutions are
things of which the devils are not capable in
themselves, though they excite men to them,
and so they are called unclean spirits. But the
highest rank of sins, are those that are proper-
ly spiritual wickednesses. These in men are
the chief strengths of Satan, the inner works
of these forts and strong holds, $5 Cor. x. 4.
Many that are not much tempted to the
common gross sensualities, have possibly
(though an inclination to them, yet) a kind
of disdain ; and, through education, and
morality, and strength of reason, with some-
what of natural conscience, are carried above
them ; who yet have many of these heights,
those lofty imaginations that rise against
God, and the obedience of Christ, all which
mupt be demolished.
SERMON XIV
417
Perfecting holiness. Not content with
low measures, so much as keeps from hell,
bu>. aspiring towards perfection ; aiming high
at sel '-victory, self-denial, and the love of
God, purer and hotter, as a fire growing and
flaming up, and consuming the earth.
Though men fall short of their aim, yet it
is good to aim high ; they shall shoot so
much the higher, though not full so high as
they aim. Thus we ought to be setting the
state of perfection in our eye, resolving not
to rest content below that, and to come as
near it as we can, even before we come at it,
Phil. iii. 11, 12. This is to act as one that
hath such hope, such a state in view, and is
still advancing towards it.
In the fear of God. No working but on
firm ground, no solid endeavours in holiness
•where it is not founded in a deep heart, a
reverence of God, a desire to please him and
to be like him, which springs from love.
This most men are either strangers to whol-
ly, or but slight and shallow in it, and there-
fore make so little true progress in holiness.
Then there is the motive — having these
promises ; being called to so fair an estate,
so excellent a condition, to be the people,
yea, the sons and daughters of God. There-
fore they are called to the coming forth from
Babel, and the separating themselves from
sin, and purging it out. Holiness is his
image in his children; the more of it, the
more suitable to that blessed relation and
dignity, and the firmer are the hopes of the
inheritance of glory.
Consider sin as a iilthiness, hate it.
Oh,
' how ugly and vile is lust, how deformed is
I swelling pride ! And all sin is an aversion
from God, a casting the noble soul into the
mire, the defacing all its beauty. Turning
[to present things, it pollutes itself with them,
that he who was clad in scarlet embraces
the dunghill, as Jeremiah in another sense
i laments.
Purity of things is an unmixture and
i simplicity corresponding with their ownbeing;
j and so is the soul when elevated above the
earth and sense, and united unto God, con-
I templating him, and delighting in him : al]
I inordinate bent to the creatures, or to itself,
I (which is the first and main disorder,) doth
defile and debase it ; and the more it is sub-
limed and freed from itself, the purer anc
I more heavenly it grows, and partakes the
[more of God, and resembles him the more.
This, then, should be our main study
[first to search out our iniquities, the particu-
llar defilements of our nature ; not only gross
Ifilthiness, drunkenness, lasciviousness, &c.
Ibut our love of this earth, or of air or vanit;
lof mind, our self-will and self-seeking
•Most, even of Christians, are short-sightec
lin their own secret evils, the filthiness of
1 spirit especially, and use little diligence in
Ithis inquiry They do not seek light from • are perfected together. 2
od to go in before him, and to lead them
nto themselves, as the prophet had in the
iiscovery of idolatries at Jerusalem. Oh !
hat we could once see what heaps of abomi-
lations lies hid in us, one behind another.
Then having searched out, we must follow
m to purge out ; not to pass over, nor spare
any, but to delight most in casting out the
est-beloved sin, the choicest idol, that hath
ad most of our services and sacrifices, to
nake room for Jesus Christ.
And never cease in this work, for still
here is need of more purging : one day's
work in this disposes for and engages to a
urther, to the next ; for, as sin is purged
ut, light comes in, and more clear disco-
'eries are made of remaining pollutions.
So, then, still there must be progress, less
of the world and more of God in the heart
:very day. Oh ! this is a sweet course of
ife — what gain, what preferment to be coni-
jared to it ?
And in this it is good to have our ambi-
:ion growing ; the higher we arise, to aspire
still the higher, looking farther than before,
even toward the perfection of holiness. It
s not much we can here attain to, but sure
t is commonly far less than we might ;
we improve not our condition and advanta-
ges as we might do. The world is busy
driving forward their designs. Men of spirit
are animated, both by better and wors«
success : if any thing miscarry, it sets them
on the more eagerly to make it up, in the
right management of some other design ; and
when they prosper in one thing, that enables
and encourages them to attempt further
Shall all things seem worth our pains ? Are
only grace and glory so cheap in our account,
that the least diligence of all goes that wav ?
Oh, strange delusion !
Now, our cleansing is to be managed by
all holy means : word and sacrament more
wisely and spiritually used than commonly
with us ; and private prayer, that purifies
and elevates the soul, takes it up into the
mount, and makes it shine ; and particularly
supplicating for the spirit of holiness, and
victory over sin, is not in vain, it obtains
its desires of God, the soul becoming that
which it is fixedly set upon. Holy resolution :
Christians much wanting in this, faint and
lose in their purposes ; the consideration of
divine truths, the mysteries of the kingdom,
the hope of Christians, yea, rich and great
promises, that is particularly here the motive.
These are all the means, holy means they
are, as their end is the perfection of holiness.
Having these promises. Now consider
whether it is better to be the slaves of Satan
or the sons of God ; measure delight in God
with the low, base pleasures of sense. Blets-
ed are the pure in heart, for (hey shall see
God ; these gradually go on together, arid
418
SERMON XV.
Why then is tnere such an invincible love
of sin in the hearts of men ? At least, why
so little love of holiness, and endeavour
after it, so mean thoughts of it, as a thing
either indecent or unpleasant, when it is the
only noble and the only delightful thing in
the world ? The soul by other things is
drawn below itself, but by holiness it is
raised above itself, and made divine. Plea-
sures of sin for a season, the pleasure of a
moment, exchanged for those of eternity !
But even in the mean time, in this season,
the soul is fed with communion with God,
one hour of which is more worth than the
longest life of the highest of the world's
delights.
SERMON XV.
PSALM cxix. 32.
/ will run the way of thy commandments,
when thou shall enlarge my heart.
To desire ease and happiness, under a
general representation of it, is a thing of
more easy and general persuasion ; there is
somewhat in nature to help the argument ;
but to find beauty in, and be taken with the
very way .of holiness that leads to it, is more
rare, and depends on a higher principle.
.Self-love inclines a man to desire the rest of
love ; but to love and desire the labour of
love, is love of a higher and purer strain.
To delight and be cheerful in obedience,
argues much love as the spring of it. That
is the thing the holy Psalmist doth so plen-
tifully express in this Psalm, and he is still
desiring more of th»t sweet ann lively affec-
tion that might make him yet more abun-
dant in action. Thus, here, / will run,
&c. He presents his desire and purpose
together : " The more of this grace thou
bestowest on me, the more sen-ice shall I be
able to do thee."
Thi? is the top of his ambition, while
others are seeking to enlarge their barns,
their lands, or tstates, or titles; kings to
enlarge the?r territories or authority, to en-
croach on neighbouring kingdoms, or be
more absolute in their own ; instead of all
such enlargements, this is David's great
desire, an enlarged heart, to run the way
of God's commandments.
And these other (how big soever they
sound) are poor, narrow desires ; this one is
larger and higher than them all, and gives
evidence of a heart already large ; but as it is
miserable in those, it is happy in this
Much would still have more.
Let others seek more money or more
honour, Oh ! the blessed choice of that soul
that is still seeking more love to God, more
affection, and more ability to do him service;
that counts all days and hours for lost that
are not employed to this improvement ; that
hears the word in public, and reads it in private
for this purpose, to kindle this love, or to
blow the sparkle, if any there be in the heart,
to raise it to a clear flame, and from a little
flame to make it burn yet hotter and purer,
and rise higher ; but, above all means, is
often presenting this in prayer to Him on
whose influence all depends, in whose hand
our hearts are, much more than in our own.
It follows him with this desire, and works
on him by his own interest. Though there
can be really no accession of gain to him by
our services; yet he is pleased &o to account
with us as if there were. Therefore we may
urge this : " Lord, give more, and receive
more ; I will run the way of thy command-
ments, when thou shalt enlarge my heart."
We have here in the words a required dis-
position, and a suitable resolution. The
disposition relates to the resolution, as the
means of fulfilling it, and the resolution rer
lates to the disposition, both as the end of
desiring it, and as the motive of obtaining
it. The resolution occurs first in the words.
/ will run, &c. The way resolved on is
that of God's commandments, not the road
of the polluted world, not the crooked way
of his own heart, but the highway, the
royal way, the straight way of the kingdom,
and that in the notion of subjection and obe-
dience— the way of thy commandments.
This tnan naturally struggles against and
repines at. To be limited and bounded by
law is a restraint, and a vain man could
possibly find in his heart to do many of the
same things that are commanded ; but he
would not be tied, would have his liberty,
and do it of his own choice. This is the
enmity of the carnal mind against God,
as the apostle expresses it — " it is not sub-
ject to the law of God, neither can it
be ;" it breaks these bonds, and casts away
the cords of his authority. This is sin, the
transgression of a law, and this made the
first sin so great, though in a matter one
would think small— the eating of the fruit
of a tree ; it was rebellion against the ma-
jesty of God, casting off his law and autho-
rity, and aspiring to an imagined self-deity.
And this is still the treasonable pride, or in-
dependency, and wickedness of our nature,
rising up against God that formed us of
nothing.
And this is the power and substance of
religion, the new impress of God upon the
heart, and obedience and resignment to him,
to be given up to him as entirely his, to be
moulded and ordered as he will, to be sub-
ect to his laws and appointments in all things,
o have every action, and every word, under
SERMON XV.
419
a rule and law, and the penalty to he so high,
eternal death ! All this to a carnal or haughty
mind is hard ; not only every action and word,
but even every thought too, must be subject ;
not so much as thought-free, (2 Cor. x. 5,)
" Every thought is brought into captivity,"
(as the apostle speaks, and so the licentious
mind accounts it,) — not only the affections
and desires, but the very reasoning and ima-
ginations are brought under this law.
Now, to yield this as reasonable and due
to God, to own his sovereignty, and to ac-
knowledge the law to be holy, just, and good ;
to approve, yea, to love it, even there where
it most contradicts and controls our own
corrupt will, and the law of sin in our flesh,
this is true spiritual obedience; to study and
inquire after the will of God in all our ways,
what will please him, and having found it,
to follow that which is here called the way
of his commandments; to make this our way
and our business in the world, and all other
things but accessories and by-works; even
those lawful things that may be taken in,
and used as helps in our way: as the dis-
ciples passing through the corn plucked the
ears, and did eat in passing, as a by-work,
" but their business was to follow their master.
And whatsoever would hinder us in this way
must be watched and guarded against. To
effect that, we must either remove and thrust
jt aside, or if we cannot do that, yet we must
go over it, and trample it under foot, were it
the thing or the person that is dearest to us
in the world. Till the heart be brought
to this state and purpose, it is either wholly
void of, or very low and weak in the truth of
religion.
We place religion much in our accustomed
performances, in coming to church, hearing
and repeating of sermons, and praying at
home, keeping a road of such and such
duties. The way of God's commandments is
more in doing than in discourse. In many,
religion evaporates itself too much out by
the tongue, while it appears too little in their
ways. Oh ! but this is the main ; one act
of charity, meekness, or humility, speaks
more than a day's discourse. All the means
•we use in religion are intended for a further
end, which, if they attain not, they are no-
thing. This end is to mortify and purify
the heart, to mould it to the way of God's
commandments in the whole tract of our lives ;
in our private converse one with another, and
our retired secret converse with ourselves; to
have God still before us, and his law our rule
in all we do; that he may be our meditation
day and night, and that his law may be our
counsellor, as this Psalm hath it, to regulate
all our designs, and the works of our callings
by it. To walk soberly, and godly, and righte-
ously in this present world; to curb and
cross our own wills where they cross God's ;
to deny ourselves our own humour and pride,
our passions and pleasures, to have all those
subdued and brought under by the power of
the law of love within us. This, and nothing
below this, is the end of religion. Alasl
amongst multitudes that are called Christians,
some there may be that speak and appear like
it, yet how few are there that make this their
business and aspire to this — The way of God's
commandments !
His intended course in this way he ex-
presses by running ; it is good to be in this
way even in the slowest motions ; love will
creep where it cannot go. But if thou art
so indeed, then thou wilt long for a swifter
motion ; if thou do but creep, be doing, creep
on, yet desire to be enabled to go ; if thou
goest, but yet halting and lamely, desire to
be strengthened to walk straight ; and if thou
walkest, let not that satisfy thee, desire to
run. So here, David did walk in this way ;
but he earnestly wishes to mend his pace;
he would willingly run, and for that end he
desires an enlarged heart.
Some dispute and descant too much whe-
ther they go or no, and childishly tell their
steps, and would know at every pace whether
they advance or no, and how much they ad-
vance, and thus amuse themselves, and spend
the time of doing and going in questioning and
doubting. Thus it is with many Christians ;
but it were a more wise and comfortable way
to be endeavouring onwards, and if thou
make little progress, at least to be desiring
to make more; to be praying and walking,
and praying that thou mayest walk faster,
and that in the end thou mayest run; not
satisfied with anything attained, but yet by
that unsatisfiedness not to be so dejected as
to sit down, or stand still, but rather excited
to go on. So it was with St. Paul, Phil. iii.
13 ; " Forgetting those things which are be-
hind, and reaching forth unto those things
which are before, I press forward." If any
one thinks that he hath done well and run
far, and will take a pause, the great apostle is
of another mind — Not as if I had attained.
Oh, no ! far from that ; he still sets forward
as if nothing were done, as a runner, not
still looking back how much he hath run, but
forward to what he is to run, stretching forth
to that, inflamed with frequent looks at the
mark and end. Some are retarded by looking
on what is past, as not satisfied; they have
done nothing, as they think, and so stand still
discontented ; but even in that way, it is not
good to look too much to things behind ; we
must forget them rather, and press onwards.
Some, if they have gone on well, and pos-
sibly run awhile, yet if thej fall, then they
are ready, in a desperate mal-content, to lie
still and think all is lost; and in this peevish
fretting at their falls, some men please them'
selves and take it for repentance, whereas
420
SERMON XV.
indeed, it is not that, but rather pride and
humour; repentance is a more submissive,
numble thing. But this is that which
troubles some men at their new falls,(especially
if after a long time of even walking or run-
ning,) they think their project is now spo:l-
ed ; their thoughts are broken off, they would
have had somewhat to haverejoiced in, if they
had still gone on to the end, but being disap
pointed of that, they think they had as good
let alone, and give over. Oh ! but the
humble Christian is better taught ; his falls
teach him indeed to abhor himself, they dis-
cover his own weakness to him, and empty
him of self-trust, but they do not dismay
him to get up and go on, not boldly and
carelessly forgetting his fall, but in the hum-
ble sense of it walking the more warily, but
not the less swiftly ; yea, the more swiftly
too, making the more haste to regain the
lime lost by the fall. So, then, if you would
run in this way, depend on the strength of
God, and on his Spirit leading thee, that
so thou mayest not fall, and yet if thou dost
fall, arise ; and if thou art plunged in the
mire, go to the fountain opened for sin and
uncleanness, and wash there ; bemoan thyself
before thy Lord ; and if hurt, and bleeding
by thy fall, yet look on him, desire Jesus
to pity thee, and bind up and cure thy
wound, washing off thy blood and pouring
in of his own.
However it is with thee, give not over,
faint not, run on ; and that thou mayest run
the more easily and expeditely, make thy-
self as light as may be ; " lay aside every
weight," Heb. xii. t, 2. Clog not thysel
with unnecessary burdens of earth, and espe-
cially lay aside that, that of all other things
weighs the heaviest, and cleaves the closest,
the sin that so easily besets us, and is so
hardly put off us, that folds so connaturally
to us, and we therefore think will not hinder
us much. And not only the sins that are
more outward, but the inner, close-cleaving
sins, the sin that most of all sits easily to
us, not only our cloak, but our inner coat
away with that too, as our Saviour says in
another case, and run the race set before us
our appointed stage, and that with patience,
under all oppositions and discouragements
from the world without and sin within. Am
to encourage thee in this, look to such a
cloud of witnesses that compasseth us abo>
to further us : as troubles, temptations, am
sin, do to hinder us. They encountered the
like sufferings, and were encountered witl
the like sins, and yet they run on and goi
home. Alexander would have run in the
Olympic Games if he had had kings to rui
with ; now, in this race, kings and prophet
and righteous persons run ; yea, all are in-
deed a kingly generation, each one heir to
crown as the prize of this race.
And if these encourage thee but little*
hen look beyond them, above that cloud
f witnesses, to the Sun, the Sun of riyhte-
•usness ; looking off from all things here,
hat would either entangle thee or discourage
hee, taking thine eye off from them, and
ooking to him that will powerfully draw
hee and animate thee. Look to Jesus, not
as thy forerunner in this race, but also as
hy undertaker in it ; the author and finish-
er of our faith. His attaining the end of
he race is the pledge of thy attaining, if
thou follow him cheerfully on the same en-
couragements that he looked to ; '' who, for
the joy that was set before him, endured the
cross and despised the shame, and is now
set down at the right hand of God."
When thou shall enlarge my heart. In
all beings the heart is the principle of motion,
and according as it is more or less perfect
in its kind, those motions that flow from it
are more or less vigorous. Therefore hath
the Psalmist good reason, to the end his
spiritual course may be the stedfaster, and
the faster, to desire that the principle of it,
the heart, may be more enabled and dis-
posed, which here he expresses by its being
enlarged.
What this enlargement of the heart is, a
man's own inward sense should easily explain
to him. Sure it would, did men reflect on
it, and were they acquainted with their own
hearts ; but the most are not. They would
find the carnal, natural heart, a narrow, con-
tracted, hampered thing, bound with cords
and chains of its own twisting and forging,
and so incapable of walking, much less oi
running in this way of God's commandments,
till it be freed and enlarged.
The heart is taken generally in scripture,
lor the whole soul, the understanding and
will, in its several affections and motions \
anil the speech being here of an enlarged
heart, it seems very congruous to take it in
tne most enlarged sense.
It is said of Solomon, that he hath a large
heart, (the same word that is here,) as the
sand of the sea shore ; that is, a vast- com-
prehensive spirit, that could fathom much ol
nature, both its greater and lesser things.
" He spoke of trees, from the cedar in Le-
banon to the hyssop in the wall, and of great
beasts, and small creeping things."
Thus, I conceive, the enlargement of the
heart compriseth the enlightening cf the un-
derstanding. There arises a clearer light
there to discern spiritual things in a more
spiritual manner ; to see the vast difference
betwixt the vain things the world goes after,
and the true, solid delight that is in the way
of God's commandments ; to know the false
blush of the pleasures of sin, and what de-
formity is under that painted mask, and not
be allured by it ; to have enlarged apprehen-
sions of God, his excellency, and greatness,
and goodness ; how worthy he is to be obey-
SERMON XV.
421
ed and served. This is the great dignity
and happiness of the soul ; all other preten-
sions are low and poor in respect of this.
Here then is enlargement to see the purity
and beauty of his law, how just and reason,
able, yea, how pleasant and amiable it is ;
that his commandments are not grievous,
that they are beds of spices ; the more we
walk in them, still the more of their fragrant
smell and sweetness we find.
And then, consequently, upon the larger
and clearer knowledge of these things, the
heart dilates itself in affection ; the more it
knows of God, still the more it loves him,
and the less it loves this present world ; love
is the great enlarger of the heart to all obe-
dience. Then nothing is hard, yea, the
harder things become, the more delightful.
All love of other things doth pinch and
contract the heart, for they are all narrower
than itself. It is framed to that wideness
at its first creation, capable of enjoying God.,
though not of a full comprehending him.
Therefore all other things gather it in, and
straiten it from its natural size, only the
love of God stretches and dilates it. He is
large enough for it, yea, it, in its fullest
enlargement, is infinitely too narrow for him.
Do not all find it, if they will ask them-
selves, that in all other loves and pursuits
Tn this world, there is still somewhat that
pinches ? The soul is not at its full size,
but as a foot in a strait shoe, is somewhere
bound and pained, and cannot go freely,
much less run ; though another that looks
on cannot tell where, yet each one feels it.
But when the soul is set free from these
narrow things, and is raised to the love of
God, then it is at ease, and at large, and
hath room enough ; it is both elevated and
dilated. And this word signifies a high-
raised soul, and is sometimes taken for
proud and lofty ; but there is a greatness
and height of spirit in the love of God and
union with him, that doth not vainly swell
and lift it up, but with the deepest humility
joins the highest and truest magnanimity.
It sets the soul above the snares that lie here
below, in which most men creep and are en-
tangled, in that way of life that is on high
to the just, as Solomon speaks.
Good reason hath David to join these
together, and to dssire the one as the spring
and cause of the other : an enlarged heart,
that he might run the way of God's com-
mandments.
Sensible joys and consolations in God do
encourage and enlarge the heart ; but these
are not so general to all, nor so constant to
any. Love is the abounding, fixed spring
of ready obedience, and will make the heart
cheerful in serving God, even without those
felt comforts, when he is pleased to deny or
withdraw them.
In that course or race is understood Con-
stancy, Activity, and Alacrity, and all these
flow from the enlargement of the heart.
1. Constancy: A narrow, enthralled heart,
fettered with the love of lower tilings, and
cleaving to some particular sins, or but some
one, and that secret, may keep foot a while in
the way of God's commandments, in some
steps of them ; but it must give up quickly, is
not able to run on to the end, to the goal. But
a heart that hath laid aside every weight, and
the most close-cleaving and besetting sin, (as
it is in that place to the Hebrews,) hath strip-
ped itself of all that may falter or entangle it ;
it runs, and runs on, without fainting cr
wearying ; it is at large, hath nothing that
pains it in the race.
2. Activity : Not only holding on, but
running, which is a swift, nimble race. It
stands not bargaining and disputing, but
once knowing God's mind, there is no more
question or demur. 1 made haste and de-
layed not, as in this Psalm the word is ;
did not stay upon why and wherefore ; he stood
not to reason the matter, but run on. And
this love, enlarging the heart, makes it
abundant in the work of the Lord, quick
and active, dispatching much in a little time.
3. Alacrity •• All done with cheerfulness,
so no other constraint is needful, where this
overpowering, sweet constraint of love is.
/ will run, not be hauled, and drawn, as
by force, but skip and leap, as the evangelic
promise is, that the " lame shall leap as an
liart, and the tongue of the dumb sing :
For in the wilderness shall waters break out,
and streams in the desert," Isa. xxxv. 0.
The spouse desires her beloved " to hasten
as a roe and hind on the mountains of spices,"
and she doth so, and each faithful soul runs
towards him, to meet him in his way.
It is a sad, heavy thing to do by any
thing as in obedience to God, while the heart
is straitened, not enlarged towards him by
his divine love ; but that oni-e taking pos-
session, and enlarging the heart, that inward
principle of obedience makes the outward
obedience sweet ; it is then a natural motion.
Indeed, the soul runs in the ways of God,
as the sun in his course, which finds no diffi-
culty, being naturally fitted and carried to
that motion ; he " goes forth as a bride-
groom, and rejpiceth as a strong man to run
a race."
Tliis is the great point that our soul*
should be studious of, — to attain more even-
ness, and nimhleness, and cheerfulness, in
the ways of God, and for this end we ought
to seek above all things this enlarged heart ;
it is want of this makes us bog, and drive
heavily, and run long upon little ground.
Oh ! my beloved, how shallow and narrow
are our thoughts of God i Most even of
those that are truly godly, yet are fed by a
kind of instinct, and carried they scarce know
how, to give some attendance on God's vror-
422
SERMON XV.
•hip, and tu. the avoidance of gross sin, and
go on in a blameless course. It is better
thus, than to run to excess of riot and open
wickedness, with the ungodly world. But,
alas ! this is but a dull, heavy, and languid
motion, where the heart is not enlarged by
the daily growing love of God. Few, few
are acquainted with that delightful contem-
plation of God, that ventilates and raises this
flame of love. Petty things bind and con-
tract our spirits, so that they feel little joy
in God, little ardent, active desire to do him
service, to crucify sin, to break and undo
self-love within us, to root up our own wills
to make room for his, that his alone may be
ours, that we may have no will of our own,
that our daily work may be to grow more
like him in the beauty of holiness. You
think it a hard saying to part with your car-
nal lusts and delights, and the common ways
of the world, and to be tied to a strict, ex-
act conversation all your days. But Oh !
the reason of this is, because the heart is yet
straitened and enthralled by the base love of
these mean things, and that is from the ig-
norance of things higher and better. One
glance of God, a touch of his love, will free
and enlarge the heart, so that it can deny
all, and make an entire renouncing of all,
to follow Him. It sees enough in Him, and
in Him alone, and therefore can neither
quietly rest on, nor earnestly desire any thing
besides Him.
Oh ! that you would apply your hearts to
consider the excellency of this way of God's
commandments. Our wretched hearts are
prejudiced ; they think it melancholy and
sad. Oh ! there is no way truly joyous but
this : They shall sing in the ways of the
Lord, says the prophet. Do not men, when
their eyes are opened, see a beauty in meek-
ness, and temperance, and humility, a
present delightfulness and quietness in them ?
Whereas in pride, and passion, and intem-
perance, there is nothing but vexation and
disquiet. And then consider the end of
this way, and this race in it — rest and peace
for ever ; it is the way of peace, both in its
own nature, and in respect of its end. Did
you believe that joy and glory that is set before
you in this way, you would not any of you
defer a day longer, but forthwith you would
break from all that holds you back, and
enter into this way, and run on in it. The
persuasion of these great things above,
would enlarge and greaten the heart, and
make the greatest things here very little in
your eyes.
But would you attain to this enlarged
heart for this race, and as you ought to ap-
ply your thoughts to these divine things, and
stretch them on the promises made in the
word, above all, take David's course, seek
this enlargement of heart from God's own
hand, for it is hev i.rowmidpd and laid be-
fore God by way of request : " See what is
my desire ; I would gladly serve thee better,
and advance more in the way of thy com-
mandments. Now this I cannot do till my
heart be more enlarged, and that cannot be
but by thy hand — When thou shall enlarge
my heart." Present this suit often ; it is
in his power to do it for thee ; he can stretch
and expand thy straitened heart, can spread
and hoist the sails within thee, and then
carry thee on swiftly ; rilling them not with
the vain air of man's applause, which readily
runs a soul upon rocks and splits it, but
with the sweet breathings and soft gales of
his own spirit, that carry it straight to the
desired haven.
Findest thou sin cleaving to thee and
clogging thee ? cry to him, " Help, Lord,
set me free from my narrow heart. — I strive
but in vain without thee, still it continues
so. — I know little of thee, my affections are
dead and cold towards thee. — Lord, I desire
to love thee ; here is my heart, and lest it
fly out, lay hold on it, and take thine own
way with it ; though it should be in a painful
way, yet draw it forth, yea draw it that it
may run after thee." All is his own work-
ing, and all his motive is his own free grace.
Let who will fancy themselves masters or
their own hearts, and think to enlarge them
by the strength of their own stretches o?
speculation ; they alone, they alone are in
the sure and happy way of attaining it, that
humbly suit and wait for this enlargement of
heart from His hand that made it.
SERMON XVI.
ROMANS viii. 33, 34.
Who shall lay any thing to the charge of
God's elect .« It is God thai justifieth, &c.
OTHER men may fancy and boast as they
please, but there are none in the world but
the godly alone that are furnished with suffi-
ciently strong supports and comforts against
all possible hazards, and of these doth the apos-
tle treat most freely, sweetly, and plentifully
in this chapter. He secures believers in their
Christ, touching these two great evils, after-
condemnation and present affliction, that the
one cannot befal them, and the other cannot
hurt them.
For their immunity from the former, they
have the clear word of the gospel, and the
seal of the Spirit : and that former privilege
made sure, as the far greater doth secure
the other as the lesser.
They are freed from condemnation, and
not only so, but entitled and insured to a
j kingdom. And what hurt then can afflic-
SERMON XVI
423
tion do ? Yea, it doth good ; yea, not only
it cannot rob them of their crown, but it
carries them on towards it, is their high-way
to it : " If we suffer with him, we shall also
two be not sufficient furniture against them,
I know not what is.
Men are commonly busied about other
events concerning them and theirs, what
be glorified together." Yea, all things to the ! shall become of this or the other, and what
children of God do prove advantageous ; if this or that fall out ; but the conscience
severally taken, in their present sense, they
may seem evil, but taken jointly in their
after issue, their workings together are all
for good. In their simple nature possibly
they ate poison, yet contempered and prepar-
ed, they shall prove medicinal. All these
things are against me, said old Jacob, and
yet he lived to see even all these were for
him. The children of God are indeed so
happy, that the harshest things in their way
change their nature, and become sweet and
profitable. This much is effected by their
prayers, that have a divine incantation in
them. They breathe forth the expressions
of that their love to God, by which they are
charactered, them that love God ; and that
is put on their hearts, the impression of his
love to them, to which they are here led,
by the apostle, as to the spring-head of all.
All their comforts and privileges flow thence,
yea, all their love, and their faith, appro-
priating those comforts and privileges. Yea,
the very treasury of all together, Jesus Christ
himself, is the free gift of this free love ; he,
as the greatest, ascertains all things besides
as unspeakably less, ver. 32.
These two are such mighty arguments,
that no difficulty nor grief can stand before
them. The love of God ; he is with us,
who then against us ? All the world it may
be ; but that is all nothing. Once it was
nothing ; it was that God that is our God,
that loves us and is for us, that made it
something, and if he will, it may again be
nothing. And as it is at its best, it is no.
thing, being compared with another gift
that he hath bestowed on us ; and having
bestowed that, sure if there be any thing in
this world can do us any good, we shall not
want it. " He that spared not his own Son,
but gave him to the death for us, will he not
with him give us all things ?"
And to close all, he makes these two great
immunities good to us in Christ. He fixes
there ; there we are freed from all fear of
condemnation, or of being hurt by affliction.
No accusation nor guiltiness can annul the
righteousness of Christ, and that is made
ours ; no distress nor suffering can cut us
off" from the love of God : and if it cannot
do that, we need not fear it ; all other hazards
are no hazard, that being sure.
And in confidence of this, the apostle,
gives the defiance, casts a challenge to angels,
to men, to all the world, upon these two
points, Who shall accuse ? Who shall se-
parate ; accuse to God, or separate from him ?
Whatsoever times may come, the hardest
that any can apprehend or,foretel, if these
once raised to this inquiry, the soul being
awake to discern the hazard of eternal death,
all other fears and questions are drowned
and lost in this great question, " Am I
condemned or not ? Is my sin pardoned
or no ?"
And then a satisfying answer received
concerning this, all is quiet, the soul reposes
sweetly on God, and puts all its other con.
cernments into his hands. " Let him make
me poor and despised, let him smite and
chastise me — he hath forgiven my sin ;
all is well." That burden taken off, the
soul can go light, yea, can leap and dance
under all other burdens. Oh ! how it feels it-
self nimble, as a man eased of a load that he
was even fainting under. Oh ! blessed the
man whose sin is taken off, lifted from his
shoulders, (that is the word, Psalm xxxii.
1,) laid over upon Christ, who could bear
the whole load, and take it away, take it out
of sight, which we could never have done ;
no, they would have sunk us for ever. That
one wordajjs/, John i. 29, signifies both, and
answers to the two, Isa. liii. 4. " He hath
jorne our grief, and carried our sorrow ;"
jfted them away. Oh ! how sweet a bur-
den, instead of this, is that engagement of
obedience and love to him as our Redeemer,
and that is all he lays on us. If we follow
lim, and bear his cross, he is our strength,
and bears both it and us. So then this is
the great point, the heart's ease, to be de-
ivered from the condemning weight of sin.
And certainly, while men do not think
thus, their hearts have very slight impres-
sions of the truth of these things. 1 fear
the most of us scarce believe this condemna-
tion to come, at least very shallowly, and
so they cannot much consider the deliver- •
ance from it provided to us in Jesus Christ.
1 cannot see how it is possible for a heart
persuaded of these, to be very careful about
any thing besides. You that eat and drink,
and labour and trade, and bestow all your
time, either in the pains or the pleasures of
this earth, what think you of eternity ? Is
it a light thing for you to perish for ever ?
After a few days vainly spent, to fall under
the wrath of God for ever? Oh ! that
you would be persuaded to think on these
things.
And you that have an interest in this free
and blessed estate, why are your spirits so
cold, so unfrequent in the thoughts of it ?
Why are you not rejoicing in the Lord ;
gladdening yourselves in secret when you re-
member this : " Go the world as it will,
my sin i» forgiven me ; mistake me, accuse
424
SERMON XVI
me whoso will, my God hath acquitted me
in his Christ, and he loves me, and lives to
intercede for me."
Methinks I hear some say, " Aye, they
that could say that, might be merry indeed ;
but, alas ! I have no such assurance. Who
can lay any thing to the charge of God's
elect ? That is true ; but here is the great
point of so hard a resolution, am I one of
these ?"
That the apostle doth thus specify the
owners of this consolation, by this high and
hidden character of their election, is not to
render it doubtful and dark ; for his main
aim, on the contrary, is both to extend it as
far as it can go, and to make it as clear as
may be to all that have interest in it : but he
designs them by the primitive act of love
fixing on them, so as it is now manifested
to them in the subsequent effects that flow
from the elect, called and sanctified, and
conformed to Jesus Christ, both by his
Spirit within them, and the sufferings that
without arise against them in the world ;
such as, being " the sons of God, are led by
the Spirit of God, and walk not after the
flesh, but after the Spirit."
And these things indeed considered as
their characters, the stamp of God on them,
the impressions of their election to life,
do check the vain confidence of all carnal,
ungodly professors of the name of Christ,
and tell them that their pretended title to
him is a mere delusion ; certainly, whoso-
ever lies in the love of sin, and takes the
flesh for his guide, that accursed blind guide
is leading him into the pit. What gross folly
and impudence is it for any man, walking in
the lusts of his own heart, to fancy and aver
himself to be a partner of that redemption,
whereof so great a part is to deliver us from
the power of our iniquities, to renew our
hearts and re-unite them to God, and possess
them with his love !
The great evidence of thy election is love.
Thy love to him gives certain testimony of
his preceding eternal love to thee ; so are
they here designed, they that love God ;
thy choosing him is the effect and evidence
of his choosing thee. Now this is not la-
borious, that needs to be disputed, amidst
all thy frailties ; feel the pulse of thine
affection, which way beats it, and ask thy
heart whether thou love him or not ; in this
thou hast the character of thy election.
Know you not, that the redeemed of Christ
and he are one, they live one life, Christ
lives in them ; and if " any man hath not
when souls we onoe set upon this search, they
commonly wind the notion too high, and sub-
ilize too much in the dispute, and so entangle
and perplex themselves, and drive themselves
?urther off from that comfort that they are
seeking after ; such measures and marks of
jrace, they set to themselves for their rule
and standard ; and unless they find those
without all controversy in themselves, they
will not believe that they have an interest in
Christ, and this blessed and safe estate in him.
To such I would only say, Are you in a
willing league with any known sin ? Yea,
would you willingly, if you might be saved
in that way, give up yourself to voluptuous-
ness and ungodliness, and not at all desire to
follow Jesus Christ in the way of holiness ?
Then truly, I have not any thing as yet to
say for your comfort, only there is a salvation
provided, and the door is yet open, and your
heart may be changed. But, on the other
side, are the desires of thy soul after Christ,
whole Christ, to be righteousness, and withal
sanctification to thee ? Wouldst thou will-
ingly give up thyself to be ruled by him, and
have him thy King ? Hadst thou rather
choose to suffer the greatest affliction for his
sake, to honour him, than to commit the least
sin to displease him ? Doth thy heart go out
after him, when thou hearest him spoke of?
Dost thou account him thy treasure, so that
all the world sounds but as an empty shell
to thee, when he is named ? Says thy soul
within thee, Oh ! that he were mine ? and,
oh ! that I were his, that I could please him
and live to him ? Then do not toss thy spirit,
and jangle and spin out thy thoughts in fruit-
less, endless doublings, but close with this as
thy portion, and be of good comfort ; thy sins
are, or will be, forgiven thee.
I add yet further, if thou sayest yet, that
thou findest none of all this, yet I say, there
is warrant for thee to believe and lay hold on
this righteousness here held forth, to the end
that thou mayest then find those things in
thee, and find comfort in them. Thou art
convinced of ungodliness, then believe on him
that justifies the ungodly ; thou art condemn-
ed, yet Christ is dead and risen ; fly to him
as such, as the Lamb slain, he that teas dead
and is alive, and then say, Who is he that
condemneth ? It is Christ that died, or
rather that is risen. Who shall accuse ?
It is true, they may clamour and make a
noise, both Satan and thy conscience, but
how can they fasten any accusation on thee ?
If they dare accuse, yet they cannot condemn
when the Judge hath acquitted thee, and de-
clared thee free, who is greater than all, and
hath the absolute power of the sentence ; all
charges and libels come too late after he hath
once pronounced a soul righteous. And who
the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his,'
the apostle declares in this chapter ? So
then, this we are plainly to tell you, and
consider it, you that will not let go your
sins to lay hold on Christ, have as yet no 'shall 'condemn", it 7s Christ that died, tf the
share in it. (sentence of the law be brought forth? Yet
But, on the other side, the truth is, that 'here is the answer, it ought not to be twice
SERMON XVII.
426
satisfied ; now one; it is in Christ, he hath
died, and that stands for the believer. Who-
soever flies to him, and lays hold on him for
life, he cannot die again ; nor canst thou die,
f >r whom he died once, or rather is risen ;
that raises the assurance higher, and sets it
firmer ; for this evidences that in his death
all was paid, when he being the surety and
seized on for the debt, and once death's pri-
soner, yet was set free. This clears the mat-
ter, that there is no more to be said ; and yet
further, in-sign that all is done, he is raised
to the height of honour above all principa-
lities and powers, is set at the right hand of
the Father, and there he sits and lives to make
intercession, to sue out the fulfilling of all
for believers, the bringing of them home —
lives to see all made good that he died and
covenanted for ; so now his righteousness is
thine that believest ; any challenge must meet
with Christ first, and if it seize not on him,
it cannot light on thee, for thou art in him,
married to him. And the same triumph that
he speaks, Isa. 1. 8, whence these words are
borrowed, that is made thine, and thou may-
est now speak it in him. I know not what
can cast him down that hath this word to
rest upon, and to comfort himself in.
SERMON XVII.
ROM. viii. 35, &c.
Who shall separate us from the love of
Christ ? Shall tribulation., or distress, or
persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or
peril, or sword, £<?. ?
Is this he that so lately cried out, O wretch-
ed man that I am ! who shall deliver me 9
that now triumphs, O happy man ! Who
shall separate us from the love of Christ ?
Yes, it is the same. Pained then with
the thoughts of that miserable conjunction
with a body of death, and so crying out,
Who will deliver ? Who will separate me
from that now ? Now he hath found a de-
liverer to do that for him, to whom he is for
ever united, and he glories now in his inse-
parable union, and unalterable love, that none
can divide him from ; yea, it is through him,
that presently after that word of complaint
he praises God, and now in him he triumphs.
So vast a difference is there betwixt a Chris-
tian, taken in himself, and in Christ ; when
he views himself in himself, then he is no-
thing but a poor, miserable, polluted, perish-
ing wretch ; but then he looks again, and
sees himself in Christ, and there he is rich,
and safe, and happy ; he triumphs, and he
glories in it above all the painted prosperities, I
and against all the horrid adversities of the!
wr.rld ; he lives in his Christ content and
happy, and laughs at all enemies.
And he extends his triumph, he makes a
common good of it to all believers, speaks it
in their name — who shall separate us 9
And would have them partake of the same
confidence, and speak in the same style with
him. It is vain that men fancy these to be
expressions of revelations, or some singular-
ly privileged assurances ; then they would
not suit their end, which is clearly and un-
doubtedly the encouragement of all the chil-
dren af God, upon grounds that are peculiar
to them from all the rest of the world, but
common to them all, in all ages, and all va-
rieties of condition.
It is true all of them have not a like clear
and firm apprehension of their happy and
sure estate, and scarce any of them are alike
at all times ; yet they have all and always
the same right to this estate, and to the com-
fort of it ; and when they stand in a right
light to view it, they do see it so, and rejoice
in it.
There be indeed some kind of assurances
that are more rare and extraordinary, some
immediate glances, or coruscations of the love
of God upon the soul of a believer ; a smile
of his countenance, and this doth exceeding-
ly refresh, yea, ravish the soul, and enables
it mightily for duties and sufferings. These
he dispenses arbitrarily and freely where and
when he will ; some weaker Christians some-
times have them, when stronger are strangers
to them, the Lord training them to live more
contentedly by faith till the day of vision come.
And that is the other, the less ecstatical,
but the more constant and fixed kind of as-
surance, the proper assurance of faith. The
soul by believing cleaves unto God in Christ
as he offers himself in the gospel, and thence
is possessed with a sweet and calm persua-
sion of his love, that being the proper work,
to appropriate him, to make Christ, and in
him eternal life, ours : so it is the proper re-
sult and fruit of that its acting, especially
when it acts any thing strongly to quiet the
soul in him ; then being justified by faith,
we have peace with God, through our Lord
Jesus Christ, and from that peace, joy : yea,
even glorying in tribulation, as there follows.
And these springing not from an extraordi-
nary sense or view, but from the very innate
virtue of faith working kindly, and according
to its own nature.
Therefore many Christians do prejudice
their own comfort, and darken their spirits,
by not giving freedom to faith to act accord-
ing to its nature and proper principles ; they
will not believe till they find some evidence
or assurance, which is quite to invert the
order of the thing, and to look for fruit with-
out setting a root for it to grow from.
Would you take Christ upon the absolute
word of promise tendering him to yon, auJ
320
SERMON XVI f.
rest on him, so this would engraft you into
life itself, for that he is, and so those fruits
of the Holy Ghost would bud and flourish
in your hearts ; from that very believing on
him, would arise this persuasion, yea, even
to a glorying, and an humble boasting in
his love — Who shall accuse ; who shall con-
demn ; who shall separate ?
The undivided companion, and undoubt-
ed helper and preserver of this confidence of
faith, is an active love to Christ, a constant
study of holiness, and strife against sin, which
is the grand enemy of faith, that obstructs
the very vital spirits of faith, that makes it
sickly and heavy in its actings, and causes
the palsy in the hand of faith, that it cannot
lay so fast hold. Therefore this you would
be careful of, yea, know that of necessity it
attends faith, and as faith grows, holiness
will grow, and holiness growing will mutu-
ally strengthen and establish faith. The
comforts of the Holy Ghost are holy, purify-
ing comforts ; and the more the soul is pu-
rified, and made holy, the more it is cleared
and enlarged, to receive much of these com-
forts. Blessed are the pure in heart, for
they shall see God ; unholiness is as damps
and filthy mists in the soul, it darkens all.
Hence it is evident, in what way Chris-
tians may and ought to aspire to this assur-
ance ; it is their portion, and in this way
they are to aspire to it, and shall find it ; if
not presently, yet let them wait and go on in
this way — they shall not miscarry-
Again it appears, that this assurance is no
enemy to holy diligence, nor friend of carnal
security ; on the contrary, it is the only thing
that doth eminently ennoble and embolden
the soul for all adventures and services.
Base fears and doublings, wherein some place
much of religion, and many weak Christians
seem to be in that mistake, to think it a kind
of holy, spiritual temper to be questioning
and doubting. I say these base fears can
never produce any thing truly generous, no
height of obedience ; they do nothing but en-
tangle and disable the soul for every good
work ; perfect love casts out this fear, and
works a sweet, unperplexing fear, a holy wa-
riness not to offend, which fears nothing else.
And this confidence of love is the great secret
of comfort, and of ability to do good service.
Nothing makes so strong and healthful a
constitution of soul as pure love ; it dare sub-
mit to God, and resign itself to him ; it dare
venture itself in his hand, and trust his word,
and seek no more but how to please him.
A heart thus composed, goes readily and
cheerfully unto all services, to do, to suffer,
to live, to die, at his pleasure ; and firmly
stands to this, that nothing can separate it
from that which is sufficient to it, which is
all its happiness — the love of God in Christ
That is indeed his love to us, but so as it
ncludes inseparably the inseparab'eness of
our love to him ; for observe the things spe-
cified as most likely, if any thing, to separate
us ; shall tribulation, distress, &c. Now
these especially, being endured for his sake,
cannot immediately have any likely visage
of altering his love to us, but rather confirm
us in it ; but these shall not separate us nei-
ther by altering our love to him, by driving
us from him, and carrying us into any way
of defection, or denial of his name, and so
cut us off from our union with him, and in-
terest in his love ; and that is the way wnerein
the weak Christian will most apprehend the
hazard of separation. Now the apostle speaks
his own sense, and would raise in his bre-
thren the same confidence, as to that danger.
No fear ; not one of these things shall be
able to carry us away : these mighty waves
shall not unsettle our faith, nor quench the
flame of our love ; we shall be victors and
more, in all ; but how ? Through him that
hath loved us.
This his love makes sure ours ; he hath
such hold of our hearts as he will not let go,
nor suffer us to let go our hold : all is fast by
his strength. He will not lose us, nor shaD
any be able to pluck us out of his hand.
Jesus Christ is the medium of this love,
the middle link that keeps all safe together
betwixt God and man, so close united in his
personal nature, and the persons of men in
and by him, to the Father. So here it is
first called the love of Christ, and then in
the close, the love of God in Christ ; the
soul first carried to him as nearest, but so
carried by him into that primitive love Oi
God that flows in Christ, and that gave even
Christ to us as before. And this is the bot-
tom-truth, the firm ground of the saint's per-
severance, which men not taking aright, must
needs question the matter, yea, may put it
out of question upon their suppositions ; for if
our own purposes and strength were all we had
to rely on, alas ! how soon were we shaken !
So the love of God in Christ is not only
here mentioned as the point of happiness,
from which we cannot be removed, but as
the principle of firmness that makes itself
sure of us, and us of it, and will not part
with us.
Now it is no pride in a Christian, but the
truest humility, to triumph and glory in this.
This is it that makes all sure : this is the
great comfort, and the victory of the saints.
He that loved us, and bought us so dear,
will not lightly slip from us, yea, upon no
terms will he let us go, unless some stronger
than he has met with him, and by force be-
reave him of us ; which we know is impos-
sible. He and his Father, who are one in
themselves, and in their strength, and one
in this love, are greater and stronger than
all ; and he that once overcame for us, al-
ways overcoir.es in us.
SERMON XVir.
42?
. Tl us he lets temptations and tribulations
assault us, and this neither unargues his love,
nor endangers his right to us ; yea, it doth
but give proof and evidence of the invincible
firmness of both. He suffers others to lie
soft, and sit warm, and pamper their flesh
at leisure, but he hath nobler business for
his champions, his worthies, and most of all
for the stoutest of them ; he calls them forth
to honourable services, to the hardest encoun-
ters; he sets them on, one to fight with sick-
ness, another with poverty, another with re-
proaches and persecutions, with prisons and
irons, and with death itself: and all this
while, loves he them less, or they him ? Oh !
no ; he looks on, and rejoices to see them do
valiantly ; it is the joy of his heart — no sight
on earth so sweet to him : and il is all the
while by his subduing, and in his strength,
that they hold out in the conflict, and ob
tain the conquest.
And thus they are more endeared to him
by these services, and these adventures oi
love for him, and he still likewise is the
more endeared to them. Certainly the more
any one suffers for Christ, the more he loves
Christ, as love doth grow and engage itsell
by all it does and suffers, and burns hotter
by what it encounters and overcomes, as by
fuel added to it : as to Jesus Christ, by whai
\>e suffered for us, we are the dearer to him,
so he is to us by all we suffer for his sake.
Love grows most by opposition from others
whomsoever, when it is sure of acceptance
and the correspondence of mutual love in the
party loved. Above all, this heavenly di
vine love is strong as death, a vehemen
flame, a flame of God indeed, as the wor
is, and many waters cannot quench it, no
all these that here follow one another, tribu
lalion, distress, persecution, famine, naked
ness, peril, sword ; yea, in the midst o
these, I say, it grows ; the soul cleave
closer to Christ, the more attempts are mad
to remove it from him, though killed all th
day long. (This passage from the Psali
is most tit, both to testify that persecutio
is not unusually the lot of the saints, and t
give instance of their firm adherence to Go
in all troubles, as the church there profess
eth ; and if the saints in that dispensatio
could reckon in such a manner, much mo:
Ought Christians, upon a clearer 'discover
of the covenant of grace, and their unio
with God and Christ.) The saints are a
in a common butchery in the world, yet nc
only as sheep for the slaughter, but som
times as sheep for the altar, men thinkin
it as sacrifice. They that kill you (says oi
Saviour,) shall think they do God service
yet even this pulls not from him : they pa
with life ; aye, why not ? This life is b
a death, and is his life for whom we lose it.
All those do but increase the victories an
triumphs of love, and make it more gloriou
they tell of her multiplying labours to
at champion, they are not only conque-
rs, by multiplied victories, and they gain
them all both more honour and more
Tength ; they are the fitter for new adven-
ures, and so more than simple conquerors.
7e overcome, and are sure not to lose for.
er conquests, but to add more and conquer
n to the end ; which other conquerors are
ot sure of; oftentimes they outlive their
wn successes and renown, and lose on a
dden what they have been gaining a whole
fetiiiie. Not so here : we are secured in
le author of our victories ; it is through him
lat hath loved us, and he cannot grow less,
ea, shall still grow greater, till all his ene- •
ies be made his footstool.
Having given the challenge, and finding
one to answer, and that all, the most appa-
ent, are in a most rhetorical accumulation
lenced, tribulation, distress, persecution,
amine, nakedness, peril, sword, &c., he
oes on confidently in the tiiumph, and avers
is assurance of full and final victory against
11 imaginable power of all the creatures ;
either death nor life, not the fear of the
nost terrible death, nor the hope or love of
he most desirable life ; and in the height of
his courage and confidence, he supposes im-
jossible enemies, angels, principalities, &c.,
unless you take it of the angels of darkness
inly ; but if it could be possible that the
ither should offer at such a thing, they
would be too weak for it. No sense of any
>resent things, or apprehensions of things to
come, not any thing within the vast circle of
he world above or below, nor any creature,
can do it. Here sin is not specified, because
ic is speaking of outward oppositions and
difficulties expressly, and because that is re-
moved by the former challenge, Who shall
accuse ? That asserting a free and final
acquittance of all sin, a pardon of the curse,
which yet will never encourage any of these
to sin that live in the assurance of this love.
Oh ! no ; and these general words do in-
clude it too, nothing present nor to come,
&c. So it is carried clear, and is the satisfy-
ing comfort of all that Jesus Christ hath
drawn after him, and united in his love.
It is enough ; whatsoever they may be se-
parated from, the things, or persons, dearest
in this world ; it is no matter, the jewel is
safe, none can take my Christ from me ; and
I safe in him, as his purchase, none can take
me from him. And being still in his Iov2,
and through him in the Father's love, that
is sufficient. What can I fear ? What can
I want ? All other hazards signify nothing ;
how little value are they of ! And for how
little a while am I in danger of them ! Me-
thinks all should look on a believer with an
emulous eye, and wish his estate more than
a king's.
Alas ! poor creatures, rich men, great men,
428
SERMON XVIII.
princes and kings, what vain things are they
that you embrace and cleave to ! Whatso-
ever they be, soon must you part ; can you
say of any of them, Who shall separate us ?
Storms may arise, and scatter ships that sail
fairly together in fair weather : thou mayest
be removed, by public commotions and ca-
lamities, from thy sweet dwellings, and so-
cieties, and estates, &c. You may even live
to see, and seek your parting. At last you
must part, for you must die : then farewell
parks and palaces, gardens and honours, and
even crowns themselves ; then dearest friends,
children and wife, must be parted with.*
And what hast thou left, poor soul, that hast
not Christ, but that which thou wouldest glad-
ly part with, and canst not ? the condemning
guilt of a'.l thy sins.
But the soul that is in Christ, when other
things are pulled away, he feels little or no-
thing ; he cleaves to Christ, and these sepa-
rations pain him not. Yea, when that great
separatist, death, comes, that breaks all
other unions, even that of the soul and body,
yet so f.ir is it from separating the believer's
soul from its beloved Lord Jesus, that, on
the contrary, it carries it into the nearest union
with him, and fullest enjoyment of him for
ever.
SERMON XVIII.
ISAIAH lix. 1, 2.
Behold, the Lord's hand is not shortened
that it cannot save, neither his ear heavy
that it cannot hear. But your iniqui-
ties have separated between you and your
God, and yovr sins have hid his face
from you, that he will not hear.
Ornvain minds are naturally fruitful in
nothing more than in mistakes of God ; foi
the most part we think not on him, anc
when we do it, we fancy him according t
our own affections, which are wholly pervers
and crooked.
Men commonly judge it a vain thing t_
spend much pains and time in worshipping
him ; and if they ire convinced in this, anc
tied to it by the profession of his name, then
they think all religion is a shell of externa
diligences, and observances, and count i
strange if this be not accepted. In the for
nier chapter we find this, in the prophet';
contest with the people about their fasting
and their opinion of it ; he cuts up their sa
orifices, and lets them see what was within
the skin was sound and looked well bu
being opened, the entrails were found rotten
And here he enters into another contest
• I.inqucnda telltis ct daunts et placens ttxor, &c.
against the latent atheism of their hearts ;
who after their manner of seeking God, not
inding him, and not being delivered, are
eady to think that he either cannot, or will
not help, and rather rest on that gross mis-
ake, than inquire into themselves for the
true cause of their continuing calamities ;
they incline rather to think it is some in-
disposition in God to help, than what it
truly is, a want of reformation in them-
selves that hinders it. It is not likely that
they would say thus, nor speak it out in plain
terms, no, nor possibly not speak it formally
and distinctly within, not so much as in
their thoughts, and yet they might have a
confused, dark conceit of this. And much
of the atheism of man's heart is of this fa-
shion ; not formed into resolved propositions,
but latent, * in confused notions of it, scarce
discernible by himself ; at least, not searched
out and discerned in his own breast ; there
they are, and lie sees them not : not written
assertions, but flying fumes, filling the soul,
and hindering it to read the characters of
God that are writ upon the conscience.
Impenitency of men, in any condition, and
particularly under distress, is from the want
of clear apprehensions and deep persuasions
of God, of his just anger provoked by their
sin, and of his sweetness and readiness to
forgive and embrace a returning sinner ; his
sovereign power, able to rid them out of the
greatest trouble ; his ear quick enough to
hear the cries, yea, the least whispering of a
humbled heart in the lowest deep of his sor-
row, and his arm long enough to reach them,
and strong enough to draw them forth. He
that comes unto God must believe that he is,
says the apostle. So certainly he that bel
lieves that, must come ; it will sweetly con-
strain him ; he cannot but come that is so
persuaded. Were men's hearts much im-
pressed with that belief in all their troubles,
they would eye men less and God more, and
without delay they would fasten upon the
church's resolution, Hos. vi. 1. " Come
and let us return unto the .Lord ; for he hath
torn, and he will heal us ,• he hath smitten,
and he will bind us up," &c. And this is
the very thing that the prophet would here
persuade to by this present doctrine ; and
having impleaded them guilty, he sets them
a copy of humble confession, verse 12, &c.
Hence the frequent complaints in the Psalm,
Why hides t thou thy self} So Psalm xxii.
2, / cry, but no hearing.
In the words of these two verses, these two
things appear, A sad condition, and the true
cause of it.
The condition, I think I have reason to call
sad; it is God hiding his face that he will not
hear. This may be the personal estate of
his children, or the public estate of his church.
From a soul he hides his face, not so much
* Ezek. viii. Behind the u-all.
SERMON XVIII.
in the withdrawing of sensible comforts and.iii. 43, 44, '•' Thou hast covered with an<'er
sweet tastes of joy, which to many are scarce and persecuted us; thou hast slain, thou hast
not ^pitied; thou hast cohered thyself with
a cloud, that our prayer should not pass
through." Still, while that door stands open
known, and to such as do know them, com-
monly do not continue very long ; but it is
a suspension of that lively influence of his
divine power, for raising the mind to the
contemplation of him, and communion with
him in prayer and meditation, which yet
may be where those relishes and senses of
joy are not ; and the returns of it appear in
heating down the power of sin, or abating
and subduing it, making the heart more
pure and heavenly, more to live by faith in
Christ, to be often at the throne of grace,
and to receive gracious answers, supplies of
wants, and assistances against temptations.
Now, when there is a cessation and obstruc-
tion of these, and such like workings, the
face of God is hid, the soul is at a loss,
seeks still, and cannot find him whom he
loveth. And in this condition it cannot
take comfort in other things ; they are too
low. 1 1 is a higher and nobler desire than
to be satisfied or diverted with the childish
things that even men delight in that know
not God ; it is a love sickness, which no-
thing can cure but the presence and love of
the party loved. Yea, nothing can so much
as allay the pain, and give an interval of ease,
or recover a fainting fit, but some good word
or look, or at least some kind message from
him. Set thee in a palace, and all delights
ubout thee, and a crown on thy head, yet if
his love has ceased on thy heart, these are
all nothing without him. It was after David
there is hope and remedy for other evils ; but
that being shut, what can a people, or a soul
expect, but growing troubles, one sorrow up-
on the back of another ? Yea, that is the
great trouble, the hiding of his face, and re-
fusing to hear. Observe Job xxxiv. 23 :
" When he giveth peace, who then can make
trouble ?" Now, the other in the same terms
would hav^been, " When he makes trouble,
who can give peace ? But instead it is,
" When he hides his face, who then can be-
hold him ?" No peace but in beholding him,
and nothing but trouble ; that is the grand
trouble when he hides his face, and it is ex-
pressed in both cases, whether it be personal
or national, whether against a nation or a
man only.
This is the thing wherein the strength of
other troubles lies, that gives them weight,
when they impart and signify thus much,
that the face of God is hid from a soul or a
people.
We ought to inquire if this be not our
condition at this time ; hath he not hid his
face from us ? Are we not left in the dark,
that we know not which way to turn us ?
Either we must sit still and do nothing, for
if we stir we do but rush one upon another,
as in darkness, contesting each to have the
way, and yet when we have it given us, we
was advanced to his kingdom, and is in the | know not well which way to go ; and we
Psalm of the dedication of his royal house,
that he said, " Thou didst hide thy face,
and I was troubled," Ps. xxx. 7- " All
is dark, all the shining marble, and the
gold and azure, lose their lustre, when thou
art not here dwelling with me."
And thus for the church, God is a proper
light, the beauty, the life of it. Deck it
with all this world's splendour, with all the
dresses of pompous worship ; these are not
its genuine beauty. And they provoke him,
who is its ornament, (as is Jer. ii. 32,) to
depart. But give it the native purity and
beauty of holy ministers, and ordinances well
regulated, yet even that is but a dead come-
liness, proportion, and feature, without life,
when God is absent.
And for matter of deliverances and work-
ing for her, which is here the thing in hand,
none can do any thing in that, not the wis-
est nor the best of men, with all their com-
bined wit and strength, when he retires and
comes not forth, doth not shew himself on
the behalf of his people,, and work their works
for them.
These have, it may be, some kind of prayer
possibly, they offer at extraordinaries, and
yet obtain nothing, are not heard ; the sad-
dest note in all the song of Lamentations,
think to be cleared, but it fails us, as in this
chapter, ver. 9, " We wait for light, but be-
hold obscurity ; for brightness, but we walk
in darkness ; we grope for the wall as blind,
and stumble at noon-day as in the night ;"
our counsels strangely darkened, and no right
understanding one of another. By all de-
bates little or .no clearing of things attained,
but our passions are more inflamed, and par-
ties are farther off, the light of sound judg-
ment gone, and with it the heat of love, in-
stead of which that miserable, infernal heat,
heat without light, mutual hatreds and re-
vilings, both sides (verbally at least) agreeing
in the general terms both of their desires and
designs, and yet falling out about modes and
fashions of them. And to say no more of
parties, the enemies of religion on both hands,
right and left, in action and in power, and
only those that love that, we conceive is the
way of truth, standing as a naked prey to
whether of the two shall prevail. Desires
and prayers we have presented, and see as
yet no appearance of an issue, hut farther con.
fusions, even fasting to strife and debate.
And where are there any that look like per-
sons to stand in the gap, lifting up holy hands,
without wrath or doubting ? Hearts are still
unhumbled, and lives as unreformed aa
SERMON XVIII.
intestine troubles are most likely 1 There remains no question in point of diffi.
430
ever ; new
to arise, few or none laying it to heart, and
with calm, lowly spirits mourning before God
for it ; Ephraim against Manasseh, and
Manasseh against Ephraim, " and they both
against Judah , and for all this his anger is hard for me ?" saith the Lord in the prophet,
not turned away, but his hand is stretched
out still."
But generally men ought to be less in des-
canting one on another, and more in search,
ing and inquiring each into himself, even
where it may seem zeal, yet nature and pas-
sion may more easily let in the other ; but
this self-search and self-censure, i» an uneasy
task, the most unpleasant of all things to our
carnal self-loving hearts ; but the heavy hand
of (rod shall never turn from us, nor his gra-
cious face turn towards us, till there is more
of this amongst us.
Most say their prayers, and as they are
little worth, they look little after them, in-
quire not what becomes of them. But, my
brethren, would we continue to call, and find
favourable answers, we must be more within ;
the heart made a temple to God, wherein sa-
crifices do ascend ; but that they may b2 ac-
cepted, it must be purged of idols, nothing
left in any corner, though never so secret, to
stir the jealousy of our God, who sees through
all. Oh, happy that heart that is, as Jacob's
house, purged, in which no more idols are to
be found, but the holy God dwelling there
alone as in his holy temple.
Behold, 1he Lord's hand is not shorten-
ed, &c. Much of all knowledge lies in the
knowledge of causes, and in practical tilings
much of the right ordering them depends on
it ; the true cause of a disease found out is
half the cure. Here we have the miseries of
an afflicted people reduced to their real cause ;
that which is not the cause is first removed.
Behold, the Lord's hand is not shortened, &c.
We are not only to be untaught this error
that we think not so, but to be taught to be-
lieve and think on that truth, that God is
still the same in power and goodness, to keep
up the notion of it in our hearts, so we may
call in past experiences, and relations of God's
former workings for his people, and that with
much use and comfort. He that brought
forth his people out of Egypt with an out-
stretched arm, as still they are reminded of
that deliverance by the prophets, and called
to look on it, as the great instance and pledge
of their restorement by the same hand, can
again deliver his people when at the lowest ;
Isa. 1. 2, where the like words to these.
And in this belief we shall not faint in the
time of deep distress, our own or the church's ;
knowing the unalterable, invincible, infinite
power of our God, that all the strength of
all enemies is nothing, and less than no-
thing to his, their devices knots of straw.
What is it that is to be done for his church,
if her and his glory be inteiested in it ?
culty, that hath no place with him. The
more difficulty, yea, impossible for us or
any human strength, the more fit for him ;
" because it is hard for you, shall it also be
And where Jeremiah uses that argument in
prayer, he hath his answer returned in the
same words, as the echo to the prayer, re-
sounding from heaven, Jer. xxxii. 17, 27,
and that in relaiion to the great reduction ot
the Jews from Babylon, as is expressly pro-
mised, ver36, 37, &c. And there the prophet
gives that first great example of di\Mi3
power, the forming of the world, ver. 17>
" Behold, thou hast made the heaven and
the earth by thy great power."
Men think it an easy, common belief,
and that none doubt of the omnipotency of
God. But Oh ! the undaunted confidence
it would give to the heart, being indeed
firmly believed, and wisely used and applied
to particular exigencies. Men either doubt,
or which, upon the matter, for the use of
it is all one, they forget who the Lord is,
when their hearts misgive them, because or
the church's weakness and the enemies'
power. What is that upon the matter ?
Remember whose is the church, God's, and
what his power is, and then see if thou canst
find any cause of fear. Isa. xli. 14. " Fear
not, thou worm, Jacob," and ye men few,
or " weak men of Israel, (so the word is,)
I will help thee, saith the Lord, and thy Re-
deemer, the Holy One of Israel." So Isa. li.
12. " I, even I, am he that comf rteth
you ; (there is the strength of it ;) who art
thou, that thou shouldst be afraid of a man
that shall die, and of the son of man, which
shall be made as grass ? And forgettest
(ver. 13.) the Lord thy Maker that stretched
forth the heavens, and laid the foundations
of the earth," &c. Do but think aright en
him, and then see if it be possible for thee
to fear. All thy little doubts and despon-
dencies of mind will fly and vanish away
before one clear thought of thy God. Though
the world were turning upside down, it shall
go well with them that fear him.
And as this apprehension of God strength-
ens faith, so it quickens prayer, it stirs thej
up to seek to him for help, when thou know-
est and rememberest that there it is. There
is help in him, power enough, and no want
of readiness and good-will neither. If wj
apply ourselves to seek him aright, his hand
is as strong to save, and his ear as quick to
hear as ever. And in this that his ear is
not heavy, is both signified his speedy and
certain knowledge of all requests sent up to
him, and his gracious inclination to receive
them. Now these persuasions do undoubt-
edly draw up the heart towards him.
Again, as they strengthen faith and quick-
en prayer they teach us repentance, direct
SERMON XVIII.
431
us inward to self-examination, to the search-
ing, and finding out and purging out of sin
when deliverance is delayed ; for we are sure
it stops not upon either of these on God's
part, either shortness of his hand or dulness
of his ear. Whence is it then ? Certainly
it must be somewhat on our side that worki
against us and prejudices our desires. So
here, thus yon see the clear aim of it, " Be
hold the Lord's hand is not shortened tha
it cannot save, nor his ear heavy that i
cannot hear." What is it then that hinders ?
Oh ! it is this, out of all doubt, Your ini-
quities separate.
Old sins unrepented of, and new sins,
still added, as all unrepentant sinners do
now this separates between you and God,
for he is a holy God, a just God, hates ini-
quity ; and between you and your God that
pleads no connivance at your sins, but rather
nearer inspection and sharper punishment —
he will be sanctified in those that are near
him, in them especially ; their sin is great-
ened much by that relation, your God, to
sin against him so grossly, so continuedly,
with so high a hand, and so impenitenl
hearts, not reclaimed by all his mercies, by
the remembrance of his covenant made with
you, and mercies bestowed on you, nor by
the fear of his judgments threatened, nor by
the feeling of them inflicted ; no returning
nor relenting, not of his own people to their
God. Sure, you must be yet more punished.
" You only have I known of all the families
of the earth, therefore will I punish you for
all your iniquities." " I let others escape
with many things that I cannot pass in you ;
you fast and pray, it may be, you howl
and keep a noise, but you amend nothing ;
forsake not one sin, for all your sufferings,
and for all your moanings and cries ; you
would be delivered, but do not part with
one of your lusts, or wicked customs, even
for a deliverance, and so the quarrel remains
still. It is that that separates, is a huge
wall betwixt us, betwixt me and your prayers,
and betwixt you and my helping hand, and
though I do hear and could help, yet I will
not, till this wall be down ; you shall not
see me, nor find by any gracious sign that 1
do not this, but either a course of careless
walking, and many little unlawful liberties
taken to themselves, that will rise and
hear you." This hides his face that he will
not hear.
Tliis way God hath established in his or-
dinary methods with his people ; though
sometimes he uses his own privilege, yel
usually he links sin and calamity together,
and repentance and deliverance together.
Sin separates and hides his face, not only
from a people that professes his name, but
even from a soul that really bears his name
stamped upon it. Though it cannot fully
and for ever cut off" such a soul, yet in part,
and for a time it may, yea, to be sure, it
will separate, and hide the face of God
from them. Their daily inevitable frailties
gather as a cloud, and hide the face of God •
or some one gross sin, especially if often
reiterated, will prove as a firm stone-wall
or rather as a bra/en- wall, built up by their
own hands betwixt them and heaven, and
will not be so easily dissolved or broke down ;
and yet, till that be, the light of his coun-
tenance, who is the life of the soul, will be
eclipsed and withheld from it.
And this considered, (besides that law of
love that will forbid so foul ingratitude, yet,
I say, this considered, even our own interest,)
will make us wary to sin ; though we were
sure not to be altogether separated from the
love of God by it ; yet, thou that hast any
persuasion of that love, darest thou venture
upon any known sin ? Thou art not hazard-
less and free from all damage by it, if thou
hast need of that argument to restrain thee ;
then, before thou run upon it, sit down and
reckon the expense, see what it will cost
thee if thou do commit it. Thou knowest
that once it cost the heart blood of thy Re-
deemer to expiate it, and is it a light matter
to thee ? And though that paid all that
score, nothing thou canst suffer being able
to do any thing that way, yet as unavoida-
ble present fruit of it, it will draw on this
damage, " thou shalt be .sure for a time,
it may be for a long time, possibly most of
thy time, near all thy days it may darken
much that love of God to thee," which if
thou doest but esteem of, think on it, it
changes not in him, but a sad change will
iin bring on thee, as to thy sight and appre-
hension of it ; many a sweet hour of blest
.•ornmunion with thy God shalt thou miss,
and either be dead and stupid in that want,
and mourn after him, and yet find thyself,
and sighs, and tears hold out, the door shut,
yea, a dead wall raised betwixt thee and him,
and at best much straitening and pains to
take it down again ; contrary to other walls
and buildings that are far more ea<ily pulled
down than built up ; but this a great deal
easier built ap than pullt d down. True, thy
God could cast it down with a word, and it
is his free grace that must do it, otherwise
thou couldst never remove it ; yet will he
have thee feel thy own handy-work, and
inow thy folly. Thou must be at pains to
dig at it, and may be cost thee broken bones
in taking it down, pieces of it falling heavy
and sad upon thy conscience, and crushing
thee, as David cried out at that work, Psalm
li. 8, for a healing word from God, " Make
me to hear joy and gladness, that the bones
which thou hast broken may rejoice." It
will force thee to say, " Ofool that I was ;
vhat meant I ? Oh ! it is good keeping
iear God, and raising no divisions. What
are sins ? Fa!se delights but make ado, and
432 SERMON XVIII.
have ado, a man to provide his own vexa-
tion." Now this distance from God, and all
this turmoiling, and breaking, and crying ere
he appear again, consider, if any pleasure of
sin can countervail this damage ; sure, when
thou art not out of thy wits, thou wilt never
make such a bargain for all the pleasure thou
must make out of any sin, to breed thyself
all this pains, and all this grief; at once,
to displease thy God, and displease thyself,
and make a partition between him and thee.
Oh ! sweet and safe ways of holiness, walk-
ing with God in his company and favour ;
he that orders his conversation aright, he
sees the loving-kindness of the Lord ; it
is shewn to him ; he lives in the sight of it.
But if any such separation is made, yet,
is it thy great desire to have it removed ?
Why, then, there is hope. See to it, labour
to break down, and pray to him to help thee,
and he will put to his hand, and then it
must fall ; and in all thy sense of separation,
look to him that brake down the middle wall,
Eph. ii. 14. There it is spoken of, as be-
twixt men, Jews and Gentiles, but so as it
was also between the Gentiles and God, se-
parated from his people, and from himself;
ver. 16, " To reconcile both to God in one
body;" and ver. 18, "Through him we
have access by one spirit to the Father ;" and
then he adds, that they were no more stran-
gers and foreigners, dwelling on the other
side of the wall, vxgoutoi, as the word is, but
fellow -citizens, &c.
Oh ! that we knew more what it were to
live in this sweet society, in undivided fellow-
ship with God. Alas ! how little is under-
stood this living in him, separated from sin
and this world, which otherwise do separate
from him ; solacing our hearts in liis love,
and despising the base, muddy delights that
the world admires ; hoping for that new
Jerusalem, where none of these walls of sin,
nor any one stone of them are, and for that
bright day wherein there is no cloud nor
mist to hide our sun from us !
Now for the condition of the church, know
sin to be the great obstructer of its peace,
making him to withdraw his hand, and hide
his face, and to turn away his ear from our
prayers, and loath our fasts. Isa. i. 15,
Jer. xiv. 12. The quarrel stands ; sin not
repented and removed, the wall is still stand-
ing ; oaths and Sabbath-breaking, and pride,
and oppression, and heart-burning, still re-
maining. Oh! what a noise of religion and
reformation ; all sides are fi»r the name of it,
and how little of the thing ! The gospel
itself is despised, grown stale, as trivial
doctrine. Oh ! my beloved, if I could
speak many hours without intermission, all
my cry would be, " Repent and pray. Let
us search and try our ways, and turn unto
the Lord our God." Oh ! what walls of
every one's sin are set to it ! Dig diligently
to bring down thine own ; and for these huge
walls of public, national guiltiness, if thou
canst do nothing to them more, compass
them about as Jericho, and look up to
heaven for their downfall. Cry, " Lord, these
we ourselves have reared, but without thee
who can bring them down? Lord, throw them
down for us ; a touch of thy hand, a word of
thy mouth, will make them fall." Were we
less busied in impertinencies, and more in
this most needful work, it might do some
?ood ; who knows but the Lord might make
bis own way clear, and return and visit us,
and make his face to shine that we might be
saved ?
AN EXPOSITION
OF
THE CREED.
1 TIM. iii. 9.
Holding the mystery of faith in a pure
conscience.
A HAT which was the apostle's practice, as
he expresses it, 1 Cor. ix. 22, is the standing
duty of all the ministers of the same gospel :
" To the weak to become as weak, to gain
the weak ; and all things to all men, that if
by any means they may save some." And
truly one main part of observance of that
rule, is in descending to the instruction of the
most ignorant in the principles of the Christian
religion. That I aim at, at this time, is a very
brief and plain exposition of the articles of our
faith, as we have them in that summary con-
fession. Not staying you at all on the anti-
quity and authority of it, both which are
confessed ; whether it was penned by the
apostles, or by others in their time, or soon
after it, it doth very clearly and briefly con«-
tain the main of their divine doctrine.
But though it be altogether consonant
with the Scriptures, yet not being a part of
the canon of them, I choose these words as
pertinent to our intended explication of it :
they are indeed here as they stand in the con-
text, a rule for deacons ; but without ques-
tion, taken in general, they express the great
duty of all that are Christians, to keep the
mystery of faith, &c.
You see clearly in them a rich jewel, and
a precious cabinet fit for it ; the mystery of
faith laid up, and kept in a pure conscience.
And these two are not only suitable, but in-
separable, as we see in the first chapter of this
epistle, ver. 10. ; they are preserved and lost
together ; they suffer the same shipwreck :
the casting away of the one is the shipwreck
of the other ; if the one perish, the other can-
not escape. Every believer is the temple of
God ; and as the tables of the law were kept
in the ark, this' pure conscience is the ark
that holds the mystery of faith. You think
you are believers, you do not question that,
and would take it ill that others should ; it
2E
is very hard to convince men of unbelief, di-
rectly and in itself: but if you do believe
this truth, that the only receptacle of saving
faith is a purified conscience, then I beseech
you, question yourselves concerning that ;
being truly answered in it, it will resolve you
touching your faith, which you are so loath
to question in itself. Are your consciences
pure ? Have you a living hatred and anti-
pathy against all impurity ? Then sure
faith is there ; for it is the peculiar virtue of
faith to purify the heart, Acts xv. 9, and the
heart so purified is the proper residence of
faith, where it dwells and rests as in it snatu-
ral place. But have you consciences that can
lodge pride, and lust, and malice, and cove-
tousness, and such like pollutions ? Then
be no more so impudent as to say you believe,
nor deceive yourselves so far as to think you
do. The blood of Christ never speaks peace
to any conscience, but the same that it puri-
fies " from dead works to serve the living
God," Heb. ix. 13, 14. As that blood is a
sacrifice to appease God's wrath, so it is a
laver to wash our souls, and to serve both
ends ; it is as was the blood of legal sacrifices,
both offered up to God and sprinkled upon
us, as both are expressed in the apostle's
words there. Do not think that God will
throw this jewel of faith into a sty or kennel,
a conscience full of defilement and unclean-
ness. Therefore, if you have any mind to
those comforts and peace that faith brings
along with it, be careful to lodge it where it
delights to dwell, in a pure conscience. Not-
withstanding the unbelieving world mocks
the name of purity ; yet study you above all,
that purity and holiness that may make your
souls a fit abode for faith, and that peace
which it worketh, and that Holy Spirit that
works both in you.
Faith is either the doctrine which we be-
lieve, or that grace by which we believe that
doctrine : here I conceive it is both met and
united in the soul, as they say of the under-
standing in the schools, 1 'ntelligendo Jit illad
quod intelligit ; so faith apprehending its
434
AN EXPOSITION
proper object, is made one with it. Faith is
kept in a pure conscience ; that is, both that
pure doctrine of the gospel which faith re-
ceives, and that faith which receives it, are
together fitly placed and preserved, when
they are laid up in a pure conscience. The
doctrine of faith cannot be received into nor
laid up in the soul, but by that faith that be-
lieves it, arid that faith hath no being with-
out believing that doctrine ; and both are
fitly called, the mystery of faith. The doc-
trine is mysterious, and it is a mysterious
work to beget faith in the heart to receive it
for the things we must believe are very high
and heavenly, and our hearts are earthly ant
base till the Spirit renew them. In our con-
fession of faith we have both expressed ; the
first word is a profession of faith, which re-
ceives the doctrine as true — I believe, anc
the articles themselves contain the sum o;
the doctrine relieved : and if we that profess
this faith have within us pure consciences,
wherein the mystery of faith, the doctrine o:
faith believed, and the grace of faith believ-
ing it, both together as one, may reside,
dwell, and be preserved ; then is the tex
completely answered in the present subject.
Remember, then, since we profess this
faith, which is the proper seat of faith. No
our books, our tongues only, or memories,
or j udgment, but our conscience ; and noi
our natural conscience defiled and stuffed
with sin, but renewed and sanctified by grace,
holding the mystery of faith in a pure con-
science.
I believe in God the Father.
Not to insist here on the nature of faith,
taking it as comprehensively as we can, it is
no other but a supernatural belief of God, and
confidence in him. Whether we call God,
or the word of God, the object of faith, there
is no material difference, for it is God in the
word, as revealed by the word, that is that
object. God is that veritas incomplexa (as
they speak) that faith embraces ; and the
word, the veritas complexa, that contains
what we are to conceive of God, and believe
concerning him. As, in the gospel, the pe-
culiar object of that faith that saves fallen
man, it is all one, whether we say it is Christ,
or the promises : for it is Christ revealed and
held forth in the promises that faith lays
hold on ; " In him are all the promises of
God yea, and in him amen." So that it is
all one act of faith that lays hold on Christ,
and on the promises, for they are all one, he
is in them ; and therefore faith rests on
them, because they include Christ who is our
rest and our peace, as a man at once receives
a ring and the precious stone that is set in it.
This once rightly understood, any further
dispute about placing faith in the understand-
ing or the will, is possibly in itself not at all
needful ; sure I am it is no way useful for
you. Take heed of carnal, profane presump-
tion, for that will undo you : and labour to
be sure of such a faith as dwells in a pure
conscience, and it will be sure not to deceive
you.
That confidence which this expression
bears, believing in God, supposes certainly
(as all agree) a right belief concerning God,
both that he i&, and what he is, according as
the word reveals him, especially what he is
relating to us ; these three we have together,
Heb. xi. 6. " He that cometh to God, must
believe that God' is, and that he is a reward-
er of them that diligently seek him. 1. That
he is. 2. To trust his word, believing that
he is true to his promises, a rewarder of them
that seek him. 3. Upon these follows com-
ing to him, which is this, believing in that
God that the Psalm speaks of, that reliance
and resting of the soul upon him that results
from that right belief concerning him, and
trusting the testimony of his word, as it re-
veals him.
We have discoursed of the attributes of
God elsewhere, as also of the Trinity, which
is here expressed in these words : / believe
in God the Father, the Son, and the Holy
Ghost. That sublime mystery is to be cau-
tiously treated of, and rather humbly to be
admired than curiously dived into. The day
will come (truly a day, for here we are beset
with the gloomy nightly shades of ignorance)
wherein we shall see him as he is. In the
mean time, let us devoutly worship him, as
he has revealed himself to us ; for this is the
true way to that heavenly country, where we
shall see him face to face. And it is our in-
terest here to believe the trinity of persons in
the unity of the Godhead, and to trust in them
as such, for this is the spring of all our hops,
that the middle of the three became our
Mediator, and the Holy Spirit our guide and
teacher, and the Father reconciles us to him-
self by the Son, and renews us by his Spirit.
Father. First, the Father of his only-
begotten Son Christ, and through him our
Father by the grace of adoption. And s >
Christ does clearly insinuate the order of our
filiation — I ascend to my Father and
your Father, my God and your God. He
says, not to our Father, but to my Father
and your Father, first mine, and then yours
through me.
Almighty. This also belongs to the at-
tributes of God, so we shall be but short on
it here.
Almighty, able in himself to do all things,
and the source of all power in others, all
:he power in the creature being derived frorp
iim ; so that it cannot altogether equal his,
nor resist him, no, nor at all be without him.
Whosover they be that boast most in their
own strength in any kind, and swell highest
'n conceit of it, are yet but as a brittle glass
n the hand of God ; he can not only break
t to pieces by the strength of his hand, but
OF THE CREED.
-Lift
If he do but withdraw his hand from support- indeed strong corruptions within, and stronz
mg it, it will fall and break of itself. temptations without ; yet none of these art
nf^i f !.„,. .« ^,».j „„,.!!, rnu~ cs _m_if_i . '. / """c ui mesc arc
almighty, as thy God is. What is it thou
would have done, that he cannot do if he
think fit ? And if he think it not fit, if thou
art one of his children, thou wilt think with
him, thou wilt reverence his wisdom, and
rest satisfied with his will. This is be-
lieving indeed ; the rolling all our desires
and burdens over upon an Almighty God ;
and where this is, it cannot choose but esta-
blish the heart in the midst of troubles, and
give it a calm within in the midst of the
greatest storms.
And try what other confidences you will,
they shall prove vain and lying in the dav
of trouble ; he that thinks to quiet his mind,
and find rest -by worldly comfort, is, as So-
lomon compares his drunkard, as one thai
lies down in the midst of the sea, that sleep,
eth on the top of a mast ; he can but have
unsettled rest and repose that lies there, " but
tie that trusteth in the Lord, is as Mount
Sion, that cannot be removed." When we
lean upon other props besides God, they
prove broken reeds that not only fail, but
pierce the hand that leans on them, Jer.
Maker of heaven and earth. The Son
and the Spirit were, with the Father, au-
thors of the creation ; but it is ascribed to
the Father particularly, in regard of the order
and manner of their working. Whether
natural reason may evince the creation of the
world, we will not dispute ; we know that
he that had very much of that, and is the
great master of it in the schools, could not
see it by that light ; yet there is enough in
reason to answer all the false cavils of pro-
fane men, and very much to justify the truth
of this we believe. However, we must endea-
vour to believe it by divine faith, according
to that of the apostle, " By faith we believe
that the worlds were framed by the word of
God." And this is the first article we meet
withal in the Scriptures, and our faith is
put to it in a very high point in the very en-
trance.
In the beginning God made the heaven
and (he earth, speaking like himself ; it is
not proved by demonstrations nor any kind
of arguments, but asserted by the authority
of God : and with that which begins the
books of the law, John begins his gospel ;
that, upon His word that by his word made
the world, we may believe that he did so.
This is fitly added to the title of Almighty
as a work of Almighty power, and therefore
a clear testimony of it, and both together will
suit with our profession of believing in him ;
for this is a main support of our faith, to be
persuaded of his power on whom we trust.
Our God is able to deliver us (said they) ;
and Abraham, the apostle says, he offered
up his son, accounting, or reasoning with
liimself, or laying his reckoning, that God
was able to raise him from the dead.
We make more bold to speak out our own
questioning the love and good-will of God,
because we think we have some reason in
that from our own unworthiness, but if we
would sound our own hearts, we should often
find in our distrusts some secret doubting of
God's power. Can God prepare a table in
the wilderness ? said they ; though accus-
tomed to miracles, yet still unbelieving. We
think we are strongly enough persuaded of
this, but our hearts deceive us, qua scimus
cum necesse non est, ea in necessitate nesci-
mus, S. Bern. The heart is deceitful, Gen.
xvii. 9, where he is speaking of trusting.
It is not for nothing that God by his pro-
phets so often inculcates this doctrine of his
power, and this great instance of it, the cre-
ation, when he promises great deliverances-
to his church, and the destruction of their
enemies, Isa. xlv. 12, and li. 12. What
can be too hard for him, that found it not
too hard to make a world of nothing ? If
thou look on the public, the enemies of the
church are strong ; if on thyself, thou hast | I may plant -the heavens, and lay the founda-
There is yet another thing in this arti-
cle, that serves farther to uphold our faith—
that of necessity ; he that made the world
ay his power, doth likewise rule it by his
providence. It is so great a fabric, as can-
not be upheld and governed by any less
rower, than that which made it. He dia
not frame this world as the carpenter his ship,
to put it into other hands and look no more
after it ; but as he made it, he is the continual
>ilot of it, sits still at the helm and guides
t, yea, he commands the winds and seas, and
they obey him. And this serves much foi
;he comfort of the godly, but I cannot here
.usist on it.
And in Jesus Christ.
The two great works of God by which he
s known to us, are creation and redemp.
.ion ; which is a new or second creation.
The Son of God, as God, was with the Fa-
ther as the worker of the former, but as God-
man, he is the author of the latter. St.
John begins his gospel with the first, and
Tom that passes on to the second : " In
the beginning was the Word," &c. ver. 1 ;
" By him were all things made." But ver.
[4, the other is expressed, ' The Word was
made flesh, and he dwelt among us," had a
tent like ours, and made of the same materials.
He adds, " He was full of grace and truth,"
and for that end, as there follows, " that we
might all receive of his fulness, grace for
grace." And this is that great work of new
creation ; therefore the prophet Isaiah, li. 16,
foretelling this great work from the Lord's own
mouth, speaks of it in these terms : " That
436
AN EXPOSITION
tion of the earth, and say unto Sion, Thou
art my people." That making of a new
people to himself in Christ, is as the fram-
ing of heaven and earth. Now this restore-
ment by Jesus Christ, supposes the ruin and
misery of man by his fall, that sin and death
under which he is born. This we all seem
to know and acknowledge, and well we may,
for we daily feel the woeful fruits of that
bitter root ; but the truth is, the greatest part
of us are not fully convinced, and therefore
do not consider of this gulph of wretchedness
into which we are fallen. If we were, there
would be more cries amongst us for help to
be drawn out and delivered from it ; this
great deliverer, this Saviour, would be of
more use, and of more esteem with us. But
I cannot now insist on that point.
Only consider that this makes the neces-
sity of a Mediator. The disunion and dis-
tance, that sin hath made betwixt God and
man, cannot be made up but by a Mediator,
one to come betwixt ; so that there is now
no believing in God the Father, but by this
believing in Jesus his Son, no appearing
without horror, yea without perdition, before
so just a Judge highly offended, but by the
intervention of so powerful a Reconciler, able
to satisfy and appease him ; and he tells it us
plainly and graciously, that we mistake not
our way ; " No man comes unto the Father
but by me."
Few are our thoughts concerning God, and
returning to him ; but if we have any, this
is our unhappiness, that naturally we are
subject to leave out Christ in them.
We think there is something to be done ;
we talk of repentances, and prayers, and
amendments, though we have not these nei-
ther ; but if we had these, there is yet one
thing necessary above all these, that we for-
get— there is absolute need of a Mediator to
make our peace, and reduce us into favour
with God, one that must for that end do and
suffer for us, what we can neither do nor
suffer ; though we could shed rivers of tears,
they cannot wash out the stain of any one
sin ; yea, there is some pollution in our very
tears, so that they themselves have need to
be washed in the blood of Jesus Christ.
Jesus Christ. Our anointed Saviour,
anointed to be our King, our great High
Priest, and our Prophet, and in all those our
Saviour ; our Prophet, to teach us the way
of salvation ; our Priest, to purchase it for
us ; and our King, to lead and protect us in
the way, and to bring us safe to the end of
it. Thus is his name full of sweetness and
comfort, mel in ore, in aure melos, in corde
medicina, as Bernard speaks. It is a rich
ointment, and in the preaching of the gospel
an ointment poured forth, diffusing its fra-
grant smell, for which the virgins, the chaste
purified souls of believers love him ; such as
have their senses exercised, as the apostle
speaks, their spiritual smelling not obstruct
ed with the pollutions of the world, but quick
and open to receive and be refreshed with
the smell of this precious name of Jesus
Christ.
His only Son. Other sons he hath, an-
gels and men by creation and adoption ; but
this his ouly-begotten Son as God, by eter-.
nal and inerrable generation, and as man pe-
culiarly the Son of God, both in regard of
his singular, unexampled conception by the
Holy Ghost, and by that personal union with
the Deity which accompanied that concep-
tion, and by that fulness of aU grace which
flowed from that union. The unfolding of
these would require a long time, and after
all, more would remain unsaid and uncon-
ceived by us ; for " his generation who can
declare ?"
Let us remember this, that our sonship is
the product of his : John i. 14, " He is the
only -begotten Son of God ;" and yet, ver. 12,
" To as many as received him he gave this
privilege, to be the sons of God."
Our Lord. Both by our loyal subjection
to him, and our peculiar interest in him ;
these go together ; willing subjection and
obedience to his laws is an inseparable com-
panion, and therefore a certain evidence, of
our interest in his grace.
Conceived by the Holy Ghost.
" This is that great mystery of godliness,
God manifested in the flesh ;" the King of
Glory after a manner divesting himself of
his royal robes, and truly putting on the form
of a servant, the Holy Ghost framing him a
body in the Virgin's ,womb ; not that it was
impossible to have made his human nature
sinless in the ordinary way, (though the
schools usually give that reason), but that,
by that miraculous and peculiar manner of
birth, he might be declared more than man,
as being a way more congruous both to the
greatness of his person, and the purity of his
human nature.
Born of the Virgin Mary.
He was not only of the same nature with
man, which he might have been by a new-
created humanity, but of the same stock,
and so a fit Saviour, a near kinsman, as the
word that in Hebrew is a Redeemer, doth
signify bone of our bone, and flesh of our
flesh. We see, then, the person of our Me-
diator very fit for that his office, having both
the natures of the parties at variance which
he was to reconcile. And this happy meet,
ing of God and man in the person of Christ,
to look no further, was a very great step to
the agreement, and a strong pledge of its ac-
complishment. To see the nature of man
that was an enemy, received into so close
embraces with the Deity, as within the com-
pass of one person, promised infallibly a re-
concilement of the persons of men unto
God. There the treaty of peace began, and
OF THE CREED. ,jr»y
was exceedingly promoted by that very be- i quently, therefore it is here immediately sub-
ginning, so that in it there was a sure pre- joined to the article of his birth.
sage of the success ; it was indeed as they
say of a good beginning, Dlmidium facti.
Had God and man treated any where but in
the person of Christ, a peace had never been
concluded, yea, it had broke up at first ; but
being in him, it could not fail, for in him
they were already one, one person, so there
they could not but agree ; " God was in
Christ reconciling the world to himself."
2. Considering the work to be done in this
agreement, as well as the persons to be agreed,
it was altogether needful that the undertaker
should be God and man ;* the mediation was
not a bare matter of word, but there was such
a wrong done as required a satisfaction should
be made ; (we speak not what God might
absolutely have done, but what was to be
done suitable to God's end, that was for the
joint glory of justice and mercy, " That mercy
and truth might meet, and righteousness and
peace kiss each other ;") and because the
party offending was not able for it, he that
would effectually suit for him, must likewise
satisfy for him.
as here follows.
And this Jesus Christ did,
Now, that he might do this,
it was necessary that he should be God able
to save, and man fit to save man ; man that
he might suffer, and God that his suffering
might be satisfying ; man that he might die,
and God that his death might have value to
purchase life to us.
The Son was fit to be incarnate for his
work ; the middle person in the Godhead to
be man's mediator with God. What we had
lost was the dignity of the sons of God, and
therefore his only Son, only fit to restore us
to it : the beauty defaced in us was the image
of God ; therefore the repairing and re-impart-
ing, a fit work for his purest and perfectest
image, his Son, the character of his Person.
Now this incarnation of the Word, the Son
of God, is the foundation of all our hopes ;
the sense of that great promise, " The seed
of the woman shall bruise the serpent's head ;"
and many others of the same substance in the
prophets ; the great salvation so often fore-
told, and so long expected by the Jews.
It is not for nothing that we have the name
of the Roman judge here expressed, under
whom he suffered ; though it is nothing to
his credit, yet it is to the credit of Divine
Mrisdom. Even this, considering the nature
and end of Christ's death, being to satisfy
a pronounced sentence of justice ; though, for
others, it was a very agreeable circumstance
that he should not be suddenly or tumultua-
rily murdered, but be judicially, though un-
justly condemned.
Crucified. Besides, it made his suffering
more public and solemn ; and the Divine
Providence ordered this, that he should suffer
under a Roman judge, and so fall under this
Roman kind of punishment, being in itself
a very shameful and painful kind of death,
and by the sentence of the law accursed, that
we might have the more evidence of our de-
liverance from that shame, and pain, and
curse, that was due to us. " The chastise-
ment of our peace was upon him," (says the
prophet,) " and by his stripes we arehealed."
Suffered. That he died, and what kind of
death, you see is expressed : but as many
particular sufferings of his body are not here
mentioned, so none of those of his soul, but
all comprehended in this general word, He
suffered. Those were too great to be duly
expressed in so short a form, and therefore
are better expressed by supposing them, and
including them only in this, He suffered.
As he that drew the father among others, be-
holding the sacrificing of his own daughter,
signified the grief of the rest in their gestures,
and visages, and tears, but drew the father
veiled ; so here the crucifying and death of
our Saviour are expressed, but the unspeak-
able conflicts of his soul are veiled under the
general term of suffering. But sure that in-
visible cup that came from his Father's hand,
was far more bitter than the gall and vinegar
from the hand of his enemies ; the piercing
of his soul far sharper than the nails and
thorns : he could answer these sweetly with,
" Father, forgive them, for they know not
what they do ;" but these other pangs drew
When this was fulfilled, that a virgin did from him another kind of word, " My God !
conceive by the Holy Ghost, " Then did the ' my God ! why hast thou forsaken me ?"
heavens drop down righteousness from above, • Died. No less would serve, and therefore
and the earth bring forth salvation," Isa. xlv. | he was obedient even unto the death, as the
8. This seems to be that which the church sentence against us did bear, and the sacn-
did so earnestly wish, " Oh that thou wert fices of the law did prefigure. When the
as my brother," Cant. viii.
Suffered under Pontius Pilate.
Though all his life was one continued act
sacrifices drew back and went unwillingly to
the place, the Heathens accounted it an ill
presage : never sacrifice more willing than
of suffering, from his living in the cratch to1 Christ — " I lay down my life for my sheep,
his hanging on the cross ; yet because of the' (said he,) and no man taketh it from me.
briefness of this confession, as likewise
cause this last act was the greatest
remarkable of his sufferings, and the Scrip-' gave mo UU^K. w HIE oui»v.°, ~«
t;ire itself doth (as such) mention it most fre- hour came I into the world," says he. Ann
* Humana divinitas et divina humanitas. ' this his death is our life, though by it we We
438
AN EXPOSITION
not away.
Buried.
not freed from this temporal death ; yet
which is infinitely more, we are delivered
from eternal death, and, which is yet more,
entitled to eternal life ; and therefore do no
more suffer this temporal death as a curse,
but enjoy it as a blessing, and may look upon
it now, (such as are in Christ, none other,]
not only as a day of deliverance, but of co-
ronation : the exchange of our present rags
for long white robes, and a crown that fadeth
For the further assurance of his
death, and glory of his resurrection, as like-
wise to commend the grave to us, as now a
very sweet resting place, he hath wanned the
cold bed of the grave to a Christian, that he
need not fear to lie down in it, nor doubt
that he shall rise again, as we know, and are
after to hear, that he did.
Descended into hell- The more noise hath
been about this clause, I shall make the less.
The conceit of the descent of Christ's soul
into the place of the damned, to say no more
nor harder of it, can never be made the ne-
cessary sense of these words ; nor is there any
other ground in Scripture, or any due end of
such a descent, either agreed on, or at all al-
legeable, to persuade the choosing it as the
best sense of them. Not to contest other in-
terpretations, I conceive, with submission,
that it differs not much (possibly nothing)
from the plain word of his burial. Not that
the author or authors of this so brief a con-
fession, would express one thing by divers
words, but that it may be, in the most an-
cient copies, only the one of them hath been
in the text ; and in after copies, in transcrib-
ers' hands, the other hath crept into it, out
of the margin. But retaining it by all means
as it is, it may signify the abode and con-
'.inuance of Christ's body in the grave ; in
which time he seemed to have been swallow-
ed up of death, and that the pit had shut her
mouth on him : but it appeared quickly other-
wise ; for, The third day he arose from the
dead.
These are great things indeed that are
spoken concerning Jesus Christ, his birth
and sufferings ; but the greater our unhappi-
ness, if we have no portion in them. To hear
of them only, and to enjoy nothing of them,
is most miserable ; and thus it is through our
unbelief. Were it as common to believe in
him, as to repeat these words, or to come to
church and hear this gospel preached, then
you would all make a pretty good plea on it ;
but believe it, it is another kind of thing to
believe than all that, or than any thing that
the most of us yet know. My brethren, do
not deceive yourselves ; that common high,
way faith will not serve ; you are for all that
still unbelievers in Christ's account ; and if
so, for all the riches of comfort that are in
him, you can receive none from him. It is a
sad word that he says, Because ye believe
not in me, ye shall die in your slut i
" Though I died for sins not mine own, but
others', yet you remaining in ungodliness
and unbelief, that shall do you no good ; ye
shall die in your sins for all that." 1 1 is such
a faith as endears Christ to the soul, unites
it to him, makes Christ and it one, that
makes all that is his to become ours ; then
we shall conclude aright, Christ hath suffer,
ed, therefore I shall not. As he said to them
that came to take him, Is it I you seek ?
then let these go free ; so to the law and
justice of God, -"Seeing you have sought
and laid hold on me, and made me suffer,
let these go free that lay hold on me by faith :
if you have any thing to say to them, I am to
answer for them, yea I have done it already."
2. You that believe and live by this death,
be often in reviewing it, and meditating on
it, that your souls may be ravished with the
admiration of such love, and warmed with a
reflex love to him *. Other wonders, as you
say, last for a while, but this is a lasting
wonder ; not to the ignorant, (the cause of
wonder at other things is ignorance indeed,)
but this is an everlasting wonder to those that
know it best, viz. to the very angels. Let
that loved Jesus be fixed in your hearts, who
was for you nailed to the cross -f. St. Bernard
wonders that men should think on any thing
else ; Quanta insanias post tanti Regis ad-
ventum aliis negotiis, &c- Sure it is great
folly to think and esteem much of any thing
here, after his appearing; the sun arising,
drowns all the stars. And withal, be daily
crucifying sin in yourselves ; be avenged
on it for his sake, and kill it because it kill-
ed him.
3. Will you think any thing to do or
suffer for him that undertook, and performed
to the full, so mjjch for you j ? If you ha I
rather be youv own than Christ's, much goo I
do it you with yourselves ; but know, that
if you are not Christ's, but your own, yo.i
must look for as little of him to be yours
If ye be your own, you must bear all your
own sins, and all the wrath that is due to
them. But if you like not that, and resolve
to be no more your own, but Christ's, then
what have you to do but cheerfully to em-
brace, yea, earnestly to seek all opportunities
to do him service ?
4. These are the steps of Christ's humilia-
tion ; look on them then, so as to study to be
like him, particularly in that: surely the soul
that hath most of Christ, hath most humili-
ty. It is the lesson he peculiarly recom-
mends to us from his own example, which
is the shortest and most effectual way of teach-
ing. " Learn of me, for I am meek and
lowly of heart." He says well, " Let man
* Mira Dei dignitas, mira indignitas ncstra.
f Donee totus fixus in corde, qui totus fixus in
ruce.
t. Jntolerabilis est impudentla, ut ubi se ex'nanlvit
naj tas, vermiculus infletur ct intun escat.
be ashamed to be any longer proud, for whom
God made himself so low." * He became
humble to expiate our pride, and yet we will
not banish that pride that undid us, and fol-
low that way of salvation, which is humility.
Jesus Christ is indeed the lily of the valley,
he grows no where but in the humble heart.
Hose again the third day.
When humbled to the lowest, then near-
est his exaltation, as Joseph in the prison.
He could die, for he was a man, and a man
for that purpose, that he might die ; but he
could not be overcome by death, for lie was
God ; yea, by dying he overcame death, and
so shewed himself truly the Lord of life.
He strangled that lion in his own den. The
whale swallowed Jonah, but it could not digest
him ; it was forced to cast him up again at
the appointed time, the same with the time
here specified, wherein the prophet was a
figure of this great Prophet, Jesus Christ.
The grave hath a terrible appetite, devours
all, and still cries, Give, give, and never
hath enough, as Agur says ; yet for all its
appetite, Christ was too great a morsel for it
to digest, too strong a prisoner for all its bars
and iron gates to keep him in. // was im-
possible he should be holden of it, says St.
Peter, Acts ii. 24.
He hath made a breach through death,
opened up a passage on the other side of it
into life, though otherwise indeed, vestigia
nulla relrorsum. They that believe, that
lay hold on him by faith, they come through
with him, follow him out at the same
breach, pass through death into heaven ;
but the rest find not the passage out ; it is
as the Red Sea, passable only to the Israel-
ites, therefore they must of necessity sink
quite downwards through the grave into hell,
through the first death into the second ; and
that is the terriblest of all : that death is
indeed what one called the other, " The
most terrible of all terribles, the king of ter-
rors," as it is in Job.
Now the only assurance of that happy
second resurrection to the life of glory here-
after, is the first resurrection here to the life
of grace ; " Blessed are they that are par-
takers of the first resurrection, for on such
the second death hath no power." For the
resurrection of Jesus Christ is to the believer
the evidence of his redemption completed,
that all was paid by Christ as our surety,
and so he is set at liberty ; which the apostle
teaches us, when he says, " He arose for
righteousness ;" and again, " It is God
that justifies, who shall condemn ? It is
Christ that died, or rather, that is risen
again." Nor is it only the pattern and pledge
of a believer's resurrection, but it is the effi-
cient both of that last resurrection of his
* Erubcscat homo su;>erbus esse, propter quern
hnmill? factiis est Deus.
OF THE CREED.
439
body to glory, and of the first, of his soul
to grace.
The life of a believer is derived, and flows
forth from Christ as his head, and is mysti-
cally one life with his, and therefore so, as
himself expresseth it, " Because I live, ye
shall live also, John xiv. 19. Therefore is
he called the " first-begotten from the dead,
and the beginning," Ev Kauri* vgoirtvuv, Col.
i. 18. He is first in all, and fiom him spring
all these streams that make glad the city oj
God. Therefore the apostle, in his thanks-
giving for our new life and lively hopes,
leaves not out that, " Blessed be God, the
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ ;" that is
the conduit of all. And he expresses it in
the same place, that vie are begotten again
to a lively hope, by the resurrection of Jesus
from the dead. But, alas ! we prejudge
ourselves of all that rich comfort that is wrapt
up in this, by living to ourselves and our
lusts, and to the world, having not our con-
sciences purified from dead works. How
few of us are there that set that ambition of
Paul before us, " desiring above all things
to know him, and the power of his resurrec-
tion !" " To be made comformable," that is
the knowledge, as he expresses it, a lively
experienced knowledge of that power.
2. This, rightly considered, will answei
all our doubts and fears in the church's
hardest times ; when in its deliverance there
appears nothing but impossibilities ; so low
that its enemies are persuaded to conclude
that it shall never rise again, and its friends
are oppressed with fearing so much : yet lie
that brought up his own son Jesus from the
dead, can and will restore his church, for
which he gave that his only-begotten Son to
the death. Son of man, says he, can
these dry bones live $ (thus often looks the
church's deliverance, which is there the pro.
per sense.) The prophet answered mosi
wisely, Lord, thou knowesl. " It is a work
only for thee to know and to do ;" and by
his Spirit they were revived. And as here
it looked hopeless, as the disciples thought
they were at giving it over, and blaming
almost their former credulity, "We thought
this should have been he that should have
delivered Israel ; and besides all this, to-day is
the third day." True the third day was come,
but it was not yet ended ; yea, he rose in
the beginning of it, though they knew it not,
nor him present to whom they spake : but
towards the end of it, they likewise knew
that he was risen, when he was pleased to
discover himself to them. Thus, though
the enemies of the church prevail so far
against it, that it seems buried, and a stone
laid to the grave's mouth, yet it shall rise
again, and at the very fittest, the appointed
time, as Christ the third day. Thus the
church expresses her confidence, Hos. vi. 1,
•J, " In the third flay he will raise us tip,"
440
AN EXPOSITION
Whatsoever it suffers, it shall gain by it,
and be more beautiful and glorious in its
restorement.*
He ascended into heaven. He rose again,
not to remain on earth as before, but to re-
turn to his throne of majesty, from whence
his love drew him, according to his prayer,
John xvii., which was a certain prediction
of it. He had now accomplished the great
work he came for, and was therefore, by the
covenant and transaction betwixt his Father
and him, to be exalted to his former glory ;
the same person as before, but with the
surcease of another nature, which he had not
before, and of a new relative, dignity, being
to sit as King of his church, which he had
purchased with his btood.
And to express this, it is added, that he
sits at the right hand of God, Ps. ex. 1, &c.
Eph. i. 20, 21, &c. By which, according
to its allusive sense, is expressed not only
his matchless glory, but his dominion and
rule as Prince of Peace, the alone R,ing of
his church, her supreme lawgiver and mighty
protector, and conqueror of all his enemies,
ruling his holy hill of Zion with his golden
sceptre of his word, and breaking his enemies,
the strongest of them, in pieces, with the
iron rod of his justice ; as We have it in the
2d Psalm. They attempt in vain to unsettle
his throne ; it is very far out of their reach, as
high as the right hand of God : For ever,
O God, thy throne is established in heaven.
What way is there for the worms of this
earth to do any thing against it ?
As in these is the glory of Christ, so they
contain much comfort of a Christian. In
that very elevation of our nature to such
dignity, is indeed, as the ancients speak,
mira dignatio, that our flesh is exalted above
all the glorious spirits, the angels ; and they
adore the nature of man, in the person of
man's glorified Saviour, the Son of God.
This exaltation of Jesus Christ doth so re-
fleet a dignity on the nature of mankind ;
but the right and possession of it is not uni-
versal, but is contracted and appropriate to
them that believe on him. He took not on
him the nature of angels, says the apostle,
but the nature of " the seed of Abraham."
He says, not the nature of man, though it
is so, but of the seed of Abraham ; not so
much because of his descent from that parti-
cular stock after the flesh, as in the spiritual
sense of Abraham's seed, as it is at large
cleared, Rom. ix. The rest of mankind
forfeits all that dignity and benefit that
arises to their nature in Christ, by their dis-
tance and disunion from him through un-
belief. But the believer hath not only na-
turally one kind of being with the humanity
of Christ; but is mystically one with the
person of Christ, with whole Christ, God-
man ; and by virtue of that mysterious union
* Mersas profundo, pulchricr cxilet.
they that partake of it, partake of the vfry
present happiness and glory of Christ ; they
have a real interest in whatsoever he is and
hath, in all his dignities and power ; and
in that sense they that are justified are glo-
rified ; in that Christ is exalted, they are so
too in him. Where a part, and the chief
part of themselves is, and is in honour, there
they may account themselves to be.* A
man is said to be crowned when the crown
is set upon his head ; now our head, Christ,
is already crowned. In sum, believers have
in this ascending and enthroning of Christ,
unspeakable comfort through their interest
in Christ, both in consideration of his pre-
sent affection to them, and his effectual in-
tercession for them ; and in the assured
hope this gives them of their own after-hap-
piness and glory with him.
1. In all his glory he forgets them not,
he puts not off his bowels with his low con
dition here, but hath carried it along to his
throne ; his majesty and love suit very well,
and both in their highest degree ; -\ as all
the waters of his sufferings did not quench
his love. Nor left he it behind him buried
in the grave, but it arose with him, being
stronger than death ; so he let it not fall to
the earth when he ascended on high, but i»
ascended with him, and he still retains it in
his glory. And that our flesh, which he
took on earth, he took up into heaven, as a
token of indissoluble love, betwixt him and
those whom he redeemed, and sends down
from thence, as the rich token of his love, hi»
Spirit into their hearts, so that these are mu-
tual remembrances. Can he forget his own
on earth, having their flesh so closely united
to him ? You see he does not, he feels what
they suffer : " Saul, Saul, why persecutest
thou me ?" And can they forget him whose
Spirit dwells in them, and records lively to
their hearts the passages of his love, and brings
all those things to their remembrance, (as
himself tells us that Spirit would do), and
so indeed proves the comforter by represent-
ing unto us tfiat his love, the spring of our
comforts ? And when we send up our re-
quests, we know of a friend before us there,
a most true and a -most faithful friend, that
fails not to speak for us what we say, and
much more ; he livelh, says the apostle, to
make intercession for us. This is the ground
of a Christian's boldness at the throne of
grace : yea, therefore is the Father's throne
the throne of grace to us, because the throne
of our Mediator Jesus Christ is beside it.
He sits at his right hand, otherwise it would
be nothing to us but a throne of justice, and
so in regard of our guiltiness, a throne of
terror and affrightment, which we would ra-
ther fly from, than draw near unto.
* Ubi portio mea regnat, ibi me regnare credo.
t Bene conveniunt, et in uno sede moraiilur, ma-
estas et amor.
OF THE CREED.
•141
Lastly, as we have the comfort of such :
friend, to prepare access to our prayers there
that are the messengers of our souls ; so 01
this, that our souls themselves, when they
remove from these houses of clay, shall fine
admission there through him. And this he
tells his disciples again and again, and in
them all his own, that their interest was so
much in his ascending to his glory " I go
to prepare a place for you, that where I am,
there ye may be also."
It will not be hard to persuade them that
believe these things, and are portioners in
them, to set their hearts on them, and for
that end to take them off from all other things
as unworthy of them ; yea, it will be impos-
sible for them to live without the frequent and
sweet thoughts of that place where their Lord
Jesus is. Yet it is often needful to remem-
ber them that this cannot be enougp done,
and by representing these things to them, to
draw them more upwards ; and it is best d.one
in the apostle's words, " If ye be risen with
Christ, mind those things that are above,
where he sits," &c. If ye be risen with
him, follow him on, let your hearts be
where he is ; they that are one with him, the
blessed seed of the woman, do find that unity
drawing them heavenwards : but, alas ! the
most of us are liker the accursed seed of
Ae serpent, basely grovelling on this earth,
and licking the dust ; the conversation of the
believer is in heaven, where he hath a Sa-
viour, and from whence he looks for him.
Truly there is little of a true Christian here
'(and that argues that there is little of the
truth of Christianity among us, who are al-
together here) ; his head in heaven, and his
heart there, and these are the two principles
of life. Let us, then, suit the apostle's ad-
vice, and so enjoy the comfort he subjoins,
that by our affections above, we may know,
" that our life is hid with Christ in God,
and therefore, that when he who is our life
shall appear, we likewise shall appear with
him in glory."
From thence he shall come to judge, ic.
We have in this to consider, 1. That there
is an universal judgment. 2. That Christ
is the Judge. 3. Something to be added
of the quality of the judgment ; all the three
we have together, Acts xvii. 31.
That it is, is, we know, the frequent doc-
trine of the Scriptures, and hath been ever
the belief of the godly from the beginning,
as we may perceive by that ancient prophecy
of Enoch, recorded by St. Jude, and we are
so to believe it as a divine truth : and yet
there is so Tnuch just reason for it, that na-
tural men, by the few sparkles of light in
their consciences, have had some dark notions
and conjectures of it, as is evident in Pla o
and the Platonics, and not only the philos •
pliers, but the poets : it may be too that they
have been helped by some reattereii glim-
merings of light concerning this, borrowed
from the Jews, and traditionally passed from
hand to hand among the Heathen, and there-
fore disguised and altered after their fa-
shion.
If we be persuaded that there is a Supreme
Ruler of the world, who is most wise, and
just, and good, this will persuade us not only
that there is some other estate and being,
than that we see here, appointed for man,
the most excellent, the reasonable part of this
visible world ; but that there shall be a so-
lemn judicial proceeding, in entering and
stating him in that after-being. The many
miseries of this present life, and that the
best of men are usually deepest sharers in
them, though it hath a little staggered, not
only wise Heathens, but sometimes some of
the prime saints of God, yet it hath never
prevailed with any but brutal and debauched
spirits, to conclude against Divine Provi-
dence, but rather to resolve upon this, that
of necessity there must be another kind
of issue, a final catastrophe, reducing all the
present confusions into ordet, and making
all odds even, as you say. • It is true that
sometimes here the Lord's right hand finds
out his enemies, and is known by the judg-
ment which he executes on them ; and, on
the other side, gives some instances of his
gracious providence to his church, and to
particular godly men, even before the sons
of men : but these are some few preludes and
pledges of that great Judgment ; some he
gives, that we forget not his justice and
goodness, but much is reserved, that we ex-
pect not all nor the most here, but hereafter.
And it is certainly most congruous, that this
i)e done, not only in each particular apart,
but most conspicuously in all together, that
the justice and mercy of God may not only
be accomplished, but acknowledged and
magnified, and that not only severally, in
the several persons of men and angels, but
universally, jointly, and manifestly in the
view of all, as upon one theatre ; angels and
men being at once, some of them the objects
of that justice, others of mercy, but all of
them spectators of both. Each ungodly man
shall not only read, whether he will or no,
the justice of God in himself, and his own
condemnation, which most of them shall do
before that time in their soul's particular
udgment ; but they shall then see the same
ustice in all the rest of the condemned world,
and the rest in them ; and, to the great in-
crease of their anguish, they shall see like-
wise the glory of that mercy that shall then
shine so bright in all the elect of God, from
which they themselves are justly shut out,
and delivered up to eternal misery.
And, on the other side, the godly shall
with unspeakable joy behold not only a part
s before, but the whole sphere both of the
* Cum res hominum tanta caligine vjlvi.— CLAUD.
442
AN EXPOSITION
justice and mercy of their God, and shall
with one voice admire and applaud him in
both. 2. Besides, the process of many
men's actions cannot be full at the end of
their life, as it shall be at that day ; many
have very large after-reckonings to come upon
them for those sins of others to which they are
accessary, though committed after their
death, as the sins of ill-educated children to
be laid to the charge of their parents, the sins
of such as any have corrupted, either by their
counsels, or opinions, or evil examples, &c
2. He, the Lord Jesus, shall be Judge
in that great clay ; the Father, and Spirit,
and his authority, are all one, for they are
all one God and one Judge ; but it shall be
particularly exercised and pronounced by our
Saviour God-man, Jesus Christ. That eternal
Word by whom all things were made, by him
all shall be judged, and so he shall be the
Word in that last act of time, as in the first ;
he shall judicially pronounce that great and
final sentence, that shall stand unalterable in
eternity ; and not only as the eternal Son of
God, but withal the Son of man, and so sit
as King, and invested with all power in hea-
ven and earth. " By that Man whom he hath
appointed to judge the quick and the dead,"
Acts xvii. 31 ; and Acts i. 11. This same
Jesus shall so come, in like manner as ye
have seen him go into heaven. The powers
of the world and of hell are combined against
his throne, therefore they shall be his foot-
stool sitting on that throne, and the crown
which he hath purchased for believers, he
shall set it on their heads with his own hand.
This shall be exceeding joy and comfort to
all that have believed on him, that their
Redeemer shall be their judge ; he that was
judged for them, shall judge them, and pass
sentence according to that covenant of grace
that holds in him, pronouncing them free
from the wrath which he himself endured
for them, and heirs of that life that he bought
with his dearest blood.
And that gives no less accession to the
misery of the wicked, that that same Jesus
whom they opposed and despised, so many
cf them as heard any thing of him, he shall
sit upon their final judgment, and pronounce
sentence against them, not partially aveng-
ing his own quarrel on them, no word of
that, hut most justly returning them the re-
ward of their ungodliness and unbelief ; that
great shepherd shall thus make that great
separation of his sheep from the goats.
3. Of the manner, we have thus much
here, that he shall come from heaven, as the
Scriptures teach us, Matt. xxiv. 30 : he
shall visibly appear in the air, he shall come
in the clouds of heaven with power and
great glory, attended with innumerable com-
himself in the brightness of his own majesty,
infinitely surpassing them all, 2 Thess. i.
7- His first coming was me in and obscure,
suiting his errand, for then he came to be
judged ; but that last coming shall be glo-
rious, for he comes to judge, and his judg-
ment shall be in righteousness, Acts xvii.
31. * There shall be no misalleging, or
misproving, or misjudging there ; all the
judgments of men, whether private or judi-
cial, shall be rejudged there according to
truth ; such a judge before whom all things
are naked ; and not only shall he know and
judge all aright, but all they that are judged
shall themselves be convinced that it is so ;
then all will see that none are condemned
but most deservedly, and that the Lord's
justice is pure and spotless in them that pe-
rish, as his grace, without prejudice to his
justice, it being satisfied in Christ for them
that are saved. The books shall be opened,
those that men so willingly, the most of them,
keep shut and clasped up, and are so unwill-
ing to look into — their own accusing con-
sciences. The Lord will proceed formally
against the wicked, according to the books ;
no wrong shall be done them, they shall
have fair justice, and they shall see what
they would not look upon before, when bj
seeing, that might have been blotted out,
and a free acquittance written in its stead
And that the believer shall read in his con-
science at that day, which, through the dim-
ness of faith, and dark, troubled estate ot
his soul, he many times could not read here
below.
We are gaping still after new notions, but
a few things wisely and practically known,
drawn down from the head into the heart,
are better than all that variety of knowing
that men are so taken up with ; Paucis
literis opus est ad mentem bonam. This and
such like common truths we think we botli
know and believe well enough ; but, truly,
if this great point touching the great and last
judgment were indeed known and believed
by us, it would draw our minds to more fre-
quent and more deep thoughts of it; and were
we often and serious in those thoughts, they
would have such influence into all our other
thoughts, and the whole course of our lives,
as would much alter the frame of them from
what they are. Did we think of this gospel
which we preach and hear, that we must
then be judged by it, we should be now
more ruled by it ; but the truth is, we are
willingly forgetful of these things ; they are
melancholy, pensive thoughts, and we are
content that the noise of aft'airs or any vani-
ties fill the ear of our minds, that we hear
them not. If we be forced at some times to
hear of this last judgment to come, it pos-
pames of glorious angels that shall serve sibly casts our conscience into some little
im, both in the congregating his elect, and trembling fit for the time, as it -lid Felix ;
segregating them front, the reprobate; but1 * Juste jmdicabit , injustejudicatusest Auo.
OF THE CREED.
41'J
jut I e was not, nor are we, so happy as
to be shaken out of the custom and love
of sin by it ; we promise it fair, as he
did, some other time ; but if that time never
come, this day will come, and they that
shun to hear or think of it, shall then see
it, and the sight of it will be as terrible and
amazing as the timely thoughts of it would
have been profitable. It is, no doubt, an
unpleasing subject to all ungodly, earthly
minds ; but sure it were our wisdom to be
of that mind now, that then we shall be
forced to be of ; we shall then read, by the
light of that fire that shall burn the world,
the vanity of those things whereon we now
dote so foolishly. Let us, therefore, be per-
suaded to think so now, and disengage our
hearts, and fix them on him who shall then
judge us ; Kiss the Son, &c. They are
only happy that trust in him ; that which
is the aft'rightment of others, is their great
joy and desire ; they love and long for
that day, both for their Saviour's glory in
it and their own full happiness, and that
their love to his appearing is to them a cer-
tain pledge of the crown they are to receive
at his appearing. 2 Tim. iv. 8. At that day,
says the apostle ; this day he esteems more
of than all his days, therefore he names it no
otherwise than that day. How may we
know what day it was he meant ? His coro-
nation day. But of all men, sure the hy-
pocrite likes least the mention and remem-
brance of that day ; there is no room for dis-
guises there ; all mask; must off, and all
things appear just as they are, and that is the
%worst news to him that can be.
/ believe in the Holy Ghost. God is
both a Spirit and holy ; but this name, per-
sonally taken, is peculiarly that of the third
person, proceeding from the Father and the
Son, by a way that can neither be expressed
nor conceived ; holy in himself, and the
author and cause of all holiness in us.
It is neither useful nor safe for us to en-
tangle our thoughts in disputes concerning
this mystery, but it is necessary that we
know, and acknowledge, and believe in this
Holy Spirit ; it is he in whom and by whom
we believe : we cannot know God, nor the
things of God, but by the Spirit of God, (1
Cor. ii. 11,) nor say that Jesus is God, but
Ly the same Spirit, 1 Cor. xiii. 3. We know
that this Holy Trinity co-operates in the
work of our salvation ; the Father hath
given us his Son, and the Son hath sent us
l.is Spirit, and the Spirit gives us faith,
which unites us to the Son, and through him
to the Father : the Father ordained our re-
demption, the Son wrought it, the Holy
Spirit reveals and applies it.
The remaining articles have the fruit of
that great work, the sending of the Son of
God in the flesh, his suffering and dying,
&c.j what it is, and to whom -' belongs ;
the result of Christ's incarnation and death,
cui et cujus gratia. Yea, the great design
of God in the other great work, that of the
first creation, was this second ; he made the
world, that out of it he might make this
elect world that is called his church : the
Son fell on sleep, on a dead sleep indeed,
the sleep of death on the cross, that out of
his side might be framed his spouse, which
is his church. The Holy Spirit moving
upon the souls of men in their conversion,
aims at this same end, the gathering and
completing of his church ; he is the breath
of life that breathed on these new creatures
that make up this society. So, then, this
is as much as to say, I verily believe that
God had such a purpose in making the world
and in sending his Son into it, and they
both in sending the Spirit, and the Spirit in
his working to make a holy church, a num-
ber that should serve God here, and enjoy
him in eternity : and I believe that God
cannot fall short of his end ; that blessed
Trinity doth not project and work in varn :
I believe, therefore, there is such a company,
there is a holy, universal church ; (univer-
sal) diffused through the several ages, and
places, and nations of the world ; (holy)
washed in the blood of Christ, and sanctified
by his Spirit ; that it is, that it hath in all
ages continued from the beginning, and shall
continue to the end of the world, increasing
still and growing to its appointed perfection,
amidst all the enmities and oppositions that
it encounters in the world. I send you forth,
says Christ, as sheep among wolves. The
preservation of the church is a continuing
miracle ; it resembles Daniel's safety among
the hungry lions, but prolonged from one
age to another. The ship, wherein Christ
is, may be weather-beaten, but it shall not
perish. So, then, you see that this confes-
sion is altogether no other but your acknow-
ledgment of God in himself, three in one,
and one in three, and his works of the crea-
tion of the world, and the redemption of man
by his Son, made man for that purpose, and
appropriate to them for whom it was designed
by his Holy Spirit ; and, with this acknow.
ledgment, our reliance on this God as the
author of our being and well-being.
The communion of Saints. This springs
immediately from the former ; if they make
one church, then they have a very near com-
munion together ; they are one body united
to that glorious head that is above ; they
have all one spiritual life flowing from him :
and this communion holds not only on earth
and in heaven apart, but even betwixt heaven
and earth ; the saints on earth make up the
same body with those already in glory ; they
are born to the same inheritance by new birth,
though the others are entered in possession
before them. This, their common title to
spiritual blessings and eternal blessedness.
444
AN EXPOSITION
prejudges none of them ; their inheritance is
such is is not lessoned by the multitude of
lieirs, it is entire to each one ; and that grace
and salvation that flows from Christ, the
Sun of righteousness, is as the light of the
sun where it shines, none hath the less be-
cause of others partaking of it. The happi-
ness of the saints is called an inheritance
in light, which all men enjoy without abate-
ment to any : they have each one their crown ;
they need not, they do not envy one another,
nor, Ottoman-like, one brother to kill an-
other to reign alone ; yea, they rejoice in
the happiness and salvation of one another,
they are glad at the graces that God bestows
on their brethren, for they know that they
all belong to the same first owner, and re-
turn to his glory ; and that whatsoever diver-
sity is in them, they all agree and concentre
in that service and good of the church ; and
so what each one hath of gifts and graces, be-
longs to all by virtue of this communion.
Thus ought each of them to think, and
every one of them humbly and charitably so
to use what he hath himself, and ingenuously
to rejoice in that which others have, as the
apostle reasons at large, 1 Cor. xii.
/ believe a holy Catholic Church, and
the communion of Saints.
We raay see the worth and the necessity
of holiness, how much it is regarded in the
whole work ; for this very thing did Christ
give himself for his church, that he might
sanctify it, &c., Eph. v. 26 ; so the end of
our redemption : and if we look as far for-
ward as salvation, there perfect holiness ; no-
hing unclean shall enter that holy city, and
without holiness no man shall see God : and
look again as far back as our election, Eph.
i. 4, and those that are not partakers of this,
do but delude themselves, in dreaming of in-
terest in the rest : no washing in the blood
of Christ to remission, but withal by the
Spirit to sanctification ; no comfort to the ua
holy in their resurrection, because no hope of
that to follow on it, that follows here — eter-
nal life : no, without shall be dogs. In the
base and foolish opinion of the world, holi-
ness is a reproach, or at the best but a mean
j'oor commendation, as you speak of it dis-
dainfully, a good, silly, holy body ; and men
are more pleased with any other title : they
had a great deal rather be called learned, or
wise, or stout, or comely, than holy.* But
God esteems otherwise of it, whose esteem is
the true rule of worth. That forecited place,
a glorious church : How ? Holy and with-
out blemish ; that is indeed the true beauty
of the soul, makes it like God, and (hat is
its comeliness. We see the Lord himself
delights to be known much by this style,
and glorified by it — Holy, holy, holy ; so
Exod. xv. 11, Glorious in holiness, and the
* Malumus audire O viruvn doctum, quam Ovirum
Inmiui. SKN.
Spirit of God still called the Holy Spirit.
How much then are they mistaken concern-
ing heaven, that think to find the way to it
out of the path of holiness, which is indeed
via regni, the only way that leads unto it !
Reprove you of unholiness, you say you are
not saints. No ! So much the worse, for they
that mean to share in the paidon of sin, and
eternal life, must be such. If you be content
still not to be saints, go on ; but know, that
they that are not in some measure saints in
grace here, shall never be saints in glor'
hereafter.
Forgiveness of Sins. Notwithstanding
forgiveness of sins, there is a necessity of ho-
liness, though not as meriting it, as leading
unto happiness. But, on the other side, not-
withstanding the highest point of holiness we
can attain, there is necessity of this forgive,
ness of sins. Though believers make up a
holy church and company of saints, yet there
is a debt upon them that their holiness pays
not ; yea, they are so far from having super-
plus for a standing treasure after all paid,
that all the holiness of the saints together,
will not pay the least farthing of that debt
they owe. As for me, I will walk in mine
integrity, says David, Psalm xxvi. 11. How
then ? adds he, " this shall justify me suffi-
ciently"? No, but redeem thou me, and be
merciful to me ; so 1 John i. 6, 8, If we say,
we have no sin, we are liars, &c., and walk
in darkness, &c. And yet, in the 7th verse,
though we do walk in the light, yet is there
need of the Wood of Jesus Christ, to cleanse
us from all sin ; and so throughout the Scrip-
tures. All the integrity of the godly undei
the law did riot exempt them from offering
sacrifice, which was the expiation of sin in
the figure, looking forward to that great and
spotless sacrifice, that was to be slain for the
sins of the world : and those that believe the
gospel, the application of that justifying blood
that streams forth in the doctrine of the gos-
pel, is not only needful to wash in for their
cleansing in their first conversion, but to be
re-applied to the soul, for taking off the daily
contracted guiltiness of new sins. It is a foun-
tain opened and standing open for sin and
uncleanness, as that sea of brass before the
sanctuary, &c. They that are clean have still
need of washing, at least, their feet, as Christ
speaks to St. Peter.
The consideration of that precious blood
shed for our sins, is the strongest persuasive
to holiness, and to the avoiding and hating
of .-iu. So far is the doctrine of justification
(rightly understood) from animating men to
sin. But because of the woeful continuance
of sin in the godly, while they continue in
this region of sin and death, therefore is there
a continual necessity of new recourse to this
great expiation. Thus St. John joins these
two, 1 John ii. 1, 2.
You think it an easv matter, and a tiling
OF THE CREED.
that for your own case you willingly believe,
the forgiveness of sins. It is easy indeed,
after our fashion, easy to imagine that we be-
lieve such a thing when we hear it, because
we let it pass and question it not ; we think
U may be true, and think no further on it,
while we neither know truly what sin is, nor
feel the weight of our own sins : but where
a soul is convinced of the nature of sin, and
.ts own guiltiness, there to believe forgive-
ness, is not so easy a task.
In believing this forgiveness of sins, and
*o the other privileges that attend it, there
be ihese ilnee things gradually leading one \
to the other. J . To believe that there is such
a thing, and that it is purchased by the death
of Christ, and so attainable by coining unto
him for it. 2. By this the soul, finding itself
ready to sink under the burden of its own
tins, is persuaded to go to him, and lay over
that load on him, and itself withal resolves '
to rest on him for this forgiveness : this is
to believe in him who is the Lord our righ-
teousness. 3. Upon this believing on him
for forgiveness, follows a reflex believing of
that forgiveness ; not continually and inse-
parably, especially if we take the degree of
assurance somewhat high, but yet in itself it
is apt to follow, and often in God's gracious
dispensation doth follow upon that former
act of believing, through the clearness and
strength of faith in the soul, and sometimes
withal, is backed with an express, peculiar
testimony of God's own Spirit. To believe,
And to grow stronger in believing, and to as-
pire to the assurance of faith, is our constant
duty ; but that immediate testimony of the
Spirit is an arbitrary beam that God reserves
in his own hand, yet such a gift as we may
not only lawfully seek, but do foolishly pre-
iudge ourselves and slight it, if we neglect
to seek it, and want so rich a blessing for
want of asking, and withal, labouring to keep
our hearts in a due dispose and frame for en-
tertaining it. The keeping our consciences
pure, as much as may be, doth not only keep
the comfortable evidence of pardon clearest
and least interrupted within us, but is the
likeliest to receive those pure joys that flow
immediately into the soul from the Spirit of
God. The testimony of our conscience is
(if we damp it not ourselves) our continual
feast, but that testimony of the Spirit is a
superadded taste of higher comfort out of
God's own hand, as it were a piece of hea-
ven in the soul, which he sometimes cheers
it withal : where he hath first given much
love and ardent desires after himself, they
are short of that light in the fulness whereof
we hope to dwell hereafter. But besides
that, God is most free in that particular,
and knows what is fittest for it ; the great-
est part even of true Christians yet do not so
walk, nor attain to that spiritualness that is
capable of such visits
115
The resurrection of the body. The com-
fort of these privileges, opposed to those
grand evils tfcat we feel or fear — sanctification
to the power of sin, justification or forgive-
ness to the guilt of sin, the resurrection to
temporal death, and life eternal to the second
or eternal death.
This is the raising of the self-same body
that is laid in the dust ; otherwise, the giv-
ing of a body to the soul again, must have
some other name, for resurrection it cannot
be called.
That God can do this, notwithstanding
all imaginable difficulties in it, have we not
proof enough in what he hath done ? Sure
that which he did in the beginning of time,
the framing the whole world of nothing, is
more than a sufficient pledge of this that is
to be done in the end of time.
That he will do it, we have his own word
for it, and the pledge of it in raising his Son
Jesus, therefore called the first-begotten from
the dead ; this as relating to believers, who
are one with him. The resurrection of the
dead in general is an act of power ; but to
the godly an act of grace, to the wicked of
justice ; both shall rise by the power of
Christ, but to the one as a judge, and a judge
that shall condemn them ; to the other as
their Head, and their Saviour. Joseph's
two fellow-prisoners were both taken out of
the prison, and at the same time, but the one
to the court, the other to the gallows ; so in
the resurrection, John v. 29.
The confession of faith being of such
things as belong to believers, and are their
happiness, therefore their resurrection is par-
ticularly here intended, as we see eternal life
and glory is subjoined to it.
Our bodies are raised, that were compa-
nions and partakers of our good and evil in
our abode upon earth, that they may in eter-
nity be companions and partakers of our re-
ward ; those of the ungodly, to suit their
condemned souls, shall be filled with shame,
and vileness, and misery ; and those that
were in their lower estate here temples of the
Holy Ghost, shall be filled with that fulness
of joy, that shall run over from the soul unto
them ; they shall be conform to the happy
and glorious souls to which they shall be
united, yea, to the glorious body of our Lord
Jesus Christ. There shall then be nothing
but beauty, and glory, and immortality in
them that are now frail and mortal, and be-
ing dead, do putrify and turn to dust. He
shall change our vile bodies, and make them
like unto his most glorious body ; but, as
St. Bernard says well, // we would be sure
of this, that our bodies shall be conformed
to /»w, in the glory to come, see our souls bo
here conformed to his, in that humility
which he so muck manifested whilst he
dwelt among men; if we would that then
our vile body be made like his glorious body,
445
AN EXPOSITION, &c.
let our proud heart now be made like his hum- jit is only the multitude of miseries in it can
ble heart. | challenge that name for it. Such a world of
Life eternal- Our confession of faith ends bodily diseases ; here one's head paining him,
in that which is the end of our faith — our another his stomach ;• some complaining
everlasting salvation, or eternal life; of which of this part, some of that, and the same party
all that we can say is but stammering, and sometimes of one malady, sometimes of an-
all our knowledge and conceiting of it but
ignorance, in regard of what it is ; yet so
much we know, or may know of it, as, if we
knew aright, would certainly draw us more
into the desires and pursuit of it. The very
name of life is sweet, but then especially as
it is here meant, in the purest and sweetest
sense.* For a life full of misery is scarce
worth the name of life, and the longer it
were, the worse ; therefore the miserable
estate of damned souls, though immortal in
it, is called death. So, then, by this life,
true and full blessedness being meant, and
then that added, that it is eternal life, what
can be imagined more to make it desirable ?
So happy, that there shall not be the
smallest drop of any evil or bitterness in it ;
pure, unmixed bliss ; nothing present in it
that is displeasing, nor nothing wanting that
is delightful ; and everlasting, that when
millions of years (if there were any such
reckoning there) are rolled about, it shall
be as far from ending as at the first.
A very little knowledge of this blessed
life would make us clean out of love with
the life that now we make such account of.
What can it be that ties us here ? The
known shortness of this life, were it more
happy than it is to any, might make it of
less esteem with us ; but then withal, being
so full of miseries and sins, so stuffed with
Borrows round about us, and within ourselves,
other ; what disappointments and disgraces,
and cross encounters of affairs ! What per-
sonal and what public calamities ! And
then sin the worst of all ; and yet all cannot
wean us. We cannot endure to hear nor
think of removing ; and the true reason is,
unbelief of this eternal life, and the neglect
of those ways that lead to it. Be persuaded
at length to call in your heart from the fool-
ish chase of vanity, and consider this glori-
ous life that is set before you. Do you think
the provision you make for this wretched
present life worth so many hours' daily pains,
and give eternal life scarce half a thought in
many hours, possibly not a fixed, serious
thought in many days ? Sure, if you be-
lieve there is such a thing, you cannot but
be convinced, that it is a most preposterous,
unwise course you take, in the expense of
your time and pains, upon any thing else
more than on life eternal. Think what a
sad thing it will be, think you, when you»
soul must remove out of that little cottage
wherein it now dwells, not to be bettered by
the removal, but thrust out into utter dark-
ness ; whereas, if ye would give up with sin
and embrace Jesus Christ as your joy and
your life, in him you would presently be put
into a sure, unfailing right to this eternal
life ; it is a pure life, and purity of life here
is the only way to it. Blessed are the purg
in heart, for they shall see God.
that if the longest of it can be called long, . » Quam malenobis convenit, nuncde ventre, nunc
„ „ j °.e capite, &c-< hoc contingcre solet in alieno haMtnn.
• Non cit vivere, ted valere vita. I tibu.,. SEN
OF
THE LORD'S PRAYER.
MATTH. vi. 9.
After this manner, therefore, pray ye.
rii
1 HE malice and sleight of featan, in refer-
ence to good actions, works first in attempt-
ing wholly to divert us from them ; but if
that take not, the next is, to pervert their
use, and corrupt them so in doing, that they
lose their acceptance with God, and we con-
sequently lose the fruit and comfort of them.
And as there is no religious exercise that he
hath more quarrel at, and owes greater en-
mity to, than prayer, being the most con-
stant crosser of his designs, there is none
from which he more endeavours to estrange
men, either wholly to lay it down, or to fre-
quent cessations ; or, if that cannot be, but
that the light of conscience still calls for
somewhat at least that may pass with a man
for prayer, yet if Satan can get it turned to
hypocrisy and formality, he knows he needs
not fear it, for so it wants the life of prayer,
and remains nothing but a dead carcase, and
therefore can neither please the living God,
nor hurt him who is its enemy.
Therefore our Saviour here warns his dis-
ciples to avoid, in praying, these two evils —
the vain ostentation of hypocrites, verse 5,
and the vain repetition of the Heathen,
verse 7 ; not to think it prayer to tumble out
a multitude of empty words ; and upon that
takes occasion to set this matchless copy of
prayer — the way of example being the short-
est and liveliest way of teaching. These
words that are but the entry, are not to be
passed : there is in them, 1. the duty of
prayer supposed ; 2. the prescribing of this
form. 1. Pray ; 2. After this manner.
The use and necessity of prayer is taken
for confessed, as before, ver. C, 1, When
ye pray, and when thou prayest. And the
consideration of this exercise, and of this
pattern of it, is with good reason accounted
among the most necessary principles of reli-
gion ; without it, indeed, all religion withers
and languishes. The law of God is so pure
and exact a rule, that we cannot come near
the perfection of it, and therefore fall under
its curse. When we understand it so, that
drives us to the gospel, to seek salvation
there ; and the articles of the gospel, of our
Christian faith, are so high and mysterious,
that nature cannot aright understand or be-
lieve them ; and therefore both law and gos-
pel drive us to prayer, to seek of God renew-
ing grace to conform our hearts in some
measure to the holy law of God, and faith
to lay hold on Jesus Christ, and salvation
in him held forth to us in the gospel. Prayer
is not taken in its strict, grammatical sense,
in which the words used for it signify only
petition or request ; but as comprehending,
together with petition, confession and thanks-
giving, may be called chiefly and plainly, a
pious invocation of God ; and not speaking
abstractly of prayer, but according to the
estate of fallen man, it is very fit to add the
express mention of the Mediator, that is, an
invocation of God in the name of Christ ; for
it never ascends to God as pleasing incense,
but when it passeth through that golden cen-
ser, and is perfumed with the sweet odours
of his merits and intercession. His entrance
into heaven hath opened up the way for our
prayers to come in, and there is no access to
the throne of grace, but by that new and
living way, as the apostle speaks. But how
much better is the frequent practice, than
much discourse and business in defining
it ! Whatsoever is said aright in this, is
for the other as its end, as Gerson hath it
out of an ancient philosopher, Inquirimus
quid sit virtus, non ul sciamus, sed ut boni
efficiamur. We inquire what virtues arc,
not to know them, but to have them. And
indeed to do otherwise is but answerable
448
AN EXPOSITION OF
employment to study the nature of riches,
and talk of them, and remain poor, possess-
ing none.
It is not needful to stay upon distinguish-
ing prayer, by the different matter of peti-
tions, or things to be requested, which pos-
sibly some of the different names of prayer
in scripture do signify. This may suffice,
that it be of such things as are conformed to
the will and promises of God, and desired
with a suitable disposition of mind, and
therefore I call it a pious invocation. It is
the highest impudence to present God with
unjust or frivolous desires, el qua scire ho-
mines nolunt Deo narrant, Sen. We ought
to reverence the majesty of God, and regard
that in our requests. There is a difference
betwixt solemn prayer and sudden ejacula-
tions, but it is not a difference in their na-
ture, but only in continuance ; the former is
here meant, therefore of it, &c. Only this
of the other : it is to be wished that it were
more known, and more in use with Ch
tians, for it is, ho doubt, a very happy means
of preserving the heart in holy temper, and
constant regard of God in all a man's actions,
and is a m<iin point of answering the apos-
tle's word, pray continually ,• when in com-
pany, and apart, a man useth secret short
motions of the soul to God, that may be very
frequent in the day and night, whereas men's
callings, and natural necessities, and em-
ployments, allow them but some certain par-
cel of both for solemn prayer ; and these fre-
quent looks of the heart to heaven exceed-
ingly sweeten and sanctify our other employ-
ments, and diffuse somewhat of heaven
through all our actions. Solemn prayer at
fit times is a visiting of God, but this were
a constant walking with him all the daylong,
lodging with him in the night : When I
awake, says David, / am still with 1hee.
And these sudden darlings of the soul hea-
venwards, may sometimes have more swift-
ness and force than larger supplications,
having much spirit, as it were, contracted
in them ; and they would, no doubt, if used,
be answered with frequent beams of God's
• countenance returned to the soul, as it were
in exchange ; for though whole lifetimes of
prayer are not worthy the least of those, yet
it pleases God thus to keep intercourse with
those souls that love him, and for the eja-
culations of their desires to him, looks back
on them, and so they interchange, as it were,
sudden glances of love that answer one
another. The Lord is pleased to speak thus
himself, and the souls that know this love,
understand it — Thou hast ravished my
heart, my sister, my spouse, with one of
thine eyes. But though such looks m eja-
culation will refresh a soul inflamed with the
love of God, yet it suffices not ; they must
have times of larger and more secret converse
with their beloved, and particularly in the ex-
ercise of solemn, continued prayer, and if cut
short of it at any time, will miss it as much
as an healthful body its accustomed repast.
But it would seem, that ihough there may
be some reason for confession and thanks-
jiving, yet that which hath most peculiarly
the name of prayer — petition, is superfluous
he that knows our wants better than our-
selves, and what is fittest to bestow upon us,
and forget!- not at all, what need we put him
in mind, and follow him with so many suits ?
This indeed is a strong reason against vain
babblings in prayer, and imagining to be
heard merely for long continuance and mul-
titude of words ; and our Saviour himself
doth here use it so, ver. 8 ; but withal, he
shews us clearly, that it makes nothing
against the exercise of prayer, in that he adds
immediately upon these words, After this
manner, therefore, pray ye.
Although the Lord knows well our wants,
and doth according to his own good pleasure,
yet there is for prayer, 1. Duty ; 2. Digni-
ty ; 3. Utility.
\. Duty. We owe this homage to God,
not only to worship him, but particularly to
offer up our supplications, and to acknow-
ledge him our King, and Ruler of the whole
world, and to testify our dependence upon
him, as the giver of every good gift ; it is
not because he is unwilling and loath to give,
for he gives liberally, and upbraids none ;
yet says the apostle there, // any man lads
wisdom, let him ask it. So, of all wants,
that which thanksgiving doth acknowledge
after receipt, supplication doth beforehand ;
his power, and truth, and goodness, &c. ;
this is his still, the God that heareth prayer,
and therefore this homage is due to him —
To him shall all flesh come.
2. Dignity. This is the honour of the
saints, that they are admitted to so near and
frequent converse with the great God, that
they do not only expect from him, but may
so freely speak to him of their desires and
wants, and may pour out their complaints
into his bosom. Abraham is sensible of the
greatness of this privilege, by reflecting upon
the greatness of his distance ; it is an un-
speakable honour for dust and ashes to be
received into such familiarity with the Lord
of heaven and earth.
3. Utility. It quiets and eases the heart
when it is troubled, t-) vent itself to God, as
there is some natural ease in sighs and tears ;
(for otherwise nature shou'd not have been
furnished with them, nor teach us to use
them) ; they discharge some part of grief,
though addressed no whither, but only let
out more when it is in the presence of some
entire friend ; so that they must be most of
all easing when they are directed to God in
prayer. * Mine eye poureth forth tears
* Cor screnaf et purgat oratio, capaciusque cfTicit
ad excipienila diviii.i muncra. S. AUG.
THE LOKD'S PIlAYER.
449
unto God, says Job ; and David, My sigh-
ing is not hid from thee. Cast thy burden
on the Lord, says the Psalmist. The Lord
calls for our burdens, would not have us
wrestle with them ourselves, but roll them
over on him. Now the desires that are
breathed forth in prayer are, as it were, the
very unloading of the heart ; each request
that goes forth, carries out somewhat of the
burden with it, and lays it on God. Be
careful in nothing, says the apostle : that
were a pleasant life indeed, if it might be ;
but how shall that be attained ? Why, this
is the only way, says he, In all things make
your requests known unto God: tell him
what are your desires, and leave them there,
with him, and so you are sure to be rid of
further disquieting care of them ; try as many
ways as you will, there is no other will free
you in difficulties of all perplexing thoughts
but this, and this will do it.
2. In it the graces of the Spirit are exer-
cised, and they gain by that, as all habits do.
They are strengthened and increased by act-
ing faith, in believing the promises : and
that is the very basis of prayer ; it cannot
subsist without the support of faith. And
hopeis raised up and set ontip-toc,a«-5xa;Ss*£/v;
to look out for accomplishment, and love
it, is that which delights it; to hr.part i;s
mind to him on whom it is set, and thus to
entertain converse and conference with him ;
and all hours seem short to it that are thus
spent ; and by this it still rises to a higher
flame, it is blown and stirred by prayer. The
more the soul converses with God, doubtless
the more it love* him.
And this speaking your desires to God in
prayer, makes tr^e heart still more holy, in-
vites it to entertain new desires, but such as
it may confidently acquaint God withal.
In relation to the particular things desired,
it not only fits and disposes the heart for re-
ceiving them as blessings, but withal it is a
real means of obtainment, by reason of God's
own appointment, and of his promise. He
hath bound himself by his promises, not to
i disregard the prayers of his people : His ear
is open to their cry, says the Psalmist ; and
| the many instances in scripture, and experi-
ence of the church in all ages, bear witness
to the truth of these promises. Imminent
'judgments averted, great armies conquered,
I and the very course of nature, countermanded,
the sun arrested, by the pcwer of prayer.
Moses' hands only held up to heaven, routed
the Amalekites more than all the swords that
were drawn against them.*
The goodness of God is expressed in his
promises ; and these promises encourage
prayer, and prayer is answered with perfor-
mance, and thanksgiving returns the perfor-
mance in praise to God, Psalm 1. 15. So
* In Aurelius's time the legion of the Christians is
T'x«" 2 F
all ends where it began, in him who is the
Alpha and Omega, the beginning and end
of all things.
If you would be rich in all grace, be much
in prayer. Conversing with God assimilates
the soul to him, beautifies it with the beams
of his holiness, as Moses' face shined when
he returned from the mount. It is prayer
that brings all our supplies from heaven, (as
that woman, Prov. xxxi. 14,) draws more
grace out of God's hand, and subdues sin
and the powers of darkness ; it entertains and
augments our friendship with God, raiseth
the soul from earth, and purifies it wonder-
fully. Their experience that have any of
this kind, teaches them, that as they abate
in prayer, all their graces do sensibly weak-
en ; therefore when the apostle hath suited a
Christian with his whole armour, he adds
this to all, pray continually ; for this arms
man and his armour both with the strength
and protection of God, armatura armatures
oralio.
After this manner.
They that know any thing of their own
wants and poverty, and of the bounty and
fuir.ess of God, cannot doubt of the continual
usefulness of prayer ; and they that are sen-
sJble of their own unskilfulness, will acknow-
ledge, that as prayer is necessary, so there
is necessity of a direction how to perform it.
The disciples found this in themselves, when
they said, Lord, teach us to pray, as St.
Luke hath it, where he records this prayer.
And our Saviour here marks the errors of
hypocrisy and babbling in prayer, that are so
incident to men, and teacheth his disciples,
After this manner therefore pray ye.
As for prescribing forms of prayer in ge-
neral, to be bound to their continual use in
private or public, is no where practised.
Nor is there, I conceive, on the other side,
any thing in the word of God, or any solid
reason drawn from the word, to condemn
their use.
There is indeed that inconvenience observ-
able in their much use, and leaning on them,
that they easily turn to coldness and formali-
ty ; and yet, to speak the truth of this, it is
rather imputable to our dulness, and want
of affection in spiritual things, than to the
forms of prayer that are used. For, whereas
some may account it much spiritualness to
despise what they have heard before, and to
desire continual variety in prayer, it seems
rather to be want of spiritualness that makes
that needful, for that we find not our affec.
tions lively in that holy exercise, unless they
be awaked and stirred up by new expressions ;
whereas the soul that is earnest on the thing
itself for itself, panting after the grace of
Go>i, and the pardon of sin, regards not in
what terms it .be uttered, whether new ot
old ; yea, though it be in those words it
hath heard and uttered a hundred times, ye»
450
AN EXPOSITION OF
•till it is new to a spiritual mind. And sure
the desires that do move in that constant
way, have more evidence of sincerity and true
vigour in them, than those that depend
upon new notions and words to move them,
cannot stir without them. It may be it is
no other but a false flash of temporary devo-
tion that arises in a man's heart, which
comes by the power of some moving strain
of prayer that is new. But when confes-
sions of sin, and requests of pardon, though
in never so low and accustomed terms, carry
his heart along with them heavenwards, it is
then more sure that the Spirit -of God dwell-
ing in him, and the sense of the things
themselves, the esteem of the blood of Christ,
and the favour of God, do move the heart,
when there is no novelty of words to help it.
So, then, though the Lord bestows rich gifts
upon some of his servants, for his glory and
the good of his church ; yet we should be-
ware, that iu fancying continual variety in
prayer, there be not more of the flesh than
of the Spirit, and the head working more
than the heart It is remarkable that (as
they that search those things observe) the
words of this prayer are divers of them such
as come near the words of such petitions as
were usual among the Jews, though he, in
whom was all fulness and wisdom, was not
scarce of matter and words ; so little was no-
velty and variety considerable in prayer in his
esteem. Mistake it not, the Spirit of prayer
hath not his seat in the invention, but in the
• affection. In this many deceive themselves, in
that they think the work of this Spirit of pray-
er to be mainly in furnishing new supplies of
thoughts and words ; no, it is mainly in excit-
ing the heart anew at times of prayer to break
forth itself in ardent desires toGod, whatsoever
the words be, whether new or old, yea pos-
sibly without words ; and then most power-
ful when it words it least, but vents in sighs
and groans that cannot be expressed. Our
Lord understands the language of these per-
fectly, and likes it best ; he knows and ap-
proves the meaning of his own Spirit, looks
for when we do not both understand and at-
tentively mind what we say, it is all one tc
us, though in our own tongue, as if with
them we said it in an unknown language.
It is a foolish, superstitious conceit, to im-
agine that the rattling over these words is
sufficient for prayer ; but it is, on the other
side, a weak, groundless scruple, to doubt
that the use of it, with spiritual affection, is
both lawful and commendable.
It is a particle both for the matter
and manner of prayer.
1. The matter.
This may be our rule, that whatsoever
we cannot reduce to some part of this pray-
er, as contained under it, should be no pan
of ours. If we take not heed to this, we may
abuse the throne of God with undue and un-
worthy suits, and ask those things that it
were a punishment to give us : therefore
Plato chose well that word, Give us what
is good for us, whether we ask it or not ;
and what is evil give us not, though we
should desire it. Not to speak now particu.
larly, we see in the matter of this prayer in
general, that spiritual things are to be the
main of all our prayers ; and in things tem-
poral, not to lodge superfluous, inordinate
desires, but in a moderate use to seek things
necessary.
2. For the manner : Observe, 1. The
ord-er of this prayer, that the soul put itself
in the sight of God, and him in its own
sight, beginning, as here, with due thoughts
of the majesty of God to whom we pray ;
and this is of very great consequence : but
more of this hereafter. 2. That the glory
of God is wholly preferred to all our own
contentment, of what kind soever ; that is
to be the first-born and strength of all our
desires, and all that we seek for ourselves
must be in relation to that his glory, directed
to it as our highest scope. And because we
are naturally full of self-love, and our hearts
ore carried by it towards our own interest,
and therefore, will be ready to start aside
like deceitful bows, and slip us in our aim-
not to the outward appearance, the shell of ing at that mark, therefore there be three
words, as men do. several petitions, all of that strain, to make
But to speak particularly of this form that
is above all exception, it is given us as the
pattern and model of all our prayers, and the
closer they keep to it, the nearer they resem-
ble, they are the more approvable. It is a
wonder then, how any can scruple the use
of this prayer itself : for if other prayers are
to be squared by it, what forbids to use that
which is the square, and therefore perfectest ?
If they be good by conformity to it, itself
must be better. The mumbling it over
without understanding and affection is indeed
no other but a gross abuse of it, and taking
of the name of God in vain, as all other
lifeless prayer is. And this is not only the
Popish abuse of it, but too much our own ; resPect to the majesty of God, as not to mul-
tiply idle repetitions, such as wise men can-
them steady and fixed towards it, to desire
in all things, and above all things, that our
God may be glorified.
3. Brevity, opposed to that babbling which
our Saviour reproves and particularly corrects
by this form ; that fault he lays on the
Heathen, not upon the Jews, for they blamed
it too, and their doctors spake against it, al-
leging that place that is very pertinent, Eccles.
v. 2, where he argues from our exceeding dis-
tance, and the greatness of God, because
men use not to entertain great persons with
long empty discourses. Know, then, before
whom thouart in
and have so much
THE LORD'S PRAYER.
451
,iK)t well endure, how much less the all-wise
God ! HxrroXoyia and ^raA.yXoy;a are here put
as one, because the one is the consequent of
the other; where there is inudi speaking, there
will be vain speaking and empty repetitions.*
In multitude of words there wanteth r*ot
*»/i, says Solomon ; and we see it, that they
that lay a necessity upon themselves of a
long continuance and many words in prayer,
as if it were otherwise no prayer at all, they
fall into this inconvenience of idle repeating ;
and this is most unbeseeming our access to
the majesty of God, as if there were some
defect either in his knowledge, or in his at-
tention or affection to those that seek him.
Therefore, though this was the common
fault of the Heathen, yet some even of them
bad so much discerning as to condemn this
folly, and inveigh against it,-f- acknowledg-
ing both the wisdom of God, and his
love to mankind, and that he understands
far better what is fit for us than we ourselves,
and therefore was not to be dishonoured with
idle tediousness in prayer.
But is then all length and much continu-
ance in prayer, and all redoubling of the
same request, reprovable ? Surely no. Were
there nothing else to persuade us of this, our
Saviour's own practice were sufficient, who
prescribed this rule, and yet is found to have
spent whole nights in prayer, and to have
iterated the same request ; and doubtless
(which can be said of no other) his example
is as perfect a rule as his doctrine.
This, then, briefly is the fault here, when
the long continuance and much repetition
in prayer is affected as a thing of itself avail-
able, when heaping on words, and beating
often over the same words, though the heart
bear them not company, is judged to be
prayer ; and generally whensoever the tongue
outruns the affection, then is prayer turned
into babbling. Yea, though a man use this
very short form here prescribed, yet he may
commit this very fault against which it was
provided, he may babble in saying it ; and it
is to be feared the greatest part do so. Men
judge (and that rightly) a speech to be long
or short, not so much by the quantity 01
words, as by the sense ; so that a very short
speech that is empty of sense may be called
long, and a long one that is full, and hath
nothing impertinent, is truly short : $ thus
as men judge by the sense of speech, Goc
judgeth by the affection of prayer ; that is
the true sense of it, so the quality is the rule
of the quantity with him. There is no
prayer too long to him, provided it be al
enlivened with affection ; no idle repetition
* X»»lf T«, T tIT'.lt T6AA«, XXI TO, xttl'IX. Soph
(Edip. ad. Col. IM2.
•f i'aucis vcrbis rcm divinam fan to. Pi..
$ Absit ut multiloquium deputem, quando neces
aana dicuntur, quantalibet scrmonum multitudine
ac prolixitate dirantur BreviUs est etiam in longis
lima orationc, cui nihil incst alieni.
where the heart sayj every word
as often and more often than the tongue.
Therefore those repetitions in the Psalms,
' Lord hear, Lord incline thine ear, Lord
attend," &c., were not idle on this account ;
God's own Spirit did dictate them, there
was not one of them empty, but came from
the heart of the holy penmen, full fraught
with the vehemency of their affections. And
t is reported of St. Angustin, that he pray-
ed over for a whole night, ffoverim le, Do-
mine, noverim me : because his heart still
followed the suit, all of it was prayer. So
that in truth, where the matter is new, and
the words still diverse, and very rich in
sense, yet with God it may be idle multiply-
:ng of words, because the heart stays be-
lind ; and where the same words are repeat-
ed, that a man seems poor and mean in the
gift of prayer to others, yet if it be not defect
of affection, but abundance of it (as it may
be) that moves often the same request, it is
not empty, but full of that sense that the
searcher of hearts alone can read. I had
rather share with that publican in his own
words, and say it often over, as if I had no-
thing else to say, God, be merciful to me
a sinner, saying it with such a heart, than
the most excellent prayer where the outside
is the better half.
So, then, this is the mistake of men, tc
think to make words pass for prayer with
God, and to make up what is wanting in-
wardly, with multitude of words and long
continuance ; a foolish compensation, that
will no way satisfy him that says, above all.
My son, give me thy heart ; and no length
nor words can supply the want of that with
him. Yet many do thus; they give large
measure of that which is altogether worth
nothing ; as the orator said of those that
made a poor speech pass for something, with
crying it out with a loud voice, " that they
were like to those cripples that got on horse-
back to hide their halting." It is thus here,
and the Church of Rome hath it for their
common shift ; they have shut out the heart
out of this employment, where it hath most
interest, by praying in an unknown tongue :
and this defect they make up with long con-
tinuance, and repetition of pater nosters,
with a devotion as cold and dead as the beads
they drop. And so they with their brevia-
ries, notwithstanding of their name, fall di.
rectly into this foolish, heathenish vanity of
idle length and repetitions.
Thus do we too, though we speak our own
known language, when either in secret or in
public we suffer our hearts to rove in prayer,
and hear not ourselves what we are praying
— how then can we expect that God should
hear us ?
If the affection can be brought to contmue
in it, prayer in secret cannot be too long :
but let us not think it >irtue enough that it
AN EXPOSITION OF
\s long, let it rather be brief with strong
bent of mind, than long without it ;" as a
small bod}', strong and full of spirits, is
much better than the greatest bulk that is
dull and spiritless. And when we pray in
company, because men cannot know the
temper of other men's hearts, usually a con-
venient midst, betwixt extremes, viz. brief-
ness and length, seems most suitable.
But, alas ! how few be there that keep
constant watch over their affections in prayer,
and endeavour to keep the heart bent to it
throughout ! Oh ! how much sin is com-
mitted by us this way that we observe not !
This is a great lesson, and requires still
our diligence, even all our lifetime, to learn
it better and better — how to pray.
We have here indeed a complete copy,
but we cannot follow it ; he that set it us
must put his Spirit within us, to lead our
hand and heart that we may follow it, as he
here shews how we should pray. We are
not born with this art, fimus oratores, and
I may add the other word, true of us, in re-
gard of our vanity of mind, and the devices
that aiise in it, nascimur poelce. Omnis
fictio cordig, &c. Gen. vi. 5 ; Eccles. vii.
29. We must have that spirit of his, the
Spirit of Prayer, to teach us effectually, and
make us learn this divine art of prayer, ac-
cording to his rules. Although we are thus
externally taught by our Saviour's doctrine,
yet unless we be taught within by the Spirit,
we are never the nearer, we know neither
what to ask, nor how to ask ; but that is a
happy supply, and they may rejoice in it
that have it, the Spirit of God " helping
their infirmities, and making intercession
for them." How should they speed in their
suits with God, that have both his own
Spirit interceding, by framing and inditing
their petitions, and his own Son interceding
at his right hand by his merits !
Our Father.
He that follows me (says our Saviour]
shall not walk in darkness. It is safest in
all our ways to be led by him, particularly
in our access to the Father by prayer ; he leads
us in by his intercession, through him we have
nira'yu'ynv, access, or rather adduction, takes
us by the hand to bring us to the throne of
grace, gives us his Spirit to frame our minds,
and teach us with what disposition to pray.
Here he leads us, by putting words in our
mouths, and furnishing us what to say.
1. The preface or compellation.
2. The petitions.
3. The conclusion.
1. By the preface we are in general taught
this (ere we consider particularly the words
of it) : 1. To endeavour to have right
thoughts and apprehensions of God, on whon
* Non est (ut quidam putant) orare in multilonuio,
si diutms oretur, allud «st sermo multus, aliud diu-
ttmius affectus. Absit multa loquutio, sed nonUesit
we call. 2. At our entry or beginning to
pray, to set ourselves before him, and him
before our own sight, to have the eye of our
mind set on that Deity we worship. This
would do much to the curing that common
disease of our prayers, the wandering and
roving of our minds ; an evil that they can-
not but be sensible of, an-d often bewail, they
that take any notice of their own inward
carriage with God, that trace their own hearts
and ask account of their behaviour in prayer."
Oh ! light, inconstant hearts ! (may they
say) as the Latin reads that, Ps. xl. 12,
Cor meum dereliquit me. How many regard
them not at all ! But they that do, find it
their ordinary trick to give them the slip.
And this is one great cause of our wanderings,
that we do not, at our entrance to prayer,
compose ourselves to due thoughts of God,
and to set ourselves in his presence ; this
would do much to awe us, and ballast our
minds, that they tumble not to and fro, as
is their custom. There be not many that
do, but it would prove, no doubt, much
help, would we task ourselves to this, never
to open our mouths to God, till the eye of
our soul were fixed upon him, and taken up
with considering of his presence. But of
this more when we come to these words, Who
art in heaven.
Our Father which art in heaven. Our
Father ; the mercy of God is in this, to
beget in us the confidence of faith ; in the
other, which art in heaven, the majesty of
God to work us to reverence ; though there
is somewhat in the word Father likewise to
persuade reverence, and something in the
other that confirms faith ; but more of this
hereafter ; yet if we take that which appears
most, and is predominant, the former
mainly supports faith, and the latter begets
humility.
The frame of it is extensive ; not My
Father, but Our Father, and so through-
out ; besides that it was a pattern both for
public and private prayer, and so it was fittest
to run in the larger and public style. It
doth, no doubt, (as all have taken it,) teach
the charitable extension of our prayers, where
they are most private, to take in with our
own, the good of others, and when we are
busiest and most particularly dealing for our-
selves, yet not to shut out our brethren. Let
the place and performance of secret prayer
be as private as may be, but the strain and
suits public, as well as personal. The most
private prayer of the godly is a public good,
and he loses nothing by that ; for, besides
that his particular is not hindered by taking
in others, he hath this gain, that by the
same reason he likewise hath a share in all
the prayers of others. And this (though
little considered by the most) is one point,
and not a small one, but a very profitable and
* Nihil est in nobis corde fugacius. GREO
THE LORD'S PRAYER.
463
comfortable point of that article of our faith,
the communion- of saints, that every be-
liever hath a share in all the prayers of all
the rest ; he is partner in every ship of that
kind that sets to sea, and hath a portion ol
all their gainful voyages.
But he that in prayer minds none but
himself, doubtless he is not right in minding
himself; howsoever, this he may be sure of,
that in keeping out others from his prayers,
he bars himself from the benefit of all others
prayers likewise. Si pro te solo oras, pro
te solus oras. St. Ambrose. So that self-
love itself may here plead for love to our
brethren. Forget not the church of God,
and to seek the good of Zion ; it is not only
your duty, but your benefit. Are you not
all concerned in it, if indeed you be parts of
that mystical body ? And it hinders not at
all, but rather advances your personal suits
at God's hands, when he sees your love to
your brethren, and desire for the church's
good. Let not therefore any estate, no pri-
vate perplexity or distress, nor very sorrow
for sin, take you so up, as to be all for your-
selves ; let others, but especially the public
condition of the church of God, find room
with you. We find it thus with David, when
he was lamenting his own case, Psalm li.,
and Psalm xxv. 22, and elsewhere ; yet he
forgets not the church : In thy good pleasure
do good to Zion, and build up the walls of
Jerusalem. So then let this be the constant
tenor of your prayers, even in secret : when
thou prayest alone, shut thy door, says our
Saviour here ; shut out as much as thou canst
the sight and notice of others, but shut not
out the interest and good of others ; say,
I Our Father, as the Heathen call their God,
<U UtCTtlf, &C.
Father. He is indeed our Father,* as the
author of our being, beyond all the visible
creatures ; he breathed upon man the breath
of life. But the privilege of this our natural
relation, the sin of our nature hath made
fruitless and comfortless to us, till we be restor-
ed by grace, and made partakers of a new son-
ship : we are indeed the workmanship of God,
but being defaced by sin, and considered in
that estate, our true name is children of wrath.
But the sonship that emboldens us to draw
near unto God as our Father, is derived from
his only-begotten Son. He became the Son
of Man, to make us anew the sons of
Being thus restored, we may in-
look back upon our creation, and
God.
deed
draw out of it to use in prayer with God,
that we are his creatures, the workmanship
of his hands, and Jie in that sense our Fa-
ther. But by reason of our rebellion, this
argument is not strong enough alone, but
must be supported with this other, as the
main ground of our comfort, that wherein
the strength of our confidence lies, that ha
Arls xvli. 28.
is our Father in his Son Chritt ; that by
faith we are invested into a new sonship, and
by virtue of that may call him Father, and
move him by that name to help and answer
us, John i. 12. «' To as many as received
him, he gave power to become the sons of
God." Our adoption holds in Jesus Christ
as the head of this fraternity ; therefore he
says, / go to my Father, and your Father,
to my God, and your God. He says not, to
our Father and our God, but severally, mine
and yours ; teaching us the order of the new
covenant, that the Sonship of Jesus Christ is
not only more eminent in nature, but in order,
is the spring and cause of ours, as St. Cyril
well observes.* So then he that here puts
this word in our mouths, to call God Fa-
ther, he it is by whom we have this dignity
and comfort that we call him so.
But this adoption is accompanied (that
we think it not a naked external name) with
a real change, and so great a change, that it
bears the name of that which is the real
ground of sonship ; it is called regeneration.
And these are inseparable ; there be no sons
of God by adoption, but such as are withal
his sons by regeneration and new birth : there
is a new life breathed into them from God ;
lie is not only the Father of Spirits, by their
first infusion into the body, and enlivening
it by them, but by this new infusion of grace
into the souls of men, (as it seems to signify
there, Heb. xii., where he is speaking of
spiritual sons,) and enlivening them by it,
which were dead without it, as the body is
without them ; and the Spirit of God renew-
"ng them, is the Spirit of adoption by which
they cry, Abba, Father. He gives them a
supernatural life by this Spirit sent into their
:iearts, and the Spirit, by that regeneration
which he works, ascertains them of that adop-
tion which is in Christ Jesus, and in the persua-
iion of both they call upon God as their Father.
So then you that would have this confi-
dence in approaching to God to call him Fa-
ther, lay hold on Jesus Christ as the foun-
tain of sonship ; offer not to come unto God,
but through him, and rest not satisfied with
yourselves, nor your prayers, till you find
some evidence that you are in him. And
know that there is no evidence of your portion
in the Son, but by the Spirit, therefore call-
ed the " Spirit of the Son, by which we call
God, Father," Gal. iv. 6. See whether the
Spirit of God dwells and rules in your hearts ;
for they that have not the Spirit of God are
none of his, says the apostle ; but in the
same chapter he assures you, that as many
as are led by the Spirit of God, they are
undoubtedly the sons of God.
If you, then, call on the name of God, and
particularly by this name, your Father, de-
part from iniquity ; be ashamed to pretend
to be his sons, and yet be so unlike him,
Cyril. Micros. Catech.
464
AN EXPOSITION OF
wallowing in sin. It cannot be that the sons
of so holy a God, can be altogether unholy,
and delight to be so ; no, though they can-
not be perfectly free from impurity, yet they
that are indeed his children, do certainly
hate impurity, because he hates it.
Do you draw near unto God in his Son
Christ ? Do you give yourselves up to be
thoii, though thou sawest his hand, as it
were, ready to throw thee into hell, yet cry
to him still, and use this very name, Father,
reject me not ; never any perished with such
a purpose.
Who art in heaven.
Serve the Lord wilh fear, and rejoice
with trembling. This compilation taken
led by his Spirit ?" Then you may account, together, and rightly understood, works that
and call him your Father ; and if you may due temper of prayer, the mixture of these
use this word, there is abundance of sweet
ness in it ; it is a spring of comfort that can
not run dry, and it hath influence into al
the petitions ; as likewise the other word
which art in heaven ; " thou that art st
great and so good." Whose name and whos
kingdom should we desire to be advanced si
much as our own Fathei's, our heavenly Fa
ther's ; and his will to be obeyed on earth
as it is in heaven ? Of whom should we seel
our daily bread, but of our Father, and es
pecially so rich a Father, possessor of heaven
and earth ; and forgiveness of our graciou
Father, and conduct and protection ? In thi
hardest condition that can befal you, ye maj
come to your Father ; all the world canno
bar your access ; and there is no child ma;
go to his father with any suit with more con
fidence, than you may to your Father. Am
}f there be mercy and power enough in God
thou cannot miss of help ; he hath the bowels
of a Father, Psalm ciii. 13, yea, says our
Saviour, " Can you that are evil give your
children good things ? How much more wil
your heavenly Father !" &c. The love of pa-
rents to their children they have from him ;
he hath given it to nature, so it is but a drop
to the ocean of fatherly love that is in him-
self.* Let not then un worthiness scare his
children ; parents love their children, and do
them good ; not because they see they are
more worthy than others, for it may be far
otherwise, but because they are their own.
Yea, though we have run astray from him,
and forgot very far the duty of children, yet
he cannot forget the love of a Father ; and
our best is to return to him, it cannot be well
with us so long as we go any whither else.
The prodigal found it so, and therefore,
though he was convinced of that, that he was
unworthy to be called his son, yet he resolves
to return — / will go to my Father. Yea,
though to thy sense he should seem to reject
thee, yet let not go this hold, if thou hast
but a desire to believe in him and love him,
though thou canst find no more ; and even
while thou doubtest whether he is thy Father
or no, yet press him with the name, call him
Father, speak to him as thy Father ; Jesus
his Son, in whom he is well pleased, doth
warrant thee. " Though he slay me, yet
will I trust in him," says Job. So resolve
• Ante petitionem magnam accepimus, nt possitnus
Jirere, Pater, quid enim jam non det filils petentibus
pater, qui jam lino ipsiim <tedit ut csspnl fill! 1 S. Arc.
two, joy and fear, confidence and reverence.
There was some such thing spoke of Augus-
tus, but it is most true of the Divine Majesty,
that they that dare speak rashly to him,
know not his greatness ; and they that dare
not speak to him, (provided it be with due
reverence and respect,) know not his good .
ness.
That we all invocate one Father, teaches
that new law of love one to another, which
our Saviour, the author of this prayer, so often
recommends, and makes the very badge of
his disciples. It serves to comfort the mean-
est, and to abate the loftiness of the greatest
that pray thus, as St. Augustine well ob-
serves, that they all meet and agree in this ;
the greatest kings, and their meanest sub-
jects, all must speak to God as their Father,
not only all alike having their being from
him as the Father of the spirits of all flesh,
but the same adoption belonging unto all,
high and low, that are believers. All the
pomp and command and pleasures of princes,
cannot make them happy without this grace
of adoption, and no outward baseness pre-
judges any, but they may be happy by par.
taking of it. In this likewise is very clear
our lesson of love to God, because our Fa-
ther; for though (as they say,) love doth
descend much more than it ascends, and is
lere most of all verified, yet it doth ascend
from the children to their parents by way of
reflection, especially from the sons of God to
lim as a Father, who is love itself. And as
his name draws the soul to the throne of
jrace with assured expectation of mercy, so
t commands withal (as we said) honour and
reverence ; especially being accompanied with
.his other word, that mainly enforces that
[a tt mi; tyfatuf,) in the heavens, answering
the Hebrew word, which is plural, and signi.
"ying that the glorious God is above all the
isible heavens ; and thus the profane authors
speak of God likewise, virt^rara. 1u(ia,ra. va/ao.
We know, although we are guilty of much
brgetting it, that the Lord is every where
>resent, neither excluded not included any
where ; that he fills all places, not as con-
ained in them, but containing them, and up-
lolding them, and all things in them. But
ie is in heaven after a special manner, in
be brightest manifestation of himself, and
he purest service performed to him there.
They cannot contain him, as Solomon ex-
resses it, 1 Kings viii. 27 ; yet his throne «
THE LORD'S PRAYER.
U there, there he dwells, as in his principal
palace, in greatest majesty, as David teach-
es us, Psalm xi. 4, and often elsewhere. But
that he is not shut up there, and regardless
of things below, we learn in that same place ;
for he adds, His eyes behold, and his eye-
lids try, the children of men.
This is added, 1. For distinction ; as the
apostle, differencing him from the fathers of
our flesh, calls him Father of Spirits : so
here, from earthly fathers, our heavenly Fa-
ther.
Observe, We cannot here know God ac-
cording to what he is in himself, and there-
fore he is described to our capacity, and to
our profit, so as we are able, and as it most
concerns us to know him here, by his gra-
cious relation to us as our Father, and by
the excellency of his dwelling, as a sign of
his greatness, that he is in heaven ; both
which are extrinsical to his essence. But
thus we may learn thus much to worship and
love him as the best and greatest, infinitely
exceeding all that we can conceive of him.
2. As it is for distinction, so it is such a
word of difference as is of excellent use,
1. To make the soul humble and reverent
in approaching to God in prayer ; if we con-
sider it, shall we not be wary how we behave
ourselves in the presence of so great a King ?
It is very strange that our souls should not
be possessed with the deepest lowliness and
self-abasement in the sight of God ; worms
in the dust, before the majesty that dwells
in heaven ! This Solomon expresses, " He
is in heaven, and thou on earth, therefore
let thy words be few." What is this we
find in ourselves that makes us so drunk
with self-conceit, not only in converse one
with another, but with God ? Surely we
know him not, at least we consider not who
he is, and where he dwells, and who we are,
and where we dwell. Surely it would lay us
low, if, when we come before God, we would
consider him as the most glorious King sit-
ting on his throne, and compassed with glo-
rious spirits, that offer him spotless .praises,
and we ourselves coming before him, as
base frogs creeping out of our pond, where
we dwell amidst the mire of sinful pollu-
tions.
Thus indeed his highness should humble
us in coming, but it should not affright us
from coming before him ; for though he is
in heaven, and we on earth, yet he is our
Father : thus ought we to join these two, and
behold them jointly, that we may have that
right posture of mind by them that suits with
prayer — humble boldness.
There may be undue distrust, but there
cannot be too much humility of spirit in
prayer. The more humble, the fitter to come
to God ; and he the more willing to come
into the soul, and dwell in it ; for that is the
other house that he hath chosen. Tl<ev seem
45 1
very ill suited together ; if the highest hen-
vens be the Lord's one dwelling, it would
seem fit that the other should be the richest
palaces on earth, or stately built temples.
No, the other is such a one as we most despise,
but God prefers before other, even the most
sumptuous building : Isa. Ivii. 15, " Thus
saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth
eternity, whose name is Holy ; I dwell in
the high and holy place, with him also (a
strange also) that is of a broken and humble
spirit," &c. The highest heavens are the
habitation of his glory, and the humble heart
hath the next honour, to be the habitation
of his grace.
2. As the word humbles the soul in God's
sight, so it elevates it to heaven where God
dwells, and fixes it there in prayer ; and this
elevation is not contrary to humility : the
soul that is laid lowest in itself, is most
sublime in converse with God.* And thus
ought our hearts to ascend in prayer, which,
alas ! we usually suffer to lag and draw the
wing heavily on the earth. " Unto thee, O
Lord," says the Psalmist, Ps. xxv. 1, "do
I lift up my soul ;" that is the right and na-
tural motion of prayer. But there is another
lifting up, that our souls are better acquaint-
ed with, which is spoken of in the Psalm
immediately foregoing, that lifting up of
the soul unto vanity ; and the more so life
up, the further off from God. O the vain-
ness of our hearts ! and how hard is it to
establish them on him that dwells on high }
Even while we are speaking to him, we suf-
fer them to break loose and rove, and to en-
tertain foolish thoughts ; we should not use
a king or great person so, nor any man whom
we respect, when we are speaking to him se-
riously, to intermix impertinencies and forget
what we are saying : but we dare offer gross
nonsense to the all-wise God ; though the
words go on in good sense, yet the prayer is
so to him, when the heart intermixes vain
thoughts. Polum terra miscet, confuses and
spoils all. And this is the great task, (as
we have said,) to bring the heart before God;
to set it on his holy mountain in heaven,
while we pray, (it should be so certainly,)
and leave servile earthly thoughts at the foot
of the mount.
3. It gives confidence. 1 . Of the power
of God, his rich ability to grant all our re-
quests : he, that Lord of all, and as greatest
possessor, hath his throne in the highest
heavens, and doth what pleaseth him in
heaven and in earth ; this, with the other,
completes our comfort, good-will and power,
our Father, in heaven. And this we may
.apply to all our wants for assurance of sup-
ply, and to all our enemies, and the church's
enemies, that our prayer shall be heard for
their foil and disappointment. u He sits in
heaven and laughs," Psalm ii. 4. " They
• Snblimiterhumiliicthumiliterrublimis. & CYW.
450
rage, and tumult, and consult," &c. A
great bustle and noise they keep, and he sits
and laughs at them ; he scorns all their proud
attempts : for that with ease he can scatter
them hi a moment ; one word of his mouth
overturns them and all their contrivances.
2. It is a confirmation of our portion in
heaven : if he who is in heaven be our Fa-
ther, then our inheritance lies there, in that
land of peace where it cannot be lost or im-
paired, and he will bring his children to the
possession of it. To be the sons of God, is
not a style without an estate, an empty title ;
no, he that makes ns sons, makes us heirs
likewise ; Sons we are in Christ, and co-
heirs with Christ. He came down to earth
for this purpose, to make a new purchase of
heaven for us, and he is returned thither to
prepare it for us. " I go to prepare a place
for you, that where I am, ye may be also."
Hallowed be thy name.
The sense of many wants and necessities
drives a Christian daily to God in prayer,
yet, certainly, that which draws him most
strongly to it is of a higher nature, — the
sense of his duty to God, and the delight he
hath to do that homage and honour to him ;
and therefore in prayer the main current of
.his heart runs that way, and so agrees with
this pattern given us by our Saviour ; wherein
we see clearly, tl»at our prime desires are to
be bestowed on the glory of God, and that
not only placed first, as to be preferred before
all other suits, but to be regarded still in all
the rest, and they all referred to it. And to
make the impression of this desire the deeper
on our hearts, and to give the fuller vent of
it in expression to them that have it, there
are, you see, three of these six petitions spent
on it ; this is the first of them, Hallowed be
thy name. This suits well with the style
here given to God, Our Father. If I be a
Father, where \* my honour ? says the Lord
by his prophet. And here his children are
taught to join these two together, thou art
our Father, and so glorious a Father dwell-
ing in heaven ; therefore our desire is, that
thou mayest have honour, that thy name may
be hallowed, and thy kingdom come. We
will inquire,
1. What is meant by this name. 2.
What is the hallowing or sanctifying it.
3. What the petition itself is.
Briefly, his name is himself, as he is made
known to us, and conceivable by us, and
differenced from all other beings, as men are
by their names one from another ; for to this
purpose are all these several names and at-
tributes given him that we find in scripture,
that we may so conceive of himself as here
we are capable.
2. To sanctify his name (we know) can-
not be to infuse holiness into it, or effec-
tually to make it holy ; for neither can we so
any thing holy, nor can the name of
AN EXPOSITION OF
God be so made holy, for it is most holy of
itself, y.ea he is holiness itself, and the foun-
tain of all holiness ; but according to the
double sense of the word blessing, as mutual
betwixt God and man, so is this of sanctify,
ing. " Blessed be the God (says the apos-
tle, Eph. i. 3.) and Father of our Lord Jesus
Christ, who hath blessed us with all spiri-
tual blessings." His benedicere is bene-
facere ; he blesseth us really, as the giver
of all blessings, and of blessedness itself ; and
our blessing him is no other but the acknow-
ledging of this, that it is he that blesseth us,
and praising him for it. Thus he sanctifies
us, makes us holy, purifies us by his Spirit
from our natural unholiness and filthiness,
according to his promise, Ezek. xxxvi. 25,
and according to our Saviour's prayer, John
xvii. 17 ; and we sanctify the Lord and hi*
name, (as here, and Isa. viii. 13,) when we
know and acknowledge that he is holy, and
use his name holily ; and thus they only
sanctify, who affectionately pray thus, that
his name may be sanctified, whose hearts he
hath first sanctified, and made them holy.
More particularly and distinctly, the sanc-
tifying of God's name hath in it these things:
1. To have right thoughts of the holiness
and majesty of God. 2. That upon so con-
ceiving of him, our hearts be reverently af-
fected towards him. 3. Not only to have that
due apprehension and reverence of his holi-
ness in the habit, and so let it lie dead with-
in us, but often to stir up ourselves to the re-
membrance and consideration of it, to call in
our thoughts to act about it ; so this will in-
crease our knowledge and reverence, (as all
habits grow by acting,) and will excite the
soul to praise him, as the Psalmist speaks —
Give thanks at the remembrance of his holi-
ness. 4. The declaring and extolling of his
holiness, speaking upon all seasonable occa-
sions honourably of his name. 5. The hum-
ble sense and acknowledgement of our own
unholiness in his presence ; and, therefore,
all those lowly confessions of sins, and of
their own unworthiness, that we find in the
prayers of the prophets, are so many hallow-
ings of the name of God, giving the glory of
holiness to him alone, and taking with the
shame of their own pollutions, thus Dan. ix.,
Isa. Ixiv. 7, &c.; as some of the Americans
have a custom when they appear before their,
king to put on their worst apparel, that all
the magnificence may rest upon him alone,
and appear the better. Thus, though the
majesty of God, in itself being infinite, needs
nothing else to commend it, yet, to our ap-
prehension of it, it may be thus ; and the
saints, in desire of his glory, may intend this
to set off the lustre of his purity and excel-
lency in the humble confessions of their own
vileness ; To thee, O Lord, belongeth righ-
teousness, but to us confusion of face. 6.
The hallowing of (Jod's name is an earnest
THE LORD'S PKAVER.
•157
endeavour of conformity with him in holi-
ness ; first in heart, that must be the prin-
cipal seat of it, and then holiness in all our
words and actions, and the whole course of,
our lives. This is that which the Lord per-j
petually presses upon his people, Be ye holy, \
for I am holy ; and this is the most effec-
tual sanctifying of his name by way of de-
claring it holy, when his people walk in holi-
ness. Though you tell the world that he
is holy, they know him not, they can neither
see him nor his holiness.; but when they see
that there are men taken out of the same
lump of polluted nature with themselves, and
yet so renewed and changed, that they hate
the defilements of the world, and do indeed
live holily in the midst of a perverse genera-
tion, this may convince them that there is a
brighter spring of holiness where it is in fid-
ness, from whence these drops are that they
perceive in meii ; for seeing it is not in na-
ture, there must be another principle of it,
and that can be no other but this holy God ;
thus is his name hallowed, and he known to
be holy by the holiness of his people. So,
I hen, the petition takes in all, and in it we
desire the sanctifying and magnifying of
God's name in every possible way : 1. By
ourselves, that we may mind his glory, and
by his grace sanctify his name. 2. By others,
that our Lord may be more known and ho-
noured in the world ; they would gladly have
many hearts and many tongues brought in to
confess the Lord, and his holiness and great-
ness. Thus the Psalmist stirs up the angels
to bless the Lord, (Psalm ciii. 20,) not that
they need exciting, but to shew his own af-
fection to God's praises. 3. And because
there is still some alloy and mixture of un-
holiness in all the hallowing of his name here
below, all our services stained ; therefore, as
the godly do, in this request, wish all the
exalting and sanctifying of God's name
among men that is attainable here, so, I con-
ceive, they do as it were applaud to those
purer services and praises that are given him
above ; and, sensible how far they fall short
themselves, they are glad to think that there
be such multitudes of angels, and glorified
spirits, hallowing and praising his name
better and more constantly, not ceasing day
nor night to cry, Holy, holy, holy, Lord God
Almighty. And here they follow as they
can, and give their acclamation, though in
a lower key, yet as loud as they are able,
Even so, Lord, hallowed be thy name. Now
the cause and source of this their great desire
af exalting and hallowing the name of God,
is their love to him, which the sight that he
hath given them of his excellency hath kin-
died in their hearts.
After that, their chief delight is to think
of him, and speak of his name ; gladly would
they have him highly esteemed by all, and
this is their grief, that they can find so few
to bear them company, and help them in
this, in hallowing and extolling his name,
which is so deep engraven on their hearts.
See how pathetically the Psalmist repeats
that again and again, Psalm cvii., O that
men would praise the Lord for his goodness,
and his wonderful works to the children of
men. And when they hear or see any thing
tending to the dishonour of his name, this
wounds them, and pierces them through as a
sword, as the Psalmist speaks. They are
far from envy or evil eye, yea, they rejoice
in the gifts and graces that God bestows up-
on others, although it be beyond what they
have themselves ; for still it serves their de-
sires, and answers what they are most earnest
in ; it tends to the hallowing and glorifying
of the name of God. And what they have
themselves, they are not in danger to grow
vain upon it ; rather they wonder at the free
grace of God, and extol that, and think with
themselves, " What am I, that he should
have had compassion on me, and plucked me
out of the crowd of the lost world, and given
me any desire to hallow his name, while
others are blaspheming it, and delighting to
dishonour it ?" But ever the more they re-
ceive from God they are the more humble,
the more desirous of his praise, and regard-
less of their own. Any holiness that is in
them they know well is from him, and there-
fore all the glory of holiness must return
thither, from whence holiness originally
comes ; and the very end for which they de-
sire increase of holiness in themselves, is to
the end, that they may the more hallow his
name, from whom they have it ; and by the
increase of their stock, there may be an in-
crease of the tribute of praise to God.
But, alas, how far are we from this mind !
What hypocrisy is it, for the same mouth to
utter this request, that dare profane the name
of God by vain swearing ! That which is
holy, as the Hebrew word imports, is separat-
ed from common use, (although it was not
holy before,), and ought not to be profaned ;
least of all this name, that is not made holy
by such a separation, but is primitively holy
in itself; and they that use it rashly and un-
holily, are deeply guilty of despising the
majesty of God. It is not possible that any
that is truly sensible of his greatness and
holiness, can customarily abuse his name,
that blessed name that he hopes to bless foi
ever. You say, it is your custom : it is a
wonder to hear men speak thus as an excuse;
it is the deepest accusation. Are not men
known by their customs ! Do not those dis-
cover what they are ? It is your custom !
What gain you by that ? You must confess
it is such a one as is the custom of the chil-
dren of Satan, the professed enemy of God's
name, as the delight and custom of hallow-
ing his name is the "badge of his children.
-. It is your custom ; then, know it is his
458
AN EXPOSITION OF
custom not to acquit them, but make then
feel the weight of his punishing hand, tha
dare make it a custom to dishonour his name
Again, they that profane his holy day, they
that sanctify not his name by calling on i
daily in private, and generally all that by ar
uiwanctified life do blot the profession o
Christians, what do they mean to lie so
grossly, not unto men but unto God, to hi
face, in praying thus ; as if they desired the
hallowing of his name by all, and yet do no
thing but unhallow it themselves ? Think i
not sufficient to the hallowing of his name
that his house and worship is purged o
abuses ; though they be holy, yet, unless w<
ourselves be holy too, we pollute all in on
use of them, the worship, and sabbaths, am
name of God, our filthy hands defile all. Le
us not thus provoke God, lest in just wrath
and punishments, he sanctify his own nam<
upon us, which we profane, as he threatens
against the Jews by his prophets.
Be not satisfied to think slightly and su
perficially of God ; take time to consider
him, and know who he is ; and then you wil
reverence him in your thoughts. It deserves
and requires all the whole heart to be taken
up with it ; and, alas ! what is a heart, a
narrow thing, though the largest of hearts
as Solomon's, large as the sand of the sea
to an infinite God ! We can find time for
our earthly thoughts, and for vain, foolisl
thoughts, that are good for nothing ; am
shall we shut out God, or think any sudden
passing look enough for him ? 2. Behave
yourselves with regard of him in his worship,
let holy things be done holily. 3. Honour
it in your lives ; especially such as do know
his name, grow daily more respective anc
tender of it, and be more circumspect in your
; and ax he who hath called you is holy,
so be ye holy in all manner of conversation.
Thy kingdom come. He that is the be-
ginning of all things, must likewise of neces-
sity be the end of them all ; and then are our
intentions rightest and purest, when we are
most possessed with the desire of that
highest end, the glory of God, and look
straightest into it ; and if this purpose ought
to diffuse through all our actions, certainly
in prayer it should be most lively and active,
because prayer is so direct and express a
turning of the face of the soul unto God,
and setting of its eye upon him. Therefore,
this petition follows forth the same desire
with the former, wishing honour to God.
He is a most holy God, and the former re-
quest was for his glory in that, in the sancti-
fying of his name ; he is a King, a great
King, the greatest of all, and this wishes his
glory in that sense, that his kingdom may
be advanced. Thy kingdom come. 1. We
r»hall inquire what his kingdom is ; 2. what
is the coming of it ; and, 3. shall speak of
the petition itself.
This kingdom is not his universal supre-
macy over all the world, and all the creatures
in it, as being their Maker and their Pre-
server, and so having the highest and justest
title, and the most absolute kind of dominion
over all things ; but his peculiar royalty over
his church. By the former he is called King
of nations, Jer. x. 7, and by the latter, his
style is King of saints, Rev. xv. 3. Of
the former the Psalmist speaks, Psalm xxiv.
1 ; but that which he adds, ver. 3, concerns
the latter, and so on in the Psalm, and ver.
7, " Lift up your heads, O ye gates, that
the King of glory may come in."
This kingdom is gathered and selected
out of the other, and though the less in
quantity, yet in God's account the far more
precious than all the rest ; the church is the
Jewel in the ring of the world, in it he hath
his peculiar residence and chief delight ; as
kings choose one of their palaces, and (if
they have more) one of their kingdoms to
dwell in more than another. Those things
that are hid from the rest of the world con-
cerning this King, are made known to his
subjects of this his select kingdom, and it
is in it that he opens up, displays after a
special manner more than all the world be-
sides, both the glory of his majesty, and the
riches of his bounty, here in part, and fully
hereafter, and according to that difference it
is distinguished • into the kingdom of grace
and that of glory.
The kingdom of grace is to be considered,
1. In the external means and administration
of it. 2. In its inward being and power. In
the former sense, it is of a larger extent ; but
in the latter, of a more uniform nature in
itself, and more conform to its head. The
former, the kingdom of grace in its outward
administration, is plainly the whole visible
church ; but the inward power of the king-
dom of grace, is only in the hearts of those
that are truly sanctified, and members of the
invisible church.
Jesus Christ is ordained and anointed the
King and Head of both, political ; but of
the one, natural, and therefore altogether in-
dissoluble, not only in regard of the whole,
but of each part and member of it.
The visible church is but a little parcel,
a kingdom chosen out of the world ; but
the truly godly, that are alone the subjects
of the inward kingdom of grace, are but a
small part of that part, a choice part of the
visible church, as it is a choice part of the
visible world.
Now these three, the kingdom of glory,
and those two kinds of the kingdom of grace,
stand in this subordination ; the inward king-
dom of grace, is the way and preparation for
hat of glory,and the outward kingdom of grace
n the visible church, is the means and way of
jroducing, and establishing, and increasing
he inward ; so that both of them look for-
THE LORD S PKAYER.
459
.ward to the kingdom of glory, as their ut-
most end, and shall terminate and end in it.
The first of these, the external or political
kingdom of Christ in the visible church, con-
sists in his absolute and supreme authority,
to appoint the laws of his church, and rulers
by these laws. And the use of the word,
and sacraments, and discipline, according to
his own appointment, is the acknowledge-
ment of him as King of his church.
The other, the inward kingdom of grace,
is then received in the heart, when the Spirit
of God moves it to a willing subjection to
Jesus Christ, and the whole soul submits it-
self to be governed by him ; he enters indeed
by conquest, and, yet is most gladly received;
it is both a lawful and a favourable conquest,
because he frees the soul, which is his by so
many rights, from the tyranny of a most cruel
usurper, the prince of darkness, and brings
in a kingdom full of sweetness and happi-
ness : there is no worse in it than these,
" righteousness, and peace, and joy in the
Holy Ghost."
This is the folly of an unbelieving mind,
that it entertains most false prejudices against
the kingdom of Christ, thinks that if it let
him in, it shall be controlled and curbed,
and therefore resolves against it, and studies
how to hold him out, consults (as it is in
the 2d Psalm) against the Lord and his
anointed. But this is a lamentable madness,
to dream of liberty in the midst of chains,
and to be afraid of a deliverer ; there is no
soul that opens to this King of glory, but
can testify that it never knew what true liberty
was, till it admitted this kingdom of God,
till there was a throne for Christ erected with-
in it.
The third, the kingdom of glory, would
you hear wherein that consists ? It is such
as we cannot hear, nor speak of as it is. And
this indeed says more of it than all we can
say, that the excellency of it is unspeakable,
yea, unconceivable : this we are sure of, to
speak comparatively of it, (which is our help
in things we understand not in themselves,)
that all the kingdoms of the world, unite all
their glory together, are base and poor in
respect of it, but splendida in serico, and
that all the delights we have here, not only
of nature, but even of grace, are less to it than
the smallest sparkle is to the sun in its bright-
ness. All that is done here by our King
Christ, in the ruling of his church, and
power of his ordinances, and bestowing of
graces on his own, are but preludes and pre-
parations for that, and when that cometh,
this way of ruling his church and people shall
cease, as having attained its end. Christ
shall deliver up the kingdom to the Father ;
word and sacraments and discipline shall be
at an end, and then God shall be all in all.
2. The coming of the kingdom of God
in the former two, i» the extending and
spreading of them to those places and persons
that have not yet received them, the increase
of their power where they are entertained ;
for they come gradually, and that kingdom
of glory, as it is concerned in the other, come§
forward in them, so far, and hastens towards
its perfection ; but in itself as their consum-
mation, it shall come at once altogether in
the end of time.
3. So then in the petition all these are in-
cluded, and in their largest extent ; for it is
to take it too narrow and too low, to restrain
it only to our own interest in this kingdom,
either of grace or glory, or both. Thus
David excites all to praise the Lord, Ps.
ciii., but most his own soul begins with that,
and ends with it. Although all they thai
desire it aright, do desire that they may par.
take of it, (for if they desire that God may
be glorified, they cannot but, even out of love
to that glory, beside their own happiness,
desire that they themselves may be among
those that may honour God as the subjects
of his kingdom,) yet they stay not there, but
dilate their hearts to wish the advancement
and accomplishment of his kingdom in the
elect, and in all those ways that tend to it ;
and their love may rise to that high strain,
as without considering their own interest at
all, yea, supposing that they were to be shut
out of his kingdom themselves, yet still to
wish, Thy kingdom come. " Let others en-
joy and bless thee, Lord, for ever, even
though I should be excluded : let thine elect
be gathered, though I were none of them :
be thou great, O Lord, whatsoever become
of me."
1. Considering what a height of glory will
arise to God out of the final subduing of his
enemies, and full deliverance of his church,
and the bringing home all his children after
all their sufferings and sorrows, to sit down
together to that great marriage-supper of the
Lamb ; they cannot but thus breathe forth
their longings and wishes, that that time
may be hastened, and the fulness of their
Lord's kingdom accomplished, where it shall
abide for all eternity.
2. Both in relation to that end, and like-
wise in respect of the very present glory that
redounds to God in it, they earnestly desire
the advancement and enlargement of Christ'i
kingdom here on earth. For besides that
thus it is rising to its perfection, it is no
small present glory to our King Christ, as a
testimony of his invincible power, that he
rules in the very midst of his enemies, and
in despite of them all, Ps. ex. 2. ; not only
sits sure and keeps his own, thrust at him
who will, but when he pleases, gains upon
them, and enlarges his territories, and grows
greater by their resistances and oppositions.
He is here, as David, often assaulted, and
put to defend his kingdom often in war,
but always a conqueror ; but,, after tlis mi-
4CO
AN EXPOSITION OF
peace
litant kingdom he shall be as Solomon, who
likewise typified him, reigning in perfect
Now, because the enemies of his kingdom
are not yet, as they shall be, all under his
feet, but round about him, and incessantly
plotting and working against him, and Satan
hath his kingdom and his throne in the
world opposite to Christ; therefore this is
one chief point of this request, that all ad-
verse power may be brought low, that all his
enemies may lick the dust, and melt before
him as wax before the fire : and for us, es-
pecially in these times, that that kingdom of
antichrist, the son of perdition, may, answer-
ably to that his name, be brought to perdi-
tion ; that God would remember his promise ;
(for the faithful are called his remembrancers,
though he forgets not, and hath his set time
for judgment, yet he loves to be stirred up
by the cries of his children ;) that he would
make good at length those words he hath
spoken of Babel's ruin, and the flourishing
estate of his church in these latter times ;
that the power of the word, and purity of re
ligion, maugre all the policy and power of
men opposing it, may spread and extend it-
self, and make irresistible progress, as the
sun in his course ; that Jesus Christ may
be daily taking further possession of the na-
tions, even to the ends of the earth, accord-
ing to the patent of his Father's donation
And the certainty of its endurance and growth
till it be complete, should not abate, but in-
crease the vigour of our prayers for it ; am
the nearer things are their accomplishment
the more usually the Lord excites the hopes
and prayers of his people about them, am
they pray the more earnestly, Dan. ix., mov-
ing naturally in it, and therefore fastest when
nearest their place.
Again, we pray in this, that where Chris
doth reign in his outward ordinances, there
he would bring in his spiritual kingdom int<
the souls of men, that sinners may be con
verted unto him : the love of the glory o
Jesus Christ will desire this earnestly, tha
many hearts may be brought in to submit t
him ; for the glory of a king is in the mul
titude of his subjects. Further, that they
who are his people may grow more conforrr
to his laws ; that his dominion may be mor
powerful in their hearts and lives ; and par
ticularly, that we ourselves may find it so
You that will not receive the kingdom o
God within yourselves, to what purpose d
you speak this, as if you desired it to be en
larged, and flourish abroad ? You can hav
no comfort in it, remaining slaves to sin
and so enemies indeed to it ; neither th
kingdom of Christ in the government of th
church, on the one side, nor, on the other
the coming of his kingdom of glory, can d
you any benefit, wbJle the third is wanting
the inward kingdom of his grace, which i
ic true end of the former, and means to par-
ike of the happiness of the latter. Why
rish you the day of the Lord ? As the pro-
het says of that day he there speaks of,
Mistake it not, though that day of his king-
cm shall be all glory in itself, it shall be
o you, remaining still impenitent, darkness
nd not light, full of horror and amazement.
2. A s you can have no comfort in his king-
lorn, so you cannot really wish its advance-
ment ; you wish it well elsewhere, as if you
•ere content it should be any where, rathei
ban within yourselves. But would you in-
leed have this kingdom to be embraced
and advanced, then do, for one, let him be
hy King ; first give him thine own heart,
then wish him many more, for then thou
wilt wish it heartily and truly. You that
lave received this kingdom, yet have need
still, even in that sense, to wish the coming
of it in further degrees and fuller efficacy,
find you not many rebels yet unsubdued ?
No doubt they that search and know their
own hearts, will, and often do complain of
them to their King. " O such swarms of
fusts, and unruly, irregular desires ! When
shall they all be brought into subjection ?"
And so they lift up their wish, from this to
the other, the full and glorious kingdom,
and say again, Thy kingdom come. This is
the noble desire that takes up the hearts of
the godly, while others are desiring and pur-
suing low, base things ; their minds, and
their endeavour to their power, are chiefly
set upon this, the advancement of the king-
dom of God. They seek not themselves,
and their own things, with the world, to the
prejudice of this kingdom ; no, they desire
to lose any thing, to suffer contempts and
abasements themselves, so this kingdom may
flourish. St. Paul cares not what he be ac-
counted, modo magnificetur Christus, Phil.
i. 20, as the faithful ministers of state, (and
wise princes choose such,) that are not mak-
ing up themselves to their master's disad-
vantage, but always perferring his honour
to their private benefit, feeling his losses and
gains more than their own ; as was said of
St. Augustine, Dominicis semper lucris
gaudens, et damnis mcerens. This is the
right temper of the servants and ministers of
Jesus Christ, to be all for their master, will-
ing that their name, and estates, and lives,
and all, may make a part of his footstool to
step up to his throne ; not forced, as his
enemies, to be so, but willingly laying them-
selves low for his glory. And this comfort
they have, that when his kingdom shall
come in its fulnese, and all his enemies shall
be trodden down for ever, then they shall be
glorified with him, and shall see his glory
with exceeding joy. Therefore do they so
often desire his coming, and are so weary of
all they see here : and when he says himself,
for their assurance and comfort, Surely I
THE LORD'S PRAYER.
401
come quickly, their earnest desire makes kingdom ; another part liere below, but
them echo, Even so, come, Lard Jesus. \ tending thither. And this third petition
There is some loss to the flesh, if we will particularly concerns those of this lower re-
hear it in this desire in each kind; thejgionand condition; desiring this, that in
erecting of Christ's kingdom in purity in his obedience to their King, they may b<
church, thrusts out the outward pomp and
magnificence that naturally we like so well.
His kingdom of grace cannot be in the soul,
without the forsaking of all our accustomed
and pleasing ways of sin ; but they that
know the excellency of his kingdom, are well
content to forego all that suits not with it.
Thus, that his kingdom of glory may come,
the world must be burnt up, &c., and that
we particularly may come to it, we must
pass through death ; but it is worth all.
Thy will be done on earth, as it is in
heaven.
I will direct my prayer to thee, says
David, Psalm v. 3. The word is, I will set
it in order, or orderly address it, which is
not the curious contriving either of the words,
or method, (for there may be most of that,
where there is least of this right directing it
to God,) but the due ordering of the frame
and desires of the heart ; and certainly one
main point of that is taught us, as we have
said, in the order of this prayer, in this par-
ticular, that it not only prefers the honour of
God to all our own interest, setting the heart
first upon that, but keeps it to it, causes it
to dwell upon that in three several petitions,
varying the expression of that one desire, as
often as there be several requests following
of our own concernment ; teaching us that
that doth, in its own worth, and therefore
should likewise in our affection, itself alone
being but one, weigh down all the different
things besides that we can desire ; and thus
withal it is accommodate to our dulness, for
that our hearts would not readily with one
word be either duly stirred up, or stretched
forth in the heavenly desire ; so that both to
excite and dilate them the more, it is thus
iterated without vain tautology. This so
short and complete a form given us by so
wise a Master, is far from that, yea, it was
particularly intended in opposition to that
abuse. And not only doth the dignity of the
thing itself, and our indisposedness, require
this adding of one request to another con-
cerning it, but there is in the petitions them-
selves a very profitable difference, though
their scope is one ; they are as so many se-
veral arrows aimed at the same mark.
The first, in general, wishes all manner
of honour to the name of God ; and because
his name is especially honoured in the ad-
vancement, and in the completing of his
spiritual kingdom, the second is particular
in that, and because, until that kingdom be
completed and brought all together, it lies
in two several countries : there is one part
of it already above, which is the appointed
place for the perfection aud perpetuity of this
,y be as con-
form as it is possible to those above : Thy
will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.
Thy will. God is most perfectly one,
and his will one, yea, his will is himself, he
is purus actus ; yet in respect of its several
objects or circumstances that concern them,
it is diversely distinguished in schools,
sometimes needlessly, yea erroneously, but
some of them are sound and useful. But
here we shall not need them much. His
will is taken according to a very useful
figure for that which he wills, and we desire
here, that we ourselves and others may be
obedient to his will in every thing, even here
on earth, that he may be acknowledged and
served, not only in heaven, but here likewise.
For this (no question) means not the
equality of our obedience to theirs, but the
quality of it, that though it fall very far short
of so perfect a pattern, yet it may bear some
resemblance to it ; as a scholar's writing,
though it be nothing so good as his copy,
yet may have so much likewise as to shew
he follows it. It doth no wrong, but helps
a man much in any thing, the more perfect
example he hath before him ; although he be
not able to match it, yet the looking on it
makes him do the better : though an archer
shoot not so high as he aims, yet the
higher he takes his aim, the higher he
shoots. And that we may not think it strange
that we have here the citizens of heaven set
before us as a model for obedience, we have
our heavenly Father himself propounded by
our Saviour in the former chapter, as our ex-
ample for perfection : Be ye perfect, at your
heavenly Father is perfect.
The obedience in heaven is, 1. Universal,
without choosing and excepting ; and this
is, because the will and command of God
is the very reason of it. Psalm ciii. 20,
the angels are said to do his commandment*,
and to hearken to the voice of his word ;
they wait but for a word from him, and that
is enough. And in this should we desire
to be like them. Though we cannot fully
keep any one commandment, yet should we
exclude none of them from our endeavour ;
yea the rather, because we want that perfec-
tion in the degree, should we study this
other, which is a kind of perfection in the
design and purpose, to have retpest to all
the commandments, as David says ; to have
our eye upon them all, as the word there is.
So Psalm xvi. 8. / have set the Lord
always before me, [aqualiter posui,] in an
even, constant regard of his will. And the
want of this discovers, that much of our
obedience hath not the right stamp on it, no
way heavenly.
AN EXPOSITION OF
A man may think he approves and does
the will of God in some things, where it i
but by accident, because the letter of the
commandment is coincident with his own
will ; and so it is not the will of God, bu
his own, that moves him : therefore in doing
that which God commands, he does not
God's will, but his own ; and therefore wher
they meet not, but are contrary, there it ap-
pears, for he leaves God's will then, and
follows his own. A covetous father con-
demns the prodigality of his lavish son, anc
the son again cries out against the avarice o:
his niggardly father ; and thus both seem
to condemn sin : but the truth is, neither
do it ; it is but two extreme sins fighting
together, neither of them regarding the
rule that God hath set ; it is but their two
idols choaking each other, as the Heathens
set their gods together by the ears. But
they that therefore hate sin because of God's
countermand, and love his will for itself,
their obedience is more even, and regards
the whole will of God, and at all times ; for
there is that universality too in their obe-
dience, conform to that of heaven : So shall
I keep thy law (says David) continually,
for ever and ever.
See a man's carriage when .tempted or pro-
voked to some sin ; for when the occasion is
out of reach, and out of sight, what won-
der then he forbears ? But when it offers
itself, as by company, intemperance, or curs-
ing or swearing by passion, it appears, if a
man yield then, that sin was not out before,
but only lay close and quiet within till it was
stirred, as mud in the bottom of water,
nalura vexata prodit seipsam. So a man
may for his own gain, or his own glory, do
God's will. Jehu could say to Jonadab,
Come and see my zeal for the Lord.
It is cheerful. It is the very natural mo-
tion of glorified spirits to be acted and moved
by the will of God. They excel in strength,
says the Psalmist in that Psalm ciii. 20, and
do his commandments. They have no other
use for all their strength ; that is the proper
employment of it. Thus the godly man,
in so far as he is renewed, (for in so far he
suits with heaven,) delights himself in the
way of God's commandments, takes more
pleasure in keeping them, than profane men
do in all their pleasures of sin, by which
they break them. He is never well but when
he is in the way of obedience, and the ways
of sin are painful and grievous to him ; then
hath he most inward gladness and content-
ment, when he keepeth closest to his rule.
And the reason why he finds the law of God
thus pleasant, is, because it is not to him
as to the ungodly one without, driving him
violently, but it is within him, and therefore
moves him sweetly. / delight to do thy will,
O God, Psalm xl. 8 ; and he adds, Thy
law is within my heart, or in the midst of
my bowels ; Psalm Ixxxiv. 5. In whose
heart are thy ways ; not only their feet in
the ways, but the ways are in their hearts.
3. They do the will of God in heaven
unanimously and harmoniously ; there is
neither an evil eye of envy among them, nor
a lofty eye of pride, whatsoever degrees there
be among them in their stations and employ-
ments. Not to be curious in that, nor obtrude
ourselves into things we have not seen, yet
sure the lesser do not envy the greater, nor
the greater despise the less ; and the reason
is, because they are all so wholly taken up,
and so strongly united in this joint desire ol
doing the wiU of God. Thus ought his
servants here, each one in his place, and ac-
cording to that which God hath dispensed
to him, the greatest humbly, and the mean-
est contentedly, mind this, and nothing but
this, to do his will.
Answerably to the sense of this petition
do godly men in prayer, 1. vent their regret
and grief unto God, that there is so little
regard and obedience to his will amongst
men, that they see the greatest part taking
pleasure in unrighteousness, as the apostle
speaks. Thus David : Rivers of water run
down mine eyes, because men keep not thy
law. And as they bewail ungodliness with-
out them, so especially the strength of cor-
ruption within themselves : they begin there,
and express their grief in the presence of
God, that they are so clogged and hampered
with sin cleaving fast to them, and crossing
their purposes of obedience ; saying with th»
apostle, / find a law in my members war-
ring against the law of my mind. 2. They
declare their desire of redress, both in them,
selves and others ; that their great desire is,
that more obedience were given unfo God,
and particularly that they had more faculty
and strength to serve him, Psalm cxix. 4,
5. 3. They pray in this, for the effecting
of this their desire, that God would incline
men's hearts, and particularly their own, to
the obedience of his will, (whatsoever vain
will-worshippers say, they are indeed in that
sense, iP'Xofytitrxei, make a Deity of the
will,) not doubting that it is in his hand te
do 10, and that he hath more power of our
beans than we ourselves have ; otherwise it
were in vain to put these supplications into
iris hand, if he have no power to answer
them, to give them the real answer of per-
formance : Incline my heart unto thy law,
&c. Turn us, O Lord, &c. 4. They
do in this respect offer up their own hearts
to God, to be fashioned and moulded to his
will : and every godly man, if he had the
icarts of all the men in the world in his dis-
>osal, he would dispose them the same way,
odge them with his own, and make one
sacrifice of all ; his own he gives wholly, re-
s it up to his Lord, to be as a piece of
wax in God's hand, pliable to what form he
THE LORD'S PRAYER.
4G3
will, to do with it what he will, to turn out
and banish whatsoever displeases him, and
to make it to his own mind. In a word,
this is the desire of a Christian, that his
own will may be annihilated, and the will
of God placed in its room ; that he may have
no will but God's ; that he may be altogether
subject to God's commanding, and his work-
ing will, to do what he commands, and to
be heartily content with what he does ; for
both these are in it.*
Where he commands any thing, though
our own corrupt will grumble at it, and think
it hard, we must tread upon it to obey his
will, making that the rule of all we do. To
this end we must endeavour to be acquainted
with his will, and know what it is, other-
wise we cannot do it ; but once knowing it,
this is the end of knowing, to do, otherwise
(you know) that knowledge will make us
the worse for it, the more guilty.
It is a safe and comfortable thing to walk
every step by his direction ; the constant re-
gard of that, is that (we see) which con-
forms us to heaven. It was observable how
this will prevailed with Abraham ; he was
a loving father, it appears, and upon Sarah's
private motion, while there was no more,
he could not find in his heart to put Ishmael
out of doors, that was but the son of the
bond woman ; but upon God's command.,
ne was ready to put Isaac to death, that was
the son of .the promise. And he that taught
us to pray thus, gives us his own example
in this, and he did the will of his Father in-
deed, as it is done in heaven, and he came
to the earth for that purpose ; then said he,
Lo, I come to do thy will, O my God !
and in that great and most painful part of
his work, Not my will, but thine be done.
For our actions, then, let his word be our
guide ; and for the events of things, and all
that concerns us, let his good pleasure and
•'ise disposing be our will ; let us give up
the rudder of our life into his hand, to be
steered by him.
For our actions, is it not better to observe
his will, than to be subject to our own cor-
rupt wills, and to Satan's, led captive at
his will ? And as it is our best to do what
pleaseth him, so in all his dealing with us,
to be pleased with what he does ; not to
think it were better for us to be richer or
greater in the world than we are, or to mur-
mur and struggle under affliction. There
is nothing to be gained by this. Who hath
resisted his will at any time ? In all things
he doth what he will, whether it like us or
not ; our repining hinders not his working
at all, but it hinders our own comfort ; our
wrestling and fretting doth butpain ourselves.
If we be his, (as we profess,) then we may
be assured he loves us ; and if we believe
* It is love that makes this union of wills, Idem
fJle et idem nolle.
that, and withal believe that he is wiser than
we, then we must confess, that whatsoever
he doth with us is better than our own choos-
ing for ourselves could be.
This is the only way of constant quietnesii
and contentment of mind. Who is there
outwardly so properous, but meets with many
things that cross his will ? Now he that hath
renounced his own will, and is fixed upon a
continual complacency with the good pleasure
and providence of God, to will what he wills,
and nothing else ; every thing that befalls
him, he looks upon that side of it as God's
will, and so is satisfied. " Doth God think
this good, and shall I think it evil ?"
There is difference of estates, but all com-
ing from the same hand, which is Job's con-
sideration ; to embrace and kiss the worst
that can come, is our duty. It is the Lord.
(said David,) let him do with me what
seems good in his eyes, 2 Sam. xv. 26. Thus,
" Wilt thou have me poor or rich, healthful
or sick, esteemed or despised ? Wilt thou
that I live, or that I die ? I am thine, thy
will be done."
Give us this day our daily bread. Man
is made up of two different principles, a soul
derived from heaven, and a body at first
moulded out of earth, as Nazianzen expresses
it, lovs XKI %ov;, the breath of God, and the
dust of the earth ;* and according to his
composure, so is this prayer composed ; being
made for his use, it is wisely fitted to his
condition.
The greatest part of it is taken up with
such desires as are spiritual, and so most
suitable to his worthier part, his soul, such
as do immediately concern God, and such as
properly concern itself. Yet the body is not
wholly shut out, though the meaner part ;
yet being a part of man, and the workman-
ship of God, this one petition is bestowed
upon its conceinment.
Observe in it briefly, 1. The matter or
object of the request. 2. The qualification
of it. The matter under the name of bread,
not only bread for all food, as the Hebrew?
do ; but food, so named, for all other neces-
saries. By bread, as the chief support and
staff of man's life, is meant all needful tem-
poral blessings — food, and raiment, and
health, and peace, &c., a blessing on the
works of our calling, and the seasons of the
year, and all our lawful temporal affairs.
Though a godly man looks upon the ne-
cessities of this life as a piece of his present
captivity, and is often looking beyond it to
that purer lite he hopes for ; yet in the mean
while he doth, in obedience to God, use
these things, and in dependence upon God,
he seeks them at God's own hand.
In the request, together with its object,
as here we have it, there is, 1. Piety; 2.
Moderation — godliness and soberness.
« Ex isneo spiritu. et terreno corpcie
404
AN EXPOSITION OF
1 Piety asking our bread of God ; ask- lishes a man's daily bread, though it be of
ine'it in the true notion byway of gift, the richest kind. 3. Having bread and a
There is a natural cry or voice of our neces- disposition to use it, yet there is further an
titv and that not only ungodly men, but: influence of blessing from God needful to
unreasonable creatures have, the very beasts make it serve its proper end ; and without
and fowls as the Psalm hath it, The ravens\ this, that staff of life is but as a broken staff
ask their meat from God: but this spiritual in a man's hand that cannot support him.
cry of prayer is the peculiar voice of God's
own children.
Now to ask bread, or needful temporal
things, at the hand of God, is not only no way
incongruous to the piety and spiritual-mind-
edness of a Christian, nor no wrong to the
majesty of God ; but, on the contrary, it
were impiety in man, and an injury to God,
not to do so. We have here the warrant of
his own command, pray thus, and is it not
most reasonable ?
1. Seeing these things are necessary for
us to receive, and in the hand of God to
bestow, why ought we not to seek them there ?
Although in his wisdom he knows what
we need, and is in bounty most ready to fur-
nish us, yet this is the homage we owe to
God, to present ourselves and our necessities
before him, and seek our supplies by prayer.
In it there is a clear acknowledgement of
the Divine Providence and goodness, and of
our faith and reliance on it ; and faith is not
only signified in prayer in these things, but
is acted and excited, and by that means is
increased and strengthened. 2. Godliness
hath both kinds of promises, those of the life
to come, and those of this life ; and as god-
liness hath right to them both, so it teach-
eth to use them both, and particularly this
way, by turning the promises into prayers,
as a means appointed by God, both to fit us
for obtainment, and to obtain the perfor-
mance of them. 3. Though a man hath his
many years, yet hath he need still daily to
ask it of God, for it is still in God's hand
to give it him, or not to give, though
it is in a man's own hand in present pos-
session. 1. It is in God's disposal, to
continue it to him, or suddenly to pluck it
from him, out of his hand, or even out of
his mouth, ut bolu-s ereptus e faucibus.
How many have been thus on a sudden turn-
ed out of great estates into extreme poverty,
either by the hands of men, which are moved
by God, or by some immediate accident from
his own hand, and others by little and little,
vheir estates consuming and melting as snow-
balls ! In the former, the judgment of God
is as a lion, and in the latter as a moth, as
the prophet speaks. Again, 2. If God do
continue a man in his possessions, yet there
is further needful for his cheerful use of daily
bread, that calmness and content of mind and
healthfulness of body, that are God's pecu-
liar gifts, without which all is unsavoury.
Is the mind in bitterness or distemper, or
the body tied to its sick-bed ? This disre-
suppor
4. Besides that ordinary blessing, there is
yet something further that a godly man de-
sires, and desires it most of all — a secret
character and stamp of the peculiar favour of
God even upon his bread, his temporal en-
joyments. And this is a proper fruit of
prayer, as there is (as is already said) a pe-
culiar voice of God s own children in this
request, so God knows it particularly, and
distinguishes it from the common voice of
natural men, and other creatures that call for
supply ; and therefore he gives that peculiar
voice of their suit a peculiar answer, together
with the daily bread which he gives to others,
and a common blessing on it ,• they have
something that is not given to others. This
is that which particularly sweetens their
bread, that they receive it after a special
manner out of their Father's own hand, hav-
ing humbly asked it by a prayer as his
gift.
That is the other thing observable in th*
word of the request — give.
We are not by this forbidden, no, nor
dispensed with from labour and honest in-
dustry for it ; but after all our labour, we
are still to acknowledge all as a free gift,
both the bread we obtain by labour, and the
strength by which we labour. Just as we
find it of the other bread, the bread of life,
John vi. 27, " Labour for it, which the Son
of Man will give ;" laboured for, and yet
given. The fruit of our labours may be a
provision by him, not only of a day, but of just reward from men, but it is always free
from God, even these lowest benefits to the
best and holiest men : / am less (says Jacob)
than the least of thy mercies. We have
no motive for the least mercy but his own
goodness, as our Father ; so that it suits with
this as with all the other requests here, though
we deserve nothing, yet he is our Father :
it is proper for children to ask bread of their
father ; as our Saviour teaches us in the next
chapter, therefore he teaches us here to say,
Father, give us bread.
2. The moderation of the desire appears,
in comparison of the number of the other
petitions ; all the rest for things spiritual,
and but one for temporals ; those that regard
the glory of God as the chief, are three to
one with it, and those that concern our own
spiritual good, two for one.
Thus for the number, and the order and
place, which so many have taken quite con-
trary, it suits very well with this, as the
least of our requests, and so to be accounted
by us. It is strange that this right place
of it should have scared men from its right
THE LORD'S PRAYER.
403
meaning, and persuaded them to take it for
our spiritual food, or the bread of life, be-
cause it is the first of the three. But tak-
ing it as it is, for this life's necessaries, there
is no need of such reasons as some give for
its standing in this order, that are a little
light and unsolid. But to omit even these
that are more pertinent, which justify this
order, though this petition be less than the
two following, it seems truly the only fit
place for it, for that very reason, because it
is the least. It is known to be the ordinary
course of skilful orators to place the meanest
part of their speech in the middle ; and in
this let the ear of any understanding mind
be judge, whether it sounds not much better,
and this request pass in the middle, than if
the prayer should have ended with it, whereas
now it begins spiritually and closes so. And
this petition, which is de impedimenlis mil-
tics nostree, (for the things of this life prove
so too often,) is cast in the middle.
Now, how few are there that follow Christ's
estimate in this, that have the very strength
of their desires, and most of their thoughts,
on things that are spiritual, and do but in
passing lend a word to the things of this
life ! * This proportion few will admit ; it
makes not for their purpose. The apostle
gives this character of those that perish, that
they mind earthly things.
But to consider the words, each word de-
signing the matter of this request doth clearly
teach us moderation in it. Give us our
daily bread. Having food and raiment,
(says the apostle, 1 Tim. vi. 8,) let us be
content. How few be there of us, if any,
that want these, and yet how few that have
contentment. It is the enormity and bound-
lessness of our desires that causeth this.
There is no necessity of curious food and
raiment, but such food as nourishes, and
such raiment as covers.
Our daily bread, in the original, ivrieuttav.
Not at all to dispute the word, its genuine
sense is, such as is Jit for our daily susten-
talion, therefore rendered daily bread ; and
answers well to the word in that petition of
Agur, Prov. xxx. 8, convenient or propor-
tionable food, and so agrees with that we
said of bread ; proportionable, not to our
lust, but our necessity. This was the sin
of the Jews, and a most impertinent sin in
the wilderness, they asked meat for their
lust ; they were not content of bread for
: themselves, but must have meat for their
1 lust too ; must have that fed likewise. We
are not to be carvers of the proportion our-
selves, but leave that to God, who knows
best what is convenient for us ; therefore the
word is there, of my set or ordained portion,
ordained by thee.
Our bread, ii/tut. Not seeking any other
* Qiuunprimum a corpore ad animam rerieund a.
SEN,
but that which is our own, by our just in-
dustry and God's free gift. What is it but
the base, immoderate desire of having, tha»
stretches a man beyond this ? When a
man lays down that conclusion with himself,
that he must have so much, then it follows,
that any way tending to that he must use,
if he can, by right ; but if not, any way
rather than miss ; by violence and oppres-
sion, or by deceit, through all ways, fair and
foul : * when a man is once upon that jour-
ney, there is no stopping, until either God
recal him, or he plunge himself in the pit
of destruction. They that will be rich,
(says the apostle,) that are resolved upon
that, " they fall into temptation, and divers
snares, that drown men," &c. that is the
issue.
This day. It is true that this condemns
not a due providence in men for themselves
and their families, in a just and moderate
way ; but men deceive themselves in this ;
few stay there, but under that name harbour
gross avarice and earthliness. But in this
word we have the true temper of a Christian
mind, that whatsoever is his own lawful pro-
vidence, and whatsoever is the success of it,
what he lives and relies on, is the providence
of God, not his own ; he lives upon that
from one day to another, as a child in his
father's house ; and for provision for after-
wards, thinks it is as good in God's hand
as if it were in his own, and therefore
asks not so much stock, or so much
yearly rent, but btead for to-day. It
he have much land or great revenues, yet
trusts no more in that than if he had no-
thing ; and if he have to-day, and nothing
for to-morrow, (as the Israelites had manna,)
yet trusts no less in God than if he had
thousands ; he resolves thus, " Whether I
have much or little, I am at God's provide
ing, and live upon that from day to day ;
" the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not
want," Psalm xxiii. 1.
These two go together, as we have observ-
ed them here together — godliness and mo-
deration, godliness in this particular, of cast-
ting over our care of temporal things on God,
by prayer, Phil. iv. 5. Let your modera-
tion be known, &c. But how shall we have
it ? Make your requests known unto God,
and that in all things ; that will ease you,
and not trouble him. But when we lodge
such desires as are not fit indeed to be im-
parted to him, this is our shame, and proves
our vexation. It is a wonder what men
mean ; but it is a folly so rooted in men's
hearts that no discourse will pluck it up ;
they imagine that there is happiness in hav-
ing much, and will neither believe religion,
nor reason, nor experience, though all teach
the contrary. They cannot be persuaded to
* Si possis recte, si non, quocunque modo ran.
o*. 2 a
400
AN EXPOSITION OF
make this the rule of their desires, daily
bread, and for to-day, but are still project-
ing for long time to come, though they are
not sure of a day. Men are still beginning
to live, even when their years tell them they
should be thinking how to die ; are upon
new contrivances for the world, when they
must shortly leave it : and this is one point
of this our disease, that it grows still, and is
strongest in old age, when there is least
reason for it.*
What is this that riches can do ? Our
Saviour tells us, if we will believe him, that
man's life doth not consist in the abundance
of the things he possesseth ;-f- there is some-
thing necessary, we see, and truly that is not
much, and what is more than serves, many
times proves but more incumbrance ; one
staff will help a man in his way, but a bundle
of staves would burden and weary him.
Would men but stop a little and ask them-
selves, ' What is this I do ? What do I
aim at in all my turmoil ?' it might possi-
bly recal them, would they but hear Solo-
mon's question, and tell him what good the
rich have of possessing more than they use,
but only of beholding them with their eyes :
if there be any thing more, it is more care
and troubles. J He that hath a hundred
rooms hath but one body, he can lodge but
in one at once ; he that might have sea and
land ransacked for delicates for his table,
hath himself but one appetite to serve with
them all.
Then consider, that beyond the bounds of
this petition, if a man once pass, there be no
bounds after ; he knows not where to stay ;||
one thousand would have something more to
save it unspent, and when that grows a little,
it is best even to make another thousand, and
save that too, and fall a scraping for more.
And if this is always a frenzy, most of al]
in these times. " Behold," says God to
Baruch, " I will break down that which I
have built, and that which I have planted
will 1 pluck up, even this whole land ; and
seekest thou great things for thyself ?" Jer.
xlv. 4, 5. " But is it not wisdom to be pro-
vident, and see far before a man ? and to
look no further but to the present, is the cha-
racter of a fool." True it is indeed, and
therefore the truly wise man despises this
providence for a base, uncertain life, and is
content, if alive, but from one day to ano-
ther; but there is a higher design in his
head, a providence of a further reach, that
sees afar off indeed, to make himself an
estate for eternity — that takes up his thoughts
and pains ; the other is the grossest short-
sightedness, to look no further than a mo-
ment ; it is indeed pvu-xaQuiy as St. Peter
speaks. But that life the Christian's eye is
» Quo minus vise restat, eo plus viatici comparare.
. t Ad supervaeua sudatur.
$ Et curae circum laqueata tecta Yolantus
I Depingc ubi sistuin.
upon, is of another nature, where none of*
these poor things shall have place, No
marrying, nor giving in marriage, as our
Saviour says ; so no eating nor drinking, no
need of bread, nor of this prayer for it, but
we shall be as the angels of God.
And forgive us our debts, &c. Thy lov-
ing-kindness, says David, is better than
life. Therefore this request rises above the
former : in it we sought bread for the pre-
sent life ; in this we entreat his favour, not
com, nor wine, nor oil, but that that glads
the heart more than them all, the light of
his countenance, that the thick cloud of our
sins be dispelled by a free pardon, as he pro-
mises, Isa. xliv. 2.
In this petition we have, 1 . "the request ;
2. the clause added. That which is here
called debts, St. Luke hath sins ; and here,
in the observation our Saviour adds, they are
called (va.%a.fru[*.a.roi) offences. Now sin, as
it is called a debt, is taken for the guiltiness
of sin, which is no other but pasnas debere,
to owe the suffering of punishment, or an
obligement to the curse which the law hath
pronounced against sin ; and because this
results immediately from sin, therefore sin
is often put for the engagement to punish-
ment ; so the apostle's phrase, 1 Cor. xv.
56, may be taken. So, then, the debt of
sin being the tie to punishment, which fol-
lows upon it, the forgiving of sin can be no
other than the acquitting of a man from that
curse, setting him free from his debt, his
engagement to suffer ; and therefore to ima-
gine a forgiveness of sin with retaining of
the punishment, is direct nonsense and a
contradiction.
To pass the words of this request through
our mouths (as the rest) is an easy and com.
mon thing, but altogether fruitless ; but to
offer it as a spiritual supplication of the
heart unto God, is a thing done but by a
few, and to as many as do offer it so, it
never returns in vain, but is certainly grant-
ed. Now, to offer it so, as a lively, spiri-
tual suit unto God, there are necessarily
supposed in the soul that presents it, these
things :
1. A clear conviction and deep sense of
the guiltiness of sin ; both in general what
this guiltiness is, what is that debt that sin
engages us in, that misery to which it binds
us over, 1. as the deprivement of happiness,
the loss of God and his favour for ever. 2.
The endless endurance of his wrath, and
hottest indignation, and all the anguish that
that is able to fill the soul with to all eternity.
UnsufFerable, inconceivable torment ! de-J
scribed to us by such things as we can un-
derstand, but going infinitely beyond them,
A gnawing worm that dies not, and afire
that cannot be quenched ; this is the />or»
lion of (he sinner from God, and the heri.
tage appointed to him, as Zophar speaks.
THE LORD'S PRAVKK.
467
Then in particular there must be a seeing man him that is in health. ; their own want
cur own guiltiness ; a man must know him- j makes them think so. Now this forgiveness
self to be nothing else but a mass of sin, and, of sin is happiness indeed, yet a man must
so fuel for that fire ; must see himself a trans- ] first feel the want of it, before he judge so :
gressor of the whole law of God, and there- j but here is the difference ; when he hath ob-
fore abundantly liable to that sentence of tained it, he shall think so still ; whereas
he others being tried, are found to fall short,
death.
2. Upon this apprehension will follow a
very earnest desire to be free, and such a
word as that, O wretched man that I am !
tchit shall deliver me 9 And seeing no way
either to satisfy or escape without a free par-
don, the soul then looks upon that as its only
happiness; with David, Blessed is the man,
O, the blessedness of that man ! whose ini-
quity is foryiven, and whose sin is covered.
3. In this request there is a taking of it
as a thing attainable, for it is implied that
there is no impossibility in it ; and this
arises from the promises of God, and the
tenor of the covenant of grace, and the Me-
diator of that covenant revealed in the word,
apprehended only in their general tenor.
4. It imports a humble confession of guilti-
ness before the Lord, as follows there, Psalm
xxxii. 5, / acknowledge my sin, &c., and
hide not mine_ iniquity. The way to find
God hiding and covering it, he perceived,
as for himself not to hide it ; the way to
e acquitted at God's hand, is for the soul
ith humility and grief to accuse itself be-
ore him.
5. Where there is this sensible knowledge
and humble acknowledgment of sin anc
aisery, and enmcst desire of pardon, then
oth a man truly offer this suit unto Goc1
nth strong affection : Lord, this is my re-
uest, that my sin may be forgiven ; anc
ways it in faith, which is a more particular
aying hold on the promises, believing that
)e will forgive, and therefore waits for an
answer, to hear that voice of joy and glad-
ess, as David speaks ; to hear the word o
lis pardon from God spoke into his soul
And for this cause (besides the need of daili
>ardon for daily sins) the most godly men
lave need to renew this suit, that, togethe
with pardon, they may obtain the comfort
able persuasion and assurance of it; and
hough they have some assurance, yet there
>e further degrees of it possible and desir-
able, clearer evidences of reconcilement and
acceptance with God.
Forgiveness itself is indeed the main, und
is often granted, where the other, the assur-
ance of it, is withheld for a time ; but there
no question that we may, yea, that we
ought to desire it, and seek after it. He is
)lessed that is pardoned, though as jet he
enow it not ; yet doubtless itabates much of
)is happiness for the time, that he does not
now it.*
and do not make any man happy.
Seeing this is the request of so great mo-
ment, may we not wonder at ourselves, that
ire so cold and indifferent in it ? But the
rue reason of this is, because so few are truly
sensible of this heavy debt, of the weight of
sin unpardoned. A man that feels it not
nrays thus, not much troubling his thoughts
whether it be granted or no ; but he that is
ndeed pressed with the burden of sin, cries
n earnest, Lord, forgive. David knew
what he said, when he called him blessed
whose sin is forgiven ; the word is, that is
unloaded of his sin. He was a king, and a
great captain, but he says not, He is a bless-
ed man that wears a crown, or that is suc-
cessful in war, but he whose sin is taken oft'
his shoulders ; whatsoever he is otherwise, he
is a happy man ; it is in vain to offer a con-
science groaning under sin any thing else,
until it be eased of that. If you should see
a man lying grovelling under some weight
that is ready to press him to death, and should
bring sweet music to him, and cover a table
with delicates before him, but let him lie still
under his burden, could he (think you) take
any pleasure in those things ? Were it not
rather to mock him to use him so ?
And though he feel it not as troubled con-
Sciences do, yet we are truly miserable in all
enjoyments, until this forgiveness be obtain-
ed. To what purpose daily bread, yea,
what is the greatest abundance of all out-
ward things, but a glistering misery, if this
be wanting ? But he that is once forgiven,
and received into favour with God, what can
befal him amiss ? Though he hath no more
of the world but daily bread, and of the
coarsest sort, he hath a continual feast within,
as he that said, Brown bread and the pos-
pel is good fare. Now the gospel is the
doctrine of this forgiveness of sin, and is
therefore so sweet to an humbled sinner ;
yea, though a man have not only a small
portion of earthly comforts, but be under
divers afflictions and chastisements, yet this
makes him cheerful in all, as Luther said,
Feri Domine, &c., use me as thou wilt ;
seeing thou hast forgiven my sin, all is well.
Lastly, As there must be earnest desire
in the request, so withal firm belief; ask in
faith. If once thou art become a humble
suiter for mercy, and that is the great desire
of thy heart, that God would take away thy
sin, and be reconciled to thee ; then know,
As the philosopfier says, The poor man that he will not cast back thy petition in dis.
kinks him happy that is rich, and the sick pleasure ; now he is gracious, and whatso-
*Nonestbeatus, esseqiu sc ucnputct. ever thou hast been; consider what he U.
AN EXPOblTION OF
Doth he receive any for any thing in them- this, as our certain evidence, we may be as.
selves ? What is the cause he pardons any;
is it not for his own name's sake ? Isa. xliii.
25. And will not that reason serve for thee
as much as others ? Will it not avail for
many sins, as well as for few ? Hast thou
multiplied sin often, abused his mercy, but
now mournest before him for it ? Then he
will multiply to pardon, Isa. Iv. 7 ; Jer.
iii. 1. Thou hast rebelled much, but he is
thy Father, and hath the bowels of a father
to a repentant child : and this style we give
him in this prayer, as fitly urging all our
suits, Father, forgive us our sins ; there-
fore forgive, because thou art our Father.
And then consider, that he that puts this
petition amongst the rest in our mouths,
hath satisfied for believers, paid all their
scores, and answered justice to the full, and
in him we are forgiven : it is a free forgiveness
to us, though he hath paid for it ; and he
himself was freely given to us, to undertake and
satisfy for us. Yet let not any thus embolden
themselves to sin ; this were the grossest im-
pudence, to come to crave pardon of sin while
we delight in it, and to desire it to be for-
given while we have no mind to part with it
and forsake it ; for this privilege belongs only
to repenting and returning sinners.
As we forgive our debtors. This is add-
ed, both as a fit motive for us to use with
God, and a suitable duty thai he requires
of us : the former we may perceive in the
manner that St. Luke hath it, For we also,
says he, &c. " Thou, Lord, requirest of
us to forgive others, and thou workest it in
some of us to do so ; how much more then
may we hope that thou wilt forgive us ? If
there be any such goodness in us, it is from
thee, and therefore is infinitely more in thy-
self, as the ocean of goodness."
Again, this is likewise a very profitable
argument to move us to this duty, as we see
clearly by our Saviour's returning to speak
of it after the prayer ; it is not only bound
upon us by his precept, but by our prayer.
This (as}, just as before in the third pe-
tition, means not equality in the degree, but
conformity in the thing.
Now the request running thus, they that
do not forgive their brethren, turn it into a
most heavy curse to themselves, and in effect
] ray daily, Lord, never forgive me my sin :
and whether they say thus or no, he will do
thus, if we be such fools as not to accept of
such an agreement. He hath infinite debt
upon our heads, that we shall never be able
to pay ; now, though there is no proportion,
yet he is graciously pleased without further
reckoning to forgive us all, and discharge us
fully, if we accept (as it were) of this his
letter of exchange, and for his sake forgive
our brethren the few pence that at the most
they can be owing us, in lieu of the thousand
of talents that he acquits to us. And bvl shall expla n,
sured of our pardon, and rejoice in it, as our
Saviour after clearly affirms ; and therefore
the contrary (which he likewise tells us) may
well take our debates, and hatreds, and de-
sires of revenge, as a countersign, testifying
to us, that we are not forgiven at God's hands.
And think not to satisfy him with super-
ficial forgivenesses and reconcilements : would
we be content of such pardon from God, to
have only a present forbearance of revenge,
or that he should not quarrel with us, but nc
further friendship with him ; that he should
either use strangeness with us, and not speal
to us, or only for fashion's sake ? And yet sue!
are many of our reconcilements with our breth.
ren. God's way of forgiving is thorough ant
hearty, both to forgive and to forget, Jer
xxxi. 34, and if thine be not so, thou has
no portion in his.
What a base miserable humour is thi
same desire of revenge, this spirit of malic
that possesses men, and think themselve
brave in it, that they forgive no injuries, cai
put up no affronts, as they speak ! Solomoi
was of another mind, and he was a king, an<
a wise king, and knew well enough wha
honour meant ; It is the glory of a man t
pass by a transgression, said he. And w
see inferior magistrates and officers ma;
punish, but it is a part of the prerogative o
kings to pardon ; it is royal to forgive, yea i
is divine, it is to be like God, Matt. v. 48
Be you perfect, as your heavenly Fatlte
is perfect ; and the perfection is, do goo*
to them that persecute you, &c. as he caus
eth the sun to shine on the just and unjust.
There is more true pleasure in forgiving
than ever any man found in revenge. Fa
ther Desales said, " That whereas men thinl
it so hard a thing to forgive a wrong, h
found it so sweet, that if the contrary wer
commanded him, he would have much adi
to obey it." Were 'ihe. law of love writtei
in our hearts, it would be thus with us ; i
would teach us effectually to forgive others
if we knew and found in our experience th<
boundless love of God in forgiving us.
And lead us not into temptation, &c. A
the doctrine of divine mercy, mistaken an<
abused by carnal minds, emboldens them ti
sin ; so, being rightly apprehended and ap
plied, there is nothing more powerful t<
possess the heart with indignation agains
sin, and love of holiness : so that this reques
agrees most fitly with the former ; where th*
is presented aright, the heart will be no lesi
sincere and earnest in this other. The guild.
ness of sin, and the prevailing power of it
are the two evils that the godly feel mo«
than all other pressures in the world ; deli-
verance from both is jointly promised in tin
new covenant, Jer. xxxi. 31 — 33, and hen
jointly intreated in these two petitions. W(
THE LORD'S PHAYEH.
469
1. What this temptation and evil is.
2. What is meant by not lead into it, and
to deliver.
Temptation. In the original, a-£/£a<r,«<!j,
a trial, that which gives proof of a man's
strength and of his disposition — draws forth
what is within him. And thus in most things
we meet withal in the world, there is some
tempting faculty to try us what we are, on
the using of them ; but especially such things
as are more eminent in their nature, that have
much power with us. As eminent place .and
public charge try both the ability and inte-
grity of men, afflictions try the feith and
stability of men's minds. Injuries try
whether they are truly meek and patient or
no ; they stir the water that was possibly
clear at top, and so try whether it be not
muddy at the bottom.*
But by temptations here are meant, occa-
sions and provocations to sin. So likewise
the word (evil) in the other clause, is not
to be taken for afflictions and crosses, but
for the evil of sin, or for that evil one, as
he is called, 1 John ii. 13, and that parti-
cularly in relation to the evil of sin, wherein
he hath so frequent and so great a hand.
There be outward things that are not in
themselves evil, and yet prove temptations
'to us, because they meet with a depraved,
corrupt heart in us ; as riches, and honour,
and beauty, &c., and to intemperance, dainty
meats, or the wine when it is red in the
cup, as Solomon speaks ; and upon these,
men sometimes turn over the blame of their
jdisorders, but most foolishly.
Other temptations and tempters there be
iwithout us, that are themselves evil, and by
'tempting, partake of our sin ; the profane
, exam pie and customs of the world, ungodly
men by their practices, and counsels, and
(enticements, drawing others to sin, putting
others into the same mire wherein they are
wallowing.
But the most effectual temper of all, is
that which the apostle St. James gives up
las the chief, and without which indeed none
(other could prevail, Every man is tempted
\of his own concupiscence ; whosoever it is
that begets it, that is, the womb wherein all
lain is conceived, and that brings it forth,
las he there adds ; yea, this were able of
(itself to be fruitful in sin, though there
Iwere not a devil to tempt it to it, and doth
Jno doubt often tempt us without his help.
Yet, because he is so continually busied
in this work, is so constant a stickler in the
^greatest part of sins in the world, therefore
it is not unlikely that this is particularly
neant of him.
Howsoever, he is out of doubt the great-
*t of all outward tempters, (and therefore it
s pertinent to consider his share in them,)
he most skilful, the most active and dili-
* Natura vexata prcxlit seii'sam.
gent, and he that manages all other kind of
temptations against us, both such as are
without us in the world, and such as are
within us ; he works upon our own corrup-
tion, stirring and blowing it up by his sug-
gestions, and sometimes throwing in balls
of his own infernal fire, that are grievous
and abominable to the soul into which he
casts them. It is his name and profession,
o fn^av, that great pirate, that robs
upon all seas, that is every where catching
the souls of men. And he is well seen in
his trade, a knowing spirit, that manifested
his skill shrewdly in his first essay against
man ; that serpent's first poison killed the
whole race of mankind; and now he is perfect-
ed by long experience and practice, hath his
methods, as arts after a due time are drawn
into method. He hath his topics, his several
sorts of temptations for several tempers, and
hath great insight into the subject he is to
work upon, and so fits the one to the other.
The profane, that will be easily drawn to
the grossest sins, he is not at the pains to
find out other ways for them, but hurries
them along in that high way to destruction,
using his advantage either of their gross ig-
norance or hardness of Tieart, &c- Others
that are resolved to live outwardly blame-
less, he endeavours to take and hold fast to
himself by pride, and self-love, and malice,
and covetousness ; by formality in religion,
unbelief — which are things, though smaller
wrought than some others, yet that are as
strong, and hold men as fast to be led captive
at his will.
And the godly, because they are escaped
and set free from his tyranny, and he is des-
perate of reducing them, yet because he can
do no more, he is sure to be a perpetual vex.
ation and trouble to them, so far as he is let
loose ; he is most unwearied in his assaults,
gives them no respite, neither when he gains
upon them, nor when he is foiled and re-
pulsed. Let us next consider,
2. What the request is, — not to be led
into temptation, — and, to be delivered.
Lead us not. Not that God doth solicit
a man to sin, for that is most contrary to his
most pure nature, as St. James tells us plain-
ly, He is neither <to tempted, nor tempts
he any : but this leading into temptation
is briefly, 1. To permit a man to be tempt-
ed. 2. To withdraw his grace, and so de-
liver up a man into the hand or power of
the temptation. Now this is what we pray,
that the Lord be pleased either to bear off
assaults from us, and suffer us not to be
tempted ; or if he let temptation loose upon
us, yet to give us the better, to order it so
that it overcomes us- not. That which is
here meant by leading, or carrying us into
temptation, is the prevailing of it, or leading
us unto a foil ; and this we pray that ha
would not do, that if he do bring ns into th
470
AN EXPOSITION OF
conflict of temptation, he would not leave us
there, but bring us fair off again : and thus
the whole petition runs, lead us not, but de-
liver tw. And in this it is, that he woulc
furnish us with his own grace, the holy habits
of grace to be within us, as a constant gar
rison. And then, that either he counter,
mand our enemy from assaulting, or tha
they be such as overmatch not the strength
lie hath given us, but may be below it ; o
that he send us the auxiliary strength o
supervenient assisting grace to that we have
that, howsoever, the forces that come agains
us may be turned backward, and we ma)
have the comfort and he the glory of ou
victories.
So then in this we are taught, 1. To know
the danger wherein we are ; that we live in
the midst of enemies, and sach as are strong
and subtle, that we have the prince of dark
ness plotting against us, and the treacher
ous corruption of our own hearts ready to
keep correspondence with him, and be
tray us to him. That he hath gins am
snares laid for us in all our ways, La
queos ubique, lagueos in cibo et potu, fyc
Aug. Med. ; in our solitude and in ou
converse, in our eating and drinking, yea
snares in our spiritual exercise, our hear
ing, preaching, prayer, &c., and therefore as
he here teaches us to pray against them, w<
must join that, to watch against them. 2
To be sensible of our own weakness and in.
sufficiency, either for avoiding or overcoming
these dangers. 3. To know the all-suffi-
cient strength of God, his sovereign power
over all adverse powers, that they are all un-
-der his command, so that -he can keep them
off us, or subdue them under us, as he pleas-
eth, and so to have our recourse to this, and
rest in it. The first of these considerations,
if it take with us, will stir us up to w<itch-
fulness, and the other two will persuade to
f rayer ; and these are the two great perserva-
tives against temptation that our Saviour
prescribes, Watch and pray, lest you enter
into temptation. Watch — how can we sleep
secure, and so many enemies that sleep not ?
If we pray and watch not, we tempt God,
and we lead ourselves into temptation. It
is our duty (mock the word who will) to
walk exactly or precisely, axgiGus, to look to
every step, to beware of the least sins : for
they, I. By multitude make up a great
weight. 2. They prove usually introduc-
tions to greater sins ; admit but some inordi-
nate desire into your heart that you account
a small matter, and it is a hundred to one
but it shall prove a little thief got in, to open
the door to a number of greater ; as the
Rabbins speak, a less evil brings a man into
fhe hands of a greater. *
2. Avoid not only sins, but the incentives
and occasions to sin ; as St. Chrysostom ob-
• Levius rnalurn Inducit manus graviuris. DRUS. ,
serves well that of our Saviour, When they
shall say, here is Christ and there it
Christ, he says not, Believe them not, but
Go not forth to see ; and Solomon's instruc-
tion for avoiding the allurements of the
strange woman, says not only " Go not in,
but, Come not near the door of her house."
The way of sin is down hill ; * a man can-
not stop where he would, and he that will be
tampering with dangerous occasions, in con-
fidence of his resolution, shall find himself
often carried beyond his purpose. If you
pray, then watch too : but as that word com-
mands our diligence, so this imports our
weakness in ourselves, and our strength to
be in another ; that as we watch we mnst
pray, and without this we shall watch in
vain, and be a prey to our enemy. Truly
had we no power beyond our own, we might
give over, and be hopeless of coming through
to salvation — so many enemies and hazards
in the way. Alas ! might a Christian say,
looking upon the multitude of temptations
without, and corruptions within himself, and
the weakness of the grace he hath, " How
can this be ? Shall I ever attain my journey's
end ?" But again, when he looks upward,
and lifts his eyes above his difficulties, be-
holds the strength of God engaged for him,
directs his prayers to him for help, and is as-
sured to find it ; this upholds him and an-
swers all. There is a roaring lion that seeks
to devour, but there is a strong rescuing lion,
the lion of the tribe ofJudah, that will de-
liver. The God of peace, says the apostle,
will bruise Satan under your feet shortly.
He says not, we shall bruise him under our
feet, but God shall do it ; yet he says not,
he shall bruise him under his own feet, but
under yours ; the victory shall be ours, though
wrought by him ; and he shall do it shortly ;
wait a while and it shall be done ; and the
God of peace, because he is the God of peace,
he shall subdue that grand disturber of your
peace, and shall give you a perfect victory,
and after it endless peace ; he shall free you
of his trouble and molestation. Grace is a
stranger here, and therefore hardly used, and
iiated by many foes ; but there is a promise
of a new heaven and a new earth, where
dwells righteousness ; there it shall be at
lome, and quiet, no spoiling nor robbery in
all that holy mountain.
For thine is the kingdom, and the power,
and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen.
This pattern (we know) is the line under
which all our prayers ought to move, all our
•equests to be conform to it ; and are certain,
y out of their way, when they decline and
wander from it. And if we observed it, we
may clearly perceive it is a circular line ; as
ndeed the exercise of prayer is a heavenly
rotion, circular as that of the heavens ; be-
.'ns and ends in the same point, the glory
* Motu-i in procliu.
THE LORD'S PRAYER.
jf that God to whom we pray, and who is
the God that heareth prayer. In that point
this prayer begins, and here ends in it, so
that our requests that concern ourselves are
cast in the middle, that all our desires may
move within this circle ; though the things
we pray for concern ourselves, yet are not to
terminate in ourselves, but in him who is
Alpha and Omega, the beginning and end
of all things ; to desire not only the bless-
ings of this life, but the blessedness of the
life to come, more for his glory than for our
own good.
This is genuine and pure love of God, in
the pardon of our sins and salvation — to re-
joice more in the glory of divine mercy than
in our own personal happiness ; thus it shall
be with us, when we shall be put in posses-
sion of it, and we ought to aspire to that
measure of the same mind that, can be at-
tained here, while we are in the desire and
hopes of it.
For thine is the kingdom. Though this
clause is left out in divers translations, and
wanting in some Greek copies, yet it is so
agreeable to the nature of prayer, and the
perfection of this prayer, that we ought not
to let it pass unconsidered.
There is in it an enforcement of our
prayer, but especially it is a return of praise ;
" Good reason we desire earnestly the sanc-
tifying of thy name, and coming of thy king-
dom, and obedience to thy will, seeing these
are so peculiarly due to thee, namely, king-
dom, and power, and glory ; and seeing
(thou art so great and rich a King, may we
Inot crave with confidence, at thy hands, all
(needful good things to be bestowed on us,
land that all evil jnay be averted from us,
'that we may find thee gracious to us, both
in giving and forgiving ; and as in forgiv-
ing us the guiltiness of sin, so in freeing us
from the power of sin, and preserving us
"rom the power of our spiritual enemies thai
would draw us into sin ? We are under thy
royal protection, we are thy subjects, yea thy
children ; thou art our King and Father, so
that thy honour is engaged for our defence
Whatsoever sum our debts amount to, they
are not too great for such a King to forgive
they cannot rise above thy royal goodness
and whatsoever be our enemies, all theii
force is not above thy sceptre ; though the}
be strong, too strong for us, yet thou ar
much more too strong for them, for power i
thine ; and this we know, that all the gooc
thou dost us will bring back glory to th;
name, and it is that we most desire, ani
that which is thy due ; the glory is thine."
Thus we see all our places of argument
for our requests are in God, none of them in
oarselves ; as we find this in the prayers o
the prophets, for thine own glory, and jfo
thine own name's sake; nothing in our
*elves to move God by, but abundance o*
misery, and that moves not but by reason of
is bounty ; so, still, the cause of his hear-
ng, and the argument of our entreating, is
n himself alone. Were it not thus, how
ould we hope to prevail with him ? Yea,
low durst we offer to come unto him ? It is
well for us there is enough in himself both to
ncourage us to come, and to furnish us with
motives to persuade him by, that we come
not in vain. Moses had not a word to say
'or the people in themselves ; such was their
carriage, his mouth was stopped that way ;
et he doth not let go this, " What wilt
hou do with thy mighty name ? It is true
hey have trespassed, yet if thou destroy
hem, thy name will suffer. Lord, consider
and regard that, and we know the success of
t." Thus a Christian for himself: " Lord,
am most unworthy of all those things
[ request of thee, but whatsoever I am, thou
art a liberal and mighty King, and it is thy
;lory to do good freely, therefore it is that I
come unto thee ; my necessities drive me to
hee, and thy goodness draws me, and the
more poor and wretched I am, the greater
will be thy glory in helping me."
But it is withal an extolling and praising
he greatness of God, and so we are to con-
sider it.
Thine is the kingdom. " Other kings
and kingdoms there be, but they are as no.
thing, they deserve not the naming in com.
>arison of thine ; they are but kings of little
uole-hills, to the bounds of thy dominion ;
;he greatest kingdoms of the world are but
small parcels of this globe of earth ; and it.
self altogether, to the vast circumference of
the heavens, is as nothing, loses all sensible
greatness. This point that men are so busy
dividing among them with fire and sword,
what if one man had the sovereignty of it all ?
He and kingdom both were nothing to thine ;
for sea and land, earth and heaven, and all
the creatures in them all, the whole, all is
thine ; thou art Lord of heaven and earth,
and therefore the kingdom is thine. As all
other kingdoms are less than thine, so they
hold of thine ; thine is supreme ; all the
crowns and sceptres of the earth hang at thy
footstool." All kings owe their hon.age to
this great King, and he disposeth of their
crowns absolutely and uncontrolled as he will ;
he enthrones and dethrones at his pleasure,
throws down one and sets up another ; as we
have a great monarch confessing it at length,
upon his own experience, being brought
down from his throne on purpose to learn thii
lesson, and was seven years in learning of it,
Dan. iv. 34.
The power. The creatures have among
them several degrees and several kinds of
power, but none of them, nor all of them
together, have all power ; this is God's. He
is all-powerful in himself, primitively power-
ful, and all the power of the creatures is
472
AN EXPOSITION OF
derived from him: he is the fountain of
power ; so that whatsoever power he hath given
unto men, or any other creature, he hath
not given away from himself; it is still in
himself more than in them, and at his pleasure
he can call it hack, and withdraw the influ-
ence of it, and then they remain weak and
powerless. And when he gives them power,
he useth and disposeth of both them and
their power as seems him good; therefore
his style is, the Lord of hosts. He can
command more armies than all the kings and
princes of the earth, from the most excellent
to the meanest of the creatures ; all are his
trained bands, from the host of glorious
spirits, to the very grasshoppers and flies ;
and you know, that as an angel was em-
ployed against the Egyptians, so likewise
these contemptible creatures were upon ser-
vice there too, and being armed with com-
mission, and with power from God, did per-
form the service upon which they were sent
so effectually, that the wisest of Heathens
were forced to confess, this it the finger of
God.
This is the Lord to whom we address our
prayers, that cannot fail in any thing for
want of power, for he doth what he will in
heaven and in earth.
Glory. In these two consists mainly the
eminency of kings, in their power and their
majesty ; but they exceed not the meanest of
their subjects so far as this King surpasseth
the greatest of them in both. Psalm xciii.
1. Clothed with both majesty and strength.
They are often resisted, and cut short of
their designs for want of sufficient power,
and are the best of them often driven to
straits ; sometimes men, sometimes money
or munition, or some other necessary help is
wanting, and so their enterprises fall behind ;
but this King can challenge and defy all op-
positions ; / work, (says he,) and who shall
let it 9
And as their power, so their majesty and
glory is infinitely short of his ; he is the
King of glory, as the Psalmist styles him ;
alone truly glorious, both in the excellency of
his own nature, and the extrinsical glory that
arises to him out of his works. Of the
former we can but know little here, for
that light wherein he dwells is to us inacces-
sible ; but this we know, that he is infinitely
above all the praises even of those that do be-
hold him. Likewise, how unspeakable is that
glory that shines in his works ; in the
framing of the whole world, and in the
upholding and ruling of it from the begin-
ning ! in which appear the two former that
are here ascribed to him, his kingdom and
his power, and so this third, his glory,
springs out of both. Then, if we consi-
der the glorious attendance that
tinually about his throne, as the
Scrip-
tures describe it to us, it drowns all the
pomp of earthly thrones and courts in their
highest degree. See Rev. iv.
For ever. This kingdom, and power and
glory of God, besides their transcendent
greatness, have this advantage beyond all
other kingdoms, and power, and glory, that
his are for ever and ever ; all other are pe-
rishing, nothing but pageants and shows that
appear for a while, and pass along and vanish.
It was a wise word of « king, (especially at
such a time,) when he was riding in a stately
triumph, and asked by one of his courtiers,
thinking to please him, What is wanting
here ? he answered, Continuance. Where
are all the magnific kings that have reigned
in former ages ? Where is their power and
their pomp ? Is it not past like a dream ?
And not only are the kings gone, but the
kingdoms themselves, the greatest in the
world fallen to nothing ; they had their time
of rising, and again of declining, and are
buried in the dust : that golden-headed
image had brittle feet, and that was the ruin
and break of it all. But this kingdom of
the Most High is an everlasting kingdom,
and his glory and power abide for ever. Not
only things on earth decay, but the very
heavens wax old as a garment, (says the
Psalmist,) but thou, O Lord, art still the
same, and thy years have no end.
1. It is a thing of very great importance
for us to have our hearts established in the
belief of these things, and to be frequent in
remembering and considering them ; to know
that the kingdom is the Lord's, that he so-
vereignly rules the world, and all things in
it, and particularly the great affairs of his
church ; that he is the mighty God, and
therefore, that there is no power, or wis«
dom, or counsel of men, able to prevail
against him ; and that in those things
wherein glory seems to suffer for the pre-
sent, it shall gain and be advanced in the
closure.
2. Let us always, and in all tilings, re-
turn this to him as his peculiar due : " Thine
is the glory, it belongs to thee, and to none
other," Deo qua Dei sunt.
3. Let us think most reverently of God.
Oh, that we could attain to esteeming
thoughts of him, to think more of his great-
ness and excellency beyond all the world !
It is our great folly to admire any thing but
God ; this is because we are ignorant of him ;
certainly he knows not God, that thinks any
thing great beside him.
Amen. In this word concentre all the
requests, and are put up together ; so be it.
And there is in it withal (as all obseive) a
profession of confidence that it shall be so.
It is from one root with these words that
signify believing and truth, the truth of God's
promises persuades belief, and it persuades to
h ope for a gracious answer of prayer. And
this is the excellent advantage of the prayer of
THE LORD'S PRAYER.
413
faith, that it quiets and establishes the heart
in God. Whatsoever be its estate and desire,
when once he hath put his petition into God's
hand, he rests content in holy security and as-
lurance concerning the answer, refers it to the
wisdom and love of God, how and when he
will answer; not doubting that whatsoever it
be, and whensoever, it shall both be gracious
and seasonable. But the reason why so few
of us find that sweetness and comfort that is
in prayer, is, because the true nature and use
of it is so little known.
AN EXPOSITION
OF THE
TEN COMMANDMENTS.
EXODUS XX. 1.
And God spake all these words, saying.
J.T is the character of the blessed man, and
the way of blessedness, to delight in the law
of God, Psalm i. 2. And because the eye
is often upon that whereon the affection and
delight of the heart is set, the sign of that
delight in the law, is to have the eye of the
mind much upon it, to meditate on it day
and night. And that we may know this is
not, as the study of many things are, empty
speculation, and fruitless, barren delight, we
are further taught the soul (as fixed in this
delight and meditation) is a tree well plant-
ed, and answerably fruitful. The mind that
is set upon this law is fitly set for bear-
ing fruit, Planted by the rivers of waters s
and is really fruitful, Bringeth forth its fruit
in his season.
If this holds true of the law in the largest
sense taken for the whole will of God reveal,
ed in his word, it is no doubt particularly
verified in that which more particularly bears
the name of the law ; this same summary of
the rule of man's life, delivered by the Lord
himself, after so singular a manner, both by
word and writ.
So, then, the explication of it being need-
ful for the ignorant, it will be likewise pro-
fitably delightful for those that be most know-
ing and best acquainted with it ; it is a ricli
mine, that we can never dig to the bottom
of. He is called the blessed man, that is
still digging and seeking further into the
riches of it, Meditating on it day and night ;
his working going forward in the night, when
others cease from working.
We have in the creed, the object of faith ;
in the law, the exercise and trial of love :
For love is the fulfilling of the law ; and,
If ye love me, keep my commandments,
saith our Saviour. And prayer is the breath,
ing of hope, or, as they call it, Interpreta*
tio spei. Thus in these three summaries
are the matter of these three prime theologi-
cal virtues, faith, hope, and charity.
The law rightly understood, addresses us
to the articles of our faith : for seeing the
disproportion of our best obedience to the ex-
actness of the law, this drives us to seek sal-
vation in the gospel by believing ; and our
natural inability to believe, drives us to pray-
er, that we may obtain faith and perseverance
in it, at his hands who is both the first au-
thor and finisher of our faith.
The preparation enjoined the people,
teacheth the holiness of this law ; the fire,
and thunder, and lightning, and upon these,
the fear of the people, testify the greatness
and majesty of the Lawgiver, and withal his
power to punish the trangressors of it, and
justice that will punish ; that, as he shewed
his presence by fire, seen in delivering this
law, so he is (as the apostle teacheth us,
alluding to this) a consuming fire to them
that neglect and disobey. The limits set
about the mount, that they might not ap-
proach it, even after all their endeavour of
sanctifying and preparing, read humility to
us, teaching us our great distance from the
holiness of our God, even when we are most
holy and exactest in our preparations. Next,
Sobriety, <p^av:/y us ra ffnQo'jtuv, not to pry
into hidden things,* to hear what is revealed
to us, and commanded us, and to exercise
ourselves in that. Hidden things belong
unto God, &c. And, lastly, That the law
of itself is the ministration of death, and hath
nothing but terror in it, till the Messiah
the Mediator appear, and the soul by his
perfect obedience be accounted obedient to
the law : but we must not insist on this now.
• Scrutator Majestatis opprimetur a gloria.
THE TEN COMMANDMENT'S.
God spake. The preface is twofold. 1.
That of Moses. 2. Of God himself.
These words. Ten woids, Exod. xxxiv.
28, and Deut. v. 22. He added no more.
Hence we may learn, 1. The perfection of this
law, that no more was needful to be added.
2. The excellency of it, being so short and
yet so perfect. For as it is the excellency of
all speech, as of coin, (as Plutarch has it,)
to contain much in little, most value in small-
est quantity ; so especially of laws, that they
be brief and full.
That we may the better conceive of the
perfection of this law, we must not forget
those rules that divines give for the under-
standing of it in its due latitude. 1. That
the prohibitions of sin contain the commands
of the contrary good, otherwise the number
of precepts would have been too great. And,
on the contrary, 2. Under the name of any
one sin, all homogeneous, or sins of that
kind, are forbidden. 3. All the induce-
ments and occasions of sin, things that come
near a breach, to be avoided ; that which the
Rabbins call the hedge of the law, not to be
broken. They that do always that they law-
fully may, sometimes do more. 4. It is
spiritual, hath that prerogative above all hu-
man laws, reaches the heart, and all the
motions of it as well as words and actions.
This supreme Lawgiver alone can see the
behaviour of the heart, and alone is able to
punish all that offend, so much as in thought.
It were a vain thing for men to give laws to
any, more than that they can require account
of and correct, which is only the superfice and
outside of human actions. But he that made
the heart, doth not only give his law to it, but
to it principally, and examines all actions
there in their source and beginning, and
therefore oftentimes that which men applaud
and reward, and do well in so doing, he just-
ly hates and punishes.
God spake. All that was spoken by his
messengers, the Prophets, with warrant from
him, was his word, they but the trumpets
which ths breath of his mouth, his Spirit,
made to sound as it pleased him ; but this
his moral law he privileged with his own im-
mediate delivery. Men may give some few
rules for society and civil life, by the dark
light that remains in natural consciences ; but
such a rule as may direct a man to answer
his natural end, and lead him to God, must
come from himself. All the purest and
wisest laws that men have compiled cannot
reach that ; they can go no higher in their
course, than they are in their spring : That
which is from the earth is earthly, saith our
Saviour.
He added to this speaking, the writing of
them likewise himself on tables of stone, that
they might abide, and be conveyed to after
ages. At first they were written in the heart of
man by God's own hand; but as the first tables
4/5
of stone fell and were broken, so was it with
man's heart; by his fall his heart was broken,
and scattered amongst the earthly perishing
:hings, that was before whole and entire to
tiis maker ; and so the characters of that law
written in it, were so shivered and scattered
that they could not be perfectly and distinctly
read in it ; therefore it pleased God to renew
that law after this manner, by a most solemn
delivery with audible voice, and then by
writing it ou tables of stone. And this is not
all, but this same law he doth write anew in
the hearts of his children.
Why it pleased him to defer this solemn
promulgation of the law to this time, and at
this time to give it to a select people only,
these are arcana imperil indeed, which we
are not to search into, but to magnify his
goodness to us, that he hath shewed us the
path of life, revealing to us both the precepts
of this law, and the grace and promises of the
gospel.
It was the all-wise God that spake all these
words, therefore he knew well his own aim
and purpose in them, and doth certainly at-
tain it.
It was not indeed that this law might be
the adequate and complete means of man's
happiness, that by perfect obedience to it he
might be saved ; for the law is weak for this,
not in itself, but through the flesh, Rom.
viii. 3 ; altogether impossible for it alone to
save us, because impossible for us to fulfil it.
But it doth profit us much if we look
aright upon it. 1. It discovers us to ourselves,
and so humbles us, frees us from the pride
that is so natural to us in the midst of our
great poverty and wretchedness ; for when we
see how pure the law is, and we, compared
with it, to be all filthiness and defilement,
Our best righteousness, (as Isaiah says) a*
filthy rags ; this causeth us to abhor our-
selves : whereas naturally we are abused with
self-love and self-flattery arising from it. The
point of the law (as they in the Acts were
said to be pricked in their hearts) pricks tha
heart that is swelled and puffed up with pride,
and makes it fall low in sense of vileness.
2. As this discovery humbles us in our-
selves, it drives us out of ourselves. This
glass shewing us our pollution, sends us to
the fountain opened ; when we perceive that
by the sentence of the law, there is nothing
for us but death, this makes us hearken dili-
gently to the news of redemption and pai-
don proclaimed in the gospel, and hastens
us to the Mediator of the new covenant. Ai
the spouse was then singularly rejoiced to
find her beloved, when she had been beaten
and hardly used by reproaching ; the soul it
then gladdest to meet with Christ, when it
is hardest buffetted with the terrors and threat,
ening of the law.
His promise of ease and refreshment sounds
sweet after the thunderings and lightnings of
470
AN EXPOSITION OF
Mount Sinai. A man will never go to Christ
•o long as he is not convinced of misery with-
out him, of impotency in himself, and in all
others to help him.
3. It restrains the wickedness even of un-
godly men ; the brightness of it makes them
sometimes ashamed of those works of dark-
ness, which otherwise they would commit
without check ; and the terrors of it affright
them sometimes from that which they would
otherwise commit without shame.
4. But chiefly it serves for a rule and
square of life to the godly, A light to their
feet, (as David says,) and a lantern to
their paths. Either they have no rule of
life, which is impious and unreasonable to
think, or this is it. Christ came not to dis-
solve it, but to accomplish and establish
it ; and he did carefully free it from the in-
jurious glosses of the Pharisees, and taught
the right sense and force of it, Matt. v.
He obeyed it both in doing and suffering,
both performing what it requires, and in our
stead undergoing what it pronounces against
those that perform it not. It is a promise
primely intended for the days of the gospel,
as the apostle applies, / will write my law
in their hearts. It is a weak conceit arising
upon the mistake of the Scriptures, to make
Christ and Moses as opposites ; no, Moses
was the servant in the house, and Christ the
Son ; and being a faithful servant, he is not
contrary to the Son, but subordinate to him.
The very abolishment of the ceremonial law
was not as of a thing contrary, but as a thing
accomplished in Christ, and so was an ho.
nourable abolishment. And the removing
of the curse and rigour of the moral law
from us, was without wrong to it, being sa-
tisfied in a better for us, our surety Jesus
Christ.
They are happy that look so on the law of
God, as to be made sensible of misery by it,
and by that made earnest in their desires of
Christ, and that judge themselves ; the more
evidence they have of freedom from the curse
of the law, to be not the less, but so much
the more obliged to obey the law ; that are
still making progress and going on in that way
of obedience, though it be with continual halt-
ing, and often stumbling, and sometimes
falling ; yet they shall certainly attain their
journey's end, that perfection whereof they
are so desirous.
This were the way to lowliness, not to
compare ourselves with others, in which too
many are often partial judges, but with this
holy law. We use not to try the evenness
of things with our crooked stick, but by the
straightest rule that we can find. Thus St.
Paul, The law is spiritual, I am carnal.
He looks not how much he was more spiri-
tual than other men, but how much less spiri-
tual than the law.
/ am the Lord.
This is the tmest and
most constant obedience, whicn nows jointly
from reverence and love. These two are the
very wheels upon which obedience moves.
And these first words of the law are most fit
and powerful to work these two ; Jehovah,
sovereign Lord, to be feared and reverenced ;
Thy God ; and then, that hath wrought
such a deliverance for thee ; therefore in both
these respects most worthy of the highest
love.
This preface cannot stand for a command,
ment, as some would have it : for expressly
it commands nothing, though by inference
it enforces all the commandments, and is in-
deed so intended. Though it may be conceived
to have a particular tie with the first com-
mandment which follows it immediately, yet
certainly it is withal a most fit preface to
them all, and hath a persuasive influence
into them all ; commanding attention and
obedience, not in the low way of human
rhetoric, but stilo imperatorio, in a kingly
phrase, becoming the majesty of the King of
kings ; I am Jehovah.
Here we have three motives to obedience :
1. His universal sovereignty, Jehovah. 2.
His particular relation to his own people,
Thy God. 3. The late singular mercy be-
stowed on them, That brought thee out oj
the land of Egypt. Each of them sufficient,
and therefore all together most strongly
concluding for obedience to his command-
ments.
1. Jehovah. Not to insist on the ample
consideration of this name of God, of which
divines, both Jewish and Christian, have said
so much, some more cabalistically and cu-
riously, others more soberly and solidly ;
this they agree in, that it is the incommuni-
cable name of the Divine Majesty, and sig-
nifies the primitiveness of his being, and his
eternity : that his being is not derived, but
is in and from himself; and that all other
being is from him : that he is from everlast-
ing to everlasting in himself, without any
difference of time ; but so eternity is express-
ed to our conceiving, He who is, and who
was, and who is to come, Alpha and
Omega.
Now it is most reasonable, that seeing all
things, mankind, and all the creatures that
serve for his good, receive their being from
him, we likewise receive laws from him.
2. His majesty is alone absolute and inde-
pendent ; and all the powers of the world,
the greatest princes and kings, hold their
crowns of him, are his vassals, and owe
obedience to his laws, as much as their mean-
est subjects ; that I say not more, in regard
of the particular obligation that their honour
and eminency given them by him, doth lay
upon them.
3. Jehovah. What are the numerous
styles wherein princes delight and glory so
much, but a vain noise of nothing in compa.
THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
rison of his name, / am ? And in all their
grandeur, they are low, petty majesties, when
mention is made of this Jehovah, who
stretched forth the heavens, and laid the
foundations of the earth, and formed the
tpirit of man within him, Zech. xii. 1.
What gives a man, when he gives all the
obedience he can, and gives himself in obe-
dience to God ? What gives he him, but
what he hath first received from him, and
therefore owes it all as soon as he begins to
be?
This authority of the Lawgiver is the very
life of the law ; it is that we so readily forget,
and that is the cause of all disobedience, and
therefore the Lord inculcates it often, Lev.
xix. 36, 37. / am the Lord, ver. 31, and
again repeated, ver. 37.
This is the apostle St. James's argument,
by which he strongly proves his conclusion,
That he that transyresseth in one, is guilty
of all. He urges not the concatenation of
virtues in themselves, though there is truth
and force in that — he that hath one hath all ;
and so, he that wants any one hath none :
but the sameness of the authority is his me-
dium, For he that said, Thou shall not
commit adultery, said also, Thou shall not
kill, James ii. 11. The authority is the
same, and equal in all. The golden thread
on which these pearls are stringed, if it be
broken in any one part, it scatters them all.
This name of God signifying his authority,
keeps the whole frame of the law together,
and if that be stirred, it falls all asunder.
Thy God. Necessity is a strong but a
hard argument, if it go alone. The sovereign-
ty of God ties all, either to obey his law, or
undergo the punishment. But love is both
strong and sweet ; where there sounds love
in the command, and the relation of the com-
mander, there it is received and cheerfully
obeyed by love. Thus then, " Thy God,
in covenant witli thee," cannot but move
thee.
We see, then, the gospel interwoven with
the law, thy God often repeated, which is
by the new covenant, and that by a Mediator.
God expects obedience from his peculiar
people ; it is their glory and happiness that
they are his. It adds nothing to him, but
much every way to them ; he is pleased to
take it as glory done to him, to take him to
be our God, and doth really exalt and honour
those that do so, with the title and privileges
of his people, Deut. ii. 17, 18. If his own
children break his law, he cannot but take,
that worse.
Who brought thee out of the land of
Egypt. By the remembrance of their late
great deliverance, he mollifies their hearts to
receive the impression of this law.
Herein was the peculiar obligement of this
people ; but ours, typified by this, is not less,
477
tude of sin, and the prince of darkness ;
from these we are delivered, not to licentious,
ness and libertinism, but to true liberty. I/
the Son make you free, you shall be free
indeed. Delivered, Luke i. 74, from the
power of our enemies. To what end ? To
serve him without fear, that terror which we
would be subject to, if we were not delivered ;
and to serve him all the days of our lives :
and that all, if many hundred times longer
than it is, yet too little for him. It is not
such a servitude as that of Egypt, from which
we are delivered, that ended to each one with
his life ; but the misery from which we are
redeemed, begins but in the fulness of it
when life ends, and endures for ever.
The gospel sets not men free to profane-
ness ; no, it is a doctrine of holiness. We
are not called to uncleanness, but to holi-
ness, (says the apostle) ; he hath indeed taken
off the hardness, the iron yoke, and now his
commandments are not grievous, His yoke
it easy, and his burden light ; and they that
are most sensible, and have most assurance
of their deliverance, are ever the most active
and fruitful in obedience ; they feel them-
selves light and nimble, having the heavy
chains and fetters taken off, Psal. cxvi. 16,
bonds : and the comfortable persuasion of
their redemption, is that oil of gladness that
supplies and disposes them to run the way of
God's commandments.
PRECEPT I.
Thou shall have no other Gods but me.
THE first thing in religion is to state the
object of it right, and to acknowledge and
receive it for such. This, I confess, is the
intent of this first precept of the law, which
is therefore the basis and foundation that
bears the weight of all the rest ; and there-
fore (as we said before) though the preface
looks to them all, yet it looks first to this
that is nearest it, and is knit with it, and
through it to all the rest. The preface as-
serted his authority as the strength of his
law, and this first precept commands the ac-
knowledgment and embracing of that his
authority, and his alone as God. And this
is the spring of our obedience to all his com-
mandments.
But before a particular explication of this,
a word, 1. Of the division of this law. 2.
The style of it.
1. Division. That they were divided,
1. Into two tables. 2. Into ten words or
commandments, none can question. We
have the Lawgiver's own testimony clear for
that ; but about the particular way of di-
viding them into ten, and the matching of
but unspeakably greater <rom the cruel servi- these two divisions together, there hath beer.,
478
AN EXPOSITION OF
and still is, some difference ; but this I will
not insist on. Though Josephus and Philo
the Jew would (to make the number equal)
have five precepts in each table; yet the
matter of them is more to be regarded, and
persuades the contrary, that those that
concerr piety, our duty to God, be in
the first table ; and those together in the
second that concern equity, or our duty to
man ; and the summary that our Saviour
gives of the two tables is evidently for this.
And that those precepts of piety, those of
the first table are four, and they of the se-
cond six. And so that first and second, as
we have them, are different and make two,
and the tenth but one, hath the voice both
of antiquity and reason, as many divines on
the Decalogue do usually evince at large ;
which therefore were as easy, as it is need-
less to do over again.
The creed of the Romish church to the
contrary, is plainly impudent presumption
and partiality, choosing rather to blot out
the law, than reform their manifest breach
of it.
2. That I would say of the style of the
commandment, is but in this one particular,
briefly : we see the greatest part of them are
prohibitive, or (as we usually call them,
though somewhat improperly) negative. Thou
shall not, &c. This, as is observed by
Calvin and others, intimates our natural bent
and inclinement to sin, that it suffices not to
shew us what ought to be done, but we are
to be held and bridled by counterm ands
from the practices of ungodliness and unrigh-
teousness.
Thou shall not have, &c.
This order
here, and so in the rest, 1. The scope. 2.
The sense of the words. 3. What it forbids.
4. What it commands : and these follow
each upon other; for out of the scope the
sense is best gathered, and from that the
breach and observation.
As the second commandment concerns the
solemn form of divine worship, that it be not
such as we devise, but as himself appoints.
The third, the qualification Or manner of it,
not vainly nor profanely, but with holy re-
verence. The fourth, the solemn time set
apart for it, the Sabbath. So, this first pre-
cept aims at somewhat which .is previous to
all these.
Many distinguish this and the second,
per cultum internum et externum, by the
internal and external worship : and a grave,
modern divine, espying some defect in that,
doth it, per cultum naluralem et ins tit u-
lum, by natural and instituted. But I con-
fess, both omit, at least they express not (it
may be they take it as implied) that which
is mainly intended, the object of worship ;
that that Jehovah, that gave and himself
spake this law, be received and acknowledged
tor the only true God, and so the only object
of divine worship. And this is that which
he calls cullus naturalis, natural- worship,
that primitive worship, the religious habi-
tude of man to God, giving himself entire,
outward and inward, to his service and obe-
dience ; for this is no other but to own him,
and him only, for that Deity, to whom all
love and worship and praise is due.
It is sure not so convenient to restrain this
precept to inward worship only, for each pre-
cept binds the whole man to obedience ; and
therefore I would not give the first motions
of concupiscence in general, for the sense of
the tenth commandment, as we shall shew
when we come to speak of that. Certainly
even outward worship given to a false god,
breaks this first commandment.
The scope then is briefly, that the only
true God be alone acknowledged for what he
is, and, (as we are able with all our powers
and parts inwardly and outwardly,) that he
be answerably adored ; that we neither change
him for any other, nor join any other with
him, nor be neglective and slack in honour-
ing and obeying him : so that as we are par-
ticularly by each several precept instructed
in, and obliged to the particular duties of it,
by this we are generally tied to give obe-
dience to them all. It is no way inconveni-
ent, but most fit in this general notion, thai
this first commandment import the observ-
ance of itself, and of all the rest.
II. The sense of the words, Nunhabebis.
Heb. Non erunt libi, &c.
1. Erit tibi Deus, Thou shall have A
God.
Deity.
God, that tliou mayest acknowledge him. 3.
" Know me as I have revealed myself in my
word ; know and believe that I, Jehovah,
the author and deliverer of this law, that I
am God, and there is none else," Isaiah xliv.
8. 4. " Offer not therefore either to forsake
me, or to join any other with me ; alienate
no part of my due from me, for my glory I
will not give unto another." 5. " Take me
for thy God ; and give service and honour,
and thyself unto me."
Before my face. " Set them not up in
my sight, for I cannot suffer them, nor their
worshippers ; if they come in my sight, they
will provoke me to anger." The word here
for face, sometimes signifies anger in scrip-
ture ; and it seems to allude to his clear mani.
festation of himself to his people in the de-
livery of the law ; and further, to clear the
doctrine of pure and true religion shining in
the law, which is as it were the light of the
face of God : in which regard, the nations
that knew him not, may be said not to have
their gods before his face ; for though he see
them, they saw not him. Again, before my
face. h If thine idolatry be never so secret,
though it were but in heart, remember that
it will be in my si6ht ; thou canst not steal
Know and believe that there is a
2. Seek to know which is the true
THK TEN COMMANDMENTS.
473
away any of my glory to bestow any where
else, so cunningly and secretly, but I shall
espy thee. If thou canst have any other
gods that I cannot know of, and see not, thou
mayest ; but if thou canst have none but I
shall see them, then beware ; for if I see it,
I will punish it."
III. Breaches or sins against this com-
mandment.
We cannot particularly name all, but some
main ones.
1. That inbred enmity, that habitual re-
bellion that is in our natures against God ;
fftifiifvns i^Z"-) tnat connatural enemy that
takes life with us as soon as ourselves in the
womb. 'Yotfaovnf/.K'nii; «•«»*«?, Themindingof
the flesh, Rom. viii. 6, and the evidence of that,
•UK uTOTa.e-ffi'ra.i, It cannot be ordered, is ever
breaking rank. Some even of those that be-
stow mourning upon sin, yet do not often
enough consider the bitter fountain, and be-
wail it. The wisest way to know things, is
following them home to their causes. Thus
David, Psalm li. 5, " Behold, I was shapen
in wickedness, and in sin hath my mother
conceived me."
2. Atheism. Though there is in the con-
sciences of all men an indelible conviction of
a Deity, so that there have been few of those
monsters found, professed atheists ; yet there
is in us all naturally this of atheism, that by
nature we would willingly be rid of that
light, and quench that sparkle if we could :
and all ungodly men do live contrary to it,
and fight against it.
3. The gross idolatry of the Heathens ;
their (TaXt/SsaTnf, making gods ofbeasts, almost
of every thing, and beasts of themselves
Nullus cnim terminus in falso. The writ-
ers of the primitive church have mightily and
learnedly confuted them : but we will not
stir this dunghill,
so — Hillulim.
The scripture calls idols
4. Witchcraft, necromancy, and magical
arts, that make a god of the devil.
5. Rome's invocation of saints and angels.
Though they take never so much pains to
clear it, they do but wash the blot more.
Thus in the same matter, Jer. ii. 22
" Though thou take thee nitre and much
soap, yet thine iniquity is marked before me,
saith the Lord." All their apologies take
it not away, let them refine it never so much
with pamphlets and distinctions ; all they
attain by spinning it so fine, is but to make
it a part of the mystery of iniquity.
6. Erroneous opinions concerning God,
and generally heresies in religion.
7- Practical or interpretative atheism, or
idolatry, whether of the two you will call it ;
for it is both in the lives of the most : and
the world is full of this, being such as de-
clares they have no God, or that this God is
but some base idol in his stead ; particularly
God, and no endeavour to attain the know-
ledge of him, though in the midst of the
light and means of knowing. 2. Universal
profaneness Sowing from this ignorance,
Hosea iv. 1 — 3. The hearts of men, that
should be the temples of God, are full of
idols ; though we hide them in the closest
corners, they are before his face ; he sees
them — lust and pride and covetousness, Ezek.
viii. Consider, that which you bestow most
thoughts and service on, that which you are
most affectionate and earnest in, is not that
your God ? And is there not something be.
side the true God that is thus deep in the
hearts of the most of us ? Take pains to
make the comparison, look upon the temper
of your minds ; (to say nothing of much
more time spent upon other things than on
him ;) how ardent you are in other affairs
that you think concern you near, and how
cold in serving and honouring him ! But
though, in particular under, gods, in what
serves their honour, they differ, all men
naturally agree in the great idol, himself.
Every man is by corrupt nature his own god.
Was not this the first wickedness that cor-
rupted our nature ? Ye shall be as gods ;
and it sticks to it still. Men would please
themselves, and have themselves somebody,
esteemed and honoured ; and would have all
serve to this end. Is not this God's right
and due they give themselves, to be the end
of all their own actions, and sacrifice all to
their own glory ?
IV. What it commands.
Now by these we may easily gather the
contrary, what is the obedience of this com
mandment. (Though the graces are duties
properly belonging to this commandment,
some divines think fit to expatiate into the
several common-places of them, in explaining
this commandment : yet with all respect to
them, I think it not so fit to dwell upon each
of these herein ; their full handling rather
belonging to that place of divinity that treat*
of the head of sanctification, and those in-
fused habits of which it consists.) It is so to
know the true God, this Jehovah, as to be
persuaded sovereignly to love, and fear, and
trust in him, to serve and adore him.
He is to be feared, for he is great : Who
would not fear thee, thou King of nations 9
To be loved, for he is good ; and because
both great and good, only fit to be wholly
relied on and hoped in.
But love is all ; it gives up the heart, and
by that all the rest to the party loved ; it is
no more its own. Oh that we could love
him ! Did we see him, we should. It it
his uncreated beauty that holds glorified
spirits still beholding and still delighted ; but
we, because we know him not ; if we hare
any thoughts of him, how short are they !
Presently down again we fall to the earth and
amongst ourselves, 1. Gross ignorance of I into the mire ere we are aware. Therefore,
4SU
AN EXPOSITION OF
Set yourselves tofcnow, and love, and wor-
ship this God ; labour that there may be less
of the world, and less of yourselves, and more
of God in your hearts ; more settled and fixed
thoughts of him, and delight in him. Think
not that this is only for the learned, or only
for some retired, contemplative spirits that
have nothing else to do; he is the Most High,
and service and honour are due to him from
all his creatures; and from his reasonable
creatures, reasonable service : and what this
is, hear, from the apostle, and let his exhor-
tation, or his entreaty, persuade you to it :
" I beseech you, therefore, brethren, by the
mercies of God, that you present your bodies
a living sacrifice, (and they are not living
without the soul) holy, acceptable unto God,
which is your reasonable service," Rom. xii.
1, and your truest obedience to this com-
mandment.
PRECEPT II.
Thou shall not make unto thee any graven
image.
THE first commandment binds us to ac-
knowledge and worship the true God ; this,
to the true worship of that God.
As God is not known but by his own
teaching and revealing himself, so he cannot
be rightly worshipped but by his own pre-
scription and appointment.
This is the aim of this second command-
ment, to bind up man's hands, and his
working fancy that sets his hands at work,
and to teach him to depend upon divine di-
rection for the rule of divine worship, and to
ofter him nothing in his service, but what
he hath received from him in command.
The prohibition is general ; Non fades tibi,
thou shall not devise any thing to thyself in
the worship of God : and under that gross
device of images, and worshipping them, ex-
pressly named, are comprehended all other
inventions and will-worship.
There are in the words, 1. The precept ;
Call it
sure it
2. The enforcement of it.
Precept 1 . Thou shall not make.
Thou
shall not imagine, nor invent, nor imitate
Ihe invenlion of olhers : Thou shalt not
make, nor cause to make : in a word, thou
nhalt be no way accessory to the corrupting
of divine worship, with any resemblance, or
image, or human device at all.
The former a particular word, signifying
the then most usual kind of imagery ; but
the other of a most large and general sense,
for all kind of similitude and representalion.
So lhat Ihe dispute Ihe Church of Rome
drives us inlo for her interest in this matter,
about jfSwXav and HXUV, is not only a mere lo-
gomachy, a debate about words, but altogether
Impertinent and extravaganl, having no
ground at all in the words of the command-
nenl ; ihe former whereof is more particular
lhan eilher of these two, and the latter more
general and comprehensive than either they
or any one word we have to render it by.
Of Ike things which are in heaven, &c.
Because the vain mind of man had wandered
up and down the world, and gone through
all these places to find objecls of idolalry : in
leaven the sun, and moon, and stars ; on the
earth nol only men, bul beasls and creeping
ihings, and fishes in ihe waters, and made
images of ihem to worship ; the Lord is there-
fore particular in his countermand.
2. The second part of the precept is con-
cerning their worship, — Thou shalt not bow
down to them, nor serve them.
The former word is more particular, speci-
fying one usual sign of worship, the inclining
or bowing of the body. The other, general :
Thou shalt not serve them ; that is, give
them no kind nor part of religious worship at
all, on whatsoever pretence.
Here again the Popish writers make a noise
wilh lhat distinction, under which they think
to shift the censure of idolatry.
what they will, \KT^V.IV or "Sovtev
comes under the word in the original, which
signifies religious service or worship. Neithei
can ihey ever find in all ihe Scriptures, that
any thing of thai kind should be beslowed
lower than upon the majesty of God himself.
This is then the tenor of the command.
ment. 1. That no image or represenlation
of God be made at all, as is expressed in
many other scriptures, as giving the sense oJ
this precept. 2. Nor that any resemblance
of any creature be made for a religious use. 3,
That neither to any creature, nor to any re-
semblance or image, be given any part of
divine worship, although it were with a pre-
tence, yea, and intention of worshipping the
true God in and by ihem ; which if il were
a sufficient excuse, as the Church of Rome
dreams it is, certainly Ihe Israelites' golden
calf, and many other the grossest idols thai
have been in the world, might come and find
room to shelter under it.
For I, the Lord thy God, am a jealous
God. This follows ihe olher part, the bind-
ing on, or enforcing of the precept by ihreal-
ening and promise annexed. Particularly,
ihere be these five things, by which God des-
cribes himself here, lo persuade obedience lo
this command. 1. His relation to his people
— Thy God. 2. His power both to punish
and reward — El, The strong God. 3. The
exact regard he hath to his own glory,
and zeal or jealousy for it — A jealous God.
4. The certainty and severity of his justice,
punishing ihe Iransgressors of this his law,
on themselves and their posterity — Visiting,
&C. 6. The plenty and riches of his good-
ness to the obedient — Showing mercy, &c.
This commandment, and the fourth, are
THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
longer than the rest, and more backed with
argument, because the light of nature dis-
cerns less in these than in the rest. The
jutwanl manner of the worship of God, and
God's exactness in that, to be served not as we
will, but as he himself sses fit, and concerning
the time of it.
Of the first argument from God's relation
to his people before in the preface, here it is
repeated, because it suits with the word that
follows, jealous. }. Thy God; thy husband
by particular covenant, and therefore jealous
of thy love and fidelity to me in my worship.
2. El, able to right myself upon the mighti-
est and proudest offender. Do we provoke
the Lord to jealousy ? (says the apostle)
Are we stronger than het 1 Cor. x. 22.
There joining these two together (as here
they are) his strength and his jealousy. 3.
Jealous. He is the Lord and husband of
liis people, and idolatry is therefore spiritual
adultery ; as they are often reproached with
it under that name by the prophets, Jer. iii.-
I, &c. So that by that sin particularly his
anger is stirred up against them. The very
contract of this marriage with his people we
have, Exod. xx. 4, 5. Visiting : As judges
and magistrates use to visit those places that
are under their jurisdiction, to make inquiry
after abuses committed in time of their ab-
sence, and to punish them, 1 Sam. vii. 16.
Thus he that is always every where alike
present, yet because he doth not speedily
punish every sin at the first, therefore when
he doth execute judgment in his appointed
time, then is he said to visit, and search, and
find out that iniquity, which, in his time of
forbearance, he seemed to the ungodly either
not to see, or not to regard.
Of the fathers. It is true, the prophet,
correcting the perverse speech of the people
of his time, affirms, That the son shall not
bear the iniquity of the father, &c. Ezek.
xviii. 20 ; to wit, he repenting and returning,
and being no way capable of the like iniquity,
which the people then falsely presumed of
themselves. But neither is it here said, that
the godly children shall suffer for the sin of
their ungodly parents or ancestors ; but be-
cause this sin of idolatry or false worship in
any kind, doth as commonly and readily
descend to posterity, as any other ; and there
is scarce any plea for false religion that takes
more than, It was the religion of our fore-
fathers ; this kind of threatening may pos-
sibly for that cause be here particularly suit-
able.
But sure that is not all that is here intend-
ed, that, if the children do continue in the
sin of the parents, they shall be punished ;
but that, for so high a transgression as this,
he may be justly, and often doth in judgment
give the children over to the sins of their
parents. His grace being free, and so not
being bound to his creatures to furnish grace,
2H
481
but where he will, they go on in the sin of
their fathers, and bring upon themselvei
further punishment, not only temporal, but
spiritual and eternal. It is not necessary
for its verifying, that it be always so : for
God, we know, hath converted many children
of ungodly, yea, particularly of idolatrous
parents, and shewed them ttiircy : but in
that he justly may do thus, it is a just threat,
ening ; and in that he often doth thus, it is
a true threatening, although in mercy he
deal otherwise where it pleaseth him.
Thai hate me. What ! this is so harsh a
word, that nobody will own it ; not the most
dissolute and wicked, not the grossest idola-
ters. Yet generally the love of sin witnesses
against men possessed with it, that they are
9-nxrTvysis, haters of God ; and particularly
the love of idols and false worship alienates
the soul from God, and turns it to enmity
against him. Men seem possibly to them,
selves in false worship humble and devout,
Col. ii. 18 ; but it is to hate and dishonour
the divine majesty, to bring to him and fores
upon him, as it were, in his own presence, in
his immediate service, that which is most
hateful to him.
Shewing mercy to thousands. " Blessing
them and their posterity, being their God,
and the God of their seed."
That love and keep, &c. " That there-
fore obey me, because they love me, and tes-
tify they love me by obeying me. This is a
general truth in regard of all the command-
ments, though more particularly to be applied
to this, to which it is annexed. It forbids,
1. Making any image or resemblance of
God at all. Deut. iv. 15, Ye saw no man-
ner of similitude, &c. To whom will ye
liken me ? Isa. xl. 25, &c
2. The giving any kind of religious ho-
nour and worship to any creature or created
resemblance, Job xxx. 2? ; Ps. cxv. 4 — 8.
The reason why men are so prone to both
these, is, because they are so much addicted
to sense, and their minds are so blinded, that
they cannot conceive of the spiritual nature
of God. Therefore being driven by conscience
to some kind of worship and religion, they
incline to have some visible object of it ; the
soul having lost its sight, leans upon the
body, would make it up and supply it by the
eye of sense.
3. All superstition and will-worship, all
self-pleasing ceremonies and inventions in the
service of God, how pompous and plausible
and devout soever they seem to be, instead
of decoring, they do indeed deface the native
beauty of divine worship ; and, as Popish
pictures on 'glass windows, they may seem
rich and gay, but they darken the house ;
they keep out the light of saving truth, and
obscure the spiritual part of the service ol
God.
4. All gross, material conceits and ap-
AN EXPOSITION OF
prehensions of God. Other particulars may
be reduced to this command ; for this and
the rest name but the main offences and
duties. Then it commands,
1. To learn, and carefully and punctually to
observe the prescription of God in every part of
his own worship, and diligently to be exercised
in it, as in hearing, prayer, sacraments, &c.
2. In worshipping him, to have the purest
spiritual notion of his majesty that we are
able to attain to. God deals by both, by re-
presenting his justice and his mercy, to per-
suade his people to obedience, to drive them
by fear of the one, and draw them by the sweet-
ness of the other. Thus pastors are to set
both before their people ; but as he delights
most in the pressing of his mercy, and per-
suading by that ; so certainly it is that which
prevails most with his own children, and
doth most kindly melt and mould their
hearts to his obedience.
Visit iniquity to thirds and fourths, but
shew mercy to thousands that keep my com-
mandments. Although it be not perfect,
yet it is such a keeping as flows from love,
and therefore love makes up what is wanting
in it ; and that is not perfect neither in u
here, and therefore mercy makes up what is
wanting in both. It is not such love and
obedience as can plead for reward upon merit,
but such as stands in need of mercy, and it
is free grace and mercy that rewards it.
Love and keep. These two are insepar-
able. No keeping the commandments with-
out love ; no love without keeping them.
Try, then, the one by the other ; the sinceri-
ty of your obedience by examining the spring
of it, if it arise from love ; and try the real-
ity of your love, if it be active and fruitful
in obedience.
You know how studious love is to please,
how observant of their will whom it affects,
preferring it to their own will, and desirous
to have no will but the same ; makes hard
things easy, and cannot endure to have any
thing called difficult to it : much love to God
would do this, it would turn all duty into
delight. Did we once know what this were,
we should say, with St. Austin, What needs
threatening and punishment to those that
love thee not ; is it not punishment enough
not to love thee ? If you would have all
your obedience sweet and easy to yourselves,
and acceptable to God, seek above all things
hearts inflamed with his love.
PRECEPT III.
Thou shall not take the name of the Lord
thy God in vain, Qc.
THE Psalmist, stirring up himself to the
praises of God, Psalm Ivii. 8, calls up his
glory to it : Awake, my glory. By glory
the Hebrew interpreters understand the soul ;
the Septuagint and others, the tongue : so
the apostle, following the Septuagint, renders
it, from Psalm xv. 3, Acts ii. 26.
It suits well with both : the soul, being
the better part of man, far excelling the
body ; and amongst the parts of the body,
the tongue having this excellency, to be the
organ of speech, and so the interpreter of the
mind : and this difference from the beasts,
as the soul is, may well partake of its honour-
able name, and be called man's glory.
But that which gives them both best title
to that name, is that exercise to which he
calls them, the praising and glorifying of
their Lord and Maker. Then they are in-
deed our glory, when they are so taken up
and employed, when the one conceives, and
the other utters his glory.
And as it becomes them always to be ons,
as they have one name, the soul and the
tongue to agree, so especially should this
one name given them be answered by their
harmony and agreement in his own work, for
which chiefly they have that name, in giving
glory to God ; and it is that which this com-
mandment requires : forbidding that which is
the ignominy of man, lioth of his soul and of
his tongue, and degrades them, turnsthemout
of the name of glory, to be called shame and
dishonour, that is, irreverence, and dishon»
curing the glorious name of GOD : and there-
fore, on the contrary, commanding the reve-
rent and holy use of his name and service ;
and that we always endeavour so to speak
and think of him, and so to walk before him,
as those that seek, beyond all things, that
his name may be glorified in us and by us.
For though false swearing and vain swear-
ing are main breaches of this command-
ment, (as we shall shew afterwards,) being
primely forbidden by it, yet it extends gene-
rally to all our speeches concerning God.
Neither is it to be restrained there, and kept
within that compass, as if it gave only law
to the tongue ; although, indeed, the tongue
hath a very great share in it, both in the
breaking and keeping of it, yet certainly the
precept in its full sense goes deeper into the
soul, and gives a rule to the speech of the
mind, our thoughts concerning God ; and
larger, stretches itself forth to our actions and
life, that hath as loud a voice to those with
whom we converse^ as our tongues, and is
the more considerable of the two, giving a
truer character of men, what they are indeed,
than their words can do.
The first commandment teaches, and
enjoins whom we shall worship. The se-
cond, what worship we shall give him. This
third shews us with what disposition and in-
tention, and answerably with what manner
of expression we shall worship him and use
his name, that it be not vainly, and after
a common, trivial manner, but in holiness
of humility, and desire of his glory.
THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
483
So, then, this commandment concerns par- !
ticularly that which is the great end of all
the works of God, The glory of his name.
He made all things for himself, Prov. xvi.
4; his works of creation for this end, Isa.
xliii. 7 ; of redemption and new creation of
the elect world, Eph. i. 12, all to his praise I
and glory : and for this end calls he us from :
darkness to light, to shew forth his praises '
or virtues, 1 Pet. ii. 9. This we are to in~
tend with him, and that this precept requires
of us, that which he aimed at in all his
works, the same we may intend in all ours ;
and this is an excellent thing, the holiest and
happiest condition, to make God's purpose
ours, and have the same end with him. Here
it is particularly true, Summa religionis est
imitari quern colis : The main of religion
is to imitate him whom you worship. Thus
are we to live, and particularly so to worship
him, and make mention of his name, that we
be ever sensible of its worth and greatness, and
so beware that we indignify it not, but always
seek to advance the honour and glory of it; and
that is the very scope of this commandment.
There are in it, I . The precept itself ; 2.
The annexed commination.
In the precept, 1. What his name is. 2.
To take it. 3. To take it in vain.
The name. 1. The names that are given
him in Scripture, Jehovah, Elohim, &c.
It was a foolish and profane shift of the Jews,
who thought themselves free, if they abused
not the name Jehovah : and so they became
superstitious in the forbearing that, and li-
centious in the abuse of the rest ; and swear-
ing by other things in heaven and earth, &c.
Which, therefore, our Saviour reproves, giv-
ing the true sense of this commandment,
JUatt. v. 34, &c. And this is the nature of
superstition, to make frivolous, undue re- !
straints, by way of compensation of that pro- '
fane liberty and looseness in the command-
ments of God, which is its usual companion. |
2. All the attributes of God, by which the
Holy Scriptures set him forth to us. 3.
Generally any thing whatsoever by which
God is made known unto us, and distinguish-
ea from all others, and by which we make
mention of him, which are the uses of a
name. In a word, that of St. Paul express- :
Cth it fully and fitly, To y»u<rrn rov 9i--v.
Thou shall not lake. That is, Thou shalt
not take, or lift up, or bear. 1. Not use it
secretly by thyself, or within thyself, in thine
own thoughts, without reverence ; not take it
in vain. So, 2. Not make mention of it, or|
express it to others vainly ; not lift it up in
vain. 3. Not bear, not be called by it, or |
have it called upon thee, not profess it in vain.
In vain. 1. Falsely and dissimulately. !
2. Profanely. 3. Unprofttably, to no pur-
pose. 4. Lightly and inconsiderately, with-
out due regard, and holy fear.
2. The annexed comminalion.
He will not hold him guiltless. " He
will not clear him. The sovereign Judge,
from whose hand no offender can escape, ex-
cept he willingly set him free and absolve
him, he will not absolve them that abuse his
naxie." And it means further, he will not
clear him, that is, he will certainly punish
him, and do judgment on him as guilty.
And this is the rather particularly here ex-
pressed, because men are subject foolishly
to promise themselves impunity in this sin,
think either there remains no guiltiness be-
hind it, but it passes as the words do ; or if
there be any, yet being but a matter of words,,
wherein the most usual and known breach
K this command consists, that the guilti-
ness of them is so small, that any little ex-
cuse may wipe it off; that it is but inadver-
tence, or a bad custom, or some such thing.
" No, (says the Lord, the lawgiver himself,)
delude not yourselves ; think not the honour
and dishonour of my. name a light matter ;
or if you will, yet I will not think it so, nor
you shall not find it so ; though you easily
forgive and clear yourselves, I will not clear
you, but will vindicate the glory of my name
in your just punishment, which your sin of
taking it in vain did abuse and dishonour ;
and you shall feel in that punishment that
you are not guiltless, as you imagined."
The name of God is great and weighty and
honourable, (as the same Hebrew word sig--
nifies both,) and therefore, qui assumunt
vel attolliint, as the word here is ; they that
ofFer to lift up this weighty name lightly and
regardlessly, it shall fall upon them, and
they shall be crushed under the weight
of it.
There are many questions relating to this
commandment handled and discussed by
divines, as of an oath, a vow, &c., which,
for our purposed brevity, we will pass by ;
and only, according to our usual method,
add some chief heads of the violation and
observance of this commandment.
1. All false swearing or perjury, which is
to take his name after the grossest manner,
in vain, or in mendacium, as the word like-
wise signifies ; to call Truth itself, the First
Verity, to partake of a lie. But he is not
mocked ; for as the nature of an oath imports
invocating him as the highest both witness
and judge of truth, and punisher of false-
hood, he always in his own due time makes
it good on those that dare adventure upon
that guiltiness in so high a kind.
2. Papal dispensation of oaths, which is a
most heinous sin, and becomes him that is
eminently called the man of sin. It is more
than perjury, for it is a professed, avowed
patronage of perjury, together with an im«
pudent conceit of a privilege and right to
do so. ,
3. Equivocatory oaths, by which, if it were
lawful, the grossest perjury miyht be defend. .
AN EXPOSITION OF
ed ; for there is nothing so false, but some
mental reservation may make it true.
4. Abusing the name and word of God
to charms and spells.
5. Execration and cursing by the name
of Satan, which is no other but invocating
him.
6. Swearing by any creature.
7. Abusing and vilifying the glorious and
holy name of God, by passionate or by vain
and common customary swearing.
8. Swearing for ends of controversy, and
in weighty matters where an oath is lawful,
yea, necessary, yet doing it without due re-
verence, and consideration of the greatness
of God, and the nature of an oath.
9. Abusing of the word of God, either
wresting it to defence of error, or making
sport and jesting with it.
10. Scoffing and taunting at holiness, and
the exercises of religion.
11. Dishonouring the religion which we
profess by unworthy and unsuitable carriage
of life.
12. Performing prayer, or any other reli-
gious exercise, only out of custom, without
affection and delight, and holy regard of the
presence and majesty of God in his worship.
More might be added, which for brevity we
omit.
Is it not the highest shame of Christians
to take pleasure to vilify and abuse that holy
name of God, that saints and angels are
blessing above, and which we hope, (as we
pretend,) to bless with them for ever ? If
any dare offer to excuse it, by provocation
or passion, that otherwise use it not ; consi-
der what a madness this is, because man
hath injured thee, thou wilt injure God, and
be avenged upon his name for it. And you
that plead custom, accuse yourselves more
deeply ; that tells you are guilty of long
continuance in, and frequent commission of,
this horrible sin. Were the fear of God in
men's hearts, it would prevail both above
their passion and their custom. Did they
believe this, that the Lord will not clear in
his great day, it would fright them out of
their custom. Were there a law made, that
whosoever were heard swear, should be put
to death, you would find a way to break your
custom : God threatens eternal death, and
you fear not, because indeed you believe
not.
Generally, the reverent and holy use of the
name of God : and particularly, 1. In case
of necessity, by advised and religious swear-
ing by his name, and his alone, in judgment,
truth, and righteousness. 2. Consider his
name often, to take it into our thoughts, to
meditate on his glorious attributes, and on
his word and works : in both which those at-
tributes shine forth unto us. 3. To delight
to make mention of his name upon all fit ac-
our holy profession of religion with a holy
life, with wise and circumspect walking, that
it may not be evil spoken of by our means.
5. That our heart and affection be in the
sf.rvice of God which we perform, otherwise
(how plausible soever the appearance and
outside of it is) it is nothing but guiltiness
within, a taking of his name in vain, who
will not hold them guiltless that do so. C.
Above all exercises, to delight in the praises
of God, which is most properly the exalting
and magnifying of his name, the lifting it
up on high. The Psalmist abounds in com-
mending it ; it is good, it is comely, it is
pleasant. Oh ! that we could resolve with
him, Psal. xxxiv. 1, 2, " I will bless the
Lord at all times ; his praise shall be in my
mouth continually. My soul shall make her
boast in the Lord," &c. This is, as we can,
to bear a part here with glorified spirits ;
and a certain privilege to us, that after a few
days we shall be admitted into their num-
ber.
PRECEPT IV. .
Remember to keep holy the Sabbath-
day, &c.
AMONGST all the visible creatures, it is
man's peculiar excellency, that he is capable
of considering and worshipping his Maker,
and was made for that purpose ; yet, being
composed of the dust of the earth, and the
breath of God, a body and a soul, the neces-
sities of that meaner part, while we are in
this life, employ as much, and take up a
great part of our little time. And in this
regard God hath wisely and graciously set a-
part a day for us, one of each seven, to be
appropriate to that our highest employment,
the contemplating and solemn worshipping
of his majesty. This is the scope of this
precept :
1. The precept itself. 2. The reason of it,
and motive to its obedience. The precept it-
self is first briefly expressed. 3. Further ex-
plained and urged.
Remember. This word used, I . It seems
to reflect upon by-past omission and forget-
fulness ; for though it was instituted in para-
dise, and was not now a new, unheartl-of
thing to this people, as appears by Exod.
xvi. 23 ; yet it is likely they were much worn
out of the observation and practice of it, es-
pecially during the time of their captivity in
Egypt. So then it is renewed thus : " Keep
holy this day which you know was so long
ago appointed to be so ; be not now any more
unmindful and regardless of it." 2. Such
a way of enjoining seems more particularly
needful in this 'than in the rest, because it is
not so written in nature as the rest, but de-
casions, and to speak to his glory. 4. To adorn peuds wholly upon particular institution,
THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
485
which may also be the cause why it is so
large, and the form of it alone amongst all
he teii, both nsgative and positive — Thou
shall do no ivork, and Remember to keep it
holy. 3. But the main reason of this re-
member is the main thing or aim in this
precept, as both the badge, and the pre-
server, and increaser of all piety and reli-
gion. And therefore is it, that it is so often
pressed in the books of the law, and sermons
of the prophets, to the people of God, and
so often called a sign of God's covenant with
them, and their mark of distinction from all
other people.*
The sabbath-day. It is called a day of
rest, from the beginning and original of its
institution, God's rest ; and from the end of
its institution, man's rest ; both which follow
in the words of the command : the one is
the example and enforcing reason of the
other.
That thou keep holy. God sanctioned
it by instituting it, and man sanctifies it by
observing it according to that institution.
This sanctifying is, 1. In cessation from
earthly labours. 2. In their stead to be
wholly possessed and taken up with spiritual
exercise, both in private and in public. The
former is necessary for the being of the latter,
that cessation for this work ; and the latter
is necessary for the due being of the former ;
we cannot be vacant and entire for spiritual
service, unless we cease from bodily labour ;
and this cessation or resting from bodily la-
bour, cannot be a sanctifying of this day unto
God, unless it be accompanied with spiritual
exercise.
In the following words, that part is only
expressed, the rest or abstinency from work;
ibut the other is supposed as the end of this,
that they shall not do their own works, that
1 they may-attend upon God's — his solemn
[worship. And that is implied in that word,
\It is the Sabjbath of the Lord thy God, both
f his own appointing, and for this end thi:
work, that he may be more solemnly wor-
shipped. And likewise the antithesis that
seems to be in that word, In six days thou
shall do all thy work, imports, that on the
seventh thou shall do God's : not so called,
hat any benefit arises to him by our service ;
no, our goodness reaches him not at all.
That way, that worship that is far above ours,
;hat of the angels, can add nothing to him ;
"or he is infinite. Even this work, sabbath's
work, and all our prayers and praises offered to
liin, and all performances of his worship,
.hey are our works in respect of the gain
and advantage of them ; it comes all back to
us. But his worship is his work objective-
ly ; he is the object of it, and directively
)j particular prescription from himself,
and, if you will add, effectively too — nevei
* Exod. xxiii. 12, and xxxi. 13, 14 ; Lev. xix. 20
xv. 2, &c. ; Jer. xvii. -1, 22 ; ha. Iviii. 13, 14. ic.
lone aright but by his own grace and assist-
.nce.
Six days shall thou labour, &c. The
lommand of due labour and diligence in our
jarticular callings, is not of this place ; it
>elongs properly to the eighth precept, and
some way to the seventh ; here it is only
mentioned premissively, and for illustration
of this duty here enjoined. And further,
there is under it a motive from abundant
equity : seeing God hath made the propor-
ion thus, not pinched to us, but dealt very
iberally in the time granted for our own
work, what gross, not impiety only, but ini-
quity and ingratitude will it be, to encroach
upon that small part he hath nominated and
set apart for his service ! This was a great
aggravation of our first parents' sin, that
tiaving _ the free use of all the trees in {lie
garden besides, they would not abate that
one that was forbidden them, in homage and
obedience to him that had given them all
the rest, and given them themselves, who a
little before were nothing.
Thou shall labour. Not so as in them to
forget and take no notice of God, not at all
to call upon him and worship him, and think
to acquit all by some kind of attendance on
him on the sabbath. They that do so, are
most unsanctified themselves, and therefore
cannot sanctify the sabbath to God. Such
profane persons do profane and pollute all
they touch with their foul hands, for such be
all profane hands lift up to God in prayer.
The life of the godly is not a visiting of God
only in his house on this day, but a daily
and constant walking with God in our own
houses, and in all our ways ; making both
our houses and our hearts, his houses, his
temples, where he may dwell with us, and
we may offer him our daily sacrifices.
Only the peculiar of this day is, that we
may not divide it betwixt heaven and earth,
that it shall be wholly for the service of God,
and no work at all to have place in it that
may hinder that, and suits not with the sanc-
tifying of it ; for so we are to understand the
word, No manner of work.
Neither thou nor thy servant, &c. As
each one is obliged personally, so they that
have command of others, are bound to bind
them to observance, and the cattle to rest,
because their labour is for man's use, and
therefore his resting infers theirs ; as likewise
their rest is for a passive conformity, that
man may see nothing round about him, but
what may incite to the observance of thi»
day ; which was the reason, in solemn fasts,
of the beasts fasting likewise, for man's fur-
ther humiliation. The stranger, if convert,
ed and professing their religion, the same
reason for him, as for all others within a
mail's house ; and if a stranger to their re-
ligion too, yet they might and ought, as here
commanded, oblige him to this piirt of out»
436
AN EXPOSITION OF
wird conformity, cessation from wjrk, which God, which yet are restrained (though not
otherwise would be an offensive ai.l scanda- converted) by the preaching of the word, and
Ions sight ; and withal, if they di.l any work
for those \.lth whom they dwelt, their share
would be deeper in the sin, tha i of such a
tranger, not professing their religion.
For in six days. It is not pertinent here
to speak of the reason of this, why God made
six days' work of that which he could have
done in one instant. Here it is only urged
exemplarily, as the reason why Go:l did sanc-
tify this day, and why we should sanctify it.
His rest, you know, is not of weariness, or at
all from ceasing from motion : For he faints
not, neither is wearied, as he tells us by the
Prophet ; yea, he moves not at all in work-
ing, Omrda movet ipse immotus. But this
rest is this, that this was the day that imme-
diately followed the perfecting of the creation
and therefore God blessed it with this privi-
lege, (that is the blessing of it,) that it
should be to men holy, for the contemplation
of God and of his works, and for solemn wor-
ship to be performed to him.
All the other precepts of this law remain-
ing in full force in their proper sense, it can-
no!, but be an injury done to this command
either flatly to refuse it that privilege, or
which is little better, to evaporate it into
allegories. Nor was the day abolished as a
heir outward partaking of public worship ;
yea, those that are most spiritual, would find
;hemselves losers by the intermission !
1. Bodily labour on this day, where ne-
cessity unavoidable, or piety, commands not.
2. Sportings and pastimes.* This is not to
make it a sabbath to God, but to our lusts,
and to Satan ; and hath a stronger antipathy
ivith the worship of God, and that temper of
mind they intend in it, than the hardest
labour. 3. Resting from these, but withal,
resting from the proper work of this day,
neglecting the worship of God in the assem-
blies of his people ; the beasts can keep it
thus, as we see in the precept. 4. Resorting
to the public worship of God, but in a custo-
mary, cold way, without affection and spiri-
tual delight in it. 5. Spending the remain-
der of the day incongruously, in vain visits
and discourses, &c.
1. By pious remembrance of it, and pre-
paration, sequesterng not only the body from
the labour, but our souls from the cares and
other vain thoughts of the world. 2. Attend-
ing upon the public worship of God willingly
and heartily, as the joy and refreshment of
our souls, Isa. Iviii. 13, 14; Psal. cxxii.
3. Spending the remainder of it in private,
typical ceremony, but that seventh only holily, as much as may be, in meditation of
changed to a seventh still, and the very next
to it ; he that is Lord of the sabbath, either
himself immediately, or by his authority in
his apostles, appointing that day of his re-
surrection for our sabbath ; adding to the
remembrance of the first creation, the memo-
rial of accomplishing the new creation, the
work of our redemption, which appeared then
manifestly to be perfected, when our Re-
deemer broke the chains of death, and
arose from the grave ; he that is the
light of the new world, shining forth anew
the same day that light was made in the
former creation. This day was St. John in
the spirit taken up with those extraordinary
revelations, Rev. i. 10. They were extra-
ordinary indeed ; and certainly every Chris-
tian ought to be in the Spirit, in holy medi-
tations and exercises on this day more than
the rest, winding up his soul, which the
body poises downwards, to a higher degree
of heavenliness ; to be particularly careful to
bring a humble heart to speak to God in
prayer, and hear him in his word ; a heart
breathing after him, longing to meet with
himself in his ordinances. And certainly it
is safer and sweeter to be thus affected to-
wards the Lord's day, than to be much busied
about the debate of the change.
The very life of religion doth much depend
upon the solemn observation of this day :
consider but, if we should intermit the keep-
ing of it for one year, to what a height pro-
faneness would rise in those that fear not
the word preached, and conference ; in prayer,
reading and meditating on the great works
of God, of creation, redemption, &c.
This is the loveliest, brightest day in all
the week to a spiritual mind ; these rests
refresh the soul in God, that finds nothing
but turmoil in the creature. Should not this
day be welcome to the soul, that sets it free
to mind its own business, which is on other
days to attend the business of its servant,
the body ? And these are a certain pledge to
it of that expected freedom, when it shall
enter on an eternal sabbath, and rest in Him
for ever, who is the only rest of the soul.
PRECEPT V.
Honour thy father and' thy mother, that
thy days may be long in the land which
the Lord thy God ffivSth tfiee.
THE renewed image of God in man, or
the new man, is made up of holiness and
righteousness, Eph. iv, 24. These two are
that of which the whole law of God is the
rule : the first table, the rule of holiness or
piety towards God : the second, of righte-
ousness or equity towards men. And of the
commandments that concern this, the first
aims at the preserving of that order which
God hath appointed in the several relations
of superiors and inferiors ; that is the scope
of this fifth commandment.
* 3abb. vituli aurd.
THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
48?
1 Daily experience teaches us how needful
this is, that God give a particular precept
concerning this ; in that we see how few
there are that kno-.v aright, either how to com-
mand and bear rule as superiors, or as infe-
riors to obey and be subject ; and there is one
evil very natural to men that misleads them
in both, pride and self-opinion, which often
make superiors affect excess in commanding,
and inferiors defective in due obedience.
. It hath the first place in the second table.
1. As being the rule of order and society
amongst men, which is needful for the better
observing of all the rest ; and in all authori-
ty there is a particular resemblance of God,
and therefore fitly placed next to those pre-
cepts that contain our duty to himself. He
is pleased to use that interchange of names
with superiors that testifies this resemblance,
not only to take theirs to himself, to be call-
ed & father, a master, or king, &c. but to
communicate his own name to them, and
call them gods. And where the apostle
speaks of God as the Father of spirits, he
draws a reason from that obedience we owe
to the fathers of our flesh, as the subordinate
causes of our being.
1. The precept. 2. Promise. And it
is called by the apostle, the first command-
merU with promise. For the last clause of
the second commandment, though it imply a
promise, yet (as is usually observed) it is
general to the keeping of all the command-
ments ; whereas this is appropriate. But,
again, it is a promise of a mercy in general ;
this of one particular blessing. 3. It is not
formally a promise, though it implies one
indeed, and is intended so ; but it is set
down by way of description of God, from his
mercy and bounty to those that keep his
precepts ; as the clause foregoing it, express-
es his justice in punishing the rebellious.
Honour. Under this is comprehended
whatsoever is due to superiors, by virtue of
that their station and relation to us ; inward
respectful thoughts and esteem of them, and
outward expressions and signifying of it by
the usual signs of honour, and by obedience
and gratitude, &c.
Thy father, &c.
ed for all the rest, as being the first and most
natural. 2. The sweetest and most affection-
ate superiority ; and therefore the fittest to
regulate the command of superiors, and to
persuade inferiors to obedience. Magistrates
are fathers for men's civil good in their so-
cieties, and dwelling together ; ministers,
fathers for their spiritual good and society as
Christians.
That thy days may be long, &c. That
it is said, which the Lord thy God shall
give thee, is peculiar to that people to whom
this law was first delivered ; but the substance
of the promise being commonj extends to all
with the precept
This blessing of length of days is p&rticu-
larly fit for the duty ; that they who honour
their parents, who are the second causes of
their life, shall be blessed with long life.
This, as all other promises of temporal
things, is ever to be taken with that condi.
tion, without which they might change their
quality, and .prove rather punishments ; but
God always bestows them on his own, and
therefore ought to be understood so to pro-
mise them, in so far as they are fit for them,
and may be truly good in their particular
enjoyment, and as they conduce to a greater
good.
1. All disobedience in inferiors to the just
commands of those that God hath placed in
authority above them ; stubbornness and re-
bellion in children against their parents, or
despising and disesteem of them for their
meanness in body, or mind, or estate. The
precept is not, " Honour thy parents for
their riches, or wisdom, or comeliness ;" but
" Honour them as thy parents, and because
they are so." Against this command is all
other disobedience or refractoriness of those
that owe obedience ; wives to their husbands,
servants to their masters, people to their
pastors, &c.
2. Superiors break it when they abuse their
authority to serve their pride. Their screw-
ing it too high is very unpleasant, a particu-
lar dishonour to God, and defaces the re-
semblance they have of him ; spoils their
harmony, as a string too high wound up ;
and besides that, it is very dangerous, being
the ready way to break it. As in magistracy
and public government tyianny is most ob-
servable, there is petty tyranny in masters
and parents, &c., in extreme harshness and
1. This relation isnam-
bitterness, &c. ;
ri, says the apos-
tle, &c. Again, when superiors walk unwor-
thily, and so divest themselves of that honour
whit4i belongs to them.
First, That children give due respect and
obedience to their parents ; and all that are
subject to the authority of others, though
they have not suitable deserving, give it to
their station, in obedience to God who com-
mands ; for though they, personally consi-
dered, do not, yet certainly God deserves our
obedience ; and it is so much the purer to
him, when other incitements failing, yet we
observe that which fails not at all. All obe-
dience to men is limited thus, that it be in
the Lord, and with regard to his supremacy ;
and therefore no authority can oblige to the
obedience of any command that crosses his.
Authority .is primitively and originally in
God, and he gives not his glory to another;
he gives not away any of his peculiar authori-
ty to man, but substitutes him ; and our
first tie is to God, as his creatures, and thU
is universal ; the greatest kings are his vas-
sals, and owe him homage, and no authority
derived from him can free us from that which
•JS8
AN EXPOSITION OF
we owe to himself. There is a straight line
of subordination, and if superiors leave this,
we are to adhere to it, looking directly to
God, keeping our station. Some of the
schoolmen think that the inferior angels
therefore fell with the chief in the apostacy,
because they looked so much upon him, that
they considered him not in subordination to
God, and so left their station, as the apostle
Secondly, The duty of all superiors is, 1.
To consider that their higher station is not
for themselves, and for- their, own advantage,
but for those that are in subjection to them ;
as the stars are set in the highest place, but
are for the benefit of the inferior world, by
their light, and heat, and influence. Let them
be for lights in the firmament of heaven, to
give light upon the earth, Gen. i. 15. 2. Let
them always remember to command in God,
and for him ; to prefer his honour to their
own, seeing he gives command concerning
theirs, that they make it serviceable for the
advancing of his ; for to this purpose hath he
given them authority, and given command
that they be honoured : and his promise is
to honour those that honour him, but they
that despise him shall be despised. Thi
many superiors have felt because they would
not believe it, and take notice of it.
Would parents teach their children to
know God, and honour and obey him, thi
were the surest and most effectual way to
make them obedient children to them : il
they teach them to obey God, you see he com-
mands them to obey their parents ; and there-
fore in obedience to him they will do so.
PRECEPT VI.
Thou shalt not kill : or, Thou shall do no
murder.
THE world was at first perfect harmony,
but sin made the breach at which discon
entered ; enmity betwixt God and man, anc
betwixt man and man. As the sin that hath
poisoned man's nature makes him a rebel to
God, so it makes them tigers and wolves one
to another : and that same serpent that at
first envenomed our nature, doth still hiss on
wretched men, both to disobedience agains
God, and enmity and cruelty against oni
another. We see how soon this evil follow
ed upon the former ; the first parents dis
obeyed God, and the first children, the oni
killed the other. In opposition to this evil
God hath given this to be one of his ten pre
cepts, Thou shalt not kill.
Having given a rule touching the particu-
lar relations of men, the following command,
ments of the second table concern the genera'
duties of all men one to another ; and th
sixth regardeth his being or life.
Not MIL This ties not up the sword of
ustice, which is in the magistrate's hand,
rom punishing offenders, even with death,
those that deserve it ; but rather calls for the
use of it, not being to be carried in vain, as
the apostle says ; not a gilt sword only for
show, i;ut to be drawn and wielded for the
execution of justice ; both that, in the just
punishment of sin, (xoXao-/;,) the sinner
may eat of the fruit of his ow.i ways, and so
God, the supreme judge and fountain of jus-
tice, may be honoured, (ji^u^ttt,') and that,
by tha texample, (<r«£aSs/y,«a,) others may
be terrified from the like offences. And thus,
just killing by the sword of the magistrate,
is a main means of the observing this com-
mandment amongst men, Thou shall not
kill.
By the like reason is just war likewise
freed from the breach of this commandment.
But,
The scope of the precept being the pre-
servation and safety of the life of man, and
guarding it from violence, it is evident that
all injury to our neighbour's life, our own not
excluded, is forbidden. And not only the
heinous fault of murder, which human laws
do punish, but all the seeds and beginnings
of this sin in the heart, to which principally,
as the fountain of our actions, the spiritual
law of God is given, as the authentic inter,
pretation of our Saviour teacheth, Matt, v.,
and particularly touching this commandment,
ver. 21, &c.
1. All fixed hatred of our brethren is for-
bidden, as the highest degree of heart murder.
Thou shalt not hate thy brother in thy
heart, Lev. xix. 17. And 1 John iii. 15 :
Whosoever hatelh his brother, is a mur-
derer ; and he adds, that ye know that no
murderer hath life eternal abiding in him.
So, then, he is in a woeful, deadly condition,
in whose heart this hatred dwells.
This is an infernal kind of fire, like your
fires under ground, that cannot be quenched ;
so far is it from the temper of any spiritual
and heavenly mind to be subject to it. There
is not any thing more contrary to the Spirit
of God, and the work of his grace, than the
spirit of malice, although it never break forth
to revenge ; yet if the heart rejoice when evil
befals those it dislikes, although it come
from another hand, yet God accounts it, as
if he, that is glad at it, had inflicted it, and
been the worker of it. Therefore Job pro-
tests 'thus : " That he rejoiced not at the de-
struction .of him that hated him, nor lifted up
his soul when evil found him," Job xxxi. 29.
2. Rash anger, either that which is
altogether without just cause, or upon some
just cause arises to an undue measure. And
is not this the ordinary disease of the
greatest part, and habitual bitterness of
spirit, that is put out of its seat and trou-
bled with every trifling cause, peevishly
THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
489
rtined up with the shadow and imagination
of a wrong, where none is done ?
3. The vent of these passions of envy and
hatred, or sudden, rash auger, by railings
and strife, and bitter speaking, by scoffs and
taunts, by whisperings and detraction, which
are the common exercise of base and unworthy
spirits.
This commandment requires, that, to the
avoiding and forbearance of all injury to the
life of our neighbour, we add a charitable
disposition and desire of preserving it, and
do accordingly act that charity to our utmost
power to the good and comfort of his life ;
using towards him meekness and patience,
clemency and beneficence, doing him good,
supplying his wants as we are able ; for it is
cruelty to the life of our poor brethren to be
strait-handed towards them in the day of
their necessity and our abundance, at least,
of our comparatively better estate. 1 John
iii. 17.
But we think we do much this way, when
upon right trial we should find ourselves ex-
ceedingly defective : we look upon our few
and petty acts of charity with a multiplying
glass, and see one as it were ten. Who al-
most are there, that will draw somewhat from
their excesses, to turn into this channel ;
that will abate a lace from their garment, or
a dish from their table, to bestow upon the
necessities of the poor ? In a word, we ought
not only to be free from hurting, but be a
tree of life to our neighbour.
Let us then be convinced of our guiltiness
in breach of this precept. Men think it
much if they can forgive, upon acknowledg-
ment and submission of those that 'have in-
jured them ; but they aspire not to this, cor-
dially to forgive those that still continue to
wrong and provoke them, to compassionate
them, and pray for them, and repay all their
evil with meekness and good-will.
We consider not how sublime the rule of
Christianity is, and how low our spirits are,
and hrw far off from it. Be not overcome
of evil, (says the apostle,) but overcome evil
with good, Rom. xii. 21. It is easy to over-
come a man that resists not, but yields ; to
pardon injury when it ceaseth, and entreats
pardon : but when it holds out, and is so
to anger ; and it is not the degree of provo-
cation, but the different temper of men's
spirits, makes them more or less subject to
anger. It matters not how great the fire be,
but where it falls.
Consider, first, that these turbulent pas-
sions carry their punishment along with
them ; they rankle and fester the soul,
and fill it full of pain and disturbance ;
whereas the spirit of meekness makes the
soul of a Christian like the highest region of
the air, constantly calm and serene : the apos-
tle, speaking of this commandment of love,
says, That the commandments of God are
not grievous. C'ertainly there is such a true
pleasure in meekness, forgiving of injuries,
and loving our very enemies, that did men
know it, they would choose it for thj very de.
light and sweetness of it, though there were
no command to enforce it.
2. Consider, particularly against rash
anger, how weak and foolish a thing it is :
Anger resteth in the bosom of fools, saith
Solomon. A fool's breast is the very natural
place of anger, where it dwells. But, as he
says elsewhere, A man of understanding is
of an excellent spirit, Prov. xvii. 9 : the
word is, a cool spirit. What a senseless
mistake is it for men to think it strength
and greatness of spirit to bear nothing, to be
sensible of every touch, and stand upon their
punctilios ! Is it not evident weakness to be
able to suffer nothing ? We see the weak-
est persons most subject to anger ; women,
children, and the sick, and aged persons ;
old age being both a continued sickness, and
a childishness, as they call it, and as the
dregs of man's life turned into vinegar. It
is the weakness of all these that makes them
fretful.* In a word, it is the glory of a
man to pass by a transgression ; every one
can be angry, and most are they that are
weakest ; but to be above it, and have it
under command, is the advantage of those
that are truly wise, and therefore worthy of
our study to attain it.
3. That which should most prevail with
Christians to study love and meekness of
spirit, and a propension to do good to all, is
the conformity that is in this temper to our
Head and Redeemer, Jesus Christ, to par.
stout as still to fight against that goodness | take of his dove-like spirit. Learn of me
and meekness that it meets withal, yet the j (says he,)/or lam meek and lowly in heart,
Christian ought to persist in these, and over- 1 Matt.
come it with good. And see our Saviour's
rule to them that will be his disciples, Matt.
v. 44, against hatred and wrath. Labour
for humble spirits. Pride is the spring of
malice, and desire of revenge, and of rash
anger and contention. This makes men
easily swell against any thing that crosses
them, because they have laid down this with
themselves, that they deserve to be observed
and respected, and not crossed at all ; and
when they find it otherwise, it kindles them
xi. 29. And this he hath given as the
commission and badge of his disciples, that
as he loved them, so they love one another.
PRECEPT VII
Thou shall not commit adultery.
As the perverseness of nature hath found
out crooked ways, and sinful abuses of things
* Omne infirmum natura qumilum.
490
AN EXPOSITION OF
that we enjoy and use ; the holy law of God cannot but have filthy hearts ; their noisome
aims at the rectifying these abuses, and breath argues rottenness within.
by a
bounding and limiting our ways
straight rule.
And this precept particularly bars us from
all sinful uncleanness, under the name of one
kind of it. That, answerably to our condi-
tion or estate of life, whatsoever it is, single
or married, we ought to endeavour that clean-
ness, and purity of soul and body, that be-
comes the temples of the Holy Ghost.
I purpose not to reckon up particularly the
several sorts and degrees of sin of this kind ;
for chastity is a delicate, tender grace, and
can scarcely endure the much naming of it-
self, far less of those things that are so con-
trary to it ; though in the law of God given
to the people of the Jews, there is express
mention of the gross abominations of this
kind, because practised by the Gentiles, and
to be forbidden them. And though the apos-
tle, writing to the Gentiles newly converted
from those abominations, of necessity men-
tions particulars of them ; yet, further than
that necessity of reproving them, where they
are in custom, requires, he hates the very
naming of them, Eph. v. 3 — 12. As the
old Roman sat: lists, while they seem to re-
prove vice, rather teach it by their impuden:
descriptions of it ; the new Roman casuists
some of them, are as foul that way.
It may suffice to regulate us in this, if we
believe this truth, that whatsoever in this
kind, besides the lawful use of marriage, is
a breach of this holy law of God, whether it
be in action or in words, or so much as in
thought. And if this be true, (as it is, il
we believe Truth itself, our Saviour's inter-
pretation,) that an unchaste look, or thought,
makes a man guilty, then sure whatsoever is
beyond these, is more grossly sinful.
What a shameful thing is it, that our holy
profession of religion should be so dishonour-
ed by the abounding of uncleanness amongst
us ! In many it breaks forth scandalously ;
and if there be any that live in that way o
wickedness undiscovered, and walk secretly
in it ; yet the pure Lord, who perfectly sees
and hates it, will call them to account, and
judge them, according to the apostle's word,
Ileb. xiii. 4. Consider this likewise, any of
you that have not lamented your former im-
pure conversation, but being reformed out-
wardly by your years, or condition of life,
yet never have inwardly repented and been
deeply humbled for the sins of your youth.
True conversion is not so light a work.
David, Ps. xxv. 7> remembers his former
jins, and prays earnestly that God would not
remember them against him : and, on the
contrary, you that think not on them, may
justly fear that God will remember them, be-
cause you yourselves have forgot them.
They that give their tongues the liberty
of scurrilous jesting, and impure speeches,
Yea, they that proceed no further in un«
cleanness, than to entertain and lodge the
fancies or thoughts of it, rolling them in
their beds, and delighting in them, even such
are exceeding guilty and abominable in the
sight of God, who doth not only see into the
heart, but most of all eyes and regards it.
Keep thy heart above all keeping, says So-
Idiiion ; for from thence are the issues of
life. Certainly, they that can dispense with
themselves in these inward heart uncleannesses,
and find no remorse, cannot think the Spirit
of God dwells within them ; for if he were
there, he would be shewing his discontent
and anger against that unholiness, which is
so contrary to him.
And this they that have any truth of grace
will find, that if they be not either free from
the assaults, or at least those filthy birds,
such impure thoughts be not perfectly beaten
away, when they light on the soul, if they
stay but any time with them, although they
afterwards do chase them out with indigna-
tion ; yet they do leave such a stain, as
grieves and saddens the Holy Spirit in them,
and for a time they find it not act in prayer,
and in spiritual comfort, so cheerfully as be-
fore. Let no corrupt (or rotten) communi-
cation proceed out of your mouth, says the
apostle ; and grieve not the Holy Spirit s
rotten speech grieves the Holy Spirit, and so
do such thoughts too, which are a n-.an's
speech with himself; and therefore being
most familiar and frequent with him, ought
to be most regarded and watched over.
There is not any thing will more readily dry
up the sweetness and spiritual moisture of the
soul, and cause the graces in it to wither,
than the impure fire of lust ; therefore you
that have any beginnings of grace, and would
have it flourish, beware of this, and quench
it in its first sparkles ; if you do not, it may
in a little time rise above your power, and
still prove very dangerous.
If you would be freed from the danger and
importunity of this evil, make use of these
usual and very useful rules. 1. To be sober
and temperate in diet ; withdraw fuel. 2. Be
modest and circumspect in your carriage ;
guard your ears and eyes, and watch over
all your deportment ; beware of undue and
Dangerous familiarities with any, upon what
wetence soever. 3. Be choice in your society,
for there is much in that. 4. In general, fly
all occasions and incentives to uncleanness ;
)ut truly the solid care must begin within,
otherwise all these outward remedies will prove
)ut empiric medicines, as they call them.
1. First, then, lean not upon moral resolves
.nd particular purposes against uncleanness,
)ut seek a total, entire change of the heart,
and to find the sanctifying Spirit of grace
Iwelling within you.
THE TEX COMMANDMENTS.
491
2. Labour to have the heart possessed with
a deep apprehension of the holiness and purity
ef Gcd, and then of his presence and eye up-
on all thy actions, yeathymost secret thoughts.
His eye is more piercing than that any wicked-
ness can be hid from him, and more pure
than to behold it without indignation. The
darkness is as noon-day to him. I cannot
steal a thought out of his sight, though it be
never so sudden and short. Then think, 'k If
I pretend to communion and converse with
my God, he is all holiness, therefore unclean-
ness can never attain that to which I aspire.
What communion hath light with darkness,
or Christ with Belial ? And shall I lose or
hazard the sweetness of his presence for so
base a delight ? How can I offer that heart
to him in prayer, that hath been wallowing
in the mire of unclean practice or imagina-
tion ?" Resolve to drive out the assaults that
you are incident to : " How shall I do, or
think thus ? My holy God is looking on
me." This was Joseph's preservation, Shal
J do this evil, and sin against God ?
3. Acquaint yourselves with spiritual de-
lights, and this will make a happy diversion
from those that are sensual and earthly
Somewhat a man must have to delight in. I
is the philosopher's remark, that they tha
know not the true pleasure of the mind, turn
to the base pleasures of the body.
Some moral men seeking higher deligh
of the mind, in their way have persuade<
themselves to a generous disdain of thei
bodies. How much more powerfully ma}
supernatural delights of the soul — righteous
ness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghos
—wean it from those gross, sensual pleasures-
thai the beasts have in common with us, a
least from the immoderate desire, and all un
lawful pursuit of them ! — Nothing indigni
fies the soul more than lust. When Davi(
had sinned this way, it had so made havo
of grace within him, that he cries not onl
for cleansing, but for a new creation, as if a
were undone ; Create in me a clean hear:
&.c. Psal. li. 10 ; and found it so slavish an
ignoble a sin, that he prays to be re-establish
ed by God with a free or noble spirit.
4. Increase in the love of Christ ; for a
that grows, there is a decrease of the love <
sin, yea, of the immoderate love'of all inferi<
things : as the sunbeams eat out the fire, th
divine and heavenly love consumes the othe
All our love is too scarce or poor for him
when it is collected and drawn all togeth
to run only towards him ; and therefore the
is none to spare upon the flesh, and the Ju:
of it, nor upon any creature, but as he allow
and appoints. The sense of his love tak
up the whole soul, and he lodging in it,
that true Agnus castus that makes it chast
that bundle of myrrh that hath a virtue
preserve the Christian from the corruptio
of lust.
That love of Jesus Christ is strong as
ath, kills all oppbsite affections ; and, in.
ed, it alone is worthy of the soul, the noble,
nmortal soul. Oh ! how is it abased when
is drawn down to sensuality, and so made
slave to its servant, the flesh ! Major sum,
ad majora genitus, (could a Roman phi-
sopher say,) g'tam ut sim mancipium mei
•>rporis : I am greater, and born to greater
s, than to be a slave to my body. How
nworthy is it, that being capable of the
ighest good, the fruition of God, we should
rget ourselves so far as to serve vile lu.st,
nd forfeit the happiness and pleasures of
ernity ! Far be it from us. God hath
ailed us to holiness, and not to uncleanness,
ays the apostle.
Fly all unlawful and forbidden delights ;
nd those that are lawful, do not engage your
earts to them, love them not immoderately :
nd they can scarce be loved without excess,
loved at all. Shall I say, then, if you use
lem, yet love them not, reserve that for
urer enjoyments ? Says not the apostle
lis, Let them that rejoice, be as if they
ejoiced not : and particularly, They that
arry, as if they married not ! And his
eason is weighty — For the fashion of this
•or Id passe th away, &c
Remember to what a pure and excellent
ondition we are called as Christians, and
ith what a price we are bought to be holy ;
nd let it be our firm purpose and study to
"lorify God in our souls and bodies, for they
je his.
PRECEPT VIII.
Thou shall not steal.
God is the God of order, and not of con-
usion : it is he that hath authorized and ap-
>ointed propriety of possessions unto men,
and withal that society and commerce amongst
them that serves for their mutual good ; and
aroperty reserved makes one man in what he
possesses useful and helpful to another ; and
lath given this precept of his law, to regulate
them in these things, to be the rule of that
which we call cementation or justice, equity
towards our neighbour, in matter of his goods
or proper possessions.
This, then, being the scope of the com-
mandment, whatsoever breaks this hedge, is,
as comprehended under the name of theft,
bere forbidden. All manner of injustice and
wrong done to our neighbour in his estate,
whether by violence, or by sleight of hand,
by force or fraud, yea, if it be but so much
as in affection or desire : for (as we have often :
said) the law is spiritual, and binds not only
the hands but the heart.
So then, not only gross robberies and thefts
arc here forbidden, but all oppression an
492
AN EXPOSITION OF
extortion in superiors, all purloining and un-
faithfulness in inferiors ; too strict exaction in
masters, and slothfulness in servants, or
whatsoever else may tend to their masters'
damage ; all bribery and receiving of gifts, to
the perverting of justice ; all deceit and over-
reaching in commerce, or trading or bargain-
ing ; taking advantage in buying or selling,
or any contract, upon the ignorance or sim-
plicity of those we deal withal ; all desire
and seeking of our neighbour's loss to our
gain ; all the degrees of sacrilege and simony ;
all idleness and neglect in men's particular
callings, by which they either impoverish
themselves, and are worse than infidels, not
providing for their families ; or, if they have
certain provision by their callings, in ne-
glecting the duties of them, they wrong those
from whom, or for whose sakes, they are so
provided ; as magistrates and ministers, who
have or should have honourable maintenance
for the public service, the one in the com
mon-wealth, the other in the church. A;
it is a great sin to curtail or detain what is
due that way, so it is no less wickedness in
them, if they be remiss and careless of thos
duties to which they are obliged for the pub
lie good. In a word, whosoever can diges
any kind of undue gain to themselves, or d
any prejudice to their neighbour in the least
are guilty ; yea, they sin against this precep
that do n<»t with all their power further th
advantage and good of their neighbour i;
his outward condition, that do not help am
relieve those they see in want, so far as thei
ability reaches.
There is a kind of right that the poor hav
to supply ; it is not merely arbitrary to you
Though they have not such a right as t
take it at their own hand, or to seek it at th
houses of human justice, yet they have sue
a right as that your hand ought not to detai
it. " Withhold not good from them to whoi
it is due," Prov. iii. 27 ; which is evident!
meant (and interpreters take it so) of a
kind of doing good, even that of charity an
beneficence to the needy, as appears l>y tl
following clause, When it is i>i the powe
of thine hand to do it ,• and the Septuagin
luTcmv TOV tv^iv. It is due, they have a rig]
to it ; though not such as they can implea
for before men's courts or judicatures, yet i
the court of conscience, and in the sight
God, it is duly theirs ; the word is from hi
that is Lord of it. // is bread for the hungr
that moulds by thee, and the drink of tJ
thirsty that sours by thee.* Although tho
art in possession, hast superfluity by the
what he wants is his by right, he is Lord
it ; for the Lord of all hath turned over h
right to thy poor brother. The Lord him
self needs it not ; thy goodness cannot reac
him ; he hath furnished thee with such a
* Ksurientiura panis est qui apud te mucescit,
ciliemium potus qui apud te acescit. AMBROSE.
eed it, and may be his receivers, and have
arrant from him to take it np in his stead :
nd be sure he will acknowledge the receipt
' it ; thou hast his own word and writ for
a bill of exchange under his own hand,
lat what you give to the poor be put upon
is accounts. He that givelh to the poor,
ndeth to the Lord, and he will repay it.
.nd again, In that you did it unto one of
hese, says our Saviour, ye did it unto me.
t is the surest and most lasting part of a
nan's estate that is put into their hand, if
5od be solvendo, if he be a sufficient debtor.*
t is treasure laid up in heaven.
So then this precept requires uprightness
ind equity in all our dealings, a desire to
ight and advantage our brethren as ourselves,
villing their gain and prosperity as our own ;
diligence and industry in our callings, and
jiving to all others their due. Though men
are not obliged to a sottish simplicity, but
ought to endeavour so to understand their af-
?airs, that they may avoid circumvention by
others' craft ; yet a prudent simplicity is the
right stamp of a Christian mind ; to be single
and ingenuous, and rather to suffer loss from
others, than cause them any. In a word,
the apostle's rule is express and full, 1
Thess. iv. 16, That no man over-reach or
defraud his brother in any matter ; and he
adds a very forcible reason, because the Lord
is the avenger of all such ; as we have also,
(says he,) forewarned you and testified.
Men are ready to find out poor shifts to de-
ceive themselves, when they have some way
deceived their brother ; and to stop the mouth
of their own conscience with some quibble,
and some slight excuse, and force themselves
at length to believe they have done no wrong:
therefore the apostle, to fright them out of their
shifts, sets before them an exacter judge,
that cannot be deceived nor mocked, that
shall one day unveil the conscience, and
blow away these vain self-excuses as smoke;
and that just Lord will punish all injustice :
He is the avenger of all such.
At the first view, a man would think the
breach of this commandment concerns but
few persons, some thieves and robbers, and
some professed deceivers, or if you add some
cozening tradesmen and merchants ; but the
truth is, there is scarce any of the command,
merits so universally 'and frequently broken,
and whereof the breach is so little observed,
and therefore so seldom repented of by the
greatest part. As the apostle James says,
He is a perfect man that offends not in his
words ; truly he is a rare man that offends
not, and that remarkably, if men would re-
mark themselves, against this commandment,
Thou shall not steal.
To say nothing of the oppression and hard
exactions of such as are superiors of lands,
grinding the faces of the poor, and squeezing
* Quas dederis solas semper habebis opes.
THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
them till the blood come ; and so putting in
(he same blood of the poor amongst their
estates, that many times proves a canker to
all the rest ; and the thievishness of servants,
and of the poorer sort, making no conscience
at all of whatsoever they can filch from their
masters, or those that are richer than they,
counting all they can snatch good booty and
lawful prize : to pass by likewise the particu-
lar deceits that are usual in several callings,
and are incorporate with them through long
custom, and become a part of the mystery of
those callings, and therefore men dispense
with themselves in them, as the inseparable
sin of their calling, and have no remorse fjr
them : not to insist on these and such like,
consider how frequently this meum et tuum,
mine and thine, proves the apple of strife
betwixt the nearest friends, and divides their
affections, and begets debates amongst them ;
parents, and children, and brethren, &c.
And certainly there is always some unjust
desire on one side in those contentions, and
sometimes on both sides. How few are there
that have hearts so weaned from the world,
as in all things to prefer the smallest point of
equity to the greatest temptation of gain ;
that in their affairs, and all that concerns
them, are universally careful to deal with an
even hand and an even heart ; and to keep
elose to that golden rule drawn in nature, but
almost lost and smothered in the rubbish and
corruption of nature, but drawn anew by our
Saviour's hand, not only in his gospel, bat in
the hearts of his real followers — " That which
thou wouldesthave others do to thee, dothou
unto them :" that when they have any thing to
transact, wherein is their brother's interest and
their own, do in their thoughts change places
with him, set him in their own room, and them-
selves in his, and deal with him after that
manner ; that think, " What I should be
willing to have done to me were I he, thai
same will I do to him ! Were I in tha
poor man's condition that begs an alms,
should I not rather have some relief, than a
churlish, or at least, an empty answer? Were
I he that buys, should I not, and might
not justly and reasonably will to have it so
that no more be exacted of me than the rigli
and due price ? Then so will I use him.'
How few that walk (I say) by this rule
49S
icavenly Father is pressed ; and this is meant
y Homo homini Deus. Certainly, were we
acquainted with it, it is more true delight to
e not only just but liberal, than to possess
much ; it is not to possess, but to be pos.
sessed by it, to have heaps, and no heart noi
power to use them. He that is thus, doth nol
only defraud others but himself, steals" from
lis own necessities to sacrifice to his god,
iis chest or bag. When a man hath such a
sum, and though he hath use for it, dares not
break it, what is it better than if it were still
under ground in the mine ? It is no more
at his service ; yea, so much the worse that
le is racked betwixt plenty and want, betwixt
laving and not having it.
Both the covetous and the prodigal sin
against this commandment ; the covetous by
unjust ways of gaining, and unjust keeping
what he hath gained, keeping it up both from
others and himself; and the prodigal by
profuseness, making foolish wants to himself,
that drive him upon unjust ways of supply. -f-
Thus he that is prodigal must be covetous
too ; and though men think not so, these two
vices that seem so opposite, not only may,
but do often dwell together, and covetous-
ness is prodigality's purveyor, being fire for
it to feed it ; for otherwise it would not sub-
sist, but would starve within a while. Here,
then, both avarice and prodigality are con-
demned ; only true equity, and frugal and
wise liberality, are obedience to it.
The main causes of all unjust and ilibcral
dealing are these two: 1. diffidence or dis-
trust of the Divine providence and goodness ;
2. and that
-Z.a, that same amor sce-
leratus habendi, — the fond desire of having
much.
1. When a man doth not fully trust God
with providing for him, and blessing him in
just and lawful ways, but apprehends want
unless he take some liberty and elbow-room ;
this makes him step now and then out of the
way, to catch at undue gain by fraud and
over-reaching, or some such way ; but this
is a most foolish course ; this is to break
loose out of God's fa'herly hand, and so to
forego all that we can look for from him, and
to take ways of our own ; to choose rather to
go a-shifting for ourselves in the crooked and
accursed ways of unrighteousness, than to be
And yet all that do not thus', are breakers of, at his providing. Labour, therefore, toi
this commandment in the sight of God. I fixed belief of his wisdom and goodness and
How few that are inviolable observers of, all-sufficiency, ;.nd then the greatest straits
equity, and are truly liberal and bountiful, | and wants will not drive you to any indirect
answerably to their power; that will some- j ways, wherein you run from him, but will
times on purpose bate a dish from their table, ! still draw you nearer to himself, and than
or a lace from their garment, not to make jjou will stay and wait upon his hand till he
their stock greater, but to bestow on the ' supply you.
poor; that are truly desirous of the good: 2. Desire of havmg much, or covetous,
and prosperity of others, and further it all ness, whether it be to hoard up or lavish out.
they can ! But this is a madness » tlus desire of having
It is to be like God ; this is the parties- 1 » Quicquid omnibus abstulit, sibi negat.
lar. Matt, v- 45, wherein likeness to ouri » Turpiteramlttensouod tuipius reparet. SENECA.
494
AN EXPOSITION OF
much is never cured by having much ; it is
in unsalable,* dog-hunger.
That known determination of the moralist
was the most true, that to be truly rich, is
not to have much, bat to desire little ; labour
then, not to desire much, or rather desire
much — desire to have the Lord for your
portion ;f and if you indeed desire him, you
shall have him, and if you have him, you
cannot but be satisfied, for he is all : to him
therefore be all praise, honour, and glory, for
ever. Amen.
PRECEPT IX.
Thou shall not bear false witness against
thy neighbour.
THE apostle St. James, in that sharp but
most true censure of the tongue, might well
call it an unruly evil. There are but ten
precepts or words of the law of God, and
you see two of them, so far as concerns the
outward organ and vent of the sins there
forbidden, are bestowed on it, tending, if
not only, yet mainly, to keep it in order ;
one in the first table, and this other in the
second, as being ready to fly out both against
God and man, if not thus bridled.
The end of the commandment is to guard
the good name of men from injury, as the
former doth his goods ; this possession being
no less, yea, much more precious than the
other ; and, because the great robber and
murderer of a good name, is the mischievous
detracting tongue, acted by a malignant heart,
it requires in the heart a charitable tender-
ness of the good name of our brethren, and
that will certainly prove truth and charitable
speech in the tongue.
Though divines here usually speak o)
lying, in the general notion and extent of it,
and not amiss, being most of all exercised in
the kind here mentioned ; yet there be such
lies as may be more fitly reputed a breach of
some other commandment ; and possibly,
the sin of lying in general, as it is a lie, a
discrepance of the speech from the mind, anil
so a subverting of the divine ordinance set in
nature, making that which he hath made the
interpreter of the mind, to be the dbguiser
of it,, and withal, disregarding God as
the searcher of the heart, and sovereign
witness of truth, and avenger of falsehood ; I
say, thus it may possibly be more proper to
refer it to another commandment, particularly
to the third : but it imports not mucli to be
very punctual in this ; it is seldom or nevej
that one commandment is broken alone ;
most sins are complicate disobedience, and
in some sins, the breach of many at once is
very apparent. As to instance in perjury, if
* BeuX/^jst, vel canitia fti'nef.
f Non est iUud clesiderium, T>.(OH&« st-il xnaib/r.
it be to testify a falsehood against our bre-
thren, both the third commandment and this
ninth are violated at once ; and if it be in
such a thing as toucheth his life, the sixth
likewise suffers with them.
This perjury of false testimony in a public
judiciary way, is, we see, by the express words
and letter of the command, forbidden as the
highest and most heinous wrong of this kind;*
but under the name of this (as it is in the
other commandments) all the other kinds
and degrees of offence against our neighbour's
good name are comprised. 1. All private
ways of calumny and false imputation. 2.
All ungrounded and false surmises or suspi-
cions, all uncharitable construction of others*
actions and carriage. 3. Strict remarking
of the faults of others, without any calling so
to do, or honest intention of their good ;
which appears, if having observed any thing
that of truth is reprovable, we seek not to
reclaim them by secret and friendly admoni-
tion, but, passing by themselves, divulge it
abroad to others ; for this is a foolish, self-
deceit to think, that because it is not forged,
but true, that' thou speakest, this keeps thee
free of the commandment : no, thy false in-
tention and malice-f- makes it calumny and
falsehood in thee, although for the matter of
it, what thou sayest be most true ; all thou
gainest by it is, that thou dost humble and
bemire thyself in the sin of another, and
makest it possibly more thine, than it is his
own that committed it ; for he, may be, hath
some touch of* remorse for it ; whereas it i?
evident thou delightest iu it; and though
thou preface it with a whining, feigned re-
gret and semblance of pitying him, and add
withal some word of commending him in
somewhat else ; this is but the gilding and
sugaring the pill to make men swallow it
the more easily, and thy bitter malice pass
unperceived. They that by their calling
ought to watch over the lives of others, must
do it faithfully and diligently, admonishing
and rebuking privately ; and where that pr,e-
vails not, they may, yea, they ought to do
it more publicly, but all in love, seeking
nothing but the glory of God and the salva-
tion of souls. 4. Easy hearing and enter-
taining of misreports and detraction when
others speak them, (Exod. xxiii. 1,) this is
that which maintains and gives subsistence
to calumny, otherwise it would starve and
die of itself, if nobody took it in and gave
it lodging. When malice pours it out, if
our ears be shut against it, and there be no
vessel to receive it, it would fall like water
upon the ground, and could no more be ga-
thered up ; but there is that same busy hu-
mour that men have, (it is very busy, and
yet the most have of it more or less,) a kind
* Ut testis falsi aut testimonium falsi non dices aut
respomlL'bis.
t A.K-',UW<»T:{ £> KyoLrr,, Eph. iv. 15: We roust not
only speak the truth, but in love.
THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
495
of delight or contentment to hear evil of others,
unless it be of such as they affect ; to hear
others slighted and disesteemed, that they
readily drink in, not without some pleasure,
whatsoever is spoken of this kind. The ear
trieth the words, (as he says in Job,) a* the
mouth tastelh meats ; but certainly the most
ears are perverse and distempered in* their
taste, as some kind of palates are ; can find
sweetness in sour calumny. But, because
men understand one another's diet in this,
that the most are so ; this is the very thing
that keeps up the trade, makes backbiting
and detractions abound so in the world, and
verities that observation in the most, that the
slanderer wounds three at once, himself, him
he speaks of, and him that hears ; for this
third, truly it is in his option to be none of the
number ; if he will, he may shifc his part of
the blow, by not believing the slander ; yea,
may beat it back again with ease upon the
slanderer himself by a check or frown, and
add that stroke of a repulse to the wound of
guiltiness he gives himself. 5. They offend
that seek in any kind, at the expense of the
good name and esteem of others, to increase
their own ; out of others' ruins to make up
themselves ;* and therefore pull down as
much as they can, and are glad to have
others to help them to detract from the repute
of their brethren, particularly any that are in
likelihood to surpass and obscure them ; and
for this reason, incline always rather to hear
and speak of the imperfections and dispraise
of others than to their advantage, and would
i willingly (Ottoman-like) kill the good name
I of their brethren that theirs may reign alone. •{•
I This is a vile disease, and such as cannot be
i incident to any mind that is truly virtuous
and gracious ; no, such need not this base,
dishonest way to raise themselves, but are
jlad to see virtue, and whatsoever is praise-
worthy, to flourish in whomsoever ; these
are lovers of God indeed, and his glory, and
not their own ; and therefore, as all he be-
ttfws on themselves, they venture back the
lonour of it to him, so they are glad to see
many enriched with his best gifts ; for see-
rig all good that all have belongs to God, as
the sovereign owner and dispenser, this con
tents and rejoices his children when they see
many partake of his bounty, for the more is
lis glory ; and as in love to their brethren,
they are always willing to take notice of what
;s commendable in them, and to commend
it, so they do this the more willingly, be-
cause they know that all praise of goodness
at last terminates and ends in God, as Solo-
mon says of the rivers, Unto the place from
Kx alien! nominis jactura graelum sibi faciunt ad
gloriam. SALLI.'ST.
t The Rabbins frequently condemn this. Hammith
Cabbed. v\c. Qui honorat se ex ignominia socii sui,
Don habet pattern in seculo venluro. Beres. Hab.
Item, qui per contemptum aliorum laudem suam quse-
i:t, miserrimus tst omnium. Quisest honore dignus ?
Qui honcrat alios homines. Aboth. C. iv.
whence they come, thither they return again.
C. They sin against this commandment, who,
although they no way wrong their neighbours'
good name, yet are not careful to do their
utmost to right it when it suffers, to remove
aspersions from them, and to clear them all
that may be.
For this is here required — to desire and
delight in, and furthei the good name of
others, even as our own ; to look most will,
ingly on the fairest side of their actions, and
take them in the best sense, and be as in-
ventive of favourable constructions (yet with-
out favouring vice) as malice is witty to mis-
interpret to the worst ; to observe the com-
mendable virtues of our brethren, and pass
by their failings ; as many, like scurvy flies,
skip over what -is sound in men, and love to
sit upon their sores.
It is lamentable to consider how much
this evil of mutual detraction, and supplant-
ing the good name one of another, is rooted
in man's corrupt nature, and how it spreads
and grows in their converse, as the apostle
St. Paul cites it out of the Psalmist, as the
description of our nature, Their throat is an
open sepulchre; they have deceitful tongues,
and the poison of asps is under their lips,
Rom. iii. 13. Their throat is an open se-
pulchre, full of the bones as it were of others'
good names that they have devoured ; and,
Rom. i. 30, amongst other their endowments,
they are whisperers, backbiters, despiteful.
Bnt it is strange that Christians should re-
tain so much of these evils, that profess them-
selves renewed, and sanctified, and guided
by the Spirit of God. Consider in your
visits and discourses, if something of this
kind doth not entertain you often, and lavish
away that time you might spend in mutual
edifications, abusing it to descant upon the
actions and life of others, in such a way as
neither concerns nor profits us, taking an im-
pertinent, foolish delight in inquiring and
knowing how this party lives, and the other.*
This is a very common disease, as Nazianzen
observes ; and thus men are most strangers
at home ; have not leisure to study and know
and censure themselves, they are so busied
about others. It may be there is not always
a height of malice in their discourses, but
yet, by much babbling to no purpose, they
slide into idle detraction and censure of
others beside their intention ; for, in multi-
tude of words there wants not gin.
And the greatest part are so accustomed
to this way, that if they be put out of it, they
must sit dumb and say nothing. There is,
I confess, a prudent observation of the ac-
tions of others, a reading of men, as they
call it, and it may be by a Christian done
with Christian prudence and benefit ; and
496
AN EXPOSITION OF
there may be too an useful way of men's irn-j The Romish division of this into two, is
part'ng their observation of this kind one to so grossly absurd, and so contrary both to
another concerning the good and evil, the the voice of antiquity and reason, that it
abilities more or less that they remark in the needs not stay us much to shew it such,
world ; but truly it is hard to find such as The thing forbidden is one, Thou shall not
can do' this aright, and know they agree in1 covet ,• and if the several things not to be
their purpose with honest, harmless minds, coveted divide it, it will be five or six, as
intending evil to none, but good to them-
selves, and admitting of nothing but what
suits with this. Amongst a throng of ac-
quaintance a man shall, it may be, find very
few by whose conversation he may be really
bettered, and that return him some benefit
for the expense of his time in their society.
Howsoever, beware of such as delight in
vanity and lying, and defaming of others,
and withdraw yourselves from them, and set
a watch before your own lips ; learn to know
the fit season of silence and speech, for that
is a very great point of wisdom, and will
help very much to the observing this precept,
to give your tongue to be governed by wis-
dom and piety ; let it not be as a thorny bush,
pricking and hurting those that are about
you, not altogether a barren tree, yielding
nothing, but a fruitful tree, a tree of life to
your neighbour, as Solomon calls the tongue
of the righteous.
And let your hearts be possessed with
those two excellent graces, humility and
charity, then will your tongue not be in dan-
ger of hurting your neighbour ; for it is pride
and self-love makes men delight in that.
Those are the idols to which men make sa-
crifice of the good name and reputation of
others. The humble man delights in self-
disesteem, and is glad to see his brethren's
name flourish. It is pleasing music to him
to hear of the virtues of others acknowledged
and commended, and a harsh discord to his
lowly thoughts to hear any thing of his own.
And the other, charity, thinks no evil, is
so far from casting false aspersions on any,
that it rather casts a veil upon true failings
and blemishes: Love covers a multitude
of sins ; it is like God's love that begets
it, which covers all the sins of his own chil-
dren.
PRECEPT X.
Thou shall not covet, &c.
IT is a known truth, that there is no soundt
cure of diseases without the removal of their
inward cause ; therefore this second table of
the law, containing the rule of equity for the
redress of unrighteousness in men's dealing
one with another, doth in this last precept
of it strike at the very root of that unrighte-
ousness, the corrupt desires and evil con-
cupiscence of the heart :
eovet, &c.
Thou shall not
well as two. Though it be Peter's pretend-
ed sword makes the division, yet certainly
it is not Paul's
not a dividing of
the word aright, but cutting it, as it were,
beside the joint. The truth is, they would
never have mistook so far as to have offered
at this division, were they not driven upon it
by an evil necessity of their own making ;
because they have quite cut out the second,
they are forced, for making up the number,
to cut this in two. This is but to salve a
first wrong with a second, it is vititum primes
concoclionisquodnon corrigitur in secunda,
as they speak ; having smothered one com-
mandment, they would have this divided, as
the harlot the living child. The subject of
this commandment, that which it forbids,
is not, I confess, original sin in its nature
and whole latitude ; no, nor all kind of sin-
ful motions immediately arising from it, but
such as concern human things, belonging
to this second table as their rule ; as is clea*
in all the particulars named in the command.
ment, and the general word that closes it in,
eluding the rest, and all other things of tha*
kind — Nor any thing that is thy neigh-
bour 's : Nor is it needful (with others) for
the distinguishing this precept from the rest,
to call this concupiscence here forbidden,
only the first risings of it in the heart, with.
out consent, whereas the other command*
ments forbids the consent of the will. I con-
ceive there is no danger to say, that both
are forbidden, both in this and the rest, but
in this more expressly.
For what great necessity is there of such
subth distinguishing ? May not this be
sufficient, that what is included in the other
commandments duly understood, it pleased
the Divine Wisdom to deliver in this last
more expressly, that none might pretend ig-
norance, and so to provide for the more ex-
act observance of justice and equity amongst
men in their actions, by a particular law
given to the heart, the fountain of them, re-
gulating it in its disposition and motions,
even the very stirrings of it, which do most
discover its disposition ?
And that this is no tautology, nor a su-
perfluous labour, unsuiting the exquisite bre-
vity of this law, we shall easily confess, if
we consider that natural hypocrisy and self-
indulgence that is in men, that makes them
still less' regard the temper and actings of
their hearts, than their outward carriage,
notwithstanding this express commandment
concerning it. How much more would
they have thought their thoughts, at least
THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
497
such as proceed not to full consents, ex-
empted from the law, if there had been
nothing spoken of them, but they only in-
cluded in the other precepts. We know how
the doctors of Rome extenuate the matter,
and how favourable their opinion is in this
point, notwithstanding this clear voice of the
law of God condemning all concupiscence.
The apostle St. Paul confesses ingenuously
his own short-sightedness, though a Phari-
see instructed in the law, that unless the
law had said, Thou shall not lust, Rom.
vii. 7i he had not found it out in the other
commandments, nor known the sinfulness
of it.
This all-wise Lawgiver knew both the
blindness of man's mind, and the hypocrisy
and deceitfulness of his heart, and therefore
takes away all pretext, and turns him out of
all excuse, giving this last commandment
expressly concerning the heart, and so teach-
ing him the exact and spiritual nature of all
the rest.
This commandment pursues the iniquity
of man into its beginning and source. Our
Saviour calls the evil heart, an evil treasure :
it is an inexhaustible treasure of evil, yea it
diminisheth not at all, but increased! rather
by spending ; the acting of sin, confirmin
and augmenting the corrupt habit of it in
the heart. " Out of this evil treasure issue
forth those pollutions that defile the whole
man — evil thoughts, murders, adulteries,"
&c. Matt. xv. 19.
It is not proper here to speak at large oi
the first motions of sin in general, and ol
the way to distinguish (if any such can be
given as certain) the injections of Satan ; evil
thoughts darted in by him, and such as
spring immediately from that corruption tha
concern the subject : only this we ought to
observe, as pertinent and useful, that if we
did consider the purity of the law of God
and the impurity of our own hearts, the con-
tinual rising of sinful concupiscences within
us, that stain us and all our actions, this
would lay us a great deal lower in our own
opinion than usually we are : " The law is
spiritual, but I am carnal, sold under sin,'
says the Apostle.
Men think it is well with them, and the)
please themselves to think so, and glory in
it, that their whole life hath been outwardly
unblameable, and, possibly, free from th
secret commission of gross sins : but they tha
are thus most spotless should look a littl
deeper inward upon the incessant working
of vain, sinful thoughts, that at least toucl
upon the affection, and stir it somewhat
and consider their hearts naturally lik
boiling pots, still sending up of this scum
of evil concupiscence, and as a fountain
casteth forth her waters, as Jeremiah speaks,
this bitter poison-spring still streaming forth,
and even iu the best not fully dried up
There are three transgressions, say the
Talmudists, from which a man can no
ay ever in this life be free ; the thoughts
f sin, wanderings in prayer, and an evil
ongue.
Certainly the due sight of these would
ibate much of those gay thoughts that any
an have of themselves, and from the best
and most sensible would draw out the apos-
le's word, O wretched man that I am !
'•Vho shall deliver me ? &c. Rom. vii. 24.
There is nothing that doth more certainly
>oth humble and grieve the godly man, than
he sense of this ; and because till then it
vill not cease to vex him, nothing makes
lim more long for the day of his full deliver,
ance, and makes him cry, Usquequo? Do-
mine, usquequo ? O how long ? O Lord,
how long ?
2. We are taught by this commandment
hat great point of spiritual prudence, to ob-
serve the beginnings and conception of sin
within us, and to crush it then when it is
weakest, before it pass on in its usual grada-
ion, as the apostle St James makes it, James
. 14, 15. If it draw us away but to hear
t, it will entice us, take us with delight,
and then it will by that work us to con-
sent, and having so conceived, it will bring
brth sin, and sin finished will bring forth
death.
3. Because (as we see) the very concupis-
cence itself, though it proceed no further,
pollutes and leaves a stain behind it : this
calls for our diligence, to seek that renova-
tion and habitual purity of heart infused from
above, and the daily increase of it, being
begun, that may free us more and more from
that depraved concupiscence and the defile-
ments of it. Think it not enough to cleanse
the tongue and the hands, but, above all,
endeavour for cleanness of heart, and that
will keep all the rest clean. James iv. 8 ;
Jer. iv. 14.
The concupiscence particularly here for-
bidden, we see, is an inordinate desire, or
the least beginning of ^ach a desire of those
outward things that belong not to us — Thy
neighbour's house, &c. ; for all breach of the
other commandments of this second table
have their rise and beginning from such de-
sire ; therefore this is set last, as the hedge
to guard all the rest from violation : for cer-
tainly he that flies the least motion of a
wrongful thought, will never proceed to any
injurious word or action. So, then, this
commandment is broken by the least envious
look upon any good of others, or the least
bindings of mind after it for ourselves, and
by that common mischief of self-love, as the
» Tres sunt transgressiones, a quibus homo nullo
die, inquiunt Talmudici, nunquam in hac vita Hbe-
rabitur : cogitationes ceccati, attentio orationis; (i. e.
quod nunquam satis attento per omnem attention-
em orarepossit;) et lingua mala. DATA. UOSCA. t
1342. 2 I
498
AN EXPOSITION, &c.
very thing that gives life to all such undue
desires, and by that common folly of discon-
tent at our own estate, which begets a wish-
ing for that of others ; aud this, though it
be not joined with an express desire of their
loss or hurt, yet because it is the seed and
principle of injustice, therefore it is sinful,
and here forbidden.
And, on the contrary, much of the observ-
ance of this precept lies in that aui-a^Ktia,
that contentedness and satisfaction of mind
with our own estate, which will surely keep
us free from this disordered coveting. There-
fore primely labour to have that wise and
sweet contentation dwelling within you, and
banish all contrary thoughts, by these and
other such-like considerations.
1. If you do indeed believe that it is the
sovereign hand of God that divides to the
nations their inheritance, as Moses speaks,
Deut. xxxii. 8, and so likewise to particular
men, that he carves to every one their condi-
tion and place in the world, you cannot but
think he hath done it more wisely than men
could do for themselves. They could never
agree upon it ; every man would think it
best for himself to be in the best and highest
condition, and that is not possible ; but it is
best for the making up of the universe, that
there be those differences God hath made,
and from the highest to the lowest he hath
it is true in matter of estate, as of our gar-
ments, not that which is largest, but that
which fits us best, is best for us.
3. Consider that no outward condition
hath contentment in it of itself; this must
arise from somewhat within. Men see the
great attendance and train of servants that
wait upon princes and other great persons,
but they see not the train of cares and per-
plexing thoughts that many times go along
too, and are more inseparable attendants than
any of the rest : they see their fine clothes
and stately buildings, but they see not the
secret malcontents and vexations that dwell
with them, and are the very linings of their
rich apparel. Light things often discontent
them : look but on their very pastimes and
recreations ; they are sometimes as much
troubled with disappointment in those, as the
poor man is wearied with his labour. It was
not a much greater cross that vexed Hainan ;
all his advancement availed not without Mor-
decai's courtesy : a strange disease, that he
felt more the pain of another man's stiff knee,
than the contentment of all his honours. But
whoso knew their deeper vexations would ad-
mire them less, when crossed in their ambi-
tion or frtends, or the husband and wife not
finding that harmony of dispositions and af-
fections : few or none but have something
that a man would willingly leave out, if he
set each one in that station he thought good. J were, for his wish, to be in their condition.
There is not a common soldier in an army
but would wish to be a commander, and so
if each might have his will, all would com-
mand and none obey. The like holds in
masters and servants, and in all such other
differences. So, then, seeing those differ-
ences are in the world, and seeing it wholly
belongs to Him that rules the world to dis-
pose of them, our part is no more but con-
tentedly to accept of his disposal, and
to serve him in the station where he hath
set us.
2. If you be such as have evidence you
are the children of God, then you know he
doth not only allot your condition wisely, but
withal in peculiar love and favour ; he per-
fectly knows what outward estate is particu-
larly fittest for you, and will conduce most
to your highest good, and will not miss to
give you that and no other. And certainly
The shorter and surer way, then, to content-
ment is, to be contentedly what he is.
4. Consider those that are below you, and
in a far meaner condition, and by that argue
yourself not only to contentment, but to
thankfulness. We pervert all : when we look
below us, it raises our pride ; and when above
us, it casts us into discontent : might we not
as well contrariwise draw humility out of the
one, and contentment out of the other ?
5. Seek to be assured that God is yours ;
then whatsoever others possess, you will be
sure not to covet it, nor envy them. Those
that have most, you will pity, if they want
him ; and those that have him, you will have
no envy at them for sharing with you, but
love them the more : for that Infinite Good
is enough for all that choose him, and none
do so but those whom he hath first chosen in
eternal love.
DISCOURSE
MATTHEW xxii. 37 — 39.
Jesus said unto him, Thou shall love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with
all thy soul, and with all thy mind ; and thy neighbour as thyself.
1 HE wisdom and meekness of our Saviour
is the more remarkable, and shines the
brighter, by the malice of his adversaries ;
and their cavils and tempting questions oc-
casion our benefit ano^ instruction : Thus
here.
We see the words are the sum of the whole
law, and they are taken out of the book of
the law : they are called two commandments ;
the former is the sum of the first, the latter
of the second table. Thou shall love the
Lord thy God, &c. That is, says our Sa-
viour, the first and great commandment.
Our first obligement is to God, and, through
him and for his sake, to men : The second
like to !.'.
Seems it not rather contrary than like to
the former ? Whereas in the former, the whole
stream of love is directed in one undivided
current towards God, this other command-
ment seems to cut up a new channel for it,
and to turn a great part of it to men — Thy
neighbour as thyself. No, they are not con-
trary, if we take them right ; yea, they do
not only agree, but are inseparable ; they do
not divide our love, but they set it in its right
course ; first wholly to God, as the sovereign
good, and only for himself worthy to be loved,
and then back from him it is, according to
his own will, derived downwards to our neigh-
bour ; for then only we love both ourselves
and others aright, when we make our love
to him the reason and the rule of both.* So,
then, our love is to be immediately divided
betwixt him and our neighbour, or any crea-
ture, but is first all to be bestowed on him,
and then he diffuses, by way of reflection, so
much of it upon others as he thinks fit ; being
* Minus enim tc ainat, qui aliquid praeter te amat.
ct non propter te. Incipiat home amare Deum, el
non amabit in homine nisi Deum. AUGUSTINE.
all in his hands, it is at his disposal, and that
which he disposes elsewhere as here, ( Thou
shall love thy neighbour as thyself,) it is
not taken off" from him, but abiding still in
lim, as in its natural place : as light doth in
he sun, flows forth from him by such an
emanation as divides it not ; as beams flow
brth from the sun and enlighten the air, and
ret are not cut off from it.
So, then, the second is like unto the first,
>ecause it springs from it, and depends on
t ; it commands the same affection : love in
:he former placed on God, and in this ex-
tended from him to our neighbour. And
ike in this too, that as the former is the sum
of the first table, and so the first and great
commandment ; so this is the sum of the
second table, and therefore next unto it in
greatness and importance.
All the precepts that can be found in the
law and prophets are reducible to these, and
all obedience, depends upon this love. 1.
Consider this, how those are the sum of this
law. 2. Particularly in themselves.
Not only because it is love facilitates all
obedience, and is the true principle of it, that
makes it both easy to us, and acceptable to
God ; but besides this, that love disposes the
soul for all kind of obedience, this very act
of love is in effect all that is commanded in
the law. For the first laid to the first table,
it is so much one with the first command,
ment, that it expresses most fitly the positive
of it, opposite to that which is there forbidden
— " Thou shall have no other Gods before
me, but thou shalt have me alone for thy
God, or bestow all divine affection, and all
worship that is the sign and expression of it,
upon me only : Thou shalt love the Lord
thy God with all thy heart, &c. And if
thou lovest me alone, thou wilt not decline
600
A DICOUESE ON
to any kind of false worship, that were to
vitiate thy affection, and to break that con-
jugal love and fidelity to which thou art
bound by covenant, being my people as by a
spiritual marriage." Therefore is idolatry
so frequently called, in the phrase of the
prophets, Adultery and uncleanness : and ?n
the letter of that commandment, the Lord
uses that word, which in its usual sense is
conjugal, and relates to marriage, I am a
jealous God ; and in the close of that pre-
cept expresseth particularly this affection of
love, as particularly interested in it, though
extended to all the rest — I shew mercy to
thousands of them that love me.
Is it not a genuine property of love to ho-
nour and respect the name of those whom
we love ? and therefore it is altogether incon-
sistent with the love of God to vilify and
abuse his name.
They that understand the true use of
that holy rest of the sabbath-day, to know
that it frees the soul, and makes it vacant
from earthly things for this purpose, that it
may fully apply itself to the worship and
contemplation of God, and converse with him
at greater length. Then certainly, where
there is this entire love to God, this will not
weigh heavy, will be no grievous task to it ;
it will embrace and gladly obey this com-
mandment, not only as its duty, but as its
great delight ; for there is nothing that love
rejoices in more than in the converse and
society of those on whom it is placed, would
willingly bestow most of its time that way,
and thinks all hours too short that are spent
in that society. Therefore not only they that
profanely break, but they that keep it heavily
and wearily, that find it rather a burden than
a delight, may justly suspect that the love of
God is not in them ; but he that keeps His
day cheerfully, and loves it, because on it he
may more liberally solace and refresh himself
in God, may safely take it as an evidence of
his love to God.
Now, that after the same manner the love
of our neighbour is the sum of the second
table, the apostle St. Paul proves for us clear-
ly and briefly, Rom. xiii. 9, 10. All the
commandments touching our neighbour are
for guiding him from evil and injury. Now,
Love worketh no ill to his neighbour, there-
fore it is the fulfilling of the law. He that
truly loves his neighbour as himself, will" be
as loth to wrong him as to wrong himself,
Cither in that honour and respect that is due
to him, or in his life or chastity, or goods or
good name, or to lodge so much as an unjust
desire and thought, because that is the begin,
ning and conception of real injury. In a
word, the great disorder and crookedness of
the corrupt heart of man, consists in self-love ;
it is the very root of all sin both against God
and man ; for no man commits any offence,
but it is some way to profit or please himself.
It was an high enormity of self-love that
brought forth the very first sin of mankind ;
that was the bait that took more than either
the colour or taste of the apple, that it was
desireable for knowledge ; it was in that the
main strength of the temptation lay, Ye shall
be as gods knowing good and evil. And
was it not deep self-love to affect that ? And
it is still thus, though we feel the miser-
able fruits of that tree : the same self-love
possesses us still, that to please our own hu-
mour and lusts, our pride or covetousness, or
voluptuousness, we break the law of God,
the law of piety, and of equity and charity
to men. Therefore the apostle, foretelling
the iniquities and impieties of the last times,
that men shall be " covetous, boasters, &c.,
and lovers of pleasuies more than lovers of
God," sets that on the front, as the chief,
leading evil, and the source of all the rest —
lovers of their ownselves : lovers of themselves,
therefore covetous ; and lovers of themselves
more than lovers of God, because lovers of
their ownselves, 2 Tim. iii. 2. Therefore
this is the sum of that which God requires in
his holy law, the reforming of our love, which
is the commanding passion of the soul, and
wheels all the rest about with it in good or
evil.
And its reformation is in this, recalling it
from ourselves unto God, and reflecting it
from God to our brethren ; loving ourselves
sovereignly by corrupt nature, we are ene-
mies to God, and haters of him, and cannot
love our neighbours but only in reference to
ourselves, and so far as it profits or pleaseth
us to do so, and not in order and respect
unto God : the highest and true redress of
this disorder, is that which we have here in
two precepts as the substance of all ; first,
that all our love ascend to God, and then
what is due to men descend from thence,
and so passing that way, it is purified and
refined, and is subordinate and conformed to
our love of him above all, which is the first
and great commandment.
Here we have the supreme object of love,
to whom it is due, the Lord thy God, and
the measure of it, which is indeed to know
no measure,* with all thy heart, all thy soul,
and all thy mind ; for which in Deut. vi. 5,
thy strength ; Luke hath both : the difference
is none, for all mean that the soul, and all the
powers of it, unite and combine themselves
in their most intense and highest strength to
the love of God, and that all the workings
of the soul, and actions of the whole man, be
no other but the acting and exercise of this
love.
He accounts nor accepts of nothing we
can offer him, if we give not the heart with
it ;. and he will have none of that neither,
unless he have it all ; and it is a poor all when
* Modus est nescire modum, subtilius ista distin-
guere facile est magis quam solid urn.
MATTHEW XX II.
501
•we have given it, for the great God to accept '
of. If one of us had the affection of a him- 1
dred, yea, of all the men in the world, yet j
could he not love God answerably to his-
full worth and goodness ; all the glorified
spirits, angels and men, that are or shall
be in their perfections, loving him with the
utmost extent of their souls, do not altogether
make up so much love as he deserves ; yet
he is pleased to require our heart, and the
love we have to bestow on him ; and though
it is infinitely due of debt, yet he will take it
as a gift — My son, give me thy heart.
Therefore the soul that begins to offer it-
self to him, although overwhelmed with the
sense of its own unworthiness and the mean-
ness of its love, yet may say, " Lord,' I am
ashamed of this gift I bring thee ; yet, be-
cause thou callest for it, such as it is, here it
is ; the heart and all the love I have, I offer
unto thee ; and had I ten thousand times
more, it should all be thine ; as much as I
can I love thee, and I desire to be able to
love thee more ; although I am unworthy to
be admitted to love, yet thou art most worthy
to be loved by me, and, besides, thou dost
allow, yea commandest me to love thee ; my
loving of thee adds nothing to thee, but it
makes me happy ; and though it be true,
the love and heart I offer thee, is infinitely
too little for thee, yet there is nothing besides
thee enough for it."
The Lord, or Jehovah, thy God. There
lie the two great reasons of love, T« aynf/i-rm,
and TO <S/«», Jehovah, the spring of being
and goodness, infinitely lovely. All the
beauty and excellencies of the creatures are
but a drop of that ocean. And thy God, to
all of us the author of our life, and of all
that we enjoy, that spread forth those heavens
that roll about us, and comfort us with their
light and motions and influences, and esta-
blished this earth that sustains us ; that fur-
nisheth us with food and raiment, and, in a
word, (and it is the apostle's,) that gives
US, '(.tar,i X.KI -r*or,t x&i TU Ta,*ra. Life,
and breath, and all things ; and to the be-
liever, his God in a nearer propriety, by re-
demption and peculiar covenant. But our
misery is, the most of us do not study and
cousider him, what he is in himself and to
us, and therefore do not love him, because we
know him not.
And thy neighbour as thyself. If we will
not confess nor suspect ourselves, how much
we are wanting in the former, yet our mani-
fest defect in this will discover it ; therefore
the apostle, Rom. xiii. 10, and Gal. v. 14,
speaks of this as all, because, though inferior
to the other, yet connected with it, and the
surest sign of it ; for these live and die to-
gether. The apostle St. John is express in
it, and gives those hypocrites the lie plainly.
// any man say, I love God, and hateth
his brother, he is a liar, &c. We have no
real way of expressing our love to God, but
in our converse with men, and in the works
of love towards them.
Certainly that sweet affection of love to
God cannot consist with malice and bitter-
ness of spirt against our brethren. No, it
sweetens and calms the soul, and makes it all
love every way.
As thyself. As truly both wishing, and,
to thy power, procuring his good, as thy own.
Consider how much unwilling I'hou art to be
injured or defamed, and have the same
thoughts for thy brother ; be as tender for
him. But how few of us aspire to this de-
gree of charity !
Thy very enemies are not here excluded.
If self-love be still predominant in thee, in-
stead of the love of God, then thou wilt make
thine own interest the rule of thy love ; so
when thou art, or conceivest thou art wrong-
ed by any, the reason of thy love ceaseth ;
but if thou love for God, that reason abides
still :* '' God hath commanded me to love
my enemies, and he gives me his example ;
he does good to the wicked that offend him."
And this is indeed a trial of our love to
God : one hath marred thee ; that gives
thee to think that thou hast no cause to love
him for thyself : be it so ; self-love forbids
thee, but the love of God commands thee to
love him. God says, " If thou lovest me,
love him for my sake." And if thy love to
God be sincere, thou wilt be glad of the oc-
casion to give so good a testimony of it, and
find a pleasure in that which others account
so difficult and painful.
* Amicus diligendus in Deo, et Inimicus proptei
Deum. AUGUSTINE.
DISCOURSE
HEBREWS viii. 10.
for this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, saith
the Lord ; I will put my laws into their mind, and write them in their hearts } and 1
will be to them a God, and they shall be to me a people.
JLHE two great evils that perplex sensible
minds, are the guiltiness of sin and the power
of it ; therefore this new covenant hath in it
two promises opposite to these two evils, free
pardon to remove the guilt of sin, and the
subduing of its power by the law of God
written in the heart. Of this latter only for
the present. Having spoke somewhat of the
sense of the law in ten commandments, and
of the sum of it in two, this remains to be
tonsidered as altogether necessary for obe-
dience, and without which all hearing and
speaking, and all the knowledge of it, will
be fruitless ; though it be made very clear
and legible without, we shall only read it,
and not at all keep it, unless it be likewise
written within.
Observe, 1. The agreement of the law
with the gospel : the gospel bears the com-
plete fulfilling of the law, and satisfying its
highest exactness in our surety Jesus Christ,
so that way nothing is abated ; but, besides
in reference to us ourselves, though it take
off the- rigour of it from us, because answered
by another for us, yet it doth not abolish the
rule of the law, but establisheth it. It is so
far from tearing or blotting out the outward
copies of it, that it writes it anew, where it
was not before, even within ; sets it upon the
heart in sure and deep characters. We see
this kind of writing of the law is a promise
for the days of the gospel, cited out of the
prophet Jeremiah, xxxi. 33.
There is indeed no such writing of the law
in us, or keeping of it by us, as will hold
good for our justification in the sight of God ;
therefore that other promise runs combined
with it, the free forgiveness of iniquity. But
again, there is no such forgiveness as sets a
man free to licentiousness and contempt of I
God's law ; but, on the contrary, binds him I
more strongly to obedience ; therefore to
that sweet promise of the pardon of sin,
is inseparably joined this other of inward
writing of the law. The heart is not wash-
ed from the guiltiness of sin in the blood of
Christ, that it may wallow and defile itself
again in the same puddle, but it is therefore
washed that the tables or leaves of it may be
clean, for receiving the pure characters of
that law of God which is to be written on it.
Concerning this writing there are three
things you may mark : 1. what it is ; 2.
what its necessity : 3. who is its writer.
The writing of the law in the heart is briefly
no other but the renewing and sanctifying of
the heart by the infusion of grace, which is
a heavenly light that gives the soul to know
God aright : and that is added here as the
same with the writing of the law in the heart,
and an illustration of it — They shall all
know me, from the least of them to the great-
est. And this light bringeth heat with it.*
That right knowledge of God being in the
soul, begets in it love to him ; and love is
the same with the fulfilling of the whole law :
it takes up the whole soul — / will put it in
their mind, and write it in their hearts. If
we will distinguish these, then it is, they
shall both know it and love it ; it shall not
be written anew in their heads, and go no
deeper, but written in their hearts ; but we
may well take both for the whole soul, for
this kind of knowledge and love are insepar-
able ; and where the one is, the other can-
not be wanting.
So, then, a supernatural, sanctified know-
ledge of God, is the law of God written in
the heart ; when it comes and entertains him
as holy within it, then it hath not a dead
letter of the law written in it, but vo/<ov
* Lux pst vehiculum caloris.
HEBREWS VITI. 10.
503
tft^u-^ov, the lawgiver himself; his namel
and will is engraven on it throughout, on
every part of it ; all that they know of God
shall not be by mere report, and by the
voice of others, but they shall inwardly read
and know him within themselves ; which
(by the bye) makes not the public teaching
and work of the ministry superfluous to any,
even to those that know most of God, but
signifies only this, that all they that do iu-
deed receive and believe the gospel, are in-
wardly enlightened by the Spirit of God to
understand the things of God, and have not
their knowledge on bare trust of others that
instruct them, without any particular persua-
sion and light within ; but what they hear of
spiritual things, they shall understand and
know after a spiritual manner : and the uni-
versality of the promise signifies, that this
kind of knowledge should be more frequently
and more largely bestowed in the days of the
gospel, than it was before.
2. The necessity of writing the law on the
heart. Although there be in the natural con-
science of man some dim characters of the
law, convincing him of grosser wickedness,
and leaving him inexcusable, of which the
apostle speaks, Rom. ii. 15 ; yet he is so far
naturally from the right knowledge of God,
and the love of his whole law, that, instead
of that knowledge, his mind is full of dark-
ness, Eph. iv. 18 ; and, contrary to that love,
his heart is possessed with a natural enmity
and antipathy against the law of God, Rom.
viii. 7- There is a law within him directly
opposite, which the apostle calls the law of
tin, Rom. vii. 23 ; sin ruling and command-
ing the heart and whole man, making laws
at his pleasure," and obtaining full obedience.
Therefore of necessity, before a man can be
broughttoobey theholylaw of God, the inward
frame of his heart must be changed, the cor-
rupt law of sin must be abrogated, Rom. vi.,
and the soul renounce obedience to it, and
give itself up wholly, IISTVU-IV, to receive the
stamp and impression of the law of God ;
and then having it written within upon his
heart, his actions will bear the resemblance,
and be conformable to it.
In this promise that God makes to his
people, he hath regard to the nature of that
obedience which he requires : because he will
have it sincere and cordial, therefore he puts
a living principle of it within, writes his law
in the heart, and then it is in the words and
actions derived from thence, and is more in
the heart than in them : the first copy is in
the heart, and all the other powers and parts
of a man follow that, and so by that means,
as it is sincere, so it is universal. The heart
is that which commands all the rest ; and as
the vital spirits flow from it to the whole
body, thus the law of God, being written in
it, is diffused through the whole man. It
» Tolerabis iniquas interius leges. CtAOD.
might be in the memory or in the tongue,
and not in the rest ; but put it in the heart,
and then it is undoubtedly in all.
Being written in the heart, makes the obe-
dience likewise universal in the object, (as
they speak,) to the whole law of God. When
it is written only without a man, he may read
one part and pass over another, may possibly
choose to conform to some part of the law,
and leave the rest ; but when the full copy
of it is written in his heart, then it is ah one
law. • And as in itself it is inseparable,
as St. James teacheth us, so it is likewise in
his esteem and affection, and endeavour of
obedience ; he hath regard unfo all the com-
mandments as one. Because of his love to
the law of God, he hates not only some, but
every false way, as David speaks. He that
looks on the law without him, will possibly
forbear to break it while others look upon
him ; his obedience lies much in the behold,
er's eye ; but he that hath the law written
within, cannot choose but regard it as much
in secret as in public. Although his sin
might De hid from the knowledge and censure
of men, yet still it were violence done to that
pure law that is within his breast, and there-
fore he hates it alike, as if it were public.
This is the constant enemy of all sin, this
law within him. / have hid thy law in my
heart, says David, that I might not sin
against thee. It makes a man abate nothing
of his course of obedience and holiness be-
cause unseen, but like the sun, which keeps
on its motion when it is clouded from out
eyes, as well as when we see it.
In a word, this writing of the law in the
heart makes obedience a natural motion, I
mean by a new nature ; it springs not from
outward constraints and respects, but from an
inward principle, and therefore not only is it
universal and constant, but cheerful and easy.
The law only written in tables of stone is
hard and grievous ; but make once the heart
the table of it, and then there is nothing
more pleasing. This law of God makes ser-
vice delightful, even the painfullest of it,
Psalm xl. 8. The sun that moves with such
wonderful swiftness, that to the ignorant it
would seem incredible to hear how many
thousands of miles it goes each hour ; yet
because it is naturally fitted for that course,
it comes, as the Psalmist speaks, like a bride-
groom forth of his chamber, and rejoices at
a strong man to run a race. If the natural
man be convinced of the goodness and equity
of the law of God, yet because it is not writ-
ten within, but only commands without, it is a
violent motion to him to obey it, and therefore
he finds it a painful yoke. But hear David, in
1 whose heart it was, speak of it ; how often
doth he call it his delight and his joy !
If any profane persons object to a godly
man his exact life, that it is too precise, as if
he writ each action before he did it ; he may
504
A DISCOURSE, Set.
answer, as Demosthenes to mm that objected
he wrote his orations before he spake them,
fhat he was not at all ashamed of that, al-
though they were not only written, but en-
graven before-hand. Certainly the godly
man lives by this law that is written and
engraven on his heart, pr>d needs not to be
ashamed of it.
It is true, the renewed man, even he that
hath this law deepest written in his heart,
yet while he lives here, is still molested with
that inbred Antinomian, that law of sin that
yet dwells in his flesh : though the force and
power of it is broken, and its laws repealed in
his conversion,' and this new, pure law placed
in its stead ; yet because that part which is
flesh in him still entertains and harbours it,
it creates and breeds a Christian daily vexa-
tion. Because sin hath lost dominion, it is
still practising rebellion against that spiritual
kingdom and law that is established in the
regenerate mind ; as a man that hath once
been in possession of rule, though usurped,
yet being subdued, he is still working in that
kingdom to turbulent practices. But though
by this (as the apostle was, Rom. vii. 4,) every
godly man i s often driven to sad perplexitie sane
complaints, yet in this is his comfort ; that law
of his God written there hath his heart and af-
fection. Sin is dethroned and thrust out of his
heart, and hath only an usurped abode with,
in him against his will. He sides with the
law of God, and fights with all his power for
it against the other : that holy law is his
delight, and this law of sin his greatest grief.
3. I will write. The Lord promises him-
self to do this, and it is indeed his preroga-
tive. He wrote it at first on tables of stone,
and this spiritual engraving it on the heart is
much more his peculiar. Other men might
afterwards engrave it on stone* but no man
can at all write it on the heart ; not upon his
own, much less upon another's. Upon his
own he cannot, for it is naturally taken up
and possessed with that contrary law of sin,
(as we said before,) and is willingly subject
to it ; loves that law, and therefore in that
posture it neither can nor will work this
change upon itself, to dispossess that law which
it loves. No man can write this law on the
heart of another, for it is inaccessible ; his
hand cannot reach it, he cannot come at it ;
how then should he write any thing on it ?
Men in the ministry of the word can but
Stand and call without : they cannot speak
to within, far less write any thing within.
Though they speak never so excellently and
spiritually, and express no other but what is
written on their own hearts, (and certainly
that is the most powerful way of speaking,
and the likeliest for making impression on
the heart of another,) yet unless the hand of
God's own Spirit carry it into the hearer's
heart, and set on the stamp of it there, it will
perish as a sound in the air, and effect no-
thing. Sonus verborum noslrorum aures
percutit, magister intus. Nolite putare
quenquam hominem aliquid discere ab alio
.homine ; admonere possumus per strepitum
rods nostrts, si non esl in/us qui doceat,
inanis strepitus est noster.* Let this ever
be acknowledged to his glory ; the voice of
men may beat the ear, but only he that made
the heart can work upon it, and change and
mould it as it pleaseth him : this is his own
promise, and he alone makes it good. He
writes his law on the hearts of his children,
and by this work of his grace, prepares them
for glory : they that have this law written in
their hearts, their names are certainly written
in the book of life.
* Augustine Jn '. Jo. Tr. 3.
SHORT CATECHISM.
Question, "W HAT is naturally man's chief
desire ?
Answer. To be happy.
Q. What is the effectual means of obtain •
ing increase of faith and power to obey, and
generally all graces and blessings at the hand
Q. Which ?s the way to true happiness ? j of God ?
A. True religion. A. Prayer.
Rehearse that most excellent and perfect
Q. What is true religion ?
A. The true and lively knowledge of the
only true God, and of him whom he hath
sent, Jesus Christ.
Q. Whence is this knowledge to be learn-
ed ?
prayer that our Saviour hath taught us.
A. All the works of God declare his
being, and his glory ; but clearer knowledge
of himself, and his Son Jesus Christ, is to
be learned from his own word, contained in
the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Tes-
tament.
Q. What do those Scriptures teach us
concerning God ?
A. That he is one infinite, eternal Spirit,
most wise, and holy, and just, and merciful,
and the all-powerful Maker and Ruler of the
world.
Q. What do they further teach us con-
cerning him ?
A. That he is Three in One, and One in
Three, the Father, the Son, and the Holy
Ghost.
Q. What will that lively knowledge of
God effectually work in us ?
A. It will cause us to believe in him, and
to love him above all things, even above our-
selves ; to adore and worship him, to pray to
him, and to praise him and exalt him with
all our might, and to yield up ourselves to
the obedience of his commandments, as hav-
ing both made us, and made himself known
to us for that very end.
Rehearse then the articles of our belief.
I believe in God the Father, &c.
Rehearse the ten commandments of the
law, which are the rule of our obedience, and
so the trial of our love.
A. God spake these words, I am the Lord
thy God, &c.
Q. What is the summary our Saviour
hath given us of this law ?
A. Thou shall love the Lord thy God
with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and
with all thy mind, and thy neighbour as thy-
self.
A. Our Father which art in heaven, &c.
Q. In what estate was man created ?
A. After the image of God, in holiness and
j righteousness.
Q. Did he continue in that estate ?
A. No, but by breaking the command-
ment which his Maker gave him, eating of
the fruit of that tree which was forbidden
him, he made himself and his whole poste-
rity subject to sin and death.
Q. Hath God left man in this misery,
without all means and hopes of recovery ?
A. No. For " he so loved the world, that
he gave his only-begotten Son, that whoso-
ever believeth on him should not perish, but
have everlasting life."
Q. What then is the great doctrine of the
gospel ?
A. That same coming of the Son of God
in the flesh, and giving himself to the death
of the cross to take away the sin of the world,
and his rising again from the dead, and as-
cending into glory.
Q. What doth that gospel mainly teach
and really persuade all the followers of it to
do?
A. It teacheth them to deny " ungodli-
ness and worldly lusts, and to live soberly,
^righteously, and godly in this present world."
Q. How hath our Lord Jesus himself ex-
pressed the great and necessary duty of all
his disciples ?
A. That they deny themselves, and take
up their cross and follow him.
Q. Rehearse then some of the chief points
wherein we are to follow our Lord Jesus
Christ.
A. 1. To surrender ourselves wholly to
our heavenly Father, and his good pleasure
in all things, even in the sharpest afflictions
and sufferings ; and not at all to do our own
will, or design our own praise or advantage,
but in all things to do his will, and intend
his glory.
A SHORT CATECHISM.
2. To be spotless, and chaste, and holy,
in our whole conversation.
3. To be meek and lowly, not to slander
or reproach, to mock or despise any ; and if
my do so to us, to bear it patiently, yea to
rejoice in it.
4. Unfeignedly to love our Christian bre-
thren, and to be charitably and kindly affect-
ed toward all men, even to our enemies, for- '
giving them, yea and praying for them, and
returning them good for evil ; to comfort the
afflicted, and relieve the poor, and to do good
to all as we are able.
Q. Is it necessary that all Christians live
according to these rules ?
A. So absolutely necessary, that they that
do not in some good measure, whatsoever
they profess, do not really believe in Jesus
Christ, nor have any portion in him.
Q. What visible seals hath our Saviour
annexed to that gospel, to confirm our faith,
and to convey the grace of it to us ?
A. The two sacraments of the New Testa-
ment, baptism and the Lord's supper.
Q. What doth baptism signify and seal ?
A. Our washing from sin, and our new
birth in Jesus Christ.
Q. What doth the Lord's supper signify
and seal ?
A- Our spiritual nourishment and growth
in him, and transforming us more and more
into his likeness, by commemorating his
death, and feeding on his body and blood,
under the figures of bread and wine.
Q. What is required to make fit and wor-
thy communicants of the Lord's supper ?
A. Faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, and
repentance towards God, and charity towards
all men.
Q. What is faith in our Lord Jesus ?
A. It is the grace by which we both be-
lieve his whole doctrine, and trust in him as
the Redeemer and Saviour of the world, and
entirely deliver up ourselves to him, to be
taught and ruled by him, as our Prophet,
Priest, and King.
Q. What is repentance ?
A. It is a godly sorrow for sin, and a
hearty and real turning from all sin unto God.
Q. What is the final portion of unbeliev-
ing and unrepentant sinners ?
A. The everlasting torment of devils.
Q. What is the final portion of them that
truly repent and believe, and obey the gospel?
A. The blessed life of angels, in the vision
of God for ever.
A Question for young Persons before their
first Admission to the Lord's Supper.
Q. Whereas you were in your infancy bap-
tized into the name of Jesus Christ, do you
now, upon distinct knowledge, and with firm
belief and pious affection, own that Christian
faith of which you have given an account,
and withal your baptismal vow of renouncing
the service of Satan, and the world, and the
lusts of the flesh, and of devoting yourself to
God in all holiness of life ?
A . I do sincerely and heartily declare my
belief of that faith, and own my engagement
to that holy vow, and resolve, by the assis-
tance of God's grace, to continue in the care-
ful observance of it all my days.
TEN SERMONS,
FROM THE AUTHOR'S MANUSCRIPTS.
SERMON I.
KOMAVS xiii. 11 — 14.
A 'id that, knowing the time, that now it is
high time to awake out of sleep ; for now
is our salvation nearer than when we be-
lieved. The night is far spent, the day is at
hand; let us therefore cant off the wirks of
darkness, and let us put on the armour
of light. Let us walk honestly as in the
day ; not in rioting and drunkenness,
not in chambering and wantonness, not
in strife and envying. But put ye on
the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not
provision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts
thereof.
1 HE highest beauty of the soul, the very
(mage of God upon it, is holiness : he that
is aspiring to it himself, is upon a most ex-
celbnt design ; and if he can do any thing
to excite, and call up others to it, performs a
work of the greatest charity.
This, Paul doth frequently and pressingly
in his writings. This epistle, as it doth
admirably clear the doctrine of justification,
it doth no less earnestly urge the doctrine of
sanctification. That one sentence about the
middle thereof does excellently unite them,
and so is the summary of all that goes before,
and all that follows — There is therefore now
no' condemnation, &c. chap. viii. 1.
The present words are as an alarm, or
morning-watch bell, of singular use, not only
awaking a Christian to his day's work, but
withal reminding him what it is ; and these
two shall be all our division of them.
1. Our awaking sounded. 2. Our walk-
ing directed. The former, vers. 11, 12, tells
us it is time to rise, and calls us up to put
on our clothes, and, being soldiers, our arms.
The latter, ver. 13, directeth our behaviour
and employment throughout the day. The
last verse doth shortly, and that fidly and
clearly, fold up both together. We shall
take the words just as they lie.
And that knowinq the lime. This im-
ports much in all actions, and here it i§
the apostle's great argument. Now it is
unfit to sleep, knowing the time ; however
it might have been before, now it is very un-
seasonable and unsuitable, that you lie snor-
ing as at midnight. Do you know what
o'clock it is ? It is time to rise ; it is morn-
ing, the day begins to appear.
Observation. All the days of sinful nature
are dark night, in which there is no right
discerning of spiritual things : some light
there is of reason, to direct natural and civil
actions, but no day-light. Till the *un
rise, it is night still, for all the stars, and the
moon to help them. Notwithstanding na-
tural speculations, that are more remote, and
all prudence and policy for affairs, that come
somewhat nearer to action, yet we are still in
the night, and you do think that a sad life ;
but, the truth is, we sleep on in it, and oui
heads are still full of new dreams that keep
us sleeping. We are constantly drunk with
cares or desires of sense, and so our sleep
continues. Sometimes it is called death,
dead in sins, &c. Now, sleep is brother
to death ; and so by it not unfitly is the
same state resembled. No spiritual life
we have at all, and therefore in that sense
are truly dead. But because there is in us
a natural life, and in that a capacity of spiri-
tual life, therefore we are said to be asleep.
As in a dead sleep, our soul is bound up
and drowned in flesh ; a surcharge of the va-
pours of gross sensible things that we glut
ourselves withal, and the condition of our
wisest thoughts, in relation to our highest
good, are nothing but dreams and reveries.
Your projecting, and bargainings, and build-
ings, these be a better sort of dreams ; but
your envyings, and mutual despisings and
discontents, your detracting and evil-speak-
ing, these are more impertinent, and to your-
selves more perplexing : and your sweetest
enjoyments in this life, that you think most
real, are but shadows of delight, a more plea-
sant sort of dreams. All pomps and royal
solemnities, the scripture calls <pa.vrartiis, Acts
xxv. 23. A man will not readily think so.
508
SERMON I.
while lie is in them. Somnium narrare vigi-
lantis est. We do not perceive the vanity
of our dreams, and know that they are so,
and declare them to be so, till we be awaked.
Sometimes in a dream a man will have such
a thought that it is but a dream, yet doth he
not thoroughly see the folly thereof, but goes
on in it. The natural man may have some-
times a glance of such thoughts, that all these
things he is either turmoiling or delighting
in are vanity, and nothing to the purpose ;
yet he awakes not, but raves on still in them ;
lie shifts a little, tarns on his bed as a door
on its hinges, but turns not off, does not
rise.
But the spiritual-minded Christian, that
is indeed awake, and looks back on his for-
mer thoughts and ways, O how does he dis-
dain himself, and all his former high fancies
that he was most pleased with, finding them
dreams ! O what a fool, what a wretch was
I, while my head was full of such stuff,
building castles in the air, imagining and
catching at such gains, and such preferments,
and pleasures, and either they still running
before me, and I could not overtake them ; or
if 1 thought I did, what have I now, when I
see what it is, and find that I have embraced
a shadow, false hopes and fears and joys ?
He thinks he hath eaten, and his soul is
empty, Isa. xxix. 8. And you that will
sleep on, may ; but sure I am, when you
come to your death-bed, if possibly you awake
then, then shall you look back, with sad
regret, upon whatsoever you most esteemed
a»iu Cloned in under the sun. While t.,uj
are coming towards you, they have some
show ; but, as a dream that is past, when
these gay things are flown by, then we see
how vain they are : as that luxurious king
caused to be painted on his tomb two fingers,
as sounding one upon another with these
words, All is not worth so much, Non lanti
est, I know not how men make a shift to
satisfy themselves ; but take a sober and
awakened Christian, and set him in the midst
of the best of all things that are here, his
heart would burst with despair of satisfaction,
were it not for a hope that he hath, beyond
all that this poor world either attains, or his
seeking after ; and that hope is, indeed, the
dawning of the day that is here spoken of.
It is time to awake, says he : salvation
is nearer than when ye believed. That
bright day you look for is hastening forward ;
it is nearer than when you began to believe ;
the night is far spent, the gross darkness is
already past, some day-light it is, and is
every moment growing, and the perfect, full
morning-light of it is very near.
Obs. Grace, and the gospel that works it,
compared with the dark night of nature, is
he day, and it is often so called : the apostle
here calls it so — Let us walk honestly as in
(he day. But yet that same light of the
gospel shining to us in the word, and within
us by the Spirit, is but the appearance or
approaching of the day, a certain pledge of
it, yea, a kind of beginning of it, telling us
that it is hard at hand. It is one and the
same light, and where it enters into any soul,
it makes sure that eternal full day to it,
which it shall not be disappointed of, more
than the day can go back, and the sun fail
to rise when the dawning is begun : and this
begun, light is still growing clearer, and
tending to the perfect day, Prov. iv. 18.
And at the first peep or appearance of it, go
much it is, that the soul is called to awake
and arise, and put on day-clothes, and apply
itself to the actions of the day ; and that is
the thing the apostle here presses by it.
O the blessed gospel, revealing God in
Christ, and calling up sinners to communion
with him ; dispelling that black night of ig-
norance and accursed darkness that other-
wise had never ended, but passed on to an
endless night of eternal missry ! Says not
Zacharias with good reason in his song,
Luke i. 78, that it was through the tender
mercy of God that this day-spring from on
high did visit na?
Now, says the apostle, this day appearing,
it is time to awake ; and the longer since it
began to appear, and the clearer the light
grows, the more high time is it to awake and
rise, and cast off night-clothes and night-
works, works of darkness, and to put on
garments, yea, armour of light. He that is
a soldier, his garments are not on till his
arms be on, and his sword about him, then
he is ready ; especially in a time and posture
of war, and the enemy lying nigh, even round
about him ; and this is every Christian's
state while ne is nere. An armour of light,
not only strong and useful, but comely and
graceful, fit to walk abroad in ; bright, shin-
ing armour ; as your old poets describe their
champions, dazzling their enemies' eyes.
And thus apparelled, to behave ourselves
suitably, to walk honestly as in the day,
not in rioting and drunkenness : that is a
night-work, as the apostle hath it, 1 Thess.
v. 7- To stagger and reel in the streets in
day-light, to be drunk in the morning, is
most shameful : so is that spirit of drunken-
ness as unbeseeming a Christian ; to see
them hurrying and justling one another, as
drunk with love of earthly things, and their
spirits by that besotted, and unfitted for spi-
ritual things, that they find no pleasure in
them.
Chambering and wantonness. All impure,
lascivious conversation, how vile are these,
and unfit for the light ! Even nature is
ashamed to be seen in these things, in the
natural light of the day ; much more will
grace in the spiritual light of the gospel.
Strife and envy. As shuffles and hot
quarrels are most of all unseemly in the
SERMON 1.
streets in day-light, so the quarrels and jar-
rings of Christians are very shameful before
the light wherein they walk. The gospel
of Christ, the grand doctrine thereof, is meek-
ness and love. But, O where are they, these
graces that so abound in the doctrine of
Christianity, and yet are so scarce in the lives
of Christians ? Where are they that look
gladly on the good of others, and bear evils
and injuries from their neighbours patiently,
and repay evil with good ? Thus it ought to
be ; but, on the contrary, how ready are the
most to part on the least occasions, to bite
and snarl at each other ! More still of the
spirit of the dragon than of the dove. My
brethren, remember and consider that the
gospel light shines amongst us, and that
more clearly than in former times, and more
clearly than tomost people in the worldin these
times, and do not outface and affront the bles-
sed light with the accursed works of darkness ;
you might have been profane in former times,
or in some other place, at a cheaper rate.
Know, that if this glorious light do not
break off your course of sin, it will increase
your load of judgment : the heaviest of ell
condemnations, is to live in darkness, and to
live and die in it, in the midst of light.
Amongst all your desperate, accursed wishes,
this shall be one, and a chief one, that either
the Son of God had never come into the
world, or that you had never heard of him.
Much of that we aim at were gained, if
Christians could be brought to consider who
they are, and walk like themselves : it would
raise them above the base pleasures of sin,
and snares of the world. The way of life
is on high to the jnst ; there is a holy lofti-
ness, a disdain of all impure, sordid ways.
It is said of Jehoshaphut, that his heart
was lift up in the ways of the Lord, 2
Chron. xvii. 5. As a vain, self-conceited
lifting up of the heart is the great enemy of
our welfare, as it is written of another, even
of a good king, ( Ilezekiah,) that his heart
was lift up, therefore was wrath upon him ;
so there is a happy exaltation cf the heart,
where it is raised in God, to despise all com-
munion with the unholy, and the unholy
ways of the world. This, my brethren, is
what I would were wrought in you by the
consideration of our holy calling. We are
called to holiness, and not to uncleanness.
Ye are the children of the light and of the
day : base night ways, such as cannot endure
the light, do not become you. O that come-
liness that the saints should study, that de-
corum they should keep in all their ways,
iwr%tiftii*ai:, one action like another, and all
like Christ, living as in the light. They
that converse with the best company, such
persons are obliged to more decency in ap-
parel. We live in the light, in the com-
pany of angels, of God, and Jesus Christ ;
and therefore should not act any thing that
is low or mean, unbeseeming the rank we
keep, and the presence of those we frequent.
When the king passes through the country
in progress, they that see him seldom, being
either to attend him in his way, or to receive
him into their houses, will labour to have all
things in the best order they can for the
time ; but they that live at court, and are
daily in the king's presence, are constantly
court-like in their habit and carriage, and all
about them. O Followers of the Lamb,
let your garments be always white, yea, let
him be your garment ; clothe yourselves with
himself; have your robes made of his spot-
less fleece.
Ver. 11. Put on the Lord Jesus. No
resemblance is more usual than that of peo-
ple's customs to their clothes, their habitudes
to their habits. This the apostle used in the
foregoing words, Put on the (furniture, or)
armour of liyht, having cast off the works as
clothes of darkness, night-clothes ; and the
word, walking decently, has something of
the same resemblance contained in it ; and
here we have the proper beauty and ornament
of Christians, even the Lord Jesus, recom-
mended to them under the same notion, Put
on, &c. Him we put on by faith, and are
clothed with him as our righteousness. We
come unto our Father, in our elder brother's
perfumed garments, and so obtain the bless-
ing of which he in a manner was stripped for
our sakes, did undergo the curse, and was
made a curse for our sakes ; so the apostle
speaks of him ; we put him on, as the Lord
our righteousness, and are made the righte-
ousness of God in htm. This investiture
is first, when our persons are made accepta-
ble, and we come into court. But there is
another pulling of him on, in the conformity
of holiness, which always accompanies the
former, and that is it which is here meant.
And this I declare unto you, that whosoever
does not thus put him on, shall find them-
selves deceived in the other, if they imagine
it belongs to them.
They that are the sons of God, and have
the hope of inheriting with him, do really
oecome like him, even heirs in some degree ;
(1 John iii. 3 ;) and that blessed expecta-
tion we have, is to be fully like him. When
he appears, we shall be like him, saith the
apostle ; and in the mean while are endea-
vouring to be so, and somewhat attaining it,
as he adds, Ever;/ one that hath this hope
purifielh himself, as he is pure. He is the
only-begotten Son ; and we are so restored
in him to the dignity of sons, that withal we
are really changed into his likeness. He
is the Image of the Father that is renewed
upon us.
It is the substance of religion to be like
him whom we worship." Man's end and per-
fection is likeness to God. But, oh ! the
» Summa religionis imitari quern colis.
610
SERMON I.
distance, the unlikeness, yea, the contrariety,
that is fallen upon our nature ! The carnal
mind is enmity to God ; the soul, as it were,
became flesh, and so most unsuitable to the
Father of spirits ; it is become like the beast
that perishes. Now, to repair and raise us,
this was the course taken : we could not ripe
up to God ; he came down to us, yea, unto
us, to raise and draw us up again to him.
He became like us, that we might become like
him. God first put on man, that man might
put on God. Putting on the Lord Jesus,
we put on man ; but that man is God ; and
so, in putting on man, we put on God. Thus,
putting on Christ, we put on all grace : this,
not only by studying him as our copy and
example, but by real participation of his spirit ;
and that >o as that daily the likeness is grow-
ing, while we are carried by that spirit to
study his example, and enabled in some
measure to conform to it ; so that these two
go together, growing in grace, and in the
knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus
Christ. He is the armour of light before
spoken of ; all our ornament and safety is in
him. Some pictures of great persons you
have seen, with arms and robes on at once,
yea, both in one, for he is both. So this
is the great study of a Christian, to eye
and read Christ much, and by looking on
him, to become more and more like him,
making the impression deeper by each day's
meditation and beholding of him ; his Spirit
in us, and that love his Spirit works, making
the work easy, as sympathies do ; and still
the more the change is wrought, it becomes
still the more easy to work it ; this is excel-
lently described by this apostle, 2 Cor. iii. 18.
• Now we see our business : O that we had
hearts to do it ! It is high, it is sweet, to be
growing more and more Christ-like every
day. What is the purchase or conquest of
kingdoms to this ? O ! what are we doing,
that mind not this more, even they whose
proper work it is ? How remiss are they in
it, and what small progress do they make !
Are we less for the world and ourselves, and
more for God this year than the former ; more
meek and gentle, able to bear wrongs, and do
good for them ; more holy and spiritual in
our thoughts and ways, more abundant and
fervent in prayer ? I know there will be times
of deadness and winter seasons, even in the
souls of living Christians ; but it is not al-
ways so ; it will come about yet ; so that,
take the whole course of a Christian together,
he is advancing, putting on still more of
Christ, and living in him. There is a closer
union betwixt the soul and this its spiritual
clothing, than betwixt the body and its gar-
ments ; which imports a transformation into
Christ, put on as a new life, or new self.
The Christian by faith doth this ; he puts
off himself, old carnal self, and instead there-
of puts on Jesus Christ ; and thenceforward
hath no more regard of that old self, than of
old cast clothes, but is all for Christ ; joys
in nothing else. This is a mystery that
cannot be understood but by partaking of it.
My brethren, learn to have these thoughts
frequent and occurrent with you on all occa-
s.o.is. Think, when about any thing, how
would Christ behave himself in this : even
so let me endeavour.
You will possibly say, They that speak
thus, and advise us, do not do thus. O !
that that were not too true ; yet there be
some that are real in it, and although it be
but little that is attained, yet the very aim
is excellent, and somewhat there is that is
done by it. It is better to have such thoughts
and desires than altogether to give them up ;
and the very desire, being serious and sin.
cere, does so much change the habitude and
usage of the soul and life, that it is not to be
despised.
Now follows, And make no provision for
the flesh, &c., and it will follow necessarily.
We hear much to little purpose. O ! to have
the heart touched by the Spirit with such a
word as is here : it would untie it from all
these things. These are the words, the very
reading of which wrought so with Augustine,
that, of a licentious young man, he turned a
holy, faithful servant of Jesus Christ. While
you were without Christ, you had no highei
nor other business to do, but to attend and
serve the flesh ; but once having put him on,
you are other men, and other manners do
become you : Alia eetas alias mores postulat,
This forbids not eating and drinking and
clothing, and providing for these, nor decency
and comeliness in them. The putting on of
Christ does not bar the sober use of them ;
yea, the moderate providing for the necessities
of the flesh, while thou art tied to dwell in
it, that may be done in such a way as shall
be a part of thy obedience and service to God ;
but to lay in provision for the lusts of il,
is to victual and furnish his enemy and thine
own ; for the lusts of the flesh do strive against
God's Spirit, and war against thy soul. Gal.
v. 17; 1 Peter ii. 11.
This was the quarrel betwixt God and his
own people in the wilderness : bread for
their necessities he gave them, but they re-
quired bread for their lusts, (which should
rather have been starved to death than fed,)
and many of them fell in the quarrel. He
gave them their desire, but gave them a
plague with it, and they died with the meat
between their teeth. Many that seem to
follow God, and to have put on Christ, yet
continuing in league with their lusts, and
providing for them, they are permitted a
while so to do, and are not withheld from their
desire, and seem to prosper in the business ;
but though not so sudden and sensible as
that of the Israelites, there is no less certain
a curse joined with all they purchase and
SERMON II.
611
provide for that unhallowed use. It is cer-
tainly the posture and employment of most
of us, even that are called Christians, to be
purveyors for the flesh, even for the lusts of
it:' these lusts comprehending all sensual,
and all worldly, flesh-pleasing projects ; even
some things that seem a little more decent
and refined, come under this account. What
are men commonly doing, but projecting and
labouring beyond necessity, for fuller and
finer provision for back and belly, and to
feed their pride, and raise themselves and
theirs somewhat above the condition of others
about them ? And where men's interests meet
in the teeth, and cross each other, there arise
heart-burnings and debates, and an evil eye
one against another, even on a fancied pre-
judice, where there is nothing but crossing
an humour : so the grand idol is their own
will, that must be provided for, and served
in all things, which takes them up early and
late, how they may be at ease, and pleased
and esteemed and honoured. This is the
provision for the flesh and its lusts ; and
from this are all they called that have put on
Christ, not to a hard, mean, unpleasant life,
instead of that other ; but to a far more
high and more truly pleasant life, that dis-
graces all those their former pursuits that
they thought so gay, while they knew no
better. There is a transcendent sweetness
in Christ that puts the flesh out of credit.
Put on Christ, thy robe royal, and make
no provision, &c., and sure thou wilt not
then go and turmoil in the kitchen. A soul
clothed with Christ, stooping to any sinful
delight, or an ardent pursuit of any thing
earthly, though lawful, doth wonderfully in-
dignify itself: methinks it is a king's son
in his princely apparel, playing the scullion,
sitting down to turn the spits. A soul living
in Christ indeed hath no vacancy for the
superfluous, luxurious demands of flesh, yea,
supplies the very necessities of it with a kind
of regret. A rtccess-itatibus meis Cibera me,
Domine, said one.
Oh ! raise up your spirits, you that pre-
tend to any thing in Christ ; delight in him,
and let his love satisfy you at all times. What
need you go a begging elsewhere ? All you
would add makes you the poorer, abates so
much of your enjoyment of him ; and what
can compensate that ? Put on the Lord
Jesus, and then view yourselves, and see if
you be fit to be slaves to flesh and earth.
These two, Put on the Lord Jesus, and
make no provision, are directly the represen-
tation of the church, Rev. xii. A woman
clothed with the sun, and the moon under
her feet, needed borrow no beauty from it,
or any thing under it. She left the scarlet,
and the purple and gold, to the harlot after
spoken of, for her dressing.
The service of the flesh is a work the
» Ad supervacnum suJare.
Christian cannot fold to, till he forget what
clothes he has on. This is all, my brethren.
O ! that we could be persuaded once to put
on Christ, and then resolve and remember
to do nothing unbeseeming that attire
SERMON II.
PSALM cvii. 43.
Whoso is tcise, and will observe these thingt,
even -they shall understand the loving-
kindness of the Lord.
MOST men live a brutal, sensitive life ;
live not so much as the life of reason ; but
far fewtr the divine life of faith, which is
further above common human reason than
that is above sense. The spiritual light of
grace is that which makes day in the soul ;
all other wisdom is but night-light : " Then
I saw that wisdom excelleth folly, as far as
light excelleth darkness," Eccl. ii. 13. This
higher sort of knowledge is that the prophet
speaks of.
Having discoursed excellently through the
Psalm, of the wisdom, power, and goodness
of God, so legible in his providence towards
men, and often called up the dull minds of
men to consider these his works, and bless
him for them, he closes with this applaud,
ment of their happiness that truly do so,
Whcso is wise, &c.
They that spake it, knew not how true
their speech is, that have called the world a
nest of fools. It is true, there is very little
even of natural clearness of judgment amongst
men, but sure far less of this true spiritual
wisdom ; so that, if we read this as a ques-
tion, Whoso is wise ? Oh ! how few !
And yet most imagine they are ; few are con.
vinced they are fools, and that is the height
of their folly. That word is most true, Job
xi. 12, Vain man would be wise, thou-gh
he be born as the wild ass's colt. In youth
he runs wild, unbroken and unuseful, and in
fuller age hath but a brutish, slavish life,
yokes in with his beasts, in the same kind
of labour, or in little better ; turmoiling and
drudging to serve his base lusts, his gain,
his pleasure, and forgets quite what high
condition the soul that sparkles within him
is born to, and made capable of ; in a word,
knows not God. That is both his folly and
misery. How much of life passes, ere we
consider what we live for ; and though all
applied, how incapable are a great many to
know any thing !* To this purpose there
is a notable word, Job xi. 8, 9.
Now, to stir up your desires and endca-
• Inter homines quid homine rarlus*
612
SERMON II.
vours after this wisdom, consider, that it is
the true elevation of human nature, to be
wise ; and they that are not such, or know
somewhat of their own defect, yet would
willingly pass for such, and had rather be
accounted uncomely, yea, even dishonest,
than unwise ; (call a man any thing rather
than a fool ;) but yet, if they could, would
rather have the thing than the reputation of
it, and desire really to be wise, if it were in
their power.
Now, it were good to work on this design .
within us, and to have it drawn into the j
right channel. Would you be wise ? then •
seek true wisdom. The most that men seek |
and admire in themselves and others, are but
false shadows and appearances of wisdom :
knowledge either of base, low things, as to
scrape and gather together, or else of vain,
unprofitable things, and that knowledge
that is for the most part but imaginary : '
for most things in state-affairs take ano-
ther bias and course — are not so much
modelled by wit, as most men imagine ; and
for the secrets of nature, we have little certain
knowledge of them. How short is our life
to attain any knowledge ! (That is an excel-
lent word, Job viii. 9.) But the knowledge
here set before us, is the best kind of know-
ledge, of the highest things, divina things :
I say, the best kind of knowledge of them ;
for there are notions, even of these things,
that have little in them ; either curious, fruit-
less disputations of such points as are most
removed both from our notice and our use,
or an useless knowledge of useful things.
But this is a well-regulated and sure-footed
knowledge of divine things, as God himself
hath revealed them.
This wisdom descends from above ; there-
fore, for the attainment of it, two things are
necessary: 1st, To know that we know it, sen-
sibly and feelingly to know this, that we know
nothing of the things of God. Mulii ad sa-
pientiampervenirent, nisi se jamjam perve-
nisse arhitrarenlur : Many men would have
attained to wisdom, if they had not fancied
or imagined that they had already attained
to it. I speak not now of the lowest sort,
the grossly, the brutishly ignorant even of
the letter of divine truths, but such as can
give themselves or others, if put to it, a good
account of the principles of faith and holiness,
have read and heard much, and possibly
learned and retained not a little that way,
yet still are but ignorants, strangers to this
heavenly wisdom. Therefore men must first
know this, that they may go new to school
again, and become as little children, 1 Cor.
iii. 19. Wisdom invites no other, Prov. ix.
4. The strange woman, and so all the en-
ticements to sin, they invite the same per-
sons, (ver. 1C,) but to a directly opposite end ;
she calls the fools to befool them, to drown
them in folly and wretchedness ; but wisdom
calls them, to unbefool them, to recover them,
and teach them the way of life.
2dly, Being convinced and sensible of the
want of it, to use the right way to attain it,
to give all diligent attendance on the word
and ordinances of God, to desire it of him.
Desire is all : if you desire much, you shall
have much. Vent thy desire this way heaven-
wards, whence this wisdom descends. This
light springs from on high : man cannot
raise himself to it without another : // any
man lack wisdom, if he is but once sensible
of that, why then the sweetest, easiest way
to attain it that can be desired, is pointed
out ; let him ask it of God, who gives liber-
ally, and upbraideth not; does neither harsh-
ly refuse, nor upbraidingly give it, delights
to give it to them that ask it, even his own
Holy Spirit, the spring of this wisdom, as he
hath promised.
We are all too little in this humble seeking
and begging of this divine knowledge, and
that is the cause we are so shallow and small
proficients. If thou cry and lift up thy voice
for understanding, (Prov. ii. 3, &c.,) search
for it as for hid treasures ; sit down upon thy
knees and dig for it : that is the best pos-
ture, to fall aright upon the golden vein, and
go deepest to know the mind of God, in
searching the Scriptures, to be directed and
regulated in his ways, to be made skilful in
ways of honouring him, and doing him ser-
vice ; this, men nor angels cannot teach him,
but God alone.
Of this wisdom we have here the charac-
ter and privilege. 1st, The character — Whosz
observes these things. That looks back to
the doctrine of the Psalmist, which is very
divinely sweet, extolling the goodness 01
God in general in his dealings with men,
and instancing in divers occurrent and re-
markable particulars the fitness and mildness
of his chastisements, the Reasonableness and
sweetness of his deliverances, correcting us
for our greater good, and relieving us in our
greatest need, when we are nearest despairing
of relief. This is exemplified in travellers
and prisoners, in sick men and seamen, and
in the various disposal of the state of all
sorts of persons, the highest and the mean-
est ; and the repeated sweet burden of the
song is, O that men would praise the Lord
for his goodness, &c. And in the end, the
result of all, ver. 42, the joy of the godly,
the shame and silencing of the wicked, that
usually either mistake, or slight, or despise
the providence of God in the rule of human
affairs, readily speak big their own thoughts,
which are vain, promising themselves con-
tinual success. In the end he shall clear
himself, and glad the souls of his people,
and clothe his enemies with shame. Wait
a while, and thus it shall be ; they shall
change places. " He pours contempt upon
princes, and sets the p/>or on high from af-
SERMON II.
613
fiiction, and so right* himself, and them ; vacant, yet spinning themselves out in frothy
that wait on him. Then the righteous shall foolish fancies, that you would be ashamed
see it and rejoice, and all iniquity shall to look back upon. You might entertain
stop her mouth; and it is a great point | divine and heavenly thoughts, even while
of true wisdom, rightly to observe these about your earthly employments and refresh.
things.
This observing hath in it, first, a believ.
ing notice of these things, to take such in-
stances aright, when they meet our eye, to
know these things to be indeed the Lord's
doings ; and so, when we are in any present
strait, to believe accordingly the same in-
«pection of his eye, and secret conduct of his
hand, to be in all. Now, it is a great point
to have the heart established in these per-
suasions. We are generally much defective
in this, and they most that least suspect
themselves of it. But withal, the observing
or keeping of these things, (so the word is,)
this firm believing hath in it these two, fol-
lowing on it and flowing from it — serious
contemplation, and suitable action.
1st, Often to turn our eye to the view of
these things, and to keep it on them, so as
to have our hearts warmed with them, to be
deeply taken with wonder and love. But,
alas ! our souls are drowned in flesh, drag-
ged down from things that become them,
and are worthy of them, to drudge and weary
themselves in the mire and clay. How few
are there that make it a great part of their
daily business, to behold God in his works
and ways with themselves and others ! Some,
in respect of others, are called great spirits :
out oh, what are they ? What a poor great-
ness is it, to project for a great estate, or
great places and titles, or to conceive great
revenges of little wrongs ! There is some-
thing even in nature, of greatness of spirit,
very far beyond the bastard, false character
that most take of it, that is above most
things others imagine great, and despises
them ; but true greatness is this, to have a
mind much taken up with the greatness of
God, admiring and adoring him, and ex-
citing others to do so ; grieved, and holily
angry, that men regard him so little ; breath-
ing forth such wishes as these of the Psalm-
ist, both to express their own thoughts, and
to awake sleeping, besotted men, about
them — O that men would praise the Lord
for his goodness, &c. They could wish a
voice that could reach many thousands ; and
if they had one audible to all the world,
would use it no otherwise than to be pre-
centors of the praises of God, to call up
and begin the song, O
praise, &c.
Consider yourselves, my brethren, and
trace r.mrselves into your own hearts, whether
often in the day your thoughts run this way
finding the meditation of God sweet to you,
or if they do not run out much more to vain
things, and are seldom here ; either hurried
Juul busied in a surcharge of affairs ; or, ii
ments ; but this is little known, and little
sought after. Make it your business to learn
more of this wisdom: call in your hearts, com-
mune often with yourselves and with God; be
less abroad, and more within, and more above:
it is by far the sweetest life. Beg of God
to wind up your hearts, when you find them
heavy and dull, that they follow you slowly
in this, and need much pulling and haling
from your hand : a touch from his hand will
make them mount up easily and nimbly,
Oh f seek his drawing : Draw me, I will
run after thee. And when you meet to-
gether, let this be your business, to speak
of Him that alone is to be exalted, that doth
and disposeth all as he pleases. Say to
friends, and kindred, and neighbours, O !
how great and how gracious a God have we !
Oh ! that we could bless him !
2dly, To keep these things, is to walk
according to the firm belief and frequent
thoughts of them, to fear him, and to walfc
humbly and warily, because our follies draw
on his rods, and to study to please him, and
no matter who be displeased ; and when he
corrects, to fall down humbly under his ham
who hath our sickness and health, our life
and death, and all that concerns us, in his
absolute power. If any thing advance or
advantage us before others, endeavour to be
the more lowly and serviceable to him :
if in a low condition, to bless and reverence
him ; for his presence will turn the meanest
cottage, yea, the darkest dungeon, into a
palace.
The chief delight of the saints is to offer
praises to God, to gather them in from all
his works, to send up to him : and his chief
delight in all his works is to receive these
praises of them from their hands ; they arti-
culate them, make a reasonable sacrifice of
them. Psalm cxlv. 10, All thy \porks shall
praise thee, and thy saints shall bless thee.
\Ve are called to this high work, yet lie be-
hind, and, most unworthily and foolishly,
abase ourselves in other things.
But they that are wise, if there be any,
will mind this, will not let the Lord's mar-
vellous and gracious doings pass without
notice. It is a high proof of his love to us,
that he loves to be seen work by us, and
stoops to take our acclamations and approve-
ments, hath such regard to them, and re-
wards them so richly ; even thus : Whoso in
wise, and will observe these things, they
shall understand the loving-kindness of the
Lord. Obs. They that are wise, and ob-
serve, shall understand further ; to him
that hath shall be given ; to him that use-
fullv hath ; that is to have, and so then
— A
£-14
SERMON II.
meant ; to him that improves it to his ad-
vantage that gave it. The greatest difficulty
is to begin ; as one said of his growing rich,
" That he came hardly by a little riches, and
easily by great riches." Having once got a
stock, he grew rich apace ; so once taking,
be it but the first lessons of this wisdom,
learning these well shall facilitate thy know-
ledge exceedingly : The wise increaseth
learning, Prov. i. 5. Wouldst thou but re-
ceive and hearken to the easiest things re-
presented by God, these would enlighten
and enlarge thy soul to receive more ; espe-
cially walking by the light thou hast, be it
never so little, that invites and draws in
more. Be diligent in the practice of that
you know ; if you would know more, believe
it, that is the way to grow. Whoso observes,
[keeps these things, acts according to the
knowledge of them,] he shall understand,
(John vii. 17>) shall understand it by find-
ing it, shall understand it in themselves ;
(the word is in the reciprocal mood, Hith-
pahel;) it shall be particularly and effec-
tually shewn unto him ; they shall experi-
ence it, and so understand it, and that is the
only lively understanding of it. Men may
hear, yea deliver large discourses of it, anc
yet not understand the thing : happy are
they to whom this is given. Solus docet
qui dat, et discit qui recipit : He alone
teaches who gives, and he who receives
learns.
Lovinff.kindness. Heb. Graciousness ;
all sorts of kindnesses, even outward anc
common mercies, in those shall he under-
stand his goodness ; in recoveries and de
liveries from dangers, and blessings, be their
portion in them less or more ; though the
things be common, yet they come to be his own
by a particular stamp of love, that to others
they have not. And the children of Go<
know it ; they can find it out, and can reac
it, though the world that looks on it, can
not : and, indeed, to them the lowest things
are disposed of, in order to the highest ; their
daily bread given them by that same love
that gives them Christ ; all is given in him
so the curse is taken away, and all is sweet-
ened by a blessing. " A little that a right-
eous man hath, is better than the abundanci
of the wicked."
But the things they chiefly prize and de
sire, as indeed they deserve so to be, are o
another sort : in their very being and nature
are love-tokens, effects of that peculiar frei
grace which chose them to live ; and this i
called the " light of God's countenance
his everlasting love." " Now, they that ar
wise, and observe these things, they sha]
understand this loving-kindness :" not tha
they first are thus wise, before they partaki
of this loving-kindness : no, by it this wis
dom was given them ; but this promise i
made to tneir improvement of that gift,
valking in those ways of wisdom. Not
nly are they loved of God, but they shall
understand it ; he will manifest himself to
hem, and tell them he loves them ; and the
more they walk in these ways, the more
ilearly shall they perceive and powerfully
ind his love manifested to them.
This is the highest inducement that can be
;o such as have any interest in it. When
his love hath but once touched them, though
as yet they know it not certainly, yet it
works that esteem and affection, that no-
:hing can be admitted into comparison with
t. While carnal men wallow in the puddle,
;hese are the crystal streams a renewed soul
desires to bathe in, even the love of God.
Oh ! let me find that : no matter what I
have, or what I want : in poverty, or any
distressed, forsaken condition, one good word
or look from him makes me up. I can sit
down content and cheerful, and rejoice in
that : though all the world frown on me, and
all things look dark and comfortless about
me, that is a piece of heaven within the
soul. Now, of this experimental, understand-
ing knowledge of this love, there are different
degrees ; a great latitude in this : to some
are afforded, at times, light glimpses and in-
lets of it, in a more immediate way ; (but
these stay not, suavis hora, sed brevis
mora ;) others are upheld in the belief of it,
and live on it by faith ; though it shine not
so clear, yet a light they have to walk by ;
though the sun shines not bright out to them
all their life, yet they are led home, and un-
derstand so much in their way, as shall bring
them to the fulness of it in the end. Others,
having past most of the day, have a fair
glimpse in the very evening or close of it ;
but, howsoever, they that walk in this way
by this light, whatsoever measure they have
of it, are led by it to the land of light;
The connexion here made you see — They
that wisely observe these things, shall un-
derstand this loving-kindness. A wise ob-
serving of God's ways, and ordering our own
to his mind, is the certain way to attain
much experienced knowledge of his love.
This love is most free, and from the be-
ginning to the end works of itself; but, in
the method of it, he hath thus linked things
together, made one portion of grace, in the use
of it, draw on another ; and this his children
should prudently consider. There is such a
like speech, Psalm 1. 23, " Wiioso offereth
praise, glorifieth me ; and to him that order-
eth his conversation aright, will I shew the
salvation of God."
The contemplation of God in his works,
sets the soul open to receive the influences of
love ; by looking towards him, it draws his
eye towards it, as one look of love draws on
another. Certainly, many that have some
desire of the light of God's countenance, and
ana evidences of his love, yet. in not applying
SKU.UON II
515
their souls to consider him, do much injure
tnemselves.
Heavenly thoughts do refine the soul, as
nre works itself higher, and to a purer flame,
by stirring. To be blessing God for his
goodness, giving him praise in view of his
works in the world, and for his church, and
particularly for us ; this both disposes the
heart to a more suitable temper for receiving
divine comforts, and invites him to let them
flow into it. For if he have such acknow-
ledgments for general goodness and common
mercies, how much larger returns shall he
have upon the discoveries of special love ! It
is a sight of God as reconciled thou would.
cst have : now, praise sets a man amongst
the angels, and they behold his face.
Again, action, walking in his ways humbly
and carefully, and so waiting, never wants a
successful return of much love. How can
he, who is goodness itself, hide and reserve
himself from a soul that yields up itself to
him, hath no delight but to please him,
hates and avoids what may offend him ?
This, sure, is the way, if any under heaven,
to enjoy communion with him.
They that forget him, and disregard their
ways, and are no way careful to order them
to his liking, do but delude themselves with
mistaken fancies of mercy. I beseech you
be warned ; there cannot be solid peace in
the ways of sin : No peace to the wicked,
says my God. Outward, common favours,
you may share for a time ; but these have a
curse with them to you, and you shall quickly
be at an end of these receipts ; and then you
would look towards them for some persua-
sions of his loving-kindness, but are likely
to find nothing but frowns and displeasure.
Oh} consider this, ye that forget God, (that
is the greatest disease,) lest he tear you in
pieces, and there be none to deliver you.
Even they that have some title to this
love of God, and are desiring evidence of it,
yet do often sit exceedingly in their own
light, and work against their end, still bent
on that assurance they would have, and yet
neglect the way to it, which certainly is in a
manner to neglect it. Were they more bu-
sied in honouring God, doing him what ser-
vice they can in their station, striving against
sin, acknowledging his goodness to the world,
and even to themselves, that they are yet in
the region of hope, nor cut off in their ini-
quities, thus offering praise and ordering
their conversation aright, submitting unto
him, and giving him glory, their assurances
and comforts, in the measure he thinks fit,
would come in due time, and sooner in this
way than in any other they could take.
Observe these things ; beware of sin, and
ye shall understand the loving-kindness of-
the Lord. It is true, this love of God changes j
not, nor hangs on thy carriage, nor any thing
without itself; yea, all our good hangs on!
it: but know, as to the knowledge and ap-
prehension of it, it depends much on the
holy frame of thy heart, and exact regulation
of thy ways. Sin obstructs and darkens all :
these are the clouds and mists ; and where
any believer is adventurous on the ways of
sin, he shall smart for it. Where sin is,
there will be a storm, as Chrysostom's word
is of Joshua.* The experience of all witness,
eth this : no strength of faith will keep out
floods of doubting and troublous thoughts,
where any novel sin hath opened a gap for
them to rush in by. See David, Ps. li. ex-
pressing himself as if all were to begin again,
his joy taken away, and his bones broken,
and to sense all undone ; nothing will serve
but a new creature. " Create in me a clean
heart, O God, and renew a right spirit with-
in me."
There is a congruity in the thing itself,
and God hath so ordered it, that vexation
and anguish still attend sin, and the ways of
holiness be ways of peace. Say men what
they will, great falls leave wounds and smart
behind them, and they must be washed with
sharper liquor before balm and oil be poured
into them. And not only will more noto-
rious breaches disturb thy peace, but a trac»
of careless and fruitless walking. If thou
abate of thy attendance on God, and thy fear
cool towards him, lagging and falling down-
wards to something you are caring for and
taken with, you shall find an estrangement,
it may be insensible at first and for a while,
because of thy sloth, that thou dost not ob-
serve diligently how it is with thee ; but,
after a time, it shall be more easily known,
but more hardly mended : and there is none
of us but might find much more of God in
this our way homeward, if the foolishness
and wanderings of our hearts did not prevent
us.
Be persuaded, then, you whose hearts he
hath wrought for himself, to attend better on
him, and the advantage shall be yours ; doubt
it not : and though for a time you find it
not, yet wait on, and go on in that way ; it
shall not disappoint you. The more you let
go of the false, vain comforts of the world for
his sake, the more richly you shall be furnish,
ed with his. Oh ! we make not room for
them ; that is the great hinderance. Con-
sider him, behold his works, bless him, con.
fess him always worthy of praise for his good-
ness, and his wonderful works to the chiU
dren of men, however he deal with thee in
p articular ; and assuredly he shall deal gra-
ciously with thee : and ere long thou shalt
find, and be forced to acknowledge it. Though
it may be thou want those bright shinings of
comforts thou wouldest have, yet, looking
to him, and walking before him, observing
these things, thou shalt have of his ligh*
to lead thee on, and a calm within ; sweet
* 0-rcv a4JMt.Tt<t. ixti •x.uaai.
M6
SERMON III.
..eace, though not that height of joy thou de- firming the truth of it. It carries its own
sum in these two words, which begin and end
girest.
There be often calm, fair days without
storms, though it be not so clear sun-shine,
it, that Vanity of vanities, and all is vanity ;
and the other, Fear God and keep his com-
and in such days a man may travel comfort, mandments, that is the whole duty of man :
ably I would have Christians called off [and these here are just the equivalent of these
from a perplexed over-pressing of this point of wo; the former of that beginning word, /
their particular assurance. If we were more
studious to plea*j him, forgetting ourselves,
we should find him remember us the more ;
yet not for this neither, but simply for him-
self. In a word, this is thy wisdom ; mind
thy duty, and refer to him thy comfort.
SERMON III.
PSALM cxix. 96.
f have seen an end of all perfection ; but
thy commandment is exceeding broad.
GRACE is a divine light in the soul, anc
fchews the true colours of thing?. The apos-
tle overshoots not, when he says, The spiri-
tual man judgeth all things. He hath un-
deniably the advantage : he may judge of
natural things, but the natural man cannot
judge of spiritual things ; yea, the truest judg-
ment of natural things, in respect to our
chiefest end, springs particularly from spiri-
tual wisdom : that makes the true parallel of
things, and gives a just account of their dif-
ferences, as here.
/ have seen an end, Sac. All that have
any measure of spiritual light are of this
mind, but certainly they that are more emi-
nently blessed with it, have a more high and
clearer view of both parts. David, who is
generally, and with greatest likelihood, sup-
posed to be the author of this Psalm, was
singularly advantaged to make this judgment
of things : he had, no doubt, a large mea-
sure of the knowledge of God and of his law,
which here he declares to be so large ; and
being both a wise and a great man, might
know more than most others, even of all othei
perfections, trace them to their utmost, and
see their end, as he expresses it. This same
verdict we have from his son Solomon, after
much experience in all things ; who, having
the advantage of peace and riches, did par-
ticularly set himself to this work, to a most
exact inquiry after all things of this earth.
He set nature on the rack, to confess its ut-
most strength, for the delighting and satis-
fying of man ; with much pains and art ex-
tracted the very spirits of all, and after al]
gives the same judgment we have here ; his
book writ on that subject being a paraphrase
on this sentence, dilating the sense, and con-
have seen an end of all perfection ; and the
atter of that, But thy commandment is ex-
ceeding broad. And when mean men speak
of this world's greatness, and poor men cry
down riches, it passes but for a querulous,
peevish humour, to discredit things they
cannot reach, or else an ignorant contempt
of things they do not understand ; or, tak-
ing it a little further, but a self-pleasing
shift, willingly underprizing these things of
purpose, to allay the displeasure of the want
of them ; or at the best, if something of truth
and goodness be in the opinion, yet that the
assent of such persons is (as the temperance
of sickly bodies) rather a virtue made of ne-
cessity, than embraced of free choice. But
to hear a wise man, in the height of these ad-
vantages, proclaim their vanity, yea, kings
from their very thrones whereon they git, in
their royal robes, to give forth this sentence
upon all the glories and delights about them,
is certainly above all exception. Here are
:wo, the father and the son ; the one raised
from a mean condition to the crown ; instead
of a shepherd's staff, to wield a sceptre, and
that after many afflictions and dangers in the
way to it, which to some palates gives a high-
er relish and sweetness to honour, than if it
bad slid on them ere they could feel it, in the
cheap, easy way of undoubted succession : or
if any think David's best days a little cloudy
by the remains of insurrections and opposi-
tions, in that case usual, as the jumbling of
the water not fully quieted for a while after
the same is over ; then take the son, succeed-
ing to as fair a day as heart Can wish, both a
complete calm of peace and bright sun-shine
of riches and regal pomp ; (and lie able to
improve these to the highest ;) and yet both
these are perfectly of the same mind in this
great point. The son, having peace and
time for it, though a king, would make his
throne a pulpit, and be a preacher of this one
doctrine, to which the father's sentence is the
fittest text I have seen.
The words give an account of a double
prospect ; the latter, as it were, the discovery
of a new world after the travelling over the
old, expressed in, the former clause — / have
seen an end of all perfection, i. e. taken an
exact view of all other things, and seen theii
end ; but Thy commandment is of exceed-
ing extent and perfection, and I see but a
part, and there is no end of it.
/ have seen an end. I have tried and
made experiment of much of what this world
affords, and the rest I see to the uttermost of
it, how far it reaches. The Psalmist, as
SERMON III.
617
standing on a vantage ground, sees clearly
round about him the farthest horizon of earth.
)y excellencies and advantages, and finds
them not to be infinite or immeasurable ;
sees that they are bounded, yea, what their
bounds are, how far they go at their very
farthest, an end of all, even perfection ; and
fhis is in effect what I find, that their end drops
short of satisfaction. A man may think and
desire beyond them, yea, not only may, but
must ; he cannot be terminated by their
bounds, will still have a stretch further, and
feels them leave him, and then finds a void.
All which he says most ponderously in these
short words ; giving the world the slight
thus : " It is not so great a matter as men
imagine it ; the best of it I have examined,
and considered it to the full, taken the whole
dimension. All the profits and pleasures
under the sun, their utmost goes but a short
way ; the soul is vaster than all, can look
and go much farther."
I will not attempt the particulars, to
reckon all, or be large in any ; the preacher
Solomon hath done this matchlessly, and
who is he thai can come after the king 1
If any be sick of that poor disease, esteem of
riches, he can tell you the utmost of these,
that when they increase, they are increased
that eat them, and what good is to the
owners thereof, save the beholding of them
with their eyes ? Yea, locking them up, and
not using them, and still gathering, and all
•c no use ; this is a madness, it is all one a&
if they were still in the mines under the
ground, and the difference none, but in tur-
moiling pains in gathering, aaa tormenting
care in keeping. But take the best view of
them, supposing that they be used, t. e. spent
on famil} and retinue ; why, then, what
hath the owner but the sight of them for
imself? Of all his dishes, he fills but one
dly ; of all his fair houses, and richly-fur-
ished rooms, he lodges but in one at once :
nd if his great rent be needful for his great
train, or any other ways of expense, is it an
dvantage to need much ? Or is he not ra-
ler poorei that needs five or six thousand
xninds a year, than he that needs but one
undred ?
Of all the festivities of the world, and de-
ights of sense, the result is, laughter is mad;
and mirth, and orchards, and music, these
(lings pass away as a dream, and as still to
>egin ; and so gross and earthly are they,
hat for the beasts they may be a fit good ;
or the divine immortal soul they cannot,
horse lying at ease in a fat pasture may
be compared with those that take delight in
them.
Honour and esteem are yet vainer than
hose pleasures and riches that furnish them.
Though they be nothing but wind, compared
•jo solid soul-delights ; yet as to nature, there
s in them somewhat more rpal than in the
fame of honour, which is no more indeed
than an airy, imaginary thing, and hangs
more on others than any thing else, and not
only on persons above them, but even those
below ; especially that kind, that the vanity
of man is much taken with, all popular opi-
nion, than which there is nothing more light
and poor, and that is more despised by the
elevated sort of natural spirits ; a thing as
unworthy as it is inconsistent. No slavery
like the affectingof vulgar esteem ; it enthrals
the mind to all sorts ; often the worthiest
share least in it, Eccles. ix. 11 — 15. True
worth is but sometimes honoured, but always
envied, Eccles. iv. 4. And with whomso-
ever it is thou seekest to be esteemed, be it
with the multitude, or more chiefly with the
wiser and better sort, what a narrow thing is
it at largest ! How many nations know
neither thee, nor those that know thee !
Beyond all these things is inward worth,
and even that natural wisdom, such as some
minds have, to a far more refined height than
others ; a man by it sees round about him,
yea, and within himself. That Solomon
grants to be an excellent thing, (iv. 13,) yet
presently finds the end of that perfection (ver.
16). That guards not from disasters and
vexations ; yea, there is in it an innate grief,
amidst so many follies (vii. 18). Yea,
give a man the confluence of all these, which
is so rare, make him at once rich and honour
able and healthful, and encompassed with all
the dgelihts of nature and art, and wise, to
make the best improvement of all they can well
afford, and there is much in that ; yet there
i* an end of all these perfections ; for there
is quickly an end of himself that hath them ,
he dies, and that spoils all ; death breaks the
strings, and that ends the music. And the
highest of natural wisdom, which is the soul
of all nature's advantages, that ends then, if
practical or political. In that day are all
state projects and high thoughts laid low, if
speculative ; for in spite of all sciences and
knowledge of nature, a man goes out in the
dark ; and if thou art learned in many lan-
guages, one death silences all thy tongues at
once. So Solomon, Eccles. ii. 16. Yea,
suppose a man were not broke off, but conti-
nued still in the top of all these perfections ;
yea, imagine much more, the chiefest delights
of sense that have ever been found out, more
solid and certain knowledge of nature's secrets,
all moral composure of spirit, the highest do-
minion, not only over men, but a deputed
command over nature's frame, the course of
all the heavens, the affairs of all the earth,
and that he was to abide in this estate ; yet
would he see a /i end of this perfection, that
is, it would come short of making him happy.
It is an union with a higher good by that love
that subjects all things to him, that alone is
the endless perfection : Thy commandment it
exceeding broad.
518
SERMON III.
You may think this a beaten subject, and
possibly some other cases or questions fitter
for Christians. I wish it were more needless.
But oh, the deceitfulness of our hearts ! Even
such as have shut out the vanities of this
world at the fore- gate, let them in again, or
some part of them at least, at the postern.
Few hearts clearly come off untied from all,
still lagging after somewhat ; and thence so
little delight in God, in prayer, and holy
things. And though there be no fixed es-
teem of other things, yet that indisposedness
to holy ways, argues some sickly humour
latent in the soul, and therefore this is almost
generally needful, that men be called to con-
sider what they seek after. Amidst all thy
pursuits, stop and ask thy soul, For what end
is all this ? At what do I aim ? For, sure
by men's heat in these lower things, and their
cold indifference for heaven, it would seem
we take our portion to be here : but, oh !
miserable portion at the best. Oh, short-
lived happiness ! Look on them, and learn
to see this the end of all perfections ; and have
an eye beyond them, till your hearts be well
weaned from all things under the sun. Oh,
there is little acquaintance with the things
that are above it, little love of them ; stil]
some pretensions, some hopes that flatter us —
I will attain this or that ; and then — Then
what ? What if this night, thoufool, thy
soul shall be required of thee ?
But thy commandment.. The former part
of this sentence hath within every man's breast
somewhat to suit with it and own it. Readi-
ly each man according to his experience, anc
the capacity of his soul, hath his sense (i:
awake) of the unsatisfactoriness of all this
world ; give him what thou wilt, yet stil"
there is empty room within, and a pain in
that emptiness, and so vexation ; a torment-
ing windiness in all. And men of more con-
templative minds have higher and clearer
thoughts of this argument and matter, anc
may rise to a very high moral contempt o:
the world, and some of them have done so
But this other part is more sublime, and pe-
culiar to a divine illumination ; that which
we find not without, we would have within
and work out of ourselves, which cannot b<
extracted from things about us. Philosophj
is much on this, but it is upon a false scent
and still deluded : no, it is without us ; no
within us, but above us ; that fulness is in
God, and no communion with him, or enjoy
ment of him, but in the way of his command,
ment ; therefore this is the discovery tha
answers and satisfies — Thy commandmen,
is exceeding broad. Commandment: hi
speaks of all as one, I conceive, for tha
tie and connexion of them all, — he that breaks
one, is guilty of all. A rule they are, anc
so are one, as a rule must be : one authority
through all ; that is the golden thread the
•re strung on ; break that any where, and al
he pearls drop off. Then shall I not be
ashamed, when I have respect to all thy
commandments ; otherwise one piece shames
another, like uneven and incongruous ways ;
,he legs of the lame, not being even, make an
unseemly going. And as it is here, so a
jlural word is joined with the singular, ver.
137, and Psalm cxxxii. : Deum tradunt
Hebrcei, una voce, eloquio uno, hoc est, uno
spirilu et halitu, sine ulla inter spiratione,
mora, pausa, vel distinctione, ila ut omnia
verba, tanquam verbum unum, et vox una,
fuerant, elocutum. Atque hinc volunt
duplicem illam acccntuum rationem in De~
caloffo ortam, ut altera una, ilia Dei conti-
nuata elocutio, altera hominum tarda et
disfincla, judicetur.
And it is fitly here spoken of as one, op-
posed to all varieties and multitudes of things
besides. Thy commandment, each linked
to one another ; and that one chain reaches
beyond all the incoherent perfections in the
world, if one were added to another, and
drawn to a length. This commandment it
exceeding broad ; the very breadth immense,
and therefore the length must be much more
so ; no end of it. That good to which it
leads and joins the soul, is enough for it ;
complete and full in its nature, and endless
in its continuance : so that there is no mea-
suring, no end of it any way ; but all other
perfections have their bounds of being and
period of duration : so each way an end is to
be found of them. Now, in this the opposi-
tion is the more admirable, that he speaks
not expressly of the enjoyment of God, but
of the commandment of God : he extols that
above all the perfections of the world ; which
is much to be remarked, as having in it a
clear character of the purest and highest love.
It had been more obvious to all, had he said,
" I have seen the utmost of all besides thee ;
but thou, O God, the lightof thy countenance,
the blessed vision of thy face, that alone is
boundless and endless happiness :" or to
have taken it below the full, perfect enjoy-
ment of glory, but some glances let into the
soul here, a comfortable word from God, a
look of love, oh, how far surpassing all the
continued caresses and delights of the world !
He speaks not of that neither, but thy com-
mandment is exceeding broad. As the apostle
says, The foolishness of God is wiser than
men's wisdom, 1 Cor. i. 25. So here, that
of God, which seems lowest and hardest, is
infinitely beyond whatsoever is highest and
sweetest in the world ; the obeying of his
commands, his very service, is more profita.
ble than the world's rewards ; his commands
more excellent than the perfection of the
world's enjoyments : to be subject to him is
truer happiness than to command the whole
world. Pure love reckons thus : " Though
no further reward were to follow, obedience
to God (the perfection of his creature, and
SERMON IIL
5 If)
Its very happiness) carries its full recompence
in its own bosom." Yea, love delights most in
the hardest services. It is self-love to love
the embraces and rest of love, but it is love
to him indeed to love the labour of love, and
the service of it ; and that not so much be-
cause it leads to rest and ends in it, but be-
cause it is service to him whom we love. Yea,
that labour is in itself a rest ; it is so natural
and sweet to z soul that loves. As the revo-
lution of the heavens, which is a motion in
rest, and rest in motion, changes not place,
though running still ; so the motion of love
is truly heavenly, and circular still in God ;
beginning in him, and ending in him, and
so not ending, but still moving without wea-
riness.
Let us see what the commandment is, and
that will clear it ; for it is nothing but love :
all is in that one, Love the Lord, &c. So the
command that is here called so broad, is love ;
there is no measuring that, for its object is
immeasurable. We readily exceed in the
love of any other thing ; but in the love of
God, there is no danger of exceeding ; its true
measure is to know no measure.
According as the love is, so is the soul ; it
is made like to, yea, t is made one with that
which it loves. By loving gross, base things,
it becomes gross, and turns to flesh or earth ;
and so, by the love of God, is made divine,
is one with him.* So this is the excellency of
the command enjoining love. God hath a
good-will to all his creatures ; but that he
should make a creature capable of loving him,
and appoint this for his command, oh, herein
his goodness shines brightest. Now, though
fallen from this, we are again invited to it ;
though degenerated and accursed in our sin-
ful nature, yet we are renewed in Christ, and
this command is renewed in him, and a new
way of fulfilling it is pointed out.
This command is broad ; there is room
enough for the soul in God, that is hampered
and pinched in all other things. Here, lore
with all thy soul, with all thy mind, &c.,
stretch it to the utmost ; there is enough for it
here ; it must contract and draw itself to other
things. / will walk at liberty, says David,
for I seek thy precepts : that which perverse
nature judges thraldom, once truly known, is
only freedom ; this is because the law is love,
and such a love as brings full content to the
soul. Man hath not an object of love be-
sides God ; too many that can torment anc
trouole him, but not one that by being lovec
of him, satisfies and quiets him. Whether
he loves things without him, or himself,
still he is joined and restless. All other
things he loves naturally, in reference to him-
self ; but himself is not a sufficient object for
him : : must be something that adds to, am
perfects his nature, to which he must be unite<
» SI terrain amas, terra es ; si Deiim amas, quii
vis ut dicam, Dcus es ? AUOPSTINE.
n love ; somewhat higher than himself, yea,
he highest of all, the Father of spirits : that
ilone completes a spirit and blesses it, to love
lim, the spring of spirits.
Now, this love, as obedience to his com-
mands, is a thing in itself due, and expressly
commanded too. This is the thing that
surpasses all pursuits and all enjoyments
under heaven, not only to be loved of God,
)ut to love him ; yea, could they be severed,
his rather would be the defonnitv and misery
of the creature, to hate him. This is the
hell of hell.
And to love him, not only with compla-
cency, a desire to enjoy him, but, moreover,
wishing him glory, doing him se vice, desir-
ng he may be honoured by all his creatures,
and endeavouring ourselves to honour him,
that is our work ; applauding the praises of
angels and all creatures, and adding ours,
Psalm ciii. 22, sweet, willing, entire submis-
sion to his will, ready to do, to suffer any
thing for him. Oh ! away all base, muddy
pleasures, all false night-shows of earthly glo-
ries, all high attempts and heroic virtues ;
these have their measure and their close,
and prove in the end but lies. This com.
mand, this love alone, is the endless perfec-
tion and delight of souls, that begins here,
and is completed above. The happiness of
jlory is the perfection of holiness ; that is the
?ull beauty and loveliness of the spouse, the
Lamb's wife.
Oh, how much are the multitudes of men
to be pitied, that are hunting they know not
what, still pursuing content, and it still fly-
ng before, and they at as great a distance
as when they promised themselves to lay hold
on it f It is strange what men are doing.
Ephraim feedeth on the wind. The most
serious designs of men are more foolish than
the plays of children ; all the difference is,
that these are sourer and more sad trifles.*
Oh ! that ye would turn this way, and not
still lay out your money for that which it
not bread, &c. You would find the saddest
part of a spiritual course of life hath under it
moie true sweetness than all your empty
mirths, that sound much, and are nothing,
like the crackling of thorns under the pot.
There is more joy in enduring a cross for
God, than in the smiles of the world ; in a
private, despised affliction, withou' the name
of suffering for his cause, or any thing in it
like martyrdom, but only as coming from his
hand, kissing it, and bearing it patiently,
yea gladly, for his sake, out of love to him,
because it is his will so to try thee. What
can come amiss to a soul thus composed ?
I wish that even they who have renounced
the vain world, and have the faces of their
hearts turned God-wards, would learn morn
this happy life, and enjoy it more, not to
hang so much upon sensible comforts, as tq
» Tristes ineptiaj.
S20
SERMON IV.
delight in obedience, and to wait for those at
his pleasure, whither he gives much or little,
any or none. Learn to be still finding the
gweetness of his commands, which no out-
ward or inward change can disrelish ; rejoic-
ing in the actings of that divine love within
thee. Continue thy conflicts with sin, and
though thou mayest at times be foiled, yet
cry to him for help ; and, getting up, re-
double thy hatred of it, and attempts against
it. Still stir this flame of God ; that will
overcome : Many wafers cannot quench it.
It is a renewed pleasure to be offering up
thyself every day to God. Oh ! the sweet-
est life in the world, to be crossing thyself,
to please him ; trampling on thy own will,
to follow his.
SERMON IV.
HABAKKUK iii. 17, 18.
Although the fig-tree shall not blossom,
neither shall fruit be in the vines ; the
labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields
shall yield no meat ; the flock shall be cut
off from the fold, and there shall be no
herd in the stalls : yet I will rejoice in
the Lord, I will joy in the God of my
salvation.
MOST men's industries and employments
are most without them, but certainly our
main and worthiest business lies within us ;
nor is ever a man fit for the varieties and
vicissitudes of time and affairs without, till
he have taken some pains to some good pur-
pose within himself. A distempered, dis-
composed mind, is a limb out of joint, which
is fit for no action, and moves both deform-
edly and painfully. That which we have to
do, my brethren, for which these our meet-
ings are commanded of God, and should be
attended by us, and that we should follow
out when we are gone from hence, is this—
the reducing of our souls to God. Their
disunion from him is their disjointing, and
they are never right till they fix on him ; and
being there, they are so right that nothing
can come wrong to them. As they are not
readily ensnared with ease and plenty, so
neither lightly astonished with want and
trouble ; but, in the ebb of all other com.
forts, can hold the prophet's purpose — to joy
in the Lord, and rejoice in the God of their
»alvation.
This we may hear and speak of, but truly
few attain it. I fear many of us are not so
much as seeking after it, and aspiring to it.
A soul really conversant with God is taken
up with him ; all its affections work and
move towards him, as the prophet's here ;
his fear, his joy, his trust, vers. 16 — 19.
This is a prayer, as it is entitled, but it is
both a prophetical and an unusual one ; a
prophecy and a song (as the word added
imports) of Habakkuk the prophet, on Ne-
ginoth. The strain of it is high, and full
of sudden raptures and changes, as that word
signifies ; as here, having expressed much
fear in the foregoing words, a shivering,
trembling horror, yet adds such a height of
an invincible kind of joy ; like the needle of
the compass, fixedly looking towards him,
yet not without a trembling motion. Thus,
we have the temper of the Psalmist, rejoice
with trembling ; which suits well to so sub-
lime an object ; joying in God, because he
is good, yet joy still mixed with holy awe,
because he is great : and this especially in
time of great judgments, or in the lively ap-
prehensions or representations of them, whe-
ther before or after their infliction ; whether
they be on the people of God for their ini-
quities, or on the enemies of God for their
oppressions and cmelties to his people, while
he made them instruments for their correc-
tion. In both, God is formidable, and great-
ly to be feared, even by those that are near-
est to him. This we find in the prophets'
seeing judgment afar off, long before their
day, which they had commission to denounce:
so this prophet here, not only discovers greaf
awe and fear at what he saw and foretold
concerning God's own people, the Jews, but
at the after-reckoning with the Chaldeans,
his and their enemies. When God comes
to do judgment on the wicked, this will
make them that stand by, and suffer not
with them, yet to tremble ; yea, such as are
advantaged by it, as usually the people of
God are, their enemies' ruin proving their
deliverance. The majesty and greatness
of God, and terribleness of his march to-
wards them, and seizing on them, as it is nerr
highly set forth, this works an awful fear in
the hearts of his own children. They can-
not see their Father angry but it makes them
quake, though it be not against them, but
on their behalf. And this were our right
temper, when we see or hear of the hand
of God against wicked men, that run
their own courses against all warning —
not to entertain these things with carnal re-
joicings and lightness of mind, or with boast-
ing insultations ; to applaud indeed the
righteousness of God, and to give him his
glory ; but withal, to fear before him,
though they were strangers, and no way a
part of ourselves, and to have a humble sense
of the Lord's dealing in it, (so Psalm Iii.
6,) and to learn to reverence God ; in all
our ways to acknowledge him ; to be sure
to take him along with us, and to undertake
nothing without him.
And this fear of judgments in others is
SERMON IV.
521
the way not to feel them ourselves. When
God sees that the sound of the rod on other's
backs will humble a soul or a people, he
will spare the stroke of it. They that have
most of this holy fear of God's anger, fall
least under the dint of it. Blessed is he
thalfeareth always ; but he that hardens
his hear', shall fall into mischief. He
that fears it not, shall fall into it ; he that
fears and trembles at it, shall escape : so the
ing them than by having them, and take
more notice of that hand that hath power of
them, when he withdraws, than when he
bestows them.
Besides all other provocations and parti-
cular abuses of these things in intemperance
and luxury, were it no more but the very
disacknowledging of God, the inobservance
of his goodness, this calls for a famine, to
diet us into wiser thoughts, and remind us
prophet here trusts for himself, / tremble in of our own and all other creatures' depend-
myself, that I might rest in the day of
trouble, ver. 16 ; and, upon his confidence,
rises to this high resolution — Yet I will re-
joice, &c.
The words, to make no other division of
them, are a conjecture of a sad supposition,
and a cheerful position or purpose.
Although the fig-tree, &c. This is a
thing that may come, and, possibly, which
the prophet did foresee would come, amongst
other judgments ; and it is of all other out-
ence on that God whom we so forget, as to
serve our idols and base lusts upon his boun-
ty. This was the case of Judah and Israel,
Hos. ii. 8 — 13 ; but when more sparingly
fed, and better taught in the wilderness, these
were restored (vers. 14, 15,) then all ac-
knowledge the dowry of that blessed mar-
riage with himself, (ver. 16,) which is so
far beyond all account.
How wretched ingratitude is it, not to re-
gard and love him in the use of all his mer-
ward scourges the sorest, most smarting, | cies ! but it is horrid stupidity, not to
and most sweeping ; cuts off most people, j consider and seek to him in their with,
and can least be suffered and shifted. It | drawment, or the threatening of it. Few have
lieth amongst the rest in the store-house of a right sense of his hand in any thing : they
divine judgments. He that furnished the j grumble and cry out, but not to him. As
earth, and gave being by the word of his of oppression, Job xxxv. 9, 10, so of this
mouth to all these things, hath still the sole, ! very judgment of famine, Hos. vii. 14,
absolute power of them ; they obey his word Ephraim howled, and cried not to me, did
»f command; and, rightly looked upon, in not humbly and repentingly seek to me by
our use of them, and the sweetness we find 'prayer; but a natural brutish sense of thei1
in them, lead us to him, as the spring ! wants pressed out complaints. They howled,
of being and goodness. He is invisible [ as a hungry dog would do for bread : this>
in his nature ; in his works most visible
and legible : not only the spacious hea-
vens and glorious lights in them, but the
meanest things on earth — every plant and
flower, in their being and growing, yea, every
blade of grass, declare God to us.
And it is supernatural delight in natural
things, to see and taste him in them. It is
more pleasant than their natural relish : it is
the chief inner sweetness, the kerne] and mar-
row of all ; and they that take not the pains,
and have not the skill to draw it forth, lose
the far better half of their enjoyments, even
of the things of this earth. To think how
wise he is that devised such a frame, how
powerful that made all these things, how
rich must he be that still continues to fur-
nish the earth with these varieties of provi-
sions, how sweet must he be, whence all
these things draw their sweetness ! But,
alas ! we are brutish, and in our use of these
things we differ little or nothing fr>m the
beasts. We are called to a higher life, but
we live it not. Man is in honour, but he
understands it not ; he is as the beast that
perishes. Now, because we acknowledge
God so little in the use of these things,
therefore he is put to it (so to speak) to teach
us our lesson in the want and deprivation of
them, which our dulness is more sensible of.
We know things a great deal better bv want-
is all the most do, in years of dearth^ of
harvest threatening it. No beast in the
mountain or wilderness is so untamed as the
heart of man, which, when catched in God's
judgments, lies and cries as a wild bull in a
net. It is true, they are somewhat nearer
sober thoughts in distress and grief; though
natural, yet nearer spiritual grief, than their
mirth and laughter ; but it must have a touch
of that spirit above, to make it spiritual, to
make it change to gold, to tuni it to godly
sorrow. No scourge carries a power of
changing the heart with it ; that is a super-
added work. Many people, and particular
persons, have been beat as in a mortar with
variety of afflictions, one coming thick upon
another, and yet are never the wiser, and yet
have not returned unto me, saith theLord.
Therefore, if you be afflicted, join prayer
with your correction ; and beg by it, that
God would join his Spirit with it : seek this
in earnest, else you shall be not a whit the
better, but shall still endure the smart, and
not reap the fruit thereof ; yea, I believe,
some are the worse, even by falsely imagin-
ing they are better, partly presuming it must
be so, and partly, may be, feeling some pre-
sent motions and meltings in the time of
afflictions, which evanish and presently cool
when they are off the fire. Ay, but these
two together make a happy man : Blessed
522
SER3ION IV.
i* he whom thou corrrectcst, and teachest
out of thy law.
Although the fig-tree shall not blossom.
This sometimes does, and at any time may
bcfal a land ; but, however, it is very useful
to put such cases. It is true, there are great
odds betwixt real and imagined distresses ;
yet, certainly, the frequent viewing of its
picture, though it is no more in thy imagi-
nation, hath so much likeness, as somewhat
abates the strangeness and frightfulness of
its true visage, when it comes.
• There is a foolish pre-apprehension of pos-
sible evils, that, whether they come or no,
does no good, but makes evil to come per-
plexingly befVe-hand, and antedates their
misery, and adds the pain of many others
that will never come. These are the fumes
of a dark, distempering humour, vain fears
that vex and trouble some minds at pre-
sent, and do not waste any thing of any grief
to come after. But calmly and composedly
to sit down and consider evil days coming,
any kind of trials that probably, yea, or possi-
bly, may arrive, so as to be ready to entertain
them without astonishment ; this is a wise
and useful exercise of thy mind, and takes
off much of the weight of such things, breaks
them in falling on us, that they come not so
sad down, when they light first upon the ap-
prehension. Thus, it is true, nothing conies
unawares to a wise man : he hath supposed
all, or as bad as any thing that can come,
hath acquainted his mind with the horridest
shapes, and therefore, when such things ap-
pear, will not so readily start at them.
This I would advise to be done, not only
in things we can more easily suffer, but those
we think would prove hardest and most indi-
gestible, to inure thy heart to them ; not to
be, as some, so tender-fancied, that they dare
not so much as think of some things — the
death of a dear friend, or husband, or wife,
or child. That is oftener to be viewed
rather than any other event. Bring thy
mind to it, as a starting horse to that where-
at it does most startle — What if I should be
bereft of such a person, such a thing ? This
would make it much more tolerable when
thou art put to it. What if the place where
I live were visited with all at once in some
degree — pestilence, and sword, and famine ?
How should I look on them ? Could my
mind keep its own place and stand, fixed on
God in such a case ? What if I were turned
out of my good furniture and warm house,
and stript not only of accessory but necessary
things ; (as here he supposes, not only the
failing of delicacies, the fig-trees, wine and
olives, but of common necessary food, the
fields not yielding meat, and the flocks cut
oft*;) my little ones crying for bread, and I
had none for them ? You little know what
the tenderest and delicatest among you may
be put to. These times have given many
real instances, within these kingdoms, of
strange changes in the condition of ranks of
persons. Or think, if thou abhorrest that,
What if I were smitten with blotches or loath,
some sores on my flesh ; or if by any accident
I should lose an arm, or an uye, or both eyes ?
What if extreme poverty, and sickness, and
forsaking of friends, come all at once ?
Could I welcome these, and make up all in
God, find riches, and friends, and fulness in
him ? Most men, if they would speak truly
to such Cases, must declare them insufferable.
I were undone, if such a thing befel me, or
such a comfort were taken from me, most
would cry out; as Micah did, Judg. xviii.24,
They have taken away my gods, &c. ; for
so are these things ; our hearts cleave to, and
principally joy in them. He that worships
mammon, his purse is the most sensible piece
of him : he is broke, if fire, or other ravage
of war, throw him out of his nest, and empty
it. He that makes his belly his God, (such
they are the apostle speaks of,) how could he
endure this case the prophet puts here, the
failing of vines, of flocks and herds ?
It were good to add to the supposition of
want somewhat of the reality of it ; some-
times to abridge thyself of things thou de-
sirest and lovest ; to inure thy appetite to a
refusal of what it calls for ; to practise some,
what of poverty ; to learn to need few things,
&c.
It is strange men should be so foolish as
to tie themselves to these things, that have
neither satisfying content in them, nor certain
abode. And why shouldest thou set thy
heart on things which are not, (says Solo-
mon,) a non-ens, a fancy ? How soon may
you be parted ! He that is the true God,
God alone, how soon can he pull these false
gods from you, or ycu from them ; as in that
word, Job xxvii. 8, What is the hope of the
hypocrite that he hath gained, w/ten God
takes away his soul ? Like that case in the
parable, Luke xii. 19, Soul, take thy rest:
a strange inference from full barns ! That
was sufficient provision for a horse, a fit hap-
piness for him : but for a soul, though it
were to stay, how gross and base a portion !
But it cannot stay neither — This night thy
soul shall be required of thee, &c.
The only firm position is this of the pro-
phet, Yet will I rejoice in the Lord. And
snch times indeed are fit to give proof of this ;
to tell thee, whether it be so indeed, where
thy heart is built. While thy honour, and
wealth, and friends, are about thee, it is h«d
to know whether these props bear thee up, cr
another invisible supporter ; but when these
are plucked away, and thou art destitute
round about, then it will appear if thy strength
be in God, if these other things were but
flourishes about thee, and thou laidst no
weight on them at all : he that leans on these
must fall when these fall, and his hope is aut
SERMON IV.
623
off", and his trust as a spider's web. He
shall lean upon his house, but it shall not
stand, &c. Job viii. 14, 15. They that
clasp their hearts about their houses or es-
tates, within a while they are either sadly
pulled asunder, or swept away together.
But O ! the blessed, the high condition of
a soul set on God, untied, independent from
all things besides him ; its whole dependence
and rest placed on him alone, sitting loose to
all the world, and so not stirred with altera-
tions ! Yea, the turnings upside down of
human things, if the frame of the heaven and
earth were fallen to pieces,* the heart found-
ed on him that made it, abides unmoved ;
the everlasting arms are under it, and bear
it up.
Do you believe, my brethren, that there is
such a thing, that it is no fancy ? Yea, all
is but fancy besides it. Do you believe ?
Why then is one day after another put off,
and this not attained, nor the soul so much
as entered or engaged to a serious endeavour
after it, looking on all things else, compared
to this noble design, as vanity ? How often
and easily are their joys damped, who rejoice
in other things, their hopes broken ! What
they expected most, soon proves a lie, as the
word spoken of the olive here signifies, as if
the labour of it should lie ;-f a fair vintage
or harvest promised, and either withered with
drought or drowned with rain : indeed it lies
at the best. But the soul that places its joy
in God, is still fresh and green, when all are
withered about it, Jer. xvii. 75 8. Acquaint
thyself with him betimes in ease. It is a
sad case, to have to make' acquaintance with
him, when thou shouldest most make use of
friendship, and find comfort in his love.
' Now this joy in God cannot remain in an
impure, unholy soul, no more than heaven
and hell can mix together. An impure, un-
holy soul, I call not that which is stained with
sin, for no other are under the sun ; all must
then quit all pretensions to that estate ; but
such an one as willingly entertains and de-
lights in any sinful lust or way of wicked-
ness : that delight and this are directly op-
posite. And certainly the more the soul is
refined from all delights of sin, yea, even
from sinless delights of sense and of this
present world, it hath the more capacity, the
fitter and the larger room for this pure heaven-
ly delight.
No language can make a natural man
understand what this thing is — to rejoice in
God. Oh ! it is a mystery. Most mind
poor, childish things, laughing and crying
xt a breath at trifles, easily puffed up, and
as easily cast down ; but even the children
of God are too little acquainted with this
their portion. Which of you find this powei
in the remembrance of God, that it doth over-
flow and drown all other things, both your
• SI fiactus fllabatur orbis. t Spw mnitift segrs.
worldly joys and worldly sorrows, • that you
find them uot ? And thus it would be if we
knew him. Is he then our Father, and yet
we know him not ?
Although all fail, yet rejoice in him that
fails not, that alters not ; he is still the same
in himself, and to the sense of the soul that
is knit to him ; then sweetest, when the
world is bitterest. When other comforts arc
withdrawn, the loss of them brings this great
gain — so much the more of God, and his
love imparted, to make all up. They that
ever found this, could almost wish for things
that others are afraid of. If we knew how
to improve them, his sharpest visits would
be his sweetest ; thou wouldest be glad to
catch a kiss of his hand, while he is beating
thee, or pulling away something from thee
that thou lovest, and bless him while he is
doing so.
Rejoice in God, although the fig-tree
blossom not, &c. Yea, rejoice in these hard-
est things, as his doings. A heart rejoicing
in him, delights in all his will, and is surely
providing for the most firm joy in all estates ;
for if nothing can come to pass besides or
against his will, then cannot that soul be
vexed that delights in him, and hath no will
but his, but follows him in all times, in all
estates ; not only when he shines bright on
them, but when they are clouded. That
flower that follows the sun, doth so even
in cloudy days ; when it doth not shine
forth, yet it follows the hidden course and
motion of it : so the soul that moves after
God, keeps that course when he hides his
face, is content, yea, is glad at Ids will in all
estates, or conditions, or events. And though
not only all be withered and blasted without,
but the face of the soul little better within to
sense, no flourishing of graces for the present,
yet it rejoices in him, and in that everlasting
covenant that still holds, ordered in all things
and sure, as the sweet singer of Israel sweet-
ly expresses it, 2 Sam. xxv. 5. For this,
says he, is all my salvation, and all my
desire, although he make it not to grow.
That is a strange although, and yet he is
satisfied even in that.
This joy in God, as my God, the God of
my salvation, ought to exercise the soul in the
darkest and worst times, and ought to stick
to it, not to let go this confidence ; still ex-
pecting salvation from him, and resting on
him for it, though not having those senses
and assurances that thou desirest. This,
weak believers are easily beaten from by
temptation ; but we are to stand to our right
in him, even when we see it not : and when
it is said to thee, as Psalm iii. 2, that there
is no help for thee in God, tell all that say
so, they lie ; He is my God, my glory, and
the lifter up of my head, as he here speaks.
Rejoice in him still as thy God ; and,
however, rejoice in him as God. I will re.
t.24
SERMON V.
ioice in Jehovah, glad that he is God, that
his enemies cannot unsettle nor reach his
throne ; that he rules, and is glorious in all
things ; that he is self-blessed, and needs
nothing : this is the purest and highest kind
of rejoicing in him, and is certainly most dis-
tant and most free from alteration, a-d hath
indeed most of heaven in it.
SERMON V.
1 COR. i. 30.
But of him are ye in Christ Jesus, who of
God is made unto us wisdom, righteous-
ness, sanctification and redemption.
THE great design of the gospel is to bring
men to Jesus Christ ; and, next to that, to
instruct those that are brought to him in the
clearest knowledge, and to keep them in the
fresh remembrance of the privileges and hap.
piness they have in him. This the apostles,
writing to new converts, are much on, and
Paul most abundantly ; but no where more
excellently and fully than in these words.
As that is a great and much -commended
oracle, yiufa atuvrai, (know thyself,) so also
there can be nothing more comfortable and
profitable for a Christian than this point, to
understand his new being, to know himself
as out of himself in Christ, to study what he
is there. Oh ! what joy, what humility,
what holiness would it work, were we well
seen and much conversant in this subject,
viewing ourselves in this light as here the
apostle represents a believer to himself, Of
him are ye in Christ Jesus, &c.
If we look back a little, we see his aim is
to vindicate the doctrine of Christ from con-
in that chief point which is the great-
est comfort and glory, yet lies openest to the
world's contempt, the doctrine of the cross,
Christ crucified. Him we preach, says he,
let men take it as they please ; be he a stumb-
ling-block to the Jews, and foolishness to the
Gentiles, yet, to them that believe, among
both, he is the power of God, and wisdom of
God.
As in the person of Christ, glory was
wrapped up in meanness ; so in his suffer-
ings and death: and the doctrine of it,
and in the way of preaching it, they are not
dressed with human wisdom, or excellency
of speech. This would be as incongruous as
that rich gaudy attire they cover the image
of the virgin with, and her child lying in a
stable. And that all might be suitable, so
is it in the persons of those that believe on
him. Brethren, you see your calling, &c. ;
and God's purpose in this is, that noflcsk
should glory before him.
This is the grand disease of flesh,to swell
in conceit of any little advantages, real or
imagined, forgetting itself and him from
whom it receives all, receives its very self,
the being it hath, and all superaddcd good.
Now, God is pleased, injustice on some, and
great mercy to others, so to order most things
in the world as to allay this tumour ; often
bringing down high things, and raising low ;
and so attempering and levelling disparities,
as to take men off from self-glorying. Proud
undertakings, we see, are commonly most
disgracefully broken. Nor is there any surer
presage of the speedy ruin of any affidrs or
persons, than presumptuous boasting. This is
God's work amongst men, as even natural men
have observed, to abase high thii gs, to exalt
low things ; he goes from one thing to an-
other, pulling down the crest, and blasting the
glory of all human excellency, breaking the
likeliest projects, and effecting what is least to
be expected, withdrawing man from his pur-
pose to hide pride from his eyes, as Elihu
speaks, Job xxxiii. 17- To this purpose, set
Job x. 11, 12; 1 Sam. ii. 4, 5; and the virgin
in her song, Luke i. 51, 52. Whatsoever
men bear themselves big upon, and begin to
glory in, they call the hand of God to crush
it, raising an idol of jealousy in his sight.
All high things have their day ; the day of
the Lord on all the cedars of Lebanon, and
he alone exalted. If ever this was the case
in any time, we may see it is legible in ours,
in great letters. This is the very result of
his ways, staining the pride of all glory, de-
feating witty counsels, making counsellors
mad, throwing down all plumes, and tramp.
ling them in the mire, that no party or per-
sons in the kingdom can set out for any
triumph of courage, or wit, or any other ex-
to meet and dash it in pieces, that no flesh
may glory before him ; and this, to souls
that love God, is the main happiness of the
times, and that wherein they will chiefly re-
joice.
The particular here spoken of is eminently
suited to this end, the choice and calling of
persons to the dignity of Christians. Not
many wise, &c., but the mean things, &c.,
and the most insignificant, things that are
not, non-entia, very nothings, to annul things
that seem most to be something. Thus it
was in the first times ; and though after-
wards, by means of these meaner persons,
greater were caught and drawn into Ch.ist,
philosophers and kings, &c., yet still it re-
mains true in all times, that predominantly,
the choice is of the meaner sort ; God testi.
fying how little he esteems, those things that
men account great. Those endowments of
wit and eloquence that men admire in some,
alas 1 bow »oor are they to him! He re-
SERMON V.
tpecteth not any who are wise in heart ; they
are nothing, and less than nothing in hi.<
523
eyes
xxxiv.
he is the author of all these,
19. Even wise men admire
Job
how
little it is that men know, how small a matter
lies under the sound of these popular wonders
a learned man, a great scholar, a great states-
man ; how much more doth the all-wise God
meanly account of these ! He often discovers,
even to the world, their meanness ; he befools
them. So valour, or birth, or worldly great-
ness, these he gives, and gives as things he
makes no great reckoning of, to such as shall
never see his face ; and calls to the inheritance
of glory, poor, despised creatures, that are
looked on as the offscourings and refuse of
the world ; these are raised from the dung,
hill and set with princes, made the sons and
daughters of God, entitled each of them to
a crown that fades not. Oh, the wonder !
Now, they are not puffed up with this ;
but the more assurance they have, and the
clearer their view is of the state they are
called to, the more humble they are ; still
laying these together. What was I in myself?
and, What am I in Christ ? And, in compa-
ring these, they are swallowed up with amaze-
ment at that love that made this change ;
and for this very end doth the apostle express
thus their estate, Ye are of him in Christ
are of him as his children, partakers of the
Divine nature, and that so fastened, that it
abideth : and the medium of this excellent
and permanent being is primarily to be con-
sidered; for in him it becomes so. It in
both high and firm, being in the natural Son,
as the foundation of it ; therefore here ex-
pressed, as bearing the whole weight of this
happy fabric.
Of him are ye in Christ Jesus, &c. The
life which believers derive from God is
through him ; he is that eternal word, by
which all things were made, in their first
creation, and do still subsist, Heb. i. 2,
John i. 3 ; and he is made the basis of the
second creation, in a wonderful way, becom-
ing himself a creature ; and so the root of
the new progeny is from heaven, the sons of
God; so it follows in both these cited scrip,
tures, John i. 12—14, The word was made
flesh ,• and so they that receive him are made
the sons of God. And so, Heb. ii. 10, 11
&c., amply and excellently is that mystery
unfolded. The first frame of man, at least
the excellency and beauty of it, was broken
!>y his fall ; therefore a new model is framed
of a selected number, to be a new world, more
firm than the former, united unto God so
close, as never to be severed again. Man,
though he was made holy and god-like, con-
Jesus, &c. inued not in that honour. - Now, God him-
This is a new being, a creation ; for in ] self becomes a man, to make all sure ; tha>
relation to this being we are nothing ir our; is the foundation of an indissoluble union
natural state ; and then, considering that in j Man js knit to God in the person of Christ
relation to others, the meanest are often) so close, that there is no possibility of divid-
chosen and made partakers of this being,
that having nothing naturally great of nobili-
ty or morality, or high intellectuals, the most
insignificant are often chosen, and made par-
takers of this being, to illustrate the power
of Him that makes them exist. In kings,
somewhat may be observed of this in their
choice of favourites, and raising men that are
not of highest deserving, as affecting to shew
their freedom in choice, and their power in
making out of nothing, and so they love to
have them called their creatures ; but these are
but shadows : both are poor creatures, both
are easily thrown down. But God doth indeed
shew in his choice, his freedom and power in his
new creature ; he draws them out of the low-
est bottom of nothing, and raises them to the
most excellent kind of being that creatures
are capable of, to be " the sons of God, and
heirs, and joint heirs with Christ Jesus,"
&c.
Ye are of him in Christ Jesus. This
must be taken in an eminent sense. All the
creatures are of God ; but man, even in his
first creation, for the dignity of his being and
slow way of forming, was accounted to be of
God, in a peculiar manner, formed to his own
likeness, and therefore called the son of God ;
Acts xvii. 28, called his offspring. But in
this new being much more are we go ; we
ing them any more ; and this union of our
nature in his person is made the ground of
the union of our persons with God- We find
our own rlesh i' Chris catch hold of a man,
and in that man ma find God, and are made
one with him by faith in Christ ; and this
all the powers of hell cannot dissolve. Our
life none can cut off from his, more than a
man can cut a beam from off the sun. We
are and subsist of God in Christ. This is
an unknown mystery, but, were it known,
would prove a depth of rich, inexhaustible
consolation. The world doth not know what
Christians are. This is no wonder ; for truly
they know not themselves, or but very little.
How would it elevate their spirits ! but not
in pride. Oh ! nothing is more humbling
than this, as the apostle here implies ; but
it would raise them above the world, and suit
their desires and their actions to their con-
dition, having all under foot, that the world
accounts great ; walking as heirs of heaven ;
led and moved by the Spirit of Christ in
them ; thinking, when solicited to any base
way, How doth this become the sons of God ?
Shall one that lives in Christ indignify him
so much as to borrow comfort or pleasure
from any sin, for the killing and destruction
whereof he laid down his precious life?
Oh ! my brethren, that this divine nirhi-
SERMON V.
tion were kindled in your breasts, to partake
of this high and happy being, and leave all
your pursuits to follow this, restless till you be
in Christ : for solid, abiding rest, sure I am,
out of him there is none ; and then being
in him, remember where you are, and what
you are. Walk in Christ, and live like him,
as one with him indeed ; let his thoughts
and desires be yours. What was his work ;
yea, what was his refreshment, his meat and
drink ? To do his Father's will. Oh ! when
shall we find ourselves so minded, as the a-
postle's word is, the same mind in its that
was in Christ 9
Who of God is made unto us wisdom, &c
Known unto God are all his works from
the beginning. It was not an accidental,
after-device in God, (for in him there can be
no such thing,) but was his great fore-
thought project, out of the ruins of man's first
estate, to raise a fairer and firmer fabric,
new from the very foundation. And in the new
foundation lies the model, and excellency,
and stability of the whole structure. This
is the choicest of all his works, wherein he
chiefly glories, his master-piece, which great
angels admire ; and this is it, Who of God is
made unlo us wisdom, &c., and that is one
letter of his name. He is called Wonderful
who is here spoken of; so all is wonderful
in this work. Wonderful, first, that he
should be made any thing ; the Maker of al
things himself made something that before he
was not ; then made to us — that he should
be made any thing to our interest and advan-
tage, who are a company of traitors ; and
made to us of God, the God against whom
we rebelled, and continued naturally enemies.
The purpose was bred in the 'Father's own
breast, to give out his Son from thence to re-
cover us, and bring us back. O ! astonish-
ing depth of love ! Then made unlo us.
What ! What not ? We made up in him,
for ever rich and happy. He made all unto
us, all we need, or can desire ; wisdom,
righteousness, sanctification, and redemp-
tion. Without him we are undone, forlorn
caitiffs, masses of misery, as you say, having
nothing neither in us nor on us ; nothing
but poverty and wretchedness, blindness and
nakedness, altogether ignorant of the way to
happiness, yea, ignorant of our very misery ;
a nest of fools, natural fools, children of folly,
(as they that are renewed by and providec
with this wisdom, are called children of wis
dow,) guilty, filthy, condemned slaves.
This is the goodly posture we are in, ou
of Christ ; yet who resents it ? How few
can be brought to serious thoughts abou
it ! Nay, are not the most in the midst ol
this misery, yet full of high conceit of their
worth, wit, freedom, &c.? As frantic bedla-
mites, lying naked and filthy in their chains
yet dreaming they are great and wise per-
sons, commanding and ordering all abov
hem ; fancying, possibly, that they arr
lings, a stick in their hands, a sceptre, and
;heir iron, chains of gold. This is a pleas -
ng madness for the time ; yet who does not
:>ity it that looks on ?
Methinks I see one of this sort, when I
see one evidently destitute of Christ, bearing
Siimself big upon the fancy of his parts, and
3irth, and riches, or stoutness, and, upon
any cross word, swelling against others,
threatening high, and protesting they will be
slaves to none ; not knowing that, even while
they speak thus, they are wretched caitiffs
under the hardest and basest kind of slavery.
Inquire, my brethren, if ever you had a right
and clear view of your natural misery ; other-
wise you are, it is likely, still in it ; and though
you profess to believe in Christ, are not yet gone
out of yourselves to him ; and, not knowing
your great need of him, do certainly make
little esteem and little use of him. You are
full, and reign without him : all is well and
in quiet ; but it is the strong man yet pos«
sessing the house, and keeping you captives
as quiet as he can, that you look not out, or
cry for a deliverer. He is afraid of him, to
be dispossessed and turned out by him that
is stronger, the mighty Redeemer that came
out of /ion. Oh ! that many amongst you
were crying to him, and waiting for him, t»
come unto you for your rescue.
Made unlo us wisdom, righteousness^
sanctification, and redemption. To supply
and help all, he is our magazine, whither to
have recourse to : for this end replenished
with all the fulness of God, the very fulnesa
of the Godhead dwelling in him ; the Spirit
not given unto him by measure. He is fit
to be made our wisdom ; the wisdom of the
Father, as-here in this place the apostle late-
ly called him, the wisdom of God. In him
are hid all the treasures of wisdom and
knowledge. They that find him, and come
unto him, find it so ; but the most look but
on the superfice ; they hear his name, and
know not what is under it.
Righteousness. By fulfilling the whole
law, and all righteousness, Matt. iii. 15, and
yet suffering the rigour of it, as if he had
transgressed it. No guile, no spot was found
on him ; he was holy, harmless, undefiled,
separate from sinners, (white and ruddy,)
and yet the greatest sinner by imputation ;
The Lord laid on him the iniquity of us all.
And Psalm xl. 12, which is prophesied of
him : Mine iniquities have taken hold on
me. He owns them as his, though not his ;
and endured all that justice could require,
entered and paid the debt, and is acquitted
and set free again, and exalted at the right
hand of God. So it is evident that he is
righteous, even in that representative and
sponsional person he put on.
Sanctification. Christ is a living spring
of that ; anointed above his fellows. In him
SERMON v.
52?
is no mixture of any iniquity. The Holy
Ghost descended on the apostles in the shape
of fire : there was somewhat to be purged in
them ; they were to be quickened and en-
abled by it for their calling. But in him,
as a dove, there was no need of cleansing or
purging out any thing ; that was a symbol
of the spotless purity of his nature, and of
the fulness of the Spirit dwelling in him.
And redemption. Christ is mighty to
save, and having a right to save — a kinsman,
a brother ; and as he hath bought freedom
for sinners, will pat them in possession of it,
will effect and complete it. All that are in
him are really delivered from the power of
sin and death, and shall, ere long, be per-
fectly and fully so ; they shall be lifted up
above them, no longer to be molested with
any remainders of either, or with fear of them,
or so much as any grief for them. And that
day is called the day of redemption, to which
we are before-hand made sure, and sealed by
the Spirit.
We cannot then doubt of his fitness and
fulness to be these, and these for us ; but
withal, we must know that he is designed so
to be made unto us, and came, and did, and
suffered all for this purpose ; and having
done, returned, and now lives, to be these to
us. It is his place and office, and so his de-
light ; he loves to be put upon the perfor-
mance of this, to be their wisdom and righ-
teousness, made of God to us. It is
agreed betwixt the Father and him that he
be so : he is the wisdom of God, and made
of God our wisdom. Wonderful ! that the
same that is his own wisdom, and no less,
he would make ours. And now, in a sense
of all our ignorances and follies, it becomes
us to go to him, to apply ourselves to him,
and apply him to us. He is called our head,
and so most fitly, for it is the place of all our
wisdom ; that lies in our head ; and all the
rest, righteousness, sanctification, and re-
demption. If he be righteousness in him-
self, and holy, and victor over his enemies,
and set free from wrath and death, then are
we so too in him ; for he is ours, and so
ours, that we become what he is, are inright-
ed to all he hath, and endowed with all his
goods ; though poor and base in ourselves,
yet married to him : that is the title. We
are made rich, and noble, and free ; we are
righteous and holy, because he is. The wife
shines with I he rays of her husband.* All
debts and pleas are taken off, he stands be-
twixt us and all hazard, and in him we stand
acquitted and justified before God.
That which makes up the match, and ties
the knot of this union, is faith. He is made
of God unto us wisdom, righteousness, &c.;
tendered and held out as all these, in the
promise of the gospel ; not only declared to
be really furnished and fit so to be, but offer-
radiis m?iili.
ed to be so, and we warranted, yea, invited
and intreated to receive him as such. But
he is effectually made to be this to us, to me,
by believing, brought home and applied of
God, and faith wrought in the heart to enter-
tain and unite to him ; « it closes the bar-
gain, and makes him ours. Now, in that
he is made unto us, not of ourselves, but
God, for that is his gift and work : we can-
not believe any more than we can fulfil the
whole law ; and though men think it a com-
mon and easy thing to accept of so sweet an
offer at so cheap a rate, nothing being re-
quired but to receive him, yet this is a thing
that naturally all refuse. JVo man comes,
(says he,) except the Father draw him.
Though men be beseeched to come, yet the
most will not come unto me, that they may
have life. To as many as received him, he
gave the privilege to become the sons of
God ; and yet, for all that, many did not
receive him ; yea, as there it is expressed,
He came to his own, but his own received
him not. They that were nearest to him in
natural relation and interest, yet refused him,
for the most part, and attained not this
blessed, spiritual interest in him unto life.
It should be considered, my brethren,
Christ is daily held out, and none are excluded
or excepted ; all are invited, be they what they
will, that have need of him, and use for him ;
and yet, who is persuaded ? Oh ! Who hath
believed our report ? One hath his farm,
another his oxen, each some engagement or
another. Men are not at leisure for Christ.
Why, you think, may be, you have received
him. If it be so, you are happy. Be not
deluded. Have you received him ? Do you
find him then living and ruling within you ?
Are your eyes upon him ? Do you wait on
him, early and late, to see what his will is ?
Is your soul glad in him ? Can you, in
distress, sickness, or poverty, clasp him,
and find him sweet, and allay all with this
thought, " However things go with me, yet
Christ is in me ?" Doth your heart cleave
to him ? Certainly, if he be in you, it will
be thus ; or, at least, your most earnest de-
sire will be, that it may be thus.
Men will not believe how hard a matter it
is to believe the fulness and sufficiency of
Jesus Christ, till they be put to it in earnest
to make use of him, and then they find it :
when sin and death are set before their view,
and discovered in their native horridness unto
the soul, when a man is driven to that, What
shall I do to be saved ? then, then is the
time to know what notion he hath of Christ.
And as the difficulty lies in this, in the first
awakening of the conscience from sin, so, in
after-times of temptation and apprehension
of wrath, when upon some newly-added guil-
tiness, or a new sight of the old, in a fright,
ful manner, sin revives, and the toul dies,
• 'H trifrif irtieiu-
628
SERMON V.
it is struck dead with the terrors of the law ;
then, to keep thy hold, and find another life
in Christ, the law and justice satisfied, and
so the conscience quieted in him, this is in-
deed to believe.
It is a thing of huge difficulty to bring
men to a sense of their natural misery, to see
that they have need of a Saviour, and to look
out for one ; but then, being brought to that,
it is no less, if not more difficult, to persuade
them that Christ is he ; that, as they have
need of him, so they need no more, he being
able and sufficient for them. All the waver-
ings and fears of misbelieving minds do
spring from dark and narrow apprehensions
of Jesus Christ. All the doubt is not of
their interest, as they imagine ; they who
say so, and think it is so, do not perceive
the bottom and root of their own malady.
They say, they do no whit doubt but that
he is able enough, and his righteousness
large enough ; but all the doubt is, if he
belong to me. Now, I say, this doubt arises
from a defect and doubt of the former,
wherein you suspect it not. Why doubtest
thou that he belongs to thee ? Dost thou fly
to him, as lost and undone in thyself ? Dost
thou renounce all that can be called thine,
and seek thy life in him ? Then he is thine.
He came to seek and to save that which was
lost. Oh ! but I find so much, not only
former, but still daily renewed and increas-
ing guiltiness. Why, is he a sufficient Sa-
viour, or, is he not ? If thou dost say, he is
not, then it is manifest that here lies
defect and mistake. If thou sayest, he is,
then hast thou answered all thy objections of
that kind ; much guiltiness, much or little,
old or hew, neither helps nor hinders, as to
thy interest in him, and salvation by him.
And for dispelling these mists, nothing can
be more effectual than the letting in of these
gospel beams, the clear expressions of his
riches and fulness in the Scriptures, and emi-
nently this, made of God, wisdom, righteous-
ness, sanctification, &c.
Wisdom. Both objectively and effective-
ly. Objectively, I mean all our wisdom to
be in the right knowledge and apprehension
of him ; and this suits to the apostle's pre-
sent discourse. The Jews would have a sign,
and the Gentiles wisdom ; but we preach
Christ : so chap. ii. 2. / determined to
know nothing, save Christ crucified. He
was learnedly bred, and knew many things
besides ; much of nature, and much of the
law ; but all this was to him out-of-date,
useless stuft'; it was as if he never had heard
of, nor known any thing else but Jesus Christ.
We may know other things ; but this, and
this alone, is our wisdom, to know him, and
him crucified ; particularly we may have
knowledge of the law, and by it the know-
ledge of sin ; but in relation to our standing
before God, and so our happiness, which
\s the greatest point of wisdom, Jesus
Christ is alone, and is all. And the more
firmly a soul eyes Christ, and loses all other
knowledge, and itself in contemplating him,
the more truly wise and heavenly it is.
And effectively he is our wisdom. All
our right knowledge of him and belief in him
flows from himself, is derived from him, and
sent into our souls. His Spirit is conveyed
into ours; a beam of himself, as of the sun.
This Sun of righteousness is not seen but by
his own light ; so that every soul that is made
wise unto salvation, that is brought to appre-
hend Christ, to cleave to him, and repose on
him, it is by an emission of divine light
from himself, which shews him, and lead*
unto him. And so we know God in him.
There is no right knowledge of the Father
but in the Son ; God dwelling in the man
Christ, will be found or known no where
else ; and they which consider and worship
God out of Christ, do not know or worship
the true God, but a false notion and fancy of
their own.
The Shechinah, the habitation of the Ma-
jesty, is Jesus Christ ; there he dwells as
between the cherubim over the mercy-seat.
To apprehend God so, is to love him, and
trust in him all our life, to hope to find favour
and bliss with him ; this is the only wise
knowledge of him : now this alone is in
Christ, and from him. He contains this re-
presentation of God, and gives his own light
to see it ; so that a Christian's desire would
be, in relation to Jesus Christ, that of David
to the temple, as a figure of him, " One
thing have I desired of him, and that will I
seek after, that I may dwell in the house of
the Lord ;" that I may get in to Christ, to
know God there, " to behold the beauty of
the Lord." There we see beauty indeedj
the Father's glory, and so, as our Father,
reconciled to us, we see him merciful and
gracious. And as to behold, so still to in%
quire in his temple, to advance in the know-
ledge of God, studying him in Christ ; to
admire what we see, and seek still to see
more : and to know that this knowledge of
God, as we have it in Christ, is from him.
He reveals the Father; he came from his
bosom for that purpose. We cannot believe
on him, cannot come near God through him,
but as he lets forth of his light, to conduct
and lead us in, yea, powerfully to draw in,
for his light does so. Now, knowing and
apprehending him by his own light, his
Spirit, the apostle clears it, that this is our
wisdom, by those rich titles added ; accord-
ing to which we find him to us, when we re-
ceive from him that wisdom, by which we
apprehend him aright, and lay hold on him,
then made unto us righteousness, sanctifica-
tion, and redemption.
Righteousness. This doubtless is meant
of the righteousness ov wnich we are justified
SERMON V.
befo:a God. And he is made this to us :
applied by faith, his righteousness becomes
OWN. That exchange made, our sins are
laid over upon him, and his obedience put
upon us. This the great glad-tidings, that
we are made righteous by Christ. It is not
a righteousness wrought by us, but given to
us, and put upon us. This carnal reason
cannot apprehend, and being proud, therefore
rejects and argues against it ; says, How can
this thing be ? But faith closes with it, and
without either doing or suffering, the sinner is
acquitted and justified, and stands as guiltless
of breach, yea, as having fulfilled the whole
law. And happy they that thus fasten upon
this righteousness : they may lift up their
faces with gladness and boldness before God ;
whereas the most industrious, self-saving
justiciary, though in other men's eyes and
his own, possibly for the present, he makes
a glistering show, yet according to the law,
he shall be covered with shame, and con-
founded in his folly and guiltiness. But
faith triumphs over self-worthiness, and sin,
and death, and the law, shrouding the soul
under the mantle of Jesus Christ ; and there
it is safe. All accusations fall off, having
no where to fasten, unless some blemish could
be found in that righteousness in which faith
hath wrapt itself. This is the very spring
of solid peace, and fills the soul with peace
and joy. But still men would have some-
thing within themselves to make out the
matter, as if this robe needed any such piec-
ing ; and not finding what they desire, thence
disquiet and unsettlement of mind arises.
True it is, that this faith purifies the heart,
and works holiness, and all graces flow from
it : but in this work of justifying the sinner
it is alone, and cannot admit any mixture.
As Luther's resemblance is, " Faith is as
the bride with Christ in the bed-chamber
alone ; but when she cometh forth, hath the
attendance and train of other graces with
her." This well understood, the soul that
believes on Jesus Christ, will not let go, for
all deficiency in itself ; and yet so resting on
him, will not be slothful nor regardless of
any duty of holiness : yea, this is the way to
abound in all the fruits of the Spirit, first,
to have that wisdom from him, rightly to
apprehend and apply him as our righteous-
ness, and then shall we find all furniture of
grace in him ; he will likewise be sanctifica-
tion. Say not, •' Unless I find some mea-
sure of sanctification, what right have I to
apply him as my righteousness ?" This
inverts the order, and prejudges theeof both.
Thou must first, without finding, yea, or
seeking any thing in thyself but misery
and guiltiness, lay hold on him as thy righ-
teousness ; or else thou shall never find sanc-
tification by any other endeavour or pui suit.
He it is that is made sanctification to us,
and out of him we seek it in vain. Now,
first, he must be thy righteousness, before
thoa find him thy sanctification. Simply,
as a guilty sinner thou must fly to him for
shelter ; and then, being come in, thou shalt
be furnishi-d, out of his fulness, with grace
for grace. As a poor man pursued by the
justicery, flying to a strong castle for safety,
and being in it, finds it a rich palace, and
all his wants supplied there.
This misunderstanding of that method is
the cause of much of that darkness and dis-
comfort, and withal of that deadness and, de-
fect of graces, that many persons go drooping
under, who will not take this way, the only
straight and sure way of life and comfort.
Now,
Sanctification. He is to us not only as
a perfect pattern, but as a powerful principle.
It is really the Spirit of Christ in a believer,
that crucifies the world, and purges out sin,
and forms the soul to his likeness. It is im-
possible to be holy, not being in him ; and
being truly in him, it is as impossible not to
be holy. Our pothering and turmoiling with-
out him, makes us lose our labour ; and in
this point, indeed, little wit makes much
labour.
Redemption. Sin is often prevailing, even
in believers ; and therewithal discomforts
and doubts arising, as it cannot otherwise
choose. Oh how do they groan and sigh as
captives still to the law of sin and death !
Well, there is in our Lord Jesus help for
that too : he is redemption, that is, the com-
plement and fulness of deliverance, the price
he paid once for all ; now he goes on to work
that deliverance by conquest that he bought
by ransom. It is going on, even when we
feel it not ; and within a little while it shall
be perfected, and we shall see all the host of
our enemies that pursued us, as Israel saw
the Egyptians, lie dead upon the shore.
Courage ! that day is coming. And all this,
that he that glories, may glory in the Lord,
is it not reasonable ? No self-glorying ; the
more faith, the less still of that. A believer
is nothing in himself : all is Christ's ; Christ
is his all. That treasurer who, being called
to an account, because that out of nothing
fie had enriched himself suddenly, many
thought he would have been puzzled with it ;
but he, without being much moved, next
morning came before the king in an old suit
that he wore before he got that office, and
said, " Sir, this suit on my back is mine,
iut all the rest is thine." So our old suit is
ours, all the rest Christ's, and he allows it
well. And in the full and pure glory that
ascends to God in this work, are we to re-
oice, more than in the work itself, as our
salvation. There is an humble kind of boast-
ing that becomes a Christian : My soul shall
glory, or make her boast in God, says David,
all the day long. What was I before I met
with Christ, thinks a believer, and DOW what
2L
SERMON VI.
.m I ? And, upon that thought, wonders
and loves. But most of the wonder is yet
to come ; foi he conceives but little what we
shall be.
SERMON VI.
JEKEMIAH x. 23, 24.
O Lord, I know that the way of man is not
in himself ; it «* not in man that walk-
eth to direct his steps. O Lord, correct
me, but with judgment ; ,iot in thine
anger, lest thou bring me to nothing.
IT cannot be expressed what an advantage
a heart acquainted with God hath, in all the
revolutions and changes of the world, when
it turns unto Him, and gives vent to its
griefs and desires into his bosom, and so finds
ease. This the prophet does here : after the
denouncing of a heavy judgment, he turns
towards Him from whom he brought that
message, to entreat for them to whom he
brought it. After a very sad close of his
sermon, he adds this short but very sweet
prayer ; presents himself and speaks in that
style, as representing the whole people, Cor-
•€ct me, O Lord ; makes their calamity, as
It were, all his own ; bears their person, and
presents his petition for them in his own
name. The prophets, though they could
not but applaud and approve the justice of
God that sent them, in the harshest news
they brought ; yet withal could not be in-
sensible of the miseries of his people : and
so we find them mixing pathetical complaints
and prayers for them, with the predictions
of judgment against them.
Obs. And thus are all his faithful minis-
ters affected towards his church. The Lord
himself is pleased to express a kind of regret,
sometimes in the punishing of them ; as the
tender-hearted father feels the lashes he lays
on, though highly deserved by the stubborn-
ness of his children. Hos. xi. 8. " How shall
I give thee up, Ephraim ? How shall I de-
liver thee, Israel ? How shall I make thee
as Admah ? How shall I set thee as Ze-
boim ? Mine heart is turned within me, my
repentings are kindled together." So it wel-
becomes his servants to be thus affected,
when they deliver sad news to his people, to
return praying for them : thus going, as
angels betwixt heaven and earth, beseeching
the people to .return unto God, and beseech-
ing God to return to his people, and spare
them.
The prophet, in this prayer, first premises
a position suiting his purpose ; and then.
upon that, presents his supplication. The
position he lays, to make a double benefit of
it in order to his petition. It is both a sure
ground for himself to stand on, and a lit
argument to move God by. Thus it is, and
thus he intends and uses it, at once to sup-
port his own faith, and work on the goodness
of God by it. Besides the fitness of the
truth itself for both these ends, we find some
print of both, in the very way of expressing
it, O Lord, I knew that the way of man is
not in himself, &c. so expressing both his
own persuasion of the truth of it, I know,
and representing it to God, as a fit truth to
urge his suit by, O Lord, I know.
Observe. A great part of the strength
and art of prayer lies in this, first to have
the mind furnished with fit conceptions of
God, and established in the firm persuasions
of them ; in that is much of the strength of
prayer : then fitly to call up, and use these
conceptions and persuasions, for our own
supporting and prevailing with God ; in that
lies the art of it.
We possibly do think that we do suffici-
ently believe both the goodness and power of
God, especially his power, none suspecting
himself of the least doubt of it ; yet our per-
plexing doubts and fears, our feeble stagger-
ings in faith and prayer, upon particular
pressing difficulties, discover evidently a de-
fect here, though still we will not own it.
And, alas ! how little faculty have we in the
most needful times, to rest on his strength,
and to stir up ourselves, to stir him up by
prayer, to do for us ; holding firm to that
great point of his absolute sovereignty and
power over all things, and holding it up to
him, entreating him by it to appear and
work for us : " Lord, it is in thy hand ; that
I know, and that is enough for me : thy
good-will I dare trust" (for there is implied a
secret confidence of that). " This contents
me, that thou hast full power of the busi-
ness." That is the thing here the prophet
fixes on — " O Lord, I know that the way of
man is not in himself."
" As there is in us no power to turn off the
judgment determined, all our wit and strength
can do nothing to that ; so we are suxe there
is no power in our enemies to do any thing,
either beyond or beside thy appointment, in
the execution of it ; and upon this, Lord,
we come to supplicate thee for mitigation.
With men it often falls out, either in just
punishments, or unjust oppressions, that the
ministers and under officers do exceed their
commission, and overdo their business ; yea,
sometimes add little less of their own, than
all that comes to which is appointed to them ;
but with thee, O Lord, it is not .so. As our
enemies cannot stir of themselves without
order from thee ; and as thy commissions
arc always all just, so thou si-cst to the per-
formance art present at it, which often men
SERMON VI.
531
cannot be : and so nothing is or cau be
tlone beside thy notice and allowance."
His position is this, The way of man is
not in himself; and repeated more plainly,
it is not in man that walketh to direct his
tteps. Thus, by a double negation, put-
ting it altogether out of his power. And
under this the positive truth is couched, that
the absolute disposal of all the ways of men
is wholly in the supreme hand of God ;
according to that, Prov. xx. 24, Man's
goings are of the Lord. How can a man
then understand his way ? He does not
certainly know any thing of his own doings.
Even he that seems to know most, to advise
and deliberate upon all he does, yet hath no
power of his contrivements, knows not which
way they will turn, till the event doth clear
it; and even then, looking back, is often
amazed at the strange course of things, so
far different from, and possibly contrary to,
all his witty projectings and models : often
does not attain his own, but never fails to
accomplish God's purpose, even when his
intentions are least for it, yea, when they are
most against it. Let us build a tower, said
they, (Gen. xi.,) lest we be scattered abroad :
and that was the very thing which caused
their scattering. Joseph was sold by his
brethren, that they might not bow before
him, as he had dreamed ; and this brought
it to pass. Pharaoh says, Let us deal wisely ;
and that way of oppressing them, lest they
should go away, both stirred up God to
deliver them, and disposed them to depart.
And, not to multiply instances, generally in
all the ways of men, they have their designs
most times eccentric to God's ; but his holus
always, and theirs no further than they are
his. Have we not ourselves seen instances
of this ?
Alan consults and determines freely ; yet
even these inward actings of the mind and
will, are ordered and framed by the hand of
God, and it cannot otherwise be. It is a
most vain fancy, to imagine that any thing
in this is inconsistent with the natural liberty
of his will, or that any such liberty can be
in any creature, as consists not with his.
But because in these inward actings, man
finds himself more at his choice, though all
is secretly over-ruled, and in the event of
things, God's sovereign disposal is more
legible ; therefore these two are expressed
with some kind of difference, Prov. xvi. 9,
A man's heart dev'iseth his way, but the
Lord directs his steps : that is, when he
hath devised, that does not carry it ; he may
devise and fancy things twenty ways, and
think he is taking freely his own course, but
lie shall find in the issue another hand than
his own. // is not in man that walks, as
the word is here : he walketh, and yet the
direction of his steps is in another hand.
But in the devisings too, the Lord so acts
on man, that lie is turned which way it
pleaseth him. Even the heart, and that of
the most uncontrouled, the most impetuous
torrent, the Aingr's heart, is in his hand, is
turned as the rivers of waters. When
men either determine themselves, or follow
unallowed ways for determination, as those.
Ezek. xxi. 21, yet are they ordered of God.
This he does infallibly and uncontrollably,
yet in such a way as there is nothing distorted
or violented.* All is so done. Things are
in their own course, and men are in their
voluntary choices, yet all subserving the
great Lord, and his ends, and his glory, that
made them all for himself ; as the lower orbs
have each their motion, but are all wheeled
about with the first. Men know not what
he is doing by them, and what in the end
he will do with them. Isaiah x. 15, 16,
With the rod of Assyria he scourges his
children, and then throws the rod in the fire.
The horseleech draws the blood to fill itself,
but the physician intends the patient's health.
Men are drawn on by temporal prosperings
and successes to drive proudly and furiously,
till they drive themselves over the edge of
the precipice appointed for their ruin ; and
all his exalting them for a season, is, in the
end, to exalt himself in their greater and
more remarkable destruction. / will get ma
a name upon Pharaoh and all his host. Men
are busy, consulting or acting with or against
one another, and he sits and laughs at theii
wisest plots ; he alone is in all affairs, doing
all his own will in heaven and in earth.
Oh ! the folly and blindness of men, that
think to carry all to their minds, and walk
as masters of their own designs, and never
have any serious thought of him, in whose
hands both they, and all their business, and
all the affairs of states and kingdoms of this
world, are as a piece of wax, to frame then:
to what he pleases. He that " destroys the
counsels of the wise, and makes the diviners
mad, that pours contempt upon princes, leads
counsellors away spoiled, and maketh the
judges fools ;" He hath set limits co all
things, to the raging of the sea — makes
the small sand give check to the great ocean ;
when it brake out of the womb, he had \
cradle provided for it. and swaddling bands,
Job xxxviii. 8, 9, and there, though it rolls
to and fro, yet cannot get out. Oh ! it is
ignorance of God makes men rush on, and
not inquire whether he be with them or not.
Moses was wise and stout, and leader of a
numerous people, yet he would not stir on
other terms ; " If thou go not with us, let us
not go up hence." Well, if men will on
their peril, be it ; let us reverence God ;
for even this is from him, and he will gain
his glory out of it — The way of man is not
in himself. If we see their folly, let us iearn
to be wiser, to keep close to him, and desire
» Fortiter et suavitcr.
532
SERMOJV VI.
his gracious direction of our ways ; for it is
not in our hands, even when we intend best.
And for public affairs, let us rest satisfied in
his part. Amidst all disorders, he is order-
ing all wisely and justly, and to them that
love him, graciously ; therefore we ought not
to be dismayed. Let us calm our thoughts
with this, remember who it is that rules all,
and disposes of peace and war, and all affairs,
and we carmot wish them in a better hand.
I am persuaded, that in all the commotions
of the world, when a believer thinks on this,
it cannot but calm and compose his spirit
exceedingly, My Father rules all. Let this
so quiet our fears, as that withal it quicken
our prayers, and stir us up to the work of this
day, repentant, humble seeking unto God ;
seeing all is in his hands, our peace, our
liberties, and our enemies that threaten to
bereave us of both. Oh ! that the effect of
all our troubles and dangers were to drive us
more to God, to make us throng more about
the throne of grace, to draw forth our King
for our help. Oh ! our jmpenitence and
unreformedness ! That turns him to be our
enemy, and that only. Men are nothing.
And now in so great straits, yet so little
calling on him ! Oh ! my brethren, what
are we doing ? Oh ! Pray, pray ; it is our
God that commands all ; and we may say it,
upon his own warrant, It is prayer that
commands him.
Correct me, &c. When the hand of God
is stretched out against a people or a person,
certainly there is no running from him : the
only wise and safe course is, to run unto
him. This the prophet does in behalf of his
people, and by his example teaches them so
to do. As the prophet utters his own sense
and desires in this prayer, so he sets it as a
copy to the people of God, in time of judg-
ment, to pray by ; shews them the way,
which is, not vainly to offer to fly from him,
or proudly to stand out against him, to their
undoing, but to humble themselves under
his mighty hand, supplicating him, yielding
themselves, and begging quarter. " Correct
me, O Lord, with judgment, not in anger, lest
thou bring me to nothing." That I suffer
for my rebellion, good reason ; yet, Lord,
do not utterly destroy me ; which will be, if
the weight of thine anger fall upon me : and
for that, though indeed we have deserved it,
yet there is another vent for it, and pardon
us to say so, filter matter for it. Pour out
thy wrath upon the Heathen ; let it go out
that way. So we see the supplication hath
these two particulars in it, an aversion and
God from his own people under correction ;
and a diversion of it upon his and their ene-
mies : Lord, turn from us, and pour it
out there. The aversion is presented, qua-
lified with a humble submission, declaring
expressly ^they decline not that correction of
God, but only deprecate his consuming an-
ger.
Correct me, O Lord, but with judgment,
that is, with measure ; such as the discretion
and love of a father resolves on towards his
child ; thus much will I correct him for his
good, and no further.
in thine anger. God is pleased to
express his displeasure against sin, by wrath
and anger, even towards his own children :
but the anger here the prophet entreats ex-
ception from for the church, is anger oppo-
sed to judgment, unbounded destroying an-
ger, that knows no limits nor stop, but the
devouring of those against whom it is kin-
dled. This is spoken in our language, but is
to be understood in a way suiting the purity
of God. In him truly is no passion at all,
much less any that is not ordered by wisdom
and judgment. He is not carried in heat
beyond his purposed measure, but knows
well how far he intends to go with any, and
goes no further. But as his anger means
his just punishing of sin, so his unlimited
anger signifies no other but his just proceed-
ing in punishment, to the utter . destruction
of inflexible sinners : and to this is opposed
here his correcting with judgment ; that is,
in a fatherly, gracious moderation, such as
does not utterly ruin and cut off, but indeed
reclaims and converts sinners unto him.
This submission and yieldance to a mea-
sured correction, is a thing most reasonable ;
they that knoiv any thing aright of themselves
and God, will not refuse it.
First, reflecting on their own sinfulness,
which, when truly discovered, even where
there is least, yet is there enough of it to
justify even utter destruction : therefore have
we good reason, unrepiningly to receive such
moderate correction from the hand of God
as he thinks fit, and to wonder that it is no
more. It is one true character of repentance
under the rod, to accept the punishment of
our iniquity, to have our untamed spirits
brought low, to stoop to God, to acknow-
ledge our punishment to be far less than our
iniquity, and that it is of his goodness that
we are not consumed, as the church con-
fesses. Though we feel it heavy and the
measure hard, yet self-knowledge and con-
sciousness of sin will lay the soul low, and
make it quiet, will say nothing ; or if any .
thing, it will be confession of its own guilti-
ness, and the righteousness o/ God : still
clearing him in all, as it is Psalm li. 4, and
using that other Psalm, cxix. 137, whatsoever
is so inflicted, Righteous art thou, O Lord,
a diversion : an aversion of the anger of just are thy judgments : which words a good
king used, being put in prison, and hardly
dealt with. So the Psalmist, Ps. xxxviii.
3, (<k There is no soundness in my flesh be-
cause of thine anger, neither is there any
rest in my bones because of my sin,") justi-
fies God's anger, by his own sin. Thus
SERMON VI.
633
Daniel makes confession for this people,
under the very captivity here threatened, when
it had lasted out the full term, Dan. ix.
And knowing our sin, ought we not to
allow God the clearing of his own justice,
his purity and hatred of sin, in punishing it ?
And possibly most exemplarily here, in those
that are nearest him, his own people and
children, in whom he can least endure it.
This especially when^we consider his sove-
reignty and greatness, that he is tied to no
account of his actings ; and though we did
not see so clear reason for our sufferings in
our deservings, there is reason enough in
his will. And this, well considered, would
bring us to much humble submission in all.
/ teas dumb, says David, / opened not my
month, because thou didst it. The bishop
of Troyes meeting Attila marching towards
the city, asked who he was. I am, said he,
the scourge of God. Upon this he set open
the gatts to him ; but God marvellously re-
strained the soldiers in that 'city.
But yet further, as our own guiltiness,
and God's righteousness and greatness, plead
for this compliance with his chastisements ;
so even his goodness, and our own profit in
them. There is in his chastising of his own
people very much mercy, that they may not
be condemned with the world. Their afflic-
tions have a secret stamp of love on them ;
By this is the iniquity of Jacob purged,
&c. He purifies a people in his furnace,
that they may be holy unto him, gives his
own many sweet experiences of secret support
and comfort in affliction, and seasonable de-
livery out of it, and brings them forth with
advantage, The peaceable fruits of righ-
teousness, Heb. xii. 11. He humbles and
purges a people or person, by his rods, and
prepares them for greater mercies, to enjoy
them both more sweetly and usefully ; re-
news his covenant, and the mutual endear-
ments of love betwixt himself and his people,
according to the gracious promises made to
his people, in relation to this very judgment
here threatened, and afterwards inflicted on
them, Isa. liv. Ezek. xxxvi.
We, possibly, think it strange that our
nressures and troubles still continue, and
rather grow upon us than abate ; but we
judge not wisely concerning this ; the most
part cursing and repining, others falling into
a dead, hopeless stupidness, not caring what
becomes of things. But our best course
were, to turn to him that smites us, to ac-
knowledge our rebellions and his justice, to
eye men less and God more, in our sufferings,
and confess that our provocations exceed all
that is come upon us ; to fall down humbly
before God, and take submissively his chas-
tisements. Correct me, O Lord, but with
judgment, &c. ; and with the church, /
will bear the indignation of the Lord, be-
cause I have sinned against him, Mic. vii.
9. Thus likewise in private personal correct-
ings, let us learn to behave ourselves meekly
and humbly, as the children of so great and
good a Father ; whatsoever lie inflicts, not
to murmur, nor entertain a fretful thought of
it. Besides the undutifulness and unseem-
liness of it, how vain is it ! What gain we
by struggling, and casting up our hand, to
cast off the rod, but the more lashes ? Our
only way is to kneel, and fold under his
hands, and kiss his rods, and, even while he
is smiting us, to be blessing him, sending up
confessions of his righteousness, and good-
ness, and faithfulness, only entreating for the
turning away of his wrath, though it should
be with the continuing our affliction. That is
here the style of the prophet's prayer, Cor-
rect me, O Lard, but not in anger :
and according to this suit, even where
troubles are chastisements for sin, yet a child
of God"may find much sweetness ; reading
much of God's love in so dealing with him ;
not suffering him to grow wanton, and forget
Him ; as in much ease, even his own chil-
dren sometimes do. And as they may find
much of God's love to them in sharp cor-
rections, they may raise and act much of
their love to him in oft en- repeated resign-
ments and submissions of themselves, and
readily consenting to, yea, rejoicing in his
good pleasure, even in those things that to
their flesh and sense are most unpleasant.
Now, to the petition, the averting of his
anger. That is the great request of them
that know and fear him ; and there is high
reason for it : the heaviest sufferings are
light without it ; but the least ingredient of
that adds inexpressible weight to the smallest
affliction. This it was, it is likely, which
made the visage of death so sad to holy men
in Scripture, David, Hezekiah, &c., that
at these times it had some character of God's
anger against them upon it, came to them
as a messenger of displeasure ; so a thing
small in itself may be a great curse. To be
cast out unburied is no great matter ; natu-
ral men slight it;* there is little difference,
to lie eaten of beasts above ground, or of
worms beneath ; yet when foretold to a man
as a judgment denounced from God, as
against that king, (Jer. xxii. 19,) it hath
its own weight, carrying some stamp of God's
despising him ; and though a man feels it
not when it is done, yet he feels it, looking
on it beforehand, especially as threatened of
God ; sees himself, as it were, dragged about
and torn.
Now if any little particular cross, marked
with God's present anger, become so heavy,
how much more is his abiding, prolonged
wrath ! The thing here spoken of, anger,
to which no bounds is set, that (says he, in
the name of his people) would bring me lc
nought ; there is no standing before it, it
- * Caelo tegitur, qui non habet urnam.
534
SERMON VII.
will make tne stoutest and proudest to slteke,
yea, shakes them to pieces. If the wrath
of a king be to meaner men as the roaring
of a lion, how much more terrible, even to
kings themselves, is the wrath of God !
This great King, whose voice shakes the
mountains, and makes the earth to tremble,
pie : there is matter enough for it round
about, good for nothing else, and good reason
for it, besides all other wickedness, their
spite and cruelty against thy people, for they
have eaten up Jacob.
Next, the character of the ungodly, that
are fit fuel for this fire, that know not and
armies of terrors and deaths are nothing to a i call not on thy name, that profess not, pre-
look of his angry countenance. " If he with- tend not to be thine. Tremble you that are
draws not his anger, (Job ix. 13,) the
proud helpers stoop under him ;'' the helpers
of pride, the great Atlasses of the world,
that are thought to bear up all, those that
for their wit and power are thought the sup-
porters of the kingdom, how soon are they
crushed to pieces by a touch of this anger of
God, and perish at the rebuke of his counte-
nance ! " O Lord," says that holy man,
(considering the frailty of poor man, and the
power of God,) " who knows the power of
thine anger ? Even according to thy fear so
is thy wrath ;" Psalm xc. 1 1 ; full as much,
yea, far more terrible than any can appre-
hend it.
They that dare go on in ways wherein it
may be but suspected that he is against them,
oh, they know him not. Let us consider,
and fear before him ; and, for the land, still
entreat the turning away of his wrath rather
than deliverances from any pressures. '' Lord,
while thou thinkest good farther to afflict us,
so as to draw us nearer to thee, we are con-
tent ; yea, we shall bless thee : but whatso-
ever thou do with us, suffer not thy hot dis-
pleasure to arise against us, for then we are
undone." So this is all a soul under his
hand, in affliction, ought to say, " Correct
me, but not in wrath, lest thou bring me to
nothing. Thou knowest I cannot stand be-
fore that." fie is pleassd to look to this,
and to express it, as that which moderates
his anger, even when justly incensed : Isa.
Ivii. 16. "I will not contend for ever,
neither will I be always wroth ; for the spirit
should fail before me, and the souls which I
have made :" — to lay this before him ;
" Lord, if thou wilt, how quickly and how
easily cuuldst thou break into pieces, or sink
into nothing, not only me, a little atom of
it, but the entire frame of this whole world ;
and therefore strive not with me." This
Job often represents, and God is pleased to
move himself, to restrain his wrath, and draw
forth his mercy by it. Ps. Ixxv. 38, 39,
and Ps. ciii. 14. His great compassion lays
hold on such considerations ; and this may
furnish great confidence to souls under a
sense of wrath, that do but fall down and
entreat for mercy. He that so often prevents
us, when we seek it no', will he cast any
away that seeks and sues for it ?
The diversion, briefly, is to the Heathen,
the professed and obdurate enemies of God
md his church : " Thy wrath, O Lord,
n.fiy have its course, and yet spare thy p^c.
too like these, though of repute amongst the
people of God. Seek the knowledge of God,
and worship him, families and persons, lest
this curse come upon you.
Now, this is a prophetical foretelling of
the utter destruction of the church's enemies,
whereas the church is corrected in measure,
and not destroyed. She is first punished ;
but they that come last, the enemies, the
heaviest wrath falls down there and smothers
them ; ends on them, and makes an end of
them, Jer. xxx. 11. The belief of this
may uphold the faithful in the church's
greatest distresses. When at the lowest,
then the wrath is nearest changing place,
and removing to her enemies.
And this is to be so desired and prayed
for, in reference to the implacable enemies
of God, that we beware we mix nothing of
our own interest or passion with it. As
wrath in God is without any disturbance ;"
so somewhat like is the desire of it in the
godly — calm, undistempered love of the name
of God. And so shall the saints rejoice in
the final victory and triumph of Christ over
all his enemies, and their final ruin in that
day, when they shall be made his footstool ;
then they shall have a pure complacency and
delight in his justice ; (that shall make all
even ;) and why are we disquieted, if we
hore for that day ?
SERMON VII.
ISAIAH xxx. 15 — 18.
For thus saith the Lord God, the Holy
One of Israel; In returning and rest
sha-ll ye be saved, in quietness and in
confidence shall be your strength ; and
ye would nut. But ye said, No ; for
we will flee upon horses ; > therefore
shall ye flee : and, We will ride upon
the swift ; therefore shall they that pur-
sue you be swift. One thousand shall
flee at the rebuke of one ; at the rebuke
of five shall ye flee : till ye be left as a
beacon upon the top of a mountain, and
as an ensign on an hill. And therefore
will the Lord wait, that he may be yra-
* .Estuus et tranquilius es.
SERMON VII.
c\otts unto you, and therefore u-ill be
exalted, that he may have mercy upon
you : for the Lord is a God of judg-
ment ; blessed are all they that wait for
him.
IN the sentence of that greatest and big-
gest judgment that ever yet came on the
world, the universal deluge, as we have it,
Gen. vi., that word doth most livelily express
the reason of it, My spirit shall not always
ttrive with man. For thus it is, while he
spares even his own people, he is at a conti-
nual strife with them, by gracious entreaties
and mercies, by advices and warnings and
threateuings, still contesting ; that is the way
he uses in the contest, on his part, against
refuses and revolts, and rebellions on their
part. Thus here.
The question betwixt him and his people
here is about the help of Egypt. This,
God often declares to be wholly against his
mind and their own good ; yet they on all
occasions had so strong a mind to it, that
they could not be diverted. The prophet
here hath his message concerning this point,
to preach it, and to write it, to remain ad
perpetnam rei. memoriam, as they speak,
vers. 7> 8 ; shews them plainly that this
course was wholly without the counsel and
consent of God, yea, directly against it, and
that it should succeed accordingly : The
strength of Pharaoh shall be their shame,
and their trust in the shadow of Egypt
their confusion. It shall prove to you accord-
ing to its name, a land of distress (ver. 6,)
and trouble, instead of help. And if you
would know what would suit that other name
of Egypt better, that were humble yieldance
to God, and confidence in him, (ver. 7,) —
your Rahab, your best Egypt, your truest
strength were to sit still. This is here again
represented to them, so gladly would he re-
claim them.
For thus saith the Lord. The word*
have, 1st, God's express advice to his people ;
2dly, their peremptory refusal of it ; 3dly, hi*
just sentence passed upon their obstinacy.
The advice is prefaced with the usual words
of the prophets, Thus saith the Lord ; for in
that lies the dignity and authority of the
message. His advices, doubtless, are the
choicest and the safest ; yea, his counsels are
all commands, requiring duly the most abso-
lute obedience.
The Lord Jehovah. Were but his word
known to be his, and taken so, how would
our souls melt, and yield to the impressions
of it, when we read or hear ! Oh, learn to
hear him, to take every word of his as from
his own mouth, every time the law is read,
as if thou heard it from Mount Sinai. So
think, " Now God commands me to fear
him," as if you heard him speaking from
heaven ; that would level more our opinion
of men, and make less difference of his mes-
sengers.
Another word of his style is here added,
the Holy One of Israel. This is much to
be considered by his people, the holiness of
his nature, and withal, the nearness of his
relation to them ; and so the reverence and
obedience we owe him, our deep engagement
to holiness, as his people, his children. This
is his image in us, if we are truly such. All
his sons and daughters are like him, holy as
he is holy. The blind, base world thinks it
a word of disgrace, but the great God owns
it as a chief point of his glory, a diamond of
his crown, and frequently expresses it as one
of the titles he most delights to be known by
— Holy, Holy, Holy. And as this is beheld,
the heart cannot but be filled with reverence
and holy fear, and self-abasement ; as this
prophet here, in seeing the vision, chap, xvi.,
and hearing that voice, Then said 1, woe is
me, for I am undone.
This is here used fitly to scare his people
from rebellion, the unholy way, on which they
were so bent ; and the rather, because they
were grown weary of it, and desired not to
hear this word, ver. 11, therefore the more
repeated, ver. 12, " Because you despise this
word, you shall hear it the more." The
prophet will neither be mocked nor threaten,
ed out of it, will both deliver his message,
and give the King that sent him, his own
title ; and, oh, that we knew him, according
to it ; understood what this means, the Holy
One of Israel ! He was a holy man, and
knew something, yet confesses his own igno-
rance in that point. There must be some
knowledge of it to discover ignorance of it :
Prov. xxx. 3, " I neither learned wisdom,
nor have the knowledge of the Holy."
In returning and rest, &c. la leaving
off the pains ye take in messages and journeys
to Egypt ; in humbly and quietly composing
yourselves to wait on me, and trust in me ;
submitting to my hand, in what I bring upon
you, and from the same hand, mine alone,
expecting deliverance in due time. This
does not bar the use of all lawful means ;
but as it shuts out perplexing cares and tur-
moil, even in those good means, so it ex-
pressly forbids all intermeddling with all un-
warranted ways, such as God doth not direct
us to, but rather dissuade us from.
And if this be the safest way, sure it is
the sweetest, easiest way. There cannot be
any thing easier than to be quiet and sit still,
to rest and trust, and so be safe and strong.
And as it is in this particular, so generally
it is in all the ways of God ; they are the
only easy, peaceable, sweet ways, the least
pains, and surest advantage. And the ways
of disobedience, besides what comes after,
are, even for the present, more turbulent,
laborious, perplexed ways. What a hurry
and pother are men put in to serve their lusts,
636
SERMON VII.
or their ambition ; which, if they attain, does I Jeremiah long after, in this very point, Jcr,
not quit the cost and the pains! Besides xlii. 2. And so they go on to take their own
not quit
that, their hopes often mock them ; and after
long pursuit, they embrace a shadow. Thus
men woo their own vexation, and take a
great deal more pains to be miserable than
they would be put to, to make them happy.
What a pity to pay so dear for nothing, to
give their riches and treasures, and to be at
pains too,' to carry them to a people that
shall not profit them ;« both their expense
and travel laid out to no purpose ! The vo-
luptuous, or covetous, or ambitious, how do
they project and drudge, and serve their
wretched lusts — that when they have done
one piece of service, are still to begin an-
other ! And what is the profit of all, but
shame and sorrow at last ? The humble,
sober-minded Christian saves all that pains,
and hath his heart's desire in quietness and
confidence. •)- His great desire and delight
is God ; by desiring and delighting, he hath
him : Psalm xxxvii. 4, u Delight thou in
the Lord, and he shall give thee thy heart's
desire himself;" and then, sure, thou shalt
have all : any other thing, " commit to him,
and he shall bring it to pass."{
Strange ! Men might have God atan easier
rate than the poorest vanities they are hunt,
ing after, and yet they will not : a full foun-
tain of living waters ready provided, yet they
will be at pains to hew out scurvy cisterns,
that, after all their pains, are but " broken
cisterns, and can hold no water."
I know not what men are doing, still at
work, and might better sit still ; troubling
themselves, and all about them, and cannol
well tell for what. Oh ! the sweet peace oi
believing and obeying God ! They truly con-
quer sitting still :§ in all times they are safe
under the shadow of the Almighty, and
" strong in the Lord, and in the power of his
might."
And ye would not, but said, 2Vb. Thus
men sometimes flatly reject his counsels ;
and when they are. not so gross as plainly to
speak it put, yet say so, in doing so, and for
good manners' sake, will blanch it with re-
proaching the messengers ; will not have it
to be God's mind, but men's own fancy, a
false vision ; will own nothing for truth but
what suits their humour and designs. First,
they resolve on their course without acquaint-
ing God, ask not his advice : then when he
is pleased to give it by his messengers, they
reject it, not under that name, as God's
advice, but will not have it pass for this, be-
cause it croses their already-determined course;
if it favoured that, then no question, wel-
come enough as his word. That is meant
by these words, ver. 10. And so they used
*Et oleum etoperam. f Vacat temperantia. SEN
t Sed non habebunt requiem, qui bestiam adorant.
5 Varro de Roman!* consilio cuncta asentibus
oeaendo vlncebant
course : No, but we will flee upon horses.
And this is the nature of carnal !• carts,
generally inclined to rebel, and take a way of
their own, casting the counsels of God, as
not suiting with the state, wit, or points of
honour. They find more feeling and real
substance in sensual things than in the pro-
mises of God ; these seem airy, unsure things
to them, therefore they would still see ap-
parent means, and where these fail, think it
but a fancy to rest on God, dare not trust
him so but as withal to do for themselves,
although nothing can be done but what he
forbids, which, therefore, cannot be done,
without giving up with him, and departing
from their trust on him. All this cleaves
to us, and much cause have we to suspect
ourselves, when it is but doubtful that there
appears little of no evidence of God's counsel
or good-will to a business, but rather clear
characters of his dislike, and much of our
own will, a stout uncontroulable bent to it ;
conscious to ourselves of this, that either we
have not asked advice of God at all, or very
slightly, not being much upon our knees with
it ; or, possibly, in asking his advice, have
brought our answer with us, in our own
breasts, the lying oracle, that making an •
swer, and we consenting to delude ourselves,
not hearkening to any thing that does not
clink and sound to our purpose.
Our hearts are exceedingly deceitful, and
particularly in this point of withdrawing our
trust from God, and following him iu his
ways, to trust on the arm of flesh, on policy
and strength, and self-resolved undertakings,
rather than on him without these. Evil men
think those that advise them to trust on God,
are silly fellows who know not what belongs
to policy and reasons of state : a fancied wis-
dom it is, that men are enamoured with, and
look not to a higher wisdom, consider not
God, that he also is wise, Isa. xxxi. 2.
There is, I think, in that word, a tart scorn
of the folly of their seeming wisdom. Be it
you are wits, yet you will not deny some wis-
dom to God ; yet he also is wise. So they
think not on his power neither ; therefore he
puts them in mind that the Egyptians are
men, &c. ver. 3.
Well, if you be resolved on that course,
says God, then know mine too, that I am re-
solved upon : therefore ye shall Jlee, shall
have fleeing enough ; and if you be swift,
they that pursue you shall be swifter, and
one shall serve to chase a thousand ; the re-
buke, the very terror of one. This is the
condition of the mightiest people and best ap-
pointed armies, when forsaken of God.
There is no strength nor courage, nor any
thing of worth in any of the creatures, but as
it is derived from God ; it is dependent on
turn in the continuance and use of it. Why
SERMON VII.
637
ore the valiant men swept away ? Jer. xlvi.
15, They stood not, because the Lord did
drive them. We have seen this, and the
turn of it en both sides, how men become a
prey to any party, when the terror from God
is upon them.
Therefore learn we to fear him, to beware
of all ways, wherein we may justly appre-
hend him to be against us ; cleave to him
and to his truth, when it is lowest, and when
no human means of help appear ; then think
you hear him saying to you, Stand still and
see the salvation of the Lord.
Ver. 18, Therefore will the Lord wait,
&c:. There is no language of men nor angels
fit to express the graciousness of God's pu-
nishments, and the threatenings of them, as
if it were violently drawn and forced from
him ; but mercy, and the sweet promises
thareof, naturally flowing from him. Thus,
here he is forced to '' give up his people to
their own counsels," because they will not
follow his advices ; and entreats but to be
quiet, and let him do for them : but seeing
they will not sit still, and be safe at his di-
rection, they must run their own course, and
fall in it. But it cannot pass so ; they must
not be quite given over ; the Lord hath an
interest in them that he will not lose. They
must indeed for a time eat the fruit of their
Awn ways, and that is not a season to shew
them favour ; but the Lord will wait a better
hour, he is resolved to shew them mercy, and
will find his own time for it; therefore will
he wait that he may be gracious.
And this is he moved to, according to his
gracious nature, by the greatness of their dis-
tress and desolation, though procured by
themselves, their great, their inflexible stub-
bornness ; yet he pities to see them so left
ax a beacon OH the top of a mountain, &c.
Therefore, &c. Thus we have the proper
arguings of free mercy, which otherwise, to
our narrow thoughts, may seem strange, and
somewhat inconsequent ; such a therefore as
this, so unexpectedly changing the strain,
doth genuinely and sweetly follow upon the
premises, when free love is the medium ;
that intervening in the midst, makes the
tweet turn, " Your iniquities prevail to bring
you low, and lengthen out your calamities ;
therefore I will let that have its course, and
will stay till my fit time come to do you
ftood. JNJean while I will lie hid, and be as
sitting still ; but when that time comes, I
will get up and shew myself." He will be
exalted, that he may have mercy on you ;
for the Lord is a God of judgment, he is
wise, and just, and good, and knows hisj
measures of afflicting his people, his times
and ways of delivering them, and bringing
destruction on his enemies, and will not let
slip this season; and it being so, this cer-j
tainly follows, that they are blessed that wait,
on him.
Observe, 1. The strong inclination of
God to shew mercy. He would willingly
have his people to find nothing but ease;
he delights in the prosperity of his servants ;
would have them constantly have a sweet,
peaceful, yea, cheerful life, by constant walk-
ing in his ways ; but they are often the ene-
mies of their own peace, grieve his Spirit,
and turn him to be their enemy. But he
cannot persist in that to his own ; he longs
to be at his way of mercy and loving-kind-
ness again ; he retains not his anger for ever
because mercy pleases him ; he inflicts
judgment for sin, but that he delights in is
mercy : therefore says the prophet, Lam.
iii. 32, 33, " Though he cause grief,
yet he, will have compassion, according
to the multitude of his mercies ; for he doth
not willingly afflict, nor grieve the children
of men." Though he doth grieve them,
yet not willingly ; they themselves procure
and draw on that, by grieving his Spirit ;
but he willingly shews mercy, for that
abounds. There is such a multitude and
plenty of it, that, as to full breasts, it is a
pleasure to him to let it forth. The two
words, gracious and merciful, that stand
first in the name of God, Exod. xxxiv. 6,
the one signifies free grace, the other tender
bowels of mercy. This is no embolihnent
to continue in sin ; yea, it is of all things the
most fit encouragement and inducement to a
sinner to return from his sin ; and so it is
used and urged throughout the Scriptures,
Isa. xxxi. 5, 6, and Iv. 7 ; Jer. iii. 12. In
public calamities, where a people charging
the cause thereof upon themselves, searching
their hearts and their ways, and turning unto
God, humbly acknowledging their iniquity
and entreating pardon — Oh ! this is the
thing he would not despise ; yea, it is that
he looks and longs for, and upon that would
readily forget all past disloyalties, Jer. iii.
1. Yea, at the sound of their repentings,
his bowels would resound with compassion
by a secret sympathy and harmony, as one
string well tuned to another, stirs when it is
touched. Thus, Jer. xxxi. 18 — 20.
This a sinner shall find in his returning
unto God, more than we express or promise
in his name. Oh, He waits to be gracious,
meets thee graciously, yea, hath first touch-
ed thine heart secretly, first drawn it towards
himself, before it stirred, or had a thought
that way. IS:ow, no more upbraidings, or
remembrance of all thy wanderings ; an act
of perfect oblivion is past, Jer. xxxi. 34.
Is thy heart any little softtned, and relents
it towards him ? Then the controversy it
ended, and his thoughts are now, how to
comfort thee. Art thou busy indicating
accusations against thyself? Then makes
he it his part, to wipe away and blot out.
Comest thou home with a heart full of holy
shame and grief, and thy mouth full of hum-
SERMON VII.
ble confessions of thy disobedience ? Then
know it is thy tender-hearted Father meets
thee, most ready to forgive thea ; yea, to in-
terrupt thy confessions in the middle with
embraces and kisses of love.
But, alas ! we preclude ourselves from the
sweet experiences of these tender- mercies, by
the hardness of our hearts, and by the light-
ness and vanity of them. Oh that indignity !
Our God still waiting to be gracious, to
heap up more of his love on us ; but we are
busied in other things, and not at leisure to
wait on them ! Oh, what are they, these
things that take us up? Great matters ? Alas!
sorry trifles, all day long. And when we
are at leisure, yet are not at leisure ; for then
we must take our ease, must go to- sleep :
and so still he is put off and forced to retire,
after he has stayed till " his head be iilled
with dew, and his locks with the drops of the
night."
(Jbser. 2. The Lord doth most exactly
and wisely measure both the degree and the
time of his people's afflictions, though they
have brought them upon themselves ; and
justly he might leave them so. This he
will not do ; he is a God of judgment. This
is largely and sweetly expressed, in a resem-
blance of husbandry, Isa. xxviii. 24 — 29.
He knows how much and how long outward
or inward trouble is fit for every one ; and,
where the less will serve, will not use the
more; knows what need some spirits have
to be bruised and broken beyond others,
either under disgrace and poverty, or the
proper pressures of the Spirit within, appre-
hensions of wrath, or withdrawments at
least of comforts, and hath set his days for
deliverance of his church, and of every be-
liever under affliction. So the style of the
prophet, In that day, speaking as of a cer-
tain prefixed day, and which no power or wit
of man can disappoint. And it is so chosen
as it shall be evident to be the fittest, that it
could not so well either have been sooner or
later : all things concurring to make it most
seasonable to his people, and honourable to
his own name. " The vision for the appoint-
ed time, (Hab. ii. 3,) though it tarry, wait
for it, it shall come, and shall not tarry."
That is strange, though it tarry, it shall
not tarry. But in the original there are two
words, the one importing an undue slowness,
or constrained retardment, that cannot be so.
'k It shall not tarry, though it tarry," that
is, though it stay itself, and come not till
the appointed time : so the other word sig-
nifies. Thus Ps. cii. 13. "He will arise,
and have mercy upon Zion ; for the set time
is come." Now, for this the Lord waits :
it is not want of love but abundance of wis-
dom, that he delivers not sooner : hath
chosen the fittest time, in his all-discerning
wisdom ; yet there is in his love an ea-nest
longing that the time were come.
Thus here, " He waits to be gracious." and
will be exalted, will cheerfully and gladly
raise up himself, and appear to shew mercy
to his people, and bring his enemies low ;
coming forth, as it were, to judgment, and
sitting down on his throne, in which posture
he was not seen while they prevailed and
triumphed, and his church was under their
oppression ; but when the time of their re-
storing and consolation comes, he then is to sit
on his throne, and so is exalted to shew them
mercy. Hence the Psalmist so often desires,
that the Lord would arise, (Ps. Ixxvi. 10,
xiv. 22,) and utters predictions, assuring
that he will arise ; and exciting his people
to rejoice in that, Ps. ix. 7, 8, and Ps.
xcvi., xcvii., xcviii.
Thus the church in her saddest condition
ought hopefully to remember and rest on it,
that the day is determined and cannot fail.
Our salvation is in God ; he laughs at his
enemies, when they are at the top of prospe-
rity and pride — sees that their day is coming.
Now certainly the firm persuasion of this
would much stay our minds ; but either we
do not believe, or do not improve, and use
these truths, and draw that comfort from
them, tha.t abounds in them. Our God loses
no time ; " He is waiting, till his appointed
time ;" and if he wait, it becomes us so to
do . that is our duty here, to wait on him ; this
faith does, and so makes not haste, neithei
goes out to any undue means, nor frets impa-
tiently within, at the deferring of deliverance,
but quietly rests on God, and waits for him.
This, as it is our duty, so our happiness,
;md so it is here expressed. Upon consider*
ation, that the Lord waits to be gracious,
and will be exalted to shew mercy, the pro-
phet is carried to that acclamation, to the
happiness of believers : O ! blessed thei,
that wait for him ! Their thoughts fall in,
and meet witli his : for he is waiting for
the same day they wait for ; and if he be
not disappointed, they shall not. We are
naturally irregular in our affections and
notions ; and the only ordering of them,
is by reducing them to a conformity with
the ways and thoughts of God, that keep an
unalterable, fixed course, as the heavens.
The way, I say, to rectify our thoughts is,
to set them by his ; as clocks and watches,
that so readily go wrong, too slow or too
fast, are ordered by the sun, that keeps its
course. Oh ! that we were more careful to
set and keep our hearts in attendance on God,
winding them up in meditation of him, and
conforming them in their motions and de-
sires to his disposal in all ; for all that con-
cerns us, and for the times of all, being
quiet, yea, glad in this, that the Psalmist
makes his joy, My times are in thy hands,
0 Lord ; and sure that is the best. Were
1 to choose, they should be in no other hands,
neither mine own, nor any others'. Alas !
SERMON VIII.
639
what silly poor creatures are we ! How
little do we know what is fit for us in any
kind ; and still less what time is fit for any
mercy to be bestowed upon us ! When he
withholds mercies or comforts for a season,
it is but the due season ; it is but to ripen
them for us, which we in childish haste
would pluck green, when they would neither
be so sweet nor so wholesome. Therefore it
is our wisdom and our peace to resign all
things into his hands, to have no will nor
desires, but only of this, that we may still
wait for him ; all shall be well enough, if
we be but rid of the vain hopes and expecta-
tions of this world. None who indulge them
are so well, but they are still waiting for
somewhat further. Now, amidst all that,
our soul may say with David, and speak it
to God, as known to him, that it is so in-
deed : " And now, Lord, what wait I for ?
lUy hope is in thee." My expectation, or
waiting, the same word that is here, is all
placed rtpon thec. Is it so, my brethren ? Are
our hearts gathered in from other things, to
this attendance, while the most about us are
gaping for the wind ? Have we laid all up in
God. to desire and trait for him, and pretend
to nothing besides him ?
I would do so (may a soul think) ; but
can I hope that he will look on me, and be-
stow himself on such a one as 1 am ? To
that I say nothing but, look on his word :
if thou thinkest that warrant good enough,
here it is for thee, that they are certainly
blessed who w ait for him. This is assurance
enough. Never was any that waited for
him miserable with disappointment. Who-
soever thou art that dost indeed desire him,
and dcsircst to wait for him, sure thou resol-
vest to do it in his ways, wherein he is to
be found, and wilt not willingly depart fron
these ; that were foolishly to deceive thyself,
and not be true to thine own end ; therefore
look to that ; do not keep company with anj
sin ; it may surprise thee sometimes as an
enemy, but let it not lodge with thee as a
friend.
And mind this other thing — prescrib
nothing to God. If thou hast begun ti
wait, faint not, give not up, wait on still
It were good reason, were it but upon little
hope, at length to find him ; but since it i
upon unfailing assurance, that in the ent
thou shall obtain, what folly were it, to los
all, for want of waiting a little longer ! Se<
Ps. xl. 1. " In waiting, I waited, waite<
and better waited," but all was overpaid
he did hear me : so Ps. cxxx. : " I wai
and wait, until the morning." These tw
joined are all, and may well go together —
earnest desire, and patient attendance.
These words, as others of the prophet'
we call consolations, I conceive, look beyon
the deliverances from outward troubles, t
the great promise of the Messias. Sure
m, the strain of something following is too
igh for that, and cannot but have an aspect
o the days of the gospel, as that, ver. 26
Vow, the Lord hath set his time, that/w/-
ess of time for the coming of the blessed
>on in the flesh, and till that time come,
he Lord was waiting to be gracious, to
pen up his treasures more fully than ever
icfore ; which when he did, then was he ex-
ited to shew mercy, and exalted in shewing
riercy. Christ himself was lifted up upon
he cross, there to shew that rich mercy that
s for ever to be admired ; lifted up, to shew
iis bowels, as the word is here. Did he
not let us see into his heart, there to read
hat love which can no otherwise be uttered ?
And in that the Lord was most eminently ma-
nifested a God of judgment; wisdom, and jus-
ice, and mercy, all shining brightest in that
contrivance. There He was lifted up, and then
fter that lifted up into glory, who is the
desire of the nations, the salvation and joy
of all ages, both before and after. Before
le came, they were from one age to another
vaiting, and more particularly at the time
of his coming ; God stirred up the expecta-
ion of believers to welcome him ; being so
near. Luke ii. 25, 38. And in all times,
jefore and after that, he is the happiness of
souls, and they only are blessed that wait for
lim. Whether you do or do not believe it
low, the day is coming, when all the world
shall know it to be so.
SERMON VIII.
JEIIEMTAH xiv. 7 — 9-
O Lord, though our iniquities testify
against its, do thou it for tlnj name's
sake ; for our lackslidings are many,
ice have sinned against thee. O the
hope of Israel, the Saviour thereof in
time of trouble, why shonldcsl thou be as
a stranger in the land, and as a way-
faring man, that lurneth aside to tarry
for a night ? Why shonldest thou be as
a man astonished, as a miyhty man that
cannot save? Yet thou, O Lord, art in
Ihe midst of us, and we are called by thy
name ; leave us not.
IF we look backwards and forwards in
this chapter, we find the three great execu-
tioners of God's anger in the world foretold,
as having received commission against ihis
people.
In all troubles felt or feared, this is still
the great recourse of them that are acquainted
with it, and can use it, PRAYER. And
{,40
SERMON Vlir.
their labour in it is not altogether lost, even
where the judgment is determined and un-
alterable, as here it was ; for some mitigations
of time and measure are desirable, and by
prayer attainable : and whatsoever there is
of that kind, the prayers that have been made
long before, have had a concurrence and in-
fluence in it, and always at the least, prayer
carries the personal good of them that present
it ; if it return unto their bosom, as David
speaks, without effect for others, it returns
not thither empty, brings peace and safety
thither with it : they save their own souls.
The mourners, if they turn not away the
destroyers' weapons from the city, yet they
procure one sent along with them, with an
uikhorn for their own marking and sparing
And were there nothing in this, nor any
following effect, prayer hath within itself its
own reward : did we know it, we should
think so. Tne very dignity and delight of
so near access to God, to speak with him so
freely, this in itself is the most blessed and
honourable privilege that the creature is ca-
pable of; it is a pledge of heaven, something
of it beforehand, a standing in pretension to
the life of angels* (to be but a little lower
as the word is, Ps. viii. 5). Many practise
a form : few know the vital sweetness of it.
Oh, my brethren, be aspiring to more
heavenliness, and a higher bent of the sou
in it than yet you know, and use it .more tha
way ; use it for yourselves and others, ttm
whole land, these kingdoms, the church o
God through the whole earth. We have
seen no times wherein it hath been more need
ful, and none wherein less plentiful ; there is
none that stirs up himself to lay hold or
God. Some, no doubt, there are in these
times ; yet so few, so general a decay anc
negligence in the zeal and frequency of prayer
that, to speak of, there is none. And is i
not so now with us ? Many discourse or.e t
another, and yet, most to little or no purpose
but little is spoken where nothing would b
lost in humble supplication to God : and thi
is the saddest sign of that long-lasting (rouble
Oh ! pity the kingdom and yourselves, am
learn to pray.
This prayer of the prophet is made up c
the two usual ingredients, confession an
petition.
O Lord, Jehovah. A chief point of praye
is, the presenting of the soul before Goc
remembering to whom we speak, that it is t
the great King, the holy God ; which thi
expresses, where it is indeed, when we say
O LORD, or should remind us of, when w
forget it, to have such apprehensions as w
can reach, of his glorious M ajesty . Conside:
if we find our hearts filled with Him whe
we are before him. Oh, how seldom think
we that He is God, even while we speak to
Him, and how quickly do we forget it, and
« Angelonim candidati, TKRTUIL.
t slip that thought ! When we have tny
ling of it, how soon are we out of it, and
nultiplying vain words ; for so are all those
'e utter to Him without this. Oh ! pray to
e taught this point of prayer, and watch
ver your hearts in prayer, to set them thus,
when you enter to him, and to call them in
hen they wander, and pluck them up when
hey slumber, to think where they are, and
•hat they are doing.
Our iniquities testify against us. Con-
ession fitly begins. All the difference be-
wixt God and us, lies in this, our iniquities.
Now, humble confession is one great article of
>acification ; it is a thing judgment certainly
aims at, Hosea v. 15, a thing mercy is mainly
noved with, Psalm xxxii. 5, Jer. xxxi. 18.
When we are to encounter any enemy or
lifficulty, it is sin weakens us. Now, con-
"ession weakens it, takes away the power of
accusations, anticipates the great accuser,
eaves him nothing to say, takes off" the stroke
of sins testifying against us — says, " You
need not, I confess all, and more than you
can say."
For this, a right knowledge of God's law
s requisite, and then a diligent use of it ;
laying it to our ways, as a straight rule to
shew our unevenness, which, without it, we
discern not. Set that glass before you ; but,
withal, beg light from heaven to see by,
otherwise our applications to this work of
searching our hearts, and comparing them
with the law, is but poring in the dark, where
nothing is to be seen of our spots, though we
set the glass before us, and open the leaves
of it. '* The spirit of a man is the candle of
the Lord ;" but it is so when he lights it,
and directs a man by it into himself, to see
the secret corners and pollutions that lie hid
within him. Sin discovered by this light,
appears in its native vileness, and that makes
lively resentments and confessions.
Their confession of sin is varied here in
three several expressions, none of them empty ;
the adding one to another, testifying a deep
sense, and each of them having much undei
it, when issuing from an awakened, sensible
mind.
Our iniquities testify against us. This
expresses a deep and clear conviction. Oui
iniquities are undeniable ; they stand up and
give in witness against us, and we cannot
except against them, nor deny the charge
they lay.
And thus it shall be with all transgressors
in their day, and with each of us. It is no!
far off; our particular day, it is coming, when
the most ignorant shall be forced to know,
and the most obstinate and impudent shall
be forced to acknowledge, their iniquities.
Such as now will not be warned and con-
vinced, that hide their sin as men, as Adam,
that sbew themselves in that his children,
they (as he) shall be called for, and forced
SERMON VIII.
041
to come out of the thickets, and convicted
of their disobedience. This, men find some-
times in a day of distress, when some out-
ward or inward pressure seizes on them, lays
on the arrest, and brings them to stand and
hear what these witnesses have to say against
them. Howe-ver, there is a day coming for
this at the long-run, a day of particular judg-
ment for each one, and that great solemn day
for all together ; the light of that fiery day
shall let them see to read the bill they would
not look on sooner.
If men would consider this, when sin is
speaking them fair, and enticing them, in
how different a style it will afterwards speak ;
it would spoil the charm of it, as Solomon
speaks of the strange woman, Prov. v. 4.
So are all the ways of sin. Those same sins
that looked so pleasing and friendly, and en-
treated thee, shall appear again in another
tune, and with other language, to witness
against thee, and cry for vengeance. Men
think sin evanishes as it is acted, and forget
it as if they were to hear no more of it, and
know not that it shall all be forthcoming
again, even thoughts, words, and actions.
All is kept for a court day ; " Iniquities
sealed up in a bag," as Job speaks ; as writs
to be produced in the process against thee.
Oh ! how little know you, what the amaze-
ment is of a man's sins surrounding him,
and testifying against him, that he is a rebel
against God, and to be condemned ; and no
scarcity, such multitudes of them, one com-
pany succeeding another, as that word, Job
x. 17, " Thou renewest thy witnesses against
me ;" not by twos or threes, but thousands,
armies of them. This is more affrightful
than to be encompassed with drawn swords,
or to see a whole army march upon a man ;
it were nothing to these bands mustered up,
Ps. 1. 21.
There is no way to escape but by preven-
tion, taking a day before-hand to judge thy-
self, and call these witnesses, and hear them,
and pass sentence : this would save the
labour. God is desirous to have the matter
thus anticipated, and turns it over to thee,
to judge thyself, that he may not judge.
Why defer we ? is it not worth the while
and the pains ? And then for that day, when
it would seem so terrible to have these wit-
nesses stand up, thy safety is, having judged
and condemned thyself, to take sanctuary in
Christ, and make him thy advocate, to an-
swer all for thee. He can and will do it to
the full ; yea, he hath already answered all
that thy sins, were they many more, can say.
Oh, happy the man that takes this course.
Sin not upon this account ; none sure will do
that. " These things I write unto you, that
ye sin not :" but then if any man not so
minded do sin, here is that comfort, " We
have an advocate with the Father, Jesus
Christ the righteous."
Our backslidings are many. This is the
double dye of his people's sins ; they are
not simple transgressions, but treacheries,
revolts, breaches of promises, of covenant
and vow, turnings back, going out from God,
adultery, prostituting their hearts to idols, to
base lusts ; a heart professed to be married
to its Maker, running a-gadding after strange
vanities. And who of us hath not this sadly
to say against himself? " How often have
I vowed myself thine, and with some kind of
hopes and purpose to have been true to it ;
but how soon hath all evanished !" Oh !
the unspeakable unfaithfulness, not only ot
common formal professors, but of real believ-
ers ! And these provoke God highly, go
most to his heart — to be slighted by his own,
to whom he hath so particularly shewn him-
self, and imparted of his love.
And we have sinned against Thee. This
that comes last, seems to sound least ; but J
take it as meaning most ; as if they would
have aimed at particular confession ; and
then seeing such a huge multitude, and no
end, were forced to retire, and shut up all in
this general word — " We might and would
speak of many things, but they are too many
— we are overwhelmed. What shall we say ?
We have sinned against Thee ;" Thu«
Job, / have sinned against thee, what shall
f do unto thee ? As in David's confession,
Ps. li. 4. THEE, the great, the holy God,
our God. This were our business, instead
of much discourse and debate of things, to
fall down and confess unto God ; begin at
ourselves, our own breaches and backslidings,
and then add the public national guiltiness.
Oh ! we are a sinful people, and few lay it
to heart. All ranks are highly guilty ; and
where are they that retire and mourn for their
abominations ? Those, continued and multi-
plied, are the continuers and multipliers of
our plagues, sword and pestilence, and threat-
enings of famine. If you have a mind to do
any thing for the land, and for yourselves,
your families and little ones, oh ! apply to this
work, to confess and bewail our iniquities ;
it may be, yea, I dare say, it shall be, the
Lord will return and have mercy on us.
O Lord, though our iniquities testify
against us. In all our approaches unto God,
it is a prime thing to take him up according
to his name ; this is the very ground of the
access and confidence of sinners, and there is
no coming near him without it. We have
heard it, that He is the Lord, merciful and
gracious, &c. Not so much as confessions
can be made without this, much less petitions
presented ; instead of coming to fall down
before him, to acknowledge sin, the soul
would run quite away, and though that were
in vain, would seok to hide itself, that it
might not at all appear. But apprehending
his goodness and readiness to forgive, this
draws the heart to him ; and being drawn in,
542
SERMON VIII.
this makes it melt before him. In this some
Christians mistake much, when they hold
off from the apprehensions of God's gracious-
ness, to the end that they may be the more
humble and deeply affected with their sins.
No, no ; this is that which warms, and sof-
tens, and makes the soul pliable, fit to re-
ceive any form from his hand. Therefore
the people of God, and the prophets in their
name, still lay hold on that, and interweave
it both with their confessions and petitions,
as the main ground of their confidence in pre-
senting both.
The petition i». in these two words, that
begin and close, Do for us : leave us not.
The rest is argument, backing and pressing
the petition with familiar and pathetical ex-
postulations ; and in them the whole strength
of the argument lies in a mutual interest,
that they ore his people, and he is their
God But take the words as they lie.
Do thou for thy name's sake. It is not
expressed what or how, and it is best so ;
that is referred to him that knows what is
best, which we do not. It is in general an
act of grace that is sued for ; but, for the
way and time, all is put in his hand. True
it is, that sometimes prayer is and must be
somewhat more particular, upon particular
warrant, or upon account of the common li
berty that God gives his children, to present
freely the particular thoughts and desires of
their hearts to him ; but it is good always to
close tli us, or that it be understood so, when
not expressed, that we resign that matter to
him, to make his own choice of things, and
use his own way. Only we entreat his fa-
vour, and owning of us, and our condition,
that he be for us, and do for us ; and this
is snfe and sweet, to let him choose. We
often perplex ourselves about that which lies
not in our way, and is not our part to be
busied in — what things shall be done. This
he undertakes for, and will be careful of. Be
not afraid. Ps. xxxvii. 5, Commit thy way,
roll thy way upon the Lord, trust on the
Lord, and he will do it. There is no more.
In the Hebrew, it is, " Turn it over to him,
and be quiet, and let him alone, he will do
well enough." Besides, that is all reason :
if men knew what peace of spirit there is in
this resignment, they would choose it before
any way that can be thought on, and it never
yet repented any that chose it.
For thy name's sake. This is the unfail-
ing argument that abides always the same,
and hath always the same force, when no-
thing is to be said for ourselves but guilti-
ness ; yet this name we may plead by :
" Though our iniquities testify against us,"
as the Hebrew word is, " Though they re-
turn us harsh answers, as from thee, speaking
nothing but just refusals of our suits, and re-
jeaing of ourselves ; yet, Lord, remember
thy own name ; and from thence we look for
a better answer. Do according to that, and
'for thy name's sake, in regard of strangers
and enemies, that will reproach thy name,
in the ruin of thy people ; and thy name's
sake, in regard of thy people's knowledge of
it and confidence in it, that in all their straits
do expect their help from thee, thy promises
made to them, and covenant made with them.
In these is thy name, and they do cast them-
selves, and rely on it. Now see, whether it
may be for thy glory to cast them off. What-
soever we are, look to thine own interest,
and do for that ; do for thy name's sake."
In the next clause, and more particularly,
a part of his name is expressed, the hope of
Israel ; that is a piece of his royal style, by
which he is known in the world. And in
this appeareth the wonderful condescension
and bounty of God to his creatures, to choose
a number of persons, that he will pass his
word to engage himself to be theirs. Not
only to forgive us who are his debtors by oui
sins, but to become himself a debtor to us by
his promises ; and he loves to be challenged
on them, and pressed with them. It is a
maxim of court-flattery, that mean persons
ought not to urge a king upon his word ; but
this greatest King takes nothing better from
the meanest of his subjects. " Lord, thou
hast undertaken the protection of us thy peo-
ple, and now it lies upon thee, in point of
honour and truth, to save us."
The hope of Israel. All people, and everj
man, have something they rely on and make
their hope, and they often choose the mos'
broken, rotten hopes, which fail while thej
lean upon them, and not only fail, but hurt
them, as Egypt proved to Israel. There-
fore it proved as a broken reed, that not only
flew in pieces in their hand, but the splintei
ran up into their hand and hurt them. How
often have we found it thus, been disappoint-
ed, yea wounded by our vain hopes, " pierc-
ed through with many sorrows !" as the apos-
tle speaks of those that love and trust it
riches. Therefore Job disclaims this, that
he never made gold his God : // / made
gold my hope, chap. xxxi. 24. There is a
word of one of his friends speaking, chap,
xxii. 25, " The Almighty shall be thy de-
fence ;" the word is, " The Almighty shall
be thy gold." To them that account and
make him so, he is both ; for they are rich
enough in him, in the greatest scarcity, and
safe enough in him, in the greatest danger.
But would you look to it, inquire well
what is thy hope, what thy heart readiest
turns to, and cleaves to, to comfort itself in
any distress, yea, in the times of the greatest
ease. What are thy thoughts most biassed
and turned to, with oftenest and deepest
delight ? Canst thou say, it is to God ? That
thy heart hath got that retreat, and is inured
to that ; is frequently there throughout the
day ; turns by, or passes over husband, or
SERMON VIII.
543
wife, or children, or riches, or delights, or ; or to the quality of men who undertake for
any tiling which stands in thy way, and stays j us : but if we do so. yet shall that prove oar
not, till it be at him, and there rejoices in ' shame and disappointment ; and it shall never
his love ; sits down under his shadow content ' go well with us, till our dependence and con.
and happy, willing that others should rule h'dence come clear off from all creatures, and
and share the world as they please ; that thou ! fix themselves entirely upon him who is our
dost not envy them, yea, canst even pity shield and our strength.
them, with all their gay hopes and great
projects ? Yea, though thou do not find at
all times, yea, possibly, scarce at any time,
that sensible presence of God, and shining of
his clear discovered love upon thee, yet still
he is thy hope ; thou art at a point with all
the world, hast given up all to wait on him,
and hope for him ; dost account thyself richer
in thy simple hope, than the richest man on
earth is in his possession ? Then art thou
truly so ; for the hope of God is heaven be-
gun, and heaven complete is the possessing
of him.
The Saviour, not exempting from trouble,
but saving in time of trouble. The reason
for Israel's trouble lay in in their own sin
and security, and abuse of ease and peace ;
but yet they were not left to perish in trouble,
but had a Saviour in lime of trouble, who
was then most eyed and considered, and found
to be so. In the furnace, both the faith of his
people and the truth of his premises are tried.
The children of God were much beholden
to their troubles, for clear experiences of
themselves and of God ; <ind in this indeed
is the virtue of faith, to apprehend God as a
Saviour in time of trouble, before he come
forth and manifest himself to be so.
Wicked men have their times of trouble
too, even here, but have no title to this
Saviour.* If themselves, or friends, or means
can help them, it is well ; but they can go
no further. But the church, the Israel of
God, when all help fails on all hands, have
one great recourse that c.mnot fail, the strong
God, her Hope and Saviour in. time of
trouble, or straitness. When there is no
way out, he can cut out a way through the sea,
ian divide their enemies, or whatsoever is
;heir greatest difficulty, and make a way
through the middle of it. Well might he
say, Happy art thou, O Israel, who is like
ttnto thee, O people saved by the Lord, the
shield of thy help ? &c. Men are under-
.•aviours in outward deliverances, so it is said,
fie raised them up saviours. But he is
THE SAVIOUR. All others have their com-
missions from him. All their strength and
all their success is from him. Without him,
no strength, nor wit, nor courage, avails : all
falls to pieces when he withdraws his hand.
Give us help from trouble ; for (says the
church) vain is the help of man. We have
found this, if any people ever did, and have
had real lectures, to teach us to cease from
man ; for wherein is he to be accounted of ?
Vet still we are ready to look to multitudes,
• Suse fortunx fabri.
Thus should a soul in particular distress,
especially inward, wherein the help lies most
incomnumicably and immediately in God's
own hand, learn to trust him. And though
thou art not clear in thy interest as a believer,
yet, plead thy interest as a sinner, which
thou art sure of. God in our flesh hath en-
larged the nation of Israel ; all that will but
look to him, he is their Saviour. Look unto
me, and be saved, all the ends of the earth.
Now, he hath styled himself the Saviour of
sinners ; press him by that : " Lord, I do
look for thee ; do for me, O Saviour ; help,
I am in trouble." So, in any particular
temptation, either to sin or to distrust because
of sin, say, '' Now, Lord, here is an oppor-
tunity for thy power and thy grace to glorify
itself." And though thou find thyself sink-
ing, yet believe, and thou shall not drown.
Why shoitldest thou be as a stranger, &c.
The main thing desired was his constant
abode with them. Some passing deliver-
ances he had wrought ; but that was not
enough. He came as a stranger, to stay a
night, refreshed them with a transient visit,
and away again. Thus, we may say, he
hath still done for us. When we were in
desperate straits, he came and helped ; but
then we were left to such counsels as bred
us new troubles. He hath not so evidently
yet taken up his residence, though he liath
built him a house amongst us, we trust,
with that intention, to dwell with us. This
we are to sue and entreat for. Why art thou
as one astonished ? — looking on our miseries
as an amazed stranger, as not concerned in
our affairs or condition, and not caring what
becomes of us ; as a traveller, but passing
through and having no further interest nor re-
gard ; or a mighty man that cannot save, as
Samson after his hair was cut, either as wea-
ried or bound, or somewhat hindered, though
strong enough ?
" Now, Lord, look not on. Own our
sufferings, and bestir thyself. Make it ap-
pear that thou faintest not, neither art
weary, nor that any thing can stand before
thee and be thy hinderance. Break through
our sins, the greatest hinderance of all ; let
not these stop thy way, nor bind thy hands.
For thou art in the midst of us, though we
see thee not so in thy work as we desire,
yet, here we know thou art in thy special
good-will and power, as thou art in our pro-
fession and homage done to thee as our King
amongst us : that testifies thy presence.
Thou canst not so hide thyself, but there are
still some characters of thy presence. And
544
SERMON
ice are called by thy name, thy people. If
we perish, thy name being upon us, what
becomes then of it ? Therefore leave us not.
Though thou strike us, yet stay with us,
and we shall live in hope of favour and deli-
verance ; if thou go not away, our cries
and prayers, at least our miseries, will move
thee."
These things make up our plea. We are
a most unworthy people, yet, called by his
name, in covenant with him ; so his glory is
interested. We must not let go this. And
what advantage so great, as to have our in-
terest wrapt up in his ? His glory and our
safety in one bottom, to sink and swim to-
gether ; then, there is no hazard. Therefore
keep close to his interest and his covenant,
and beg his staying with us, and arising for
us, and lay hold on him for this end. It
is a pleasant violence ; and were there many
to use it towards him, our deliverance were
not far off.
SERMON IX.
LUKE xiii. 1 — 10.
There were present at that season some
that told him of the Galileans, whose
blood Pilate had mingled with their sa-
crifices. And Jesus answering said unto
them, Suppose ye that these Galileans
were sinners above all the Galileans, be-
cause they suffered such things 9 I tell
you, nay ; but except ye repent, ye shall
all likewise perish. Or those eighteen,
upon whom the lowen in Si/oam fell, and
slew /hem, think ye that they were sin-
ners above all men that dwelt in Jerusa-
lem ? I tell you, nay ; but e.rcept ye re-
pent, ye shall all likewise perish. He
spake also this parable : A certain man
had a Jig-tree planted in his vineyard,
and he came and sought fruit thereon,
and found none. Then said he unto the
diesser of his vineyard, Behold these
three years I come seeking fruit on this
fig-tree, and find none ; cut it down, why
cumbereth it the ground ? And he an-
swering, said unto him, Lord, let it
alone this year alsa, till 1 shall dig about
and dung it ; and if it bear fruit, well ,•
and if not, then after that thou shall cut
it down.
IT is no easy or common thing, to give
God's ways a right construction. For the
most part, we either let them pass unobser-
ved, or unframe our observations, looking
through those principles and passions of our
own, which give things another shape or co-
lour than what is truly theirs. This, was
here the case. This sad accident should
lave been observed by them who heard it,
and might have been spoken of them to very
jood purpose ; but our Saviour knew well
what they meant by reporting the story, and
what thoughts they had of it, and of them-
selves ; and by his answer, it would seem,
all was not right with them.
The fact here related, we have not any
further account of in sacred history, nor any
thing that we can clearly and certainly call
it in any human writer. It is commonly
conceived to have been done at Jerusalem,
where Pilate abode, and that his power was
exercised and done upon the followers of that
Judas of Galilee, spoken of Acts v. 37, being
such as denied it to be lawful to give obe-
dience to the Roman empire^ or to offer
sacrifice for the interest and good of it,
When they, it is likely, were coming to.
gether to offer at Jerusalem, and to maintain
and to spread their opinion, Pilate comes
upon them, and, while they were at the so-
lemnity, makes a sacrifice of them to that
authority they refused to sacrifice for : whe-
ther justly or no, we cannot determine ; our
Saviour does not : but if it was just, sure it
was very tragical and severe, suitable to that
character Philo gives of his disposition who
acted it.* The straining of justice, com*
monly breaks it ; a little of the other side i\
of the two, doubtless, the safer extreme.
However, this stroke, and all others, as
they come from the Supreme Hand, are righ-
teous. Whatsoever be the temper or intent
of the lower actor, and whatsoever be the
nature of the action, as from him, the sove-
reign hand of God is in them, and chief in
them. JVo evil in the city but the Lord
does it. And yet all evils, as he doth them,
are both good and well done. Actions,
whether voluntary or casual, as these two
here, yet do powerfully issue from the first
being and worker ; and, as from him, are
both unalterably certain and unquestionably
just. Thus they who here report it, seem
to have judged of this passage, that it was a
just punishment of sin. And our Saviour
contests not about that, but rather seems to
agree to them so far, and draws that warning
out of it ; he only corrects the misconceit it
seems they were in, in thrusting it too far off
from themselves, and throwing it too heavy
upon those that sacrificed.
Think ye that they were sinners, &c. ?
Though it were an error to think that all
temporal evils are intended of God as punish-
ments of some particular guiltiness, and so
be taken, as infallibly concluding against
either persons or causes as evil ; yet certainly
the hand of God upon ourselves or others, is
wisely to be considered, and it will vcxj
SERMON IX.
545
often be found a punishment pointing to the
sin ; and it is certainly an argument of very
great stiffness and pride of heart, not to ob-
serve and acknowledge it, and a sure presage
either of utter ruin, or, at least, of a heavier
stroke. Any one that is set against the
Lord, and will not be humbled, whether by
what he sees on others, or what he feels on
himself, (Isa. xxvi. 11,) shall find he hath
an overmatch to deal with, that will either
bow him or break him.
Think ye that they were sinners above
all men that dwelt in Jerusalem 9 Our
Saviour goes not to search into the quarrel,
and to condemn or justify either the one
party or the other ; that was not to his pur-
pose ; his aim was to rectify the mistake of
those he spoke to, and to draw forth from
their own relation what was most proper for
their use. Much of our hearing and telling
of news hath little of this in it ; and with
most persons it doth not relish, to wind
things that way. Some, even good persons,
do accustom themselves, and take too much
liberty, to an empty, fruitless way of enter-
tainment in this kind ; and if we make any
remark, it commonly keeps abroad, comes
not home to ourselves. Be it any judgment,
be the persons great sinners in a sinful course,
yet they are not always the greatest of all,
because they suffer and others escape, as we
re-.dily think, and they here concluded con-
cerning those Galileans.
God is to be adored and reverenced, who
useth his own freedom in this — does injus-
tice to none, yet chooses them on whom he
will do exemplary justice, and whom he will
let pass, and gives not account of this to
any. Some less wicked have been ensamples
to them that were much more wicked than
they.
Do not flatter yourselves in the conceit of
exemption from some stroke which others in
the same way with you have fallen under, or
even from some course which others have run
and smarted in, and bear yourselves big upon
the name of God's people. But tremble be-
fore the Lord, and search your own hearts ;
and let us think, though we may not be
guilty of such public, scandalous evils, as
others fall into, and are punished for, yet
how full are we of secret malice, pride and
lust, &c., and wonder at the patience of God
to ourselves, while multitudes have been
swept away round about us ! Think you
that they who have died by sword or pesti-
lence of late, were greater sinners than
we that are behind ? Oh, no ! but except
we repent, we shall all likewise perish.
Enough of these arrows are still in God's
arsenal ; and though he use not these to us,
yet remember, death and judgment and eter-
nity are before us, and they call for wise and
speedy consideration and repentance.
Oh ! you that go on in your transgres-
sions, after all that is come upon us, who
were drunkards and swearers, &c., and are
so yet, what think you, because the heat of
public judgments is abated, is there no more
fear ? Have you made a covenant with hell
and death, and gained quarter of them, that
they will not seize on you ? Oh, that will
never hold ; they will not, nor cannot keep
to you. And if you hold on your course,
when the day of visitation shall come, how
much heavier shall it be by all this forbear-
ance ! You shall wish you had been cut off
with the first. The day is at hand, when it
shall be easier for them than for you ; only
the advantage is, that there is an exception
yet sounding in your ears, Except ye repent,
ye shall all likewise perish.
I beseech you, my brethren, enter into
your own hearts, and be not always out JF
yourselves, and so out of your wits ; consider
the Lord's way and your own, and wonder
at his goodness ; why am not 1 made an ex-
ample to others, as well as so many have
been made examples to me ? Now, let me
fall down at his feet and beg of him, that as
he hath not made me an example of justice
all this while, he may now make me an ex-
ample of mercy and free grace to all that
shall look on me.
Our Saviour, to their reported instance,
adds another himself, that was no doubt late
and recent with them, to die same purpose,
and in the same strain. Think ye that they
were sinners above all men that dwelt in
Jerusalem ? I tell you, nay ; but except
ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish. Not
just after the same particular manner, but
the likeness is in perishing, " you shall as
certainly perish as they are perished ;" and
this to many impenitent sinners is verified in
their cutting off, even by some temporal
judgment, after long abused forbearance ;
and often very like those they have seen
instances of, and would not be warned by ;
thus, to many of the Jews, in the death of
many thousands of them, and the destruction
of their city by the Romans, in which there
was much likeness with the two explanatory
judgments here mentioned. But the univer-
sal and far more dismal perishing of unre-
penting sinners is, that death that lies un-
seen on the other side of that death we see,
and are so afraid to look on. Oh ! saw we
the other, this would appear nothing ; it
would be the only terrible of all terribles
indeed. And how terrible soever, it is the
unfailing attendant on impenitence. These
God hath linked together, and no creature
can sever them — continuance in sin and
perishing, repentance and life. It is faith
indeed that lays hold on our pardon and life
in Christ, and by that we are justified and
saved : yet so as this is still true, so thai
the other nowise crosses it, that there is no
life without repentance. And this wrongs
231
SERMON IX.
not the gospel at all, to preach and profess •
repentance, yea, it is a prime point of preach-
ing the gospel ; and here we find the great
preacher of the gospel, who is himself the
substance and subject of the gospel, this is
his doctrine, Except ye repent, ye shall all
likewise perish. There is no right preach,
ing of the gospel, but the doctrine of repen-
tance must be in it ; the drawing and turn-
ing of the soul to God, from whom it is gone
out by sin ; this the gospel aims nt ; and
there is no preaching of repentance without
the gospel. The law indeed discovers sin,
but that is not enough to work repentance ;
for there must be a door of hope opened to a
sinner, at which he may come in, hoping to
be pardoned and accepted, upon returning
and submitting ; this the gospel only does.
And whensoever the prophets preached re-
pentance, there was somewhat that always
expressed or imported the notion of the gos-
pel ; God declaring himself reconcileable,
ready to forgive and receive the penitent.
Now, not speaking of the nature of repen-
tance, which here were pertinent, I shall only
desire you to seek to know the nature of it
by feeling the power of it within you.* Oh,
happy they that do ! Were the sweetness ol
it known, we might persuade most by that ;
but that cannot be known, till we be persuad-
ed and brought to repentance. The delight
in those tears, the pleasure in crucifying sin,
even the most pleasant sins ; the soul then
in its right motion, when turning towards
God, finds itself moved sweetly ; but it is
thrown, and distorted, aud disappointed, in
turning from him and following sinful lusts.
But here, necessity is the argument, the
highest necessity ; if it may be necessary
for you not to perish, then it is necessary for
you to repent. Had any of you an ulcer,
though painful to be lanced, yet if told it
must be, else you would die, it would make
you call for it, and entreat it. Lord, what
is the madness of the minds of men ! Do
we believe that there is such a thing after al
that is here, as perishing and saving, eterna
death and eternal life ; and can we think on
any thing else so as to forget these, to be
slight and unresolved concerning them, ant
yet eat, and please the flesh, and seek to
make other things sure, and leave these to
their hazard ? The God who made your
hearts persuade them ; for who else can ?
The parable which follows, teaches the
same doctrine of repentance, and that upon
the motive of patience and forbearance.
Particulars should not be overstrained am
squeezed for morality ; the main is, God's
dispensation, and his expectation in his
orchard the church.
Our Saviour is much in this way of teach-
ing, calls in natural things to serve spiritual
* Male lentire compunctionem, quam scire ejus
defmitionem. THOMAS A KKMPJS
ends, and so all are fit to do, had we the
faculty to extract it. A spiritual mind draws
hat which is symbolical with it out of all :
uch may fruitfully walk in the gardens and
irchards, and feed on the best, though they
tir nothing. The great Lord is himself the
>lanter of his vineyard ; his own hand sets
:ach tree, and the soil is fruitful ; there are
sap and moisture. This is to be understood
of his visible church and ordinances ; for the
slanting here is that. Christians are often
compared to things living, growing, and
Tuitful ; as to the vine and fig tree ; there is
nigh engagement to be so, (Isa. v.) and
real Christians are truly so.
And he sought fruit thereon. Good
reason had he so to do, having so plant-
ed it. Those trees that are left wild in the
barren wilderness, no fruit is to be expected
on them, at least no garden fruit, such as
grows in the garden of God. Some natures
have some kinds of fruits, and some sweeter
than others, but they are but wild figs. God's
delight is to come into his garden, and there
eat his pleasant fruits. Natural men may,
after their fashion, be temperate, and patient,
and charitable ; but to believe on God, and
love him above themselves, and from such
principles to do all they do, this is not to be
expected.
Now, all that are planted in the church of
God, are in name such trees as should have
their sap in them, (that is, faith and love,)
and bear answerable fruits : they are called
" trees of righteousness, the planting of the
Lord, that he may be glorified," Isa. Ixi.
3. He himself knows who are indeed such,
and knows that the rest can bear no sucli
fruit ; yet in regard of outward dispensations
and their own profession, He speaks after
the manner of men ; he comes and seeks
fruit. Men that think they may live in the
face of the church, and make use of his or-
dinances, and yet be as excusably barren of
all the fruits of holiness as if they grew upon
a common heath, it is strange they should
not conceive their own folly, and know that
God reckons otherwise, and according to the
ground he hath set them in, and the manur-
ing he bestows on them, looks for some suit-
able fruit.
But the most are thus ; they consider not
what they are, think it a kind of impertinent
importunity to press them to holiness, to
meekness, to bearing wrongs, to heavenly-
mindedness, to spiritual activity, and use-
fulness to others. Why, it is strange !
What think ye, my brethren, are we Chris-
tians, or are we not ? We have a name
that we are active, and are dead ; congrega-
tions are filled with such ; and when the
Lord comes and seeks fruit, in the greatest
part, he finds none. If lies, oaths, cursings,
&c., were the fruits, enough of these ; but
zeal for God, love to our brethren, self-denial.
SERMON IX.
547
humility, if these be they, alas ! where are
they ? So much preaching, sabbaths, fasts
and covenants ; and where is fruit, the fruit
of the Spirit ? Gal. v. Oh, empty leaves,
and some promising greenness, but the most
belie the hope they give. And we of this
land, who are engaged so high, what could
have been done more ? Though lying far
north, yet have we much of the gospel sun-
shine, and are bound by our own promise,
and covenant, and solemn oath to God, to
be more fruitful ; yet this is still broke. Who
that had seen our first meltings into tears,
or fair buds of stirring zeal, could have ima-
gined we should have been so barren ?
Now, the conference with the vine-dresser
about it, though that is much for the fulness
of the parable, yet may imply God's im-
parting of his thoughts concerning his church
to his faithful ministers. Such are included
under that name here ; for he blames him
not as neglective, but complains of the bar-
renness of the tree. In the cutting down
may be some pointing at church censure ;
but, I conceive, it is rather to express God's
purpose concerning the barren tree, than to
give order or command about it. Doubtless,
the Lord would have his vine-dresser sensible
of the fruitlessness of his trees, though it be
not by any notable neglect on their part.
These three yean. This expresses the
great patience of God, that spares so long,
speaks not of cutting down at the very first.
Thus of long time hath he waited on many of
us many more years than to the strict number
here named ; on how many of us a great part
of our lifetime ? Whence is it that we are not
afraid of this word, as it were here sounding
in our ears, Cut it down ; why troubles it
the ground ? It takes up room and does
no good, yea, it hinders and prejudices others,
as all ungodly, fruitless persons in the
church of God do.
The vine-dresser entreats and obtains a
year more. This the faithful labourers of
God will not fail to do ; to preaching to his
people, they will join much prayer for them,
that they may be made fruitful, and mean
time may be spared, and not perish in their
unfruitfulness — will double their endeavours
in the sense of that danger ; to all other pains
will add this, the watering them with tears.
God is gracious, and easy to be entreated,
and forbears yet, and waits. Oh ! it is not
yet too late. Any of you that at length are
stirred to any real desires of fruitfulness to
him, I dare give you warrant to be confident
of his not only forbearing upon such a desire,
but of his favourably accepting of it, as a
good sign, yea, as already a beginning of
fruit. Indeed, in case of people remaining
barren after all, the end will be to cut down ;
and to every fruitless and godless person
amongst you, it is not long to that day — it
nill be upon you ere you are aware. As
John preached, " The axe is laid unto the
root of the trees ; therefore every tree which
bringeth not forth good fruit, is hewn down
and cast into the fire," Matt. iii. 10. God
is taking his axe, as it were, and fetching
his stroke at you, and you know not how
soon it may light, and you be cut down, and
cut off from all hopes for ever, never to see a
day of grace more, nor hear a sermon more ;
cut down and cast into the fire to burn, and
that never to end. Oh ! for some soul to
be rescued, were it even now. Oh ! To-day,
" To-day if you will hear his voice, harden
not your hearts."
Real Christians, though not altogether
barren (that is impossible), yet are not so
plentifully fruitful, little of the increases ot
God, such as he may be invited to his gar.
den for, such as the vine-dressers may rejoice
in, yea the Master himself. The Lord mak-
eth a kind of boast of us, as men will do of
trees in their gardens, that they have much
fruit, though possibly having a meaner ap-
pearance and show than most of the rest.
Oh ! what a joy and glory were it to our
God, to have unobserved, obscure Christians
abounding in sweet spiritual fruits, laden with
fruit, and hanging the head ; stooping the
lower, still the more humble for it, referring
all to himself, living to him, doing all for
him. But, alas ! we are empty vines, bring-
ing forth fruit to ourselves, serving our own
wills and humours, and barren to him. But
for this end are we planted in the house 01
God, and ingrafted into the Son of God, that
blessed living root, to be fruitful to his praise.
It is his credit ; " Herein is your heavenly
Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit."
Now for this are requisite, 1st, Much
prayer ; for though here he speaks as an or-
dinary master, yet it is his secret influence
does all, From me is thy fruit found ; and
prayer draws down that. 2d, Much faith in
Christ, living to him, and drawing sap from
him. Such as do all in his strength, and
are much in application and attraction, shall
be found the most abundant in all choice
and sweet fruits ; they that abide in him,
that is, in the very actings of faith, are more
in him than many others that are yet in him :
but, alas ! this is a thing we speak much,
and know little of.
SERMON X.
PREACHED BEFORE MY LORD COMMIS-
SIONER AND THE PARLIAMENT,
NOVEMBER 14. 1G69.
JOHN xxi. 22.
What is that to thee ? Follow thou me.
Or all that ever lived upon earth, the
548
SERMON X.
most biessed was this handful and small
company our Lord chose for his constant at-
tendants, to see his divine miracles, enjoy his
sweetest company, and to hear his divine doc-
trines. What a holy flame of love must have
burned in their hearts, who were always so near
the Sun of righteousness ! It was indeed a sad
hour wherein that was eclisped, and the Lord
of life lay dead in the grave. And what a
deluge of joy was in their hearts when he rose
again ; and what a transport was it when
they saw him ascend, and a shining cloud
kissing his feet, and parting him from them !
In the interval, as he had risen himself, so
he is raising them from their unbelief. St.
Peter, not content with a bare forsaking his
Lord, had also denied him ; but he falls not
a- quarrelling, but speaks of love to him,
and blows up these sparkles of love with this
threefold question. St. Peter answers fervent-
ly, but most modestly ; whereupon his Lord
gives him a service suitable to his love,
Feed my sheep ; for whiph none are quali-
fied but they that love him : but when he
grows bold to ask a question, he gets a grave
check and a holy command, What is that
to thee 3 Follow thou me. This was a
transient stumble in one who, but lately re-
covered of a great disease, did not walk
firmly. But it is the common track of most,
to wear out their days with impertinent in-
quiries. There is a natural desire in men to
know the things of others, and to neglect their
own, and to be more concerned about the
things to come, than about things present.
And this is the great subject of conversation :
even the weakest minds must descant upon
all things ; as if the weakest capacities
could judge of the greatest matters, by a
strange levelling of understandings, more ab-
surd and irrational than that of fortunes.
Most men are beside themselves, never at
home, but always roving. It is true a man
may live in solitude to little purpose, as Do-
mitian catching flies in his closet. Many
noisome thoughts break in upon one when
alone ; so that when one converseth with him-
self, it had need be said, Vide ut sit cum
bono viro. A man alone shall be in worse
company than are in all the world, if he
bring not into him better company than
himself or all the world, which is the
fellowship of God and the Holy Spirit.
Yet the matters of the church seem to con-
cern all, and so indeed they do ; but every
sober man must say, all truths are not alike
clear, alike necessary, nor of like concern-
ment to every one. Christians should keep
within their line. If it be the will of our
great Master, that the order that hath been
so long in the church continue in it, or not,
What is that to thee ? It is certainly a greal
error to let our zeal run out from the excel-
lent things of religion to matters which have
little or no connexion with them. And
man, though he err, if he do it calmly and
meekly, may be a better man than he who is
stormy and furiously orthodox. Our busi-
ness is to follow Jesus, and to trace his life
upon earth, and to wait his return in the
clouds. Had I a strong voice, as it is the
weakest alive, yea, could I lift it up as a
trumpet, I would sound a retreat from our
unnatural contentions and irreligious striv-
ings for religion. Oh, what are the things
we fight for, compared to the great things of
God ? There must be a great abatement of
the inwards of religion, when it runs wholly
to a scurf. God forbid any to think, that
except all be according to our mind, we must
break the bond of peace. If we have no
kindness to our brethren, yet let us have pity
on our mother, and not tear her bowels.
And, indeed, next to the grave and silent
shades of death, a cottage in some wilderness
is to be wished for, to mourn for the pride
and passion of mankind. How do the pro-
fane wretches take advantage from our breach-
es ! But if there be such here, because of
the weakness, folly, and passions of some
men, is it folly to follow Jesus ? Are some
ridiculous, and for that will you turn religion
into ridicule ? If you do, it will at last turn
to a Sardonic laughter. Because we contend
for a little, is the whole an invention ? Will
the pillars be brangled, because of the swarms
of flies that are about them ?
There is an Eternal Mind that made all
things, that stretched out the heavens, and
formed the spirit of man within him ; let us
tremble before Him, and love the Lord Jesus.
Our souls have indelible characters of their
own excellency in them, and deep apprehen-
sions of another state, wherein we shall re-
ceive according to what we have done upon
earth. Was not Jesus, the Son of God, de-
clared to be such by his miracles, but chiefly
by his resurrection from the dead ? Have not
these been received and transmitted to us,
through all ages, many martyrs following
him through racks and fires, and their own
blood, to his glory ? And shall we throw
off all these ? Better be the poorest, weak-
est, and most distempered person upon earth,
with the true fear of God, than the greatest
wit and highest mind in the world, if pro-
fane ; or though not such, if void of any just
or deep sense of the fear of God ; for a liv-
ing dog is better than a dead lion. Some
religious persons are perhaps weak persons,
yet, in all ages, there have been greater
nobles, and more generous souls truly reli-
gious, than ever were in the whole tribe of
atheists and libertines.
Let us therefore follow the holy Jesus.
Our own concernments concern us not, com-
pared to this. What is that to thee ? may
be said of all things besides this. All the
world is one great impertinency to him who
contemplates God, and his Son Jesus. Great
SERMON X.
549
things, coaches, furniture, or houses, concern
the outward pomp or state of the world, but
not the necessities of life ; neither can they
give ease to him that is pinched with any
one trouble. He that hath twenty houses,
lies but in one at once ; he that hath twenty
dishes on his table, hath but one belly to
fill ; so, ad supervacua sudatur. All are
uncertain ; sudden storms fall on, and riches
fly away as a bird to heaven, and leave those
who look after them, sinking to hell in sorrow.
A Christian is solicitous about nothing.
If he be raised higher, it is what he desires
not ; if he fall down again, he is where he
was. A well fixed mind, though the world
should crack about him, shall be in quiet :
but when we come to be stretched on our
death-bed, things will have another visage ;
it will pull the rich from his treasure, strip
the great of his robes and glory, and snatch
the amorous gallant from his fair, beloved
mistress, and from all we either have or grasp
at. Only sin will stick fast and follow us :
these black troops will clap fatal arrests on
us, and deliver us over to the gaoler. Are
these contrivances, or the dark dreams of
melancholy ? All the sublimities of holiness
may be arrived at by the deep and profound
belief of these things. Let us therefore ask,
Have we walked thus, and dressed our souls
by this pattern ? But this hath a nearer as-
pect to pastors, who should be copies of the
fair original, and second patterns, who fol-
low nearer Christ ; they should be imitating
him in humility, meekness, and contempt of
the world, and particularly in affection to
souls, feeding the flock of God. Should we
spare labour, when he spared not his own
blood ? How precious must the sheep be,
who were bought at so high a rate as the
blood of God ! Oh, for more of this divine
and evangelic heat, instead of our distemper-
ed heat. This is the substance of religion
— to imitate him whom we worship. Can
there be a higher or nobler design in the
world than to be God-like, and like Jcsua
Christ ? He became like us, that we might
be the more like him. He took our nature
upon him, that he might transfuse his to us.
His life was a track of doing good and suf-
fering ill. He spent the days in preaching
and healing, and often the nights in prayer.
He was " holy, harmless, and undefiled, and
separate from sinners." How then can heirs
of wrath follow " the Lamb of God, that
taketh away the sins of the world"? Humi-
lity, meekness, and charity, were the dar-
ling virtues of Christ. He came to expiate
and extirpate our pride ; and when that
Majesty did so humble himself, shall a worm
swell ? No grace can be where the mind is
so swelled with this airy tumour. He was
meek, and reviled not again ; nor did he vent
his anger, though he met with the greatest
injuries. The rack of his cross could make
him confess no anger against those who were
draining him of his life and blood ; all he
did was, to pray for them. Charity was so
dear to him, that lie recommended it as the
characteristic by which all might know his
disciples, if they loved one another. But,
alas ! by this may all know we are not his
disciples, because we hate one another. But
that we may imitate him in his life, we must
run the back-trade, and begin with his death,
and must die with him. Love is a death.
He that loves is gone, and lost in God, and
can esteem or take pleasure in nothing be-
sides him. When the bitter cup of the Fa-
ther's wrath was presented to our Lord, one
drop of this elixir of love and union to the
Father's will, sweetened it so, that he drank
it off without more complaining. This death
of Jesus, mystically acted in us, must strike
down all things else, and he must become our
all. Oh, that we could resolve to live to
him that died, and to be only his, and humbly
follow the crucified Jesus ! All else will be
quickly gone. How soon will the shadows
that now amuse us, and please our eyes, fly
away ?
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
.
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
LECTURE I.
INTHODUCTIOV.
WITH little strength I undertake a great
work ; or rather, with the least abilities, I
venture upon a task which is of all others
the greatest and most important. Among
the various undertakings of men, can an
instance be given of one more sublime, than
an intention to form the human mind anew,
after the Divine image ? Yet it will, I
doubt not, be universally acknowledged, that
this is the true end and design, not only of
ministers in their several congregations, but
also of professors of divinity in schools. And
though, in most respects, the ministerial
office is evidently superior to that of profes-
sors of theology in colleges ; in one respect
the other seems to have the preference, as it
is, at least for the most part, the business of
the former to instruct the common sort of
men, the ignorant and illiterate ; while it is
the work of the latter, to season with heaven-
ly doctrine the minds of select societies of
youth, who have had a learned education,
and are devoted to a studious life ; many of
whom, it is to be hoped, will, by the Divine
blessing, become preachers of the same salu-
tary doctrine themselves. And surely this
ought to be a powerful motive with all those
who, by the Divine dispensation, are employ-
ed in such a work, to exert themselves with
the greater life and spirit in the discharge ol
their duty ; especially when they consider,
that those Christian instructions, and seeds
of true piety, they instil into the tender
minds of their pupils, will by them be spread
far and wide ; and, in due time, conveyed,
as it were, by so many canals and aqueducts,
to many parts of the Lord's vineyard. Plu-
tarch employs an argument of this kind to
prevail with the philosophers to exert them-
selves in the instruction of princes and great
men, rather than with a haughty sul.enness
to avoid their company ; " for thus," says
he, " you will find a short way to be useful
to many." And, to be sure, he that convey
the principles of virtue and wisdom into the
minds of the lower classes of men, or the
illiterate, whatever progress his disciples may
make, employs his time and talents only for
the advantage of his pupils ; but he that forms
the minds of magistrates and great men, or
such as are intended for high and exalted sta-
tions, by improving one single person, becomes
a benefactor to large and numerous societies.
Every physician of generous principles, as
Plutarch expresses it,* would have an un-
common ambition to cure an eye intended to
watch over many persons, and to convey the
sense of seeing to numbers ; and a musical
instrument-maker would, with uncommon
pleasure, exert his skill in perfecting a harp,
if he knew that it was to be employed by the
hands of Amphion, and by the force of its
music, to draw stones together for building
the walls of Thebes. A learned and inge-
nious author, alluding to this fable, and ap-
plying it to our present purpose, calls pro-
fessors of theology in schools, makers of
harps, for building the walls of a far more
famed and beautiful city, meaning the
heavenly Jerusalem, in such manner, that
the stones of this building being truly, and
without a fable, living, and charmed by the
pleasant harmony of the gospel, come of
their own accord to take their places in the
wall.
I am not so little acquainted with myself,
as to entertain the least hope of success in so
great a work by my own strength and abili-
ties ; but, while I humbly depend upon the
Divine goodness and favour, I have no
reason to despair : for in the hand of Om-
nipotence all instruments are alike. Nor
can it be questioned, that he who made all
55J
INTRODUCTION.
your thoughts are dispersed and scattered in
pursuit of vanity and insignificant trifles, he
that would lay before them the principles
and precepts of this spiritual wisdom, would
commit them, like the Sybil's prophecies,
that were written on loose leaves of trees, to
the mercy of the inconstant winds, and there-
by render them entirely useless. It is cer-
tainly a matter of great difficulty, and re-
quires uncommon art, to fix the thoughts of
men, especially of young men and boys, and
turn them in upon themselves. We read in
the parable of the Gospel concerning the pro-
digal son, that, first of all, he came to him-
self, and then returned to his father. It is
certainly a very considerable step towards
conversion to God, to have the mind fixed
upon itself, and disposed to think seriously
of its own immediate concerns ; which the
pious St. Bernard excellently expresses in
this prayer, " May I," says he, " return from
external objects to my own inward concerns,
and from inferiorobjectsrise to those of a supe-
rior nature."* I should look upon it as. no
small happiness, if out of this whole society
I could but gain one ; but wish earnestly I
could prevail with many, and still more
ardently that I could send you all away,
fully determined to entertain more serious
and secret thoughts than ever you had before,
with regard to your immortal state and eter-
nal concerns. But how vain are the thoughts
of men ! What a darkness overclouds theii
minds !-f- It is the great complaint of God
concerning his people, that they have not a
heart to understand.^. It is at once the
great disgrace and the misery of mankind,
that they live without forethought. § That
brutish thoughtlessness, || pardon the expres-
sion, or, to speak more intelligibly, want of
consideration, is the death and ruin of souls ;
and the ancients observe, with great truth
and justice, " that a thoughtful mind is the
spring and source of every good tiling."^"
It is the advice of the Psalmist, that we
should converse much with ourselves : an
advice, indeed, which is regarded by few ;
for the greatest part of mankind are no where
greater strangers than at home. But it ii
my earnest request to you, that you would
be intimately acquainted with yourselves,
yet condescends to instruct the hearts of men j and, as becomes persons devoted to a studious
ou this earth, may effectually impress them life, be much at home, much in your own
things out of nothing, can produce any
change he pleases in his creatures that are
already made ; he who gives life, and breath,
and all things,* can easily strengthen the
weak, and give riches in abundance to the
poor and needy. Our emptiness only serves
to lay us open to, and attract the fulness of
Him " who fills all things, and is over all ;
who gives wisdom to the mind, and prevents
its irregular sallies. "+•
Under his auspices, therefore, young gen-
tlemen, we are to aspire to true and saving
wisdom, and to try to raise ourselves above
this sublunary world. For it is not my in-
tention to perplex you with curious questions,
and lead you through the thorny paths of
disputation : but, if I had any share of that
excellent art, it would be my delight to di-
rect your way through the easy and pleasant
paths of righteousness, to a life of endless
felicity, and be myself your companion in
that blessed pursuit. I should take pleasure
to kindle in your souls the most ardent de-
sires, and fervent love of heavenly things ;
and, to use the expression of a great divine,
add " wings to your souls, to snatch them
away from this world, and restore them to
God."$ For, if I may be allowed to speak
witli freedom, most part of the notions that
are treated of in theological schools, that are
taught with great pomp and ostentation, and
disputed with vast bustle and noise, may
possibly have the sharpness of thorns ; but
they have also their barrenness : they may
prick and tear, but they can afford no solid
nourishment to the minds of men. " No
man ever gathered grapes of thorns, nor figs
of *histles." " To what purpose," saith a
Kcmpis, " dost thou reason profoundly
concerning the Trinity, if thou art without
humility, and thereby displeasest that Tri-
nity ?"§ And St. Augustine, upon the
words of Isaiah, " I am the Lord that
teacheth thee to profit," observes with great
propriety, that the prophet here mentions
utility in opposition to sub till ty.|j Such
are the principles I would wish to communi-
cate to you ; and it is my earnest desire and
fervent prayer, that while I, according to
my measure of strength, propose them to
your understanding, He who sits in heaven,
upon your minds.
But that you may be capable of this su-
pernatural light and heavenly instruction, it
is, first of all, absolutely necessary, that your
minds be called off from foreign objects, and
turned in upon themselves ; for as long as
-
\ 'Of irxtrtt
, XCU XKtTX.
'Of irxtrtt srAjjjoi, ttvio ravro: fJUm'
'Oi taut «•«$<{«, tuna Qtwyii ftXatit-
ri'vycd* T«; -/yyaf, ot-o^occ-otv xoirfjL6Ut ouvati $$f*>>
§ Quorsum alta de Trlnitate disputare, si careas
humilitate, et sic Trinifcite diipliceas ?
il UtUia non subtilia
company, and very often engaged in serious
conversation with yourselves. Think gravely,
To what purpose do I live ? Whither am I
going ? Ask thyself, hast thou any fixed and
determined purpose ; any end thou pursuest
with stedfastness ?** The principles I have
• Ab exterioribus ad iuteriora redeam, et ab inferi-
oribus ad superiors ascendam.
t O vanas nominum mentes! O pectora caxn !
f Non habent cor ad cogitandum.
J Arjovotirap;- 0 A°CU}.M.
U Intellectus cogitabunclus prlncipium orrmls b nl.
•! Kst alujiiid qus tcndUi el in uid dirigis arcum.'
OF HAPPINESS.
embraced under the name of the Christian
religion, the things I have so often heard
about a future state, and life, and death
eternal, are they true or false ? If they are
true, as we all absolutely profess to believe
they are, then, to be sure, the greatest and
most important matters of this world are
vain, and even less than vanity itself: all
our knowledge is but ignorance, our riches
poverty, our pleasures bitterness, and our
honours vile and dishonourable. How little
do those men know, who are ambitious' of
glory, what it really is, and how to be at-
tained ! Nay, they eagerly catch at the
empty shadow of it, while they avoid and
turn their backs upon that glory which is
real, substantial, and everlasting. The
happiness of good men, in the life to come,
is not only infinitely above all our expres-
sions, but even beyond our most enlarged
thoughts. By comparing, however, great
things with small, we attain some faint no-
tion of these exalted and invisible blessings,
from the earthly and visible enjoyments of
this world. In this respect even the Holy
Scriptures descend to the weakness of our ca-
pacities, and, as the Hebrews express it,
u the law of God speaks the language of the
children of men."* They speak of this
celestial life, under the representations of an
heritage, of riches, of a kingdom and a crown,
but with uncommon epithets, and such as
are by no means applicable to any earthly
glory, or opuience, however great. It is an
inheritance, but one that is uncorrupted,
undefiled, and that fadeth not away : a king-
dom, but one that can never be shaken, much
less ruined : which can never be said of the
thrones of this sublunary world, as evidently
appears from the histories of all nations, and
our own recent experience. Here, ye sons
of Adam, a covetous and ambitious race,
here is room for a laudable avarice ; here
are motives to excite your ambition, and, at
the same time, the means of satisfying it to
the full. But it must be acknowledged,
that the belief of these things is far from
being common. What a rare attainment is
faith ! Seeing among the prodigious crowds
of those who profess to believe, in this world
one might justly cry out, where is a true be-
liever to be found ? That man shall never
persuade me, that he believes the truth and
certainty of heavenly enjoyments, who cleaves
to this earth, nay, who does not scorn and
despise it, with all its baits and allurements,
and employ all his powers, as well as his
utmost industry, to obtain these immense and
eternal blessings.
Nor is there any thing in the way to these
enjoyments that can deter you from it, unless
holiness in heart and life appear to be a
heavy and troublesome task to you : where-
as, on the contrary, nothing surely can be
* Lex Dei loquitur linguam filiorum hominum.
named, that is either more suited to the
dignity of human nature, more beautif il and
becoming, or attended with greater pleasure.
I therefore beseech and entreat you, by the
bowels of divine mercy, and by your own
most precious souls, that you would serious-
ly consider these things, and make them your
principal study. Try an experiment, attend-
ed with no danger or expense ; make a trial
of the ways of this wisdom, and I doubt not
but you will be so charmed with the pleasant-
ness thereof, that you will never thencefor-
ward depart from them. For this purpose,
I earnestly recommend to you, to be constant
and assiduous in prayer ; nay, it is St.
Paul's exhortation, that you pray without
ceasing.9 So that prayer may be not only,
according to the old saying, " the key that
opens the day, and the lock that shuts up
the night ;f but also, so to speak, a staff for
support in the day-time, and a bed for rest
and comfort in the night ; two conveniences
which are commonly expressed by one single
Hebrew word. And be assured, that the
more frequently you pray, with so much the
greater ease and pleasure will your prayers
be attended, not only from the common and
necessary connexion between acts and habits,
but also from the nature of this duty ; for
prayer, being a kind of conversation with
God, gradually purifies the soul, and makes
it continually more and more like unto him.
Our love to God is also very much improved
by this frequent intercourse with him ; and
by this love, on the other hand, the soul is
effectually disposed to fervency, as well as
frequency in prayer, and can, by no means,
subsist without it.
LECTURE II.
Of HAPPINESS, its Name and Nature,
and the Desire of it implanted in the
Human Heart
How deep and dark is that abyss of misery,
into which man is precipitated by his de-
plorable fall, since he has thereby lost not
only the possession, but also the knowledge
of his chief or principal good ! He has so
distinct notion of what it is, of the means of
recovering it, or the way he has to take in
pursuit of it. Yet the human mind, however
stunned and weakened by so dreadful a fall,
still retains some faint idea, some confused
and obscure notions of the good it has lost,
and some remaining seeds of its heavenly
original.} It has also still remaining a kind
of languid sense of its misery and indigence
» 1 Th'ss. Y. 17. t Clavis du i. et sera noctis.
$ Cognati strain* caeli.
OF HAPPINESS.
with affections suitable to those obscure no-
tions. From this imperfect sense of its
poverty, and these feeble affections, arise
some motions and efforts of the mind, like
those of one groping in the dark, and seek-
ing rest every where, but meeting with it no
where. This, at least, is beyond all doubt,
and indisputable, that all men wish well to
themselves, nay, that they all catch at, and
desire to attain the enjoyment of the most
absolute and perfect good : even the worst
men have not lost regard for themselves, nor
can they possibly divest themselves of it.
And though, alas ! it is but too true, that,
as we are naturally blind, we run ourselves
upon misery under the disguise of happiness,
and not only embrace, according to the com-
mon saying, " a cloud instead of Juno,"* but
death itself instead of life ; yet, even from
this most fatal error, it is evident that we
naturally pursue either real happiness, or
what, to our mistaken judgment, appears to
be such. Nor can the mind of man divest
itself of this propensity, without divesting
itself of its being. This is what the school-
men mean, when, in their manner of expres-
sion, they say, " That the will is carried
towards happiness, not simply as will, but
as nature." -|-
It is true, indeed, the generality of man-
kind are not well acquainted with the mo-
tions of their own minds, not at pains to
observe them, but, like brutes, by a kind of
secret impulse, are violently carried towards
such enjoyments as fall in their way : they
do but very little, or not at all, enter into
themselves, and review the state and opera-
tions of their own minds ; yet in all their
actions, all their wishes and desires, (though
they are not always aware of it themselves,)
this thirst after immortality exerts and dis-
covers itself. Consider the busy part of
mankind, hurrying to and fro in the exercise
of their several professions — physicians, law-
yers, merchants, mechanics, farmers, and
even soldiers themselves ; they all toil and
labour, in order to obtain rest, if success
attend their endeavours, and any fortunate
event answer their expectations. Encourag
ed by these fond hopes, they eat their bread
with the sweat of their brow : but their toil,
after all, is endless, constantly returning in
a circle ; and the days of men pass away in
suffering real evils, and entertaining fond
hopes of apparent good, which they seldom
or never attain : " Every man walks in a
vain show ; he torments himself in vain." $
He pursues rest and ease, like his shadow,
and never overtakes them ; but, for the most
part, ceases to live before he begins to pur-
pose. However, after all this confused and
fluctuating appetite, which determines us to
* Nubem pro Junone.
t In beatitudinem fertur voluntas, non ut voluntas,
led ut natura.
i Psalm xxxix. 6.
the pursuit of good, either real or apparent,
as it is congenial with us, and deeply rooted
in the human heart, so it is the great handle
by which divine grace lays hold, as it were,
upon our nature, draws us to itself, and
extricates us out of the profound abyss of
misery into which we are fallen.
From this it evidently follows, that the
design of sacred Theology is the very same
with that of human nature, and " he that
of rejects it hates his own soul ;" for so the
wise King of Israel emphatically expresses
it. He is the most irreconcileable enemy to
his own happiness, and absolutely at variance
with himself; according to that of St. Ber-
nard, " After I was set in opposition to
thee, I became also contrary to myself." *
These considerations have determined me
to begin these instructions, such as they are,
which, with Divine assistance, I intend to
give you concerning the principles of the
Christian religion, with a short disquisition
concerning the chief or ultimate end of man.
And here it is to be, first of all, observed,
that the transcendent and supreme end of
all is the glory of God ; all things return-
ing, in a most beautiful circle, to this, as
the original source from which they at first
took their rise ; but the end of true religion,
as far as it regards us, which is immediately
connected with the former, and serves in a
most glorious manner to promote it, is the
salvation and happiness of mankind.
Though I should not tell you what is to
be understood by the term happiness or fe-
licity in general, I cannot imagine any of you
would be at a loss about it ; yet I shall give
a brief explication of it, that you may have
the more distinct ideas of the thing itself,
and the juster notions of what is to be fur-
ther advanced on the subject. Nor is there,
indeed, any controversy on this head ; for
all are agreed, that by the terms commonly .
used in Hebrew, Greek, or Latin, •(• to ex-
press happiness or felicity, we are to under-
stand that perfect and complete good, which
is suited and adapted to intelligent nature :
I say, to intelligent nature, because the
brute creatures cannot be said to be happy,
but in a very improper sense. Happiness
cannot be ascribed to horses or oxen, let
them be ever so well fed, and left in the full
possession of liberty and ease. And as good
in general is peculiar to intelligent beings,
so, more especially, that perfect good which
constitutes felicity in its full and most ex-
tensive acceptation. It is true, indeed, in
common conversation, men are very prodigal
of this term, and, with extravagant levity,
misapply it to every common enjoyment of
life, or apparent good they meet with, espe-
cially such as is most suited to their present
* Postquam posuisti me contrarium tibi, factus sum
contrarius mihL
t Aslteri in Hebrew, fiaxafiar^t et ii^at/ucua in
Greek, frlicitas et beatitude in Latin.
OF HAPPINESS.
55?
exigencies; and thus, as Aristotle, in his
Ethics, expresses it, tf The sick person con-
siders health, and the poor man riches, as
the chief good." • It is also true, that learn-
ed men, and even the Sacred Scriptures, give
the name of felicity to some symptoms, and
small beginnings of future happiness ; but,
as we have already observed, -this term, in
its true and complete sense, comprehends in
it that absolute and full perfection of good,
which entirely excludes all uneasiness, and
orings with it every thing that can contribute
to satisfaction and delight. Consequently
that good, whatever it be, that most perfect-
ly supplies all the wants and satisfies the
cravings of our rational appetites, is objec-
tive felicity, as the schools express it ; and
actual, or formal felicity, is the full posses-
sion and enjoyment of that complete and
chief good. It consists in a perfect tranquil-
lity of the mind, and not a dull and stupid
indolence, like the calm that reigns in the
Dead Sea ; but such a peace of mind as is
lively, active, and constantly attended with
the purest joy : not a mere absence of un-
easiness and pain ; but such a perfect ease
as is constantly accompanied with the most
perfect satisfaction and supreme delight ; and
if the term had not been degraded by the
mean uses to which it has been prostituted,
I should not scruple to call it pleasure. -f-
And, indeed, we may still call it by this
name, provided we purify the term, and
guard it by the following limitations ; so as
to understand by felicity such a pleasure as
is perfect, constant, pure, spiritual, and di-
vine ; for never, since I ventured to think
upon such subjects, could I be satisfied with
the opinion of Aristotle and the schoolmen,
who distinguish between the fruition of the
chief good, which constitutes true felicity,
and the delight and satisfaction attending
that fruition ; because, at this rate, that good
would not be the ultimate end and comple-
tion of our desires, nor desired on its own
account ; for whatever good we wish to pos-
sess, the end of our wishing is, that we may
enjoy it with tranquillity and delight : and
this uninterrupted delight or satisfaction,
which admits of no alloy, is love in possession
of the beloved object, and at the height of
its ambition.
LECTURE III.
Of the HAPPINESS of MAN, and that it is
really to be found.
Yotr will not, I imagine, be offended, nor
think I intend to insult you, because I have
once and again, with great earnestness and
sincerity, wished you and myself a sound and
serious temper of mind ; for, if we may re-
* 'O toffx'&r,; fyMCBPi 0 T«ieti?r9f T?.«IT«.
t 'H tuZauuiutt r.tnr, ocuiTaCAtfro;.
present things as they really are, very few
men are possessed of so valuable a blessing.
The far greater part of them are intoxicated
either with the pleasures or cares of this
world ; they stagger about with a tottering
and unstable pace ; and, as Solomon express-
es it, " The labour of the foolish wearieth
every one of them ; because he knoweth not
how to go to the city ;"" — the heavenly city,
and the vision of peace, which very few have
a just notion of, or are at pains to seek after.
Nay, they know not what it is they are seek-
ing. They flutter from one object to an-
other, and live at hazard ; they have no cer-
tain harbour in view, nor direct their course
by any fixed star. But to him that knoweth
not the port to which he is bound, no wind
can be favourable ; neither can he who has
not yet determined at what mark he is to
shoot, direct his arrow aright. That this
may not be -our case, but that we may have
a proper object to aim at, I propose to speak
of the chief end of our being.
And to begin at the Father of spirits, or
pure intelligences. God, blessed for ever,
completely happy in himself from all eternity,
is his own happiness. His self-sufficiency, •{•
that eternal and infinite satisfaction and com-
placency he has in himself, is the peculiar
and most complete felicity of that Supreme
Being, who derives his existence from him-
self, and has given being to every thing else ;
which Chrysostom has well expressed by say-
ing, " That it is God's peculiar property to
stand in need of nothing."^: And Claudius
Victor beautifully describes him, " as vested
with all the majesty of creative power, com-
prehending in his infinite mind all the crea-
tures to be afterwards produced, having all
the revolutions of time constantly present to
his all-seeing eye, and being an immense and
most glorious kingdom to himself." ||
Yet, all we can say of this primary, un-
created JMajesty and Felicity, is but mere
talking to little or no sort of purpose ; for
here not only words fail us, but even thought
is at a stand, and quite overpowered, when
we survey the supreme, self-existent Being,§
perfectly happy and glorious in the sole en-
joyment of his own infinite perfections,
throughout numberless ages ; without angels,
men, or any other creature. So that the poet
had reason to say, " What eye is so strong,
that the matchless brightness of thy glory
will not dazzle it, and make it close ?"^f
* Kccles x. 15.
f Al/T«{*il«-
± &tav ux/.ia-ra lint T» utttt'.K-
i Rcgnabatquepotens in majestate creandi,
Kt facienda videns, gignendaque mente capad,
Secula despiciens, et quicquid tempora volvunt
Presens semper habens : immensum mole beau
Regnum erat ipse sibi.
§ AtStixT-rn ret «»T«-
•jf 'I "ii of au-aa. «••$«»
Tail fin fr'.{eirais
Arazmrro/MfS*
Of xxTKUvrti i Synos. Hyni. TeiL
658
J.et us, therefore, descend into ourselves,
but with a view to return to him again, and
not only so, but in such a manner, that the
end and design of our descending to inquire
into our own situation, be, that we may, with
greater advantage, return and re-ascend to
God. For, if we inquire into our own ul-
timate end, this disquisition must rise above
all other beings, and at last terminate in him ;
because he himself is that very end, and out
of him there is neither beginning nor end.
The felicity of angels, which is an interme-
diate degree of happiness, we shall not insist
on, not only because it is foreign to our pur-
pose, but also because our felicity and theirs
will be found, upon the matter, to be pre-
cisely the same.
With regard to our own happiness, we
shall first shew, that such a happiness really
exists ; and, next, inquire what it is, and
wherein it consists. We assert then, that
there is such a thing as human felicity : and
this ought rather to be taken for granted as
a matter unquestionable, than strictly prov-
ed. But when I speak of human felicity, I
am well satisfied you will not imagine I mean
such a happiness as may be had from human
things ; but that I take the term subjective-
ly, and understand by it the happiness ol
man. Now, he who would deny, that this
is not only among the number of possibles,
but actually attained by some part, at least,
of the human race, would not only render
himself unworthy of such happiness, but even
of human nature itself; because he would
thereby do all in his power to deprive it ol
its highest expectations, and its greatest
honour : but whoever allows that all things
were produced by the hand of an infinitely
wise Creator, cannot possibly doubt that man,
the head and ornament of all his visible
works, was made capable of a proper and
suitable end. The principal beauty of the
creation consists in this, that all things in it
are disposed in the most excellent order, and
every particular intended for some noble and
suitable end ; and if this could not be said
of man, who is the glory of the visible world,
what a great deformity must it be, how greal
a gap in nature !* And this gap must be
the greater, in that, as we have already ob-
served, man is naturally endued with strong
and vigorous desires towards such an end.
Yet, on this absurd supposition, *' all such
desires and expectations would be vain, anc
to no purpose ;"-|- and so something might
be said in defence of that peevish and im-
patient expression, which escaped the Psal-
mist in a fit of excessive sorrow, and he mighi
have an excuse for saying, " Why hast thou
made. all men in vain ?"$ This would noi
t IV.lm Ixxxix. 4/.
OF UAPPINEfeb. LECT. in.
>nly have been a frightful gap in nature, but'
f I am allowed so to speak, at this rate the
whole human race must have been created in
misery, and exposed to unavoidable torments,
'rom which they could never have been re-
ieved, had they been formed, not only capa-
>le of a good quite unattainable and altoge-
ther without their reach, but also with strong
and restless desires towards that impossible
good. Now, as this is by no means to be
admitted, there must necessarily be some
full, permanent, and satisfying good, that
may be attained by man, and in the posses-
sion of which he must be truly happy.
Whenwerevolve these things in our minds,
do we not feel from within a powerful im-
pulse exciting us to set aside all other cares,
that we may discover the one chief good, and
attain to the enjoyment of it ? While we in-
habit these bodies, I own we lie under a
necessity of using corporeal and fading'things;
but there is no necessity that we should be
slaves to our bellies and the lusts of the flesh,
or have our affections glued to this earth :
nay, that it should be so, is the highest and
most intolerable indignity. Can itbe thought,
that man was born merely to cram himself
with victuals and drink, or gratify the other
appetites of a body which he has in common
with the brutes ; — to snuff up the wind, to
entertain delusive and vain hopes all the days
of his life, and, when that short scene of mad-
ness is over, to be laid in the grave, and
reduced to his original dust ? Far be it
from us to draw such conclusions : there ii
certainly something beyond this, something
so great and lasting, that, in respect of
it, the short point of time we live here,
with all its bustle of business and plea-
sures, is more empty and vanishing than
smoke. " I am more considerable," says
one, " and born to greater matters, than to
become the slave of my diminutive body."*
With how much greater truth might we speak
thus, were we regenerated from heaven ! Let
us be ashamed to live with our heads bowed
down, like grovelling beasts gazing upon the
earth, or even to catch at the vain and airy
shadows of science ; while, in the mean time,
we know not, or do not consider, whence we
took our rise, and whither we soon are to re-
turn, what place is to receive our souls, when
they are set at liberty from these bodily pri
sons. If it is the principal desire of your
souls to understand the nature of this feli-
city, and the way that leads to it, search the
Scriptures ; for, from them alone we all think,
or profess to think, we can have eternal life.
'I exhort and beseech you, never to suffer so
much as one day to pass, either through lazy
negligence, or too much eagerness in inferior
studies, without reading some part of the
* Major sum, et ad majora genitus, quam ut sm
m: cipium mei corjiusculi.
OF HAPPINESS.
£59
Sacred Records, with a pious and attentive
disposition of mind ; still joining with your
reading fervent prayer, that you may thereby
draw down that divine light, without which
spiritual things cannot be read and under-
stood. But with this light shining upon
them, it is not possible to express how much
sweeter you will find these inspired writings,
than Cicero, Demosthenes, Homer, Aristo-
tle, and all the other orators, poets, and phi-
losophers. They reason about an imaginary
felicity, and every one in his own way ad-
vances some precarious and uncertain thoughts
upon it ; but this book alone shews clearly,
and with absolute certainty, what it is, and
points out the way that leads to the attain-
ment of it- This is that which prevailed with
St. Augustine to study the Scriptures, and
engaged his affection to them. " In Cicero,
and Plato, and other such writers," says he,
" I meet with many things wittily said, and
things that have a moderate tendency to
move the passions ; but in none of them do
I find these words, Come unto me, all ye
that labour and are heavy laden, and 1 will
give you rest."*
LECTURE IV.
In which it is proved, that Human Feli-
city cannot be found either in the Earth,
or earthly Things.
WE are all in quest of one thing, but al-
most all of us out of the right road ; there-
fore, to be sure, the longer and the more
swiftly we move in a wrong path, the farther
we depart from the object of our desires : and
if it is so, we can speak or think of nothing
more proper and seasonable, than of inquir-
ing about the only right way, whereby we
may all come to see the bright fountain of
yoodness.-\- I know you will remember, that,
on the last occasion, we proposed the most
important of all questions, viz. that concern-
ing our ultimate end, or the way to discover
true happiness ; to which, we asserted, that
all mankind do aspire with a natural, and
therefore a constant and uniform ardour ; £
or rather, we supposed, that all are suffi.
ciently acquainted with this happiness, nay,
really do, or at least may, feel it within
them, if they thoroughly know themselves.
For this is the end of the labours of men,
to this tend all their toils ; this is the gene-
* Apud Ciceronem et Platonera, aliosque ejusmodi
icriptores, multa sunt acutfe dicta, et leniter calentia,
sed in iis omnibus hoc non invenio, Venitead me, &c.
M ATT. xii. 28.
t Boni fontem visere lucidum.
i AiiaTfUTta •£,">)•
ral aim of all, not only the sharp-sighted,
but the blear-eyed and short-sighted,* nay,
even of those that are quite blind ; who,
though they cannot see the mark they pro-
pose to themselves, yet are in hopes of reach-
ing it at last : that is to say, though their ideas
of it are very confused and imperfect, they
all desire happiness in the obvious sense of
the word. We have also observed, that this
term, in its general acceptation, imports that
full and perfect good which is suited to in-
telligent nature. -f- It is not to be doubted,
but the felicity of the Deity, as well as his
being, is in himself, and from himself ; bu t
our inquiry is concerning our own happiness.
We also positively determined, that there is
some blessed end suited and adapted to our
nature, and that this can by no means be
denied. For since all parts of the universe
have proper ends suited and adapted to their
natures, that the most noble and excellent
creature of the whole sublunary world,
should, in this, be defective, and therefore
created in vain, would be so great a solecism,
such a deformity in the whole fabric, and so
unworthy of the supreme and all-wise Crea-
tor, that it can by no means be admitted,
nor even so much as imagined. This point
being settled, namely, that there is some de-
terminate good, in the possession whereof
the mind of man may be fully satisfied, and
at perfect rest, we now proceed to inquire
what this good is, and where it may be found.
The first thing, and at the same time a
very considerable step towards this discovery,
will be, to shew where and in what things
this perfect good is not to be found ; not only
because, this point being settled, it will be
easier to determine wherein it actually con-
sists, (nay, the latter will naturally flow from
the former,) but also because, as has been
observed, we shall find the far greater part of
mankind pursuing vain shadows and phan-
toms of happiness, and throughout their whole
lives wandering in a great variety of by-paths,
seeking the way to make a proper improve-
ment of life, almost always hunting for that
chief good where it is not to be found. They
must first be recalled from this rambling and
fruitless course, before they can possibly be
directed into the right road. I shall not
spin out this negative proposition, by divid-
ing the subject of it into several branches,
and insisting separately upon every one of
them ; but consider all these errors and
mistakes, both vulgar and practical, specu-
lative and philosophical, however numerous
they may be, as comprehended under one
general head, and fully obviate them all by
one single proposition, which, with Divine
assistance, I shall explain to you in this Lec-
ture, and that very briefly.
The proposition is, That human felicity,
• MvtirrxfttTti-
t IIj*Ta» Tf, ix.*Ttt ft, xxi IMyif
5GO
OF HAPPINESS.
or that full and complete good which is
suited to the nature of man, is not to be
found in the earth, nor in earthly things.
Now, what if, instead of further proof or
illustration, I should only say, if this per-
fect felicity is to be found within this visible
world, or the verge of this earthly life, let
him, I pray, who hath found it out, stand
forth : let him tell who can — what star, of
whatever magnitude, what constellation or
combination of stars, has so favourable an
aspect and so benign an influence, or what
is that singular good, or assemblage of good
things in this earth, that can confer upon
mankind a happy life ? All things that,
like bright stars, have hitherto attracted the
eyes of men, vanishing in a few days, have
proved themselves to be comets, not only of
no benign, but even of pernicious influence :
according to the saying, " There is no
comet but what brings some mischief along
with it."* All that have ever lived during
so many ages that the werld has hitherto
lasted, noble and ignoble, learned and un-
learned, fools and wise men, have gone in
search of happiness. Has ever any of them
all, in times past, or is there any at this
day, that has said, " I have found it ?"-f-
Different men have given different defini-
tions and descriptions of it, and, according
to their various turns of mind, have painted
it in a great variety of shapes ; but since
the creation of the world, there has not been
so much as one that ever pretended to say,
Here it is, I have it, and have attained the
full possession of it. Even those from whom
most was to be expected, men of the utmost
penetration, and most properly qualified for
such researches, after all their labour and
industry, have acknowledged their disap-
pointment, and that they had not found it.
But it would be wonderful indeed that there
should be any good suited to human nature,^
and to which mankind were born, and yet
that it never fell to the share of any one in-
dividual of the sons of men ; unless it be
said, that the things of life, in this respect,
resemble the speculations of the schools ;
and that, as they talk about objects of know-
ledge that were never known, so there was
some good attainable by men, which was
never actually attained.
But to look a little more narrowly into
this matter, and take a transient view of the
several periods of life. Infants are so far
from attaining to happiness, that they have
not yet arrived at human life ; yet, if they
are compared with those of riper years, they
are, in a low and improper sense, with regard
to two things, innocence and ignorance, hap-
pier than men : for there is nothing that
years add to infancy so invariably, and in. so
great abundance, as guilt and pollution ; and
* Ot/du; y
I Eu(r,x»-
ft(ll.
the experience and knowledge of the world
which they give us, do not so much improve
the head, as they vex and distress the heart.
So that the great man represented in the
tragedy embracing his infant, who knew no-
thing of his own misery, seems to have had
some reason to say, " that those who know
nothing, enjoy the happiest life."* And,
to be sure, what we gain by our progress
from infancy to youth, is, that we thereby
become more exposed to the miseries of life,
and, as we improve in the knowledge of
things, our pains and torments are also in-
creased ; for either children are put to ser-
vile employments, or mechanic arts ; or, if
they happen to have a more genteel and li-
beral education, this very thing turns to a
punishment, as they are thereby subjected to
rods, chastisements, and the power of pa-
rents and instructors, which is often a kind
of petty tyranny ; and when the yoke is light-
ened with the greatest prudence, it still seems
hard to be borne, as it is above the capacity
of their young minds, thwarts their wishes
and inclinations, and encroaches upon their
beloved liberty.
Youth, put in full possession of this liberty,
for the most part ceases to be master of it-
self; nor can it be so truly said to be de-
livered from its former misery, as to exchange
it for a worse, even that very liberty. Jt
leaves the harbour, to sail through quick,
sands and Syrens ; and, when both these are
passed, launches out into the deep sea,
Alas ! to what various fates is it there ex.
posed ! How many contrary winds does it
meet with ! How many storms threatening
it with shipwreck ! How many shocks has
it to bear from avarice, ambition, and envy,
either in consequence of the violent stirrings
of those passions within itself, or the fierce
attacks of them from without ! And amidst
all these tempests, the ship is either early
overwhelmed, or broken by storms ; and
worn out by old age, at last falls to pieces.
Nor does it much signify what state of
life one enters into, or what rank he holds in
human society ; for all forms of business and
conditions of life, however various you may
suppose them to be, are exposed to a much
greater variety of troubles and distresses,
some to pressures more numerous and more
grievous than others, but all to a great many,
and every one to some peculiar to itself. If
you devote yourselves to ease and retirement,
you cannot avoid the reproach and uneasiness
that constantly attend an indolent, an use-
less and lazy life. If you engage in business,
whatever it be, whether you commence mer-
chant, soldier, farmer, or lawyer, you always
meet with toil and hazard, and often with
heavy misfortunes and losses. Celibacy
exposes to solitude ; marriage, to solicitude
and cares. Without learning, you appear
* T« yi&fAxi fj.r,tn ir
OF HAPPINESS.
561
plain and unpolished ; but, on the other
hand, the study of letters is a matter of im-
mense labour, and, for the most part, brings
in but very little, either with regard to the
knowledge you acquire by it, or the conveni-
encies of life it procures. But I will enlarge
no farther ; you find the Greek and Latin
poets lamenting the calamities of life, in
many parts of their works, and at length :
nor do they exaggerate in the least ; they
even fall short of the truth, and only enu-
merate a few evils out of many.
The Greek epigram ascribed by some to
Posidipus, by others to Crates the Cynic
philosopher, begins thus : " What state of
life ought one to choose ?"* and having
enumerated them all, concludes in this man-
ner : " There are then only two things eligi-
ble, either never to have been born, or to die
as soon as one makes his appearance in the
world, "-f
But now, leaving the various periods and
conditions of life, let us, with great brevity,
run over those things which are looked upon
to be the greatest blessings in it, and see
whether any of them can make it completely
happy. Can this be expected from a beauti-
ful outside ? No^ this has rendered many
miserable, but never made one happy ; for
suppose it to be sometimes attended with
innocence, it is surely of a fading and perish-
ing nature, " the sport of time or disease.''^
Can it be expected from riches ? Surely no ;
for how little of them does the owner possess,
even supposing his wealth to be ever so
great ! What a small part of them does he
use or enjoy himself! And what has he of
the rest but the pleasure of seeing them with
his eyes ? Let his table be loaded with the
greatest variety of delicious dishes, he fills
his belly out of one ; and if he has a hun-
dred beds, he lies but in one of them. Can
the kingdoms, thrones, and sceptres of this
world confer happiness ? No ; we learn
from the histories of all ages, that not a few
have been tumbled down from these by
sudden and unexpected revolutions, and
those not such as were void of conduct or
courage, but men of great and extraordinary
abilities. And, that those who met with no
such misfortunes, were still far enough from
happiness, is very plain from the situation of
their affairs, and in many cases from their
own confession. The saying of Augustine
is well known : " I wish I had never been
married, and had died childless :"§ and the
expression of Severus at his death : " I be-
came all things, and yet it does not profit
me." || But the most noted saying of all,
and that which best deserves to be known,
* Heir,* iu PIOTCIO
t Err et(u roit 2i
T«T' r &*v'.iy xurmx Ti»T«,tt«
II llxt7X l}t>l>W XXI <lU A
cci*ifis r, re y\\'.a
is that of the wisest and most nourishing king,
as well as the greatest preacher, who, having
exactly computed all the advantages of his
exalted dignity and royal opulence, found
this to be the sum total of all, and left it on
record for the inspection of posterity and
future ages — " Vanity of vanities, all is
vanity."
All this may possibly be true with regard
to the external advantages of men ; but may
not happiness be found in the internal goods
of the mind, such as wisdom and virtue ?
Suppose this granted ; still, that they may
confer perfect felicity, they must, of neces-
sity, be perfect themselves. Now, shew me
the man, who, even in his own judgment,
has attained to perfection in wisdom and
virtue. Even those who are accounted the
wisest, and actually were so, acknowledged
they knew nothing ; nor was there one
amongst the most approved philosophers,
whose virtues were not alloyed with many
blemishes. The same must be said of piety
and true religion, which, though it is the
beginning of felicity, and tends directly to
perfection ; yet, as in this earth it is not full
and complete in itself, it cannot make its
possessors perfectly happy. The knowledge
of the most exalted minds is very obscure,
and almost quite dark, and their practice of
virtue lame and imperfect. And indeed,
who can have the boldness to boast of per-
fection in this respect, when he hears the
great Apostle complaining of the law of the
flesh, and pathetically exclaiming, " Who
shall deliver me from this body of death,
&c. ?"* Besides, though wisdom, and vir-
tue, or piety, were perfect, so long as we
have bodies, we must, at the same time,
have all bodily advantages, in order to per-
feet felicity. Therefore the Satirist smartly
ridicules the wise man of the Stoics. " He
is," says he, " free, honoured, beautiful, a
king of kings, and particularly happy, ex-
cept when he is troubled with phlegm."-f-
Since these things are so, we must raise
our minds higher, and not live with our
heads bowed down like the common sort of
mankind ; who, as St. Augustine expresses
it, " look for a happy life in the region of
death." J To set our hearts upon the pe-
rishing goods of this life, and its muddy
pleasures, is not the happiness of men, but
of hogs ; and if pleasure is dirt, other things
are but smoke. Were this the only good
proposed to the desires and hopes of men, it
would not have been so great a privilege to
be born. Be therefore advised, young
gentlemen, and beware of this poisonous
cup, lest your minds thereby become brutish,
and fall into a fatal oblivion of your original,
• Rom. vii. 24.
4. , Dives,
Liber, honoratus, pulcher, rex denique rrguni,
Pnccipup felix, nisi cum pituita molcstn rst.
1 Beatam vitam <iuarunt in regione niorti*.
2 N
562
OF THE IMMORTALITY
and your end. 1 urn that part of your com-
position which is divine, to God, its creator
and father, without whom we can neither be
happy, nor indeed be at all.
LECTURE V.
Of the Immortality of the Soul.
THERE are many things that keep man-
kind employed, particularly business, or ra-
ther trifles ; for so the affairs which are in
this world considered as most important,
ought to be called, when compared with that
of minding our own valuable concerns, know-
ing ourselves, and truly consulting our high-
est interests. But how few are there that
make this their study ! The definition you
commonly give of man is, that he is a rationa'
creature ; though, to be sure, it is not appli-
cable to the generality of mankind, unless
you understand, that they are such, not ac-
tually, but in power only, and that very re-
mote. They are, for the most part at least
more silly and foolish than children, and
like them, fond of toys and rattles : they
fatigue themselves running about and saun
tering from place to place, but do nothing
to purpose.
What a wonder it is, that souls of •<
heavenly origin have so far forgot their na
tive country, and are so immersed in dir
and mud, that there are few men who fre
quently converse with themselves about thei
own state, thinking gravely of their origina
and their end, seriously laying to heart, that
as the poet expresses it, " Good and evil are
set before mankind ;"* and who, after ma
ture consideration, not only think it the mos
wise and icasonable course, but are also full)
resolved to exert themselves to the utmost
in order to arrive at a sovereign contempt o
earthly things, and aspire to those enjoy
ments that are divine and eternal ! For ou
parts, I am fully persuaded we shall be o
this mind, if we seriously reflect on what ha
been said. For if there is, of necessity, a
complete, permanent, and satisfying goo<
intended for man, and no such good is to b
found in the earth, or earthly things, w
must proceed farther, and look for it some
where else ; and, in consequence of this
conclude, that man is not quite extinguish^
by death, but removes to another place, an
that the human soul is by all means immortal
Many men have added a great variety o
different arguments to support this conclu
sion, some of them strong and solid, an
others, to speak freely, too metaphysical
'fi
Tf -mvXTX.1.
nd of little strength, especially as they are
s obscure, as easily denied, and as hard to
ie proved, as that very conclusion in support
f which they are adduced.
They who reason from the Immaterial na-
ure of the soul, and from its being infused
nto the body, as also from its method of
iperation, which is confined to none of the
•odily organs, may easily prevail with those
who believe these principles, to admit the
ruth of the conclusion they want to draw
rom them ; but if they meet with any who
obstinately deny the premises, or even doubt
.he truth of them, it will be a matter of diffi-
culty to support such hypotheses with clear
and conclusive arguments. If the soul of
man was well acquainted with itself, and
'ully understood its own nature ; if it could
investigate the nature of its union with the
body, and the method of its operation there-
in, we doubt not but from thence it might
draw these and other such arguments of its
immortality ; but since, shut up in the prison
of a dark body, it is so little known, and so
incomprehensible to itself ; and since, in so
great obscurity, it can scarce, if at all, dis-
cover the least of its own features and com-
plexion, it would be a very difficult matter
for it to say much concerning its internal
nature, or nicely determine the methods of
its operation. But it would be surprising
if any one should deny, that the very opera-
tions it performs, especially those of the more
noble and exalted sort, are strong marks and
conspicuous characters of its excellence and
immortality.
Nothing is more evident than that, be.
sides life and sense and animal spirits, which
he has in common with the brutes, there is
in man something more exalted, more pure,
and what more nearly approaches to divinity.
God has given to the former a sensitive soul,
but to us a mind also ; and, to speak dis-
tinctly, that spirit which is peculiar to man,
and whereby he is raised above all other
animals, ought to be called mind rather than
soul.* Be this as it may, it is hardly pos-
sible to say, how vastly the human mind
excels the other with regard to its wonderful
powers, and, next to them, with respect to
its works, devices, and inventions. For it
performs such great and wonderful things,
that the brutes, even those of the greatest
sagacity, can neither imitate, nor at all
understand, much less invent : nay man,
though he is much less in bulk, and infe-
rior in strength to the greatest part of them,
yet, as lord and king of them all, he can,
by surprising means, bend and apply the
strength and industry of all the other crea-
tures, the virtues of all herbs and plants,
and, in a word, all the parts and powers of
this visible world, to the convenience and ac-
commodation of his own life. He also builds
* Animus potius dicendus est quam anima.
OF THE SOUL.
563
cities, erects commonwealths, makes laws,
conducts armies, fits out fleets, measures not
only the earth, but the heavens also, and
investigates the motions of the stars. He
foretells eclipses many years before they
happen ; and, with very little difficulty,
sends his thoughts to a great distance, bids
them visit the remotest cities and countries,
mount above the sun and the stars, and even
the heavens themselves.
But all these things are inconsiderable, and
contribute but little to our present purpose,
in respect of that one incomparable dignity
that results to the human mind from its
being capable of religion, and having inde-
lible characters thereof naturally stamped
upon it. It acknowledges a God, and wor-
ships him ; it builds temples to his honour;
it celebrates his never-enough exalted Ma-
jesty with sacrifices, prayers, and praises,
depends upon his bounty, implores his aid,
and so carries on a constant correspondence
with heaven ; and, which is a very strong
proof of its being originally from heaven, it
hopes at last to return to it. And, truly, in
my judgment, this previous impression and
hope of immortality, and these earnest de-
sires after it, are a very strong evidence of
that immortality. These impressions, though
in most men they lie overpowered, and al-
most quite extinguished by the weight of
their bodies, and an extravagant love to pre-
sent enjoyments ; yet, now and then, in
time of adversity, break forth and exert
themselves, especially under the pressure of
severe distempers, and at the approaches of
death. But those whose minds are puri-
fied, and their thoughts habituated to divine
things, with what constant and ardent wishes
do they breathe after that blessed immorta-
lity ! How often do their souls complain
within them, that they have dwelt so long
in these earthly tabernacles ! Like exiles,
they earnestly wish, make interest, and
struggle hard, to regain their native country.
Moreover, does not that noble neglect of
the body and its senses, and that contempt
of all the pleasures of the flesh, which these
heavenly souls have attained, evidently shew,
that, in a short time, they will be taken from
hence, and that the body and soul are of a
very different, and almost contrary nature to
one another? And therefore the duration
of the one depends not upon the other, but
is quite of another kind ; and the soul, set
at liberty from the body, is not only exempt-
ed from death, but, in some sense, then be-
gins to live, and then first sees the light.
Had we not this hope to support us, what
ground should we have to lament our first
nativity, which placed us in a life so short,
so destitute of good, and so crowded with mi-
series ; a life which we pass entirely in grasp-
ing phantoms of felicity, and suffering real
calamities ! So that, if there were not, be-
yond this, a life and happiness that more
truly deserved these names, who can help
seeing, that of all creatures, man would be
the most miserable, and, of all men, the
best the most unhappy ?
For although every wise man looks upon
the belief of the immortality of the soul as
one of the great and principal supports of
religion, there may possibly be some rare,
exalted, and truly divine minds, who would
choose the pure and noble path of virtue for
its own sake, would constantly walk in it,
and, out of love to it, would not decline the
severest hardships, if they should happen to
be exposed to them on its account ; yet it
cannot be denied, that the common sort of
Christians, though they are really and at
heart sound believers and true Christians,
fall very short of this attainment, and would
scarcely, if at all, embrace virtue and reli-
gion, if you take away the rewards ; which,
I think, the apostle Paul hints at in this
expression, " If in this life only we have
hope, we are of all men the most miserable."*
The apostle, indeed, does not intend these
words as a direct proof of the immortality of
the soul in a separate state, but as an argu-
ment to prove the resurrection of the body ;
which is a doctrine near akin, and closely
connected with the former. For that great
restoration is added as an instance of the
superabundance and immensity of the Divine
goodness, whose pleasure it is, that not only
the better and more divine part of man,
which, upon its return to its original source,
is, without the body, capable of enjoying a
perfectly happy and eternal life, should have
a glorious immortality, but also, that this
earthly tabernacle, as being the faithful at-
tendant and constant companion of the soul,
through all its toils and labours in this
world, be also admitted to a share and par-
ticipation of its heavenly and eternal felicity ;
that so, according to our Lord's expression,
every faithful soul may have returned into
its bosom, " good measure, pressed down,
shaken together, and running over."-f
Let our belief of this immortality be
founded entirely on divine revelation, and
then, like a city fortified with a rampart of
earth drawn round it, let it be outwardly
guarded and defended by reason ; which, in
this case, suggests arguments as strong and
convincing as the subject will admit of. If
any one, in the present case, promises de-
monstration, " his undertaking is certainly
too much ;" J if he desires or expects it from
another, " he requires too much."§ Ther«
are indeed very few demonstrations in phi-
losophy, if you except the mathematical
sciences, that can be truly and strictly so
called ; and, if we inquire narrowly into the
matter, perhaps we shall find none at all
* 1 Cor. xv. 19. t LuXe vi. .IS.
5(J4
OF THE IMMORTALITY
nay, if even the mathematical demonstrations
are examined by the strict rules and ideas of
Aristotle, the greatest part of them will be
found imperfect and defective. The saying
of that philosopher is, therefore, wise and
applicable to many cases : " Demonstrations
are not to be expected in all cases, but so far
as the subject will admit of them."* But,
if we were well acquainted with the nature
and essence of the soul, or even its precise
method of operation on the body, it is highly
probable we could draw from hence evident
and undeniable demonstrations of that im-
mortality which we are now asserting :
whereas, so long as the mind of man is so
little acquainted with its own nature, we must
not expect any such.
But that unquenchable thirst of the soul,
we have already mentioned, is a strong proof
of its divine nature ; a thirst not to be allay-
ed with the impure and turbid waters of any
earthly good, or of all worldly enjoyments
taken together. It thirsts after the never-
failing fountain of good, according to that of
the Psalmist, " As the hart panteth after
the water-brooks :"-f- it thirsts after a good,
invisible, immaterial, and immortal, to the
enjoyment whereof the ministry of a body is
so far from being absolutely necessary, that
it feels itself shut up, and confined by that
to which it is now united, as by a partition-
wall, and groans under the pressure of it.
And those souls, that are quite insensible of
this thirst, are certainly buried in the body,
as in the carcase of an impure hog ; nor have
they so entirely divested themselves of this
appetite we have mentioned, nor can they
possibly divest themselves of it, so as not to
feel it severely, to their great misery, sooner
or later, either when they awake out of their
lethargy within the body, or when they are
obliged to leave it. To conclude : nobody,
I believe, will deny, that we are to form our
judgment of the true nature of the human
mind, not from the sloth and stupidity of the
most degenerate and vilest of men, but from
the sentiments and fervent desires of the best
and wisest of the species.
These sentiments, concerning the immor-
tality of the soul in its future existence, not
only include no impossibility or absurdity in
them, but are also every way agreeable to
sound reason, wisdom, and virtue, to the
Divine economy, and the natural wishes and
desires of men ; wherefore most nations have,
with the greatest reason, universally adopted
them, and the wisest in all countries, and in
all ages, have cheerfully embraced them.
And though they could not confirm them
with any argument of irresistible force, yet
they felt something within them that corres-
4;>£Tcei TO V-rtXlllMtH.
t Psalm xlii. 1.
ponded with this doctrine, and always looked
upon it as most beautiful and worthy of cre-
dit. " Nobody," says Atticus in Cicero,
" shall drive me from the immortality of the
soul."* And Seneca's words are, " I took
pleasure to inquire into the eternity of the
soul, and even, indeed, to believe it. I re-
signed myself to so glorious a hope, for now
I begin to despise the remains of a broken
constitution, as being to remove into that
immensity of time, and into the possession
of endless ages."-|- O, how much does the
soul gain by this removal !
As for you, young gentlemen, I doubt not
but you will embrace this doctrine, not only
as agreeable to reason, but as it is an article
of the Christian faith. I only put you in
mind to revolve it often within yourselves,
and with a serious disposition of mind ; for
you will find it the strongest incitement to
wisdom, good morals, and true piety ; nor
can you imagine any thing that will more ef-
fectually divert you from a foolish admira-
tion of present and perishing things, and
from the allurements and sordid pleasures of
this earthly body. Consider, I pray you,
how unbecoming it is to make a heaven-born
soul, that is to live for ever, a slave to the
meanest, vilest, and most trifling things ;
and, as it were, to thrust down to the kit-
chen a prince that is obliged to leave his
country only for a short time. St. Bernard
pathetically addresses himself to the body in
favour of the soul, persuading it to treat the
latter honourably, not only on account of its
dignity, but also for the advantage that there-
by will redound to the body itself. " Thou
hast a noble guest, O flesh ! a most noble
one indeed, and all thy safety depends upon
its salvation : it will certainly remember thee
for good, if thou serve it well ; and when it
comes to its Lord, it will put him in mind
of thee, and the mighty God himself will
come to make thee, who art now a vile body,
like unto his glorious one ; and O wretched
flesh, He who came in humility and obscu-
rity to redeem souls, will come in great ma-
jesty to glorify thee, and every eye shall see
him.";}: Be mindful, therefore, young gen-
tlemen, of your better part, and accustom it
to think of its own eternity ; always and
every where having its eyes fixed upon that
world to which it is most nearly related.
And thus it will look down, as from on
* Me nemo de immortalitate depellet.
t Juvabat de seternitate animarum qusercre, imo
mehercule credere : dabam me spei tantae, jam enim
reliquias infracts astatis contemnebam, in immensum
illud ternous, et in possessionem omnis sevi transiturus
SEN. Epfs. 102.
$ Nobilem hospitem habcs, O caro ! nobilcm valde,
et tola tua salus de ejus salute pendet : omnino etiam
memor erit tui in bonum, si bene servieris illi ; et cum
peryencrit ad Dpminum suum, suggeret ei de te, et
veniet ipse Dominus virtutuin, et te vile corpus con-
figurabit corpori suo glorioso, qui ad animas redimen-
das humilis ante venerat, ct occultus, pro te glorifi-
cando, O misera caro, sublimis %-eniet et manifestus
OF THE SOUL.
high, on all those things which the world
considers as lofty and exalted, and will see
them under his feet ; and of all the things
which are confined within the narrow verge
of this present life, it will have nothing to
desire, and nothing to fear.
LECTURE VI.
Of the HAPPINESS of the LIFE to come.
OF all the thoughts of men, there is cer-
tainly none that more often occur to a serious
mind, that has its own interest at heart, than
that to which all others are subordinate and
subservient, with regard to the intention, the
ultimate and most desirable end of all our
toils and cares, and even of life itself. And
this important thought will the more closely
beset the mind, the more sharp-sighted it is
in prying into the real torments, the delusive
hopes, and the false joys of this our wretch-
ed state ; which is indeed so miserable, that
it can never be sufficiently lamented : and
as for laughter amidst so many sorrows, dan-
gers and fears, it must be considered as down-
right madness. Such was the opinion of
<he wisest of kings : " I have said of laugh-
ter," says he, " it is mad ; and of mirth,
what doth it ?"• We have, therefore, no
cause to be much surprised at the bitter com-
plaints which a grievous weight of afflictions
has extorted, even from great and good men;
nay, it is rather a wonder if the same causes
do not often oblige us to repeat them..
If we look about us, how often are we
shocked to observe either the calamities of
our country or the sad disasters of our rela-
tions and friends, whom we have daily oc-
casion to mourn, either as groaning under the
I pressures of poverty, pining away under lan-
• guishing diseases, tormented by acute ones,
or carried off by death, while we ourselves
are, in like manner, very soon to draw tears
from the eyes of others ! Nay, how often
are we a burden to ourselves, and groan hea-
vily under afflictions of our own, that press
hard upon our estates, our bodies, or our
minds ! Even those who seem to meet with
the fewest and the least inconveniences in this
life, and dazzle the eyes of spectators with
the brightness of a seemingly constant and
uniform felicity ; besides that they often suf-
fer from secret vexations and cares, which
destroy their inward peace, and prey upon
their distressed hearts ; how uncertain, weak,
and brittle, is that false happiness which ap-
pears about them, and, when it shines bright-
est, how easily is it broken to pieces ! So
that it has been justly said, " They want
• Eccles. U. 2.
another felicity, to secure that which they are
already possessed of."« If, after all, there
are some whose minds are hardened against
all the forms and appearances of external
things, and that look down with equal con.
tempt upon all the events of this world, whe-
ther of a dreadful or engaging aspect, even
this disposition of mind does not make them
happy : nor do they think themselves so ;
they have still something to make them un-
easy— the obscure darkness that overspreads
their minds, their ignorance of heavenly
things, and the strength of their carnal af-
fections, not yet entirely subdued. And
though these we are now speaking of are by
far the noblest and most beautiful part of
the human race, yet, if they had not within
them that blessed hope of removing hence,
in a little time, to the regions of light, the
more severely they feel the straits and af-
flictions to which their souls are exposed by
being shut up in this narrow, earthly cottage,
so much they certainly would be more mise-
rable than the rest of mankind.
As oft, therefore, as we reflect upon these
things, we shall find that the whole comes to
this one conclusion : " There is certainly
some end."-|- There is, to be sure, some
end suited to the nature of man, and worthy
of it ; some particular, complete, and per-
manent good : and since we in vain look
for it within the narrow verge of this life,
and among the many miseries that swarm
on it from beginning to end, we must of ne-
cessity conclude, that there is certainly some
more fruitful country, and a more lasting life,
to which our felicity is reserved, and into
which we shall be received when we remove
hence. This is not our rest, nor have we any
place of residence here ; it is the region of
fleas and gnats ; and while we search for
happiness among these mean and perishing
things, we are not only sure to be disappoint,
ed, but also not to escape those miseries
which, in great numbers, continually beset
us, so that we may apply to ourselves the
saying of the famous artist, confined in the
island of Crete, and truly say, " The earth
and the sea are shut up against us, and nei-
ther of them can favour our escape ; the way
to heaven is alone open, and this way we will
strive to go."$
Thus far we have advanced by degrees,
and very lately we have discoursed upon the
immortality of the soul, to which we have
added the resurrection of our earthly body,
by way of appendix. It remains that we now
inquire into the happiness of the life to come.
Yet, I own, I am almost deterred from
entering upon this inquiry by the vast ob-
scurity and sublimity of the subject, which
• Alia felicitate ad illam felicitauni tuendam opus
est.
t Efrir it'iz TJ «X»f.
j Nee teflus nostrae, nee patet unda fug*,
Restat Her orli, ccelo tenubiirihs ire.
OF TI1L HAPPINESS
in its nature is such, that we can neither
understand it, nor, if we could, can it be ex-
pressed in words. The divine apostle, who
had had some glimpse of this felicity, de-
scribes it no otherwise than by his silence,
calling the words he heard, " unspeakable,
and such as it was not lawful for a man to
utter."* And if he neither could nor would
express what he saw, far be it from us bold-
ly to force ourselves into, or intrude upon,
what we have not seen ; especially as the
same apostle, in another place, acquaints us,
for our future caution, that this was unwar-
rantably done by some rash and forward
persons in his own time. But since in the
sacred archives of this new world, however
invisible and unknown to us, we have some
maps and descriptions of it suited to our ca-
pacity ; we are not only allowed to look at
them, but, as they were drawn for that very
purpose, it would certainly be the greatest
ingratitude, as well as the highest negligence
in us, not to make some improvement of
them. Here, however, we must remember
what a great odds there is between the de-
scription of a kingdom in a small and imper-
fect map, and the extent and beauty of that
very kingdom, when viewed by the traveller's
eye ; and how much greater the difference
must be between the felicity of that heavenly
kingdom to which we are aspiring, and all,
even the most striking figurative expressions,
taken from the things of this earth, that are
used to convey some faint and imperfect no-
tion of it to our minds. What are these
things, the false glare and shadows whereof
in this earth, are pursued with such keen
and furious impetuosity — riches, honours,
pleasures ? All these in their justest, purest,
and sublimest sense, are comprehended in
this blessed life : it is a treasure that can
neither fail nor be carried away by force or
fraud : it is an inheritance uncorrupted and
undefiled, a crown that fadeth not away, a
never-failing stream of joy and delight : it
is a marriage-feast, and of all others the most
joyous and most sumptuous ; one that always
satisfies, and never cloys the appetite ; it is
an eternal spring, and an everlasting light,
a day without an evening : it is a paradise,
where the lilies are always white and full
blown, the saffron blooming, the trees sweat
out their balsams, and the tree of life in the
midst thereof : it is a city where the houses
are built of living pearls, the gates of pre-
cious stones, and the streets paved with the
purest gold ; yet all these are nothing but
the veils of the happiness to be revealed
on that most blessed day ; nay, the light
itself, which we have mentioned among the
rest, though it be the most beautiful orna-
ment of this visible world, is at best but a
shadow of that heavenly glory ; and how
after, xtt/4.
small soever that portion of this inaccessible
brightness may be, which, in the sacred
Scriptures, shines upon us through these
veils, it certainly very well deserves that we
should often turn our eyes towards it, and
view it with the closest attention.
Now, the first thing that necessarily oc-
curs in the constitution of happiness, is a
full and complete deliverance from every evil
and every grievance ; which we may as cer-
tainly expect to meet with iu that heavenly
life, as it is impossible to be attained while
we sojourn here below. All tears shall be
wiped away from our eyes, and every cau.se
and occasion of tears for ever removed from
our sight. There, there are no tumults, no
wars, no poverty, no death nor disease ;
there, there is neither mourning nor fear,
nor sin, which is the source and fountain of
all other evils. There is neither violence
within doors nor without, nor any complaint
in the streets of that blessed city ; there, no
friend goes out, nor enemy comes in. 2.
Full vigour of body and mind, health, beau-
ty, purity, and perfect tranquillity. 3. The
most delightful society of angels, prophets,
apostles, martyrs, and all the saints ; among
whom there are no reproaches, contentions,
controversies, nor party-spirit, because there
are, there, none of the sources whence they
can spring, nor any thing to encourage their
growth ; for there is, there, particularly, no
ignorance, no blind self-love, no vain-glory
nor envy, which is quite excluded from
those divine regions ; but, on the contrary,
perfect charity, whereby every one, together
with his own felicity, enjoys that of his
neighbours, and is happy in the one as well
as the -other : hence there is among them a
kind of infinite reflection and multiplication
of happiness, like that «f a spacious hall
adorned with gold and precious stones, dig-
nified with a full assembly of kings and po-
tentates, and having its walls quite covered
with the brightest looking-glasses. 4. But
what infinitely exceeds, and quite eclipses
all the rest, is that boundless ocean of hap.
piness which results from the beatific vision
of the ever-blessed God ; without which,
neither the tranquillity they enjoy, nor the
society of saints, nor the possession of any
particular finite good, nor indeed of all
such taken together, can satisfy the soul, or
make it completely happy. The manner of
this enjoyment we can only expect to under-
stand when we enter upon the full possession
of it ; till then, to dispute and raise many
questions about it, is nothing but vain,
foolish talking, and fighting with phantoms
of our own brain. But the schoolmen, who
confine the whole of this felicity to bare
speculation, or, as they call it, an intellectual
act,* are in this, as in majiy other cases,
guilty of great presumption, and their con.
* Actus intellectualis.
OF THE LIFE TO COME.
elusion is built upon a very weak foundation.
For although contemplation be the highest
and noblest act of the mind, yet complete
happiness necessarily requires some present
good suited to the whole man, the whole soul
and all its faculties. Nor is it any objection
to this doctrine, that the whole of this felicity
is commonly comprehended in scripture
under the term of vision ; for the mental
vision, or contemplation of the primary and
infinite good, most properly signifies, or, at
least, includes in it, the full enjoyment of
that good ; and the observation of the Rab-
bins concerning scripture-phrases, " That
words expressing the senses, include also
the affections naturally arising from those
sensations,"* is very well known. Thus,
knowing is often put for approving and
loving ; and seeing for enjoying and attain-
ing. " Taste and see that God is good,"
says the Psalmist ; and in fact, it is no
small pleasure to lovers to dwell together,
and mutually to enjoy the sight of one an-
other. " Nothing is more agreeable to
lovers, than to live together.''^
We must, therefore, by all means con-
clude, that this beatific vision includes in it
not only a distinct and intuitive knowledge
of God, but, so to speak, such a knowledge
as gives us the enjoyment of that most per-
fect Being, and, in some sense, unites us to
him ; for such a vision it must of necessity
be, that converts that love of the Infinite
Good, which blazes in the souls of the saints
into full possession, that crowns all their
riches, and fills them with an abundant and
overflowing fulness of joy that vents itself in
everlasting blessings and songs of praise.
And this is the only doctrine, if you be-
lieve it, (and I make no doubt but you do,)
this, I say, is the only doctrine that will
transport your whole souls, and raise them
up on high. Hence you will learn to tram-
ple under feet all the turbid and muddy
pleasures of the flesh, and all the allurements
and splendid trifles of the present world.
However those earthly enjoyments that are
swelled up by false names and the strength
of imagination, to a vast size, may appear
grand and beautiful, and still greater and
more engaging to those that are unacquaint-
ed with them ; how small, how inconsidera-
ble do they all appear to a soul that looks
for a heavenly country, that expects to share
the joys of angels, and has its thoughts con-
stantly employed about these objects ! To
conclude : the more the soul withdraws, so
to speak, from the body, and retires within
itself, the more it rises above itself, and the
more closely it cleaves to God, the more the
life it lives, in this earth, resembles that
which it will enjoy in heaven, and the larger
foretastes it has of the first-fruits of that
' • Vcrba sensus connotant affectus.
* Ov?n oiiitt Ttn filan u; TC ru^i*-
5C7
blessed harvest. Aspire, therefore, to holi-
ness, young gentlemen, " without which no
man shall see the Lord."
LECTURE VII.
Of the BEING of GOD.
THOUGH, on most subjects, the opinions
of men are various, and often quite opposite,
insomuch that they seem to be more remark-
able for the vast variety of their sentiments
than that of their faces and languages ; there
are however two things, wherein all nations
are agreed, and in which there seems to be
a perfect harmony throughout the whole
human race — the desire of happiness and
a sense of religion. The former no man
desires to shake off; and though some,
possibly, would willingly part with the latter,
it is not in their power to eradicate it entire-
ly ; they cannot banish God altogether out
of their thoughts, nor extinguish every
spark of religion within them. It is cer-
tainly true, that for the most part this desire
of happiness wanders in darkness from one
object to another, without fixing upon any ;
and the sense of religion is either suffered to
lie inactive or deviates into superstition. Yet
the great Creator of the world employs these
two, as the materials of a fallen building, to
repair the ruins of the human race, and ai
handles whereby he draws his earthen vessel
out of the deep gulf of misery into which it
is fallen.
Of the former of these, that is felicity, we
have already spoken on another occasion :
we shall therefore now, with divine assist-
ance, employ some part of our time in con-
sidering that sense of religion that is natu-
rally impressed upon the mind of man.
Nor will our labour, I imagine, be unpro-
fitably employed in collecting together those
few general principles, in which so many,
and so very dissimilar forms of religion and
sentiments, extremely different, harmonious-
ly agree : for as every science most proper-
ly begins with universal propositions, and
things more generally known ; so, in the
present case, besides the other advantages,
it will be no small support to a weak and
wavering mind, that, amidst all the disputes
and contentions subsisting between the
various sects and parties in religion, the
great and necessary articles, at least, of our
faith, are established in some particulars, by
the general consent of mankind, and, in all
the rest, by that of the whole Christian world.
I would therefore most earnestly wish that
vour minds, " rooted and established in the
OF THE BEING OF GOD
faith,"* were firmly united in this delight-
ful bond of religion, which, like a golden
chain, will be no buiden, but an ornament ;
not a yoke of slavery, but a badge of true
and generous liberty. I would, by no means,
have you to be Christians, upon the authori-
ty of mere tradition or education, and the
example and precepts of parents and masters,
but from a full conviction of your own under-
standings, and a fervent disposition of the
will and affections proceeding therefrom ;
" for piety is the sole and only good among
mankind, "-f- and you can expect none of the
fruits of religion, unless the root of it be well
laid, and firmly established by faith ; " for
all the virtues are the daughters of faith,"
says Clemens Alexandrinus.
Lucretius, with very ill advised praises,
extols his favourite Grecian philosopher as
one fallen down from heaven to be the deli-
verer of mankind, and dispel their distress-
ing terrors and fears, because he had fancied
he had found out an effectual method to
banish all religion entirely out of the minds
of men. And to say the truth, in no age
have there been wanting brutish souls, too
much enslaved to their corporeal senses, that
would wish these opinions to be true ; yet,
after all, there are very few of them who are
able to persuade themselves of the truth oi
these vicious principles, which, with great
impudence and importunity, they commonly
inculcate upon others ; they belch out, with
full mouth, their foolish dreams, often in di-
rect opposition to conscience and knowledge ;
and, what they unhappily would wish to be
true, they can scarcely, if at all, believe
themselves. You are acquainted with Ho-
race's Recantation, wherein he tells us,
" that he had been long bigoted to the mad
tenets of the Epicurean philosophy ; but
found himself at last obliged to alter his
sentiments, and deny all he had asserted
before."§
Some souls lose the whole exercise of thei
reason, because they inform bodies that la-
bour under the defect of temperament or
of proper organs ; yet you continue to give
the old definition of man, and call him a
rational creature ; and should any one think
proper to call him a religious creature, he
would, to be sure, have as much reason on
his side, and need not fear his opinion would
be rejected, because of a few madmen who
laugh at religion. Nor is it improbable, a
some of the ancients have asserted, thai
those few among the Greeks, who were
called Atheists, had not that epithet because
t 'E» >-«;
TrismegisU
'»i>; XKI (}i£<zieu,u.itavi (vrij trirni. Coloss.
§ Parcus Deoruni cultor, et infrequens
Insanientis dum sapientiie
Coiisultus erro, Sit. Od xxxiv. lib. 1.
LECT. VII.
they absolutely denied the being of God,
but only because they rejected, and justly
laughed at, the fictitious and ridiculous
deities of the nations.
Of all the institutions and customs re-
ceived among men, we meet with nothing
more solemn and general than that of re-
ligion, and sacred rites performed to the
honour of some deity ; which is a very strong
argument, that that persuasion, in preference
to any other, is written, nay, rather engraven,
in strong and indelible characters upon the
mind of man. This is, as it were, the name
of the great Creator stamped upon the
noblest of all his visible works, that thus
man may acknowledge himself to be his ;
and (concluding, from the inscription he
finds impressed upon his mind, that what
belongs to God, ought in strict justice to
be restored to him) be wholly reunited to
his first principle, that immense ocean of
goodness whence he took his rise.* The
distemper that has invaded mankind is, in-
deed, grievous and epidemical ; it consists
in a mean ajid degenerate love to the body
and corporeal things ; and, in consequence
of this, a stupid and brutish forgetfulness of
God, though he can never be entirely blotted
out of the mind. This forgetfulness a few,
and but very few, alarmed and awakened
by the Divine rod, early shake off ; and even
in the most stupid, and such as are buried
in the deepest sleep, the original impression
sometimes discovers itself, when they are
under the pressure of some grievous cala-
mity, or on the approach of danger, and
especially upon a near prospect of death : then
the thoughts of God, that had lain hid,
and been long suppressed, forced out by the
weight of pain, and the impressions of fear,
come to be remembered, and the whole
soul being, as it were, roused out of its long
and deep sleep, men begin to look about
them, inquire what the matter is, and seri-
ously reflect whence they came, and whither
they are going. Then the truth comes natu-
rally from their hearts. The stormy sea
alarmed even profane sailors so much, that
they awakened the sleeping Prophet :
" Awake," say they, " thou sleeper, and
call upon thy God."
But however weak and imperfect this
original or innate knowledge of God may be,
it discovers itself every where so far, at least,
that you can meet with no man, or society
of men, that, by some form of worship or
ceremonies, do not acknowledge a Deity, and,
according to their capacity, and the custom
of their country, pay him homage. It is
true, some late travellers have reported, that,
in that part of the new world called Brazil,
there are some tribes of the natives, among
whom you can discover no symptoms that
they have the least sense of a Deity : but,
• r.ECT. VII.
besides that the truth of this report is very
far from being well ascertained, and that the
observation might have been too precipitately
made by new comers, who had not made suf-
ficient inquiry — even supposing it to be true,
it is not of such consequence, when opposed
to all the rest of the world, and the universal
agreement of all nations and ages upon this
subject, that the least regard should be paid
to it. Nor must we imagine that it, at all,
lessens the weight of this great argument,
which has been generally, and most justly,
urged, both by ancients and modems, to es-
tablish the first and common foundations of
religion.
Now, whoever accurately considers this
universal sense of religion of which we have
been speaking, will find that it comprehends
in it these particulars : 1 . That there is a
God. 2. That he is to be worshipped. 3.
Which is a consequence of the fonner, that
he regards the affairs of men. 4. That he
has given them a law, enforced by rewards
and punishments ; and, that the distribution
of these is, in a very great measure, reserved
to a life different from that we live in this
earth, is the firm belief, if not of all, at least
of the generality of mankind. And though
our present purpose does not require that we
should confirm the truth of all these points
with those strong arguments that might be
urged in their favour ; but rather, that we
should take them for granted, as being suf-
ficiently established by the common consent
of mankind ; we shall, however, subjoin a
few thoughts on each of them, separately,
with as great brevity and perspicuity as we
can.
1. THAT THERE is A GOD. And here
I cannot help fearing, that when we endea-
vour to confirm this leading truth, with re-
gard to the first, and uncreated Being, by a
long and laboured series of arguments, we
may seem, instead of a service, to do a kind
of injury to God and man both. For why
should we use the pitiful light of a candle to
discover the sun, and eagerly go about to
prove the being of Htm who gave being to
every thing else ; who alone exists necessa-
rily, nay, we may boldly say, who alone
exists ; seeing all other things were by him
extracted out of nothing, and, when compar-
ed with him, they are nothing, and even less
than nothing, and vanity ! And would not
any man think himself insulted, should it
be suspected that he doubted of the being
of Him, without whom he could neither
doubt nor think, nor be at all ? This per-
suasion, without doubt, is innate, and strong-
ly impressed upon the mind of man, if any
thing at all can be said to be so.* Nor does
Jamblicus scruple to say, " That to know
God is our very being :"-f- and in another
* Primum visibilelux, et primum intelligibile Deus.
f Esse nostrum est Deum cognoscere.
OF THE BEING OF GOD.
place, " That it is the very being of the soul
to know God, on whom it depends."" Nor
would he think amiss, who, in this, should
espouse the opinion of Plato ; for to know
this is nothing more than to call to remem-
brance what was formerly impressed upon
the mind ; and when one forgets it, which,
alas ! is too much the case of us all, he has
as many remembrancers, so to speak, within
him, as he has members ; and as many with-
out him as the individuals of the vast variety
of creatures to be seen around him. Let,
therefore, the indolent soul that has almost
forgot God, be roused up, and every now and
then say to itself, " Behold this beautiful
starry heaven," &c.
But because we have too many of that sort
of fools that say in their heart, " There is no
God," and if we are " not to answer a fool,
so as to ba like unto him ;" yet we are, by
all means, to " answer him according to his
folly, lest he be wise in his own conceit ;"
again, because a criminal forgetfulness of
this leading truth is the sole source of all the
wickedness in the world ; and, finally, be-
cause it may not be quite unprofitable nor
unpleasant, even to the best of men, some-
times to recollect their thoughts on this sub-
ject ; but, on the contrary, a very pleasant
exercise to every well-disposed mind, to re-
flect on what a solid and unshaken founda-
tion the whole fabric of religion is built, and
to think and speak of the eternal Fountain
of Goodness, and of all other beings, and
consequently of his necessary existence : we
reckon it will not be amiss to give a few
thoughts upon it. Therefore, not to insist
upon several arguments, which are urged
witli great advantage on this subject, we
shall only produce one or two, and shall rea-
son thus :
It is by all means necessary that there
should be some eternal Being, otherwise no-
thing could ever have been ; since it must
be a most shocking contradiction to say, that
any thing could have produced itself out of
nothing. But if we say, that any thing ex-
isted from eternity, it is most agreeable to
reason that that should be an eternal Mind,
or thinking Being, that so the noblest pro-
perty may be ascribed to the most exalted
Being. Nay, that eternal Being must, of
absolute necessity, excel in wisdom and
power, and, indeed, in every other perfection ;
since it must itself be uncreated, and the
cause and origin of all the creatures, other-
wise some difficulty will remain concerning
their production. And thus all the parts of
the universe, taken singly, suggest arguments
in favour of their Creator.
The beautiful order of the universe, and
the mutual relation that subsists between all
its parts, present us with another strong and
* Esse animae, est quoddam intelligere, scilicet
Deum, unde dependet.
570
OF THE BEING OF GOD.
convincing argument. This order is itself
an effect, and, indeed, a wonderful one ; and
it is also evidently distinct from the things
themselves, taken singly ; therefore it must
proceed from some cause, and a cause en-
dowed with superior wisdom ; for -it would
be the greatest folly, as well as impudence,
to say it could be owing to mere chance.
Now, it could not proceed from man, nor
could it be owing to any concert or mutual
agreement between the things themselves,
separately considered ; seeing the greatest
part of them are evidently incapable of con-
sultation and concert : it must therefore pro-
ceed from one superior Being, and that being
is God, " who commanded the stars to move
by stated laws, the fruits of the earth to be
produced at different seasons, the changeable
moon to shine with borrowed light, and the
sun with his own."*
He is the monarch of the universe, and the
most absolute monarch in nature : for who
else assigned to every rank of creatures its
particular form and uses, so that the stars,
subjected to no human authority or laws,
should be placed on high, and serve to bring
about to the earth, and the inhabitants
thereof, the regular returns of day and night,
and distinguish the seasons of the year ? Let
us take, in particular, any one species of sub-
lunary things, for instance man, the noblest
of all, and see how he came by the form
wherewith he is vested, that frame or consti-
tution of body, that vigour of mind, and that
precise rank in the nature of things, which
he now obtains, and no other. He must,
certainly, either have made choice of these
things for himself, or must have had them
assigned him by another ; whom we must
consider as the principal actor and sole archi-
tect of the whole fabric. That he made
choice of them for himself, nobody will ima-
gine ; for, either he made this choice before
he had any existence of his own, or after he
began to be : but it is not easy to say which
of these suppositions is most absurd. It re-
mains, therefore, that he must be indebted
for all he enjoys, to the mere good pleasure
of his great and all-wise Creator, who framed
his earthly body in such a wonderful and
surprising manner, animated him with his
own breath, and thus introduced him into
this great palace of his, which we now be-
hold ; where his manifold wisdom, most
properly so called, dispkys itself so glorious-
ly in the whole machine, and in every one of
its wonderfully variegated parts.
The first argument, taken from the very
being of things, may be further illustrated by
the same instance of man : for unless the
first man was created, we must suppose an in-
* • Qui lege moveri
Sidera, <jui fruges diverso tempore nasci,
Qui variam Phceben alieno jusserit igne
Compleri, solemque s;m.
LECT. Vlt.
finite series of generations from eternity, and
so the human race must be supposed inde-
pendent, and to owe its being to itself; but,
by this hypothesis, mankind came into the
world by generation, therefore every indivi-
dual of the race owes its being to another ;
consequently the whole race is from itself,
and at the same time from another ; which
is absurd. Therefore the hypothesis im-
plies a plain and evident contradiction. " O!
immense wisdom, that produced the world I
Let us for ever admire the riches and skil.
of thy right-hand ;"* often viewing with at-
tention thy wonders, and, while we view
them, frequently crying out with the divine
Psalmist, " O Lord, how manifold are thy
works ! In wisdom hast thou made them all.
The earth is full of thy riches !"-j- " From
everlasting to everlasting thou art God, and
besides thee, there is no other."$ And with
Hermes : " The Father of all, being him-
self understanding, life, and brightness,
created man like himself, and cherished him
as his own son. Thou Creator of universal
nature, who hast extended the earth, who
poisest the heavens, and commandest the
waters to flow from all the parts of the sea,
we praise thee, who art the one exalted God,
for by thy will all things are perfected."|j
The same author asserts, that God was prior
to humid nature.
In vain would any one endeavour to evade
the force of our argument, by substituting
nature in the place of God, as the princi-
pal cause of this beautiful order : for either
by nature, he understands the particular
frame and composition of every single thing,
which would be saying nothing at all to the
purpose in hand, because it is evident, that
this manifold nature, which in most instan-
ces is quite void of reason, could never be
the cause of that beautiful order and har-
mony which is every where conspicuous
throughout the whole system ; or he means
an universal and intelligent nature, disposing
and ordering every thing to advantage. But
this is only another name for God ; of whom
it may be said, in a sacred sense, that he, as
an infinite Nature and Mind, pervades and
fills all his works. Not as an informing
form, according to the expression of the
schools, and as the part of a compounded
whole, which is the idlest fiction that can be
imagined ; for, at this rate, he must not on-
ly be a part of the vilest insects, but also of
stocks and stones, and clods of earth ; but a
pure, unmixed nature, which orders and go-
verns all things with the greatest freedom and
» O ! immensa, opifex rerum, sapiential dextras
Divitias artemque tuae miremur in aevum.
t Psalm civ. 24. $ Psalm xc. 2.
11 'O fravTtfjv Htx.Tr,ff. o vovf &iv £AIIJ Jcatt tyus* etxtxvyri
avlifoi-rtui tu tifctfOr, a; iSiou TOXO'I- Henrys Qvrtus K.TITTJH,
xe>f&arx( xa,i i-rirxl-Kt tt
OF THE BEING OF GOD.
571
wisdom, and supports them with unwearied ; mortal bodies. This most profound mystery
and almighty power. In this acceptation, though obscurely represented by the shadows
when you name Nature, you mean God.
Seneca's words are very apposite to this pur-
pose : " Whithersoever you turn yourself,
you see God meeting you ; nothing excludes
his presence ; he fills all his works ; there,
fore it is in vain for thee, most ungrateful of
all men, to say, thou art not indebted to
God, but to Nature, because they are, in
fact, the same. If thou hadst received any
thing from Seneca, and should say, ' thou
owedst it to Annaeus or Lucius, thou would-
est not thereby change thy creditor, but only
his name ; because, whether thou mention,
est his name or sirname, his person is still
the same."*
An evident and most natural consequence
of this universal and necessary idea of a God,
is his unity. All that mention the term
God, intend to convey by it the idea of the
first, most exalted, necessarily existent, and
infinitely perfect Being; and it is plain,
there can he but one Being endued with all
these perfections. Nay, even the Polytheism
that prevailed among the Heathen nations,
was not carried so far, but that they acknow-
ledged one God, by way of eminence, as su-
preme, and absolutely above all the rest,
whom they styled the greatest and best of
Beings, and the Father of gods and men.
From him all the rest had their being and
all that they were, and from him also they
had the title of gods, but still in a limited
and subordinate sense. In confirmation of
this, we meet with very many of the clearest
testimonies, with regard to the unity of God,
in the works of all the Heathen authors.
That of Sophocles is very remarkable :
" There is indeed," says he, " one God, and
but one, who has made the heavens, and the
wide- extended earth, the blue surges of the
sea, and the strength of the winds."-|-
As to the mystery of the sacred Trinity,
which has a near and necessary connexion
with the present subject, I always thought it
was to be received and adored with the
most humble faith, but by no means to be
curiously searched into, or perplexed with
the absurd questions of the schoolmen. We
fell by an arrogant ambition after knowledge ;
by mere faith we rise again, and are rein-
stated ; and this mystery, indeed, rather than
any other, seems to be a tree of knowledge,
prohibited to us while we sojourn in these
* Quocunquete flexeris, ibi Deum vides occurrentem
tibi. nihil ab lllo vacat ; opus suum ipse implet : ergo
nihil agis, ingratisMme mortalium, qui te negas Deo
debere, sed N aturae, quia eidem est utrumque officium.
Si quid a Seneca accepisses, et Annaeo te diccres debere
vel Lucio, non creditorem mutares, sed nomen, quo-
niam sive nomen ejus dicas, sive pisenomen, sive cog-
nomen, idem tamen ipse est. ^ESKCA, 4, L/C Bener.
t El; TXH Kt.r.b'.iturif, ti; Hit »=»,-.
'Of evfaror T' srsujs za.1 yxixt //.««{<«,
n«»TOu Tt za'axot eib.UrX zatif&ai/ $Mi-
by the shadows
of the Old Testament, rather than clearly re-
vealed, was not unknown to the most an-
cient and celebrated doctors among the Jews,
nor altogether unattested, however obstinate'
ly later authors may maintain the contrary
Nay, learned men have observed, that the
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, are express 1>
acknowledged in the books of the Cabalists,
and they produce surprising things to thiy
purpose out of the book Zohar, which is as
cribed to R. Simeon, Ben Joch, and some
other Cabalistical writers. Nay, the book
just now mentioned, after saying a great deal
concerning the Three-in-one essence, adds,
" That this secret will not be revealed to all
till the coming of the Messias."» I insist
not upon what is said of the name consisting
of twelve letters, and another larger one of
forty-two, as containing a fuller explication
of that most sacred name, which they called
" Hammephorash."-f-
Nor is it improbable, that some dawn at
least of this mystery had reached even the
Heathen philosophers. There are some who
think they can prove, by arguments of no
inconsiderable weight, that Anaxagoras, by
his \uv: or mind, meant nothing but the Son,
or Wisdom that made the world. But the
testimonies are clearer, which you find, fre-
quently among the Platonic philosophers,
concerning the Three subsisting from one ;£
moreover, they all call the self -existent Being,
the creating word, or the mind and the
soul of the world. \\ But the words of the
Kgyptian Hermes are very surprising : " The
mind, which is God, together with his word,
produced another creating mind ; nor do
they differ from one another, for their union
But what we now insist upon is, the plain
and evident necessity of one Supreme, and
therefore of one only Principle of all things,
and the harmonious agreement of mankind
in the belief of the absolute necessity of this
same Principle.
This is the God whom we admire, whom
we worship, whom we entirely love, or, at
least, whom we desire to love above all things,
whom we can neither express in words, nor
conceive in our thoughts ; and the less we
are capable of these things, so much the
more necessary it is to adore him with the
profoundest humility, and love him with the
greatest intentness and fervour.
* Hoc arcanum non revelabitur unicuique, quous-
que venerit Messias.
f Maim. Mor. Nev. par. i. c. 16.
T Iltei rfiut ij iia iiTcffTairan.
I To O.VTO, M Ttr ^y.iun-yn A»y«n, seu tcm, xai T«|t
572
OF THE WORSHIP OF GOD,
I.ECT. vin.
LECTURE VIII.
Of the WORSHIP of GOD, PROVIDENCE, and
the LAW given to MAN.
THOUGH I thought it by no means proper
to proceed without taking notice of the argu-
ments that served to confirm the first and
leading truth of religion, and the general
consent of mankind with regard to it ; yet
the end I chiefly proposed to myself, was to
examine this consent, and point out its force,
and the use to which it ought to be applied ;
to call off your minds from the numberless
disputes about religion, to the contemplation
of this universal agreement, as into a more
quiet and peaceable country ; and to shew
you, what I wish I could effectually convince
you of, that there is more weight and force
in this universal harmony and consent of
mankind in a few of the great and universal
principles, to confirm our minds in the sum
and substance of religion, than the innumer-
able disputes that still subsist with regard to
the other points, ought to have to discourage
us in the exercise of true piety, or in the least
to weaken our faith.
In consequence of this, it will be proper to
lay before you the other propositions contain-
ed in this general consent of mankind, with
regard to religion. Now, the first of these
being, " That there is one, and but one,
Eternal Principle of all things ;" from this
it will most naturally follow, " that this
Principle or Deity is to be honoured with
some worship ;" and from these two taken
together, it must be, with the same necessity,
concluded, " that there is a providence, ora
that God doth not despise or neglect the
world which he has created, and mankind,
by whom he ought to be, and actually is
worshipped, but governs them with the most
watchful and perfect wisdom."
All mankind acknowledge, that some kind
of worship is due to God, and to perform it
is by all means worthy of man : and upon
the minds of all is strongly impressed that
sentiment which Lactantius expressed, with
great perspicuity and brevity, in these words,
" To know God is wisdom, and to worship
him, justice."*
In this worship some things are natural,
and therefore of more general use among all
nations, such as vows and prayers, hymns
and praises ; as also some bodily gestures,
especially such as teem most proper to express
reverence and respect. All the rest, for the
most part, actually consist of ceremonies,
either of divine institution or human inven-
tion. Of this sort are sacrifices, the use
whereof, in old times, very much prevailed
in all nations, and still continues in the
greater part of the world.
* Deum nossc, sapientia ; colere, justiti*-
A Majesty so exalted, no doubt, deserves
the highest honour and the sublimest praises
on his own account ; but still, if men were
not persuaded that the testimonies of homage
and respect they offer to God, were known to
him, and accepted of him, even on this ac-
count all human piety would cool, and pre-
sently disappear. And, indeed, prayers and
vows, whereby we implore the Divine assist-
ance, and solicit blessings from above, of-
fered to a God who neither hears nor in the
least regards them, would be an instance of
the greatest folly ; nor is it to be imagined,
that all nations would ever have agreed in
the extravagant custom of addressing them-
selves to gods that did not hear.
Supposing, therefore, any religion or di-
vine worship, it immediately follows there-
from, that there is also a providence. This
was acknowledged of old, and is still ac-
knowledged by the generality of all nations,
throughout the world, and the most famous
philosophers. There were, indeed, particular
men, and some whole sects, that denied it :
others, who acknowledged a kind of provi-
dence, confined it to the heavens, among
whom was Aristotle, as appears from his
book De Mundo ; which notion is justly
slighted by Nazianzen, who calls it a mere
limited providence.* Others allowed it some
place in the things of this world, but on]/
extended it to generals, in opposition to in.
dividuals ; but others, with the greatest jus-
tice, acknowledged that all things, even the
most minute and inconsiderable, were the
objects of it. " He fills his own work, nor
is he only over it, but also in it."-}- More-
over, if we ascribe to God the origin of this
fabric, and all things in it, it will be most
absurd and inconsistent to deny him the pre-
servation and government of it ; for if he
does not preserve and govern his creatures,
it must be either because he cannot, or be-
cause he will not ; but his infinite power and
wisdom make it impossible to doubt of the
former, and his infinite goodness of the
latter. The words of Epictetus are admir-
able : " There were five great men," said
he, "of which number were Ulysses and
Socrates, who said that they could not so much
as move without the knowledge of God ;"J
and in another place, " If I was a nightin-
gale, I would act the part of a nightingale ;
if a swan, that of a swan ; now that I am a
reasonable creature, it is my duty to praise
God."||
It would be needless to shew, that so great
a fabric could not stand without some being
* M/XJoAcj'flV XPOVMOLV-
\ Opus suum ipse iraplet, nee solum praeest, seil
iriest.
Js ut r,v xxi Oduirrivs, xai SuxfctTve, M
r.iio- ft '/.v.Ua »itovfj.i»n. Arrian. lib. 1.
cap. 12. liifi Etixfiirri/riaf, &c.
il E< ymi «.Y)>UI Y.U.-V, itrtiutr <t» rr,: xrftte;, u
nuzvtif TX rev r.vx,itiV tvi it kfyixc; tiu.i,-vumt /*( Jl"
f*» Out. Ibid. cap. 16.
LECT. VIII.
properly qualified to watch over it ; that the
unerring course of the stars is not the effect
of blind fortune ; that what chance sets on
foot is often put out of order, and soon falls
to pieces ; that, therefore, this unerring and
regular velocity is owing to the influence of
a fixed, eternal law. It is, to be sure, a
very great miracle, merely to know so great
a multitude, and such a vast variety of
things, not only particular towns, but also
provinces and kingdoms, even the whole
earth, all the myriads of creatures that crawl
upon the earth, and all their thoughts ; in a
word, at the same instant to hear and see all
that happens" on both hemispheres of this
globe : how much more wonderful must it
be, to rule and govern all these at once, and,
as it were, with one glance of the eye !
When we consider this, may we not cry out
with the poet, " O thou great Creator of
heaven and earth, who governest the world
with constant and unerring sway, who bid-
dest time to flow throughout ages, and con-
tinuing unmoved thyself, givest motion to
every thing else," &c.?-f-
It is also a great comfort to have the faith
of this providence constantly impressed upon
the mind, so as to have recourse to it in the
midst of all confusions, whether public or
private, and all calamities from without or
from within ; to be able to say, The great
King, who is also my Father, is the su-
preme ruler of all these things, and with him
all my interests are secure ; to stand firm,
with Moses, when no relief appears, and to
look for the salvation of God J from on high ;
and, finally, in every distress, when all hope
of human assistance is swallowed up in despair,
to have the remarkable saying of the Father of
the faithful stamped upon the mind, and to
silence all fears with these comfortable words,
" God will provide." In a word, there is
nothing that can so effectually conform the
heart of man, and his inmost thoughts, and
consequently the whole tenor of his life, to
the most perfect rule of religion and piety,
than a firm belief and frequent meditation
on this Divine Providence, that superintends
and governs the world. He who is firmly
persuaded, that an exalted God of infinite
wisdom and purity is constantly present with
him, and sees all that he thinks or acts, will,
to be sure, have no occasion to overawe his
mind with the imaginary presence of a
Laelius or a Cato. Josephus assigns this as
the source or root of Abel's purity : " In all
his actions," says he, " he considered that
God was present with him, and therefore
made virtue his constant study. "§
* TlettT <?C(<jt.i, xttl Tttyr t-rxxn-jitr-
T O ! qui perpetua mundum ratione gubernas
Terrarum coeliqiie Sator, qui tempus ab jevo,
Ire jubes; stabilisque manens das cuncta mover:.
Boeth. de Con. Hhilosoph. lib. iii. metr. 9.
}Vere e«» are mxanif.
II Ota-fir TCt; UT KVTtU !T(tlTTtU.'.t»i; rafiltttl Tit 8l«r
tefju^ut, UflTr,; -r(HtniTO Alltlg. lib. i. Cap. 3.
AND THE LAW GIVEN TO MA N.
Moreover, the Heathen nations acknow.
ledge this superintendence of Divine Pro-
vidence over human affairs in this very re-
spect, and that it is exercised in observing
the morals of mankind, and distributing re-
wards and punishments. But this supposes
some law or rule, either revealed from hea-
ven, or stamped upon the hearts of men, to
be the measure and test of moral good and
evil, that is, virtue and vice. Man, there-
fore, is not a lawless creature,* but capable
of a law, and actually born under one, which
he himself is also ready to own. " We are
bom in a kingdom," says the Rabbinical
philosopher, " and to obey God is liberty."f
But this doctrine, however perspicuous and
clear in itself, seems to be a little obscured
by one cloud, that is, the extraordinary suc-
cess which bad men often meet with, and
the misfortunes and calamities to which vir-
tue is frequently exposed. The saying of
Brutus, " O ! wretched virtue ; thou art
regarded as nothing," &c.+ is well known ;
as are also those elegant verses of the poet,
containing a lively picture of the perplexity
of a mind wavering, and at a loss upon this
subject : " My mind," says he, " has often
been perplexed with difficulties and doubts,
whether the gods regard the affairs of this
earth, or whether there was no providence at
all, &c — For when I considered the order
and disposition of the world, and the bound-
aries set to the sea — I thence concluded,
that all things were secured by the provi-
dence of God, &c — But when 1 saw the
affairs of men involved in so much darkness
and confusion," &c.§
But not to insist upon a great many other
considerations, which even the philosophy of
the Heathens suggested, in vindication of the
doctrine of a providence ; there is one consi-
deration of great weight to be set in opposi-
tion to the whole of this prejudice, viz. that
it is an evidence of a rash and forward mind,
to pass sentence upon things that are not yet
perfect and brought to a final conclusion,
which even the Roman Stoic and the philo-
sopher of Chaeronea insist upon, at large, on
this subject. If we will judge from events,
let us put off the cause, and delay sentence,
(ill the whole series of these events come be-
fore us ; and let us not pass sentence upon a
successful tyrant, while he is triumphant
before our eyes, and while we are quite igno-
rant of the fate that may be awaiting himself
or his son, or at least his more remote poste-
* Z««r oLiiiUit'
\ In regno nati sumus, Deo parere, liberUs.
± fl r>.ruMi x;lrr,, Us tvilr, «Vc.
§ Sepe inilii dubiam traxit sententia mente u
Curarent super! terras, 4c.
Nam cum dispositi quscsissem foedera mundi
Praescriptosque maris fines —
hinc omnia rebar
Consilia firmata Dei, &c.
Sed cum res hominum tanta caligine volvi
Aspicerem, Ac.
Claudian ir Hufinum. lib. i
OF THE PLEASURE
rity. The ways of Divine justice are wonder-
fuL " Punishment stalks silently, and with
a slow pace : it will, however, at last
overtake the wicked."* But, after all, if
we expect another scene of things to be ex-
hibited, not here, but in the world to come,
the whole dispute, concerning the events of
this short and precarious life, immediately
disappears, and comes to nothing. And, to
conclude, the consent of wise men, states, and
nations on this subject, though it is not quite
unanimous and universal, is very great, and
ought to have the greatest weight.
But all these maxims we have mentioned,
are more clearly taught and more firmly be-
lieved in the Christian religion, which is of
undoubted truth ; it has also some doctrines
peculiar to itself, -J- annexed to the former,
and most closely connected with them, in
which the whole Christian world, though by
far too much divided with regard to other
disputed articles, are unanimously agreed,
and firmly united together ; but of this here-
after.
LECTURE IX.
Of the Pleasure and Utility of RELIGION.
THOUGH the author of the following pas-
sage was a great proficient in the mad phi-
losophy of Epicurus, yet he had truth
strongly on his side, when he said, " That
nothing was more pleasant than to be station-
ed on the lofty temples, well defended and
secured by the pure and peaceable doctrines
of the wise philosophers. "J
Now, can any doctrine be imagined more
wise, more pure and peaceable, and more
sacred, than that which flowed from the
most perfect Fountain of wisdom and purity,
which was sent down from heaven to earth,
that it might guide all its followers to that
happy place whence it took its rise ? It is,
to be sure, the wisdom of mankind 10 know
God, and their indispensable duty to wor-
ship him ; without this, men of the brightest
parts and greatest learning, seem to be born
with excellent talents, only to make them,
selves miserable ; and, according to the ex-
pression of the wisest of kings, " He that
increaseth knowledge, increaseth sorrow." §
We must, therefore, first of all, consider this
as a sure and settled point, that religion is
the sole foundation of human peace and
felicity. This even the profane scoffers at
Bene quam munlta tenere
Edita dpctrina sapientum templa serena, LUCRRT.
§ Qui scientiam, auget cruciatUm. Eccles. i. 18.
religion are, in some sort, obliged to own
though much against their will, even while
they are pointing their wit against it ; for
nothing is more common to be heard from
them, than that the whole doctrine of religion
was invented by some wise men, to encourage
the practice of justice and virtue through the
world. Surely then, religion, whatever else
may be said of it, must be a matter of the
highest value, since it is found necessary to
secure advantages of so very great importance.
But, in the mean time, how unhappy is the
case of integrity and virtue, if what they
want to support them is merely fictitious,
and they cannot keep their ground but by
means of a monstrous forgery ! But far be
it from us to entertain such an absurdity .'
For the first rule of righteousness cannot be
otherwise than right, nor is there any thing
more nearly allied, nor more friendly to
virtue, than truth.
But religion is not only highly conducive
to all the great advantages of human life,
but is also, at the same time, most pleasant
and delightful. Nay, if it is so useful, and
absolutely necessary to the interests of virtue,
it must, for this very reason, be also pleasant,
unless one will call in question a maxim
universally approved by all wise men, " That
life cannot be agreeable without virtue :"•
a maxim of such irrefragable and undoubted
truth, that it was adopted even by Epicurus
himself.
How great, therefore, must have been thf
madness of that noted Grecian philosopher,
who, while he openly maintained the dignity
and pleasantness of virtue, at the same time
employed the whole force of his understand-
ing, to ruin and sap its foundations ! For,
that this was his fixed purpose, Lucretius
not only owns, but also boasts of it, and
loads him with ill-advised praises, for endea-
vouring, through the whole course of his
philosophy, to free the minds of men from
all the bonds and ties of religion : as if
there were no possible way to make them
happy and free, without involving them in
the guilt of sacrilege and atheism ; as if to
eradicate all sense of a Deity out of the
mind, were the only way to free it from the
heaviest chains and fetters ; though in reali-
ty, this would be effectually robbing man
of all his valuable jewels, of his golden
crown and chain, all the riches, ornaments,
and pleasures of his life : which is inculcated
at large, and with great eloquence, by a
greater and more divine master of wisdom,
the royal author of the Proverbs, who,
speaking of the precepts of religion, says,
" They shall be an ornament of grace unto
thine head, and chains about thy neck :"+
and of religion under the name of wisdom,
" If thou seekest her as silver, and search est
* Oux itiia.1 folia; \r.n anv ir,t urtTrj.
i Prov. i. y.
AND UTILITY OF RELIGION.
573
for her as for hidden treasure."* " Happy
is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man
that getteth understanding. For the mer-
chandise of it is better than the merchandise
of silver, and the gain thereof than fine
gold."-f- " Wisdom is the principal thing,
therefore get wisdom : and with all thy get-
ting, get understanding.":}: And it is, in-
deed, very plain, that if it were possible
entirely to dissolve all the bonds and ties of
religion ; yet, that it should be so, would,
certainly, be the interest of none but the
worst and most abandoned part of mankind.
All the good and wise, if the matter were freely
left to their choice, would rather have the world
governed by the supreme and most perfect Be-
ing, mankind subjected to his just and righ-
teous laws, and aU the affairs of men super-
intended by his watchful providence, than that
it should be otherwise. Nor do they believe
the doctrines of religion with aversion, or any
sort of reluctancy, but embrace them with
pleasure, and are excessively glad to find them
true. So that, if it was possible to abolish
them entirely, and any person, out of mere
good-will to them, should attempt to do it,
they would look upon the favour as highly
prejudicial to their interest, and think his
good-will more hurtful than the keenest ha-
tred. Nor would any one, in his wits, choose
to live in the world at large, and without
any sort of government, more than he would
think it eligible to be put on board a ship
without a helm or pilot, and, in this condi-
tion, to be tossed amidst rocks and quick-
sands. On the other hand, can any thing
give greater consolation, or more substantial
joy,§ than to be firmly persuaded, not only
that there is an infinitely good and wise
Being, but also that this Being preserves
and continually governs the universe, which
himself has framed, and holds the reins of
all things in his powerful hand ; that he is
our Father ; that we and all our interests are
his constant concern ; and that, after we
have sojourned a short while here below, we
shall be again taken into his immediate pre-
sence ? Or can this wretched life be attend-
ed with any sort of satisfaction, if it is di-
vested of this divine faith, and bereaved of
such a blessed hope ?
Moreover, every one that thinks a generous
fortitude and purity of mind preferable to
the charms and muddy pleasures of the flesh,
finds all the precepts of religion not only not
grievous, but exceeding pleasant, and ex-
tremely delightful. So that, upon the
whole, the saying of Hermes is very consis-
tent with the nature of things : " There is
one, and but one good thing among men,
and that is religion." || Even the vulgar
» Prov. ii. 4.
f Prov. xiii. 14.
Ibid. iv. 7.
could not bear the degenerate expression of
the player, who called out upon the stage,
" Money is the chief good among man-
ind."* But should any one sav. " Religion
kind
y one say, " Religion
is the principal good of mankind," no ob-
jection could be made against it ; -f- for,
without doubt, it is the only object, the
beauties whereof engage the love both of
God and man.
But the principal things in religion, as I
have frequently observed, are " just concep-
tions of God." Now, concerning this infinite
Being, some things are known by the light
of nature and reason, others only by the
revelation which he hath been pleased to make
of himself from heaven. That there is a
God, is the distinct voice of every man, and
of every thing without him : how much
more, then, shall we be confirmed in the
belief of this truth, if we attentively view the
whole creation, and the wonderful order and
harmony that subsist between all the parts
of the whole system ! It is quite unnecessary
to shew, that so great a fabric could never
have been brought into being without an all-
wise and powerful Creator ; nor could it now
subsist without the same Almighty Being to
support and preserve it. " Let men, there-
fore, make this their constant study," says
Lactantius, " even to know their common
Parent and Lord, whose power can never be
perfectly known, whose greatness cannot be
fathomed, nor his eternity comprehended. "J
When the mind of man with its faculties,
comes to be once intensely fixed upon him,
all other objects disappearing, and being as
it were removed quite out of sight, it is en-
tirely at a stand and overpowered, nor can
it possibly proceed further. But concerning
the doctrine of this vast volume of the works
of God, and that still brighter light which
shines forth in the Scriptures, we shall speak
more fully hereafter.
LECTURE X.
> £> xau utxoi, it tttO'vxais <*x«
Of the DECREES of GOD.
As the glory and brightness of the Divine
Majesty is so great, that the strongest human
eye cannot bear the direct rays of it, he has
exhibited himself to be viewed in the glass
of those works which he created at first, and,
sy his unwearied hand, continually supports
and governs ; nor are we allowed to view his
eternal counsels and purposes through any
• Pecunia magnum generis human! bonum.
t Ovx iff xtrtiriit cvSii-
$ Ut Parentem suum Dominumque cognoscant,
cuius nee virtus sestimari potest, nee magnitude per-
spici, nee acternitas comprehend!.
OF THE DECREES OF GOD.
other medium but this. So that, in our cate-
chisms, especially the shorter one, designed
for the instruction of the ignorant, it might,
perhaps, have been full as proper to have
passed over the awful speculation concerning
the Divine decrees, and to have proceeded,
directly, to the consideration of ihe works of
God ; but the thoughts you find in it, on
this subject, are few, sober, clear, and cer-
tain : and, in explaining them, I think it
most reasonable and most safe to confine our-
selves within these limits, in any audience
whatever, but especially in this congregation,
consisting of youths, not to say, in a great
measure, of boys. Seeing, therefore, the de-
crees of God are mentioned in our Catechism,
and it would not be proper to pass over in
silence a matter of so great moment, I shall
accordingly lay before you some few thoughts
upon this arduous subject.
And here, if any where, we ought, accord-
ing to the common saying, to reason but in
few words. I should, indeed, think it very
improper to do otherwise ; for such theories
ought to be cautiously touched rather than
be spun out to a great length. One thing
we may confidently assert, that all those
things which the great Creator produces in
different periods of time, were perfectly
known to him, and, as if. were, present with
him from eternity ; and every thing that hap-
pens throughout the several ages of the
world, proceeds in the same order, and the
same precise manner, as the Eternal Mine
at first intended it should ; that none of his
counsels can be disappointed or rendered in-
effectual, or in the least changed or alteree
by any event whatsoever. " Known to Goe
are all his works,"* says the apostle in the
council of Jerusalem ; and the son of Sirach,
" God sees from everlasting (o everlasting,
and nothing is wonderful in his sight."-}-
Nothing is new or unexpected to him ; no-
thing can come to pass that he has not fore-
seen ; and his first thoughts are so wise, tha
they admit no second ones that can be sup-
posed wiser. And " this stability and im-
mutability of the Divine decrees,"^ is as-
serted even by the Roman philosopher : " I
is necessary," says he, " that the same thing!
be always pleasing to Him who can never be
pleased but with what is best."||
Every artist, to be sure, as you also wel
know, works according to some pattern
which is the immediate object of his mind
and this pattern, in the all-wise Creator, musi
necessarily be entirely perfect, and every way
complete. And if this is what Plato intend-
ed by his ideas, which not a few, and those
« Note sunt Deo ab initio omnia sua opera. Acts
xv. 18.
t A seculo in seculum respicit Deus, et nihil es
mirabile in conspectu ejus.
t To *,aiTO CA.);r«v zoti axirvrtr ra.r Sum /SovX'.v
|IMM«*.
II Nece*se est Uli eadem semper placcre, cui nis
optima placere non peasant.
>y no means unlearned, think very likely ;
lis own scholar, the great Stagirite, and your
'avourite philosopher, had surely no reason,
so often and so bitterly, to inveigh against
them. Be this as it may, all that acknow-
.edge God to be the author of this wonderful
"abric, and all those things in it which suc-
ceed one another in their turns, cannot possi-
bly doubt, that he has brought and continues
to bring them all about, according to that
most perfec^ pattern subsisting in his eternal
councils ; and those things that we call casual,
are all unalterably fixed and determined to
him. For, according to that of the philoso-
pher, " Where there is most wisdom, there
is least chance,"" and therefore, surely,
where there is infinite wisdom, there is no-
thing left to chance at all.
This maxim, concerning the eternal coun-
cils of the Supreme Sovereign of the world,
besides that it every where shines clearly in
the books of the sacred Scriptures, is also,
in itself, so evident and consistent with rea-
son, that we meet with it in almost all the
works of the philosophers, and often, also,
in those of the poets. Nor does it appear,
that they mean any thing else, at least, for
the most part, by the term fate : though you
may meet with some things in their works,
which, 1 own, sound a little harsh, and can
scarcely be sufficiently softened by any, even
the most favourable interpretation.
But whatever else may seem to be compre.
hended under the term fate, whether taken
in the mathematical or physical sense, as
some are pleased to distinguish it, must, at
last, of necessity be resolved into the appoint-
ment and good pleasure of the Supreme Go-
vernor of the world. If even the blundering
astrologers and fortune-tellers acknowledge
that the wise man has dominion over the
stars ; how much more evident is it, that all
these things, and all their power and in-
fluence, are subject and subservient to the de-
crees of the All-wise God ! Whence the
saying of the Hebrews, " There is no planet
to Israel."-}-
And according as all these things in the
heavens above and the earth beneath, are
daily regulated and directed by the Eternal
King ; in the same precise manner were they
all from eternity ordered and disposed by
him, " who worketh all things according to
the counsel of his own will,"J who is more
ancient than the sea and the mountains, or
even the heavens themselves.
These things we are warranted and safe
to believe ; but what perverseness, or rather
madness, is it to endeavour to break into the
sacred repositories of heaven, and pretend
to accommodate those secrets of the Divine
kingdom to the measures and methods of our
* Ubi plus est sapient ia;, ibi minus eat casus.
t Non f ise planetam Israeli.
t Qui cuncta exequatur sccundum consilium volun-
tis SUSE. 11
OF THE DECREES OF GOD.
LECT. X.
weak capacities ! To say the truth, I ac-
knowledge that I am astonished, and greatly
at a loss, when I hear learned men, and pro-
fessors of theology, talking presumptuously
about the order of the Divine decrees, and
when I read such things in their works.
Paul, considering this awful subject " as an
immense sea, was astonished at it, and view-
ing the vast abyss, started back, and cried
out with a loud voice, " O the depth !"• &c.
Nor is there much more sobriety or modera-
tion in the many notions that are entertained,
and the disputes that are commonly raised
about reconciling these divine decrees with
the liberty and free-will of man.
It is indeed true, that neither religion nor
right reason will suffer the actions and de-
signs of men, and consequently, even the
very motions of the will, to be exempted from
the empire of the counsel and good pleasure
of God. Even the books of the Heathens
are filled with most express testimonies of
the most absolute sovereignty of God, even
with regard to these. The sentiments of
Homer are well known ;f and with him
agrees the tragic poet Euripides. " O Ju-
piter," says he, " why are we, wretched mor-
tals, called wise ? For we depend entirely
upon thee, and we do whatever thou intend-
est we should. "J
And it would be easy to bring together a
vast collection of such sayings, but these are
sufficient for our present purpose.
They always seemed to me to act a very
ridiculous part,]) who contend, that the ef-
fect of the Divine decree is absolutely irre-
concileable with human liberty ; because the
natural and necessary liberty of a rational crea-
ture is to act or choose from a rational mo-
tive, or spontaneously, and of purpose. §
But who sees not, that, on the supposition
of the most absolute decree, this liberty is
not taken away, but rather established and
confirmed ? For the decree is, that such an
one shall make choice of, or do some parti-
cular thing freely. And whoever pretends to
deny, that whatever is done or chosen, whe-
ther good or indifferent, is so done or chosen,
or, at least, may be so, espouses an absur-
dity. But, in a word, the great difficulty
in all this dispute is that with regard to the
origin of evil. Some distinguish, and just-
ly, the substance of the action, as you call
it, or that which is physical in the action,
from the morality of it. This is of some
weight, but whether it takes away the whole
difficulty, I will not pretend to say. Believe
* 'O n«
&C. Chrys.
f Ttit; yett not vrin, &C.
± Ii ZIWTI fir.-ra. rou; T<*X.ouTai{ou;,
*{«fi» Xtyo-j-ri \ Sow y«« s|»jTn!/*'-
AjiUi£» TJ TOIOtWT «» TV TVJ-J;«»«!<
734.
\ A.«!r«.,-. pugnare.
f T« txtufitt 0ov\
077
me, young gentlemen, it is an ab)»ss, it is ae
abyss never to be perfectly sounded by any
plummet of human understanding. Should
any one say, " I am not to be blamed, but
Jove and Fate,"* he will not get off so, but
may be nonplussed by turning his own wit
against him. The servant of Zeno, the Stoic
philosopher, being caught in an act of theft,
either with a design to ridicule his master's
doctrine, or to avail himself of it, in order to
evade punishment, said, " It was my fate to
be a thief :" " and to be punished for it,"
said Zeno.-f Wherefore, if you will take my
advice, withdraw your minds from a curious
search into this mystery, and turn them direct-
ly to the study of piety, and a due reverence
to the awful majesty of God. Think and
speak of God and his secrets with fear and
trembling, but dispute very little about them ;
and, if you would not undo yourselves, beware
of disputing with him. If you transgress in
any thing, blame yourselves ; if you do any
good, or repent of evil, offer thanksgiving to
God. This is what I earnestly recommend
to you ; in this I acquiesce myself : and to
this, when much tossed and distressed with
doubt and difficulties, I had recourse, as to
a safe harbour. If any of you think proper,
he may apply to men of greater learning ;
but let him take care he meet not with such
as have more frowardness and presumption.
LECTURE XI.
Of the CmzATiow of the WOELD.
WHOEVEK looks upon this great system
of the universe, of which he himself is but
a very small part, with a little more than or.
dinary attention, unless his mind is become
quite brutish within him, it will, of necessi-
ty, put him upon considering whence this
beautiful frame of things proceeded, and
what was its first original ; or, in the words
of the poet, " From what principles all the
elements were formed, and how the various
parts of the world at first came together." J
Now, as we have already observed in our
dissertation concerning God, that the mind
rises directly from the consideration of this
visible world, to that of its invisible Creator ;
so from the contemplation of the first and
infinite Mind, it descends to this visible
fabric ; and, again, the contemplation of
this latter determines it to return with the
* O-JK fyv * <«« nm, «XX« Zft* x<u M«/««.
f In fatu mihi, inquit, fuit furari. Et caedi, inquit
Zeno.
± — Quibiuque exordia priniis
Omnia, et ipsa tener munai concreverit orbin.
VIR. EcL vt
2O
578
OF THE CREATION
greatest pleasure and satisfaction to that
eternai Fountain of Goodness and of every
thing that exists. Nor is this a vicious and
faulty circle, but the constant course of a
pious soul travelling, as it were, backwards
and forwards from earth to heaven, and from
heaven to earth ; a notion quite similar to
that of the angels ascending and descending
upon the ladder which Jacob saw in his vi-
sion. But this contemplation, by all means,
requires a pure and divine temper of mind,
according to the maxim of the philosopher :
" He that would see God and goodness,
must first be himself good, and like the
Deity."* And those who have the eyes of
their minds pure and bright, will sooner be
able to read in those objects that are exposed
to the outward eye, the great and evident
characters of his eternal power and Godhead.
We shall therefore now advance some
thoughts upon the creation, which was the
first and most stupendous of all the Divine
works ; and the rather, that some of the
philosophers, who were, to be sure, positive in
asserting the being of a God, did not acknow-
ledge him to be the author or creator of the
world. As for us, accordingto that of the Epis-
tle to the Hebrews, " by faith we understand
that the worlds were framed by the word of
God."-f- Of this we have a distinct history
in the first book of Moses, and of the Sacred
Scriptures, which we receive as divine. And
this same doctrine the prophets and apos-
tles, and, together with them, all the sacred
writers, frequently repeat in their sermons
and writings, as the great foundation of
faith, and of all true religion ; for which
reason, it ought to be diligently inculcated
upon the minds of all, even those of the
most ignorant, as far as they are able to con-
ceive and believe it ; though, to be sure, it
contains in it so many mysteries, that they
are sufficient not only to exercise the most
acute and learned understandings, but even
far exceed their capacities, and quite over-
power them : which the Jewish doctors seem
to have been so sensible, or, if I may use
the expression, so over sensible of, that they
admitted not their disciples to look into the
three first chapters of Genesis, till they arriv-
ed at the age required, in order to enter upon
the priestly office.
Although the faith of this doctrine imme-
diately depends upon the authority and tes-
timony of the€lupreme God of truth, for, as
St. Ambrose expresses it, " To whom should
I give greater credit concerning God, than
to God himself ?"$ it is however so agree-
able to reason, that if any one choose to enter
into the dispute, he will find the strongest
arguments presenting themselves in confir-
* TmifBtu 8« trfurct &uitir,s to* xtu xxXt; u fAiW.ti
StetrarBtu ®u> n »a.i xa.\n. 1'lot.
T n«mi ttvLitt XKrytrirBeci itv; a.im<x.; or,u,xTi 6e»u.
Chap. xi. 3.
t Cul enlm magis de Deo, quam Deo credam ?
LECT. XI.
mation of the faith of it ; but those on the
opposite side, if any such there be that deserve
the name, quite frivolous, and of no manner
of force. Tatian declared, that no argument
more effectually determined him to believe
the Scriptures, and embrace the Christian
faith, " than the consistent, intelligible
account they give of the creation of the
universe."*
Let any one that pleases, choose what
other opinion he will adopt upon this sub-
ject, or, as it is a matter of doubt and ob-
scurity, any of the other hypotheses he
thinks most feasible. Is he for the atoms
of Epicurus, dancing at random in an empty
space, and, after innumerable trials, throw-
ing themselves at last into the beautiful fabric
which we behold, and that merely by a kind
of lucky hit, or fortunate throw of the dice,
without any Amphion with his harp, to
charm them by his music, and lead them
into the building ? To say the truth, the
Greek philosopher had dreamed these things
very prettily, or, according to more probable
accounts, borrowed them from two other
blundering philosophers, Democritus and
Leucippus, though he used all possible art
to conceal it, that he might have to himself
the whole glory of this noble invention. But
whoever first invented or published this hy-
pothesis, how, I pray, will he persuade us
that things are actually so ? By what convinc-
ing arguments will he prove them ? Or what
credible witnesses will he produce to attest his
facts ? For it would "neither be modest nor
decent for him nor his followers to expect
implicit faith in a matter purely philosophi-
cal and physical, and at the same time, of
so great importance ; especially as it is their
common method smartly to ridicule and
superciliously to despise the rest of mankind,
as being, according to their opinion, too
credulous in matters of religion. But what
we have now said is more than enough upon
an hypothesis so silly, monstrous, and incon-
sistent.
After leaving the Epicureans, there is no
other noted shift, that I know of, remaining
for one that rejects the doctrine of the crea-
tion, but only that fiction of the Peripatetic
school, concerning the eternity of the world.
This, Aristotle is said to have borrowed from
a Pythagorean philosopher, named Ocellus
Lucanus, who, in that instance, seems to
have deserted not only the doctrine of his
master Pythagoras, but also that of all the
more ancient philosophers. It is true, two
or three others are named — Parmenio, Me-
lissus, &c., who are suspected to have been
of the same sentiments with Ocellus ; but
this is a matter of uncertainty, and therefore
to be left undetermined. And indeed, both
Aristotle and Ocellus seem to have done
this at random, or without proof, as they
* T« ivx«ToiAi;a rtt TIM TM T »Tiv Tuxritx. Tntian
OF THE WORLD.
579
have advanced no arguments in favour of
their new doctrine, that can be thought very
favourable, much less cogent and convincing.
It is surely impossible to demonstrate the
truth of their opinion a priori, nor did these
authors attempt it. They only endeavoured
to muster up some difficulties against the
production of the world in time, the great
weakness whereof any one, who is but toler-
ably acquainted with the Christian religion,
will easily perceive. Aristotle's arguments
rather make against some notions espoused
by the old philosophers, or rather forged by
himself, than against the doctrine of the crea-
tion. Nay, he himself sometimes speaks
with great diffidence of his own opinion on
this subject, particularly in his topics, where,
among other logical problems, he proposes
this as one, viz. " Whether the world ex-
isted from eternity or not."*
On the contrary, that the world has
evident marks of novelty, is acknowledged
by Lucretius in a remarkable passage of his
poems, which is very well known. " Be-
sides," says he, " if the earth and the
heavens were not originally created, but
existed from eternity, why did not earlier
poets describe the remarkable actions of
their times long before the Theban war and
the destruction of Troy ? But in my opi-
nion, the universe is not of old standing, the
world is but a late establishment, and it is
not long since it had its beginning ;"•}• and
more to that purpose.
If we duly consider the matter, and ac-
knowledge the course of the stars, not only
to be owing to a first mover, but also that
the whole fabric, with all the creatures there-
in, derive their existence from some Supreme
Mind, who is the only fountain of being ;
we must certainly conclude, that that self-
existent principle, or source of all beings, is
by all means eternal ; but there is no neces-
sity at all that we should suppose all other
things to be coeval with it; nay, if it is not ab-
solutely necessary, it is at least highly reason-
able and consistent to believe the contrary.
For, that this world, compounded of so
many and such heterogeneous parts, should
emanation, from that one first, purest, and
| most simple Nature, nobody, I imagine,
I could believe, or in the least suspect. Can
1 it possibly be thought, that mortality should
proceed from the Immortal, corruption from
the Incorruptible, and, what ought never to
be so much as mentioned, even worms, the
vilest animalcules, and most abject insects,
• from the best, most exalted, and most
| * Horiftt i Ktffu^>s aititef, n to-
I f Praeterea si nulla fuit genitalls origo
Terrae et Coeli, semnerque asterna fuere,
Cur supra bellum Thebanum et funera Trojae,
Non alias alii quoque res cecinere Hoette ?
Verum, ut opinor, habet novitatcm sumraa, re-
censque
Natura estmundi, neque pridem exordia cepit.
blessed Majesty ? But if he produced all
these things freely, merely out of his good
pleasure, and with the facility that constant,
ly attends almighty power ; how much more
consistent is it to believe that this was
done in time, than to imagine it was from
eternity !
It is a very difficult matter to argue at all
about that, the nature whereof our most en-
larged thoughts can never comprehend. And
though, among philosophers and divines, it
is disputed, whether such a production from
eternity is possible or not ; there is probably
something concealed in the nature of the
thing, though unknown to us, that might
suggest a demonstration of the impossibility
of this conceit ; for what is finite in bulk,
power, and every other respect, seems scarce-
ly capable of this infinity of duration ; and
divines generally place eternity among the
incommunicable attributes of God, as they
are called. It seems, to be sure, most agree-
able to reason, and, for aught we know, it is
absolutely necessary, that in all external
productions, by a free agent, the cause
should be, even in time, prior to the effect,
that is, that there must have been some
point of time wherein the being producing
did, but the thing produced did not,
exist. As to the eternal generation, which
we believe, it is within God himself, nor
does it constitute any thing without him, or
different from his nature and essence. More-
over, the external production of a created
being of a nature vastly different from the
agent that is supposed to produce it, and
to act freely in that production, implies, in
its formal conception, as the schools express
it, a translation from nonentity into being ;
whence it seems necessarily to follow, that
there must have been some point of time,
wherein that created being did not exist.
The notions of the Platonists concerning
pre-existent matter, do not concern the pre-
sent subject ; but, to be sure, they are as
idle and empty as the imaginary eternity of
the world in it's present form. As angels
were not produced out of matter, it is surely
surprising that those who assert their crea-
tion by God, should find difficulty in ac-
knowledging the production of other things
without pre-existent matter, or even of matter
itself. The celebrated maxim of the phi.
losophers, " That out of nothing, nothing is
produced," we receive, but in a different and
sounder sense, namely, that nothing can be
produced but either from pre-existent matter,
or by a productive power, in which it was
virtually contained. And, in this sense,
this famous maxim affords an invincible de-
monstration a posteriori, for the subject is
not capable of any other, to prove that there
must be some Being that existed before any
creature, and the Unity and Eternity of
that Being.
68C
OF THE CREATION.
The great Creator of the world, having
all things virtually in himself, needed neither
matter nor instruments in order to produce
them : " By the word of the Lord were the
heavens made, and all the host of them by
the breath of his mouth."* These were his
levers and tools, the word of the Lord, or
that effectual act of his will, which gave
being to all things.-j- " The mighty Lord
of all called directly to his holy, intelligent,
and creating word, Let there be a sun, and
a sun immediately appeared," &c.J Here
he spoke, and it was done, " the word and
the effect shewed themselves together." || If
you ask, what moved Infinite Goodness to
perform this great work ? I answer, that
very goodness you mention : for if, as they
say, it is the nature of goodness to be always
communicative ; that goodness, to be sure,
must be the most diffusive which is in itself
greatest, richest, and so very immense, that
it cannot be in the least diminished, much
less exhausted, by the greatest munificence.
Here there is no danger that that should
happen, which Cicero prudently cautions
against, in the case of human goodness,
namely, " That liberality should undo it-
self.'^ For that liberality must be immortal
and endless, the treasures whereof are in-
finite.
Nor is it to be doubted, but from this very
goodness, together with the immense power
and wisdom which shine forth so brightly in
the creation and all the creatures, an immense
weight of glory is reflected upon the Creator
himself, and the source of all these perfec-
tions ; nor must it be denied, that the mani-
fold wisdom of God proposed this end like-
wise. And there is nothing more certain
than that, from all these taken together, his
works, his benevolent and diffusive goodness,
his power and wisdom illustrated in the crea-
tion, and the glory that continually results
therefrom, from his wise counsels, and his
own most perfect nature, whence all these
things flow ; nothing is more certain, I say,
than that, from all these taken together, the
Divine Majesty enjoys an eternal and inex-
pressible delight and satisfaction : and thus
all things return to that vast and immense
ocean, from whence they at first took their
rise, according to the expression in the Pro-
verbs, " He hath made all things for him-
self :"^[ and the words of the song in the Re-
velation are most express to this purpose :
" Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory,
and honour, and power ; for thou hast creat-
ed all things, and for thy pleasure they are,
and were created."** Nor could it indeed
be otherwise, than that he who is the be-
* Psalm xxxiii. C. 1 Uavratxiif. _
t'O Si xatTat Kvpos IvSta; IQU'iffl T» lavrm a.y\u
ttxi tcffra xau ^utevfyixa Koyu Efrti r,\wi> *«( a.fJ.0.
rw fctveu. &c. Trismeg. '
I ' Au.ec \-!t,-,, O.UM ifyn-
§ Ne liberalitate pereat liberalitas.
t Prov. xvi. 4. •* Kcv. >v. 11.
ginning of all things, should also be the end
of all ; a wonderful beginning without a be-
ginning, and an end without an end. So
that, as the author of the Epistle to the He-
brews reasons concerning the oath of God,
" As he could swear by no greater, he swore
by Himself;" in like manner we may argue
here, as he could propose no greater end or
design, he proposed Himself. It was the
saying of Epicurus, " That the wise man
doss every thing for his own sake :"* we,
who are otherwise taught, should rather say,
that the wise man does nothing for his own
sake,' but all for that of God. But the most
exalted, to be sure, and the wisest of all
beings, because he is so, must of necessity
do all things for himself; yet, at the same
time, all his dispensations towards his crea-
tures are most bountiful and benevolent.
That the world was made directly and
immediately for man, is the doctrine, not
only of the Stoics, but also of the master of
the Peripatetic school : " We are," says he,
" in some respect, the end of all things."f
And in another place, " Nature has made
all things for the sake of man."$ Cicero
speaks to the same purpose ;|| and Lactan-
tius more fully than either.§ But Moses
gives the greatest light on this subject, not
only in his history of the creation, but also
in Deuteronomy, wherein he warns the
Israelites against worshipping of angels, for
this reason ; because, says he, " they were
created for the service of man :" and the sun,
in Hebrew, is called Shemesh, which signi-
fies a servant.
But O ! whither do our hearts stray ?
Ought we not to dwell upon this pleasant con.
templation, and even die in it ? I should
choose to be quite lost in it, and to be ren-
dered altogether insensible, and, as it were,
dead to those earthly trifles that make a
noise around us. O sweet reciprocation of
mutual delights ! " The Lord shall rejoice
in his works,"^[ says the Psalmist : and pre-
sently after, " My meditation of him shall
be sweet : I will be glad in the Lord."**
Let us look sometimes to the heavens, some-
times to the sea, and the earth, with the
animals and plants that are therein, and very
often to ourselves ; and in all these, and in
every thing else, but in ourselves particular-
ly, let HS contemplate God, the common Fa-
ther of all, and our most exalted Creator,
and let our contemplation excite our love.
They who have sent the ignorant and un-
learned to pictures and images, as books pro-
per for their instruction, have not acted very
wisely, nor has that expedient turned out
» Sapientem omnia facore sui causa.
t Sumus eiiim et nos quodammodo omnium fini*.
2 Phys tit. 23.
t Natura hominum gratia omnia fecit.
H De Legibus.
§ Sol inrequietis cursibus et spatiis inequalibusorbe*
conficit, &c. ad finem capitis. De Ira Dei, p. 13, 14.
^ Psalm civ. 31. •* Ibid. ver. 34,
OF THE WORLD.
happily or luckily for the advantage of tha
part of mankind ; but surely this great vo-
lume, or system, which is always open, and
exposed to the view of all, is admirably ad
apted to the instruction both of the vulga
and the wise ; so that Chrysostom had goo<
reason to call it, " The great book for th
learned and unlearned."" And the saying
of St. Basil is very much to the purpose
" From the beauty of those things which
are obvious to the eyes of all, we acknow
ledge that his inexpressible beauty excel
that of all the creatures ; and from the magni
tude of those sensible bodies that surrouiu
us, we conclude the infinite and immense
goodness of their Creator, whose plenitud
of power exceeds all thought, as well as ex-
pression."-f-
For this very end, it evidently appears, al
things were made, and we are the only visi-
ble beings that are capable of this contem-
plation : " The world, says St. Basil, is a
school, or seminary, very proper for the in-
struction of rational souls in the knowledge
of God."J We have also the angels, those
ministers of fire, to be spectators with us on
this theatre. But will any of us venture to
conjecture what they felt, and what admira-
tion seized them, when they beheld those new
kinds of creatures rising into being, and
those unexpected scenes, that were successive-
ly added to the preceding ones, on each oi
the six days of that first remarkable week,
" When belaid the foundations of the earth,
and placed the corner stone thereof; when the
morning stars sang together, and all the sons
of God shouted for joy ||?"
But O the stupidity of mankind i All
those stupendous objects are daily around us :
but because they are constantly exposed to
our view, they never affect our minds : so
natural is it for us to admire new, rather than
grand objects. Therefore the vast multitude
of stars which diversify the beauty of this
immense body, does not call the people toge-
ther ; but when any change happens therein,
the eyes of all are fixed upon the heavens.
" Nobody looks at the sun, but when he is
obscured ; nobody observes the moon, but
when she is eclipsed ; then nature seems to
be in danger, then vain superstition is alarm-
ed, and every one is afraid for himself."§
" But surely," says St. Bernard, concerning
the sun and moon, " these are great miracles,
Oo'l
t Ex TOV
liitrreui xeu fff
*iu.-iM TO u-T'.fx
).t»
TuuKTut ayjt'.&'yicufA-tix aT£/jov xau
frai-av IMMM> t» ru TArttsi rr,s ixurov Sutetfitt/l
uTf{EouK»T«. Alex. Horn. i.
$ O xcrpLtt •^•j'x.iut htyixut 8iSa<r««A.f«> xtu rr,;
&ioi>tu<ri<t( TaiXsi/Tr{<e». Ibid.
I Jfbxxxviii. 6, 7.
§ Sol spectatorem, nisi cum deficit nou habet;
nemo observat lunam nisi laborantem ; tune orbes con-
clamant, tune pro se quisque, superstitions vana, tre-
pidat. SEN.
very great to be sure ; but the first produc,
turn or creation of all things, is a vast mira-
cle, and makes it easy to believe all the rest •
so that, after it, nothing ought to excite our
u-nrwim. ***
wonder.
LECTURE XII.
Of the Creation of MAN.
THIS great theatre being built, besides
those spectators which had been but lately
placed in the higher seats, it pleased the
Supreme Creator and Lord to have another
company below, as it were in the area. These
he called forth into being by creation, and
man was introduced into this area, " to be a
spectator of him and of his works ; yet not
a spectator only, but also to be the interpre-
ter of them."f Nor yet was man placed
therein merely to be a spectator and an in-
terpreter ; but also, in a great measure, to be
possessor and lord thereof; or, as it were,
the Creator's '-'substitute,"^: in a spacious
and convenient house ready built, and stored
with all sorts of useful furniture.
Now, that man himself is a grand and
noble piece of workmanship, appears even
from this circumstance, that the most wise
operator, when he was going to create him,
thought fit to preface his design wiih these
words, " Let us make man. So that he was
created, not merely by a word of command
like the rest of the creatures, but by a con-
sultation of the blessed Trinity."j|
And, indeed, man is a wonderful composi-
:ion, the conjunction of heaven and earth ;
" The breath of God, and the dust of the
ground ;" the bond of union between the
visible and invisible world, and truly a
" world in miniature, a kind of mixed world,
nearly related to the other two."§ Nor is
ic only a lively epitome and representation
of the greater world, but also dignified with
the image of his great Creator. He made
the heavens and the earth, the sea and the
stars, and then all sorts of living creatures ;
>ut, in the words of the poet, " a more di-
vine creature, and more capable of elevated
sentiments, was yet wanting, and one that
* Hagna sunt hacc miracula, magna nimis ita eft ;
miraculum autem itnmensum est ipsa prima omnium
mxiuct io, seu creatio, quae miraculorum omnium adeo
acilem tidemfadt, ut post earn nihil sit minim,
t 'Ut S-txTtit n KVTOI xau rtn OLUTOU f;j-*»> xtu tv
not S-lnrrj otAAa xtu ttrfrfr.*- Arrian.
t TmMfMMMnt
| Faciamus hominem. Ut non solo jubcntis ser-
none sicut teliqua, sed consilio sanctse TrinitatU con-
itus sit. A mob.
§ tAixffXtrfMts, IJUXIK rif xnfffjus, ruyytnx T*» JIM
tf^Ltn- Greg. Nyss.
582
OF THE CREATION OF MAN.
could rule over the rest ; therefore man was
born, &c."*
The rest of the creatures, according (o the
observation of the schoolmen, which is not
amiss, had the impression of the Divine foot
stamped upon them, but not the image of
the Deity. These he created, and, reviewing
them, found them to be good, yet he did not
rest in them ; but, upon the creation of man,
the sabbath immediately followed. He made
man, and then rested, having a creature cap-
able of knowing that he was his Creator, one
that could worship him, and celebrate his
sabbath ; whose sins, if he should commit
any, he might forgive, and send, clothed with
human nature, his only-begotten Son, "in
whom he is absolutely well pleased," and
over whom, as the person that fulfilled his
good pleasure, he rejoices for ever, to redeem
his favourite creature. By the production of
man, the supreme Creator exhibited himself
in the most admirable light, and, at the same
time, had a creature capable of admiring and
loving him ; and, as St. Ambrose observes,
" one that was under obligation to love his
Creator the more ardently, the more wonder-
fully he perceived himself to be made."-f-
" And man," says the same author, " was
made a two-footed animal, that he might be,
as it were, one of the inhabitants of the air,
that he might aspire at high things, and fly
with the wings of sublime thoughts. "$
And, indeed, the structure of man is an
instance of wonderful art and ingenuity, whe-
ther you consider the symmetry of his whole
fabric taken together, or all his parts and
members separately. Gregory Nyssen speaks
very much to the purpose, when he says,
" The frame of man is awful, and hard to
be explained, and contains in it a lively re-
presentation of many of the hidden mysteries
of God. "|| How wonderful is even the
structure of his body, which, after all, is but
the earthen case of his soul ! Accordingly
it is in the Chaldaic language called Nidne,
which signifies a sheath. How far does the
workmanship exceed the materials ! And
how justly may we say, " What a glorious
creature, out of the meanest elements !"§
The Psalmist's mind seems to have dwelt
upon this meditation, till he was quite lost
in it : " How fearfully," says he, " and won-
derfully am I made !" And that celebrated
physician who studied nature with such un.
wearied application, in his book upon the
» Sanctius his animal, tnentisque capacius altse,
Deerat adhuc, et quod dominari in caetera posset,
Natus homo est Ovid. 1 Met.
t Et quidem tanto ardent ins amaret Conditorcm,
quanto mirabilius se ab eo conditum intelligeret.
•I-K' factus est homo bipes, ut sit unus quasi de vo-
latilibus, qui alta visu petat, etquodamremigio volilet
subhmum cogitationum.
I H TOI KvB;u-Tou xmT/nffxiur, 0«?!j« TIS xxi Ju«-s;^^y.
lurt; xni irsXA* KO.I arexjuf a. it tturti Ltutrtyfia, ®wu
IfMMinfMFM*
\ Oi'o,- Ejj it;.
LECT. XII.
structure of the human body, in which, after
all, there is nothing divine, often expresses
his admiration in these words : " Who is
worthy to praise the wisdom and power of
the Creator ?"* and many other such ex-
clamations. The Christian writers, how-
ever, are most full upon this subject, parti-
cularly St. Basil, St. Chrysostom, and others,
who carry their observations so far as the
nails, and hair, especially that on the eye-
lids. And Nyssen, on the words, " Let us
make man," has the following observation :
" Man is a grand and noble creature — How
can man be said to be any great matter, see-
ing he is a mortal creature, subject to a great
many passions ; from the time of birth, to
that of his old age, exposed to a vast many
evils and distresses, and of whom it is writ-
ten, ' Lord, what is man, that thou should-
est be mindful of him ?' &c. The history
we have of the production of man, delivered
me from this difficulty ; for we are told, that
God took some of the dust of the earth, and
out of it formed man : from these words, I
understood, that man was at once nothing,
and yet something very grand. "f He in.
tended to say, that the materials out of which
man was made, were low, and, as it were,
nothing ; but, if you consider the wonderful
workmanship, how great was the honour con.
ferred upon him ! The "earth did not spon-
taneously produce man as it did grasshop-
pers ; God did not commit the production
of this or that particular creature to his mi-
nistering powers ; no, the gracious Creator
took the earth in his own hand." J But be-
sides the noble frame of his body, though it
was made of the dust of the earth, that di-
vine breath, and, by means of it, the in-
fusion of a precious soul, mixes heaven and
earth together ; not, indeed, in the common
acceptation of that term, as if things so vast-
ly different, were promiscuously jumbled to-
gether, and the order of nature subverted ;
but only implying, that the two parts of the
human constitution are compounded with in-
expressible art, and joined in a close union.
As to the misery of the human race, and the
contemptible figure in which the life of man
appears, it is to be ascribed to another source,
very different from the earthly materials out
of which his body was made. That he was
created happy, beautiful, and honourable, he
owed to his great and good Creator ; but he
himself is the author of his own misery.
And hence it is, that though, with regard to
* Tii
i tvtac-
t Mtya a avfl;a.T«f *«i rifaeti- AX>.x -ru; fjLiya, i at-
Orat.'"ii.Ti:*
OF THE CREATION OF MAN.
583
his original and pure nature, we ought, for
the strongest reasons, to speak more honoura-
bly of him, than of any other part of the vi-
sible world ; yet, if we view him, " in his
present circumstances,"* no part of the crea-
tion, to be sure, deserves to be lamented in
more mournful strains.
But what words can express, what thought
can comprehend, the dignity and powers of
that heavenly soul that inhabits this earthly
body, and that divine image that is stamped
upon it ? The philosophers of all ages and
nations have been inquiring into the nature
of it, and have not yet found it out.
A great many have also amused them-
selves with too whimsical conjectures and
fancies, and endeavoured to discover, by very
different methods, a figure of the blessed
Trinity in the faculties of the soul. Nor
was Methodius satisfied with finding a re-
presentation of this mystery in the soul of
every particular man, but also imagined he
had discovered it in the three first persons of
the human race, namely, Adam, Eve, and
their first-born son, because in them he found
unbegotten, begotten, and proceeding, as al-
so unity of nature, and the origination of all
mankind. But not to insist upon these, it
is certain, the rational, or intellectual, and
immortal soul, so long as it retained its ori-
ginal purity, was adorned with the lively and
refulgent image of the Father of spirits, its
eternal Creator ; but afterwards, when it be-
came polluted and stained with sin, this
image, though not immediately quite ruined,
was, however, miserably obscured and defac-
ed. It is true, the beautiful and erect frame
of the human body, which gives it an advan-
tage over all other creatures, and some other
external graces that man possesses, may pos-
•ibly be some reflected rays of the Divine ex-
cellence ; but I should hardly call them the
image of God : as St. Ambrose well ob-
serves, " How can flesh, which is but earth,
be said to be made after the image of God,
in whom there is no earth at all ! And shall
we be said to be like God, because we are of
a higher rank than sheep and dogs ?"•)•
The dominion over the rest of the crea-
tures which man enjoys, is a kind of faint
shadow of the absolute and unlimited sway
of the supreme Majesty of heaven and earth.
I dare not, however, venture to say, it is that
image of which we are speaking ; but, as
those who draw the picture of a king, after
laying down the lineaments of the face and
body, use to add the purple robe, and other
ensigns of royalty, this dominion may cer-
tainly supply the place of these, with regard
to this image of God on man. But the live-
ly colours in which the image itself is drawn,
* O/of tu* SiftTti; trrir.
t Caro terra est: qui ilicatur ad imaginem Oei
facta, cum in Deo terra 11011 sit ? Et an to Dei similes
licctnnr, quia damulis atque ovibus celsi >res sumus?
are " Purity," says Nyssen, " absence of
evil, understanding, and sj>ccch."" For
even the eternal Son, and the wisdom of the
Father, seems to be intended by the philoso-
phers under the term of the creating mind ,-f.
and by the divine apostle John, he is called
the Word: to these we have very good
ground to add charity, as nothing can be
named that renders man likcr to God ;* for
" God is love, and the fountain of it."|| It
is true, charity is a valuable disposition of
the mind, but it also discovers itself in the
frame of the human body ; for man was
made quite defenceless, having neither horns,
claws, nor sting, but naked and harmless,
and, as it were, entirely formed for meekness,
peace, and charity.
The same author, speaking of the image
of God on man, expresses himself as follows :
." Wherefore, that you may be like God, ex-
ercise liberality and beneficence, study to be
innocent, avoid every crime, subdue all the
motions of sin — conquer all the beasts that
are within you. What, you will say, have
I beasts within me ? Yes, you have beasts,
and a vast number of them. And, that you
may not think I intend to insult you, is anger
an inconsiderable beast when it barks in your
heart ? What is deceit, when it lies hid in
a cunning mind ; is it not a fox ? Is not
the man who is furiously bent upon calumny,
a scorpion ? Is not the person who is eager-
ly set on resentment and revenge, a most
venomous viper ? What do you say of a
covetous man ; is he not a ravenous wolf ?
And is not the luxurious man, as the pro-
phet expresses it, a neighing horse ? Nay,
there is no wild beast but is found within us ;
and do you consider yourself as Lord and
Prince of the wild beasts, because you com-
mand those that are without, though you
never think of subduing, or setting bounds
to those that are within you ? What advan-
tage have you by your reason, which enable*
you to overcome lions, if, after all, you your-
self are overcome by anger ? To what pur.
pose do you rule over the birds, and catch
them with gins, if you yourself, with the in-
constancy of a bird, are hurried hither and
thither, and, sometimes flying high, are en-
snared by pride, sometimes brought down,
and caught by pleasure ? But as it is
shameful for him who rules over nations, to
be a slave at home, and for the man who sits
at the helm of the state, to be meanly sub-
jected to the beck of a contemptible harlot,
or even of an imperious wife ; will it not be,
in like manner, disgraceful for you who ex-
ercise dominion over the beasts that are with,
out you, to be subject to a great many, and
, *<ti *y*T« TTVW
i»84
OF PROVIDENCE.
T.ECT. XIII.
those of the worst sort, that roar and domi-
neer in your distempered mind ?"*
I shall, last of all, here subjoin, what some
of the ancients have observed, namely, that
the nature of the human soul, as it lies hid
out of sight, and to us quite unknown, bears
an evident resemblance to that of God, who
is himself unsearchable and past rinding
out.t
LECTUKU XIII.
Of Providence.
THE doctrines we have been handling,
are the great supports of faith, piety, and the
whole of religion ; wherefore it is most just,
that the zeal and care of the scholars should
concur with that of their teachers, to have
But when we have well considered all these1 tnem well secured in the mind and affections:
things, and the many other thoughts of this « yor a weak foundation," as the lawyers
kind, that may occur ; may we not cry out, observe, " is the ruin of the work."* There
how surprising and shocking is the madness are two principal pillars, and, as it were, the
and folly of mankind ; the far greater part Jachin and Boaz of the living temples of
folly
whereof, as if they had quite forgot their ori-
ginal and native dignity, disparage them,
selves so far as to pursue the meanest objects,
and shamefully plunge themselves in mud !
The words of Epictetus are divine, and
have a wonderful savour of piety : " You go
to the city of Olympia," says he, " to see
some of the works of Phidias ; but you have
no ambition to convene, in order to under-
stand and look at those works which may be
seen without travelling at all. Will you
never understand what you are, nor why you
were brought into the world ; nor, finally,
what that is which you have now an oppor-
tunity to view and contemplate ?"J And
in another place, " For if we were wise, what
have we else to do, both in public and in
private, but to praise and celebrate the Deity,
living temple
God, which the apostle to the Hebrews lays
down in these words : " He that cometh to
God," (under which expression is compre-
hended every devout affection, and every act
of religious worship,) " must believe that
GOD is, and that he is a rewarder of them
that diligently seek him."
" That God is," not only implies that he is
eternal and self-existent ; but also, that he
is, to all other beings, the spring and foun-
tain of what they are, and what they have,
and, consequently, that he is the wise and
powerful Creator of angels and men, and even
of the whole universe ; this is the first par-
ticular, " that God is." The second, " That
he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek
him," ascertains the providence and govern-
ment of God, exemplified in its most emi-
pnvttic, ui ituioie uic ^tnj, ment Oj uoa, exemplified in us most erm-
and to return our thanks to him ? Oughtjnent effectj witn regard to mankind. For
we not, while we are digging, ploughing, and
eating, to sing to God this hymn — Great is
the Lord, who has provided us with these
necessaries of life ?" &c.
As for you, young gentlemen, I would
have you to be sensible of the honour and
dignity of your original state, and to be deep-
ly impressed with the indignity and disgrace
of your nature, now fallen and vitiated, and
dwell particalarly upon the contemplation of
it. Suffer not the great honour and dignity
of the human race, which is to know the
eternal and invisible God, to acknowledge
him, love him, and worship him, to dec.'ty
and die away within you : this, alas ! is the
way of the far greater part of the world ; but
do you live in continual remembrance of your
original, and assert your claim to heaven, as
being originally from it, and soon to return
to it again.
,
a<, iix
rretftut
t%to t>
.
\irca ; Kai IAU^ICC TC/.^V r.-^/.ov tt
T KOC
, &C.
iim—fGu Si ci/8' xrofaf
^tctffatffBu.i XOLI xecTotv^ffett
Tirtit -rttitn evrl TIKI (tn, c
ri Ttutt trnt ta' i, Tr,t &!«>
cap. C.
rt «TI TI j-iy«
!T«£tiA»i^aTf j
providence extends further than this, and
comprehends in it a constant preservation
and support of all things visible and invisi-
ble, whether in heaven or earth, and the so-
vereign government and disposal of them.
Mechanics, when they have completed houses,
ships, and other works they have been en-
gaged in, leave them to take their fate in
the world, and, for the most part, give them-
selves no further trouble about the accidents
that may befal them. But the Supreme Ar-
chitect and wise Creator, never forsakes the
work of his hands, but keeps his arms con-
tinually about it, to preserve it ; sits at the
helm to rule and govern it ; is himself in
every part of it, and fills the whole with his
presence. So great a fabric could not possi-
bly stand, without some guardian and ruler ;
nor can this be any other than the Creator
himself: for who can pay a greater regard
to it, support it more effectually, or govern it
with greater wisdom, than he who made it ?
" Nothing can be more perfect than God,
therefore it is necessary the world should be
governed by him,"-|- says Cicero. And,
" they who take away Providence, though
they acknowledge GOD in words, in fact
deny him."$
* Debile cnim fundamentum fallit opus.
t Nihil Deo preitantius, ab eo igitur regi necesse
est
t Qui Providentiam negant, verbis licet Deum po-
mint, reipsa tollunt.
I.ECT. XII£.
If we believe that all things were produc-
ed out of nothing ; the consequence is, that
by the same powerful hand that created them,
they must be preserved and supported, to
keep them from falling back into their pri-
mitive nothing. It must be also owned, that,
by the same powerful hand, the regular mo-
tions of the stars, the contexture of the ele-
mentary world, the various kinds of creatures,
and the uninterrupted succession of their
generations, are continued and preserved.
Nor is Divine Providence to be confined
within the heavens, or in the lower world re-
strained to the care of generals, in opposition
to individuals ; although the Peripatetic
school inclined too much to this opinion,
and even the master of that school, Aristotle
himself, in his often quoted book, if it really
be his, De Mundo. For, that Providence
extends to all things in this lower globe,
from the highest to the lowest, and compre-
hends within its sphere particular, as well as
general things, the least as well as the great-
est, is confirmed not only by the doctrine of
the Sacred Scripture, but also by the testi-
mony of all sound philosophy.
Therefore, in maintaining the doctrine of
Providence, we affirm, 1st, That the Eternal
Mind has an absolute and perfect knowledge
of all things in general, and every single one
in particular ; nor does he see only those
that are actually present, as they appear in
their order upon the stage of the world ; but
at one view comprehends " all that are past,
as well as to come, as if they were all actu-
ally present before him."* This the ancient
philosopher Thales is said to have asserted
expressly, even with regard to the hidden
motions and most secret thoughts of the hu-
man mind ; for being asked, " If any one
that does evil, can conceal it from God," —
he answered, " No, not even his evil
thoughts."-^ " Nothing is left unprovid-
ed for," says St. Basil, '' nothing is over-
OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE.
5«5
looked by God; his watchful eye sees all wicked man."||
Psalmist's admiration, and made him cry
out with wonder and astonishment, " Such
knowledge is too wonderful for me ; it is
high, I cannot attain unto it !"•
2dly, He not only knows all things, and
takes notice of them, but he also rules and
governs them : « He hath done whatever he
pleased in the heavens and the earth," says
the Psalmist : and, " He worketh all
things," says the apostle, " according to the
counsel of his own will :" he does all things
according to his pleasure, but that pleasure
is influenced by his reason ; all things ab-
solutely, but yet all things with the greatest
justice, sanctity, and prudence.
He views and governs the actions of man
in a particular manner ; he hath given him
a law ; he hath proposed rewards, and an-
nexed punishments to enforce it, and engage
man's obedience. And having discovered,
as it were, an extraordinary concern about
him, when he made him, as we have observ-
ed upon the words, " Let us make man ;"
in like manner, he still continues to main-
tain an uncommon good-will towards him ;
and, so to speak, an anxious concern about
him : so that one of the ancients most just,
ly called man, " God's favourite creature."
And he spoke much to the purpose, who
said, " God is neither a lover of horses, nor
of birds, but of mankind, "-f- With regard to
the justice of the supreme government of
Providence, we meet with a great deal, even
in the ancient poets.
" O father Jove," says .flilschylus, " thou
reignest in heaven, thou takest notice of the
rash and wicked actions of gods and men.
Thy care even extends to the wild beasts ;
thou observes! the wrongs done them, and
securest their privileges. "$
" Though justice," says Euripides,
" comes late, it is still justice ; it lies hid,
as it were, in ambush, till it finds an oppor-
tunity to inflict due punishment upon the
things ; he is present every where, to give
salvation to all." J Epicletus has also some
very divine thoughts upon this subject. §
And here,- was any one to reflect serious-
ly on the vast number of affairs that are con-
" Dost thou think," says jEschylus, " to
get the better of the Divine knowledge, and
that justice stands at a distance from the ha.
man race ? She is near at hand, and sees
without being seen ; she knows who ought
stantly in agitation in one province, or eveni to be punished ; but when she will sudden-
in one city, the many political schemes andjty fal^upon the wicked, that thouknowest
projects, the multiplicity of law matters, the
still greater number of family affairs, and all
the particulars comprehended under so many
general heads, he would be amazed and over-
powered with the thoughts of a knowledge
so incomprehensively extensive. This was
the very thought which excited the divine
nou"§
" The weight of justice," says the sam«
* Psalm cxxxlx. 6.
t 'O ®iif Ml fi).mt;. Kj$t fi
; fi T.fv Tart;, Zia, «•«» U.H eu(atov xfxrtf,
2w y (fy crtvfa-flut xeei ttt6(a-in iftt;
Atufyx xaBtMTitc. 2« xai Sr'inr
"fSflf Ti XOLl SlXV U-'/.ii-
I AlXlt TCI tlXCL X{«"«-
ToE T SOVTdCt TflB T iff IT Q U.i\ X. * iTJfl T ECkTOC- t • 3tf'-... dTdty IJ£7J
t El 0s« rif A«S<!( «ax» T( 3-««<r<ra/» ; AXA' euJ- i T/»' <*«?» ^{»raw
MMMHMMt. § Aozu; TO. 3un \urrfra. tixvreu <ri-r*
rxortvii i xxaiu-r.Tcf c~l)x>.u,o!, *etri trotftrn, rxtfnZvr 'H 5* jj-j-ff trrn' »u^ »f.u*ni 8' o{«
ixxtr-u TT» rorjt'ix*. 'O» ^{r xoAa^fo T' «i$i> AXX* WK «<«•!) x rk
Ixxtr-u ni» TUTy'ia*.
Arr. lib i. rap. xii.
580
OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE.
LICT. XIII.
author, in another place, " falls upon some
quickly in the day time ; it lies in wait for
some sins till the twilight ; the longer it is
delayed, the severer the punishment ; ac-
cordingly, some are consigned to eternal
night."*
There are two difficulties, however, on
this head, which are not easily solved : 1st,
The success that commonly attends the
wicked in this world, and the evil to which
the good are exposed. On this subject, even
the philosophers, pleading the cause of God
which, if we take their word, they thought
a matter of no great difficulty, advanced a
great many things. Seneca tells us, " There
is a settled friendship, nay, a near relation
and similitude, between God and good men ;
he is even their father ; but, in their educa-
tion, he inures them to hardships : when
therefore you see them struggling with diffi-
culties, sweating, and employed in up-hill
work, while the wicked, on the other hand,
are in high spirits, and swim in pleasures ;
consider, that we are pleased with modesty
in our children, and forwardness in our
slaves : the former we keep under by severe
discipline, while we encourage impudence
in the latter. Be persuaded that God takes
the same method ; he does not pamper the
good man with delicious fare, but tries him ;
he accustoms him to hardships, and," which
is a wonderful expression in a Heathen,
" PREPARES HIM FOR HIMSELF. "-f- Ant
in another place, " Those luxurious persons
whom he seems to indulge and to spare, he
reserves for evils to come. For you are
mistaken, if you think any one excepted
the man who has been long spared, wil
at last have his portion of misery ; and he
that seems to have been dismissed, is only
delayed for a time,"$ and a vast deal more
to this purpose. The same sort of senti-
ments we meet with in Plutarch : " Goc
takes the same method," says he, " with
good men, that teachers do with their
scholars, when they exact more than ordinary
of those children of whom they have the
greatest hopes."§ And it is a noble thought
T«y«l<* THUS fj.lt It If Ml,
T«e o' iv fAira.tYf4.tp ffxorw
Touf Z' xx(atTt; tx.ii wE- '
t Inter bonos viros ac DEUM est amicitia, imo
necessitudo, et similitude ; imo ille eorum pater, sed
durius eos educat : cum itaque, eos videris laborare,
sudare, et arduum ascendere, males autem laicivire,
et voluptatibus fluere ; cogita, filiorum nos modestia
delectari, vernularum licentia : illosdisciplinatristiori
cpntineri, horum ali audaciam. Idem tibi de DEO
liqueat, bonum virum deliciis non innutrit, experitur,
•ndurat, et SIBI ILLUM PRJKPARAT.
$ Eos autem quibus indulgere videtur, quibus par-
cere, molles Venturis malis scrvat. Erratis enim si
quern judicatis cxceptum, veniet ad ilium diu felicem
sua portio. Et qui videtur dimissus esse, delatua est.
SEN. de Gubern. Mundi.
§ Hanc rationem DEUS sequitur in bonis viris, quam
in discipulis suis praeceptores, qui plus laboris ab iis
exigunt, in quibus certior spcs eit. Plut. Tlfet T«»
which we meet with in the same author :
' If he who transgresses in the morning,"
says he, " is punished in the evening, you
will not say in this case, justice is slow ;
but to God one, or even several ages, are but
as one day."* How near is this to St.
Peter's saying on the same subject !•}•
2dly, The other point upon this subject
which perplexes men fond of controversy,
and is perplexed by them, is how to recon-
cile human liberty with Divine Providence,
which we have taken notice of before. But
to both these difficulties, and to all others
that may occur upon the subject, I would
oppose the saying of St. Augustine : " Let
us grant that he can do some things which
we cannot understand.''^
What a melancholy thing would it be to
live in a world where anarchy reigned ! It
would certainly be a woeful situation to all ;
but more especially, to the best and most
inoffensive part of mankind. It would have
been no great privilege to have been born into
a world without God, and without Providence;
for if there was no Supreme Ruler of the
world, then undoubtedly the wickedness of
men would reign without any curb or impe-
diment, and the great and powerful would
unavoidably devour the weak and helpless,
" as the great fishes often eat up the small,
and the hawk makes havock among the
weaker birds. "§
It may be objected, that this frequently
happens even in the present world, as appears
from the prophecies of Habakkuk ;|| but the
prophet, immediately after, asserts, that
there is a Supreme Power which holds the
reins in the midst of these irregularities :
and though they are sometimes permitted,
yet there is a determinate time appointed for
setting all things to rights again, which the
just man expects, and, till it comes, lives by
faith. ^f Some passages of Ariston's Iambics
are admirable to this purpose.
" A. Be patient : for God uses to sup.
port worthy men, such as you are, in a re-
markable manner : and unless those who act
in a becoming manner, are to receive some
great reward, to what purpose is it, pray, to
cultivate piety any longer ? B. I wish that
it may be the case : but I too often see
those who conform themselves to the rules
of piety and virtue, oppressed by calamity ;
while those who mind nothing but what
they arc prompted to by private interest and
profit, thrive and flourish much better than
we. A. For the present it is so, indeed ;
but it becomes us to look a great way forward,
* Si qui mane peccavit, vespere puniatur, tardum
hoe npn dices, at DEO seculum, vel etiam plura secula.
iro die uno.
t 2 Pet. iii. 8.
$ Demus ilium aliquod facere, et nos non posse
intelligere.
§ Pisces ut ssepe miuutos
Magna comest, et avei enecat accipiter.
I Hab. ch. i ^ ibid, ch- H.
I/ECT. Xltr.
OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE.
587
and wait fill the world has completed its full
revolution ; for it is by no means true, that
this life is entirely under the dominion of
blind chance, or fortune, though many enter-
tain this wicked notion ; and the corrupt
part of mankind, from this consideration,
encourage themselves in immorality ; but
the virtues of the good will meet with a pro-
per reward, and the wicked will be punished
for their crimes ; for nothing happens with-
out the will of Heaven."*
What the poets sometimes advance con-
cerning a Supreme Fate which governs all
things, they often ascribe to God ; though
now and then they forget themselves, and
subject even the Supreme Being to their
Fate, as the Stoic philosophers did also :
but possibly they both had a sound meaning,
though it was couched under words that
sound a little harsh ; and this meaning now
and then breaks forth, particularly when
they celebrate God, for disposing all things,
by an eternal law, according to his own good
pleasure, and thereby make him the Supreme
and Universal Governor, subject to no other,
but, in some respects, to himself, or to his
decrees ; which, if you understand them in a
sound sense, is all that they can mean by their
ro<p!*Taroy, and their re a^STa/sXjjTaw. The
same judgment is to be passed with regard
to what we find said about Fortune ; for
either that word signifies nothing at all, or
you must understand by it the Supreme
Mind, freely disposing of all things ; and
this is very clearly attested by the following
excellent verses of Menander :
" Cease to improve your minds, for the mind
of man is nothing at all. The government
of all things is solely in the hands of fortune ;
whether this fortune be a mind, or the spirit
of God, or whatever else it is, it carries all
before it ; human prudence is but a vapour,
a mere trifle," &c.-f
We have also a great many proofs, that
in the opinion of the old poets, fate and for-
tune were precisely the same ; one instance
whereof we meet with in the following pas-
sage : " Fortune and Fate, Pericles, are the
givers of all that man enjoys." J
And, instead of the terms fate and fortune,
they sometimes used the word Necessity.
But all these were but other names, though
ill-chosen, for Providence. Euripides, hav-
ing said a great deal concerning fate or
necessity, at last resolves the whole into this :
" Jupiter executes, with thee, all he had
decreed before. "§
* A. &x(fd. 'Rtrfliit TXCI roiffiv Xfiii;
EiuOtt o 0ics. &c.
t HauTxrtii tout l-cnns, cvtiir y«{ •xKm
A»8'tM»<i{ vov; trritt «XA' a rr.s ru%it{,
EIT te-ri rouTt tmt/.tta S-int, nil rtuf,
6' r,
K.OLI •yxt ZiU
2,ut irn TMI-O
Eurip. in Alcesme.
And Homer's words are very remarkable i
" Jupiter," says he, " increases or diminish-
es the valour of men, as he thinks proper ;
for he is the most powerful of all.""
And in another place, " Jove, from
Olympus, distributes happiness to good
and bad men in general, and every one in
particular, as he himself thinks proper."-)-
Let us, therefore, look upon God as our
father, and venture to trust him with our
all ; let us ask and beg of him what we
want, and look for supplies from no other
quarter. This the indulgent father in Te-
rence desired, and much more our heavenly
Father. And surely every thing is better
conducted by a dutiful love and confidence,
than by an ignoble and servile fear ; and we
are very injurious both to him and ourselves,
when we think not, that all things, on his
part, are managed with the greatest goodness
and bounty. It is a true test of religion and
obedience, when, with honourable thoughts,
and a firm confidence in our Father, we ab-
solutely depend upon him, and serve him
from a principle of love. " Be not," says
Augustine, " a froward boy, in the house of
the best of fathers ; loving him when he is
fond of thee, and hating him when he gives
thee chastisement ; as if, in both cases, he
did not intend to provide an inheritance for
thee."$ If we suppose this Providence to
be the wisest and the best, it is necessary
that, in every instance, our wills should be
perfectly submissive to its designs ; other,
wise we prefer our own pleasure to the will
of heaven, which appears very unnatural.
St Augustine, on the expression upright in
heart, which we frequently meet with in the
Psalms, makes an excellent observation :
" If you cheerfully embrace," says he, " the
Divine will in some things, but in others
would rather prefer your own, you are croak-
ed in heart, and would not have your crook-
ed inclinations conformed to his upright in-
tentions, but, on the contrary, would bend
his upright will to yours."§
LECTURE XIV.
Of CHRIST the SAVIOUR.
IT is acknowledged that the publication
of the gospel is exceedingly agreeable, and
Horn. 1L xx.
\ T.<u; Jf avTft Mfifi •*£« CUt/,C4Ti«f a»ft;aiT«i«»
EcU'/.ai; ydi xctxtin*, iru; t9t>,ri<rtt izxiriu.
Horn. Oiiyss. vl.
$ Ne sis puer insulsus in domo optimi patris, amani
pattern, si tibi blanditur, el odio habens, quando te
flagellat, quasi non et blandiens et flagellans hseredi-
tatem pnret.
§ Si voluntatem divlnam in quibusdam amplecteris,
in aliis tuam malles, curvus es corde, et non viscur-
vam tuam voluntatem ad illius rectam dirigere, sed
Ulius rectam vis ad tuam curvam incurvare.
588
OF CHRIST 1HE SAVIOUR.
perfectly answers its original name, which
signifies Good Tidings. How much sweeter
is this joyful news, than the most ravishing
and delightful concerts of music ! Nay,
these are the best tidings that were ever
heard in any age of the world ! Oh, happy
shepherds, to whom this news was sent down
from heaven ! Ye, to be sure, though
watching in the fields, exposed to the
severe cold of the night, were in this more
happy than kings that slept at their ease in
gilded beds, that the wonderful nativity of
the Supreme King, begotten from eternity,
that nativity which brought salvation to the
whole world, was first communicated to you,
and just at the time it happened. " Be-
hold," says the angel, " I bring you glad
tidings of great joy, which shall be to all
people ; for unto you is born this day a
Saviour."* And immediately a great com-
pany of the heavenly host joined the angel,
and in your hearing sung, " Glory to God
in the highest."f And, indeed, in the
strictest truth, " A most extraordinary
child was sent down from the lofty heavens,"
Whence also his name was sent down along
with him : " His name shall be called Jesus ;
for he shall save his people from their sins."
" O sweet name of Jesus," says St. Bernard,
" honey in the mouth, melody in the ears,
and healing to the heart." This is the
Saviour, who, though we were so miserable,
and so justly miserable, yet would not suffer
us to perish quite. Nor did he only put
on our nature, but also our sins ; that is,
in a legal sense, our guilt being transferred
to him ; whence we not only read, " that
the word was made flesh ;"§ but also, " that
He was made sin for us, who knew no sin;"
and even, as we have it in the Epistle to the
Galatians, that he was made a curse,^ that
from him an eternal blessing and felicity
migh* be derived to us. The spotless Lamb
of God bore our sins, that were devolved
upon him ; by thus bearing them, he de-
stroyed them ; and by dying for them,
gained a complete victory over death. And
how wonderful is the gradation of the bless-
ings he procured for us ! He not only deli-
vered us from a prison and death, but pre-
sents us with a kingdom ; according to that
of the Psalmist: " Who redeemeth thee
from destruction ; who crowneth thee with
loving-kindness and tender mercies."*
J believe there is none so stupid or insen-
sible, as to deny that these tidings are very
agreeable and pleasing to the ear. But we
may, not without some reason, suspect of the
greatest part of nominal Christians, who com-
monly receive these truths with great ap-
• Luke ii. 10, 11. t Ibid. 14.
$ Jam nova progenies ccelo demittitur alto, &c.
VIBO. Eel.
| 2 Cor. v. 12.
John i. 14.
Gal. iii. '3.
*» Psalm ciii. 4.
plause, that it may be said to them, without
any injustice, " What is all this to you ?"
These privileges are truly great and muni.
fold, and indifferently directed to all to whom
they are preached, unless they reject them,
and shut the door against happiness offering
to come in : and this is not only the case of
a great part of mankind, but they also im-
pose upon themselves by false hopes, as if it
were enough to hear of these great blessings,
and dream themselves happy, because these
sounds had reached their ears. But O un-
happy men ! What will all these immense
riches signify to you, I must indeed say, if
you are not allowed to use them, but rather,
if you know not how to avail yourselves of
them ?
I therefore earnestly wish that these words
of the gospel were well fixed in your minds :
" He was in the world, and the world was
made by him, and the world knew him not.
He came unto his own, and his own received
him not ; but as many as received him, to
them gave he power to become the sons of
God."*
In him all the treasures of wisdom and
knowledge are hid, and without him there is
nothing but emptiness ; " because in him all
fulness doth dwell." But what advantage
can it be to us to hear these riches of our
Jesus spoken of at great length, and to ex-
cellent purpose, or even to speak of them our«
selves, if, all the while, we talk of them as a
good foreign to us, and in which we have no
concern, because our hearts are not yet open
to receive him ? What, pray, would the
most accurate description of the Fortu-
nate Islands, as they are called, or all the
wealth of the Indies, and the new world, with
its golden mines, signify to a poor man half
naked, struggling with all the rigours of cold
and hunger ? Should one, in these circum-
stances, I say, hear or read of these immense
treasures j or should any one describe them
to him in the most striking manner, either
by word of mouth, or with the advantage ot
an accurate pen ; can it be doubted, but this
empty display of riches, this phantom of
wealth and affluence, would make his sense
of want and misery the more intolerable ; un-
less k be supposed, that despair had already
reduced him to a state of insensibility ?
What further enhances the misery of those
who hear of this treasure, and think of it to
no purpose, is this, that there is none of them
who is not miserable by choice, "and a beg-
gar in the midst of the greatest wealth ;" and
not only miserable by choice, but obstinate-
ly so, from an invincible and distracted fond-
ness for the immediate causes of his misery :
" For who but a downright madman would
reject such golden offers ?"•)•
* John i. 10—12.
t Quis eniin nisi mentis inops oblation hoc respuat
aurum?
LECT. XV.
OF REGENERATION.
589
To give a brief and plain state of the
case : To those that sincerely and with all
their hearts receive him, Christ is all things ;
to those that receive him not, nothing.
For, how can any good, however suitable or
extensive, be actually enjoyed ; or, indeed,
any such enjoyment conceived, without some
kind of union between that good and the
person supposed to stand in need of it ? " Be-
hold," says the Psalmist, " all those that
are far from thee, shall perish." To be uni-
ted to God, is the great and the only good
of mankind ; *nd the only means of this
union is Jesus, in whatever sense you take
it : he ought truly to be called the union of
unions ; who, that he might with the great-
er consistency and the more closely unite our
souls to God, did not disdain to unite him-
self to a human body.
The great business of our life, therefore,
young gentlemen, is this acceptance of Christ,
and this inseparable union with him, which
we are now recommending. Thrice happy,
and more than thrice happy, are they who
are joined with him in this undivided union,
which no complaints, nor even the day of
death, can dissolve ; nay, the last day is
happy above all other days, for this very rea-
son, that it fully and finally completes this
union, and is so far from dissolving it, that
it renders it absolutely perfect and everlast-
ing.
But that it may be coeval with eternity,
and last for ever, it is absolutely necessary
that this union should have its beginning in |
this short and fleeting life. And, pray, what
hinders those of us that have not entered into '
this union before, to enter into it without de- '
lay — seeing the bountiful Jesus not only re-
jects none that come unto him, but also offers
himself to all that do not wilfully reject him, '
and standing at the door, earnestly begs to
be admitted ? O ! " why do not these ever-
lasting doors open, that the king of glory
may enter,"* and reign within us ? Nay, \
though he were to be sought in a far coun-
try, and with great labour, why should we
delay, and what unhappy chains detain us ?
Why do we not, after shaking them all off,
and even r/urselves, go as it were out of our-
selves, and seek him incessantly till we find
him ? Then rejoicing over him, say with
the heavenly spouse, " I held him, and would
not let him go ;" and further add, with the
same spouse, that blessed expression, " My '
beloved is mine, and I am his." And, in-
deed, this propriety is alway reciprocal. No
man truly receives Jesus, that does not, at
the same time, deliver up himself wholly to
him. Among all the advantages we pursue,
there is nothing comparable to this exchange.
Our gain is immense from both, not only
from the acceptance of him, but also from
surrendering ourselves to him : so long as
» Psalm xxitr
this is delayed, we are the most abject slaves .
when one has delivered himself up to Christ,
then and then only he is truly free, and be-
comes master of himself. Why should we
wander about to no purpose ? To him let
us turn our eyes, on him fix our thoughts,
that he, who is ours by the donation of the
Father, and his own free gift, may be ours
by a cheerful and joyous acceptance. As St.
Bernard says on these words of the prophet,
" ' To us a child is born, to us a son is given :'
Let us, therefore, make use of what is ours,"
saith he, "for our own advantage."* So then,
let him be ours by possession and wse,-f and
let us be his for ever, never forgetting how
dearly he has bought us.
LECTURE XV.
Of REGENERATION.
THE Platonists divide the world into two,
the sensible and intellectual world ; they im-
agine the one to be the type of the other, and
that sensible and spiritual things are stamp-
ed, as it were, with the same stamp or seal.
These sentiments are not unlike the notions
which the masters of the cabalistical doctrine
among the Jews held concerning God's
scphiroth and seal ; therewith, according to
them, all the worlds, and every thing in them,
are stamped and sealed ; and these are pro-
bably near akin to what Lord Bacon of Ver-
ulam calls his parallela signacula, and sym-
bolizantes schematismi. According to this
hypothesis, these parables and metaphors,
which are often taken from natural things to
illustrate such as are divine, will not be
similitudes taken entirely at pleasure ; but
are often, in a great measure, founded in na-
ture and the things themselves. Be this as
it may, that great change which happens in
the souls of men by a real and effectual con-
version to God, is illustrated in the Holy
Scriptures by several remarkable changes,
both natural and civil, particularly by a de-
liverance from chains, prison and slavery ;
by a transition from one kingdom to an-
other, and from darkness into light ; by a
restoration from death to life ; by a new
creation ; by a marriage ,• and by adoption
and regeneration. Concerning this great
change, as it is represented under the last of
these figures, we propose, with Divine assis-
tance, to offer a few thoughts from these
words of St. John's Gospel, which we have
already mentioned : " To as many as receiv-
ed him, to them gave he power, or the pri-
* I'uer natus est nobif, filius nobis datus est : Uta
mur, inquit, nostro in utilitatem nostram.
< Kr««-u
690
OF REGENERATION.
vilege, to become the sons of God."* To-
gether with these words of our Saviour in
another place of the same Gospel, " Except
a man be born again of water and of the
Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of
God."f
If, indeed, we consider the nature and the
original of man, it is not without reason that
he is called the son of God, according to that
passage which the apostle, in his short, but
most weighty Sermon to the Athenians,
quotes from the poet Aratus, and at the same
time approves of, "for we are all his off-
spring.":}: Our first parent, in St. Luke's
Gospel, is also expressly called the son of
God,§ not only because he was created im-
mediately by God, without any earthly father,
hut also on account of the Divine image that
was originally impressed upon the human
nature.
And this glorious title, which distinguish-
es him from all other corporeal beings, he
has in common with the angels, who are also
so called in several places in the book of
Job. || It is indeed true, to use the words
of St. Basil, " That every piece of work-
manship bears some mark or character of
the workman who made it :"^[ for I should
rather choose, in this case, to use the word
mark or character than likeness : but of
man alone it is said, " Let us make him
after our own image." And this distinction
is not improperly expressed by the school-
men, who say, as we have already observed,
that all the other works of God are stamped
with the print of his foot ; but only man, of
all the visible creation, honoured with the
image or likeness of his face. And, indeed,
on account of this image or resemblance it
is, that he is in dignity very nearly equal to
the angels, though made inferior to them.
Here it is to be observed, that this inferio-
rity is but little — " Who was made," saith
the Apostle, " a little lower than the
angels :"** so that, with regard to his body,
he is nearly related to the brute creatures,
and only a little superior to them with regard
to temperament, and the beautiful elegance
of his frame, but made out of the very same
materials, the same moist and soft clay,
taken from the bosom of their great and com-
mon mother ; whereas, to use the words of
the poet, " The soul is the breath of God,
which takes its rise from heaven, and is closely
united to his earthly body, like a light shut
up in a dark cavern."-f -f-
That divine part of the human composi-
tion derives its original from the Father of
* John i. 12.
§ Luke ii{. 38.' *'"' t<rfl''"
I Jobi. 6, and xxxviii. 7.
™ ILt&r -• v i-y
** Heb. ii. 9.
tf -VVM y »
ltit tvliv T
tif4,a 0-ou,
f Ibid. Hi. 3.
Naz. de Anima.
LECT. XV.
Spirits, in the same manner with those mi-
nisters of fire who are not confined to cor-
poreal vehicles ; concerning whom the oracle,
having acknowledged one Supreme and Di-
vine Majesty, immediately subjoins ; " and
we angels are but a small part of God."*
And with regard to this principle which
excels in man, which actually constitutes the
man, and on account of which he most truly
deserves that name, he is a noble and divine
animal ; and whatever some fanciful and
proud men may boast concerning their
families, " if we consider our original, and
that God was the author of the human kind,
none of Adam's race can be called ignoble. "-f
But if, on the other hand, we regard our
woeful fall, which was the consequence of
sin, we are all degenerate ; we have all fallen
from the highest honour into the greatest
disgrace, and the deepest gulph of all sorts
of misery ; we have given away our liberty
and greatest dignity, in exchange for the
most shameful and most deplorable bondage ;
instead of the sons of God, we are become the
slaves of Satan ; and if we want to know to
what family we belong, the Apostle will tell
us, " That we are children of wrath, and sons
of disobedience. ";{:
But, as the overflowing Fountain of good-
ness and bounty did not choose that so noble
a monument of his wisdom should be entire-
ly ruined by this dismal fall ; could any one
be more proper to raise it up again, or better
qualified to restore men to the dignity of the
sons of God, than his own eternal Son, who
is the most perfect and express image of the
Father ? Nor does this glorious person de-
cline the severe service : though he was the
son of his Father's love, the heir and lord
of the whole universe ; though he might be
called the delight of his most exalted Fa-
ther and of all blessed spirits, and now, with
the greatest justice, the darling of the human
kind ; yet he left his Father's bosom, and,
O wonderful condescension ! became the son
of man, that men might, anew, become the
sons of God : whence he is also called the
second Adam, because he recovered all that
was lost by the first.
That all who sincerely receive him, might
be again admitted into the embraces of the
Father, and no more be called the children
of wrath, he himself submitted to the punish-
ment due to our disobedience ; and, by bear-
ing it, removed our guilt, and pacified jus-
tice. He also went into the flames of divine
wrath to deliver us from them ; and by a
plentiful stream of his most precious blood,
quite extinguished them. He likewise took
effectual care that those who were now no
* M/«{»j Si ®iw fttfis Kpytfai fiftue-
T Si primordia nostra,
Auctoremque Deum species,
Nullus degener extat.
Boeth. de Cons. Phil. lib. iii. met. 6.
t'TiM «ru0u«f jMU«*Hi«t>w Eph. ii. 2, 3.
OF REGENERATION.
5U1
longer to be called children of wrath, should
also cease to be children of disobedience, by
pouring out upon them a plentiful effusion oi
his sanctifying spirit ; that their hearts being
thereby purged from all impure affections,
and the love of earthly things, they might,
under the influence of the same good Spirit,
cheerfully lead a life of sincere and universal
obedience. Now, it cannot be doubted that
those who are so actuated and conducted by
the Divine Spirit, are truly the son* of God.
Whence that spirit whereby they call Goa
their Father, and with confidence apply to
him as such, is called the spirit of adoption.
Moreover, this wonderful restoration is
often called adoption, not only to distinguish
it from the natural and incomparable dignity
rhich belongs to the only-begotten Son ;
but also because we by no means derive this
privilege from nature, but absolutely from
the free donation of the Father, through the
mediation of his only Son. We must not,
however, conclude from this, that this pri-
vilege has nothing more in it than an honour-
able title, or, as they call it, an external re-
lation ; for it is not only inseparably connect-
ed with a real and internal change, but with
a remarkable renovation, and as it were, a
transformation of all the faculties of the
»oul, nay, even of the whole man. You
accordingly find these words applied to this
purpose by the apostle Paul, in his epistle to
the Romans.* And, to conclude, it is with
a view to convince us, that, together with
the title of sons, the Spirit of God is given
to believers, and they are inwardly renewed
thereby, that we so often in scripture meet
with this regeneration which is the subject
of our present discourse.
If we consider the lives of men, we shall
be apt to imagine, that the generality of
mankind who live in the world under the
name of Christians, think it sufficient for
them to be called by this name, and dream
of nothing further. The common sort of
mankind hear with pleasure and delight of
free remission of sins, imputed righteousness,
of the dignity of the sons of God, and the
eternal inheritance annexed to that dignity ;
but when they are told, that repentance, a
new heart, and a new life, contempt of the
world and the pleasures of the flesh, fasting
land prayer, are absolutely necessary for a
Christian, " These are hard sayings ; who
rcan bear them ?" Though, at the same
Rime, it must be said, that they who do not
(regard these necessary duties will have no
share in the reward annexed to them.
I There are many things which distinguish
his divine adoption from that which obtains
Jimong men. 1st, The former is not an ex-
pedient to supply the want of children, which
jls commonly the case among men ; for God
.as his only -begotten Son, who is incompar-
* Romans xii. 2.
ably preferable to all the rest taken together,
who is immortal as his Father ; and though,
from a principle of wonderful humility, he
condescended to become mortal, and even to
die, yet ne rose again from the dead, and
liveth for ever. From him is derived
all that felicity which our heavenly Father
is pleased to confer upon us, out of his
mere grace and bounty, through the merits
and mediation of his dear Son. And is
there any one, on whom this felicity is be-
stowed, who will not freely acknowledge
himself to be quite unworthy of so great an
honour ?*
Yet such honour has the eternal and in-
comprehensible love of God condescended to
bestow on us, who are quite unworthy and
undeserving ; and in this also, the divine
adoption differs from that which is customary
among men, who generally choose the most
deserving they can meet with. But all those
whom God maketh choice of, are unworthy,
and some even are remarkably so. '2dly,
Men generally adopt but one a-piece, or at
most a few ; but divine adoption admits into
the heavenly family a most numerous host,
extending even unto myriads, that Jesus,
who is the head of the family, " may be
the first-bom among many brethren." And,
Sdly, they are all heirs ; whence it is said,
in another place, " That he might bring
many sons into glory." Nor is the inheri-
tance of any individual in the least diminish-
ed in consequence of so vast a multitude of
heirs ; for it is an inheritance in light, and
every one has the whole of it. Nor do the
children come into the possession of this in-
heritance by the death of the Father, but
every one, when he dies himself; for the
Father is immortal, and, according to the
apostle, the " only one that has immor-
tality ;" that is, in an absolute, primary, and
independent sense. Nay, he himself is the
eternal inheritance of his sons, and death
alone brings them into his presence, and
admits them into the full enjoyment of him.
4thly, Which I would have particularly
observed, this divine adoption is not a matter
of mere external honour, nor simply the be-
stowing of riches and an inheritance ; but
always attended with a leal internal change
of the man himself, to a being quite differ-
ent from what he was before ; which is also
recorded in Sacred Scripture, concerning
Saul, when he was anointed king : but this
human adoption can by no means perform.
This last, in the choice of a proper object,
justly pays regard to merit ; for though the
richest, and even the best of men, may clothe
richly the person whom he has thought pro-
per to adopt, and get him instructed in the
best principles and rules of conduct ; yet he
cannot effectually divest him of his innate
* Haud equidem tali me dignor honore.
Virg. .Eneid. k
592
OF REGENERATION.
LECT. XV.
dispositions, or those manners that have be-
come natural by custom : he cannot form
his mind to noble actions, or plant within
him the principles of fortitude and virtue.
But he that formed the heart of man, can
reform it at his pleasure : and this he ac-
tually does. Whenever he admits a person
into his royal family, he, at the same time,
endows him with royal and divine disposi-
tions : and therefore, if he honours any
person with his love, that person, thereby,
becomes deserving ; because, if he was not
so before, he makes him so ; he stamps his
own image upon him, in true and lively
colours ; and as he is holy himself, he
makes him holy likewise. Hence it is, tha
this heavenly adoption is no less properly
truly, or frequently, in the Sacred Scriptures
called regeneration.*
And though a Jew, and a celebrate(
doctor of the Jewish law, excepted agains
this doctrine, when it was proposed to him
under this name ; yet neither all of that na
tion, nor even the Gentile philosophers, wer
quite unacquainted with it. Rabbi Israe
calls the proselytes, new-born Jews. Anc
those passages which we frequently mee
with concerning the seed of Abraham, and
in the prophets, concerning the numerou
converts that were to be made to the church
are by their Rabbins, and the Chaldee para
phrasts, applied to this spiritual generation
which they believed would remarkably tak
place in the days of Messiah ; particularl
these two passages in the Psalms, in on
whereof the spiritual sons of the church ar
compared to the drops of the morning dew,-\
not only on account of its celestial purity,
Is not also the common custom that pre-
ailed among the ancients, of honouring
heir heroes, and those men who were re-
markable for exalted virtue, with the title of
ons of God, a plain allusion to this adop-
ion we have under our consideration ? And
what we have observed on the philosophers,
who acknowledged this moral or metaphori-
cal regeneration, is so very true, that it gave
handle to the fictions of those ancient here-
,cs, who evaded the whole doctrine and
?aith of the last resurrection, by putting this
igurative sense upon it. As to what the
Roman philosopher observes, that we may
be born in this manner at our own pleasure
or discretion, though, to be sure, it is not
without our consent, yet it does not altogether,
nor principally, depend upon us ; our sacred
and apostolic doctrine presents us with much
more just and pure notions on this subject,
when it teaches us, that " of his own will
he begat us by the word of truth."* This
is also represented in express terms in those
words of the gospel which immediately
follow the passage we mentioned at the be-
ginning of this discourse, " which were born,
not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor
of the will of men, but of God."-j- And,
with great propriety, there is immediately
added another generation still more wonder-
ful and mysterious, which is the principle
and source of this renovation of ours, " the
Word was made flesh." For to this end,
God was pleased to clothe himself with our
flesh, that he might put his Spirit within
us, whereby we, though carnal in conse-
quence of the corruption of our nature, might
but also with regard to the vast multitude
of them. Some of these doctors also observe,
that the number of proselytes would be so
great in the days of the Messiah, that the
church, omitting the ceremony of a circum-
cision, would receive them into its bosom,
and initiate them by ablution or baptism.
Concerning this renovation of the mind,
Pliilo Judaeus says expressly, " God, who
is unbegotten himself, and begets all things,
sows his seed, as it were, with his own
hand," &c.J Hierocles, and other Pytha
be 'born again into a new, spiritual, and
divine life. The Holy Ghost, by oversha-
dowing the Blessed Virgin, was, in a very
particular manner, the author of the human
nature of the Son of God, and to the virtue
and divine power of the same Spirit all the
adopted children of the Deity owe their new
birth. And as creation goes sometimes
under the name of generation, for instance,
in the words of Moses, " of the rock that
begat thee thou art unmindful, and hast
forgotten the God that formed thee ;"J
that book also of the Bible, which, from
gorean philosophers, treat also of this moral ( the first word of it, is called Bereshith, is
or mystical regeneration ; and under this ( by the Greeks named Genesis, and in the
very name Plutarch also makes mention of j oldest copy of the Septuagint, the Genera-
it, and defines it to be " the mortification | aon Of the World. And, in the beginning
of irrational and irregular appetites ;" and of it> Moses, speaking of the creation of the
Seneca's words relative to this subject are, j W0rld, says, " These are the generations
" The families of the arts and sciences are|Of the heaven and the earth."§ So, on the
the most noble ; choose into which of them ; other hand, this spiritual generation is called
you will be adopted ; for by this means we ^ creation, and with an additional epithet, the
may be born according to our own choice ; new creation ; it has also, for its author, the
nor will you be adopted into the name only, same powerful Spirit of God who of old sat
"
but also into the goods of the family. "§
t Psalm xlv. 16 ; ex. 3.
quam adscisci veliSj hac enim ratione, nobis ad arbi-
trium nostrum nasci licet, nee in nomen tantum adop-
, -
j TN/obiUssimseAsunt"ing*enioriim familiae, elige in
j taberis,
t
gi,n |Psa bona>
xxxii. 18.
John 5 ,3.
Gen. ii. 4.
OF REGENERATION.
I.ECT. XV.
upon the face of the waters as a bird upon its
young, or, as St. Basil renders it, hatched ;
so also in conversion the same Spirit rests
upon our unformed minds, that are lifeless,
unprepared, and nothing at all but emptiness
and obscurity, and out of this darkness
brings forth light, which was the first and
most beautiful ornament of the universe ; to
which the apostle also alludes in his second
epistle to the Corinthians.* The resurrec-
tion of the dead is also the peculiar work of
this enlivening Spirit of God ; and to him
the apostle Peter expressly ascribes the re-
surrection of Christ ; " for Christ also,"
says he, " hath once suffered for sins, the
just for the unjust, that he might bring us
to God, being put to death in the flesh,
but quickened by the Spirit."-f- And here,
again, there is a mutual exchange of names ;
for, in the gospel according to Matthew, the
resurrection of the dead is called regenera-
tion : " Verily I say unto you," says our
i Lord, " that ye which have followed me in
j the regeneration, when the Son of Man
shall sit on the throne of his glory, ye also
shall sit upon twelve thrones.":}: Here, in
•the regeneration must be connected with
; the following words, and by no means with
those that go before. And that this was a
i common method of speaking among the Jews,
appears from Josephus : " To those," says
[he, " whose fate it is to die for observing
[the law, God has given the privileges of
I being born again, and enjoying a more
[happy life, so that they are gainers by the
|exchange."§ In like manner Philo saith,
I" We shall hasten to the regeneration after
[death," &c.|| On the other hand, it is very
[well known, that this spiritual regeneration
• we are speaking of, is often in Scripture call
led the resurrection.
! Of this resurrection the word of the gospel
is, aS it were, the trumpet ; and, at the same
I time, the immortal seed of this new birth,
land therefore of immortality itself. Thus
lit is represented by the apostle Peter, ^[ and
I by the apostle James, who expressly tells us,
I" that he hath begot us with the word oi
••truth."** Now the enlivening virtue and
j plastic power of this word is derived from
I the Holy Ghost, who is the true spring and
• fountain of this new life. Nor are the most
lextended powers of the human mind, or the
•strength of its understanding, any more abl
to restore this life within it, even upon hear-
• ing the glad tidings of the gospel, than it was
capable of producing itself at first, or of being
the author of its own being, or after death o:~
I restoring itself to life.
I To this exalted dignity are admitted the
593
» 2 Cor. iv. 0. f 1 Peter iii. 18.
fife; •yiviffScu rt xuKtr xcu £,
{•si--/:;. Lib. i. cont. A pp.
1 Peter L 23.
Matt xix. 28.
o6a.>wiri i&uxti
u'.itu X*Cwp l» x'.°f-
, &C.
.
** James i. 18-
humble, the poor, the obscure, the ignorant
>arbarians, slaves, sinners, whom the world
ook upon as nothing, and hold in the great-
est contempt : of these nothing is required but
true and sincere faith ; no learning, nor noble
extract, nor any submission to the Mosaic
aw ; but upon every man, of whatever rank
or condition, who believes this word, he in
return bestows this dignity, " that they
should become the sons of God ;" that is,
that what Christ was by nature, they should
jecome by grace. Now, what is more sub-
ime and exalted than this honour, that those
who were formerly children of Satan, and
heirs of hell, should by faith alone be made
' the sons of God, brethren of Christ, and
oint heirs of the heavenly kingdom ?" If
the sacred fire of the Romans happened at
any time to be extinguished, it could only be
lighted again at the rays of the sun. The
life of souls, to be sure, is a sacred flame of
divine love ; this flame, as we are now born
into the froward race of fallen mankind, is,
alas ! but too truly and unhappily extin-
guished, and by no means to be kindled
again, but by the enlivening light and heat
of the Sun of Righteousness, who is most
auspiciously arisen upon us.
LECTURE XVI.
Of REGENERATION.
THE great corruption of mankind, and
their innate disposition to every sort of wick-
edness, even the doctors of the Heathen na-
tions, that is, their philosophers and theolo-
gers, and their poets also, were sensible of,
and acknowledged ; though they were quite
ignorant of the source from which this cala-
mity was derived. They all own, " That it
is natural to man to sin ;"* even your fa-
vourite philosopher, who prevails in the
schools, declares, that we are strongly inclin-
ed to vice ;-f and, speaking of the charms
and allurements of forbidden pleasures, he ob-
serves, that mankind by nature " is easily
caught in these snares.":}: The Roman phi-
losopher takes notice, " That the way to vice
is not only a descent, but a downright preci-
pice.'^
And the comic poet, " That mankind has
always been, in every respect, a deceitful,
subtle creature." ||
The satirist likewise observes, " That we
are all easily prevailed on to imitate things
» "Zvwfvroi IHO.I Tti; ottO(atr<iif to if^afra.iut.
t b VXHTK $o°tivf. Arist. Eth. ii.
J. f.uSr,'aTct'iitai ii*i tm mmruf
I All villa, non tantum pronum itcr, scd ct praxqn
II ASASJS,- utt ail *«T« »««* Sr, T{»T»»
llifvxit nvH'Uie;
OF REGENERATION.
I.ECT. XVI.
that are, in theii nature, wicked and dis-
graceful."*
And the Lyric poet, " That the human
race, bold to attempt the greatest dangers,
rushes with impetuosity upon forbidden
crimes." -j-
All the wise men among the Heathens ex-
erted their utmost to remedy this evil by pre-
cepts and institutions of philosophy, but to
very little purpose. They could not, by all
their arts and all their precepts, make others
better ; nay, with regard to most of them, we
may say, nor even themselves. But, " when
there was no wisdom in the earth," says
Lactantius, " that blessed doctor was sent
down from heaven, who is the way, the truth,
and the life,"$ and, by an almighty power,
effected what all others had attempted in vain.
It is not at all to be doubted, but the end
proposed by philosophy, was to renew and to
reform mankind, and to reduce the course of
their lives to a conformity with the precepts
of wisdom and virtue. Whence the common
definition given of philosophy is, " That it
is the rule of life, and the art or science of
living uprightly." To this purpose Seneca
says, " Philosophy is the law of living ho-
nestly and uprightly." True religion, to be
sure, has the same tendency : but it promotes
its end with much greater force and better
success ; because its principles are much more
exalted, its precepts and instructions are of
greater purity, and it is, besides, attended
with a divine power, whereby it makes its
way into the hearts of men, and purifies them
with the greatest force and efficacy ; and yet,
at the same time, with the most wonderful
pleasure and delight. And this is the re-
generation of which we are speaking, and
whereof we have already observed, that phi-
losophy acknowledged it, even under the
same name ; but that it effected it, we abso-
lutely deny. Now, it is evident from the
very name, that we are to understand by it
an inward change, and that a very remarka-
ble one. And since God is called the au-
thor and source of this change, whatever the
philosophers may have disputed, pro and con,
concerning the origin of moral virtue, we are
by no means to doubt, but this sacred and
divine change upon the heart of man is pro-
duced by an influence truly divine : and (his
was even Plato's opinion concerning virtue :
nor do I imagine you are unacquainted with it.
The same philosopher, and several others be-
sides him, expressly asserted, that virtue was a
kind of image or likeness of God, nay, that
it was the effect of inspiration, and partook,
in some respect, of a kind of divine nature.
* Deciles imitandis
Turpibus et pravis omnes sumus. Juv. Sat. xiv.
t Audax omnia perpeti,
Gens humana ruit per vetitum ncfas.
HOR. Od. lib. i.
$ Sed cum nulla esset sapientia in terris, mis.ius ost
roelo doctor ille, via, veritas, et vita.
" No mind can be rightly disposed without
divine influence," says Seneca :* and it was
the saying of the Pythagorean philosophers,
" That the end of man is to be made like to
God."-)- " This mind," says Trismegistus,
" is God in man, and therefore some of the
number of men are gods."$ And a little
further on, " In whatever souls the Mind
presides, it illustrates them with its own
brightness, opposing their immoralities and
mad inclinations : just as a learned physi-
cian inflicts pain upon the body of his pa-
tient, by burning and cutting it, in order to
recover it to health ; in the same manner,
the mind afflicts a voluptuous soul, that it
may pull up pleasure by the very roots ; for
all diseases of the soul proceed from it : im-
piety is the severest distemper of the soul."§
What wonder is it then, if these very
thoughts are expressed in the more divine
oracles of the Sacred Scriptures, more fully,
and with greater clearness ? And this con-
formation of the human mind to the Divine
nature, is commonly represented therein aa
the great business and the end of all religion.
What was more often inculcated upon the
ancient church of the Jews, than these words,
" Be ye holy, because I am holy ?" And
that the same ambition is recommended to
Christians, appears from the first sermon we
meet with in the gospel of our Lord and Sa-
viour, who came down to this earth, that he
might restore the Divine image upon men.
" Be merciful," says he, " as your Father,
who is in heaven, is merciful." And, ac-
cording to Luke, " Be perfect, as your Fa-
ther is perfect." And again, " Blessed are
the pure in heart." And, indeed, this is
the true beauty of the heart, and its true no-
bility ; but vice introduces degeneracy, and
deformity also.
Now, the more the mind disengages and
withdraws itself from matter that pollutes i/,l|
that is, from the body it inhabits, the purer
and more divine it constantly becomes ; be-
cause it attains to a greater resemblance with
the Father of spirits ; and, as the apostle
Peter expresses it, " partakes more fully of
the Divine nature." Hence it is, that the
apostle Paul warns us at so great length, and
in such strong terms, against living after
the flesh, as the very death of the soul, and
directly opposite to the renewed nature of a
Christian. He that is born of God, is enJ
dued with a greatness of soul, that makes him
easily despise, and consider as nothing, those
things wliich he prized at a very high rate
before : he considers heaven as his country ;
even while he lives as a stranger on this
» Nulla sine Deo bona mens est
t TsA»f ctrtlftuTm ifuiuiris &tia.
$ 'OuTOs o *ov; it fj.lv avOeuxei; ®lt; tfTm, bit *«M
Titlf TUV «»9»»ioi» Siei tin. Tris'.n. a-iji TOU ««»•»
«•{«? rxr.
§ 'Oral; ctv nn •^va.if, &C.
r.ECT. XVI.
OF REGENERATION.
earth, he aspires at the highest objects, and,: his second epistle to the Corinthians, de-
flying up towards heaven, with soaring wings, scribes these adopted "
looks down with contempt upon the earth.'
And yet, with all this sublimity of mind,
children of God by
their repentance ;" in the epistle to the Ro.
mans, they are characterised by their love ;f
.-" - ,. .j , -,j — »».j\,v* \ty tllCll 1VJV
he joins the deepest humility. But all the and in the passage of St. John's gospel
allurements of sin, " though they continue
to have the same appearance they had be-
fore,"-|- and possibly throw themselves in his
way, as the very same that were formerly dear
to him, he will reject with indignation, and
give them the same answer that St. Ambrose
tells us was given by a young convert to his
mistress, with whom he had formerly lived
in great familiarity ; " though you may be
the same, I am not the same I was before.";}:
Lactantius elegantly sets Forth the wonder-
ful power of religion in this aspect : " Give
me," says he, " a man that is passionate, a
slanderer, one that is headstrong and un-
manageable, with a very few of the words of
God, I will make him as quiet as a lamb.
Give me a covetous, avaricious, or close hand-
ed person, I will presently make him liberal,
and oblige him to give away his money in
large quantities with his own hands. Give
me one that is afraid of pain, or of death, he
shall, in a very little time, despise crosses,
flames, and even Phalaris's bull. Shew me
a lustful person, an adulterer, a complete de-
bauchee, you shall presently sse him sober,
chaste, and temperate."§ So great is the
power of divine wisdom, that, as soon as it
is infused into the human breast, it presently
expels folly, which is the source and foun-
tain of sin, and so changes the whole man,
so refines, and, as it were, renews him, that
you would not know him to be the same. It
is prophesied of the days of the Messiah,
" That the wolf and the lamb shall lie down
together, and the leopard feed with the kid."
The gospel has a wonderful effect in soft-
ening even the roughest dispositions, and
" there is none so wild, but he may be tam-
ed, if he will but patiently give attention to
this wholesome doctrine."||
Now, whether you call this renovation or
change of the mind repentance, or divine
love, it makes no difference ; for all these,
and indeed all the Christian graces in ge-
neral, are at bottom one and the same ; and,
taken together, constitute what we may call
the health and vigour of the mind, the term
j under which Aristo of Chios comprehended
all the moral virtues. The apostle Paul, in
Spernit humum fugiente penna.
t Etsi iUis fades, qiuo fuit ante, manet.
t At ego certe non sum ego.
| § Da mihi viruin qui sit iracundus, maledicus, ef-
frarnatus, paucissimis Dei verbis tarn placidum quam
ovem reddam. Da cupidum, avarum, tenacem, jam
tibi eum liberalem dabo, et jiecuniam suain propriis
jj>lenisque manibus largientum. Da timidum doloris
ac mortis; jam truces, el igncs, et Phalaridis taurum
rontemnet. Da libidinosum, adulterum, Ganeonem ;
iam sobrium, cnstum, continentem videbis.
j I Nemo adeo firus cst, ut non mitescere nossit,
Huic modo iloctrina- [.atientem commodct aurein.
have mentioned already, by their faith ;J
but whatever name it is conveyed by, " the
change itself is effected by the right-hand of
the Most High." As to the manner of this
divine operation, to raise many disputes about
it, and make many curious disquisitions with
regard to it, would be not only quite need-
less, but even absurd. Solomon, in his EC-
clesiastes, gives some grave admonitions with
regard to the secret processes of nature in
forming the foetus in the womb,§ to convince
us of our blindness with respect to the other
works of God : how much more hidden and
intricate, and even past our finding out, is
this regeneration, which is purely spiritual !
This is what our Saviour also teaches us,
when he compares this new birth to the un-
confined and unknown turnings and revolu.
tions of the wind ; a similitude which Solo-
mon had lightly touched before, in that pas-
sage of the Ecclesiastes to which we just now
alluded. O ! that we felt within ourselves
this blessed change, though we should re-
main ignorant with regard to the manner of
it ; since we are sufficiently apprised of one
thing, which it is greatly our interest fre-
quently and seriously to reflect upon : " Un-
less a man be born again, he cannot see the
kingdom of God." This spiritual progeny
is also compared to the dew, the generation
whereof is hidden and undiscovered. " Hath
the rain a father, and who hath begotten the
drops of the dew ?"|| Good men are also
called children of light,^ and light in the
Lord.** But it is from the Father of lights
himself, and from his only-begotten Son,
that these stars (for this title of the angels
may, without injustice, be applied to them)
derive all the light they enjoy. Now the
nature of light is very intricate, and the ema-
nation and manner of its production is yet
a secret even to the most sharp-sighted of
those who have made nature their study, and
no satisfactory theory of it has yet appear-
ed. But whatever it is, it was produced by
that first and powerful word of eternal, un-
created light, " Let there be light." By the
same powerful word of the Almighty Father,
there immediately springs up in the mind,
which was formerly quite involved in the
darkness of ignorance and error, a divine and
immortal light, which is the life of men, and,
in effect, the true regeneration. And because
this is the most effectual means of purifying
the soul, it is ascribed to the water, and to
the spirit. For this illumination of the Holy
Ghost is, indeed, the inward baptism of the
*2Cor. vi. 17, 18.
tJohn i. 12.
I Job xxxiii. 2fl. «J 1 Thcss.
\ Rom. viii. 2!l.
f Ecdes. xi. 4
5. «« F.ph. T. 8.
&9C
spirit ; but in the primitive times of Chris-
tianity, the baptism of water, on account of
the supposed concurrence of the Spirit, was
commonly called the illumination, and the
solemn seasons appointed for the celebration
of this mystery, the days of illumination or
light. And in the very same manner, the
baptism of the Holy Ghost, is by John the
Baptist called the baptism of fire, on ac-
count of the wonderful influence it has in
illuminating and purifying the soul. It is,
to be sure, a celestial fire quite invisible to
our eyes, and of such a nature, that the secret
communications of it to our souls cannot be
investigated ; but the sum of all is what
follows.
It seemed good to infinite Goodness and
Wisdom, to form a noble piece of coin out of
clay, and to stamp his own image upon it,
with this inscription, " The earthly son of
God :" this is what we call man. But alas !
how soon did this piece of coin fall back to
clay again, and thereby lost that true image,
and had the inscription shamefully blotted
out ! From that time, man, who was former-
ly a divine creature, and an angel clothed
with flesh, became entirely fleshly, and in
reality a brute : the soul, that noble and ce-
lestial inhabitant of his earthly body, became
now quite immersed in matter, and, as it
were, entirely converted into flesh, as if it
had drunk of the river Lethe ; or, like the
son of an illustrious family, carried away in
infancy to a far country, it is quite ignorant
of its present misery, or the liberty and feli-
city it has lost, becomes an abject slave, de-
graded to the vilest employments, which it
naturally and with pleasure performs ; be-
cause having lost all sense of its native ex-
wllency and dignity, and forgotten its hea-
venly original, it now relishes nothing but
earthly things, and, catching at present ad-
vantages, disregards eternal enjoyments, as
altogether unknown, or removed quite out of
sight. But if in any particular soul, either
from some spark of its native excellency still
remaining alive, or any indistinct report that
reaches it, some desires or emotions towards
the recovery of its native liberty should
arise ; yet, as it has no sufficient strength of
its own, nor finds any way open that can lead
to so great a blessing, these ineffectual wish-
es come to nothing, and the unhappy soul,
having lost its hopes, languishes in its chains,
and is at last quite stupified.
Philosophy, as we have already observed,
perceiving that man was born to higher views
than this world affords, attempted to raise
him from his present dejection, secure his
claim to heaven, and restore him to a con-
formity and likeness to God ; but in vain.
To redeem the sons of man, and restore them
to what they had lost, it was necessary that
the eternal Son of God should come down
from heaven. Our fall was easily brought
OF TRUE FELICITY, &c.
about, but our restoration was a work of the
greatest difficulty, and only to be performed
by the powerful hand of God ; there are but
few whom the exalted Father of Spirits has
loved, and Christ has raised up to heaven.
He is the source whence the Spirit of Goa
flows down to us ; he is the fountain of that
new life and sanctified nature, by which we
mount towards God, whereby we overcome
the world, and in consequence thereof, are
admitted into heaven. And happy, to be
sure, are those truly noble souls, whose fate
it is to be thus born again, to be admitted
into the choirs of the holy angels, and to be
clothed with those glorious robes that a»e
whiter than snow : they will follow the Lamb
wherever he goes, and he will lead them to
the crystal streams, and even to the fountain
of life itself.
But all those, that are to be the attendants
of the Lamb, in those blessed pastures which
are to be met with in his heavenly country,
must of necessity, even while they live in
this lower world, be followers of him in his
humble innocence and purity.
This spotless, holy, and pure Lamb of God,
is the guide and shepherd of a pure and holy
flock, a flock dear to God, and of distin-
guished beauty ; but the shepherd is still
more beautiful than they.* But the impure
goats and uncleanly hogs he beholds at a
distance, and leaves them to unclean spirits,
to be possessed by them at pleasure, and
afterwards to be precipitated into the depth
of misery ; unless it be determined to de-
liver some of them from that shocking form,
by a wonderful and divine change, and to
convert them into lambs, which is effected in
proper time, by the influence of the Holy
Ghost. Whence they are called the holy,
pure, and divine sons of God ; and all love
to earthly things, all carnal, impure aft'ec*
tions, are banished out of those hearts which
are, as it were, temples consecrated hence-
forth to God : " for the dwelling-place of the
Holy One must be holy also."4-
LECTURE XVII.
Of TRUE FELICITY and ETERNAL
PUNISHMENT.
O HOW insipid and unsatisfactory arc all
the pleasures of this earthly life, which we
now live, in respect of that incomparable and
altogether heavenly delight, which attends
the meditation and contemplation of divine
things ! When mortals are thus employed,
they eat the bread of angels ; and if there
* Formosi pecoris custos formotior
t'Ay/ow ya» iy»«v tfiv OJ*V;T»JJIO»
LECT. XVJl.
ETERNAL PUNISHMENT.
59?
are any who do not relish the sweetness of stantly devour it, and, as if it was s'ill empty
this food, it is because the divine part of their | and unsatisfied, would require something
composition is become brutish, and, forget- j more. And indeed, by this insatiable thirst
ting its original, lies buried in earth and [ the mind of man discovers its natural excell
mud. But though the soul is reduced to
these woeful circumstances, it is not yet so
entirely divested of itself, but it still retains
some faint remains of its heavenly original
and more exalted nature ; insomuch, that
it cannot acquiesce in, or be at all satisfied
with those fading enjoyments wherewith it is
surrounded, nor think itself happy or easy in
the greatest abundance of earthly comforts.
And though, possibly, it may not be fully
sensible of what it wants ; yet it perceives,
not without some pain and uneasiness, that
something is still wanting- to make it happy.
The truth is, besides that great and unknown
good, even those whom, by an abuse of that
term, we call most happy, are in want of a
great many things : for if we look narrowly
into the condition of those who are arrived
at the highest pitch of earthly splendour, we
shall certainly find some defect and imperfec-
tion in it, and be obliged to conclude with
the poet, " That since the earth began to be
inhabited by men, a full cup of good things,
without any mixture of evil, never fell to the
share of one man ; a graceful body is often
dishonoured by bad morals, and a mind of
uncommon beauty is sometimes joined to a
deformed body," &c.*
But what we call the chief and supreme
good must, of necessity, be complete, and en-
irely free from every defect ; and therefore,
'hat is not in every respect perfect, properly
peaking, is not perfect at all. The happi-
ness of rich and great men, which the poor
admire and respect, is only a gaudy and
plendid species of misery. What St. Ber-
nard says of the rash and ill-founded opinion
which the generality of mankind form of
he lives of the saints, from the imperfect
knowledge they have of them, " They see
ur crosses, but they see not our comforts,"f
may be here inverted : we see the advantages
if those men that are puffed up with riches
and honours, but we see not their troubles
and vexations. " I wish, I wish," says one,
' that those who desire riches, would con-
ult with rich men ; they would then be
ure to be of another opinion. "J
I will spend no more time in describing
>r lamenting the wretched state of mankind
on this earth, because it would answer no
>nd. For, suppose a more complete assem-
>lage of sublunary enjoyments, and a more
icrfect system of earthly felicity than ever
he sun beheld, the mind of man would in-
• Etenim mortal ibus ex quo
Tellus coepta coli, nunquam sincera bonorum
Sors ulli concessa viro ; quern corpus honestat
Dedecorant mores ; animus quern pulchrior omat
Corpus destituit, &c.
t Cruces nostra vident, unctiones non vident.
tUtinam, utinam qui divitias appetunt, cum di-
vitilms delibcrarent; certe vota mutarait.
lency and dignity ; for thus it proves, that
all things here below are insufficient to
satisfy, or make it happy ; and its capacity
is so great and extensive, that it cannot be
filled by the whole of this visible frame of
things. For, as St. Augustine observes,
" Thou hast made us, O Lord, for thyself,
and our hearts are restless till they return to
thee."» The mind that makes God its
refuge, after it has been much tossed to and
fro, and distressed in the world, enjoys per-
fect peace and absolute security ; and it is
the fate of those, and those only, who put
into this safe harbour, to have, what the
same St. Augustine calls a very great matter,
" The frailty of man, together with the se-
curity of God."-f-
Therefore, it is not without reason that
the royal Psalmist boasts not of his victories,
nor the splendour of his royal crown, but of
this one advantage ; " The Lord is the
portion of mine inheritance, and of my cup
thou maintainest the lot :" and on the
justest grounds he immediately adds, " The
lines have fallen to me in pleasant places ;
yea, I have a goodly heritage.":}: And if
is quite agreeable to reason, that what im
proves and completes any thing else, must be
itself more complete and perfect : so that the
mind of man can neither be made happy by
earthly enjoyments, which are all far inferior
to it in dignity, nor be so in itself. Nay,
neither can the angels, though of a more
perfect and sublime nature, confer felicity
either upon men or themselves ; but both
they and we have our happiness lodged in
that Eternal Mind which alone is its own
felicity : nor is it possible for us to find it
any where else, but in our union with that
original Wisdom and Goodness from which
we at first took our rise. Away then with
all the fictitious schemes of felicity proposed
by the philosophers, even those of them that
were most artfully contrived ; for even Aris-
totle's perfection of virtue, as well as what
the Stoics fancied concerning their wise men,
are mere fictions. They are nothing but
dreams and fancies, that ought to be banish-
ed to Utopia ; for what they describe is no
where to be found among men ; and, if it
were, it would not constitute complete felici-
ty. So far indeed they are to be commended,
that they call in the mind from external enjoy-
ments to itself ; but in this they are defec-
tive, that when the mind is returned to itself,
they carry it no further, nor direct it to as-
cend, as it were, above itself. They some-
* Fedsti nos, Domine, propter te, et inquietum
est cor nostrum donee in te redeat.
1 Habere fragilitatem hominis et securitatem Dei.
t Psalm xvi 5, 6.
OF TRUE FELICITY AND
».imes, it is true, drop such expressions as
these : " That there can be no good dispo-
sition of the mind without God ;"* and that,
in order to be happy, the soul must be raised
up to divine things : they also tell us, " That
the wise man loves God most of all, and for
this reason is the most happy man.-f But
these expressions they drop only at random,
and by the bye. O ! how much fuller and
clearer are the instructions of the teacher
sent down from heaven — " Blessed are the
pure in heart, for they shall see God !"J
But because the purest minds of the
saints, while they sojourn in this earth, still
retain some mixture of earthly dross, and
arise not to perfect purity ; therefore, they
cannot yet enjoy the full vision of God, nor,
consequently, that perfect happiness which
is inseparably connected with it. " For
they see only darkly, and through a glass ;"§
but with the advantage even of this obscure
light, they direct their steps, and go on
cheerful and unwearied : the long-wished-
for day will at length come, when they will
be admitted into the fullest light. That
day, which the unhappy men of this world
dread as their last, the sons of light wish
for, as their nativity into an endless life, and
embrace it with the greatest joy when it
comes. And this, indeed, seems to me to
be the strongest argument for another life,
and an immortality to come. For since no
complete or absolutely perfect happiness is
to be found in this life, it must certainly
follow, that either there is no such thing to
be had any where, or we must live again
somewhere, after our period here is out.
And, O ! what fools are we, and slow of
heart to believe, that think so rarely, and
with such coolness, of that blessed country ;
and that in this parched and thirsty land,
where even those who are so happy, have
only some foretastes of that supreme happi-
ness ; but when they remove hence, " They
shall be abundantly satisfied, (or, as the
word ought to be translated, intoxicated, ||)
O Lord, with the fatness of thy house, and
thou shalt make them drink of the river of
thy pleasures :"^f thus the divine Psalmist
expresses it ; and, to be sure, it is very sur-
prising, that the great and ancient philoso-
pher Pythagoras, in communicating his
thoughts upon the same subject, should hap.
pen to fall upon the very same figure : for he
used to promise those of his disciples that
conducted themselves right in this life, that
they should be continually drunk** in that
which is to come.
But what we have said formerly of the
felicity of the life to come, and all that we
* Nullam rosse esse sine Deo bonam mentem.
t A{« i ffnr,( &iai>.ifracTef z.a.1 tia T.VTO tvttU!M»-
i Matthew v. 3.
£ 1 C'or. xiii. 1-2.
$ 1'g.ilm xxxvi 0.
|| Inehriabuntur.
** MtOr.v «=«««.
LECT. XVII.
could say, were we to treat of the same sub-
ject over again, is but mere trifling. And
yet it is not disagreeable to hear children
speak, even with stammering, about the dig-
nity of their father, and of the riches and mag-
nificence of his inheritance. It is pleasant and
decent to speak of our native country, even
while we are sojourning in a foreign land : but,
for the present, I shall insist no longer on this
subject, but, turning the tables, lay before
you that dreadful punishment which stands
in opposition to this happiness, by present-
ing you only with a transient view pf the
future misery of the wicked ; and though
this is indeed a most unpleasant task, yet
nothing but our own carelessness and inat-
tention can render it useless.
Here, first of all, it is to be observed,
that as, in this life, there is no perfect feli-
city ; so neither here is there any complete
misery. Those whom we look upon as the
most wretched in this world, have their suf-
ferings chequered with many intervals of
ease ; but the misery to come admits of no
abatement ; it is all of a piece, without ad.
mining of any mixture of relief. They are
surely mad with their notions who here talk
of the advantages of being or existence, and
contend that it is more desirable " to be
miserable, than not to be at all."* For my
part, I am fully satisfied, they can never
persuade any man of the truth of their asser-
tion ; nor even believe it themselves, when
they think seriously on the subject. But
not to insist on this, it is certain, that all
kinds of delight are for ever banished from
that eternal and frightful prison. There is
there no light, no day, nor sleep, which is
the blessing of the night : and, indeed, no-
thing at all but places full of darkness, pre-
cipices, nakedness, and all kinds of horror ;
no entertainments, merry meetings, nor any
sensible pleasure : and to be for ever separa-
ted from all such, must be no small misery,
especially to those who used to pass their
time amidst such scenes of mirth and jollity,
and imagined themselves in some measure
; happy therein ; and that the remembrance
of this may distress them the more, they
will be continually haunted with a thought
that will cleave to them like a worm devour-
ing their bowels, and constantly keep them
in mind, that out of a distracted fondness
for these fleeting pleasures, which have now
flown away, without hope of returning, they
have lost those joys that are heavenly and
eternal, whereof they will have some know-
ledge ; but what kind of knowledge that
will be, and how far extended to enhance
their torments, is not ours to determine.
But who will attempt to express the excess
of their misery, or describe those streams of
brimstone, and eternal flames of Divine .
wrath ? Or rather, who will not iremble, I
* Miscnim csse quani ron esse.
OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION.
say, not in describing them, but even in
thinking of them, and be quite overpowered
with an idea so shocking ?
That I may no further attempt " to speak
things unutterable," and to derogate from
a grand subject by inadequate expres-
sions ;"-f- behold now, my dear youths, if
you believe these things, behold, I say, you
have now life and death laid before you ;
choose for yourselves. And that you may
not put off a matter of such importance, con-
sider these things, pray seriously, and say to
yourselves, concerning the vanishing shadows
of external things, How long will these en-
joyments last ? O ! how soon will they pass !
Even while I am speaking these words, while
I am thinking of them, they fly past me. Is
any one oppressed with calamities ? Let him
say cheerfully, with a remarkably good man,
" Lord, while I am here, kill me, burn me,
only spare me there."$ Is there any among
you of weak capacity, unhappy in expressing
himself, of an unfavourable aspect, or deform-
ed in body ? Let him say with himself, It
is a matter of small consequence : I shall
soon leave this habitation ; and, if I am but
good myself, be soon removed to the man-
sions of the blessed. Let these thoughts
prevent his being dejected in mind, or over-
come with too much sorrow. If any one is
distinguished by a good understanding, or
outward beauty, or riches, let him reflect,
and seriously consider, how soon all excel-
lencies of this kind will pass away, that he
may not be vain, or lifted up by the advan-
tages of fortune. Let it be the chief care and
study of you all, to avoid the works of dark-
ness, that so you may escape utter and eter-
nal darkness ; embrace with open and cheer-
pul hearts that divine light which hath shone
Torn heaven ; that, when yon are divested
of these bodies, you may be received into
the glorious mansions of that blessed and per-
fect light.
LECTURE XVIIL
Of the CHRISTIAX RELIGIOK, and that it
is the true Way to Happiness.
I CONFESS, young gentlemen, that when-
ever I think on the subject, I cannot help
wondering at the indolence and madness of
mankind ; for though we boast that, to order
our affairs with prudence and discretion, and
conduct our lives according to the principles
of reason, is the great privilege and ornament
our nature that distinguishes us from the
t Magna mod is tenuare parvis.
t Domine, hie ure, caede, modo ibi parcas.
599
brute creatures ; how few are there, that, in
this respect, act like men that propose to
themselves an end, and direct all their actions
to the attainment of it ! It is very certain,
that the greatest part of mankind, with a folly
something more than childish, go in quest of
painted butterflies, or commonly pursue the
birds with stones and clods ; and even those
who spin out their lives to the utmost extent
of old age, for the most part gain little by it,
but only this, that they may be called very
aged children,* being as ignorant as infants
why they came into the world, and what will
become of them when they leave it. Of all
questions, therefore, none can be more pro-
perly proposed to you, who are just upon the
verge of manhood, I mean entering upon a
rational life, than this, Whither are you
going ? What good have you in view ? To
what end do you purpose to live ? For hence,
possibly, your minds may be excited within
you to an earnest desire after that perfect and
supreme good, and you may not content
yourselves with cool speculations upon this
subject, as if it were a logical or philosophi-
cal problem, that falls in your way of course ;
but with that application that is proper in a
question concerning a matter of the greatest
moment, where it highly concerns us to be
well informed, and where the highest rewardi
and greatest dangers are proposed to our view
And, in this hope, I have often addressed
myself to you upon the subject of happiness,
or the supreme good, at different periods of
time, entertaining you in the intervals with
essays and suitable exhortations upon other
subjects ; yet so as to observe a kind of me-
thod, and keep up a connexion throughout
the whole. I have taken notice of the name
and general notion of happiness, the univer-
sal desires and wishes whereby men are ex.
cited to the pursuit of it, the no less univer-
sal, because natural, ignorance of mankind,
and their errors and mistakes in the search
of it. Whence it happens, that, as they all
run in the wrong road, the faster they ad-
vance, the further they depart from it ; and,
like those who ply the oars in a boat, they
look one way and move another. And though
it seemed almost unnecessary, as facts suffi-
ciently demonstrate the truth of our assertion,
yet by a brief recapitulation, wherein we took
notice only of the principal heads and classes
of things, we proved that happiness is by nc
means to be found in this earth, nor in any
earthly enjoyments whatsoever. And this is
no more than all, even fools as well as wise
men, are willing to own : they not only pro-
nounce one another unhappy, but, with re-
gard to this life, all of them in general, and
every one for himself in particular, acknow-
ledge that they are so ; and, in this respect,
experience fully justifies their belief : so that,
fiOO
OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION.
if there were no further prospect, I am apt to
believe all mankind would agree in that com-
mon saying, " That if mankind were appriz-
ed before-hand of the nature of this life, and
it were left to their own option, none would
accept of it."* As the immortality of the
soul has a near connexion with this subject,
and is a natural consequence from it, we,
therefore, in the next place, bestowed some
time in illustrating that doctrine. In the
last place, we advanced some thoughts upon
future happiness and misery, So far as is
consistent with the weakness of our capaci-
ties to comprehend things so little known,
and to express such as are, in a great mea-
sure, ineffable.
Having treated of these things according
to our measure, it remains that we now in-
quire about the way which directly leads into
that happy city, or to that happiness which
is reserved in the heavens. This is a great
and important article, comprehending the end
and design of our life, as well as the hopes
and comforts of it ; and is very proper to be
first treated of in a catechetical, or, indeed,
any methodical system of theology, as ap-
pears from reason and precedents : for by
this discussion we are immediately introduc-
ed into the whole doctrine of true religion.
Accordingly, the first question in the gene-
rally-received Catechism, which you have in
your hands, is, " What is your only conso-
lation in life and in death ?"-f- And the first
question of another Catechism, which not
long ago was used, particularly in this Univer-
sity, is, " What is the only way to true feli-
city ?"J For the salvation and happiness of
mankind, in subordination to the glory of
God, which is, to be sure, the supreme end
of all, is the peculiar and genuine scope of
theology ; and from it the definition of this
science seems to be most properly drawn :
nor do I imagine that any one is so weak as
from hence to conclude that it ought to be
called anthropology, rather than theology :
for though it not only treats of the happiness
of mankind, but also has this happiness, as
has been observed, for its chief end and de-
sign ; yet, with good reason, and on many
accounts, it has obtained this more sublime
title. It has God for its author, whom the
wisest of men would in vain attempt to find
out, but from the revelation he has made of
himself; every such attempt being as vain as
it would be to look for the sun in the night-
time, by the light of a candle ; for the for-
mer, like the latter, can only be seen by his
own light. God cannot be known but so
far as he reveals himself : which Sophocles
has also, admirably well expressed : " You
will never," says he, " understand those di-
* Vitam hanc, scicntibus daretur, neminem accep-
turum. — SEN KCA.
t Qua; est unica tua consolatio in vita et in morte ?
t Qua; est unica ad vcrain felicitatem via '
I.FCT. XVIII.
vine things which the gods have thought
proper to conceal, even though you should
ransack all nature."*
Nor has this sacred science God for its
author only, but also for its subject and its
ultimate end, because the knowledge of him,
and his worship, comprehends the whole of
religion ; the beatific vision of him includes
in it the whole of our happiness, and that
happiness is at last resolved into the divine
grace and bounty.
I should therefore choose to give this brief
and clear definition of theology, namely,
" That it is a divine doctrine, directing man
to real felicity, as his chief end, and conduct-
ing him to it by the way of true religion."
I call it a doctrine, because it is not con-
sidered here as a habit in the mind, but as a
summary of celestial truth. I call it a di-
vine doctrine} for all the reasons already
mentioned ; because, for instance, it is from
God ; he is the subject of it, and it all ter-
minates in him at last. I call it a doctrine
directing man, for I confine my notion of it
to that doctrine only which was sent down
from heaven for that purpose. What signify
then those distinctions, which are indeed
sounding, but quite tedious and foreign to
the purpose, that divide theology into arch-
etypal and ectypal, and again into the theo-
logy of the church militant, and that of the
church triumphant ? What they call arch-
etypal theology is very improperly so named ;
for it is that perfect knowledge which God
has of himself :-|- and the theology of the
church triumphant, ought rather to be called
the beatific vision of God. J The theology
in question, "is that day spring from on high,
which hath visited us, to give light to them
which sit in darkness, and in the shadow of
death, to guide our feet in the way ofpeace."||
That peace is true happiness, and the way of
peace is true religion : concerning which I
shall offer a few thoughts, and very briefly.
First of all, you are to observe, that man is
not a lawless creature, but capable of a law,
and actually subject to one. This expres-
sion conveys no harsh nor dishonourable idea;
nay, this subjection is so far from being a
burden, that it is the greatest honour. To
be capable of a law, is the mark and orna-
ment of an intelligent, rational soul, and that
which distinguishes it from the brutes ; it
evidently supposes a resemblance to God, and
an intercourse with heaven ; and to live ac-
tually under the direction of religion and the
law, is the great honour and ornament of hu-
man life, and what distinguishes it from the
irregular conduct of the brute creation. For,
as the poet expresses it, " One beast de-
vours another, fishes prey upon fishes, and
birds upon birds, because they are subject
itTOS &UU,
«f irxfxtH-
U Luke i. 7B. 79.
I.ECT. XVIII.
to no law : but mankind live under a just
law, which makes their condition far prefer.
able."*
The brute creatures devour one another
without blame, because they have no law ;
but, as Juvenal observes, " Men alone, of
all other earthly creatures, as they derive their
reason from the highest heaven, are venera-
ble for their understanding, which renders
them capable of inquiring into divine things,
and qualifies them for learning arts, and re-
ducing them to practice. "-f-
And hence it appears, that we were born
subjects to religion and an eternal law of na-
ture. For since our blessed Creator has
thought proper to endue us with a mind and
understanding, and powers sufficient for that
purpose, to be sure we are bound by an indis-
pensible law, to acknowledge the primary and
eternal Fountain of our own being, and of
all created things, to love him above all other
objects, and obey his commands without re-
serve or exception. So that in this very law
of nature is founded a strong obligation upon
ys to give due obedience to every divine posi-
tive institution, which he shall think proper
to add for securing the purposes of religion
and equity. Wherefore, when our first
parents, by eating the forbidden fruit, trans-
gressed the symbolical command, intended as
ft proof of their obedience, by that very act
they most basely broke the primary and great
law of nature, which is the foundation of re-
ligion, and of every other law whatever.
It is not my intention to speak here of our
redemption by the Messias, the only-begotten
Son of God the Creator ; it is sufficient for
our present purpose to observe, that our great
Redeemer has indeed delivered us from the
chains of sin and death, but has, by no means,
dissolved the bonds of religion, and the ever-
lasting law of nature : nay, these are, in many
respects, strengthened and confirmed by this
redemption ; and a cheerful submission to
them by virtue of his Spirit, which is poured
out upon us, is a great part of that royal li-
berty of the sons of God, which is secured to
us by his means, as, by imitating his exam-
ple, we arrive at the full possession of it,
which is reserved for us in the heavenly king-
dom. The way, therefore, to happiness, which
we are in search of, is true religion, and such,
in a very remarkable manner, is that of the
Christians.
On the truth and excellence of this reli-
gion you have a great many learned writers,
both ancient and modern. And, indeed, it
is exceeding plain, from its own internal evi-
OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION.
t
, xca eiiitei;
6'j S/ZTJ tfTt*
Venerabile soli
Sortiti iiigeniumdivinorumquecapaces,
Atque exercendis, capiendisque artibus apte
Sensum a coelesti demissum traximus arce.
Juv. Sat xv.
001
dence, that of all the forms of religion* that
ever the world saw, there is none more ex-
cellent than that of Christianity, which we
profess, wherein we glory, and in which we
think ourselves happy, amidst all the trou-
bles of the world : there is none that is more
certain and infallible with regard to its his-
tory, more sublime with regard to its mys-
teries, more pure and perfect in its precepts
or more venerable for the grave simplicity ol
its rites and worship ; nay, it appears evi-
dent, that this religion alone is in every re-
spect incomparably preferable to every other.
It remains, young Gentlemen — What do you
think I am going to say ? It remains, that
we become true Christiana. I repeat it
again, if we will be happy, Let its be Chris-
tians. You will say, Your wish is easily
satisfied, you have your desire, we are all
Christians already. I wish it may be so !
I will not, however, object to any particular
person upon this head ; but every one ot
you, by a short trial, wherein he will be both
witness and judge, may settle this important
point within himself. We are all Chris-
tians. Be it so. But are we poor in spirit ?
Are we humble, meek, and pure in heart ?
Do we pray without ceasing ? Have we
nailed all our carnal appetites and desires to
our Saviour's cross, " living no longer to our-
selves, but to him that died for us ?" This
is the true description of a Christian, by the
testimony of that gospel which we acknow-
ledge to be Christ's. And those who are en-
tire strangers to these dispositions of mind,
know not, to be sure, the way of peace.
These I earnestly entreat and beseech to
rouse themselves, and shake off their indo-
lence and sloth, lest, by indulging the vile
desires of the flesh, they lose their souls for
ever. But if there are any among you, and,
indeed, I believe there are some, who with
all their hearts aspire to these Christian vir-
tues, and, by their means, to that kingdom
which can never be shaken ;•}• " Be strong
in the Lord, have your loins girt about with
truth, and be sober, and hope to the end."
You will never repent of this holy warfare,
where the battle is so short, the victory so
certain, and your triumphal crown, and the
peace procured by this conflict, will last for
LECTURE XIX.
That Holiness is the only Happiness on
this Earth.
THE journey we are engaged in is in.
deed great, and the way up-hill ; but the
glorious prize which is set before us, is also
e«>j<r*H*S f Anltorn
GO 2
HOLINESS THE ONLY
great, and our great and valiant Captain,
who has long ago ascended up on high, sup-
plies us with strength. If our courage at
any time fails us, let us fix our eyes upon
him, and, according to the advice of the
Apostle, in his divine Epistle to the He-
brews, " Look unto Jesus," removing our
eyes from all inferior objects, that, being
carried up aloft, they may be fixed upon
him, which the oiiginal words seem to im-
port ;* then, being supported by the Spirit
of Christ, we shall overcome all those ob-
stacles in our way that seem most difficult
to our indolent and effeminate flesh. And
though the way from the earth towards hea-
ven is by no means easy, yet even the very
difficulty will give us pleasure, when our
hearts are thus eagerly engaged and power-
fully supported. Even difficulties and hard-
ships are attended with particular pleasure,
when they fall in the way of a courageous
mind ; and, as the poet expresses it, " Ser-
pents, thirst, and burning sands, are pleasing
to virtue. Patience delights in hardships ;
and honour, when it is dearly purchased, is
possessed with greater satisfaction. "•{-
If what we are told concerning that glori-
ous city obtain credit with us, we shall cheer-
fully travel towards it, nor shall we be at all
deterred by the difficulties that may be in the
way. But, however, as it is true, and more
suitable to the weakness of our minds, that
are rather apt to be affected with things pre-
sent and near, than such as are at a great
distance, we ought not to pass over in silence,
that the way to the happiness reserved in
heaven, which leads through this earth, is
•lot only agreeable, because of the blessed
prospect it opens and the glorious end to
which it conducts, but also for its own sake,
and on account of the innate pleasure to be
found in it, far preferable to any other way
of life that can be made choice of, or, indeed,
imagined. " Nay, that we may not, by low
expressions, J derogate from a matter so grand
and so conspicuous, that holiness and true
religion which leads directly to the highest
felicity, is itself the only happiness, as far
as it can be enjoyed on this earth. What-
ever naturally tends to the attainment of any
other advantage, participates, in some mea-
sure, of the nature of that advantage. Now,
this way to perfect felicity, if any thing can
be so, is a means that, in a very great mea-
sure, participates of the nature of its end ;§
nay, it is the beginning of that happiness, it
is also to be considered as a part of it, and
differs from it, in its completes! state, not so
much in kind as in degree : so that in Scrip-
ture it has the same names : as, for instance,
* E
Hob. xii. 2.
-Serpens, s'tis, ardor arenas
Dulcia virtuti. Gaudet patientia duris :
Lstius est quoties mafino sibi constat honestum.
LUCAN, lib. ix. 9.
Mixfokfyitt. § SuftfviTTctm
n that passage of the Evangelist, " This is
ife eternal, that they might know thee, the
only true God ;"* that is, not only the way
to eternal life, but also the beginning and
irst rudiments of it, seeing the same know-
ledge when completed, or the full beatific
vision of God, is eternal life in its fulness
and perfection. Nor does the divine apostle
make any distinction between these two ;
" Now," says he, " we see darkly through a
;lass, but then we shall see openly," or, as
he expresses it, " face to face. Now I know
in part, but then I shall know, as I also am
known. "-J- That celestial life is called an in-
heritance in light,% and the heirs of it, even
while they are sojourning in this earth, chil-
dren of liffht,§ and, expressly, light in the
Lord. " You were," says the apostle,
" sometime darkness, but now are ye light
in the Lord."|| They will be there per-
fectly holy, and without spot ; and even here
they are called holy, and, in some respect,
they are so. Hence it is, that those who
are really and truly good and pious, are in
Scripture often called blessed, though they
are not fully and perfectly so : " Blessed is
the man that feareth the Lord ;"^[ and,
" Blessed are the undefiled in the way."**
Even the philosophers give their testimony
to this truth, and their sentiments on the
subject are not altogether to be rejected : foi
they, almost unanimously, are agreed, that
felicity, so far as it can be enjoyed in this
life, consists solely, or at least principally,
in virtue : but as to their assertion, that this
virtue is perfect in a perfect life, it is rather
expressing what were to be wished than de-
scribing things as they are. They might
have said, with more truth and justice, that
it is imperfect in an imperfect life ; which,
no doubt, would have satisfied them, if they
had known that it was to be made perfect in
another place and another life that truly de-
serves the name, and will be complete and
perfect. In this, however, we heartily agree
with them, that virtue, or, as we rather
choose to express it, piety, which is absolute-
ly the sum and substance of all virtues and
all wisdom, is the only happiness of this life,
so far as it is capable thereof.
And if we seriously consider this subject
but a little, we shall find the saying of the
wise king Solomon, concerning this wisdom,
to be unexceptionably true. " Her ways are
ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are
peace."
Doth religion require any thing of us
more than that we live soberly, righteously,
and godly in this present world ? Now,
what, pray, can there be more pleasant or
peaceable than these ? Temperance is al-
ways at leisure, luxury always in a hurry ;
John xvii. 3. • \ 1 Cor. xiii. 12.
1 Thess. v. 5. II Eph. v. 8.
" Psal. cxax. 1.
Col. i. 18
Ps. cxii. I '
HAPPINESS ON EARTH.
tECT. XIX.
the latter weakens the body and pollutes the
soul; the former is the sanctity, purity, and
sound state of both. It is one of Epi-
curus' fixed maxims, " That life can never
be pleasant without virtue."* Vices seize
upon men with the violence and rage of
furies ; but the Christian virtues replenish
the breast which they inhabit, with a heaven-
ly peace and abundant joy, and thereby
render it like that of an angel. The slaves
of pleasure and carnal affections have within
them, even now, an earnest of future tor-
ments ; so that in this present life, we may
truly apply to them that expression in the
Revelation, " They that worship the beast
have no rest day nor night." " There is
perpetual peace with the humble," says the
most devout a Kempis ; " but the proud and
the covetous are never at rest."-f-
If we speak of charity, which is the root
and spring of justice, what a lasting pleasure
does it diffuse through the soul ! " Envy,"
as the saying is, " has no days of festivity :"J
it enjoys not even its own advantages, while
it is tormented with those it sees in the pos-
session of others ; but charity is happy not
only in its own enjoyments, but also in those
of others, even as if they were its own ; nay,
I is then most happy in the enjoyment of
ts own good things, when, by liberality, it
nakes them the property of others ; in short,
t is a godlike virtue. § There is nothing
more divine in man, " than to wish well to
men, and to do good to as many as one pos-
sibly can ;|| but piety, which worships God
with constant prayer, and celebrates him with
the highest praises, raises man above himself,
and gives him rank among the angels. And
contemplation, which is, indeed, the most
genuine and purest pleasure of the human
soul, and the very summit of felicity, is no
where so sublime and enriched as it will be
found to be in true religion, where it may
expatiate in a system of divine truths most
extensive, clear, and infallibly certain ; mys-
teries that are most profound, and hopes that
are the most exalted : and he that can render
these subjects familiar to his mind, even on
this earth, enjoys a life replete with heavenly
pleasure.
I might enlarge greatly on this subject,
and add a great many other considerations
to those I have already offered ; but I shall
only further observe, that that sweet virtue
of contentment, so effectual for quieting the
mind, which philosophy sought for in vain
religion alone has found ; and also discover-
ed, that it takes its rise from a firm confi-
dence in the almighty power of Divine Pro-
I t Jugis pax 'cum humil'i, supe'rbus autem et avarus
nunquam quiescunt.
i j Invidia festos dies non agit.
s OipnUyis bene velle, et quam plurimis possit bene-
I'acere
vidence. For what is there that can possi-
jly give uneasiness to him who commits
himself entirely to that Paternal Goodness
and Wisdom which he knows to be infinite,
and securely devolves the care of all his con-
cerns upon it ?
If any of you object, (what has been ob-
served before,) that we often see good men
meet with severe treatment, and also read
that " many are the afflictions of the just :"•
I answer, Do you not also read what imme-
diately follows, " But the Lord delivereth
him out of them all ?"-f- And it would be
madness to deny that this more than com-
pensates the other. But neither are the
wicked quite exempted from the misfortunes
and calamities of life ; and when they fall
upon them, they have nothing to support
them under such pressures, none to extricate
or deliver them.
But a true Christian, encouraged by a
good conscience, and depending upon the
Divine favour, bears with patience all these
evils, by the efforts of generous love and un-
shaken faith : they all seem light to him ;
he despises what he suffers, while he waits
with patience for the object of his hope ; and
indeed, what, either in life or in death, can
he be afraid of, " whose life is hid with
Christ in God ;" and of whom it may be
justly said, without exaggeration, " If the
world should be crushed, and broken to
pieces, he would be undaunted, even while
the ruins fell upon his head ?":£
LECTURE XX.
Of our HAPPINESS, particularly that it
lies in GOD, who alone can direct us to
the true Way of attaining to it ; that
this Way he has discovered in the Sa-
cred Scriptures, the divine Authority
whereof is atterted and illustrated.
THESE two expressions, " That there is
a beginning, and that there is also an end,"§
convey matters great in themselves, and
which ought to be considered as of vast im-
portance to us. It is absolutely necessary
that there should be seine one principal of ail
things ; and by an equal degree of neces-
sity, this principal must be, of all others*, the
greatest and the best. It is also necessary that
he who gave being to all things, must have
proposed to himself some end to be attained
by the production and disposal of them :
but, as the end of the best of all agents must
* Psalm cxxxiv. 19. t Ibid.
t Si fractus illabatur orbis
Impavidum ferient ruinae.
" ' -
604
OUR HAPPINESS IN GOD.
itself also be the highest and the best, this
end can be no other than himself. And the
reasoning of the author of the Epistle to the
Hebrews, concerning the oath of God, may
also be applied to this case : " As he had
no greater to swear by," says the apostle,
" he swore by himself." In like manner,
as he had no greater or better end to propose,
he proposed himself. " He hath made all
things for himself," says the author of the
book of Proverbs, " even the wicked for the
day of evil."* And the apostle Paul, in
his Epistle to the Romans, gives us a lively
description of that incomparable circle, the
most complete of all figures : " Of him, and
through him, and to him, are all things, to
whom be glory for ever. Amen."-|-
Now man, the ornament and master-piece
of all the visible creation, by extraordinary
art, and in a method peculiar to himself, re-
turns to his first original, and has his Creator
not only for the principal of his being, and of
his well-being, but also for his end. Thus, by
a wonderful instance of wisdom and goodness,
God has so connected his own glory with our
happiness, that we cannot properly intend or
desire the one, but the other must follow of
course, and our felicity is at last resolved into
his eternal glory. The other works of God
serve to promote his honour ; but man, by
rational knowledge and will, offers himself
and all that he has as a sacrifice to his Crea-
tor. From his knowledge of him, he is in-
duced to love him ; and in consequence of
his love, he attains at last to the enjoyment
of him. And it is the wisdom as well as
the happiness of man, to propose to himself,
as the scope and ultimate end of his life, thai
very thing which his exalted Creator had
proposed before.
But, that we may proceed gradually in
our speculations upon this subject, we must
first conclude, that there is a proper end in-
tended for man ; that this end is suited to
his nature, and perfectly accommodated to
all his wants and desires, that so the princi-
pal part of this wonderful fabric may not be
quite irregular, and labour under a manifest
imperfection.
Nor can there be a more important specu-
lation, nor one more worthy of man, than
that which concerns his own end, and that
good which is fully and perfectly suited to
his circumstances. Chance or fortune must,
of necessity, have a great influence in our
life, when we live at random ; we must,
therefore, if we be wise, or rather, that we
may be wise, propose to ourselves an end, to
which all our actions ought to have a refer-
ence, and by which, as a certain fixed star,
we are to direct our course. But it is sur-
prising to observe, how much all the wisest
men among the Heathens were, perplexed in
their inquiries after this end, and into how
* Prov. xvi. 4. f Rom \i. 30.
I.ECT. XX.
many different opinions they were divided
about it. Of this, however, we have spoken
at great length in another place.
Now, to be brief, it is necessary that this
jood or end should be " perfect, suitable, not
easily taken away, nay, such as we can by no
means be deprived of; and, finally, it must
consist of such things as have a particular
relation to the soul, and not of external en-
oyments."* Whence " slavish and brutal
pleasures,"-}- vain and perishing honours and
riches, which only serve to support and pro-
mote the former, are, in this inquiry, justly,
and without the least hesitation, hissed off
the stage by all sound philosophers ; who
with great unanimity acknowledge, that our
felicity consists solely, or at least principally,
in virtue. But your favourite philosopher
Aristotle, and the Peripatetics, who are his
followers, seem to doubt whether virtue alone
be sufficient for this purpose, and not to be
very consistent with themselves. The Stoics,
who proceeded with greater courage, and act-
ed more like men, affirmed, that virtue was
fully sufficient for this purpose, without the
helps and supplements required by the for-
mer. And that, while they bestowed such
high praises on virtue, they might not seem
tohave quite forgotten God, they not only said
that virtue was something divine, in which
they were joined by Aristotle, but also con-
cluded, that their wise man did all things,
" with a direct reference to God."$ It was
also a general maxim with the followers of
Plato, " That the end of man is to be, as
far as possible, made like unto God."§ And
Plato himself, in his second book of laws, and
in his Phaedo, asserts, that man's chief good
is the knowledge of the truth : yet, as this
knowledge is not perfect in the present life,
he is of opinion, that it can scarcely be said
of any man, that he is .happy here below ;
but there is hope to be entertained concerning
the dead, provided they are purified before
they leave the world. But there are two
things particularly with regard to this ques-
tion, which our religion and most precious
faith teaches with incomparably greater ful-
ness and evidence than all the schools and
books of the philosophers.
1. That our felicity is not to terminate in
ourselves, but in God. " Blessed is the man
that feareth the Lord ;"|| and, " The pure
in heart shall see God."^[ " To seek God,"
says St. Augustine, " is to desire happiness,
and to find him is that happiness."**
2. That our happiness is not confined
within the limits of this short life, nor does
it end with it : on the contrary, it is scarce
x Msr ctvetQogatf lif TCV @E0y*
§ TtAef ectll'UTcu efAciaurt; &tu XO.TO. 10 Sparer.
I Psalm cxii. I. ^ Matt. v. 8.
** Secutio Dei appetitus beatitatis, consecutioliea
titis
OUR HAPPINESS IN GOD. GO&
begun in this world ; but when the present from him ; for by no art whatever can the
ife comes to a period, then this happiness is waters be made to rise higher than their foun-
completed, and becomes eternal. Our life tain. It was therefore absolutely necessary
on this earth, therefore, is only so far happy, for the purpose I have mentioned, that some
as it has a ftsemblance to that we shall enjoy revelation concerning God should be made
- ^aven, and becomes, as it were, an ear- to mankind by himself; and, accordingly,
of it : that is, when it is employed in he did reveal himself to them from the be-
in hea
nest or it : mac is, wnen it is employed in ne did reveal himself to them from the be-
pure and sincere piety, in obedience to the ginning ; and these revelations the father of
will of God, and an ambition to promote lies mimicked by those delusions of his that
his glory, till we arrive at that happy state,
where our hunger and thirst shall be abun-
Jantly satisfied, and yet our appetites never
cloyed.
For it is evident, that man, in this life,
becomes so much the more perfect and happy,
in proportion as he has his mind and affec-
tions more thoroughly conformed to the pat-
tern of that most blessed and perfect life ;
and this is, indeed, the great ambition of a
true Christian ; this is his study, which lie
ceases not to pursue with ardour day and
night ; nor does he let so much as one day
pass, without copying some lines of that per-
fect pattern ; and the more he advances in
purity of mind, the greater progress he makes
in the knowledge and contemplation of divine
things.
But who will instruct us with regard to
the means of reaching this blessed mark ?
Who will shew us how we may attain this
conformity to God, and most effectually pro-
mote his honour and glory, so that at last we
may come to the enjoyment of him in that
endless life, and be for ever satisfied with the
beatific vision of him ? What faithful guide
shall we find to direct us in this way ? Surely
he himself must be our leader ; there is no
other besides him, that can answer our pur-
pose. It is he alone that acquaints us with
his own nature, as far as it is necessary for
us to know it ; and he alone that directs us
to the way wherein he chooses to be wor-
shipped. " God cannot be known but by
his own revelation of himself."* When he
is pleased to wrap himself up in a cloud, nei-
ther man in his original integrity, nay, nor
even the angels, can know or investigate his
nature or his intentions. We are, indeed,
acquainted in the sacred records, " That the
heavens declare the glory of God :"•(• and
this, to be sure, is very true in certain re-
spects, but they do by no means declare the
hidden mysteries of the Creator, nor his in-
tentions, and the manner of that worship and
service he requires from his reasonable crea-
tures. And therefore the Psalmist, having
begun the Psalm with the voice and declara-
tion of the heavens, immediately after men-
tions another light much clearer than the sun
himself, and a volume or book more perfect
than the language of all the spheres. No-
thing is more certain, than that the doctrine
which leads us to God, must take its rise
* Non potest Deus, nui de Deo, mtdligi.
t I'salir. xix. i.
lies mimicked by those delusions of his thai
were published by the Heathen oracles. The
Divine Wisdom, in revealing himself to man-
kind, has thought proper, at different periods
of time, to make use of different methods and
ways, or, according to that of the Epistle to
the Hebrews, " at sundry times, and in divers
manners ;"* but at last it seemed good to
him, that this sacred doctrine should be com-
mitted to writing, that with the greater cer-
tainty and purity it might be handed down
to succeeding ages. If we consider his ab-
solute power, it would certainly have been
as easy for him to have preserved this doc-
trine pure and entire, without committing it
to writing ; but, for the most part, he has
been pleased to make use of means naturally
suited and adapted to his purposes, and dis-
poses all things so as effectually to secure his
ends, yet in an easy, natural manner, suited
to our capacities and conceptions of things.
If any one would prove, that these books
which we receive as such, are in fact the re-
positories of this sacred and celestial doc-
trine, the most proper method he could take
would be, first, to shew, that the sacred his*
tory and doctrines contained in them are
true ; and then, from their own testimony,
conclude them divine.
For, the truth of our religion being once
well established, it is, to be sure, a most just
postulation, and such as ought not to be
denied to any sect of men, that, in this in-
stance, the testimony of the Christian church
should be believed, when it points out the
books wherein the sum and substance of that
religion r-.re originally and authentically de-
posited, -f-
The truth of the sacred history being once
granted, the divinity of the doctrine will na-
turally follow of course ; as the history men-
tions so many and so great miracles that
were wrought in confirmation of the doctrine ;
those particularly that were performed in
proof of the Old Testament, by Moses the
servant of God, by whose ministry the law
wag given to the Jews ; and those that were
wrought in confirmation of the New by Jesus
Christ, the only-begotten Son of God, and
author of the evangelic law ; as also those
that were wrought by his servants the Apos-
tles, and other Christians : and absolutely
to deny the force of all these, would be an
instance of impudence and obstinacy so great,
that the keenest enemies of the Christian
600
OUR HAPPINESS IN GOD.
name of old did not venture upon it. But
the Scriptures have two great evidences of
their divinity — their own internal character,
and that external testimony. There are two
things which principally prove their internal
character.
1. The incomparable sublimity and purity
of the doctrine they contain : for in vain will
you look for such profound mysteries, and
such pure and holy precepts, any where else.
2. The inimitable and evidently divine
majesty of the style, attended, at the same
time, with a surprising and wonderful sim-
plicity. Their voice is not the voice of man ;
but the whole of them, notwithstanding their
great extent, sounds something more grand
than can be expected from the mouths of
mortal men. Nor ought we to pass over that
divine efficacy which the Scriptures have,
not only to move the minds of men, but also,
by a divine operation," to change them into
something quite different from what they
were before ; according to that of Lac tan ti us,
" Give me a fierce, cruel, and passionate
man, with a few of the words of God I will
make him as meek as a lamb," &c.-f- And
the external testimony already mentioned
has, to be sure, as much weight as any thing
of that kind can possibly have. Who would
deny to the regular succession of the Catholic
church, the credit of a witness ? Who, on
the other hand, would claim the authority
of a judge and arbitrator ? It would be quite
silly to ascribe to the church a decisive power,
as if, when a book were first presented to it,
or brought out of any place, where it had
been long concealed, it could immediately
pronounce whether that book was divine
authority :>r not. The church is only a wit-
ness with regard to those books we acknow-
ledge, and its testimony extends no farther
than that they were received, in the first ages
of Christianity, as sacred and divinely in.
spired, and as such handed down from age
to age, to the church that now is ; and he
that would venture to discredit this testimony
must have a heart of lead, and a face of brass.
There is no occasion to dispute so fiercely
about the inward testimony of the Holy
Ghost : for I am persuaded that those who
talk about it, understand nothing more by
it, than that the Holy Spirit produces in the
hearts of men that faith whereby they cheer-
fully and sincerely receive these books, and
the doctrine contained in them, as divine ;
because such a faith either includes, in the j
very notion of it, or at least is necessarily
connected with, a religious frame of the
mind, and a sincere disposition to universal
obedience. " And he that believeth," as
the apostle John expresses it, " has this tes-
timony in himself,":}: though he cannot con-
* Wioujj-w u-tt».U:i>;<pta<rii:
\ Da inilii feruni, Sic., ut supra.
i 1 John v HI.
LECT. XX.
vey or transfer it to others. Now, to assert
the necessity of such an internal testimony,
is nothing more than to say, that whatever
evidence the Scripture may have in itself, or
from other considerations, yet the divine faith
of this truth must be from above. And he
that would deny this, would thereby plainly
discover, that he was an entire stranger to
that faith himself. " The Scripture," says
Thomas a Kempis, " must surely be believ-
ed and understood by means of the same
Spirit by whom it was at first delivered."*
And, as St. Augustine expresses it, "the
only effectual teacher is he who has his
chair in heaven, and yet instructs the hearts
of men on this earth."-)- The same Divine
Spirit plants faith in the mind, together with
the proper intelligence of divine things, and
daily augments and improves these disposi-
tions. This great gift of the Spirit is, there-
fore, to be sought by fervent and constant
prayer ; and the Son of God, who is truth
itself, has assured us, that his most bounti-
ful Father will give it to those that ask him.
Aristotle has told us, " That divine inspira-
tion is to be sought by sacrifices.''^ And it
is no less true, " that the faith and under-
standing of things revealed by divine inspu
ration are to be sought by prayer."§ Varro
tells us, that he wrote first of human, and
then of divine institutions, because societies
of men existed first, and the latter were in-
stituted by them. True religion, on the
contrary, instead of being instituted by any
city or society on earth, hath instituted a
city altogether heavenly and divine, and is
itself inspired by God, who is the giver of
eternal life to all that worship him in sin-
cerity. ||
It is truly surprising to observe, how dif-
ferently this religion was of old received
among men, and what different entertainment
it meets with even to this day, though the
doctrine has been always the same, though
it is still enforced by the same arguments,
and has the same difficulties and prejudice*
to struggle with. When the divine apostle
preached in the Areopagus at Athens, a
great many mocked and ridiculed him;
others said, " We will hear thee again of
this matter ; but certain men clave unto him
and believed."^[ And that we may not think
that this faith in those who believed was ow-
ing to their uncommon penetration or saga-
city on the one hand, or their weakness and
simplicity on the other, of the two mention-
ed in Scripture that believed on this occasion,
the one was a philosopher, and the other a
* F.odem certc spiritu, et credenda et mtelligenda
sacra scriptura, quo tradita est.
t Qui cathedram habet in ccelo, corcla docet in terris.
± To Sttitwir™ TXI; Suriuis £r,Tr,7Ut-
§ Tv,t TW .^ioTiEKO-rw THrnii xeu rvvurif tuz"1*
'l St. Ai!R. dc Civ. Dei, Mb vi. c. iii.
t Acts xvii. 32, 34.
LECT. XX.
OUR HAPPINESS IN GOD.
6<>7
woman. Now, though, without doubt, hu
man liberty is to be allowed its due weight
'n this matter ; yet we cannot help acknow-
ledging, that a certain influence or energy
seems to discover itself here.
The basis of religion is faith ; just appre-
hensions or right notions-^ of God, ac-
cording to Epictetus.- St. Ignatius says,
" Faith is the beginning of life, and love
the end of it :" J and the words of the Apos-
tle are, " He that cometh to God, must
believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder
of them that diligently seek him ;" so that
the giving of a law to man, and the enforcing
it with the motives of rewards and punish-
ments, is not inconsistent with the filial,
disinterested obedience of a rational creature,
even in a state of innocence.
All true and lively faith begets love ; and
thus that heavenly light is the vehicle of heat :
and as, by this means, true faith has a tenden-
cy to the practice of obedience, so all true obe-
dience depends upon faith, and flows from it;
but it also proceeds from love, because faith
first produces love, and then works by it.
All knowledge of mysteries is vain, and of no
value ; unless it have an influence upon the
affections, and thereby on the whole conduct
of life. The luminaries of heaven are placed
on high ; but they are so placed, that they
may shine and perform their periods for the
benefit of this earth. §
1. We must believe that God is : this
truth is written in capital letters on every
page of the sacred books of Scripture : for
all things that are therein delivered by
God, and concerning him, confirm this, and
take it for a primary and undoubted princi-
ple. But these sacred books acknowledge
another more universal evidence of this lead-
ing truth, and an evidence quite distinct
from theirs, to which they refer all, even the
most obstinate unbelievers, and those that
are entirely ignorant of this celestial doctrine,
for full conviction. ||
As it is quite plain, that the testimony of
the written word will have little or no influ-
ence upon men who have not received the
least tincture of divine faith ; should any per-
son, disputing with them, reason after this
manner, there is a God, because this is as-
serted in the Sacred Scriptures, and their
testimony must by all means be believed, j pure and perfect rule laid down in these
because they are the word of God ; an argu- divine books, which we profess to receive as
ment of this kind, to be sure, would have such. Let us, therefore, have constantly
no other effect, but to expose the person j fixed in our minds these words of the Psal-
that urged it to the ridicule of Atheists and mist, " Blessed are the undefiled in the way,
Unbelievers ; because it evidently begs the that walk in the way of the Lord. Thou
question, and runs into a vicious circle. He, hast commanded us to keep thy precepts
therefore, that would bring over such per- diligently. O ! that my ways were directed
sons to the faith, must reason after a quite to keep thy statutes. "$
different manner. But let him, on the other,
hand, who once accepts these books with * p^}1," "ix'' ?' 4, 5.
t Aft*. <>>;,- *ictn, 7!>c/5s a.ya.iii. § Gen.'i. I?.
I I loin. i. 20.
the submission due to their real dignity and
divine authenticity, receive light and edifica-
tion from them on every article of faith, and
with regard to the whole system of religion
in general : let him also, in congratulation
to their exalted Author, cry out, " With
thee, O Lord, is the fountain of life : and
in thy light we shall see light."" And let
him that desires to be not only a nominal
proficient in theology, but a real lover of
God, and also to be taught of him,f resolve
within himself, above all things, to make
this Sacred Volume his constant study, mix-
ing his reading with frequent and fervent
prayer ; for if these are omitted, his labour
will be altogether in vain, supposing him to
be ever so well versed, not only in these
books, but also to have all the advantages
that can be had from the knowledge of lan-
guages, and the assistance of commentators
and interpreters. Different men have differ-
ent views in reading this book ; as in the
same field the ox looks for grass, the hound
for a hare, and the stork for a lizard. Some,
fond of critical remarks, pick up nothing
but little stones and shells. Others run in
pursuit of sublime mysteries, giving them-
selves but very little trouble about the pre-
cepts and instructions that are clear and
evident ; and these plunge themselves into a
pit that has no bottom. But the genuine
disciples of this true wisdom are those who
make it their daily employment to purify
their hearts by the water of these fountains,
and reduce their whole lives to a conformity
with this heavenly doctrine. They desire
not to know these things only, that they may-
have the reputation of knowledge, or to be
distinguished in the world : but that their
souls may be healed, and their steps directed,
so that they may be led, through the paths
of righteousness, to the glorious felicity which
is set before them.
The sum of all is, that our felicity lies
solely and entirely in that blessed God who
is also the fountain and source of our being ;
that the only means of our union with him
is true religion ; and this again consists in
our entertaining just notions of God, wor-
shipping him acceptably, and endeavouring
after a constant and unwearied obedience to
all his commands, according to that most
C08
OF THE DIVINE AT TRIBUTES.
LECTURE XXI.
Of the DIVINE ATTRIBUTES.
OF all the maxims that are naturally writ-
ten on the heart of man, there is none more
certain or more universally known, than
THAT GOD is ; concerning which I gave a
dissertation some time ago. But of all the
secrets and hidden things of nature, which
have been the subject of human study and
inquiry, there is nothing, by a prodigious
odds, so difficult or unsearchable, as to know
WHAT HE is. The saying of St. Augus-
tine, concerning time, is well known in the
schools ; with how much greater truth might
it be said of Him who is more ancient than
time, " and who bid time flow from the be-
ginning !"* that he hath " made darkness
his hiding place, and amidst that darkness
dwells in light inaccessible,"-|- which, to our
eyes, is to be sure more dark than darkness
itself. " O the divine darkness !"J says
a great man ; and another most acutely,
" If you divide or cut asunder this darkness,
who will shine forth ?"§ When, therefore,
we are to speak of him, let us always call to
remembrance the admonition which bids us
" speak with reverence and fear."|| For what
can we say that is worthy of him, since man,
ivhen he speaks of God, is but a blind per-
son describing light ? Yet, blind as we are,
there is one thing we may, with great truth,
say of that glorious light, and let us frequent-
ly repeat it : O when will that blessed day
shine forth, which shall deliver the soul from
those thick integuments of flesh, that, like
scales on the eye, obstruct its sight, and
shall introduce it into a full and open view
of that primitive, eternal light ? Perhaps
the properest answer we could give to the
question, What is God ? would be to ob-
serve a most profound silence : or, if we
should think proper to answer any thing, it
ought to be something next to this absolute
silence ; namely, GOD is ; which gives us a
higher and better idea of him, than any
thing we can either express or conceive.
Theological writers mention three me-
thods, whereby men come to some kind of
knowledge of God themselves, and commu-
nicate that knowledge to others, namely, the
way of negation, the way of causation, and
the way of eminence i yet the very terms
that are used to express these ways, shew
what a faint knowledge of the invisible Being
is to be attained by them ; so that the two
lint may be justly reduced to the first, and
all our knowledge of this kind called nega-
tive. For, to pretend to give any explana-
* Qui tempus ab scvo
Ire jubet. BOETH. de Cons. Phil. lib. lii. met. 9.
t Psalm xviii. 11. £ ii To &uo* ffxtrtf.
§ A» TO rzoTOs Tt/J-ffl, tn cttcurifaiTTiTtu ;
II Att/.c. fLit It toZlfl-
LECT. XXI.
tion of the Divine essence, as distinct from
what we call his attributes, would be a re-
finement so absurd, that, under the appear-
ance of more 'accurate knowledge, it would
betray our ignorance the more : and so un-
accountable would it be to attempt any such
thing with regard to the unsearchable ma-
jesty of God, that, possibly, the most tower-
ing and exalted genius on earth ought frankly
to acknowledge, that we know neither our
own essence, nor that of any other creature
even the meanest and most contemptible.
Though in the schools they distinguish the
Divine attributes or excellencies, and that
by no means improperly, into communicable
and incommunicable ; yet we ought so to
guard this distinction, as always to remem-
ber, that those which are called communicable,
when applied to God, are not only to be un.
derstood, in a manner, incommunicable, and
quite peculiar to himself, but also, that in
him they are, in reality, infinitely different
from those virtues ; or rather in a matter
where the disparity of the subjects is so very
great, those shadows of virtues, that go under
the same names, either in men or angels ;
for it is not only true, that all things, in the
infinite and eternal Being, are infinite and
eternal, but they are also, though in a man.
ner quite inexpressible, himself. He is good
without quality, great without quantity, &c.
He is good in such a sense as to be called by
the Evangelist the only good Being.* He
is also the only wise Being ; " To the only
wise God," saith the Apostle. And the same
Apostle tells us, in another place, " That
he only hath immortality," that is, " from
his own nature, and not from the will or dis-
position of another."-}- " If we are con-
sidered as joined to, or united with God,"
says an ancient writer of great note, " we
have a being, we live, and in some sort are
wise : but if we are compared with God, we
have no wisdom at all, nor do we live, or so
much as have any existence. "if All other
things were by Him brought out of nothing,
in consequence of a free act of his will, by
means of his infinite power ; so that they
may be justly called mere contingencies, and
he is the only necessarily existent Being.
Nay, he is the only really existent Being.
To ov-rus a>) or, as Plotinus expresses it, r»
ufi^ovTtus 01. Thus also the Septuagint speaks
of him, as the only existent Being, § and so
also does the Heathen poet.jl This is like-
wise implied in the exalted name Jehovah,
which expresses his being, and that he has
it from himself ; but what that being is, or
wherein its essence, so to speak, consists, it
* Matthew xix. 17.
t EJ axuae QvTiia;, tu» e| ir'coy ^6u\v,<riut.
it Deo si conjungimur, sumus, vivimus, sapimus_
Deo si comparamur, nee sapimus oimiino, nee vivi"
mils, Imo nee sumus, Greg. Mag. Mor.
§ 0«».
H OllJj Til Ifftj' iTffCl ZUfH U-Wa.>.cu &nci>.'r.
I.ECT. XXI.
does not say ; nor, if it did, could we at all
conceive it. Nay, so far is that name from
discovering what his being is, that it plainly
insinuates, that his existence is hid, and co-
vered with a veil. I am who I am ; or, 7
am what I am.* As if he had said, I myself
know what I am, but you neither know nor
can know it ; and if I should declare where-
in my being consists, you could not conceive
it. He has, however, manifested in his
works and in his word what it is our interest
to know, " That he is the Lord God, mer-
ciful and gracious, abundant in goodness and
truth."
We call him a most pure Spirit, and mean
to *ay, that he is of a nature entirely incor-
poreal ; yet this word, in the Greek, Hebrew,
and all other languages, according to its pri-
mitive and natural signification, conveys no
other idea, than that of a gentle gale, or
wind, which every one knows to be a body,
though ratified to a very great degree ; so that
when we speak of that infinite purity, all
words fail us ; and even when we think of it,
all the refinements of the acutest understand-
ing are quite at a stand, and become entirely
useless. It is, in every respect, as necessary
to acknowledge his eternity, as his being ;
provided that when we mention the term God,
we mean by it the first being, supposing that
expression to include also his self-existence.
This idea of a first and eternal Being is
again inseparably connected with an infinite
degree of all possible perfection, together with
immutability, and absolute perseverance there-
in. But all these are treated of, at great
length, in theological books, whereof vou have
a very large collection.
In like manner, if we suppose God to be
the first of all beings, we must, unavoidably,
therefrom conclude his unity : as to the in-
effable Trinity subsisting in this Unity, a
mystery discovered only by the Sacred Scrip-
tures, especially in the New Testament,
where it is more clearly revealed than in the
Old, let others boldly pry into it, if they
please ; while we receive it with an humble
faith, and think it sufficient for us to admire
and adore.
The other attributes, that used to be men-
tioned on this subject, may be supposed to
be perfectly comprehended under the follow-
ing three, viz. power, wisdom, and goodness :
for holiness, justice, mercy, infinite bounty,
&c. may be, with great propriety, ranked
under the general term of goodness.
But rather than insist upon metaphysical
Speculations, let us, while we walk daily in
these pleasant fields, be constantly culling
fresh and never-fading flowers. " When the
Psalmist cries out, ' Great is the Lord, and
greatly to be praised, and of his greatness
there is no endj'f he wanted to shew," saith
i St. Augustine, " how great he is ; but how
• Exodus Ui. 14. t Psalm cxlr. 3.
THE DIVINE ATTRIBUTES.
60f)
can this be done ? Thougn ne repeated,
great, great, the whole day, it would have
been to little purpose, for he must have end-
ed at last, because the day would have end-
ed ; but his greatness was before the be-
ginning of days, and will reach beyond the
end of time."" The poet expresses himself
admirably well : " I will praise thee, O
blessed God, with my voice, I will praise
thee, also, with silence. For thou, O inex-
pressible Father, who canst never be known,
understandest the silence of the mind, as well
as any words or expressions/'-^
LECTURE XXII.
How to regulate Life according to the
Rules of RELIGION*.
I HAVE now, at different times, addressed
myself to you upon several subjects of great
importance, and of the utmost necessity ;
though what I have hitherto said was only
designed as a preface, or introduction, to
v hat I further proposed. But to attempt to
prosecute this design at the very end of the
year, would be quite improper, and to little
or no purpose ; I shall, therefore, altogether
forbear entering upon it, and, for this time,
lay before you a few advices which may be
useful, not only in order to employ to greatet
advantage the months of vacation that are
now at hand, but also the better to regulate
your whole lives.
And my first advice shall be, to avoid too
much sleep, which wastes the morning hours,
that are most proper for study, as well as for
the exercises of religion ; and stupifies and
enervates the strength of body and mind. I
remember, that the famous abbot of Claire-
vaux,J when he found the friars sleeping
immoderately, used to say, " That they slept
like the secular clergy. "§ And though we
do not admit of the severe rules to which the
monks subjected themselves, we must at
least allow, that the measure and degree of
sleep, and other bodily refreshments, suit-
able for a young man devoted to study and
devotion, is very far diffeient from that ex-
cess in which the common sort of mankind
indulge themselves.
Another advice, which is akin to and
nearly connected with the former, shall be
Volebat dic
Etsl tola die magnum diceret, par-am e«et, finirct
quando, quia Bniretur dies, maguitudo autem llli-ai
magnus lit, ml lioe qui fler potost ?
cnim ali-
, ante diei,
et ultra dies.
1 '\livia <Tf fuucop, Toou <cai orya*
Kai Sia <jxav(K. AMI? vocpa?
*Yfivw <rf tJMKafi Harep ayvuiare,
Kai Sia. ovyas. Uarip apprp-c.
'Ocra yaf ^urat Syn. Ilymno, 4ta
J St. Bernard. § Seculariter dormire.
ra
610
OF A RELIGIOUS LIFE.
to observe temperance in eating and drink-
ing : for moderation in sleeping generally
follows sobriety in eating, and other sensual
gratifications ; but that thick cloud of va-
pours, that arises from a full stomach, must
of necessity overwhelm all the animal spirits,
and keep them long locked up in an indo-
lent, inactive state. Therefore the Greeks,
not without reason, express these two duties,
to be sober, and to be watchful, indifferent-
ly by the same term. And the apostle Peter,
that he might make his connexion more evi-
dent, uses, indeed, two words for this pur-
pose ; but exhorts to these duties, as closely
connected together, or rather as if they were
in some respect but one, — Be sober, be vigi-
lant.* And, in the same epistle, having
substituted another word for sobriety, he ex-
presses watchfulness by the same word he
had put for sobriety in the other place, — Be
sober, and watch.-\- Both these dispositions
are so applied to the mind, as to include a
sober and watchful state of the body and
senses ; as this is exceeding useful, nay,
quite necessary, in order to a correspondent
frame of the mind ; and that disposition,
both of body and mind, not only subservient,
but also necessary, to piety and constancy
in prayer ; " Be sober, and watch unto
prayer.":}:
When the body is reduced to its lightest
and most active state, still, as it is corrupti-
ble, it is, to be sure, a burden to the mind ;
how much more must it be so, when it is de-
pressed with an immoderate load of meat
and drink ; and, in consequence of this, of
sleep ! Nor can the mind rouse itself, or
use the wings of contemplation and prayer
with freedom, when it is overpowered with so
heavy a load : nay, neither can it make any
remarkable progress in the study of human
literature, but will move slowly, and embar-
rassed, be at a stand, like a wheel-carriage in
deep clay. The Greeks very justly express-
ed the virtue we are now recommending, by
the term ffcaty^rxrwr,, it being, as your fa-
vourite philosopher § observes in his Ethics,
the great preservative of the mind. He is
certainly a very great enemy to his own un-
derstanding, that lives high, and indulges
himself in luxury. " A fat belly is seldom
accompanied with an acute understand-
Nor is it my intention in this only to warn
you against drunkenness and luxury : I
would willingly hope, that such an advice
would be superfluous to you : but, in this
conflict, I would willingly carry you to such
a pitch of victory, that, at your ordinary and
least delicious meals, you would always
stop some degrees within the bounds to which
t E<; Tatf TfOiTiu
II riafcsiK yaLfir,
.n4.«r£. l Pet. iv. 7.
§ Aristotle.
LECT. XXII.
your appetite would carry you. Consider
that, as Cato said, " the belly has no ears,"*
but it has a mouth, into which a bridle must
be put, and, therefore, I address not myself
to it, but to the directing mind that is set
over it, which, for that reason, ought to go-
vern the body, with all its senses, and curb
them at its pleasure. St. Bernard's words
are admirable to this purpose : " A prudent
mind, devoted to God, ought so to act in its
body, as the master of a family in his own
house. He ought not to suffer his flesh to
be, as Solomon expresses it, like a brawling
woman, nor any carnal appetite to act like a
rebellious servant ; but to inure them to obe-
dience and patience. He must not have his
senses for his guides, but bring them into
subjection and subserviency to reason and re-
ligion. He must, by all means, have his
house and family so ordered and well dis-
ciplined, that he can say to one, Go, and he
goeth, and to another, Come, and he cometh ;
and to his servant the body, Do this, and
it doeth what it is bid, without murmuring.
The body must also be treated with a little
hardship, that it may not be disobedient to
the mind."-j- " For he," saith Solomon,
" that delicately bringeth up his servant
from a child, shall have him become a re-
bellious son at last." J This is what I would
have you aspire to for a conquest over your
flesh, and all its lusts : for they carry on a
deadly war against your souls ; and their de-
sires are then most to be resisted, when they
flatter most. What an unhappy and dis-
honourable inversion of nature it is, when
the flesh commands, and the mind is in sub-
jection ; — when the flesh, which is vile, gross,
earthly, and soon to be the food of worms,
governs " the soul, that is the breath of
God !" &c.§
Another thing I would have you beware
of, is immoderate speech. The evils of the
tongue are many ; but the shortest way to
find a remedy for them all, is to study si-
lence, and avoid, as the poet expresses it,
" excessive prating, and a vast desire of
speaking. "||
" He is a perfect man," as the apostle
James expresses it, " who offends not in
word ;"^J and therefore, doubtless, he that
speaks least, offends in this respect more
* Ventrem non habere aures.
t Sic prudens et Deo dicatus animus habere se debet
in corpore suo, sicut paterfamilias in domo sua. Non
habeat, sicut Solomon (licit, mulierem litigiosam
camera suam, nee ullum appetitum carnis ut servum
rebellem, sed ad obedientiam et patientiam assuefac-
tum. Habeat sensus BUOS non duces, sed rationi et
religion! servientes et sequaces ; habeat omnem omnino
domum vel familiam suam sic ordinatam, et disci-
plinae subditam, ut dirat huic, Vade, et vadat ; et alii,
Veni, et venial ; et servo corpori, Facito hoc, et sine
murmure fiat quod julxtur; et paulo certe duriui
tractandum est corpus, ne animo male pareat.
± Prov. xxix. 21.
S^PfJtl %' tirnt KY.UX &it,u. fiC.
I Improba garrulitas, studiumque immane loquendl
TI James iii. 2.
LECT. XXII.
rarely. " But in the multitude of words,
as the wise man observes, " there wants not
sin."* To speak much, and also to the
purpose, seldom falls to the share of one
man.-f- Now, that we may avoid loquacity,
we must love solitude, and render it familiar ;
that so every one may have an opportunity
to speak much to himself, and little to other
people. " We must, to be sure," says a
Kempis, " be in charity with all men ; but
it is not expedient to be familiar with every
one.":}: General and indiscriminate conver-
sation with every one we meet, is a mean
and silly thing. Even when we promise
ourselves comfort and satisfaction from free
conversation, we often return from such in-
terviews with uneasiness ; or at least, have
spoken and heard such things as, upon se-
rious reflection, may justly give us concern.
But if we would secure our tongues and
senses, or keep safe our hearts and all the
issues of life, we must be frequent at prayer,
in the morning, at noon, and at night, or
oftener throughout the day, and continually
walk as in the presence of God ; always re-
membering, that he observes not only our
words and actions, but also takes notice of
our most secret thoughts. This is the sum
and substance of true piety : for he who is
always sensible that that pure and all-seeing
Eye is continually upon him, will never ven-
ture to sin, with set purpose, or full consent
of mind. This sense of the Divine pre-
sence would certainly make our life on this
earth like that of the angels ; for, according
to our Lord's expression, it is their peculiar
advantage, " continually to behold the face
of our Father, who is in heaven." By this
means Joseph escaped the snares laid for him
by his imperious mistress ; and, as if he had
thrown water upon it, extinguished that fiery
dart with this seasonable reflection, " Shall
I do this great wickedness, and sin against
God ?"§ He might have escaped the eyes of
men, but he stood in awe of that Invisible Eye,
from which nothing can be hid. We read of a
good man of old, who got the better of a
temptation of the same kind, -by the same
serious consideration ; for, being carried from
one chamber to another, by the woman that
tempted him, he still demanded a place of
greater secrecy, till having brought him to
the most retired place of the whole house,
Here, said she, no person will find us out,
no eye can see us. To this he answered,
Will no eye see ? Will not that of God
perceive us ? By which saying, he himself
escaped the snare, and, by the influence of
divine grace, brought the sinful woman to
repentance. But now,
» Prov. x. 19.
t XaiJJt TO T !lT!/» Ttf./.O. X.0.1 T« xaici*.
% Charitas certe habenda est erga onmes, se<! fainilia-
•itas non expedit.
{ Gen. xxxix. 9.
OF A RELIGIOUS LIFE.
611
Let us pray
PRAISE waits for tliee, O Lord, in Zion ;
and to be employed in paying thee that tri-
bute, is a becoming and pleasant exercise :
it is due to thee from all the works of thy
hands, but particularly proper from thy saints
and celestial spirits. Elevate, O Lord, our
minds, that they may not grovel on the earth,
and plunge themselves in the mire ; but,
being carried upwards, may taste the plea-
sures of thy house, that exalted house of
thine, the inhabitants whereof are continually
singing thy praises. Their praises add no-
thing to thee, but they themselves are per-
fectly happy therein. While they behold
thy boundless goodness, without any veil,
admire thy uncreated beauty, and celebrate
the praises thereof throughout all ages ; grant
us, that we may walk in the paths of holiness,
and, according to our measure, exalt thy
name, even on this earth, until we also be
translated into the glorious assembly of those
who serve thee in thy higher house.
Remember thy goodness and thy covenant
to thy church militant upon this earth, and
exposed to dangers amidst so many enemies :
yet we believe, that, notwithstanding all
these dangers, it will be safe at last : it may
be distressed, and plunged in the waters, but
it cannot be quite overwhelmed, or finally
perish. Pour out thy blessing upon this our
nation, our city, and university. We depend
upon thee, O Father, without whose hand
we should not have been, and without whose
favour we can never be happy. Inspire our
hearts with gladness, thou, who alone art the
fountain of solid, pure, and permanent joy,
and lead us, by the paths of righteousness
and grace, to the rest and light of glory, for
the sake of thy Son, our Redeemer, Jesus
Christ. Amen.
LECTURE XXIII.
Of PURITY of LIFE.
IN every act of religious worship, what a
great advantage would it be to remember
that saying of our great Master, which no-
body is altogether ignorant of, and yet scarce
any know as they ought, " That God, whom
we worship, is a Spirit, and therefore to be
worshipped in spirit and in truth !"• He is
a Spirit, a most pure Spirit, and the Father
of spirits : he is truth, primitive truth, and
the most pure fountain of all truth : " But
we all have erred in heart."-}- We are in-
deed spirits, but spirits immersed in flesh ;
« John iv. 24.
t 'Hu.ui Ji -tti.\<n *»;?.« T>.n»u.i»«
612
OF PURITY OF LIFE.
LECT. XXIII.
nay, as it were, converted into flesh, and, are the purein heart, for they shall see God.""
the light of truth being extingnished within XT— " -1— * J :" >--—*-• ~c •*••-
us, quite involved in the darkness of error :
and, what still sets us in greater opposition
to the truth, every thing about us is false
And delusive ; " There is no soundness."*
How improper, therefore, are we, who are
deceitful and carnal^ to worship that Spirit
of supreme truth ! Though we pray and
fast often, yet all our sacrifices, as they are
polluted by the impure hands wherewith we
offer them, must be offensive and unaccept-
able to God ; and the more they are multi-
plied, the more the pure and spotless Deity
must complain of them, as the grievance is
thereby enhanced. Thus, by his prophet,
he complained of his people of old : " Your
new moons," saith he, " and your appointed
feasts, my soul hateth : they are a trouble to
me ; I am weary to bear them. Therefore,
when you spread forth your hands, I will
hide mine eyes from you, and, as it were,
turn my back \ipon you with disdain. But,
if you will wash you, and make you clean,
then come, and let us reason together.":}:
As if he had said, then let us converse to-
gether, and if there be any difference between
us, let us talk over the matter and settle it
in a friendly manner, that our complaints
may be turned into mutual embraces, and all
your' sins being freely and fully forgiven,
you may be restored to perfect innocence :
" Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall
be as white as snow ; though they be redder
than crimson, they shall be whiter than wool :
wash yourselves, and I will also wash you,
and most completely wipe away all your
ttains."
But, that we may be the better provided
for this useful and altogether necessary ex-
ercise of cleansing our hearts and ways, and
apply to it with the greater vigour, let us
dwell a little upon that sacred expression in
the Psalms, " Wherewith shall a young
man purify his way ?" The answer is, " By
taking heed thereto according to thy word."§
In this question, several things offer them-
selves to our observation.
1. That, without controversy, \\ purity of
life, or conversation, is a most beautiful and
desirable attainment, and that it must, by
all means, begin at the very fountain, that
is, the heart ; whence, as Solomon observes,
" proceed the issues of life." In the be-
ginning of the Psalm, they are pronounced
blessed, " Who are pure, or undefiled in
the way, who walk in the law of the Lord."
And, in another place, " Truly God is good
to Israel," says the Psalmist, " even to such
as are of a clean heart."5f And the words
of our Saviour to this purpose are, " Blessed
Nor is the true and genuine beauty of the
soul any thing distinct from this purity and
sanctity ; this is the true image of its great
Creator ; that golden crown, which most un-
happily dropt off the head of man, when he
fell : so that, with the greatest justice, we may
lament and say, " Woe unto us that we have
sinned." And it is the general design and
intention of all religion, all its mysteries,
and all its precepts, that this crown may be
again restored, at least, to some part of the
human race, and this image again stamped
upon them ; which image, when fully com-
pleted, and for ever confirmed, will certainly
constitute a great part of that happiness we
now hope for, and aspire after. Then, we
trust, we shall attain to a more full confor-
mity and resemblance to our beloved Head.
And, even in this way-faring state, the more
deeply and thoroughly our souls are tinctured
with the divine flame of charity, joined with
this beautiful purity, the more we resemble
Him " who is white and ruddy, and fairer
than the sons of men." The Father of
mercies has made choice of us, that we may
be holy ; the Son of God, blessed for ever,
has once for all shed his blood upon earth,
in order to purify us, and daily pours out
his Spirit from heaven upon us, for the same
purpose.
But to consider the matter as it is in it-
self, where is the person that does not, even
by the force of natural instinct, disdain filth
and nastiness, or at least prefer to it purity
and neatness of body ? Now, as the soul
greatly excels the body, so much the more
desirable is it, that it should be found in a
state of beauty and purity. In like manner,
were we to travel a journey, who would not
piefer the plain and clean way to one that
was rough and dirty ? But the way of life,
which is not the case in other matters, will
be altogether such as you would have it, or
choose to make it. With God's assistance,
and the influence of his grace, a good man
is at pains to purify his own way ; but men
of an impure and beastly disposition, who
delight to wallow in the mire, may always
easily obtain their sordid wish. But I hope
that you, disdaining such a brutish indignity,
will, in preference to every thing else, give
your most serious attention to this inquiry,
by what means even young men and boys
may purify their way, and, avoiding the
dirty paths of the common sort of mankind,
walk in such as are more pleasant and agree-
able.
,.
t 'Sxexixci xou
{ Psalm cxix. 9
\ Psalm Ixxiii.
Isaaih i. 14—16, 1&
2. Observe, that purity is not such an
easy matter, that it may fall by chance in
the way of those that are not in quest of it,
but a work of great art and industry. Hence
you may also learn, that the way, even of
» Matthew v
LECT. XXIII.
young men or boys,* stand very much in
need of this careful attention. It is indeed
true, that, in some respect, the reformation
of youth is easier, and sooner accomplished,
in that they are not accustomed to shameful
and wicked ways, nor confirmed in sinful
habits ; but there are other regards, where-
in it is more difficult to reduce that period of
life to purity, particularly as it is more strong-
ly impressed with the outward objects that
surround it, and easily disposed to imbibe
the very worst : the examples arid incite-
ments to vice beset youth in greater abun-
dance, and those of that age are more apt to
fall in with them.
But, whatever may be said of the easiness
or difficulty of reforming youth and child-
hood, it is evident from this question, which,
without doubt, is proposed with wisdom and
seriousness, that this matter is within the
verge of possibility, and of the number of
such as are fit to be attempted. Youth is
not so headstrong, nor childhood so foolish,
but by proper means they can be bent and
formed to virtue and piety. Notwithstand-
ing the irregular desires and forwardness -f
of youth, and that madness, whereby they
are hurried to forbidden enjoyments, there
are words and expressions that can soothe
this impetuosity, even such, that by them
youth can tame and compose itself, " By at-
tending to itself and its ways, according to
thy word ;" that matchless word, which con-
tains all those particular words and expres-
sions, not only that are proper to purify and
quiet all the motions and affections of the
soul, but also, by a certain divine power, are
wonderfully efficacious for that purpose. And
what was said of old concerning Sparta and
its discipline, may be, with much greater
truth, asserted of the divine law and true
religion, viz. that it had a surprising power
to tame and subdue mankind^ And this
leads us directly to the answer of the ques-
tion in the text ; " By attending thereto,
according to thy word."
This is not, therefore, to be done accord-
ing to our philosophy, but according to thy
word, O Eternal Light, Truth, and Purity !
The philosophy of the Heathens, it is true,
contains some moral instructions and pre-
cepts, that are by no means despicable ; but
this is only so far as they are agreeable to
the word of God and the divine law, though
the philosophers themselves knew nothing of
it ; but the only perfect system of moral phi-
losophy that ought to be universally receiv-
ed, is the doctrine of Christianity. This
the ancient fathers of the primitive church
have asserted, and fully proved, to the ho-
nour of our religion. But those who spend
their lives in the study of philosophy, can
» The Hebrew word used in the text, properly sig-
nifies a boy.
OF PURITY OF LIFE.
613
neither reform themselves nor others, if na-
ture be but a little obstinate ; and their wis-
dom, when it does its utmost, rather con-
ceals vices than eradicates them ; but the
divine precepts make so great a change upon
the man, and, subduing his old habits, so
reform him, that you would not know him
to be the same. If any of you, then, aspire
to this purity of mind and way, you must,
with all possible care, conform yourself, and
every thing about you, to the instructions
and precepts of this divine word. Nor think
this a hard saying ; for the study of purity
has nothing in it that is unpleasant or dis-
agreeable, unless you think it a grievance to
become like unto God.
Consider now, young men, nay, you who,
without offence, will suffer yourselves to be
called boys ; consider, I say, wherein con-
sists that true wisdom, which deserves to be
pursued with the most earnest study and ap-
plication, and whereby, if you will, you may
far exceed those that are your superiors in
years ; be ambitious to attain the advan-
tage mentioned in the text, and consequent-
ly the condition upon which it depends, for
they are inseparably connected together ; re-
concile your minds to a strict attention to
your ways, according to the divine word,
and by this means, (which is a very rare at-
tainment,) you will reconcile youth, and
even childhood, to the purity here recom-
mended : account the divine word and pre-
cepts preferable to your daily food ; yea, let
them be dearer to you than your eyes, and
even than life itself.
LECTURE XXIV.
Before the COMMTTNIOW.
IT is the advice of the wise man, " Dwell
at home, or with yourself;" and though
there are very few that do this, yet it is sur-
prising, that the greatest part of mankind
cannot be prevailed upon, at least, to visit
themselves sometimes ; but, according to
the saying of the wise Solomon, " The eyes
of the fool are in the ends of the earth." It
is the peculiar property of the human mind,
and its signal privilege, to reflect upon it-
self; yet we, foolishly neglecting this most
valuable gift, conferred upon us by our Crea-
tor, and the great ornament of our nature,
spend our lives in a brutish thoughtlessness.
Were a man not only to turn in upon him-
self, carefully to search and examine his own
heart, and daily endeavour to improve it
more and more in purity, but also to excite
others, with whom he conversed, to this laud-
able practice, by seasonable advice and af-
C14
EXHORTATION BEFORE
T.ECT. XXIV.
fecting exhortations, he would certainly think
himself very happy in these exercises. Now,
though this expedient is never unseasonable,
yet it will be particularly proper, on such an
occasion as this, to try it upon yourselves, as
you are not ignorant, that it is the great
apostolical rule, with respect to all that are
called to celebrate the divine mysteries,
" that every man examine himself, and so let
him eat of that bread, and drink of that cup."*
I do not here intend a full application of
this mystery, but only to put you in mind,
that, in order to a saving use and participa-
tion thereof, a twofold judgment must, of
necessity, be formed : the first, with respect
to our own souls ; and the other, to that of
the Lord's body. These the apostle con-
siders as closely connected together, and
therefore expresses both by the same word.
The trial we are to make of ourselves, is
indeed expressed by the word 2/>xift,K%
which signifies to prove, or to try ; but im-
mediately after he expresses it by judging
ourselves, " for if we would judge ourselves,
&c. ;"-f- whereas, in the preceding verses,
he had mentioned the other judgment to be
formed, and expressed it by the same word
Sictxfivtiv, which signifies to judge or dis-
cern : " Not discerning the Lord's body."
And this is that which renders a vast many
unworthy of so great an honour ; they ap-
proach this heavenly feast, without forming
a right judgment, either of themselves or of
it ; but, that we form a judgment of our-
selves, it is necessary that we first bring our-
selves to an impartial trial ; and, to be sure,
I should much rather advise you to this in-
ward self-examination, and heartily wish I
could persuade you to it, than that you should
content yourselves with a lifeless trial of your
memory, by repeating compositions on this
subject.
Consider with yourselves, pray, and think
seriously, what madness, what unaccounta-
ble folly it is, to trifle with the majesty of the
Most High God, and to offer to Infinite
Wisdom the sacrifices of distraction and folly!
Shall we, who are but insignificant worms,
" thus provoke the Almighty King to jea-
lousy,'^ as if we were stronger than he, and,
of purpose, run our heads, as it were, against
that power, the slightest touch whereof would
crush us to dust ? Do we not know, that
the same God who is an enlivening and sav-
ing light to all that worship with humble
piety, is, nevertheless, a consuming fire to all
the impious and profane, who pollute his
sacrifices with impure hearts and unclean
hands ; and that those especially who have
been employed in his church, and in the di-
vine offices, yet have not experienced his in-
fluence as a pure and shining light, will un-
avoidably feel him as a flaming fire ? Let
* 1 Cor. xi. 28.
f M»| diaxfitar
f Ei y
^x rov
{ iav
§
his saints rejoice and exult before God, foi
this he not only allows, but even commands ;
yet let even those of them who have made
the greatest advances in holiness,, remember,
that this holy and spiritual joy is to be join-
ed with holy fear and trembling : nay, the
greater progress they have made in holiness,
the more deeply will they feel this impressed
upon their minds, so that they can by no
means forget it. " The great eye is over
us, let us be afraid."* Great is our God,
and holy ; even the angels worship him.
Let his saints approach him, but with humi-
lity and fear ; but, as for the slothful, and
those that are immersed in guilt, that secure-
ly and with pleasure indulge themselves in
impure affections, let them not dare to come
near. Yet, if there are any, let their guilt
and pollution be ever so great, who find aris-
ing within them a hearty aversion to their
own impurity, and an earnest desire after ho-
liness ; behold there is opened for you a liv-
ing and pure fountain, most effectual for
cleansing and washing away all sort of stains,
as well as for refreshing languishing and
thirsty souls. And he that is the living and
never failing Fountain of purity and grace,
encourages, calls, and exhorts you to come to
him : " Come unto me, all ye that are
athirst," &c. And again, "All that the
Father giveth me, shall come unto me ; and
him that cometh unto me I will, by no means,
reject or cast out."-j-
Ask yourselves, therefore, what you would
be at, and with what dispositions you come
to this most sacred table. Say, whither art
thou going, and what seekest thou, O my
soul ? For it would be an instance of the
most extravagant sloth and folly to set about
a matter of so great importance, and so seri-
ous, without any end, without the prospect
of any advantage, and therefore without any
serious turn of mind, or as one doing nothing:
yet this is the case of vast numbers that meet
together in divine assemblies, and at this
holy sacrament. Is it any wonder, that those
should find nothing, who absolutely have no-
thing in view ; and that he who is bound for
no harbour should meet with no favourable
wind ? They give themselves up to the tor-
rent of custom, and steer not their course to
any particular port, but fluctuate and know
not whither they are carried ; or, if they are
alarmed with any sting of conscience, it is
only a kind of inconsiderate and irregular
motion, and reaches no further than the ex-
terior surface of sacred institutions. But,
as for you, who, according to the expression
of the angels, " Seek Jesus, fear not ;" you
will certainly find him, and in him all things :
" for it hath pleased the Father, that in him
all fulness should dwell ;"$ so that in him
there is no vacuity, and without him nothing
* O.uyua t*iyet, T(o,u.iu,u,-t. t John vi. 37-
£ Col. i. 19.
THE COMMUNION.
LECT. XXIV.
else but emptiness and vanity. Let us em-
brace him, therefore, with our whole hearts,
and on him alone let us depend and rely.
Let his death, which we commemorate by
this mystery, extinguish in us all worldly
affections : may we feel his divine power
working us into a conformity to his sacred
image ; and having our strength, as it were,
renewed by his means, let us travel to-
wards our heavenly country, constantly fol-
lowing him with a resolute and accelerated
pace.
The concern of purifying the heart in good
earnest, taking proper measures for conforming
the life to the rulesof the gospel, is equally in-
cumbent upon all. For this is the great and true
design of all divine worship, and of all reli-
gious institutions ; though the greater part
of mankind satisfy themselves with the out-
ward surface of them, and therefore catch no-
thing but shadows in religion itself, as well
as in the other concerns of life. We have
public prayers, and solemn sacraments : yet
if, amidst all these, one should look for the
true and lively characters of Christian faith,
or, in the vast numbers that attend these in-
stitutions, he should search for those that, in
the course of their lives, approve themselves
the true followers of their great Master, he
would find reason to compare them to " a few
persons, swimming at a great distance from
one another, in a vast ocean."*
It has been observed long ago by one,
" that in Rome itself he had found nothir.g
of Rome ;"•!• which, with too great truth,
might be applied to religion, about which
we make so great a bustle at present : mere
is scarcely any thing at all of religion in it ;
unless we imagine that religion consists of
words, as a grove doesof trees. For, if we sup-
pose it lies in the mortification of sin, unfeign-
ed humility, brotherly charity, and a noble
contempt of the world and the flesh, " whi-
ther has it gone and left us ?":£ As for you,
young gentlemen, if you would apply to this
matter in good earnest, you must of neces-
sity bestow some time and pains upon it, and
not fondly dream, that such great advantages
can be met with by chance, or in consequence
of a negligent and superficial inquiry. If
we are to alter the course of our lives for the
time to come, we must look narrowly into
our conduct during the preceding part of it ;
for the measures to be taken for the future
are, in a great degree, suggested by what is
past. He acts wisely, and is a happy man,
who frequently, nay daily, reviews his words
and actions ; because he will, doubtless, per-
form the same duty with greater ease and
to better purpose, when he is called to it
with more than ordinary solemnity. And,
* Apparent rari nantes in gurgite yasto.
t Se in Roma, ltoi:i:e mini iuvenisse.
t II«* TOT'. Y'-L'A; Zzr*>.t7it :
therefore, they who have experienced how
pleasant this work is, and what a mixture of
utility is joined with this pleasure, will ap-
ply to it with a cheerful mind, whenever
opportunity requires it. As to others, they
must of necessity set about it some time or
other : I say of necessity, if I am allowed
to say it is necessary to avoid the wrath to
come, and to obtain peace and salvation.
Repentance may possibly appear a laborious
and unpleasant work to our indolence, and
to repent, may seem a harsh expression ; to
perish, however, is still more harsh ; but a
sinful man has no other choice. Our Lord,
who is truth itself, being acquainted with
the cruel execution performed by Herod upon
the Galileans, takes this opportunity to de-
clare to his hearers, that, " unless they re-
pented, they should all likewise perish.""
The Saviour of the world, it is true, came
for this very purpose, that he might save
those that were miserable and lost, from the
fatal necessity of being utterly undone ; but
he never intended to take away the happy
and pleasant necessity of repentance : nay.
he strengthened the obligation to it, and im-
posed it as a duty inseparably connected with
grace and happiness ; and this connexion he
not only preached in expressions to the same
purpose with his forerunner John the Bap-
tist, but even in the very same words ; " Re-
pent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at
hand."-|- And in another place, having
told us that he came, " not to call the righ-
teous, but sinners,"^ he immediately adds,
to what he called those sinners ; not a liberty
of indulging themselves in sin, but from sin
to repentance. His blood, which was shed
on the cross, is indeed a balsam more pre-
cious than all the balm of Gilead and Ara-
bia, and all the ointments of the whole
world ; but it is solely intended for curing
the contrite in heart.
But, alas ! that gross ignorance of God
that overclouds our mind, is the great and
unhappy cause of the guilt we have contract-
ed, and of that impenitence which engages
us to continue in it. Had men but the least
knowledge how disagreeable and hateful all
sinful pollution renders us to his eternal and
infinite purity ; and, on the other hand,
what a likeness to him we attain by holiness,
and how amiable we are thereby rendered in
his sight, they would look upon this as the
only valuable attainment ; they would pur-
sue it with the most vigorous efforts of their
minds, and would make it their constant
study day and night, that, according to the
divine advice of the Apostle, " being cleans-
ed from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit,
they might perfect holiness in the fear of
God."§
• Luke xiiL 3. t Matt. iv. 7. J Matt, ix 13.
§ 2 Cor. vii. ]
tic
EXHORTATION TO THK STUDENTS.
An Exhortation to the Students, upon their
return to the University after the Vaca-
tion.
WE are at last returned, and some for the
first time, brought hither by that Supreme
Hand which holds the reins of this universe,
which rules the stormy winds and swelling
sea, and distributes peace and war to nations,
according to its pleasure. The great Lord
of the universe, and Father of mankind,
while he rules the world with absolute sway,
does not despise this little flock, provided
we look up unto him, and humbly pray,
that we may feel the favourable effects of his
presence and bounty ; nay, he will not dis-
dain to dwell within us, and in our hearts,
unless we, through folly, and ignorance of
our true happiness, shut the door against
him when he offers to come in. He is the
Most High, yet has chosen the humble
heart for the most agreeable place of his re-
sidence on this earth : but the proud and
haughty, who look with disdain on their in-
feriors, he, on his part, despises, and be-
holds, as it were, afar off. He is most holy,
and dwells in no hearts but such as are purg-
ed from the dross of earthly affections ; and
that these may be holy, and really capable
of receiving his sacred Majesty, they must
the Greeks was a mere jargon and noise of
words."*
You, who are engaged in philosophical
inquiries, ought to remember in the mean
time, that you are not so strictly confined to
that study, but you may, at the same time,
become proficients in elocution ; and, in-
deed, it is proper you should. I would,
therefore, have you to apply to both these
studies with equal attention, that you may
not only attain some knowledge of nature,
but also be in a condition to communicate
your sentiments with ease upon those subjects
you understand, and clothe your thoughts
with words and expressions ; without which,
all your knowledge will differ but very little
from buried ignorance.
In joining these two studies together, you
have not only reason for your guide, but also
Aristotle himself for your example ; for we
are told, that it was his custom to walk up
and down in the school in the morning,
teaching philosophy, particularly those specu-
lative and more obscure points which in that
age were called rationes acroamaticae, and
thus he was employed, till the hour appoint-
ed for anointing and going to exercise :•)• but
after dinner, he applied to the more enter-
taining arts of persuasion, and made his
scholars declaim upon such subjects as he
appointed them.
But to return to my own province ; for,
of necessity be purified. " Know ye not,"
says the divine apostle, " that you, even
your bodies, are the temples of the Holy to say the truth, I reckon all other things
Ghost,"* and therefore are to be preserved foreign to my purpose : whatever you do,
pure and holy ? But the mind that dwells! with regard to the other studies, give always
within them, must be still more holy, as the preference to sacred Christian philoso-
being the priest that, with constant and un- 1 phy ; which is, indeed, the chief philosophy,
wearied piety, offers up the sacrifices and and has the pre-eminence over every other
sweet incense of pious affections, cheerful science, because it holds Christ to be the
obedience, ardent prayers, and divine praises,
to the Deity of that temple.
" in whom all the treasures of wis-
dom and knowledge are hid." This the apos.
Of your studies and exotic learning, I in- tie tells us, was not the case of those false
tend not to say much. The knowledge, I
own, that men of letters, who are the most
indefatigable in study, and have the advan-
tage of the greatest abilities, can possiby at-
tain to, is at best but very small. But
since the knowledge of languages and scien-
ces, however inconsiderable it may be, is the
business of this society of ours, and of that
period of years you are to pass here, let us
do, I pray, as the Hebrews express it, " the
work of die day while the day lasts ;"•{•
" fortune slips silently away, and every suc-
ceeding hour is attended with greater disad-
vantages than that which went before it."$
Study to acquire such a philosophy as is
not barren and babbling, but solid and true ;
not such an one as floats upon the surface of
endless verbal controversies, but one that en-
ters into the nature of things ; for he spoke
good sense, that said. " The philosophy of
* 1 Cor. vi. 19. T Opus die! in die suo.
t Tempos nam taciturn submit, horaque
Semper preterits deterior subit.
Christians in his time, whose philosophy re-
garded only some idle superstitions and vain
observations. Cultivate, therefore, I say,
this Sacred Wisdom sent down from hea-
ven, " Let this be your main study ;§ for
its mysteries are the most profound, its pre-
cepts the most pure, and, at the same time,
the most pleasant. In this study, a weak
understanding will be no disadvantage, if
you have but a willing mind, and ardent de-
sires. Here, if any where, the observation
holds, " That if you love learning, you can-
not fail to make great progress therein.")]
For some, that have applied with great in-
dustry to human philosophy, have found it
to be like a disdainful mistress, and lost
their labour ; but divine philosophy invites
and encourages even those of the meanest
parts
EXHORTATION TO THE STUDENTS.
61?
And, indeed, it may be no small comfort
and relief to young men of slow capacities,
who make but little progress in human
sciences, even when they apply to them with
the most excessive labour and diligence, that
this heavenly doctrine, though it be the most
exalted in its own nature, is not only acces-
sible to those of the lowest and meanest parts,
but they are cheerfully admitted to it, gra-
ciously received, preferred to those that are
proud of their learning, and very often ad-
vanced to higher degrees of knowledge there-
in ; according to that of the Psalmist, " The
law of the Lord is pure, enlightening the
eyes ; the entrance of his word giveth light,
it giveth also understanding unto the sim-
ple."* You therefore, whom some very for-
out doubt, what we all seek after, yet there
are very few that know the way to it, though
it be quite plain and open. It is indeed no
wonder, that the blind, who wander about
without a guide, should mistake the plainest
and most open path ; but we have an in -
fallible guide, and a most valiant leader, let
us follow him alone ; for he that treadeth in
his steps, can never walk in darkness.
Let us pray.
O ! INVISIBLE God, who seest all things ;
eternal light, before whom all darkness is
ward-f- youths leave far behind in other stu- light, and in comparison with whom every
dies, take courage ; and to wipe off this stain, other light is but darkness. The weak eyes
if it be one, and compensate this discourage- ] of our understanding cannot bear the open
ment, make this your refuge ; you cannot and full rays of thy inaccessible light : and
possibly arrive at an equal pitch of eloquence yet, without some glimpses of that light from
or philosophy with some others ; but what heaven, we can never direct our steps, nor
hinders you, pray, from being as pious, as ! proceed towards that country which is the
modest, as meek and humble, as holy and
pure in heart, as any other person what-
ever ? And, by this means, in a very short
time, you will be completely happy in the
enjoyment of God, and live for ever in the
blessed society of angels, and spirits of just
men made perfect.
But if you want to make a happy progress
habitation of light. May it therefore please
thee, O Father of lights, to send forth thy
light and thy truth, that they may lead us
directly to thy holy mountain. Thou an
good, and the Fountain of goodness ; give us
understanding, that we may keep thy pre-
cepts. That part of our past lives, which we
have lost in pursuing shadows, is enough,
in this wisdom, you must, to be sure, declare i and indeed too much ; bring back our souls
war against all the lusts of the world and the into the paths of life, and let the wonderful
flesh, which enervate your minds, weaken
i-our strength, and deprive you of all disposi-
sweetness thereof, which far exceeds all the
pleasures of this earth, powerfully, yet plea-
tion and fitness for imbibing this pure and j santly, preserve us from being drawn aside
immaculate doctrine. How stupid is it to
, catch so greedily at advantages so vanishing
and fleeting in their nature, if, indeed, they
therefrom by any temptation from sin or the
world. Purify, we pray thee, our souls from
all impure imaginations, that thy most beau-
can be carried advantages at all : " Advan- tiful and holy image may be again renewed
rages that are carried hither and thither, hur- ! within us, and by contemplating thy glorious
'ried from place to place by the uncertainty ' perfections, we may feel daily improved with-
of their nature, and often fly away before they in us, that divine similitude, the perfection
can be possessed !"J An author, remarka- whereof, we hope, will at last make us for
ble for his attainments. in religion, justly cries
out, " O! what peace and tranquillity might
ever happy in that full and beatific vision we
aspire after. Till this most blessed day
he possess, who could be prevailed upon to ' break, and the shadows fly away, let thy
I cut off all vain anxiety, and only think of. Spirit be continually with us, and may we
those things that are of a divine and saving j feel the powerful effects of His divine grace
: nature !"§ Peace and tranquillity is, with- constantly directing and supporting our steps,
that all our endeavours, not only in this so-
• Psalm cxix. 130. t AM,™**. • • t b)lt throughout the whole remaining
t I« «»»• *«i XXTU $trcu.inz, xaa t'.'iT''.Tcu.'.tx, xtu *-'vlv>
! T£i» \r,$Br,,ai <*T«n». part of our lives, may serve to promote the
O qui omnem vanam sollcitudinem ampuurct, et honour of thy blessed name, through Jesus
lalutaria ciuntaxat ac divina cogitaret, quantam quie- „, . T J , .
tern et pacetn possideret ! Christ OUT Lord. Amen.
EXHORTATIONS
CANDIDATES
FOR THE DEGREE OF
MASTER OF ARTS
UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH
EXHORTATIONS, &..
EXHORTATION I.
WERE I allowed to speak freely what I
sincerely think of most of the affairs of hu-
man life, even those that are accounted of
the highest importance, and transacted with
the greatest eagerness and bustle, I should
be apt to say, " that a great noise is made
about the merest trifles :"* but if you should
take this amiss, as a little unseasonable upon
the present occasion, and an insult upon your
solemnity, I hope you will the more easily
forgive me, that I place in the same rank
with this philosophical convention of yours,
the most famous councils and general assem-
blies of princes and great men ; and say of
their golden crowns, as well as your crowns
of laurel, " that they are things of no value,
and not worth the purchasing."-f- Even the
triumphal, inaugural, or nuptial processions
of the greatest kings and generals of armies,
with whatever pomp and magnificence, as
well as art, they may be set off, they are,
after all, so far true representations of their
false, painted, and tinsel happiness, that,
while we look at them, they fly away ; and,
' in a very short time, they are followed
by their funeral processions, which are
the triumphs of death over those who have
themselves triumphed during their lives
The scenes are shifted, the actors also dis-
appear ; and, in the same manner, the great-
est shows of this vain world likewise pass
away. Let us, that we may lop ofF the luxu-
riant branches of our vines, take a nearer
view of this object, and remember, that what
we now call a laurel crown, will soon be fol-
lowed by cypress wreaths : it will be also
proper to consider how many, who, in their
time, were employed as we are now, have
long ago acted their parts, and are now con-
signed to a long oblivion ; as also, what vast
numbers of the rising generation are fol-
lowing us at the heels, and, as it were,
pushing us forward to the same land of for-
getfulness ; who, while they are hurrying us
away, are at the same time hastening thither
themselves. All that we see, all that we do,
• Magno tonatu magnas nilgai,
t K«Tv0f rxiote ovx av T*I«*/A»JII.
and all that we are, are but mere dreams ;
and if we are not sensible of this truth, it is
because we are still asleep : none but minds
that are awake can discern it; they, and
they only, can perceive and despise these t/-
lusions* of the night. In the mean time,
nothing hinders us from submitting to these,
and other such customary formalities, provid-
ed our doing it interfere not with matters of
much greater importance, and prospects of a
different and more exalted nature. What is
it, pray, to which, with the most ardent wish-
es, you have been aspiring, throughout the
whole course of these four last years ? Here
you have a cap and a title, and nothing at all
more. But, perhaps, taking this amiss, you
secretly blame me in your hearts, and wish
me to congratulate you upon the honour you
have obtained. I cheerfully comply with
your desire, and am willing to explain my-
self. These small presents are not the prin-
cipal reward of your labours, nor the chief
end of your studies ; but honorary marks
and badges of that erudition and knowledge
wherewith your minds have been stored by
the uninterrupted labours of four whole
years. But whatever attainments in learn-
ing you have reached, I would have you se-
riously to reflect, how inconsiderable they are,
and how little they differ from nothing ; nay,
if what we know, is compared with what we
know not, it will be found even vastly less
than nothing : at least, it is an argument of
little knowledge, and the sign of a vain and
weak mind, to be puffed up with an overbear-
ing opinion of our own knowledge : while on
the contrary, it is an evidence of great pro-
ficiency in knowledge, to be sensible of our
ignorance and inability. " He is the wisest
man," says Plato, " who knows himself to
be very ill qualified for the attainment of
wisdom."-f Whatever be in this, we often
find the sciences and arts which you culti-
vate. to be useless, and entirely barren, with
regard to the advantages of life ; and, gene-
rally speaking, those other professions that
are illiterate and illiberal, nay even unlaw-
ful, meet with better treatment, and a great
t 'Quits rtQairentf iffm iy>&XH itt euotttf «{ie;
S«,- »•»««*»• Philo. apol. Socr.
622
EXHORTATION I.
er encouragement, than what we call the li-
beral arts. " He that ventures upon the sea,
is enriched by his voyages : he that engages
in war, glitters with gold : the mean parasite
lies drunk on a rich bed ; and even he, who
endeavours to corrupt married women, is re-
warded for his villany. Learning alone
starves in tattered rags, and invokes the a-
bandoned arts in vain."*
But as sometimes the learned meet with a
better fate, you, young gentlemen, I ima-
gine, entertain better hopes with regard to
your fortune ; nor would I discourage them,
yet I would gladly moderate them a little by
this wholesome advice ; lean not upon a
broken reed, neither let any one who values
his peace, his real dignity, and his satisfac-
tion, give himself up to hopes that are un-
certain, frail, and deceitful. The hu-
man race are, perhaps, the only creatures
that by this means become a torment to
themselves ; for, as we always grasp at fu-
turity, we vainly promise ourselves many
and great things, in which, as commonly
happens, being for the most part disappoint-
ed, we must, of necessity, pay for our fool-
ish pleasure with a proportionate degree of
pain. Thus, the greatest part of mankind
find the whole of this wretched life chequer-
ed with delusive joys and real torments, ill-
grounded hopes, and fears equally imagi-
nary : amidst these, we live in continual sus-
pense, and die so too.
But a few, alas ! a few only, yet some
who think more justly, having set their
hearts upon heavenly enjoyments, take plea-
sure in despising, with a proper greatness of
mind, and trampling upon, the fading enjoy-
ments of this world. These make it their
only study, and exert their utmost efforts,
that, having the more divine part of their
composition weaned from the world and the
flesh, they may be brought to a resemblance
arid union with the holy and supreme God,
the Father of spirits, by purity, piety, and
an habitual contemplation of divine objects :
and this, to be sure, is the principal thing,
with a noble ambition whereof I would have
your minds inflamed ; and whatever profes-
sion or manner of life you devote yourselves
to, it is my earnest exhortation and request,
that you would make this your constant and
principal study. Fly, if you have any re-
gard to my advice, fly far from that contro-
versial, contentious school-divinity, which, in
fact, consists in fruitless disputes about words,
and rather deserves the name of vain and
foolish talking.
Almost all mankind are constantly catch-
ing at something more than they possess, and
* Qui pelago credit, magno se fcenore tollit :
Qui pugnas et castra petit, praecingitur auro .
Vilis adulator picto jacet ebrius ostro ;
Et qui sollicitit nuptas, ad praevnia peccat.
Sola pruinosis horret facundia pannis,
Atque inopi lingua descrtas invocat artes.
torment themselves In vain ; nor is our rest
to be found among these enjoyments of the
world, where all things are covered with a
deluge of vanity, as with a flood of fluctua-
ting, restless waters ; and the soul, flying
about, looking in vain for a place on which
it may set its foot, most unhappily loses its
time, its labour, and itself at last, like " the
birds in the days of the flood, which having
long sought for land, till their strength was
quite exhausted, fell down at last, and pe-
rished in the waters."*
O ! how greatly preferable to these bush-
es, and briars, and thorns, are the delightful
fields of the gospel, wherein pleasure and pro-
fit are agreeably mixed together, whence you
may learn the way to everlasting peace, that
poverty of spirit, which is the only true rich-
es, that purity of heart, which is our greatest
beauty, and that inexpressible satisfaction,
which attends the exercise of charity, humi-
lity, and meekness ! When your minds are
stored and adorned with these graces, they
will enjoy the most pleasing tranquillity, even
amidst the noise and tumults of this present
life ; and you will be, to use the words oi
Tertullian, candidates for eternity ; a title
infinitely more glorious and sublime, than
what has been this day conferred upon you.
And that great and last day, which is st
much dreaded by the slaves of this presenl
world, will be the most happy and auspicious
to you ; as it will deliver you from a dark,
dismal prison, and place you in the regions
of the most full and marvellous light.
Let us pray.
MOST exalted God, who hast alone creat-
ed, and dost govern this whole frame, and
all the inhabitants thereof, visible and invisi-
ble, whose name is alone wonderful, and te
be celebrated with the highest praise, as it is
indeed above all praise and admiration. Let
the heavens, the earth, and all the elements,
praise thee ; let darkness, light, and all the
returns of days and years, and all the varie-
ties and vicissitudes of things, praise thee ;
let the angels praise thee, the arch-angels,
and all the blessed court of heaven, whose
very happiness it is, that they are constantly
employed in celebrating thy praises. We
confess, O Lord, that we are of all creatures
the most unworthy to praise thee ; yet, of all
others, we are under the greatest obligations
to do it ; nay, the more unworthy we are,
our obligation is so much the greater. From
this duty, however unqualified we may be,
we can by no means abstain, nor indeed
ought we. Let our souls bless thee, and all
that is within us praise thy holy name, who
forgivest all our sins, and healest all our dis-
* Qu.Tsitisqup diu teiris ubi sistere detur,
In mare lassatis volucris vaga decidit alls.
EXHORTATION II.
623
er.scs, who deliverest our souls from destruc-
tion, and crownest them with bounty and
tender mercies. Thou searchest the heart,
O Lord, and perfectly knowest the most in-
timate recesses of it : reject not those prayers
which thou perceivest to be the voice and
the wishes of the heart : now it is the great
request of our hearts, unless they always de-
ceive us, that they may be weaned from all
earthly and perishing enjoyments ; and if
there is any thing to which they cleave with
more than ordinary force, may they be pull-
ed away from it by thy Almighty hand, that
they may be joined to thee for ever in an in-
separable marriage-covenant ; and, in our be-
half, we have nothing more to ask. We
only add, in behalf of thy church, that it
may be protected under the shadow of thy
wings, and every where, throughout the
world, watered by thy heavenly dew, that the
npirit and heat of worldly hatred against it
may be cooled, and its intestine divisions,
whereby it is much more grievously scorched,
extinguished. Bless this nation, this city,
and this university, in which we beg thou
wouldst be pleased to reside, as in a garden
dedicated to thy name, through Jesus Christ
our Lord. Amen.
EXHORTATION II.
WOULD you have me to speak the truth
with freedom and brevity ? The whole world
is a kind of stage, and its inhabitants mere
actors. As to this little farce of yours, it is
now very near a conclusion, and you are upon
the point of applying to the spectators for
their applause. Should any superciliously
decline paying this small tribute,* you sure-
ly may, with great ease, retort their contempt
upon themselves, merely by saying, " Let
your severity fall heavy on those who admire
their own performances ; as to this affair of
ours, we know it is nothing at all :" for I
will not allow myself to doubt but you are
very sensible, that there is indeed nothing
in it.
It would, to be sure, be very improper,
especially as the evening approaches, to de-
tain you and my other hearers with a loug
and tedious discourse, when you are already
more than enough fatigued, and almost quite
tired out, with hearing. I shall therefore
only put you in mind of one thing, and that
in a few words. Let not this solemn toy,-^
however agreeable to youthful minds, so far
impose upon you, as to set you a-dreaming
of great advantages and pleasures to be met
with in this new period of life you are enter-
upon. Look round you, if you please,
and take a near and exact survey of all the
different stations of life that are set before you.
if you enter upon any of the stations of active
ife, what is this but jumping into a bush of
thorns, where you can have no hope of en-
oying quiet, and yet cannot easily get out
again ? But if you rather choose to enter
upon some new branch of science, alas ! what
a small measure of knowledge is to be thus
obtained, with what vast labour is even that
.ittle to be purchased, and how often, after
mmense toil and difficulty, will it be found,
.lint truth is still at a distance, and not yet
extracted out of the well !* We indeed be-
ieve that the soul breathed into man when
ic was first made, was pure, full of light,
and every way worthy of its divine original:
3ut ah ! Father of mankind, how soon, and
!iow much was he changed from what he
was at first ! He foolishly gave ear to the
"atal seducer, and that very moment was
seized upon by death, whereby he at once
lost his purity, his light or truth, and, to-
gether with himself, ruined us also.
Now, since that period, what do you com-
monly meet with among men of wisdom and
learning, as they would wish to be accounted,
but fighting and bickering in the dark ?
And while they dispute, with the greatest
heat, but at random, concerning the truth,
that truth escapes out of their hands, and
instead of it, both parties put up with vain
shadows or phantoms of it, and, according
to the proverb, embrace a cloud instead of
Juno.
But, since we are forced to own, that even
the most contemptible and minutest things
in nature, often put all our philosophical
subtlety to a nonplus, what ignorance and
foolish presumption-^ is it for us to aim at
ransacking the most hidden recesses of divine
things, and boldly attempt to scan the divine
decrees, and the other most profou 1 mys-
teries of religion, by the imperfect and scanty
measures of our understandings ! Whither
would the presumption of man hurry him,
while it prompts him to pry into every secret
and hidden thing, and leave nothing at all
unattempted !
As for you, young gentlemen, especially
those of you that intend to devote yourselves
to theological studies, it is my earnest ad-
vice and request to you, that you fly far
from that infectious curiosity which would
lead you into the depths of that controversial,
contentious theology, which, if any doctrine
at all deserves the name, may be truly term-
ed, " science falsely so called.''^ And
that you may not, in this respect, be im-
posed upon by the common reputation of
acuteness and learning, I confidently affirm,
that, to understand and be master of those
trifling disputes that prevail in the schools,
• E« rev /}u9ev YI cLkvfltm- t A«0«>=i*<
t •fit/Si* ^.tw; ytvcis-
(524
EXHORTATION III.
is an evidence of a very mean understanding ;
while, on the contrary, it is an argument of a
genius truly great, entirely to slight and de-
spise them, and to walk in the light of pure
and peaceable truth, which is far above the
dark and cloudy region of controversial dis-
putes. But, you will say, it is necessary,
in order to the defence of truth, to oppose
errors, and blunt the weapons of sophists.
Be it so ; but our disputes ought to be man-
aged with few words, for naked truth is most
effectual for its own defence, and when it is
once well understood, its natural light dispels
all the darkness of error : " for all things
that are reproved, are made manifest by the
light,"* saith the apostle. Your favourite
philosopher has told us, " That what is
straight discovers both rectitude and obli-
quity." And Clemens Alexandrinus has
very justly observed, " that the ancient phi-
losophers were not greatly disposed to dis-
putes or doubting : but the latter philoso-
phers among the Greeks, out of a vain desire
to enhance their reputation, engaged so far in
wrangling and contention, that their works
became quite useless and trifling."-{-
There is but one useful controversy and
dispute, one eort of war, most noble in its
nature, or most worthy of a Christian, and
this not to be carried on against enemies at
a great distance, but such as are bred within
our own breasts ; against those it is most
reasonable to wage an endless war, and them
it is our duty to persecute to death. Let us
all, children, young men and old, exert our-
selves vigorously in this warfare ; let our
vices die before us, that death may not find
us indolent, defiled, and wallowing in the
mire ; for then it will be most truly, and to
our great misery, death to us : whereas, to
those sanctified souls, who are conformed to
Christ, and conquerors by his means, it rather
is to be called life, as it delivers them from
their wanderings and vices, from all kinds of
evils, and from that death which is final and
eternal.
Let us pray.
ETERNAL GOD, who art constantly ador-
ed by thrones and powers, by seraphim and
cherubim, we confess that thou art most wor-
thy to be praised ; but we of all others are the
most unworthy to be employed in shewing
forth thy praise. How can polluted bodies
and impure souls, which, taken together, are
nothing but mere sinks of sin, praise thee,
the pure and holy Majesty of heaven ? Yet,
how can these bodies which thou hast won-
derfully formed, and those souls which thou '
» Eph. v. 13.
I 'On it Ta.AK
K.U.CI.
ov$i in re 0.0.11
at ittf 'E>.Ar,T.
XXI IflVTIXUf, Iff T'ltV et\.'tlfTCt I^X^ttTCC
hast inspired, which owe entirely to thine
unmerited favour all that they are, all that
they possess, and all that they hope for,
forbear praising thee, their wise and bounti-
ful Creator and Father ? Let our souls,
therefore, and all that is within us, bless thy
holy name ; yea, let all our bones say, O
Lord, who is like thee ; who is like unto
thee ? Far be it, most gracious Father,
from our hearts, to harbour any thing that
is displeasing to thee : let them be, as it
were, temples dedicated to thy service,
thoroughly purged from every idol and image,
from every object of impure love and earthly
affection. Let our most gracious King and
Redeemer dwell and reign within us ; may
he take full possession of us by his Spirit,
and govern all our actions. May he extend
his peaceable and saving kingdom through-
out the whole habitable world, from the
rising of the sun to the going down thereof.
Let the nations acknowledge their King,
and the isles be glad in him, and particular-
ly that which we inhabit, with those in its
neighbourhood ; and, that they may be truly
blessed in him, may they daily submit, more
perfectly and dutifully, to his golden sceptre,
and the holy laws of his gospel. Bless this
nation and city, and this our university ;
may it be continually watered with the dew
of thy Spirit, and plentifully produce fruit
acceptable in thy sight, through Jesus Christ
our Lord. Amen.
EXHORTATION III.
THIS day, which has been the object of
your earnest wishes, throughout the course
of four whole years, is now almost over, and
hastening to a close. What has it produced
for your advantage ? Can he that has reap-
ed most successfully of you all, say lie has
filled his arms with sheaves ? Though pos-
sibly you would excuse me to express my-
self with great freedom on this occasion, yet
I will not take the liberty to depreciate too
much your past studies, the specimens you
have given to-day of your abilities, and the
degree that has been conferred njpon you.
This at least, I imagine, I may say without
offence, the most of those things we greedily
catch at, and labour most earnestly to obtain,
and consequently even your philosophy, is a
real and demonstrative truth of that great
paradox, that there is a vacuity in the na-
ture of things. And, in truth, how great is
this vacuity, seeing even the human race i»
no inconsiderable part of it ! Though this
day is marked with more than ordinary so-
lemnity, it is, after all, but the conclusion
and period of a number of days that have
KXHORTATlOiN III.
C25
been idly spent, and is itself elapsing to little
or no purpose, as well as the rest. But O !
how glorious must that blessed day be,
which all purified souls, and such as are
dear to God, earnestly long for throughout
the whole of this perishing life, and constant-
ly wait, with a kind of impatience, until it
dawn, and the shadows fly away !
I am, indeed, of opinion, that those of
you who think most justly, will readily own,
your attainments, hitherto, are of no great
moment. But, possibly, henceforth you in-
tend to begin life, as it were, anew ; you as-
pire to greater matters, and entertain views
worthy of human nature ; you already begin
to live, and to be wise ; you form desires,
and conceive hopes of rising to arts, riches,
and honours : all this is very well. Yet
there is one consideration I would have you
to admit among these ingenious projects and
designs. What if death should come upon
you, and looking, with an envious eye, upon
this towering prospect, put a stop to a project
that extends itself so far into futurity, and,
like a spider's web, entirely destroy it with
a gentle breath of wind ? Nor would this
be any prodigy, or indeed an extraordinary
event, but the common fate of almost all man-
kind. " We are always resolving to live,
and yet never set about life in good earnest."*
Archimedes was not singular in his fate ;
but a great part of mankind die unexpected-
ly, while they are poring upon the figures
they have described in the sand. O wretch-
ed mortals ! who having condemned them-
selves, as it were, to the mines, seem to make
it their chief study to prevent their ever re-
gaining their liberty. Hence new employ-
ments are assumed in the place of old ones ;
and, as the Roman philosopher truly ex-
presses it, '* one hope succeeds another, one
instance of ambition makes way for another;
and we never desire an end of our misery,
but only that it may change its outward
form."-)- When we cease to be candidates,
and to fatigue ourselves in soliciting interest,
we begin to give our votes and interest to
those who solicit us in their turn : when we are
wearied of the trouble of prosecuting crimes
at the bar, we commence judges ourselves ;
and he who is grown old in the management
of other men's affairs for money, is at last
employed in improving his own wealth.
At the age of fifty," says one, " I will re-
tire and take my ease ; or, the sixtieth
year of my life shall entirely disengage me
from public offices and business." Fool !
art thou not ashamed to reserve to thyself
the last remains and dregs of life ? Who
will stand surety, that thou shalt live so
long ? And what immense folly is it, so far
to forget mortality, as to think of beginning
* Victuros agimus semper, nee vivimus unquam.
t Spes spem excipit, ambitionem ambitio et miseri-
arum non quasritur finis, sed schema tantum mutatur
to live at that period of years to which a few
only attain !
As for you, young gentlemen, I heartily
wish you may think more justly; let your
souls, as it were, retire into themselves, and
dwell at home ; and having shaken off the
trifles that make a bustle and noise around
you, consider seriously, that tKe remaining
part of your life is long only in one respect,
(and in this indeed its length may be justly
complained of,) that it is fraught with every
sort of misery and affliction, and has nothing
agreeable in it, but the study of heavenly wis-
dom alone ; for every thing else is vanity."*
Look about you and see, whether there is
any thing worthy of your affection, and whe-
ther every thing you see does not rather ex-
cite your indignation and aversion. At
home are contentions and dispute? ; abroad,
in the fields, robbers ; clamour and noise at
the bar ; wickedness in the camp ; hypo-
crisy in the church ; and vexation or lament-
able mistakes every where. Among the
rich and great there are false and inconstant
friendships, bitter enmities, envy, fraud, and
falsehood ; and cares in great numbers,
flutter round the most stately and sumptuous
palaces.
What a considerable part of mankind are
struggling with open and sharp afflictions !
To whatever side you turn yourself, what do
you commonly hear but lamentation and
mourning ? How many complaints of the
poor, that are distressed for want of daily
bread, or drag a most wretched life under
the grievous oppression of powerful tyrants !
How frequent are the groans of the sick and
languishing ! How great the multitude of
those that lament their friends and relations
carried off by death, and will themselves, in
a short time, and for the same reason, be la-
mented by others ? And, to conclude, how
innumerable are the miseries and afflictions
of various kinds, that seem alternately to re-
echo to one another ! Can it be any wonder,
then, that a life of this kind should some-
times force, even from a wise man, such ex-
pressions of sorrow and concern as the fol-
lowing : " O mother, why didst thou bring
me forth, to be oppressed with afflictions and
sorrows ? Why didst thou introduce me into
a life full of briars and thorns ?"f
But you are now philosophers, and amidst
these dismal calamities, you comfort your-
selves with the inward and hidden riches of
wisdom, and the sciences you have acquired.
The sciences ! Tell us in what part of the
earth they are to be found. Let us know,
pray, where they dwell, that we may flock
thither in great numbers. I know, indeed,
where there is abundance of noise, with vain
and idle words, and a jarring of opinions,
* T« St
f Ml]Tl{,
Turn i
Ttfttt flip iuxtK »
2 R
EXHORTATION IV.
between contending disputants ; I know
where ignorance, under the disguise of a
gown and a beard, has obtained the title of
science ; but, where true knowledge is to be
found, I know not. We grope in the dark,
and though it is truth only we are in quest
of, we fall into innumerable errors. But,
whatever may be our case with respect to the
knowledge of nature, as to that of heavenly
and divine things, let us cheerfully embrace
that rich present which Infinite Goodness
has made us, and be thankful that the day-
spring from on high hath visited us. " Be-
cause there was no wisdom on this earth,"
says Lactantius, " he sent a teacher from
heaven."* Him let us follow as our guide ;
for he that follows his direction, shall not
walk in darkness.
Let us pray.
INFINITE, eternal Creator, and King of
heaven and earth, bodies and spirits, who,
being unmoved thyself, movest all things,
and changest them at thy pleasure, while
thou remainest thyself altogether unchange-
able; who supportest all things by thy power-
ful hand, and governest them by thy nod,
the greatest as well as the least ; so that the
greatest are no burden to thee, nor dost thou
contemn the least. Behold ! the nations be-
fore thee are as the drop of the bucket, and
like the small dust of the balance ; and these
isles of ours, with all the rest in the world,
are, in thy sight, but a very little thing.
Yet thou deignest to be present in our as-
semblies, and take notice 9f our affairs, which
are very inconsiderable. Let our souls adore
thee, and fall down, with the greatest humi-
lity, at the footstool of thy throne, continu-
ally intreating thy grace, and constantly of-
fering thee glory. Our praises add nothing
to thee ; but they exalt ourselves, enhance
our happiness, and unite us with the society
of angels ; yet thou receivest them with a
gracious hand, as most acceptable sacrifices,
and incense of a sweet-smelling savour. Let
us celebrate thee, O Lord, who art great,
and greatly to be praised. Let all nations
praise thee, from the rising of the sun to the go-
ing down thereof. Set our hearts on fire with
the flames of thy divine love, that they may
wholly ascend to thee as burnt-offerings, and
nothing of ours may remain with us. O !
blessed transmigration, where the blind con-
fidence of the flesh is transformed into a live-
ly and pure faith, that has no dependence
but upon thee alone ; where self-love, and
the love of the world, is exchanged for the
love of thy infinite beauty : when our will
shall centre in thine, and be altogether absorb-
ed by it. Let this change, O bountiful Fa-
• Cum nulia in terrls esset sapientia, c coelo misit
doctorem.
ther, be brought about, for it is a change only
to be effected by the power of thy hand ; and
as soon as our souls are made sensible of it,
thy praise shall be for ever sounded within
us, as in temples devoted to thy service.
Let thy whole church, O Lord, flourish
and rejoice in the light of thy favour. Be
favourable to this our university, city, and
nation. Dispel, we pray thee, the thick
clouds, and quiet the winds and storms ; for
when they rage most, and make the greatest
noise, they know thy voice, and obey it.
Thou art the only God of peace, who creat-
est it with a word, and makest righteous-
ness and peace mutually to kiss one another.
We depend upon thee only ; and to thee
alone we render praise and glory, as far as
we can, through Jesus Christ. Amen.
EXHORTATION IV
OUR life is but a point, and even less than
a point ; but as it is not a mathematical
point, as they call it, nor quite indivisible,
when we divide it into minute parts, it ap-
pears something considerable, and assumes
the imaginary appearance of a large space
of time ; nay, according to Aristotle's no-
tion, it appears divisible in infinitum. Be-
sides those common and idle divisions of hu-
man life, into the four stages of childhood,
youth, manhood, and old age, and into periods
often years, which suppose the yet smaller
divisions of years and months ; men have
many various ways of distributing the periods
of their life, according to the different oc-
cupations and studies they have been engag-
ed in, the remarkable events that have hap-
pened to them, and the several alterations
and revolutions in the course of their lives.
And I doubt not but you, young gentlemen,
look upon this present instant of time as the
beginning of a new period of your life ; you
have my leave to do so, provided you serious*
ly consider, at the same time, that the whole
of the life we live in this world, is of a frail
and fleeting nature, and, in some respect,
nothing at all. And into whatever parts or
periods we divide it, if we consider the mi-
series and lamentable calamities with which
it is fraught, the life, even of a child, may
seem too long ; but, if we consider the time
only, we must conclude the life of the oldest
man to be exceeding short and fleeting.
A great part of mankind no sooner look
upon themselves to be capable of worldly af-
fairs, and think on entering upon some pro-
fession suitable to a state of manhood, but
they are cut off, in the very beginning of
their course, by an unforeseen and untimely
death ; and, to be sure, this is the great dis-
EXHORTATION IV.
627
temper of young, and even of old men, that,
by their desires and designs, they launch
out a great way into futurity, and form a
series of projects for many years to come ;
while, in the mean time, they rarely, or at
least very superficially, consider, how foolish
and precarious it is to depend upon to-mor-
row, and how soon this present form of ours
may disappear ; how soon we may return
to our original dust : " And that very day,"
' as the royal prophet warns us, " our thoughts,
even the wisest and best-concerted thoughts
of the greatest men, and most exalted princes,
perish." And this I take particular notice
of, that no such illusion may get possession
of your minds : for it is not the common sort
of mankind only that impose upon themselves
in this respect, but the generality of those
many words to persuade you to industry, and
a continual progress in human studies, and
philosophical learning. If the violence and
infelicity of the time has deprived you of any
part of that period of years usually employ-
ed in these studies at this university, you
will surely repair that loss, as soon as possi-
ble, by your subsequent reading and appli-
cation. But, if no such misfortune had
happened, you are not, I believe, ignorant,
that our schools are only intended for laying
the foundations of those studies, upon which
years and indefatigable industry are to raise
the superstructure of more complete erudition;
which, by the accession of the Divine Spirit,
may be consecrated into a temple for God.
And this is what I would recommend to
your esteem, and your earnest desires, be-
who desire to be accounted not only men of;yond any other study whatever, " That you
learning, but also adepts in wisdom, and ac-
tually pass for such. Not that 1 would pro-
hibit your making an early and prudent
choice, under the divine direction, of the em-
ployment and profession of life you intend
to pursue ; nay, I would use every argument
to persuade you to make use of such a choice,
and when you have made it, to prosecute the
intention of it with the greatest diligence
and activity. I only put you upon your
guard, not to entertain many and towering
hopes in this world, nor form a long series of
connected projects ; because you will find
them all more vain and fleeting than illusions
of the night : some necessary means will fail,
some favourable opportunity be missed ;
after all your industry, the expected event
may not happen, or the thread of your life
may be cut, and thereby all your projects
rendered abortive, And, though your life
should be drawn out to ever so great a
i kngth, and success constantly answer your
may be holy, because our God is holy ;"
that, when you leave this university, those
with whom you converse, may not find you
puffed up with pride* on account of a little
superficial learning, nor bigotted, talkative,
or fond of entering into unseasonable dis-
putes ; but consider you all as patterns and
examples of piety, purity, temperance, mo-
desty, and all Christian virtues ; particular-
ly that humility that shone so brightly in
Christ himself, and which he earnestly ex-
horts all his disciples to learn from him. I
will not suspect, that any one of you will
turn out to be an immodest person, a glut»
ton or drunkard, or, in any shape, impious
and profane ; but I earnestly exhort and be-
seech you, my dear young men, to make it,
above all other things, your principal study,
to have your hearts purged from all impure
and ignoble love of the world and the flesh,
that, in this earth, you may live to God
only ; and then, to be sure, when you re-
I expectations, yet you know, and I wish you move out of it, you will live with him for
I would remember it, the fatal day will come .ever in heaven.
at last, perhaps when it is least expected ;
and that fatal and final day, I say, will at
last come, when we must leave all our enjoy -
May the honorary title you have this day
received, be happy and auspicious ; but I
earnestly pray the Father of lights, that he
meuts, and all our schemes, those we are i would deign to bestow upon you a title more
[now carrying on, and those we have brought solid and exalted than is in the power of man
|to perfection, as well as those that are only to give, that you may be called the sons of
[begun, and those that subsist only in hopes God, and that your conversation may be suit-
[. and ideas.
And these very arguments, that have been
able to so great a name, and so glorious a
Father.
[used to confine your minds from indulging
themselves in too remote prospects, will also
ve to persuade you, in another sense, to
ok much farther ; not with regard to world-
ly enjoyments, for such prospects, strictly j
jaking, cannot be called long, but to look ed and immovable from everlasting, and will
beyond all earthly and perishing things, continue so throughout all the ages of eterni-
i those that are heavenly and eternal : and ty : before the mountains were brought forth,
lose that will not raise their eyes to such before thou hadst formed the earth and the
bjects, as the apostle Peter expresses it, world, even from everlasting to everlasting,
Let us pray.
ETERNAL King, thy throne is establish-
i'are blind, and cannot see afar oft'."
thou art God. All things that exist, whether
But of you, my dear youths, I expect visible or invisible, derive from thee their
er things ; I need not, I imagine, use being, and all that they possess, and they
EXHORTATIOM V,
all, from the least to the greatest, are subser-
vient to thy purposes, who art their supreme
King and Father ; many of them, indeed,
act without knowledge, or design, yet serve
thee with a constant and unerring obedience ;
others pay their homage from principles of
reason and inclination, and all the rest are
forced to promote thy intentions, though by
constraint, and against their wills. Thou
art great, O Lord, thou art great, and great-
ly to be praised, and of thy greatness there
is no end. The heavens are far raised above
the earth, but thy majesty is much farther
exalted above all our thoughts and concep-
tions. Impress, we pray thee, on our hearts,
most bountiful Father, a profound sense of
our meanness and insignificancy ; and make
us acceptable to thee, through thy grace, in
thy beloved Jesus, blotting out all our sins
by the blood of his cross, and purifying our
hearts by the effusion of thy Spirit from on
high, illuminate, most gracious God, this
assembly of ours by the light of thy divine
favour, and let thy effectual blessing, we pray
thee, attend the work we are now employed
about, (by thy approbation, and the gracious
disposition of thy providence,) and may the
result of all be to the glory of thy name,
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
EXHORTATION V.
THE complaint, with regard to the variety
of all perishing and transitory enjoyments,
which has been long general among mankind,
is indeed just and well-founded ; but it is
no less true, that the vanity which resides in
the heart of man himself, exceeds every
thing of that kind we observe in the other
parts of the visible creation : For, among all
the creatures that we see around us, we can
find nothing so fleeting and inconsistent ; it
flutters hither and thither, and, forsaking
that only perfect good which is truly suited
10 its nature and circumstances, grasps at
phantoms and shadows of happiness, which
it pursues with a folly more than childish.
Man wanders about on this earth ; he
hopes, he wishes, he seeks, he gropes and
feels about him ; he desires ; he is hot, he
is cold, be is blind, and complains that evil
abounds every where ; yet he is, himself,
the cause of those evils which rage in the
world, but most of all in his own breast ;
and therefore being tossed between the waves
thereof, that roll continually within and with-
out him, he leads a restless and disordered
life, until he be at last swallowed up in the
unavoidable gulf of death. It is, moreover,
the shame and folly* of the human race,
that the greatest part of them do not resolve
upon any fixed and settled method of life,
but, like the brute creatures, live and die
without design, and without proposing any
reasonable end. For how few are there, that
seriously and frequently consider with them-
selves, whence they came, whither they are
going, and what is the purpose of their life ;
who are daily reviewing the state of their own
minds, and often descend into themselves,
that they may as frequently ascend, by their
thoughts and meditations, to their exalted
Father, and their heavenly country ; who
take their station upon temporal things, and
view those that are eternal ! Yet these are
the only men that can be truly said to live,
and they only can be accounted wise.
And to this it is, my dear youths, that I
would willingly engage your souls ; nay, I
heartily wish they were carried thither by
the fiery chariots of celestial wisdom. Let
the common sort of mankind admire mean
things ; let them place their hopes enriches,
honours and arts, and spend their lives in the
pursuit of them ; but let your souls be in-
flamed with a far higher ambition. Yet I
would not altogether prohibit you these pur-
suits ; I only desire you to be moderate in
them. These enjoyments are neither great
in themselves, nor permanent ; but it is sur-
prising, how much vanity is inflated by them.
What a conceited, vain nothing, is the crea-
ture we call man ! For, because few are ca-
pable of discerning true blessings, which are
solid and intrinsically beautiful, therefore the
superficial ones, and such as are of no value
at all, are catched at ; and those who, in any
measure, attain to the possession of them, are
puffed up and elated thereby.
If we consider things as they are, it is an
evidence of a very wrong turn of mind to
boast of titles and fame, as they are no part
of ourselves, nor can we depend upon them.
But he that is elevated with a fond conceit
of his own knowledge, is a stranger to the
nature of things, and particularly to himself ;
since he knows not that the highest pitch of
human knowledge ought, in reality, rather
to be called ignorance. How small and in-
considerable is the extent of our knowledge !
Even the most contemptible things in nature
are sufficient to expose the greatness of our
ignorance. And with respect to divine
things, who dares to deny, " that the know,
ledge mankind have of them, is next to
nothing ?"* Because the weak eyes of out
understanding, confined, as they are, within
such narrow houses of clay, cannot bear the
piercing light of divine things ; therefore
the Fountain of all wisdom hath thought
proper to communicate such imperfect dis-
coveries of himself, as are barely sufficient
to direct our steps to the superior regions^*
* 'Sit tv^it at/Sfuxoifi tan Sliut reufit*
T TiTtjrtja JOI,U«TO..
EXHORTATION VI.
629
of perfect light. And whoever believes this
truth, will, doubtless, make it his chief care
and principal study, constantly to follow this
lamp of divine light, that shines in darkness,
and not to deviate from it, either to the right
hand or to the left. It is, indeed, my opi-
nion, that no man of ingenuity ought to de-
spise the study of philosophy, or the know-
ledge of languages, or grammar itself;
though, to be sure, a more expeditious and
successful method of teaching them were
much to be wished : but what I would re-
commend with the greatest earnestness, and
persuade you to, if possible, is, that you
would inseparably unite with such measures
of learning and improvements of your minds
as you can attain, purity of religion, divine
j love, moderation of soul, and an agreeable,
inoffensive behaviour. For you are not igno-
rant, what a low and empty figure the highest
! attainments in human sciences must make,
j if they be compared with the dignity and
, duration of the soul of man ; for however
• considerable they may be in themselves, yet,
i with regard to their use, and their whole
1 design, they are confined within the short
I space of this perishing life. But the soul,
t which reasons, which is employed in learning
[ and teaching, in a few days will for ever bid
farewell to all these things, and remove to
| another country. O how inconsiderable are
all arts and sciences, all eloquence and phi-
losophy, when compared with a cautious con-
cern that our last exit out of this world may
t»e happy and auspicious, and that we may
depart out of this life candidates of immor-
tality, at which we can never arrive but by
the beautiful way of holiness.
Let us pray.
INFINITE and eternal God, who inhabit-
cst thick darkness, and light inaccessible,
whom no mortal hath seen, nor can see ; yet
all thy works evidently declare and proclaim
thy wisdom, thy power, and thy infinite
goodness. And, when we contemplate these
thy perfections, what is it our souls can de-
sire, but that they may love thee, worship
thee, serve thee, for ever proclaim thy praises,
and .celebrate thy exalted name, which is
above all praise, and all admiration ? Thy
throne is constantly surrounded with thou-
sands and ten thousands of glorified spirits,
who continually adore thee, and cry out,
without ceasing, Holy, holy, holy, Lord
God Almighty, who was, who is, and who
is to come. Let others seek what they will,
and find and embrace what they can ; may
we have always this one fixed and settled
purpose, that it is good for us to draw near
to God. Let the seas roar, the earth be
shaken, and all things go to ruin and con-
fusion ; yet the soul that adheres to Go«l
will remain safe and quiet, and shall not be
moved for ever. O blessed soul ! that has
thee for its rest, and all its salvation ; it shall
be like a tree planted by the rivers of water,
it shall not fear when heat cometh, nor shall
it be uneasy in a year of drought. It is our
earnest petition and prayer, O Father, that
thy hands may loosen all our chains, and
effectually deliver our souls from all the
snares and allurements of the world and the
flesh, and that, by that same bountiful and
most powerful hand of thine, they may be
for ever united to thee, through thy only be-
gotten Son, who is our union and our peace.
Be favourably present, most gracious God,
with this assembly of ours, that whatever we
undertake, in obedience to thy will, may be
carried to perfection by the aid of thy grace,
and tend to the glory of thy name, through
Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
EXHORTATION VI.
I AM not ignorant, that it is one of the
common arts of life, to set off our own things
with all the pomp we can ; and if there is
any worth in them, by no means to deprecate
it, but rather to endeavour, with all OUT
might, to enhance their value as much as
possible ; nay, those of them which are quite
vain and worthless, we use to magnify with
pompous expressions, and daub with false
colours, and to do otherwise is reckoned a
kind of rustic simplicity. But you, young
gentlemen, who are acquainted with my
manner, will, I imagine, easily forgive this
indifference of mine ; and therefore I say, if
there are any that despise these performances
of ours, we leave them at full liberty, for we
ourselves held them in contempt before;
but, to speak freely, together with them, We
undervalued all worldly things : " They are
all made of the same mean materials."*
O life, short with regard to duration, long
in consideration of thy miseries, involved in
darkness, beset with snares, still fluctuating
between false joys and real torments, ground-
less hopes and fears equally imaginary, yet
foolishly, and even to distraction, loved by
most. We will not die, and yet we know
not how to live. Our present possessions
are loathsome as food to a man in a fever,
and we greedily catch at future enjoyments,
which, when they come to be present, will
be received with the same indifference : for,
among the advantages of this fleeting life,
nothing is equally agreeable to those who
have it in possession, and those who have it
only in desire and hope.
We are all in general of such a nature,
630
EXHORTATION VI.
that we arc weary of ourselves, and, what we
lately preferred to every thing else, upon ex-
perience we reject. This inconstancy is un-
doubtedly a sign of a mind distempered,
forcibly drawn away from its centre, and se-
parated from its only durable rest. Nor
need you go far, young gentlemen, to look
for an instance of this distemper ; let any of
you descend into himself, (which very few
do, and even they but rarely,) he will find
it within him : upon a very slight inquiry,
he will surely be sensible of it ; for, passing
other considerations, with what fervent wish-
es have you, in your hearts, longed for this
day ! Yet I forewarn you, that all your plea-
sure will either die with the day itself, which
is now fast drawing to a close, or but for a
very short time survive it. And, as com-
monly happens, it will be succeeded by the
anxious cares of beginning life, as it were,
anew, or, which is much more grievous and
unhappy, and from which, I earnestly pray,
you may be all effectually preserved, by those
temptations and allurements of vice which
tend to debauch and ruin you ; for these
allurements, after the manner of some robbers,
attack the unwary and unexperienced with
blandishments and caresses, that thereby they
may have an opportunity to undo them. If
therefore, as soon as ye enter upon a life of
freedom, those deceitful and deadly pleasures
of sense tempt you with their delusive smiles,
I would put you in mind, how unworthy it
is of a free and generous mind, especially that
of a Christian, to become an abject slave,
and submit to the most shameful bondage ;
how disgraceful and wretched a choice it is,
to become the slave of a mad, distracted
master ;* and how much more generous and
exalted is the pleasure of despising them all,
and trampling them under foot, when they
come in competition with the pure and per-
manent delights of divine love !
As to exalted degrees of honour, and heaps
of riches, the idols of all ranks of mankind,
which they worship with the rage of enthu-
siasm and madness, we not only apply to
them what was observed of old concerning
Hercules' statue, and say, " they have no-
thing divine in them ;"•(• but also, that they
are entirely void of real goodness. Even
those who have the greatest experience of
them, are at last obliged to own this : the
force of truth extorts the confession, though
they make it with regret and against their
will. All the beauty and brightness of these j
idols resemble the decorations of a stage,
that dazzle the eyes of the vulgar, and the
enjoyment of them is in reality but a splen.
did kind of slavery, and gilded misery. It
is a pathetic expression of St. Bernard, " O !
ambition, the torture of the ambitious, how
happens it, that though thou tormentest all,
* AeuXo» "/it'-trO*.! TK°xf°vnuvTt; tiurtfOTW-
A 'flf tvtlr tiffl .9-|ia».
thou yet makest thyself agreeable to all ?"*
O how easily does even the least glimpse of
eternal and infinite beauty raze out of the
mind all the impressions made upon it by
the objects we daily converse with on this
earth, and turn its admiration of them into
contempt and disdain !
But if any one, having thoroughly examin-
ed and despised these shadows, resolves sole-
ly to pursue a more complete knowledge of
things and follow the streams of learning,
we cannot deny, that he judges more justly ;
yet, after all, must know, if he is wise, or at
least he ought to know, that he may be wise,
" what vanity and superfluity is to be met
with even here :"•)• for often, when one has
applied himself to his books and studies
with the greatest assiduity, and almost spent
his life upon them, all his pains evaporate
into smoke, and the labour of years is en-
tirely lost. And, what is most of all to be
lamented, this is sometimes the case with
respect to theology, which is the chief of all
arts and sciences, as so large a portion of
that vineyard is still possessed with briars
and thorns. How many are the disputes
and controversies, how many the trifling ar-
guments and cavils, which possibly may
have something of the sharpness of thorns,
but undoubtedly a great deal of their barren-
ness and their hurtful quality ! A philoso-
pher of old severely reproves the sophisters of
his time in these words : " What was for-
merly the love of wisdom, is now become the
love of words."$ We, to be sure, may sub-
stitute, in place of this, a complaint still
more bitter, that what was theology before,
is now become foolish talking ; and that
many of our divines, though they serve one
God, and that the God of peace, " yet split
into parties upon the lightest occasions, and
with great impiety divide the whole world
into factions."! And I am much afraid,
this evil, in a great measure, derives its origi-
nal from the education of youth in schools
and colleges. For the most part of men
manage this business, as if disputing was
the end of learning, as fighting is the design
of going to war : hence the youth, when
they enter the school, begin disputing, which
never ends but with their life. Death im-
poses silence, and so, at last, " these fierce
passions of their minds, and these inveterate
contentions, are composed to rest by the
weight of a little dust thrown upon them."||
As for you, young gentlemen, if my ear-
nest wishes and sincere advice can have any
weight with you, you will early extricate
* O ! ambitio, ambientiuin crux, quomodo omnes
torquens omnibus places ?
t II«>.A« la-ri xtMO. xa.i trlfilfya.
t Quze philosophia fuit, facta philologia est.
"
.. .
\, Hi motus anirnorum, atque hasc certamina tanta
Pulveris exigui jactu compressa quiescunt.
VrRG. Geon;. iv
EXHORTATION VII.
631
vourselves out of these flames of contention, I of the world, which, to speak my sentiments
.1... :~A. !,„:„„ u_i.^ .._u_.i.-l!n a fewwordSj are for the most part out-
that your minds, being lighted up by the
pure and celestial fire of the Divine Spirit,
may shine forth in holiness, and burn with
the most fervent charity.
Let us pray.
HONOUR and praise are due to thee, O
infinite God ! This is the universal voice of
all the blessed spirits on high, and all the
saints on earth : Worthy art thou, O Lord,
to receive glory, and honour, and power, be-
cause thou hast created all things, and for
thy pleasure they are. We, here before
thee, with united hearts and affections, offer
thee, as we can, the sacrifice of gratitude,
love, and praise. How much are we indebt-
possess ! for in thee we live, move, and have
our being. Thou hast redeemed us from
our sins, having given the Son of thy love,
as a sacrifice and ransom for our souls ; the
chastisement of our peace fell upon him, and
by his stripes we are healed. On this con-
sideration, we acknowledge, we are no longer
at our own disposal, since we are bought
with a price, and so very great a price, that
we may glorify thee, O Father, and thy Son,
in our souls and our bodies, which are so
justly thine. May we devote ourselves to
thee, through the whole remaining part of
our life, and disdain the impure and ignoble
slavery of sin, the world, and the flesh, that,
in all things, we may demean ourselves as
becomes the sons of God, and the heirs of
thy celestial kingdom, and make, daily,
greater progress in our journey towards the
happy possession thereof.
Bless thy church, and our nation, and
this our university : may it be thine, we pray
thee. We entreat thou wouldest become our
father, our protector, and our supreme teach-
er, who hast thy chair in heaven, and teach-
est the hearts of men on this earth. May
the youth flourish under thy instruction,
that they may be not only learned, but espe-
cially upright, pious, and true Christians,
entirely devoted to th« honour of thy name,
through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen,
EXHORTATION VII.
THESE academical exercises of ours are,
to be sure, no great matter, nor do we make
any high account of them ; yet, after all, we
set no higher, perhaps even a less value, up-
on the bustling affairs of mankind, which
make a much greater noise, and the farces
that are acted upon the more exalted theatres
wardly more pompous than these of ours, but
"nwardly equally vain, and more insignificant
han the busy amusements of children play-
ng on the sands, and eagerly building little
louses, which, with giddy levity, they in-
stantly pull down again.* Or if you choose
to be more severe upon the fruitless labours
of mankind, and their busy and irregular
motions backward and forward, and from one
dace to another, you may, with a great man,
that knew all these things by experience,
compare them to the fluttering of 'frightened
flies, the toilsome hurry of the ants, and the
motions of puppett. -f But he that, amidst
all the confusions and commotions which
lappen in human affairs here below, has re-
course to divine contemplation, and the hopes
of eternity, as the lofty, impregnable tower
of true wisdom, " is the only person that en-
oys uninterrupted ease and tranquillity, like
the heavenly bodies, which constantly move
on in their orbits, and are never, by any vio-
lence, diverted from their course."^
And, indeed, what wonder is it, that he
can easily view all the dreadful appearances
of this wretched life, with a resolute and
steady countenance, who, by frequent inter-
views and daily conversation with death it-
self, which we call the king of terror*, § has
rendered it familiar to him, and thereby not
only divested it of its terrors, but also placed
it in a beautiful, pleasant, and quite amiable
light. By this means, he dies daily, and,
doubtless, before he surfers a natural death,
he dies in a more exalted sense of the word,
by withdrawing, as fur as is possible, his
mind from the incumbrance of earthly things,
and, even while it lodges in the body, wean.
ing it from all the worldly objects that are
placed about him. And, in this very sense,
philosophy of old was most properly called
the meditation of death, || which the Roman
orator has, in my opinion, explained with
great propriety, and the precision of a philo-
sopher. " What is it we do," says he,
" when we withdraw the mind from pleasure,
that is, the body, from our means and sub-
stance that is the servant of the body, that
provides for its wants, from the common-
Wealth, and every kind of business ; what is
it we then do, I say, but recall it to itself,
and oblige it to stay at home ? Now, to
withdraw the mind from the body, is no-
thing else but to learn to die."^f Let us,
* 'fit in TIP l
'Oi JTH an
Aij/ xv9i:
•f Mtij?ia» ifr
«flu{.u.«T«, nft
t rtrn xtu X,'.{f
*0v(/i
± Otia solus agit, sicut ccelesba semper
Inroncussasuo volvuntursideralapsu. Luc. lib II-
S 4>eixaStrr«Tiii »*»•• I MfAlT») &*»«««.
*i Quid aliud aginius, cum a voluptate, id est a cor-
pore, cum a re familiari qua? ministra est et famula
corporis, cum a republics, cum a negotio omni severa,
mus animum, <iuia turn agimus (inquam) nisi Uliuu.
EXHORTATION VII.
therefore, reason thus, if you will take my
advice, and separate ourselves from our bodies,
that is, let us accustom ourselves to die :
this, even while we sojourn on this earth,
will be to the soul a life like to that which
it will enjoy in heaven, and, being delivered
rate, the course of our souls will be less re-
tarded in our journey to that happy place, at
which, when we arrive, we can then, and
tnen only, be truly said to live ; for this life
is but a kind of death, the miseries whereof
gladness springing from on high. And
this is the man that is truly possessed of
that tranquillity and happy disposition of
mind,* which the Philosophers boast of,
the Divines recommend, but few attain.
And though he will neither willingly suffer
himself to be called a philosopher, nor a phi-
lologer, yet he is, in reality, well versed in
the things of God,-\- and, by a kind of di-
vine influence and instruction,^ has attain-
ed to the light of pure and peaceable truth ;
where he passes his days in the greatest
I could paint, if it were seasonable ; but, to quietness and serenity, far above the cloudy
be sure, it was most justly called a life of and stormy regions of controversy and dispu-
the greatest misery* by Dionysius the Areo- tation.
pagite, or whoever was the author of that
book that goes under his name.
And, indeed, young gentlemen, I am of
opinion, that such a view and meditation of
death will not be unsuitable, or improper,
even for you, though you are in the prime of
life, and your minds in their full vigour ;
nay, I would gladly hope, you yourselves
will not imagine it would, nor be at all of-
fended at me, as if, by mentioning that
inauspicious word unseasonably, I disturbed
your present joy, drew a kind of black cloud
over this bright day of festivity, or seemed
to mix among your laurels, a branch of the
hated cypress. For a wise man would not
willingly owe his joy to madness, nor think
it a pleasure, foolishly to forget the situation
of his affairs.
The wise man alone feels true joy, and
real wisdom is the attainment of a Christian
only, who bears with life, but hopes for
death ; and passes through all the storms
and tempests of the former with an undaunt-
ed mind, but with the most fervent wishes
looks for the latter, as the secure port, and the
fair havens-^ in the highest sense of the ex-
pression ; whose mind is humble, and, at the
same time, exalted, neither depending upon
foreign, that is, external advantages, nor
puffed up with his own ; and neither elevat-
ed nor depressed by any turns or vicissitudes
of fortune.
He is the wise man who relishes
things
as they really are ; who is not, with the com-
mon sort of mankind, that are always chil-
dren, terrified by bugbears, nor pleased with
painted rattles ; who has a greatness of soul,
vastly superior to all fading and perishing
things ; who judges of his improvements by
his life, and thinks he knows every thing
he does not covet, and every thing he does
not fear. The only thing he desires, is
the favoui and countenance of the Supreme
King ; the only thing he fears, is his dis-
pleasure ; and, without doubt, a mind of
this cast must, of necessity, be the habita-
tion of constant serenity, exalted joy, and
ad seipsum advccamus, et secum esse cogimus ? Se-
cernereautem acorpore animum, necquicquam aliud
est quam emori discere.
* TttKirrctdiTTtt.™,* Zur,t. t K«X»Uf '/.luwote
If any of you has been thus instructed,
he has certainly attained the highest of all
arts, and has entered upon the most glorious
liberty, even before he hath received any
University degree. But the rest, though
they are presently to have the title of Master
of Arts, still continue a silly, servile set of
men, under a heavy yoke of bondage, where-
by even their minds will be cramped with
oppressive laws, far more intolerable than
any discipline, however severe. None of
you, I imagine, is so excessively blinded
with self -conceit, § so ignorant of the nature
of things, and unacquainted with himself,
as to dream that he is already a philosopher,
or be puffed up with an extravagant opinion
of his own knowledge, because he has gone
through the ordinary exercises at the Univer-
sity ; though, to speak the truth, the philo-
sophy which prevails in the schools, is of a
vain, airy nature, and more apt to inspire the
mind with pride, than to improve it. As it
is my earnest prayer, so it is also the object
of my hope, that you will retire from the
Seminary, with your minds excited to a keen
and wholesome thirst after true erudition,
rather than blown up with the wildfire of
science, falsely so called : and, what of all
other attainments is of greatest consequence,
that you will leave us, deeply affected with
the most ardent love of heavenly wisdom.
Whatever may be your fate, with respect to
other things, it is my earnest request, that it
may be your highest ambition and your prin-
cipal study, to be true Christians ; that is,
to be humble, meek, pure, holy, and follow-
ers of your most auspicious Captain, the
Lamb, wherever he goeth ; for he that fol-
loweth him shall not walk in darkness, but
be conducted, through the morning light of
Divine grace, to the meridian and never-end-
ing brightness of glory.
Let us pray.
ETERNAL Father of mercies and of lights,
he only rest of the immortal souls which thou
* Kufo^'O" **' y«Xri"/iv. t (titrate
t Vfiif Tin l&ti'ix *«< SiJ«X«I- § AidaZt
EXHORTATION VIII.
G33
hast created, and their never-failing consola-
tion, into what by-paths of error do our
souls divert, and to what dangers are they
exposed on every hand, when they stray away
from thee ! But while they keep within thy
hiding-place, O Most High, they are safe
under the shadow of thy wings. O how
happy are they, and how well do they live,
who pass their whole lives in that secret
abode, where they may continually refresh
themselves with the delicious fruits of thy
love, and shew forth thy praise ; where they
may taste and see that thou art good, O
liorA, and be thoroughly persuaded of the
immense riches of thy bounty, which all our
miseries cannot exceed, nor our poverty ex-
haust ; nay, which the constant effusion of
them upon the whole universe, and all its
parts, cannot in the least diminish ! As
for us, who are before thee, the most unwor-
thy of all thy creatures, yet at the same time,
the most excessively loaded with all the in-
stances of thy goodness, can we avoid crying
out with the united voices of our hearts,
Let praise be ascribed to the Lord, because
he is good, and his mercy endureth for ever ?
Who shall declare the great and wonderful
works of God, who shall shew forth his
praise; whorulethbyhispowerforever, and his
eyes observe the nations, that the rebellious
may not exalt themselves ; who restores our
souls to life, and suffers not our feet to be
moved ? But, on the other hand, alas ! how
justly may our songs be interrupted with bit-
ter lamentations, that, under such strong and
constant rays of his bounty, our hearts are so
cold towards him ! O how faint and languid
is our love to him ! How very little, or near
to nothing, is the whole of that flame which
we feel within us ; and, as that love fails
within us, we misplace our affections upon
the things around us ; and as we follow
vanity, we become vain and miserable at the
same time. But may thy Spirit, O Lord,
whom we humbly and earnestly beg of thee,
descending into our hearts, inspire us tho-
roughly with life, vigour, and celestial purity,
Please to enlighten thy church throughout
the whole habitable world, and particularly
in these islands, with the continued light oi
thy countenance : if thou apply thy healing
hand, we shall presently be whole ; nor need
we look to any quarter for other remedies
than those we have always found to be more
powerful than our most obstinate distempers.
Bless this city, and this celebrated university.
Grant, most gracious Father, that the num-
bers of youth we send out from it this day,
and every year, may be, by thy effectual
grace, consecrated and devoted to thy service.
| Forbid, we pray thee, that they should either
i be the means of spreading pollution among
j thy people, or suffer themselves to be tainted
I with the infection of a wicked world ; but
I let this fountain of learning be continually
enriched with thy heavenly influences, that
it may constantly supply pure and limpid
streams, for the welfare and improvement of
thy church and people, to the glory of thy
exalted name, through our Lord Jesus Christ ;
to whom, with thee, and the Holy Spirit, be
honour, praise, and glory, world without
end. Amen.
EXHORTATION VIIL
AMIDST these amusements, we are unhap-
pily losing a day. Yet some part of the
weight of this complaint is removed, when
we consider, that, while the greatest part of
mankind are bustling in crowds, and places
of traffic, or, as they would have us believe,
in affairs of great importance, we are trifling
our time more innocently than they. But
what should hinder us from closing this last
scene in a serious manner, that is, from turn-
ing our eyes to more divine objects, whereby,
though we are fatigued with other matters,
we may terminate the work of this day, and
the day itself, agreeably ; as the beams of
the sun use to give more than ordinary de-
light, when he is near his setting ?
You are now initiated into the philosophy,
such as it is, that prevails in the schools,
and, I imagine, intend, with all possible dis.
patch, to apply to higher studies. But O !
how pitiful and scanty are all those things
which beset us before, behind, and on every
side ! The bustling we observe, is nothing
but the hurrying of ants eagerly engaged in
their little labours. The mind must surely
have degenerated, and forgotten its original
as effectually as if it had drunk of the river
Lethe, if, extricating itself out of all these
mean concerns and designs, as so many
snares laid for it, and rising above the whole
of this visible world, it does not return to its
Father's bosom, where it may contemplate
his eternal beauty, where contemplation will
inflame love, and love be crowned with the
possession of the beloved object. But, in
the contemplation of this glorious object,
how great caution and moderation of mind
is necessary, that, by prying presumptuously
into his secret councils, or his nature, and
rashly breaking into the sanctuary of light,9
we be not quite involved in darkness ! And,
with regard to what the infinite, indepen-
dent, and necessarily existent Being,-\ has
thought proper to communicate to us con-
cerning himself, and we are concerned to
know, even that is by no means to be ob-
scured by curious, impertinent questions,
nor perplexed with the arrogance of disputa-
tion ; because bj such means, instead of
* E;i T* rtv fart; alum- t TV tin* em.
634
EXHORTATION VIII.
enlarging our knowledge, we are in the fair
way to know nothing at all ; but readily to
be received by humble faith, and entertained
with meek and pious affections. And if in
these notices of him, that are communicated
to us, we meet with any thing obscure, and
hard to be understood, such difficulties will
be happily got over, not by perplexed con-
troversies, but by constant and fervent prayer.
" He will come to understand," says, ad-
mirably well, the famous bishop of Hippo,*
" who knocks by prayer, not he who, by
quarrelling, makes a noise at the gate of
truth. "-J- But what can we, who are mortal
creatures, understand, with regard to the in-
expressible Being we now speak of, espe-
cially while we sojourn in these dark prisons
of clay, but only this, that we can by no
means comprehend him ? For though, in
thinking of him, we remove from our idea
all sort of imperfection, and collect together
every perceivable perfection, and adore the.
whole with the highest titles, we must,
after all, acknowledge, that we have said
nothing, and that our conceptions are no-
thing to the purpose. Let us, therefore, in
general acknowledge him to be the immov-
able Being, that moveth every thing; the
immutable God, that changeth all things at
his pleasure ; the infinite and eternal foun-
tain of all good, and of all existence, and the
Lord and sole ruler of the world.
If you, then, my dear youths, aspire to
genuine Christianity, that is, the knowledge
of God and divine things,J I would have
you consider, that the mind must first be
recalled, and engaged to turn in upon itself,
before it can be raised up towards God, ac-
cording to that expression of St. Bernard,
" May I return from external things to those
that are within myself, and from these again
rise to those that are of a more exalted na-
ture.'^ But the greatest part of men live
abroad, and are, truly, strangers at home ;
you may sooner find them any where, than
with themselves. Now, is not this real mad-
ness, and the highest degree of insensibility ?
Yet, after all, they seem to have some
reason in their madness, when they thus stray
away from themselves, since they can see no-
thing within them that, by its promising as-
pect, can give them pleasure or delight.
Every thing there is ugly, frightful, and full
of nastiness, which they would rather be ig-
norant of, than be at the pains to purge away ;
and therefore prefer a slothful forgetfulness I
of their misery, to the trouble and labour of
regaining happiness. But how preposterous
is the most diligent study and the highest
knowledge, when we neglect that of our-
* St Augustine.
f Intclliget qui orando pulsati non qui rixando ob-
strepit ad ostium veritatis.
t &tOfHflOLV-
{ Ab exterioribus adinteriora redeam, ab interiori-
bus ad superioraascendam.
selves ! The Roman philosopher, ridiculing
the grammarians of his time, observes,
" that they inquired narrowly into f.he mis-
fortunes of Ulysses, but were quite ignorant
of their own."* The sentiments of a wise
and pious man are quite different, and I
wish you may adopt them. It is his princi-
pal care to be thoroughly acquainted with
himself, he watches over his own ways, he
improves and cultivates his heart as a garden,
nay, a garden consecrated to the King of
kings, who takes particular delight in it ; he
carefully nurses the heavenly plants and
flowers, and roots up all the wild and noxious
weeds, that he may be able to say, with the
greater confidence, " Let my beloved come
into his own garden, and be pleased to eat of
his fruits." And when, upon this invitation,
the great King, in the fulness of his good-
ness, descends into the mind, the soul may
then easily ascend with him, as it were, in a
chariot of fire, and look down upon the earth,
and all earthly things, with contempt and
disdain : " Then rising above the rainy re-
gions, it sees the storms falling beneath its
feet, and tramples upon the hidden thun-
der."f
Let us pray.
WHATEVEU satisfaction we look for with-
out thee, O heavenly Father, is mere delu-
sion and vanity ; yet, though we have so
often experienced this, we have not, to this
day, learned to renounce this vain and fruit-
less labour, that we may depend upon thee,
who alone canst give full and complete satis-
faction to the souls of men. We pray, there-
fore, that by thy Almighty hand, thou would-
est so effectually join and unite our hearts to
thee, that they may never be separated any
more. How unhappy are they who forsake
thee, and whose hearts depart from thy ways !
They shall be like shrubs in the desert, they
shall not see when good cometh, but dwell
in a parched and barren land. Blessed, on
the contrary, is he who hath placed hi* con-
fidence in thee ; he shall be like a tree plant-
ed by the rivers of water, he shall not be
afraid when heat cometh, nor be uneasy in
the time of drought. Take from us, O Lord,
whatever earthly enjoyments thou shalt think
proper ; there is one thing will abundantly
make up all our losses, let Christ dwell in
our hearts by faith, and the rays of thy fa-
vour continually refresh us in the face of
thine Anointed ; in this event, we have no-
thing more to ask, but, with grateful minds,
shall for ever celebrate thy bounty, and all
our bones shall say, Who is like unto thee,
O Lord, who is like unto thee ?
* Ulyssis mala explorant, ignorant sua.
t Celsior exsurgens pluviis, nimbosque cadentes
Sub pedibus cernens, et cceca tonitrua calcans.
VALEDICTORY ORATION.
683
Let thy church be glad in thee, and all in
this nation, and every where throughout the
world, that regard and love thy name ; by
the power and efficacy of the gospel, may
iheir number be daily augmented, and let
the gifts of thy grace be also increased in
them all. Bless this university : let it be
like a garden watered by thy heavenly hand,
that thy tender shoots may grow, and in due
time produce abundant fruit, to the eternal
honour of thy most glorious name, through
our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
VALEDICTORY ORATION.
THOUGH this, I imagine, is the last ad-
dress I shall ever have occasion to make to
you, I will not detain you long from your
studies, nor encroach on the time allowed
you for recreation. This is, to be sure, the
first time that some of you have heard me ;
but I have a great many others to bear wit-
ness of the constant design of all my disser-
tations in this place. They will testify, that
the intention of all my discourses was, " that
Ihe form of sound words,"* that is, the Chris-
tian doctrine, and consequently the fear and
love of God, might not only be impressed,
but also engraven upon your hearts in last-
ing and indelible characters ; and that you
might not only admit as a truth, but also
pay the highest regard to this indisputable
maxim, " that piety and religion is the only
real good among men."-f- Moreover, that
your minds might be the less encumbered
in their application to this grand study of
religion, and the more expeditious in their
progress therein, I constantly endeavoured,
with all possible warmth, to divert you from
those barren and thorny questions and dis-
putes,
logy
that have infected the whole of theo-
and this at a time, when the greatest
part of divines and professors, and those of no
small reputation, engaging furiously in such
controversies, " have split into parties, and
unhappily divided the whole world, "j It
was my constant practice to establish those
great and uncontroverted articles of our holy
religion, which are but few and clear ; some
part whereof are confirmed by the common
consent of nations, and of all the human
race ; and all the rest by the unanimous
voice of the whole Christian world. Of the
first sort are those we have often advanced in
treating of the being and perfections of the
One supreme and eternal Principle, and the
production of all things by him ; the conti-
nual preservation and government of the world
t 'Orj it xxi /j.nn it
av0;o>r«; «y«9«» i) IvnSuat,
fur i\n niMtora a9irp.au.
by his providence ; the law of God given to
mankind, and the rewards and punishments
annexed to it. The other class of the grand
articles of religion are indeed peculiar to
Christian Philosophy, but believed in com-
mon by all the professors of that religion.
These are the great foundations of our faith,
and of all our hope and joy, with regard to
the incarnation of the Son of God, his death
and resurrection for the destruction of sin,
and consequently of death ; his ascension
into the highest heavens, with that same
flesh of ours, in which he died, and his exal-
tation there above all ranks of angels, domi-
nions, and thrones, &c.; whence we expect
he will return in great glory, in that day,
when he will be glorious in all his saints,
and admired in those that believe. As many,
therefore, as desire to receive him in this his
last manifestation, with joy and exultation,
must of necessity be holy, and, in confor-
mity to their most perfect and glorious Head,
sober, pious, upright, and live in full con-
tempt of this perishing transitory world, their
own mortal flesh, and the sordid pleasures
of both : in a word, all the enjoyments which
the mean and servile admire, they must
trample under foot and despise. For who-
ever will strive for this victory, and strive so
as at last to obtain it, the Lord will own him
for his servant, and the great Master will ac-
knowledge him for his disciple. He will at-
tain a likeness to God in this earth, and,
after a short conflict, will triumph in the
Divine presence for ever. These are the doc-
trines which it is our interest to know, and
in the observation of which our happiness
will be secured. To these you will turn
your thoughts, young gentlemen, if you are
wise ; nay, to these you ought to give due at-
tention, that you may be wise : those phantoms
we catch at, fly away ; this shadow of a life
we now live, is likewise on the wing. Those
things that are without the verge of sense,
and above its reach, are the only solid and
lasting enjoyments. " Why are ye fond of
these earthly things," says St. Bernard,
" which are neither true riches, nor are they
yours ? If they are yours," continues he,
" take them with you."* And Lactantius
admirably well observes, that, " whoever pre-
fers the life of the soul, must, of necessity,
despise that of the body ; nor can he aspire
to the highest good, unless he despise ad-
vantaged of an inferior kind. For the all-
wise God did not choose that we should at.
tain to immortality in a soft, indolent way,
but that we should gain that inexpressible
reward of eternal life with the highest diffi-
culty and severest labour."-f And, that you
• Quid terrenahsec amplectimini, quae nee verae divi-
tise stint, nee vestrae ? Si vestrse sunt, tollite vobiscum.
f Quisquis animjE vitam maluerit, corporis vitani
contemnat neresse est, nee alitcr asnirare adsummum
potent bonum. nisi quse sunt ima despexerit Noluit
enim sapientissimus Deus, not immorulitatem deli-
VALEDICTORY OR'ATION.
may not be discouraged, remember the great
Redeemer of souls, your exalted Captain,
hath gone before you, and we have to do
with an enemy already conquered. Let us
only follow him with courage and activity,
and we have no ground to doubt of victory.
And indeed it is a victory truly worthy of a
Christian, to subdue the barbarous train ol
our appetites, and subject them to the empire
of reason and religion ; while, on the other
hand, it is the most shameful bondage to
have the more divine part of our composition
meanly subjected to an ignoble, earthly body.
Now, this victory can only be secured by
stedfast believing, vigorous opposition to our
spiritual enemies, unwearied watching, and
incessant prayer. Let prayer be not only the
key that opens the day, and the lock that
shuts out the night ; but let it be also, from
morning to night, our staff and stay in all our
labours, and to enable us to go cheerfully up
into the mount of God. Prayer brings con-
solation to the languishing soul, drives away
the devil, and is the great medium, whereby
all grace and peace is communicated to us.
With regard to your reading, let it be your
particular care to be familiarly acquainted
with the Sacred Scriptures above all other
books whatever ; for from thence you will
truly derive light for your direction, and
sacred provisions for your support on your
journey. In subordination to these you may
also use the writings of pious men that are
agreeable to them ; for these also you may
improve to your advantage, and particularly
that little book of & Kempis, Of the Imi-
tation of Christ,* " since the sum and sub-
stance of religion consists in imitating the
Being that
ship."-}-
is the object of your wor-
May our dear Redeemer Jesus impress
upon your minds a lively representation of
his own meek and immaculate heart, that,
in that great and last day, he may, by this
mark, know you to be his, and, together
with all the rest of his sealed and redeemed
ones, admit you into the mansions of eternal
bliss. Amen.
cate ac inolliter assequi, sed ad illud vita; eternae in-
enarrabile premium sumnia cum diflicultate, et
magnis laboribus pcrvenire.
» De Imitatione Christ!.
t Summa religion!* est imitari quern colig.
Let us pray.
ET KRXAL Creator, and supreme Governor
of the world, songs of praise are due to thee
in Zion ; nay, as thou art infinitely superior
to all our songs and hymns, even silence in
Zion redounds to thy praise. Let the socie-
ties of angels be rather employed in singing
thy praises ; but let us, with silence and as-
tonishment, fall down at the footstool of thy
throne, while they are taken up in the repeti-
tion of their celebrated doxology, Holy, holy,
holy, Lord God of Hosts, who fillest heaven
and earth with thy glory ! But O that we
had within us proper powers for exalting that
most sacred name ! that name, which, ac-
cording to their measure, is celebrated by all
the parts of this visible world which surround
us, the heaven, the stars, the winds, the rivers,
the earth, the ocean, and all the creatures
therein. Thou surely didst at first implant
in us souls and powers for this purpose, su-
perior to the rest of the visible creation ; as
we were then not only qualified to offer thee
praises founded on the rational conviction of
our mind, and animated by the affections of
our heart ; but also capable of pronouncing
more articulately even the praises that result
from all the rest of thy visible works. But,
alas ! these heavenly souls, these principles
proceeding from a divine original, we have
most deeply immersed in mire and dirt, nor
is any hand able to extricate them out of
this mud, or cleanse them from their pollu-
tion, but thine. O most exalted and boun-
tiful Father, if thou wilt graciously please
to grant us this grace and favour, we shall
then offer thee new songs of praise as incense,
and ourselves, thus renewed, as a burnt-offer-
ing : and all the rest of our time in this
world we shall live not to ourselves, but
wholly to him who died for us.
May thy church, throughout the whole
earth, and especially in these islands, be sup-
ported by thy most powerful hand, and con-
tinually be made to rejoice in the light of
thy gracious countenance. Let our king be
joyful in thee, and, as he depends upon thy
bounty, let him never be moved ; let his
throne be established in piety and righteous-
ness, and let peace, and the gospel of peace,
be the constant blessings of his kingdoms,
through Jesus Christ our Lord ; to whom,
with thee, and the Holy Spirit, be praise,
honour, and glory, now, and for evermore.
Amen.
A MODEST DEFENCE
OF
MODERATE EPISCOPACY,
As established in Scotland at the Restoration of King Charles II
I. EPISCOPAL government, managed in
conjunction with presbyters, presbyteries,
and Synods, is not contrary to the rule oi
Scripture, or the example of the primitive
church, but most agreeable to both.
II. Yea, it is not contrary to that new
covenant which is pretended by so many as
the main, if not the only, reason of their
scrupling ; and for their sakes it is necessary
to add this : for, notwithstanding the many
irregularities both in the matter and form ol
that covenant, and in the illegal and violent
ways of pressing and prosecuting of it ; yet
to them who still remain under the conscience
of its full force and obligation, and in that
gome are inconvinceably persuaded, it is cer-
tainly most pertinent, if it be true, to declare
the consistence of the present government,
even with that obligation.
And as both of these assertions, I believe,
upon the exactest (if impartial and impas-
sionate) inquiry, will be found to be in them-
selves true, so they are owned by the gene-
rality of the Presbyterians in England, as
themselves have published their opinions in
print, with this title, Two Papers of Pro-
posals, humbly presented to his Majesty,
by the Reverend Ministers of the Presby-
terian Persuasion, printed at London, anno
1661.
Besides other passages in those papers to
the same purpose, in pp. 11 and 12, are these
words : " And as these are our general ends
and motives, so we are induced to insist
upon the form of a synodical government,
conjunct with a fixed presidency or episcopa-
cy ; for these reasons :
" 1. We have reason to believe, that no
other terms will be so generally agreed on, &c.
" 2. It being agreeable to the Scripture
and the primitive government, is likeliest to
be the way of a more universal concord, if
ever the churches on earth arrive at such a
blessing : however, it will be most accepta-
ble to God and well-informed consciences.
" 3. It will promote the practice of disci-
pline and godliness without discord, and pro-
mote order without hindering discipline and
godliness.
'* 4. And it is not to be silenced (though
in some respects we are loath to mention it),
that it will save the nations from the viola-
tion of the solemn vow and covenant, with-
out wronging the church at all, or breaking
any oath," &c.
And a little after, they add, '• That the
prelacy disclaimed in that covenant, was the
engrossing the sole power of ordination and
jurisdiction; and exercising of the whole
discipline absolutely by bishops themselves,
and their delegates, chancellors, surrogates,
and officials, &c., excluding wholly the pas-
tors of particular churches from all share in it.
And there is one of prime note amongst
them, who, in a large treatise of church-
government, does clearly evidence, that this
was the mind both of the parliament of Eng-
land, and of the assembly of divines at
Westminster, as they themselves did ex-
pressly declare it in the admitting of the
covenant, That they understood it not to be
against all Episcopacy ; but only against
that particular frame, as it is worded in the
article itself.* As for our present model in
Scotland, and the way of managing it, what-
soever is amiss, (and it can be no wrong to
make that supposition, concerning any
church on earth,) the brethren that are dis-
satisfied had possibly better acquitted their
duty, by free admonitions and significations
of their own sense in all things, than by
leaving their stations, which is the only thing
that has made the breach, — I fear very hard
to cure, and in human appearance near to
incurable. But there is much charity due
to those following their own consciences ;
and they owe, and I hope they pay, the
same back again to those that do the same
• Baxter of Church Government, Pt. iii. Ch. i. tit.
p. 274. " An Episcopacy desirable for the reformation,
•reservation, and peace of the churches, a fixed pre-
sideoU durante vita." See pp. 297 and 330, ibid.
A DEFENCE OF MODERATE EPISCOPACY.
in another way. And whatsoever may be
the readiest and happiest way of re-uniting
those that are naturally so minded, the Lord
reveal it to them in due time.
This one word I shall add : That this
difference should arise to a great height, may
seem somewhat strange to any man that
calmly considers, that there is in this church
no change at all, neither in the doctrine nor
worship ; no, nor in the substance of the dis-
cipline itself ; but when it falls on matter
easily inflammable, a little sparkle, how great
a fire will it kindle !
Oh ! who would not long for the shadows
of the evening, from all those poor, childish
contests ?
But some will say that we are engaged
against prelacy by covenant, and therefore
cannot yield to so much as you do, without
perjury.
Ans. That this is wholly untrue, I must
demonstrate. When that covenant was pre-
sented to the assembly with the bare name of
prelacy joined to popery, many contrair and
reverend divines desired that the word pre-
lacy might be explained, because it was not
all Episcopacy they were against ; and
thereupon the following clause, in the paren-
thesis, was given by the way of explication,
in these words : (That the church govern-
ment by archbishops, bishops, their chan-
cellors, and commissaries, deans and chap-
ters, arch-deacons, and all the other eccle-
siastical officers depending on that hierar-
chy :) by which it appears, that it was only
the English hierarchy or frame that was co-
venanted against ; and that which was then
existent, that was taken down.
II. When the House of Lords took the
covenant, Mr. Thomas Coleman, who gave
it to them, did so explain it, and profess that
it was not their intent to covenant against all
Episcopacy ; and upon this explication it
was taken ; and certainly the parliament was
most capable of giving the due sense of it,
seeing it was they that did impose it.
III. And it could not be all Episcopacy
that was excluded, because a parochial Epis-
copacy was at that same time used and ap-
j roved commonly in England.
IV. And in Scotland they had used the
help of visiters, for the reformation of their
churches, committing the care of a country
or circuit to some one man, who was as high
a sort of Episcopacy at least as any I am
pleading for ; besides that, they had mode-
rators in all their synods, which were tempo-
rary bishops.
V. Also the chief divines of the late
assembly at Westminster, that recommend,
ed that covenant to the nations, have
professed their own judgment for such a mo-
derate Episcopacy as I am here defending,
and therefore they never intended the exclu-
sion of this by covenant.
After the same author saith, " As we
have prelacy to be aware of, so we have the
contrary extreme to avoid, and the church's
peace, if it may be so procured ; and as we
must not take down the ministry, lest it
prepare men for Episcopacy, so neither must
we be against any profitable use and exercise
of the ministry, or desirable order amongst
them, for fear of introducing prelacy," &c.
There is another that has wrote a treatise
on purpose, and that zealous enough, .con-
cerning the obligation of the league and
covenant, under the name of Theophilus
Timercus, and yet therein it is expressly as-
serted, that however at first view it might
appear, that the parliament had renounced
all Episcopacy, yet, upon exacter inquiry, it
was evident to the author, that that very
scruple was made by some members in par.
liament, and resolved, with the consent of
their brethren in Scotland, lhat the covenant
was only intended against prelacy, as it was
then in being in England, leaving a latitude
for Episcopacy, &c.
It should be "loted, that when that cove-
nant was framed, there was no Episcopacy
at all in being in Scotland, but in England
only ; so that the extirpation of that frame
only could then be merely intended.
Likewise it should be considered of,
though there are in Scotland at present the
names of dean and chapter and commis-
saries ; yet that none of these do exercise at
all any part of the discipline under that
name, neither any other, as chancellor or
surrogate, &c., by delegation from bishops,
with total exclusion of the community of
Presbyters from all power and share in it,
which is the greatest point of difference be-
tween that model and this with us, and im-
ports so much as to the main of discipline.
I do not deny that the generality of the
people, even of ministers in Scotland, when
they took the covenant, did understand that
article, as against all Episcopacy whatsoever,
even the most moderate ; especially if it
should be restored under the express name of
bishops and archbishops ; never considering
how different the nature and model, and the
way of exercising it, might be thought on
under these names ; and that the due regu-
lating of the thing is much more to be regard-
ed, than either the returning or altering the
name. But though they did not then con-
sider any such thing, yet certainly it con-
cerns them now to consider it, when it is
represented to them, that not only the words
of the oath itself do very genuinely consist
with such a qualified and distinctive sense ;
but that the very composers and imposers 01
it, or a considerable part of them, did so un-
derstand and intend it ; and unless they can
make it appear, that the Episcopacy now in
question with us in Scotland, is either con-
trary to the word of God, or to that mitigat-
A DEFENCE OF MODERATE EPISCOPACY.
63!)
ed sense of their own oath, it would seem
more suitable to Christian charity and mo-
deration, rather to yield to it, as tolerable at
least, than to continue so inflexibly to their
first mistakes, and excessive zeal for love of
it, as to divide from the church, and break
the bond of peace.
It may likewise be granted, that some
'•earned men in England, who have refused
to take the covenant, did possibly except
against that article of it, as signifying the
total renunciation and abolition of Episcopacy ;
and seeing that was the real event and con-
sequence of it, and they having many other
strong and weighty reasons for refusing it,
it is no wonder that they were little curious
to inquire what passed among the contrivers
of it, and what distinction or different senses,
either the words of that article might admit,
or those contrivers might intend by them.
And the truth is, that, besides many other
evils, the iniquity and unhappiness of such
oaths and covenants lie much in this, that
being commonly framed by persons that even
amongst themselves are not fully of one
mind, but have their different opinions and
interests to serve, (and it was so even in
this,) they commonly patched up so many
several articles and clauses, and those too of
so versatile and ambiguous terms, that they
prove most wretched snares and thickets of
briars and thorns to the consciences of those
who are engaged in them, and matter of end-
less contentions and disputes amongst them,
about the true sense and intendment, and
the ties and obligations of those doubtful
clauses : especially in such alterations and
revolutions of affairs as always may, and
often do even within few years, follow after
them ; for the models and productions of
Euch devices are not usually long-lived. And
whatsoever may be said for their excuse in
whole or in part, who (in yielding to the
power that pressed it, and the general opi-
nion of this church at the time) did take that
covenant in the most moderate and least
schismatical sense that the terms can admit ;
yet I know not what can be said to clear
them of a very great sin, that not only fram-
ed such an engine, but violently imposed it
upon all ranks of men ; not ministers and
other public persons only, but the whole
body and community of the people, thereby
engaging such droves of poor ignorant per-
sons to they knew not what, and (to speak
freely) to such a hodge-podge of things of
various concernments, religious and civil, as
church discipline and government, the pri-
vileges of parliaments and liberties of sub-
jects, and condign punishment of malig-
nants ; things hard enough for the wisest
and most learned to draw the just lines of,
and to give plain definitions and decisions of
them, and therefore certainly, asfarofffrom the
reach of poorcountry people's understanding,
as from the true interest of their souls— and
yet to tie them by a religious oath, either to
know all, or to contend for them blindfold,
without knowing of them. Where will there
be instanced a greater oppression and tyranny
over consciences than this ? Certainly, they
that now govern in this church cannot be
charged with any thing near, or like unto
it ; for whatsoever they require of entrants
to the ministry, they require neither subscrip-
tions nor oaths of ministers already entered,
and far less of the whole body of the people.
And it were ingeniously done to take some
notice of any point of moderation, or what-
soever else is really commendable, even in
those we account our greatest enemies, and
not to take any party in the world for the
absolute standard and unfailing rule of truth
and righteousness in all things.
MEDITATIONS,
CRITICAL AND PRACTICAL,
ON
PSALMS iv. xxxii. AND cxxx
JN'ow Jirtt translated from the Latl'.i.
MEDITATIONS,
CRITICAL AND PRACTICAL,
ON PSALM iv.
Title, To the chief Musician on Neginoth,
a Psalm of David.
MANY of the calamities of good men look
like miseries, which yet on the whole appear •
to have conduced greatly to their happiness ;
witness the many prayers which they poured
out in those calamities ; the many seasonable
and shining deliverances whicli succeeded
them, and the many hymns of praise they
sung to God their deliverer : so that they
•seem to have been cast into the fire on pur-
pose that the odour of their graces might dif-
fuse itself all abroad.
The seventy Greek interpreters seem to
have read the word which we render to the
Chief Musician, something different from the
reading of our present Hebrew copy, that is,
Lemenetz, instead of Lemenelzoth ; and
therefore they render it, u; TiXoj, as the
Latin does in finem, to the end. From
whence the Greek and Latin fathers imagin-
ed, that all the Psalms which bear this in-
scription refer to the Messiah, the great end
and the accomplishment of all things ; a
sentiment which was rather pious than judi-
cious, and ?ed them often to wrest several
passages in the Psalms by violent and unna-
tural glosses. Yet I would not morosely re-
jectall inteipretations of that kind, seeing the
Apostles themselves apply to Christ many
passages out of the Psalms and other books
: of the Old Testament, which, if we had not
been assured of it by their authority, we
; should hardly have imagined to have had
any reference to him. Nor is it probable
that they enumerated all the predictions of
the Messiah, which are to be found in the
(prophetic writings, but only a very small
part of them, while they often assure us that
Sail the sacred writers principally centre in
him ; and it is certain the passage out of
|:his Psalm, which Austin and some others
iuppose to refer to Christ, may be applied to
lim without any force upon the expression
O ye sons of men, how long will ye turn
my glory into shame ?"• And what fol-
lows they explain with the same reference :
Know thai the Lord has in a wonderful
manner separated his Holy One unto him-
self. Others however render the title in a
different manner (victori) to the conqueror.
Moderns translate it pracentori or prcefecto
musicee, to the chief musician, or him who
presided over the band of musicians, which,
after all, seems the most natural interpreta-
tion. The word Neginoth, which is some-
times rendered stringed instruments, did. no
doubt, signify instruments of music which
were struck to give their sound, as Nehiloth,
in the title of Psalm v., seems, though not
without some little irregularity in the ety-
mology, to signify instruments of wind music.
The Psalm was written by David, as a sum-
mary of the prayer he had poured out before
God, when some exceeding great affliction
seemed to besiege him on every side, whether
it were the persecution of Saul, or the con-
spiracy of Absalom his son.
"Vr.n. 1. Hear me when I call, O God of my righte-
ousness : thou hast enlarged me when I was in
distress; have mercy upon me, and hear my
prayer.
Hear me.] Behold the sanctuary to which
this good man betook himself in all the afflic-
tions of his life ; a sanctuary which, there-
fore, he sets off, by accumulating a variety
of expressive titles all to the same purpose.
Psalm xviii. 1 : My rock, my fortress, my
strength, my deliverer, my buckler, &c. He
is indeed a place of refuge to his children ;
and therefore, as Solomon expresses it, Prov.
xiv. 26, In the fear of the Lord is ttrong'
confidence. There seems something of an
(Enigma in that expression, confidence in
fear, yet the thing itself is most true. And
again, Proverbs xviii. 10, The name of the
* They read it frravi corde, as expressive of the stu-
pidity of heart which the rejecting of Christ and hit
gcspel manifests.
MEDITATIONS
644
Lord is a strong tower ; the righteous run-
nelh into it, and is safe. And they who
know not this refuge, are miserable ; and
when any danger arises, they run hither and
thither, as Antonius beautifully expresses it,
MM wf>.!w *!«*!•?«>(, " They fly and
flutter they know not whither." The life of
man upon" earth is a warfare ; and it is much
better, in the midst of enemies and dangers,
to be acquainted with one fortress than with
many inns. He that knows how to pray may
be pressed, but cannot be overwhelmed.*
Hear me, O Lord, hear my prayer.] He
did not think it enough to have said this
once, but he redoubled it. He who prays
indeed, is seriously engaged in the matter,
and not only seriously but vehemently too,
and urges the address because he himself is
urged by his necessities and difficulties, and
the ardent motion of his own desire ard af-
fection : and let it be observed, that these are
the only prayers that mount on high, -md
offer a kind of grateful violence to heaven.
Nor does the Divine goodness grant any
thing with greater readiness and delight
than the blessings which seem, if I may be
allowed the expression, to be forced out ant
extorted by the most fervent prayer. So tha
Tertullian used to say, " That when we praj
eagerly, we do as it were combine in a re
Bolute band, and lay siege to God himself."-]
These are the perpetual sacrifices in tht
temple of God (Swim A«y<*«') — rationa
victims, prayers and intermingled vows, flow
ing from an upright and pure heart. Bu
he who presents his petitions coldly, seem
to bespeak a denial : for is it to be wonder
ed at, that we do not prevail on God to hea
our prayers, when we hardly hear them our
selves while we offer them ? How can w
suppose that such devotions should penetrat
heaven, or ascend up to it ? How shoul
they ascend, w/ien they do not so much a
go forth from our own bosoms, but, lik
wretched abortives, die in the very birth
But why do I say that they do not go ou
from the inward recesses of our bosoms
Alas ! they are only formed on the surfac
of our lips, and they expire there ; quite di
ferent from what Homer ascribes to his wise
and eloquent Ulysses, when he says,
O-xa. TI ^syaXflv ix e-Ttfajs mi.
Forth fromhisbreast he poured amightycry.
Thou God of my righteousness.] "OGod,
who art righteous thyself, and art the patron
of my righteousness, of my righteous cause,
andof my righteous life;" — for it isnecessary
that both should concur, if we desire to ad-
dress our prayers to God with any confidence :
not that, depending upon this righteousness,
we should seek the Divine aid and favour as a
matter of just debt ; for then, as the apostle
» Premi potest, non potest opprimi.
t Precantes veluti stipato agmine Deum obsidere-
rgues, it were no more of grace, Rom. xi.
. Our prophet is certainly very far from
casting of his merits ; for here he so men-
ons his righteousness, as at the same time
o cast himself upon the Divine mercy :
lave mercy upon me, exercise thy propi-
ous clemency towards me ; and this is in-
eed the genuine temper of one who truly
rays with sincerity and humility ; for poi-
nted hands are an abomination to the
;ord, and he hates the heart that is puffed
ip ; he beholds the proud afar off, as the
elebrated parable of the Pharisee and Pub-
ican (Luke xviii.,) is, you know, intended
o teach us. Thou art not a God that hast
pleasure in wickedness. If I regard ini-
ndty in my heart, the Lord will not hear
ne. But the righteous Lord lovelh rlgh-
eousness, and his countenance beholds the
upright. Whereas the words of the wicked,
when he prays, are but as a fan, or as bel-
ows, to blow up the Divine displeasure into
a flame : for how can he appease God, who
does not at all please him ? Or how can he
please, who is indeed himself displeased with
God, and who utterly disregards his pure
laws, and that holiness which is so dear to
him ?
Thou hast enlarged me when I was in
distress.] " I have often experienced both
the riches of thy bounty, and the power of
thy hand ; and I derive confidence from
thence, because them art immutable, and
canst never be wearied, by rescuing thy ser-
vants from the dangers that surround them."
The examples we have heard of divine aid
granted to others in their distress should
animate us ; as David recollected, Psalm
xxii. 4, Our fathers trusted in thee ; they
trusted in thee, and thou didst deliver them.
But our own personal experiences are latei
and nearer, and he who treasures them up
in his memory, not only thereby expresses
his gratitude to God, but wisely consults
his own interes* ; for he enjoys all thoss
benefits of Divine favour twice, or rather us
ofitn as he needs, and pleases to renew tlu
enjoyment of them : and he not only sup.
port? his faith in new dangers, by surveying
God's former interpositions, but by layinf
them open before God in humble prayer, h<
more earnestly implores and more eft'ectuallj
obtains new ones. By a secret kind of mag.
netism, he draws one benefit by another ; h<
calls out, and as it were allures the Divin<
favour by itself.
Thou hast enlarged me.] The redeeem-
ed of the Lord may especially say so, in re,
ference to that grand and principal deliver,
ance, by which they are snatched from thi
borders of hell, from the jaws of eterna
death. The remembrance of so great salva.
tion may well excite songs of perpetual
praise to be ascribed (Deo liberatori) tt
God the deliverer : and by this deliverance
VER. 2.
ON PSALM IT.
so much more illustrious than any of the
rest, they may be encouraged, in the confi-
dence of faith, to urge and hope for the aids
of his saving arm in every other exigency.
One thing more may be observed here,
but it is so very obvious, that I shall only
just mention it, as what needs not to be
much inculcated ; that he who has not been
accustomed to prayer when the pleasant gales
of prosperity have been breathing upon him,
will have little skill and confidence in apply-
ing himself to it, when the storms of adver-
sity arise ; as Xenophon well observed in the
person of Cyrus.*
VER. 2. O ye sons of men, how long will ye turn
my glory into shame ? How long will ye love
vanity, and seek afttr leasing ? Selah.
JUSTLY may we admire the force and the
speed with which prayer flies up to heaven,
and brings down answers from thence ; apa.
i» — no sooner said than done.
If not as to the accomplishment of the thing
itself, which perhaps may be more opportune
in some future hour, yet at least in clear,
firm hope, and strong confidence, sent from
above into a praying soul. Prayer soars above
the violence and impiety of men, and with a
swift wing commits itself to heaven, with
happy omen, if T may allude to what the
learned tell us of the augury of the ancients,
which I shall not minutely discuss. Fervent
prayers stretch forth a strong, wide-extended
wing ; and while the birds of night hover
beneath, they mount aloft, and point out as
it were the proper seats to which we should
aspire. For certainly there is nothing
destined his servants, whom you insult and
deride. The height of your honour and
vanishing glory, from the exaltation of which
you look down upon me, will, if you desire
I should courageously speak the truth, only
render your future fall more grievous ana
fatal, which he whose destruction you seek
with such insatiable rage, sees indeed, but
does not wish ; nay, he rather wishes that
this misery may be averted from you, and
that, by a return to ihe exercise of your right
mind, it may be totally prevented ; and
therefore he gives you this admonition, lest
while you are deriding him, unexpected de-
struction should come upon you, and your
laughter should prove of the Sardonic kind,
which nothing can quiet till it end in death.
You have indeed great strength and deep
counsel, but these things are only the blan-
dishments of your ruin, and the splendid pre-
lude of that misery which is hovering over
you. You have spent timn enough, (and,
alas ! how much more than enough !) in
giving chase to such vanities ; at last re-
gard the man who in the most disinterested
manner admonishes you of the most impor-
tant truths."
How long will ye Iv.rn my glory into
shame ?] The Septuagint appears to have
read these words something different from
our copies, but the sense is, nevertheless,
much the same ;* and though the Psalmist,
in the affair which he had in view, speaks
only of a few, the words themselves have
such an expressive dignity, and are in truth
so unhappily extensive, that without doing
that cuts the air so swiftly, nothing that i any the least violence to them, they may be
takes so sublime, so happy, and so auspi- —
cious a flight, as prayer, which bears the
soul upon its pinions, and leaves far behind
all the dangers, and even the delights of
this low world of ours. Behold this holy
man, that just before was crying to God in
the midst of distress, and with urgent impor-
tunity intreating that he might be heard,
now, as if he were already possessed of all he
had asked, taking upon him boldly to rebuke
his enemies, how highly soever they were ex-
»lted, and how potent soever they might be
ven in the royal palace !
O ye sons of men.] Thff Hebrew phrase
here used, bene Isch, properly speaking,
signifies noble men, great men, as persons of
Plebeian rank are called bene Adam."
' " Whoever you are, and however illustrious
by birth, or inflated with pride, or perhaps
I formidable on both accounts, your greatness
i is false, and when it is most blown up, is
most likely to burst : that is a sound and
i stable degree of honour to which God has
IIYI, TOTt X*K-
t Accordingly, the Latin renders it, not filii homi-
Ntim, but/i/ii virorum.
K"
considered as an admonition to all mankind-
O ye sons of men, how long will ye love va-
nity and liet ? For, indeed, what are all
these things which we foolish mortals pur-
sue, with such contention and ardour of spi-
rit, but, as an ancient expresses it, " Trifles
that are but like the shadow of smoke ?"•}•
But we are to speak of this hereafter. In
the mean time let us attend to the words be-
fore us, How long will ye turn my glory into
shame ? The things which are the brightest
ornaments of human nature, and which alone
constitute its very glory, are holiness, piety,
and faith ; and these are treated as if they
were the most despicable and ignominious
things in the whole world. Among Chris-
tians, or those who are called by the name,
it is the greatest of all scandals to be a Chris-
tian indeed. We have long since lost the
true names of things ; candid simplicity of
manners is despised as rusticity ; lively reli-
gion is called the delirious dream of super-
stitious notions ; and gentleness, dullness
and stupidity : while pride has usurped the
» They render it, " How long are ye slow of heart ?"
'£»,- •ran faevxa'tiet ; and the latins, UsquajHO prtf
snrdef Instead of Kebudi lekelesseh, they read Kebnt
leklessi.
t 4>Ai&<«(; li.ia.i-ra. xtti xttrrou rxieu.
MEDITATIONS
VEH. 3.
name of magnanimity, and craft that of wis-
dom. Thus we turn true glory into shame,
and shame into glory ; and because few are
able to discern what tends to their eternal
happiness, they squander away the whole
day of this short life in pursuing and catch-
ing at the false and fictitious forms of it ;
yea, they seek a lie, lying vanity. And they
who heap up riches, seem to be wise both to
themselves and others ; but oh ! how far
from it, and with how base alie do they impose
upon themselves ! For these riches are spent
upon gratifying their palate, and ministering
in other respects to their luxury. Into how
foul a gulf do they throw what they have la-
boured so eagerly to gain ! Or, if they
hoard up their wealth, how soon do they pass
over the property to their heirs ! Men hunt
after fame and vain glory ; and when they
seem to have caught it, feed upon air, and
become the slaves of all, even the meanest,
for a thing of nought. And as for pleasure,
who is so senseless as not to know how de-
ceitful a lie it proves at last ? It drives men
into a weak frenzy, to run after the most tri-
fling objects of pursuit, which fly from them
like bees, who, if they are taken, yield but
a drop of honey, and repay the spoil of it
with a painful sting ; a sting which, alas !
reaches the very heart. Religion is a high,
sublime thing, royal, unconquerable, unwea-
ried ; but pleasure is low, servile, weak and
withering. Religion is neither attended with
sickly disgust in the enjoyment, nor bitter
repentance in the reflection ; but what the
world calls pleasure is attended with both.
" Hear, my young friends, hear the divine
voice or celestial wisdom calling you with
fervent affection, and a loud cry from the
trackless ways of error and precipices of
misery. How long, does she say, how long
will ye love vanity, and seek after leasing ?
He that seeks me shall not be wearied in
running hither and thither, but shall find me,
sitting at his door and waiting admittance ;
and he who finds me need seek nothing else,
unless he be one whom a life of real happi-
ness cannot satisfy." Oh ! that the indefa-
tigable labour and industry with which men
pursue flattering and uncertain enjoyments,
may stir up your minds to exert at least an
equal diligence in this sublime and most
blessed pursuit ! For if, as St. Chrysostom
speaks, it may seem indecent for me to press
you farther to such an attachment to these
objects as they require, it will be a lovely
thing to give it without farther solicitation.
But to proceed :
How long will you love vanity, and seek
after leasing .*] Can any one deny that this
is the character of almost every thing that is
to be found in human life ? Should a man
proclaim that in every company with a loud
voice, he would soon pass for a lunatic ; but
certainly he might reproach them with the
g:neral madness which reigns among man-
kind, not only among the vulgar that he
meets with in the streets, but the philosophers
disputing in the school, the counsellors plead-
ing in our courts of judicature, yea the sena-
tors and nobles that sit in the most august
assembly. And oh ! how happy are they,
of whatever order, whom the hand of God
draws out of the crowd, and turns their minds
from these various, lying, and transitory va-
nities, to the pursuit of true and lasting good !
Happy they whom he, by a wonderful inter-
position of grace in their favour, sets apart
as dear to himself. Which leads to the 3d
VER. 3. But know that the Lord hath set apart
him that is godly for himself : the Lord will lieai
me when I call unto him.
THE Prophet had this great support both
of his faith and of his kingdom, the immuta-
ble and unshaken decree of the Supreme and
Universal King ; and it is the firm establish-
ment of David's infinitely greater Son, in
his throne and kingdom : / will declare
the decree, Psalm ii. 7- In this verse, and
there, we may most properly understand it oi
both ; more immediately of David as th«
type, but chiefly and in its consummate sensej
as referring to Christ the Lord, and having
its full end and accomplishment in his end-
less and eternal kingdom. He is, by way oi
eminence, God's holy One, holy and harm*
less, undefilcd, separate from sinners, Heb.
vii. 26. And whoever they are who endea-
vour to oppose themselves to the Divine pur-
poses, betray the most desperate madness,
and on whatever strength or counsel they de-
pend in the enterprise, like waves dashed
against the solid rock, they shall be broken
in pieces, by what they vainly attempt to
break. And on this basis does the whole
safety of the whole church rest, and that of
all God's saints, of all those whom he sets
apart for himself; and, as the form of the
original here has been thought to imply,
wonderfully separates as his peculiar people
and treasure, the sacred charge of Christ, the
great shepherd and bishop of souls, which all
the powers of earth, and gates of hell, shall
in vain attempt to wrest from him- And this
is the confidence on which believers should
repose themselves. They never trust to
themselves, or their own strength or virtues,
but they often redouble that cry, Thou,
Lord, art my rock and my fortress, and
my deliverer. And blessed, O Lord, is the
man who trusteth in thee ; Psalm xviii. 2t
xxxiv. 8 ; who must previously and neces-
sarily despair first of himself, as considered
in himself alone ; as the great apostle sayS|
When I am weak, then am I strongest of
alii 2 Cor. xii. 10. According to that live-
PER. 3.
ON PSALM IV.
047
ly and just expression, " Faith which is en.
dangered in security, is secure in danger."*
The Psalmist adds, the Lord will hear
me when I call.] From the Divine decree
and favour, he promises not to himself an
entire freedom from all ami every attempt of
his enemies, but assures himself that God
will be present in the midst of his calamities ;
present and propitious, not to the indolent
and drowsy soul, but to that which solicits
his assistance by prayer ; and this is the de-
termination of every godly man, whom the
Lord has set apart for himself, that he will call
upon God without ceasing ; and that, if
any unusual difficulty arise, he will call upon
him more fervently. Thence it appears, how
entirely all our safety depends upon prayer :
yet all our prayers, and those of the whole
church, are sustained by those prayers of our
great King and Priest, as Augustine says in
reference to that known story in the Evange-
lists, Because the waves rise, the ship may
be tossed, but because Christ prays, it can-
not be sunk.-\-
VKR. 4. Stand in awe, and sin not; commune
with your own heart on your bed, and be still.
Sclah.
OH most friendly counsel ! which is here
offered to enemies. This is indeed over-
coming hatred and injury with the very best
of favours — by far the most noble kind of
victory. A sublime and heavenly mind, like
the upper region of the world, is not only it-
self always calm and serene, as being inac-
cessible to every breath of injury and turbu-
lent impression, but it also continually sheds
down its benign influences without distinc-
tion on all below it, on the evil and the good,
the just and the unjust. Stand in awe —
the Hebrew and Greek, be ye moved ; and
as this emotion may arise, either from anger,
fear, or any other affection of the mind, the
Septuagint renders it, be ye angry, and sin
not, a maxim which Paul finding to his pur-
pose, inserts in his epistle to the Ephesians,
iv. 26. Nevertheless, the author of this
Psalm here seems more apparently to demand
I their fear rather than their anger, and accord-
ingly the Targum explains it, fear him, thai
i is, God, and tin not ; Kimchi, fear tJie Lori
I who hulk chosen me king ; and Abenezra
\fcar G«d and despise not my glory ; for tfta,
I great King vUl require the derision at the
nH of the deridcrt.
The passions are the inmost wheels o:
, this machine which we call man, whose mo-
tions all the rest of life follows, and all the
errors of this career of ours proceed from
their irregularity. Of so great importance
;is it that every one rightly determine wha
e should desire, and hope, and fear. Ant
* Fides quae in securitate periclitatur, in perfculis
;l lecura est.
t Quia insurgunt fluctus, potest turbari navicula;
\\sea quia Chrisms orat, non potest mergi.
rom the time that man lost the ingenuity of
lis disposition, and became like a wild ass's
colt, the use of fear is become very great.
It is true that they who are born again, and
who really are the sons of God, are espjcial-
y led by the sweet and noble energy of this
divine principle, and therefore it is the say-
ng of the beloved apostle, that perfect love,
or charity, casteth out fear, 1 John iv. 18.
But as the generality of mankind are either
entirely destitute of this divine love, or possess
it only in a very low and imperfect degree, so
it is certain, that with regard to him, whose
heart is most entirely fired with this celestial
flame, we may understand the words as sig-
nifying, that in such an one this great and
fervent love does indeed cast out all despair-
ings, and diffident fears, but not that of a
pious and reverential awe. Alas ! most of
us, under pretence of avoiding a servile
terror, perversely shake off the bonds of holy
and ingenuous fear, and become obstinate
and self-willed ; whereas, when we look into
the word of God, we shall find the holiest
men there tremble in the Divine presence,
and sometimes acknowledge even great
horror of mind. Ps. cxix. 120, My flesh
trembleth for fear of thee, and I am afraid
of thy judgments. Job xxxi. 23, Destruc--
tion from God was a terror to me, and be-
cause of his excellency I could not endure
In this sense, as David declares, Ps. xix, 9.
The fear of the Lord is clean, and endurelh
for ever, endures in the most happy agree-
ment with perfect love. Nor is it only to
remain in spirits that inhabit flesh, but in
all the angelic choirs, pure and happy as
they are. Nay, the profound reverence of
that eternal and tremendous Majesty flourish-
es and reigns most of all there ; for in pro-
portion to the degree in which the knowledge
is clearer and vision more distinct, is the
veneration and the fear more deep and
humble. How reasonable then must it be,
that mortal men, beset with sore temptations
and dangers, should, as Hezekiah expresseth
it, walk softly and tremble before that in-
finite Majesty, at whose voice the earth is
shaken, and at whose rebuke the pillars of
heaven are moved. With great propriety
did one of the ancients say, " Fear is the
first swaddling-band of new-born wisdom,"*
or, as the Scripture expresses it, The fear of
the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. It
is observed, that the original word there
made use of, signifies both the beginning and
the top, and in both senses it is most true :
the author just mentioned admirably says,
" Do they call such an one unlearned ? It
is the only wisdom I know to fear God ; it
is the beginning of wisdom and end of all
discourse, as Solomon describes it ; it is in-
deed the r/> -ray, the whole matter, the whole
concern of man, and it is all in all ; fear
* 'O 9»Soe trfvTor rris rofixf era jya>«». Greg. Nax.
648
MEDITATIONS
VF.H. 5
God."* And elsewhere he adds, " This
fear is most salutary to men, but at the same
time most rare, superlatively so."-|- And
once more, " It is," says he, " the greatest
of all good things to fear God, and the un-
godly, in falling from it, shall .ot be permit-
ted long to continue the abuse of his own
folly."$ Well therefore is it here added,
sin not. This fear is the water of the sanc-
tuary, to quench all the flames of concupis-
cence ; this (says Bernard) is the arrow
that strikes through all the desires of the
flesh. Hence arose Abraham's fear and
apprehension among strangers, Surely, says
he, the fear of God is not in this place,
Gen. xx. 11.
But in order to produce this fear, it is
necessary that we should have right concep-
tions of God — that nothing impure can please
him, because he is holiness itself; that no-
thing secret can be concealed from him,
because he is light ; nor can any sinner
surely be mad enough to hope he shall es-
cape the long hand of his righteous Judge
and supreme King, whose power is immense,
and who cannot be a respecter of persons.
What evil then can escape with impunity ?
Thou, O Lord, thou only art to be feared ;
and who can stand before thee when once
thou art angry ? Psalm Ixxvi. 1.
Commune with your own heart.] Or,
as some render it, examine yourselves. Oh !
how few do this ! Men live abroad and are
indeed strangers at home, the great mark of
human madness — to delight in speaking and
hearing of what concerns others, while no
single person will attempt to descend into
himself. § Yet this faculty, which we call
reflection, is the peculiar privilege of human
nature, and to be borne on wholly by external
objects, is indeed brutal. And oh ! what
heaps of disorder, what odious filthiness, must
there necessarily be in a breast which is never
looked into, and cleansed out ? Dear youths,
if amidst all your other studies, you do not
learn to commune with your own selves,
whatever you know, or rather, whatever you
imagine you know, I would not purchase it
at the expence of a straw.
On your bed. ] Or, as some would render
it, in your secret chambers, when free from
the noise of the world, and hurries of their
daily business. An ancient said, " The
reflections of the night are deepest."|| And
it has been observed, that David in the 19th
Psalm, ascribes speech to the day, and wis-
* ATgj^Eurdy cvofjc.ctfowri ; Micev roQictv c.dx* TO Qo£ti-
Oai ®io>- «{£»j Ti yocj a-6/fiix.f, QnGt; Hufiou, xa.i rt\os
hoyev' TO Ta» a.xout, IQ-/I SckjH^MOTi fov &uu Qe&tv.
Grep. Naz. Or. xxviii.
t <t>eS/>s it &(ou, ottBfexriM <ruTr,fio{, ftratits it, erxa-
tiVTct'ros.
t Aj/aflouys jtifii fAiynrror luXxStiirOiu ®w evTif
KtriGnf txxia-ur, ou troXm £{«v«» T») ieuireu /j.uiiip xtvitt.-
ZSffircu.
5 ut nemo in sese tentat descendere, nemo.
dom to the silent night. It is an excellent
advice of Pythagoras, and the verses that
contain it do indeed deserve to be called
golden, " That we should not allow our-
selves to go to sleep, till we have seriously re-
volved the actions of the day, and asked
ourselves, What have I done amiss ? What
good have I done, or neglected to do ? that
so we may reprove ourselves for what has
been wrong, and take the comfort of what
has been as it ought."*
And bestill.~\ This refers not so much to the
tongue as to the mind, for what does an exter-
nal silence signify, if the inward affections
be turbulent ? A sedate and composed mind,
is necessary in order to know ourselves, and
know God. As it is hinted in Psalm xlvi.,
Be still, and know that I am God. Such
wisdom both deserves and demands a vacant
soul ; it will not, as it were, thrust itself in-
to a corner, nor inhabit a polluted or un-
quiet breast. God was not in the whirl-
wind, nor the fire, but in the small still voice,
1 Kings xix. 12. The Holy Spirit is peace-
ful and pacific, but wicked men are turbu-
lent and stormy, driven like the sea, whose
waves are tossed about, and throw up con-
tinually mire and dirt. Impurity is the in-
separable attendant of this inquietude, but
the wisdom that is from above, is first pure,
then peaceable, «ym, ivriira, tipttiixn, pacific,
James iii. 17; and in that blessed country
to which it teaches us to aspire, there is the
most perfect and everlasting cohabitation of
purity and peace.
VEH. 5. Offer the sacrifices of righteousness, and
put your trust in the Lord.
THE mind of man is earthly, I say, cm
vw fyeroi tiffi, as mortals now are, en-
tangled in the folds of flesh and sense ; it
knows not how to rise to things celestial and
divine : and when it is stimulated with some
sense of the etenial Deity, and the worship
due to him, it generally slides into some light-
er offices and external rites, how carelessly
soever performed, and there it rests. But
God is a Spirit, and requires to be wor-
* The original, with Mr. Rowe's translation and
paraphrase, is as follows :
M'< $* [>TVGV fJM,Xtt,XOtfftV ET* CUIJ.Cf(Tt X£OO'$t%OCff'(}lxi>
lloiv T&1V VI W-£UOiv -°-/MU T£i; IX«?TOV ETS?.0Efy.
Aj|au.iic; i>' ttvit O-JOKTOU i**%itli xxi fJt-imriiici,
AllHC. U.lt {*T{r!«f ET/TA'/ifflTEO, ££-/;<rT« Si, TfJT*.
Let not the stealing god of sleep surprise,
Nor creep in slumbers on thy weary eyes,
Ere every action of the former day
Strictly thou dost and righteously survey.
With reverence at thy own tribunal stand,
And answer justly to thy own demand,
Where have I been? In what have I transgress'd?
What good, or ill. has this day's life expressed ?
Where have I fail'd in what 1 ought to do?
In what to God, to man, or to myself I owe ?
Inquire severe, whate'er from first to last.
From morning's dawn till ev'ning's gloom has past
If evil were thy deeds, repenting mourn,
And let thy soul with strong remorse be torn.
If good, the good with peace of mind repay,
And to thy secret self with pleasure say,
" Rejoice, my heart, for all went well to-day."
ON PSALM IV.
649
shipped in spirit and in truth ; and the
solemn visible sacrifices, when instituted by
the command of Him the great Invisible,
are to be presented by every pious person
with all humble and obedient regard ; yet
the chief labour is to be employed on the
pure, sublime worship and obedience of the
mind. The heathen Philosophers objected
to the primitive Christians, that they did not
sacrifice ; to which some of the early Apo-
logists reply thus : " The Former and Parent
of the whole universe has no need of incense
and of blood. The greatest sacrifice we can
present to him, is to know who rras stretch.
ed out the heavens, who has laid the foun-
dations of the earth, who has gathered to.
ffether the waters into the hollow of the sea,
and divided thelight from the darkness, form-
ed the whole animal world, and the human
species, and who governs them all by bjs
nod ; and that, acknowledging him such an
immense and omnipotent Being, we should
lift up pure and holy hands to him."* And
the truth of this sentiment has generally pre-
vailed throughout all ages, and even in the
Jewish church, while the obligation to sacri-
fice did yet continue, with all the laborious
institution of external worship ; holiness and
Melchizedeck ; who yet instituted a perpe-
tual succession of those who should be a royal
priesthood, ths whole series of which priests
in their succeeding generations are daily of-
fering to God the Father of Spirits, the pure
and spiritual sacrifice of righteousness, most
acceptable to him, as passing through the
hand of the great High Priest, who incessant,
ly ministers in that high and holy sanctuary ;
as Bernard excellently speaks," " Nothing,
Lord, that is thine can suffice me without
thyself, nor can any thing that is mine with-
out myself be pleasing to thee." And Au.
gustine,f " Let thy fire entirely consume
me, so that nothing of me may remain to
myself." And this one Holocaust compre-
hends all the sacrifices of righteousness ; the
understanding, the love, all the affections and
faculties of the soul, and organs of our bodies;
all our words, actions and thoughts, prayers
and vows, hymns and thanksgivings, piety,
modesty, charity, and the whole choir of
virtues, exercised in a diligent and harmo-
nious observation of all his precepts. These
are victims and perfumes of incense worthy so
pure a Deity, who eats not the flesh of built,
nor drinkg the blood of goats ; who if he
were hungry would not ask us, since all
righteousness, and integrity of heart and life. \the beasts of the forest are his, and the
were acknowledged to be the most essential
part of religion ; though, alas ! while all con-
fessed it in words, there were very few that
set themselves seriously to perform it. Hence
arose the necessity of inculcating this lesson
so frequently, Ps- 1., Isa. i., xxix.; &c., and
what is there taught at large, is here hinted
in this short clause. Since the temple has
been demolished, and the priests with their
sacrifices have ceased, the Jews themselves
have instituted in the place of this the offer-
ing of the lip, with the commemoration only
of ancient sacrifice, persuaded that this would
be equally effectual, and have appointed three
daily lessons, calling him, who diligently re-
cites them, a son of eternal life.
Offer the sacrifices of righteousness.] It
is no improbable conjecture of some com-
mentators, that David here refers to the con-
fidence and boast of some of Saul's courtiers,
in those sacrifices and that solemn worship
from which their envy had perhaps banished
him. It is certainly much easier to sacrifice
a ram or a bullock, than to slay anger or
ambition, easier indeed to heap up whole he-
catombs of animals, than to resign one brutal
affection or concupiscence, yea, easier to pre-
sent all our goods than ourselves as living
sacrifices, though that is undoubtedly our
reasonable service. The Mosaic sacrifices,
though instituted by God, borrowed all their
Value from that evening victim which was to
be slain in the end of the world, who was
himself the sacrifice and the altar, and the
one only High Priest after the order of
* Athenagoras.
cattle upon a thousand hills. Offer unto
God thanksgivings, and pay thy VOIDS un!o
the Most High. For he that ojfereth
praise glorifies him, and to him that orders
his conversation aright, will he show the
salvation of God.
Even the Heathen philosophers and poets
saw and taught, that these sacrifices of a
pious mind were most fit for a rational wor-
shipper, and must be most fit for God, to
whom they are addressed. " Strange in-
deed would it be," says Socrates, " if the
gods should look to the gift and sacrifice,
and not to the soul." And passages of Ho-
race:}: and Persus§ to this purpose are so
well known, that they need not be repeated.
The language of the son of Sirach is also
a^re^able to it, Eccl. xxxv. 1, 3. " He that
ketpeth the law bringeth offerings enough ;
he that taketh heed to the commandment
offereth a peace offering. He that requiteth
a good turn offereth fine flour, and he that
gives alms sacrificeth praise. To depart
from wickedness is a thing pleasing to the
Lord, and to forsake unrighteousness is a
propitiation."
And put your trust in the Lord.] This
very trust with which the mind reposes itself
' Nee mihi tua sufflciunt sine te, nee tibi placent
mea sine me.
t Totum me consumat ignis t uus, nflifl mei remanea'
mihi.
$ Immunis aram si tetigit manus,
Non sumptuosa blandior hostia
Mollibit avcrso« Penateis,
Farre pio, et saliente mica.
{ Compositumjusfasque animi, sanctosque reccssui
Mentis, et incoctum generoso pectus honesto.
Hsec cede ut admoveam templis, et farre litabn
650
MEDITATIONS
upon God, is both the great consolation of alspiration ; but certain internal principles,
good man, and the great sacrifice of piety and which, not inwrought by nature, are after.
righteousness. The faith of Abraham was a " J- ---- "" J — '
sacrificemuch dearer to God, not only than the
ram which he actually offered, but even than
his dearest son whom he had brought to the
altar. He was strong in faith, says the a-
postle, and so he gave glory to God. And
again, only they who offer to God the sacri-
fice of righteousness, can rely upon him with
a true and solid confidence. Not that these
sacrifices, though the choicest and best of
all, can pretend to any merit, but because
they are the most genuine signs and most
certain seals of a soul in covenant with God,
so that there is indeed a mutual signing ;
God offering the dearest pledges of his fa-
vour to us, and we in like manner, as is most
fit, rendering all that we have, and all that
we are, to him, with the most humble and
grateful heart ; and certainly this union, and
perpetual, undivided friendship, is the true
tvfofim of the holy soul, that temperature
which alone can give it solid tranquillity and
felicity, as it follows presently after in this
Psalm.
VEH. 6. There be many that say, Who will shew us
any good ? Lord, lift up the light of thy coun-
tenance upon us.
THE Psalmist now returns to himself and
his own affairs, and having sufficiently ad-
monished his enemies concerning the true
and only good, enforces his exhortation by
his example, that if they thought fit they
might follow it ; for this is the most effica-
cious manner of teaching. But if they would
not, that he might at least enjoy the benefit
of his own counsel, and wrapping himself up
in his own happiness, might from that emin-
ence, look down upon all the vain and wretch-
ed pursuits of the mad vulgar. Like drunk-
en men, they reel and stagger from place to
place : they often fall down upon their face,
and strike and dash themselves against what
they desired to embrace. Through all their
life, with an unstable pace, they catch at
flying forms of good ; and after all their fall;
and their bruises, they cry out again and
again, Who will shew ns any good ? And
when they behold any new species or shadow
of it, they immediately run to it. Nay per-
haps so light and various are they in their
pursuit, they return again to that in which
they had been frequently deceived, and which
they had as often abandoned. Rabbi Solo-
mon paraphrases the words thus : " When
Israel saw the nations prosperous," he said,
" Who will shew us like prosperity ? But
David says, Envy them not, we have asub-
limer prosperity in the light of the Divine
countenance." " That is good," says the
great Philosopher of the schools, " which all
pursue." The various affections and desires
of the mind, are as the pulse and natural re-
wards received and deeply engraved upon
the heart, are the springs of that motion ;
our different opinions of different things do
nevertheless all meet in this, " That we would
see good." But they who select from the
various objects that present themselves, a
suitable, complete and substantial good, and,
neglecting every thing else, bend all their
pursuits to that, are the only wise and happy
en.
This the Psalmist professes he did, and
freely invites all that pleased to join and take
part with him in these desires and pursuits,
well knowing that the happiness was abun-
dantly sufficient for many, for al! that would
apply themselves to it, and such as could not
at all be diminished by being imparted ; for
it was indeed the
KK).O* the self-
sufficient and all-sufficient good, which was
one of the titles that some of the wiser Hea-
thens gave their Jupiter : but he of whom
we speak is the living and the true God ; nor
is there any other good whatsoever adequate
to the human mind ; and what we say of
his infinite sufficiency, is most aptly signified
by this adumbration which the Psalmist
uses, I say, by the adumbration of light ;
nor do I think fit to correct it as an incon-
gruous expression, for light is indeed as it
were the shadow of God, and that fulness of
supreme good which is in him, is in some
degree shadowed out by light, which entirely
illustrates with the full stream of its rays all
who behold it, and is not broke into little
fragments, to be sparingly distributed to
each. Many seek many things ; they pur-
sue any good with uncertain and ignorant
desires, but we have fixed upon the one pe-
tition we should insist upon, for in this one
is all ; Lord, lift up the light of thy counte-
nance upon us. Oh ! rich, grand and in-
comparable desire ! without this, all the
proudest palaces of monarchs are gloomy
caverns, dark as hell, and all the riches of
all the earth mere indigence. This is the
proper light of the intellectual world, and
it puts gladness into the heart, as it follow*.
VKB. 7- Thou hast put gladness into my heart more
than in the time that their corn and their wine
increased.
Gladness into my heart. ] To which
the gross delights of earthly things cannot
reach ; they stick as it were before the
threshold. Corn and wine are only the re-
freshment of these mean, frail earthly bodies,
and the support of this corporeal and terrene
life, but have nothing auyywn(y congenial
with, and a-kin to, the heaven-born Spirit. It
is said indeed, that bread strengthens man's
heart, and wine makes it glad ; but the heart
there spoken of is that which is the spring
of animal life and natural spirit ; whereas, to
VER. 7.
ON PSALM IV.
651
that heart which holds the preference in
human nature, which may therefore be called
the r.y.iii-'Lr.r,, the governing part, there is
nothing which gives light and gladness, be-
neath the eternal Father of lights and of
spirits. Ije cherishes the languishing soul
with the rays of his love, and satisfies it
with the consolations of his Spirit, as with a
kind of heavenly nectar or nepenthe, that
while it confides in his safety, lays all its
cares and fears asleep, and lulls it into deep
peace, and calm sweet repose, without which,
if the mind be a little agitated, no gentle
breeze of harmony, no melody of birds or
harp, can bring on the pleasing slumber,
during which nevertheless the heart awakes.
Oh happy man, who betakes his whole soul
to God, and does not only choose him above
all, but in the place of all, waiting only on
him ! Happy man who, having been chosen
by him with preventing love and unmerited
benignity, embraces his ample all-sufficient
Creator for his inheritance, and his wealth ;
vften repeating with sacred transport, Deus
incus et omnia, ! my God and my all ! This is
the man that has enough ; and therefore, to al-
lude to the words of the poet, " Heis not dis-
quieted by the raging of the sea, nor any severity
of the seasons, whatever stars may rise and set. "
God rises his gracious dwelling in the pure
and holy soul, which has learned to despise
the vanity of riches, and makes it calm in
the midst of hurries, and secure in the deep-
est solicitudes. And not merely to find,
but even to seek after God, is better to such
a soul, inexpressibly better, than to possess
the richest treasure, the most extensive em-
pire, or to have all the variety of sensual
pleasures waiting upon its beck.
• Neque
Tumultuosum solicitat mare,
Nee S5CVUS Arcturi cadentis
Impetus, aut orientb Huxii. HOR. lih. iii. od. i.
I remember to have read of some military
officers, who crossing the Nile in the same
boat with the two Macarii of Egypt, said
to them, in allusion to their name, " You
are indeed happy who laugh at the world."
" Yes," said they, " it is evident that we
are happy, not merely in name but in
reality ; but you are unhappy, whom the
world derides, as poor creatures whom it
sees entangled in its snares."
St. Augustine also quotes from Politian a
similar example of a 1'retorian soldie", who,
walking out with his comrade, found in a
cottage into which he accidentally came, a
book containing the life of the hermit An-
thony, and when he had read a little in it,
looking upon his friend, said, " To what
are we taking so much pains to arrive ?
What do we seek ? For what do we go
through the fatigues of a military life ? The
highest of our hopes at court must be, to
share some extraordinary degree of the em-
peror's favour ; and how frail and dangerous
a situation is that ! And through how
many other previous dangers must we pass
to it ; and how soon will all the advantages
we can hope from it be over ! But I may
this moment, if I please, become the friend
and favourite of God." And he had no
sooner uttered these words, than they both
resolved upon quitting the world, that they
might give up all the remainder of their days
to religion.
Holy men in former ages did wonders in
conquering the world and themselves ; but
we, unhappy, degenerate, drowsy creatures
as we are, blush to hear that they did what
we cannot or will not do. We are indeed in-
clined to disbelieve the facts, and rather choose
to deny their virtues, than to confess our own
indolence and cowardice.
MEDITATIONS
ON PSALM xxxii.
Yit*. 1. Blessed is the man whose transgression is
forgiven, and whose sin is covered.
OH! the pure, the overflowing, the in.
comparably sweet fountain of Scripture !
" Hence light we draw, and fill the Sacred cup ;"*
Whereas the springs of philosophy in human
affairs are not very clear, and in divine, they
are quite turbid and muddy ; which one of
the greatest orators and philosophers among
them all freeiy confesses : " 1 think," says
he, " we are not only blind to true wisdom,
but are very dull and slow of apprehension
even in those things which seem to be dis-
cerned and understood. "+ Nor is this to
discover them if God keeps them veiled. "J
It would be a vain and ridiculous labour
to light up a great number of lanthorns and
torches, and go out and look for the sun in
the night ; but when the appointed hour of
morning comes, he rises, as of his own accord,
and freely manifests himself by his own
lustre, to every beholder. The wisest of the
Heathens undertook to find out the Supreme
Being, and the Supreme Good; but wander-
ing through the devious ways of multiplied
errors, they could attain to neither. Nor
was it the least of their errors, that they
sought them as two different things, when
it is most certain that both are united in
One. For it is the only and ultimate hap-
piness of man to be united to that first and
supreme Being and Good, from which he
drew his original. But since there has so
sad a distance and disagreement arisen be-
* Hinc lucem haurire est et pocula sacra.
t Mihi non modo ad sapientiam cseci videmur,
Bed ad ea ipsa, quse aliqua ex parte ceriii vide-
antur, hebetes et obtusi. SEN.
t AAA' ov yap av TO. 6eia icpvirrocTOs 0eou
Madot? an, ovS' ft, TTO.VT VTre£e\0oi<; <ricoir<av. Soph.
tween God and man, by our deplorable apoa-
tacy from him, there could not be the least
hope of attaining that union, did not infinite
goodness and mercy propose the full and free
pardon of our offences. So that the true deter,
ruination of this grand question about happi«
ness, is evidently this — Blessed and happy is
that man whose transgression is forgiven,
and whose sin is covered. Innocence was
the first means of obtaining happiness ; which
being once violated, the only plank that can
save us after our shipwreck, is repentance
and remission ; which two things the whole
scripture assures us, that the Divine wisdom
tine well observes, " That is instruction in-
deed, which teaches us that man is not saved
by the merit of his works, but by the grace
of God."*
Blesscd.~\ Or 0 ! blessed man 1 or 0 1
the felicity of that man ! and to denote the
most entire, supreme, and perfect blessed-
ness.f He only has attained to complete
felicity, whose numerous debts are remitted;
though far from being able to pay them, he
could not so much as reckon them up ; and
blessed is he that knows it, as the proverb
is, " No man is happy but he who thinks
himself so."|
The man whose iniquity is forgiven.]
As the word is nesevi, it might be rendered,
-Blessed is the man who is eased of the heavy
burden of his sin. A burden indeed too
heavy for the strongest man upon earth ; a
burden so dreadfully great, that God's an-
gels are not able to stand under it : for many
* Qua intelligitur non rneritis operum, sed
Dei gratia hominem liberari.
t As the elephant, to denote its vast bulk, is
spoken of in the plural number Behemoth.
t Non est beatus qui so non putat.
2.
ON PSALM XXXII.
653
of the chief of them were pressed down to
hell by it, and can rise no more. But though
no giant on earth or in heaven could bear it, a
lamb subjected himself to it : but it wa.sa.lamb
without blemish and without spot, burdened
with no load of his own sin, nor stained with
the least spot of pollution. The Lamb o
God, the Son of God, who is himself God,
is he 'o aioa» r?7v a.fj.a.'j'ri'j.t rou xiffftnu, who
t:ikes away all the sins of the world, as one
sin ; taking the burden upon himself, he
bears it and carries it away.
Covered.] That sinners may more clear-
ly apprehend, aud more easily and firmly be-
lieve a thing which seems so difficult to ad.
mit, as the free and full remission of sin, it
is painted out by various beautiful expres-
sions and figures in the sacred Scriptures —
washing, clcanting, blotting out, scattering
like a cloud, entirely forgetting, casting into
the bottom of the sea, and here by that of
taking away and covering, and by that
phrase which explains both, of not imput-
ing them ; and this expression of covering
them, is with great propriety added to the
former phrase of lightening the sinner of
the burden of them : and that there may be
no fear of their returning again, or coming
into sight, when God has not only taken the
heavy load from our shoulders, but for ever
hidden it from his own eyes, and the veil of
mercy has taken it away ; that great covering
of divine love, which is large enough to over-
spread so many and so great offences. Thus
it does as it were turn away the penetrating
eye of his justice, which the most secret ini-
quity could not elude, did not he himself in
pity voluntarily avert it.
But you will know what is our propitia-
tory, what the covering of the mercy-seat,
even Jesus who was typified by that Caporeth
in th3 temple, which the Septuagint renders
a.<TTxom nritnp.a, a pr9/iitiatory cover,
ing ; by which title our great Redeemer
is marked out, Rom. iii. 25, as the same
Hebrew word Capliar signifies both to cover
and to cxpiatf.* But that the thing may be
more evident aud certain, the thought is re-
peated again in the second verse.
VER. 2. Blessed is the man to whom the Lord im-
puteth not iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no
guile.
Aben-ezra paraphrases it, of ichote tins
God does not tftinkt does not regard them, so
as to bring them into judgment ; reckoning
them as if they were not, ou ftn Xoyi^-Txi,
does not count or calculate them, or charge
them to account ; does not require for them
the debt of punishment. To us the remis-
» It is to be observed, the Hebrew words Eschnl
baccopher, which some render a cluster of t.imphire:
Cant. i. 14, may with a little variation in the reading,
i e. reading it, Ish col haccapher, be rendered, a man
of all kinds of redemption, or of all expiation : so the
Targum interprets it by expiation, and, by the way,
*ome assert that this Psalm used to be sung on the day
of expiation.
sion is entirely free, our Sponsor having taken
upon him the whole business of paying the
ransom. His suffering is our impunity, his
bond our freedom, and his chastisement our
peace ; and therefore the Prophet says, The
chastisement of our peace was upon him, and
if by hit stripes \ce are healed. Distracted
creatures that we are, to indulge those sins
which brought death upon our dear Re-
deemer, and to be so cold in our affections to
that Redeemer who died for these sins !
This weighty sentence, of itself so admira-
ble, Paul renders yet more illustrious, by in-
serting it into his reasonings on the topic of
justification, as a celebrated testimony of that
great article of our faith. David, says he,
thus describeth the blessedness of that man,
saying, Blessed is he le/iote iniquities are for.
given. So that this is David's opinion con-
cerning true happiness ; he says not, blessed
are those that reign over kingdoms j blessed
are those generals who are renowned for their
martial bravery and success, though he him-
self had both these titles to boast of. It is
not the encomiums of the greatest multitudes,
nor the breath of popular applause, nor any
other degree of human honour, which entitles
a man to this character. It is not said,
blessed is he who ploughs many thousand
acres of land, or who has heaped together
mountains of gold and silver ; not he who
has married a beautiful and rich woman, or,
which in his age, or even now in those east-
ern countries might be the case, he who was
possessed of many such ; nor blessed is he
who understands the secrets of nature, or
even the mysteries of religion : but, Oh !
happy man whose sins are pardoned, and
to whom the Lord does not impute iniquity,
and in whose spirit there is no guile ;
whose breast is full, not of feigned repent-
ance, but of a fervent love of holiness, and
hatred of sin. This makes life happy, nay
absolutely blessed : but alas ! when we in-
culcate these things, we sing to the deaf.
The ignorance and folly of mankind will not
cease to pronounce the proud and the cove-
tous happy, and those who triumph in success-
ful wickedness, and who, in chase of these
lying shadows of happiness, destroy their
days and their years, and their souls.
" Alas," says the wise Roman, "how little
do some who thirst most impatiently after
glory, know what it is, or where to be
sought !"* which is equally applicable to
that true calm and serenity of mind which
all pursue, but few are able to attain. But
as for us who enjoy the celestial instruction
of this sacred volume, if we are ignorant of
it, our ignorance is quite inexcusable, obsti-
nate and affected, since we are wilfully blind
in the clearest and most refulgentlight. This
points out that good which can completelj
» Quam ignorant homines gloria: cupidi, qus ea sit
aut (juemadmodum petenda! SBV
654
MEDITATIONS
VER. 3
fill all the most extended capacities of the
human soul, and which we generally seek
for in vain on all sides, catching at it where
it is not to be found, but ever neglecting it
where alone it is. But is it then possible at
once to be solidly and completely happy ?
You have not merely the ideas of it, but the
thing itself, not only clearly pointed out, but
most freely offered, with divine munificence ;
so that if you do not obstinately reject the
offer, it must be your own ; and this happi-
ness consists in returning to the favour and
friendship of God, who most mercifully grants
us the free pardon of all our sins, if we do
with unfeigned repentance, and a heart free
of all guile, not only humbly confess and la-
ment them, but entirely forsake, and with
implacable hatred, for ever renounce them.
fl ftaxag,
; — all the
names, all the variety of felicities, bliss,
and happiness, are accumulated on that
man who has known this change of the right
hand of the Most High," on whom this
bright day of expiation and pardon has beam-
ed. He easily looks down from on high on
all the empty titles and false images of earth-
ly happiness ; and when he is bereaved of
them all, yea, and beset on every side with
what the world calls misfortunes and afflic-
tions, ceases not to be happy. In sorrow he
is joyful, in poverty rich, and in chains free ;
when he seems buried deep, so that not one
ray of the sun can reach him, he is surround-
ed with radiant lustre ; when overwhelmed
with ignominy, he glories ; and in death it-
self he lives, he conquers, he triumphs.
What can be heavy to that man, who is eased
of the intolerable burden of sin ? How ani-
mated was that saying of Luther, " Smite,
Lord, smite ; for thou hast absolved me from
my sins !"-f- Whose anger should he fear
who knows that God is propitious to him,
that supreme King, whose wrath it indeed the
messenger i>f death, but the light of his coun-
tenance is life ; who joys all by the rays of his
favour, and by one smile disperses the dark-
est cloud, and calms the most turbulent tem-
pest?
But we must now observe the complica-
tion of a two-fold good, in constituting this
felicity ; for we have two things here con-
ed as constituting any part of our justifying
righteousness before God, nor as only the
condition or sign of our felicity, but truly
and properly a part of it. Purity is the ac-
complishment of our felicity, begun on earth,
and to be consummated in heaven : that pu-
rity, I say, which is begun here, and shall
there be consummated. But if any one think
he can divide these two things, which the
hand of God has joined by so inseparable a
bond, it is a vain dream. Nay, by attempting
to separate these two parts of happiness, he
will, in fact, only exclude himself from the
whole. Jesus, our victorious Saviour, has
snatched us from the jaws of eternal death ;
but to be delivered from the cruel tyranny
and bonds of sin, and to be brought into the
blessed liberty of the sons of God, was ano-
ther essential part of our redemption ; and if
any one does not embrace this with equal
alacrity and delight as the other benefit, he
is a wretched slave of the most mean and
ignoble spirit ; and being equally unworthy
of both parts of this stupendous deliverance,
he will justly forfeit and lose both. And
this is the epidemical Antinomianism of the
Christian world, because they who labour
under it have nothing but the name of Chris-
tians ; they gladly hear of the pardon of
their sins and the salvation of their souls,
while they ar° averse to the doctrine of holi-
ness and repentance. It is a disagreeable
message, a ha:d saying, and who can bear
it ? But oh ! the incomparable charms of
holiness ! to be desired not only for the sake
of other benefits, which come in its train, bu\
especially for itself: so that he who is not
transported with a most ardent love to it, is
blind, and deserves to be thrust into the mill,
to tread that uncomfortable round, and to
grind there ; deserves to be a slave for ever
— since he knows nothow to use liberty when
offered to him. Shall the Stoic say, " The
servant of philosophy is truly free ;"* and
shall we scruple to assert the same concern-
ing pure religion and evangelical holiness ?
Now this freedom from guile, that fair sim-
plicity, of which the Psalmist speaks, is de-
servedly reckoned among the chief endow,
ments of a pure soul, and is here named in-
stead of all the rest, as nothing is more like
nected, as conspiring to make the person to tnat Gou" wno inspects the very heart ; in
spoken of blessed : The free remission of nothing do we so much resemble him ; and
sin, and the inward purification of the heart.
This simplicity, a.<p-\oTn;t is a most ex-
cellent part of purity, opposed to all wicked-
ness and arts of deceit : and, in common
speech, that which is simple, and has no
foreign mixture, is called pure. Pardon pre-
sents us as just and innocent before our
Judge ; and that sanctity is not to be regard -
* Alluding to Ps. Ixxvii. 10, where the vulgate ren-
ders Seuilt change, mutatio dextrai Kicelsi, and seve-
ral other versions neatly agree with it.
t Feri, Domine, feri ; nara a peccatis absulvisti me
therefore it is most agreeable to him, because
most like him. He is the most simple of
all beings, and is indeed truth itself, and
therefore he desires truth in the inward
parts, and hates a heart and a heart, as the
Hebrew phrase is to express those that are
double-hearted. And how much our bless-
ed Redeemer esteems this simplicity, we may
learn from the earnestness with which he in-
culcates it upon his disciples, that they
should be simple as doves, JMatth. x. 16.
• Qui philosophic inservit, est vert liber.
VEtt. 2.
ON PSALM XXXII.
655
We may also learn it from the honourable
testimony he bears to his character in Na-
thanael, when he pronounces him, John i.
47, aw Israelite indeed, in whom there is
no guile ; and especially from his own per-
fect example, as it is said of him, 1 Pet. ii.
22, He did no sin, neither was guile found
in his mouth. Perhaps the Psalmist might
the more willingly mention this virtue, as he
reflected with penitential distress on his crafty
and cruel attempt of covering that adultery
•which he had committed with the veil of
murder. But, however that was, it is cer-
tain, that this guileless sincerity of heart
holds the first rank in the graces that attend
true repentance. It may be sometimes our
duty to open our sins to men, by an ingenu-
ous confession ; but it is always our duty to
do it to God : who promises to cover them
only on this condition, that we do sincerely
uncover them ourselves. But if we affect
that which is his part, he will, to our un-
speakable damage, do that which he had as-
signed to us. If we hide them, he will bring
them into open light, and will discuss and
examine each with the greater severity.
He," says Ambrose, " who burdens him-
self, makes his error so much the lighter."*
" In proportion to the degree," says Tertul-
lian, " in which you are unwilling to spare
yourself, God will spare you."-|- But what
madness is it to attempt to conceal any ac-
iion from him, from whom, as Thales wise-
ly declares, " you cannot so much as conceal
a thought !":£ But, not now to insist upon
the impossibility of a concealment, a wise
man would not wish to cover his wounds and
his disease from that physician, from whose
skilful hand he might otherwise receive heal-
ing ; and this is what the Psalmist present-
ly after, for our instruction, confesses.
VER. 3. When I kept silence, my bones waxed old,
through my roaring all the day long.
WHILE he suppressed the ingenuous voice
of confession, the continually increasing
weight of his calamity extorted from him a
voice of roaring ; " while I would not speak
• as it became a guilty man, I was compelled
even to bellow like a beast."§ Nevertheless,
this wild roaring did not move the Divine
compassion, nor atone his displeasure.
VER. 4. For day and night thine hand was heavy
upon me ; my moisture is turned into the drought
of summer,
HITHERTO that voice was wanting, to
iwhich the bowels of the father always echo
back, the voice of a son full of reverence, and
ready to confess his errors ; without which,
cries and lamentations in misery, are no more
regarded in the sight of God, than the howl-
* Allevat errores ille qui se onerat.
t Quantum tibi non peperceris, tantum tibi parcel
i)eus.
|'O» on >.xtSiy'.i; «/Sl iixroviurtt-
I § Dum nolui loqui, ut hominem reum decet, mugire
oactus sum ut mum.
Ing of dogs ; according to that expression of
Hoseavii. 14, They have not cried unto
me with their heart, when they howled upon
their beds. A dog howls when he is hungry,
or when he is lashed : but from a son, when
he is chastened, acknowledgments of his
fault, and deprecations of his father's dis-
pleasure, are expected ; and when the son
thus acknowledges his offence, and intreats
for pardon, it is the part of a compassionate
father to forgive, and to spare. Nor do we
indeed confess our offences to our Father, as
if he were not perfectly acquainted with
them, but we fly to him who requires we
should repent, that he may not shew us by
punishment, those things which we avoid
shewing to him by confession. " I confess-
ed unto the Lord," says Augustine, " to
whom all the abyss of my sin and misery lay
open : so that if I did not confess whatever
was hidden in my heart, I should not hide
myself from him, but him from me."*
Thy hand was heavy upon me.] That
hand, which when pressing is so heavy, when
raising, is so sweet and powerful, (Psalm
xxxvii. 24,) and when scattering its bless-
ings, so full and so ample, Psalm civ. 28.
cxlv. 16. He would not at first be humbled
by the confession of his iniquity, and there-
fore he is humbled by the weight of the hand
of God. Oh powerful hand ! beyond all
comparison, more grievous than any other
hand to press down, and more powerful to
raise up. He who suppresses his sins with-
out confessing them,
Vulnus alit venii et cceco carpitur ignef
" Conceals an inward wound, and burns with secret
fire. "
Under the appearance of sparing, he is in-
deed cruel to himself; and when he has
drunk down iniquity, and keeps it within,
and it is not covered by the Divine forgive-
ness, it is like a poison, which consumes the
marrow in the midst of his bones, and dries',
up the vital moisture- It may, perhaps, oc-
casion more present pain to draw out the
point of the weapon which sticks in the flesh;
but to neglect it, will occasion greater danger,
and more future torment : nor will the dart
fall out by his running hither and thither,
but, on the contrary, as the poet expresses
it with respect to the wounded deer, it fixes
deeper and deeper. -|-
But the only healing herb that the sinner
can find is true repentance and humble con-
fession, not that which acknowledges sin in
a few slight words, when it has hardly look-
ed upon it and known it ; but that which
proceeds from a previous, true and vivid com-
punction of soul, and is inseparably attend-
ed with renovation and purity of heart and
* Ettibi, Domine, cujus oculis nuda abyssus, quid
occultum esset in me si non confiterer, non me tibi
absconderem, sed te mihi.
•f Ilia fuga sylvas saltusque peragrat
Dyctaeos, haeret later! lethalis arundo.
(556
MEDITATIONS
VER, 6;
life, so as comprehending this, it is some-
times put for the whole of repentance, 1 John
i. 9, // we confess our sins, he is faithful
and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse
us from all unrighteoutness- And so in the
psalm before us,
my tr „
gavest the iniquity of mysm.
TRUE and genuine repentance hath eyes
as it were on both sides, f^offia xia. eviiria
fiXiirii ; it looks back on sins already
committed, to lament them ; it looks for-
ward, and humbly resolves no more to com-
mil what it has lamented ; and each of these
is expressed by each of the words by which
repentance is signified, [*.ira.p.i\uK and /M-
Ta,v/>ia, which words are therefore used pro-
miscuously, both by the sacred writers and by
others. So that the received difference be-
tween them seems to me to have little foun-
dation ; for Phavorinus interprets the word
fj.'.Ta.vaioc., an anguish of soul, under a con-
sciousness of having acted a foolish and
absurd part, and the Latin has the same sig-
nification, if we will admit the judgment of
Gellius, who seems to have been a very ac-
curate critic in affairs of that nature. He
observes, " We are said to repent of things,
whether our own actions, or those of others,
which have been performed by our advice or
instigation, which do afterwards displease
us ; so that we change our judgment concern-
ing them."* But we will waive all further
concern about words ; the thing itself de-
mands our greatest attention. I entirely
agree with him who said, " I had rather feel
the inward working of repentance, than know
the most accurate description and definition
of it."-f- Yet how averse sinners are to this
free though useful and salutary confession of
sin, abundantly appears from this example
of so great a man as the Psalmist, when
taken in this unhappy snare ; for he confess-
es that he lay long as senseless and stupid
in that quagmire into which he was fallen,
and that it was with difficulty that he was
as it were racked into a confession, by such
exquisite tortures both of body and mind.
On the other hand, the gracious readiness of
the Father of mercies to grant pardon, is so
much the more evident, as on the first word
of confession that he uttered, or rather
the first purpose that he formed in his
mind, immediately the pardon, the full
and free pardon, came down signed, as in
the court of heaven — I said, I will confess,
and thou forgavest. O admirable clemency !
It requires nothing but that the offender should
* Poenitere turn dicere solemus, cum qua; ipsi fee i-
mus, aut quse dc nostra voluntate nostrpque consilio
facta sunt, ea nobis post incipiunt displicere, senten-
tiamque in iis nostram demutamus.
t Malo sentire compunctionem, quam scire ejus de-
finitionera. Thorn, a Kempis, L. i. C i
plead guilty, and this not that it may more
freely punish, but more liberally forgive. He
requires that we should condemn ourselves,
that so he may absolve us.
VER. 6. For this shall every one that is godly pray
unto thee, in a time when thou mayest l>e found !
Surely in the floods of great waters, they shall not
come nigh unto him.
THIS is the joyful message, this is the
great doctrine of the gospel, which opens the
first door of hope to sinners ; that God is
capable of being appeased, yea that he is at-
tually appeased ; that he freely offers peace
and favour to those who have deserted him,
when they return to his obedience ; that he
runs forth to meet them, and to receive them
with a most affectionate embrace ; and hav.
ing so importunately intreated our return,
will not despise those who are treading back
with prayers and tears the fatal path which
their folly had chosen. This is what we so
frequently read in scripture, that the Lord is
gracious and very merciful, slow to anger
and ready to pardon. If he were not such,
who could dare to approach him ? But seeing
he is such a God, who should refuse or delay
his return ? Surely every rational and pious
mind will without delay invoke so gentle
and mild a Lord ; will pray to him while
he is exorable, or as the Hebrew expresses
it, in a time of finding ; for he who promises
pardon, does not promise to-morrow. There
are the tempora fandi, certain times in which
he may he spoken with, and a certain ap.
pointed day of pardon and grace, which if
a man by stupid perverseness despise, or bj
sloth neglect, surely he is justly overwhelmed
with eternal night and misery, and must ne.
cessarily perish by the deluge of divine
wrath — since he has contemned and derided
that ark of salvation which was prepared, and
in which, whoever enters into it shall be
safe, while the world is perishing. Though
all be one unbounded sea — a sea without
shore ; yet, as it is here said, the greatest
inundation, the floods of deep waters shall
not come nigh unto him. This the Psalmist
exhorts those that have experienced it to
teach, and determines himself so to retain it
with deep attention, and firm faith in his own
mind, as in the following verse.
Verse 7- Thou art my hiding-place,
thou hast been, and wilt ever be so. Thouhast
surrounded, and thou wilt surround me with
songs of deliverance, even me who was so
surrounded with clamours of sin. Where
he further intimates, that songs of praise are
perpetually to be offered to God our deliverer.
And, that these faithful admonitions and
counsels may meet with greater attention and
regard, he offers himself to us as a most be-
nevolent teacher and leader.
Verse 8 — 11. I will instruct thee, and
teach thee in the way in which thou shall
go, cj-c-l See to if. only that thou be tract
VEtt. 8, &C.
ON PSALM XXXII.
657
able, and do not with a brutal obstinacy and
fierceness repel this friendly and wise counsel,
as only capable of being governed by violence,
like a mule or unbroken horse, which must
be held in by bit and bridle. Such indeed
are the greatest part of men, whom the phi-
losophers, with great severity indeed, but
with too much justice, called fiovyivri av$g/>-
Ta£K, " wild bulls with human faces."
But it is added, as the sum of all admoni-
tion, and the great axiom most worthy of re-
gard, that many sorrows shall be to the wick-
ed ; the Septuagint renders it, many are the
scourges of the sinner ;* but Mercy shall
embrace those that hope in the Lord. And
the Psalm concludes with this as the burden
of it — Rejoice in the Lord, ye righteous, and
shout for joy, all ye that arc upright in
heart. Truly, my dear friends,-f I have no-
* UoXXxi /j.a.afTiyt( KU.X(TU\OU- ,
t The word Juvenes, or my dear youths, occurs
here and in several other places, as these lectures were
delivered to a society of young theological students ;
thing farther to wish for myself or you, than
that we may heartily believe these things,
for then it will be impossible that we should
not with open arms embrace true religion, and
clasp it to our hearts ; since nature teaches
every one to desire happiness, and to fly from
misery. So that Epicurus himself would
teach us to lay hold on joy and pleasure, as
the ra vgurot oix,ua»} or first and proper good.
This, therefore, let us lay down as a certain
principle, and ever adhere to it, that we may
not, like brute beasts, remain in subjection
to the flesh — that safety, and joy, and all hap-
piness, is the property of him who is possessed
of virtue, and that all virtue is comprehended
in true piety ; and let us remember what the
Prophet adds, (according to the Greek trans-
lators,*) as the necessary consequence of
this principle, that to the wicked there can
be no joy.
but it did not seem necessary to make the translatkm
so exactly literal.
* OVK trn £tu(U» TO/,- uriCtn.
2 T
MEDITATIONS
ON PSALM cxxx.
VBR. 1. Out of the depths have I cried unto thee,
OLord.
IT is undoubtedly both an useful and plea-
sant employment, to observe the motions of
great and heroic minds, in great and arduous
affairs ; but that mind only is truly great,
and superior to the whole world, which does
in the most placid manner subject itself to
God, securely casting all its burdens and
cares upon him ; in all the uncertain altera-
tions of human affairs, looking at his hand,
and fixing its regard upon that alone. Such
ihe royal prophet David declares himself
every where to have been, and no where more
evidently than in this Psalm, which seems
in this respect boldly to plead the cause of
God. " God (says the Roman sage) loves
his own people truly, but he loves them
severely ; as the manner in which fathers
express their love to their children, is ge-
nerally very different from that of mothers ;
they order them to be called up early to their
studies, and suffer them not to be idle in
those days when their usual business is in-
terrupted ; but sometimes put them on la-
bouring till the sweat flows down, and some-
times by their discipline excite their tears ;
while the mother fondles them in her bosom,
keeps them in the shade, and knows not how
to consent that they should weep or grieve or
to have been composed by him. He lifts up j labour. God bears the heart of a Father to
his head amidst surrounding waves, and, j good men, and there is strength rather than
directing his face and his voice to heaven, ' tenderness in his love ; they are therefore
he says, Out of the depths, O Lord, do I
cry unto thee. For so I would render it,
as he does not seem to express a past fact,
but, as the Hebrew idiom imports, a prayer
which he was now actually presenting.
Out of the depths.] Being as it were im-
mersed and overwhelmed in an abyss of
misery and calamities. It is indeed the
native lot of man, to be born to trouble, as
the spark (the children of the coal, as the
original expression signifies) to fly upward.
Life and grief are congenial ;* but men who
are born again, seem, in a redoubled propor-
tion, to be twice born to trouble ; with so
many and so great evils are they as it were
laden, beyond all other men, and that to
such a degree, that they may seem as it
were sometimes to be oppressed with them.
And if any think this is strange, surely, as
the Apostle expresses it, he cannot see afar
off,
at best, he only looks at the
surfaces of things, and cannot penetrate far
into those depths. For even the philoso-
phers themselves, untaught by divine revela-
tion, investigated admirable reasons for such
dispensations of providence, and undertook
» . n
« tl, «t«
,
**< ?>»,.
exercised with labours, sorrows, and losses,
that they may grow robust : whereas, were
they to be fattened by luxurious fare, and in-
dulged in indolence, they would not only
sink under fatigues, but be burdened with
their own unwieldy bulk."* Presently after
he quotes a remarkable saying of Demetrius
the Cynic, -f- to this purpose, " He seems
to be the unhappiest of mankind, who has
never been exercised with adversity, as he
cannot have had an opportunity of trying the
strength of his own mind." To wish to
pass life without it, is to be ignorant of one
part of nature, so that I may pronounce
thee to be miserable, if thou hast never been
miserable. If thou hast passed through
life without ever struggling with an enemy,
* Vere suos am.it et severe Deus. Multo aliter
pntros, aliter matres indulgent; illi liberos ad studia
obeunda mature excitari jubent, feriatis quoque diebui
non patiuntur otinsos, et saepe sudorem illis, et inter-
ihim lachrymas excutiunt : at matres fovere in sinu,
in umbra continere volunt ; nunquam Here, nunquam
tristari, nunquam laborare. Patrium habet Dcu*
ad versus bonos viros animum, et illos fortius amat:
et operibus, doloribus, ac damnis exagitantur, ut
verum colligant robur. Languent per inertiam sagi-
n«nuneclabore tantum, sedetmole, etipsosuionere
! t Nihil mini videtur infelicius eo, cui nihil unquaip
cTei,crit advtrsi : non licuit illi se expertri
TEU. 1.
MEDITATIONS ON PSALM CXXX.
059
whether thou art able to make any resistance ;
whereas, in afflictions, we experience, not
so much what our own strength is, as what
is the strength of God in us : and what the
aid of divine grace is, which often bears us
up under them to a surprising degree, and
makes us joyful by a happy exit ; so that we
shall be able to say, My God, my strength,
and my deliverer. Thus the church be-
comes conspicuous in the midst of the flames,
like the burning bush, through, the good
will of him that dwelt in it, and when it
seems to be overwhelmed with waters, God
brings it out of them, cleansed and beauti-
fied ; mergas prof undo, pulchrior exilit — he
plunges it in the deep, and it rises fairer than
before-
We will not here maintain that paradox
of the Stoics, That evils which happen to
good men, are not to be called evils at all ;
hope, for this false, polluted, and deadly joy ;
and lest, dissolved in pleasure, the heaven-
born soul should be broke under the yoke of
this pernicious flesh, the root of so many
passions." Lastly, we see how much vigour
and vehemence affliction adds to prayer : for
the divine Psalmist, the deeper he sinks,
cries to God in so much the louder accents,
out of the deeps have I cried.
This prayer contains those precious virtues,
which, in a grateful temperature, render
every prayer acceptable to God — faith, fervour,
and humility. Faith, in that he prays out
of the deeps : fervour, in that he cries ; and
both again expressed in the next word, faith,
as in the midst of surrounding calamities he
does not despair of redress, fervour, as he
urges it with repeated importunity, and the
same word uttered again and again. And,
to complete all, humility expresses itself in
what follows, where he speaks as one that
which, however, is capable of a very good i felt himself sinking, as one who was plunged
sense, since religion teaches us, that the great- in a sea of iniquities, as well as calamities,
est evils are changed, and work together for
good ; which comes almost to the same
thing, and perhaps was the true meaning of
the Stoics. Banishment and poverty are
indeed evils in one sense, t. e. they have
something hard and grievous in them : but
when they fall on a good and brave man,
they seem to lay aside the malignity of their
nature, and become tame and gentle. The
very sharpness of them excites and exercises
virtue : by exciting, they increase it, so that
the root of faith shoots the stronger, and
i fixes the deeper, and thereby adds new
strength to fortitude and patience ; and as
we see in this example before us, affliction
does, by a happy kind of necessity, drive the
soul to confess its sin, to fly as it were to
seek its refuge under the wing of the Divine
goodness, and to fix its hope upon God ;
and this is certainly one great advantage
which the pious soul gains by adversity, that
it calls away the affections from earth and
earthly things, or rather tears them away,
when obstinately adhering to them. It is
necessary that they suffer such hardships as
these, as one expresses it,* lest they should
love this inconvenient stable, in which they
are now obliged to lodge, as if it were their
own house. It is necessary that they should
perceive that they are strangers and foreign-
ers upon earth, that they may more fre-
quently, and with more ardent desire, groan
after that better country, and often repeat it,
i eiKif <fi\tf, eiKos agiTTos, — dear home ! most
desirable home ! The children and heirs
of the kingdom, must be weaned by worm-
I wood, lest they should be so enchanted by
the allurements of the flesh, and the poisonous
sweetness of secular enjoyments, as to barter
away the true and pure joy of their blessed
| • Expedit omnino ut hie dura exneriantur, nr
bulum ament pro domo sua.
and acknowledges he was so overwhelmed
with them, as to be unable to stand, unless
supported by pure mercy and grace. If thou,
Lord, shouldest mark iniquities, who shall
stand ? Thus here again, faith manifests
itself more clearly, together with its kindred
affections of hope and charity, which, like
three graces, join their hands, and by an in-
separable union support each other. You
have faith in the 4th verse, there is forgive-
ness with thee ; hope in the 5th, / wait for
the Lord, my soul doth wait, and in thy
word do I hope ; charity in the 7th and
8th, where he does in a most benevolent
manner invite all Israel to a communion of
the same faith and hope ; and in order to
confirm them more abundantly, does in a
most animated manner proclaim the riches
of the Divine benignity. Such is the com-
position of this excellent prayer, which, thus
compounded, like a pillar of aromatic smoke
from myrrh, frankincense, and every other
most fragrant perfume, ascends grateful to the
throne of God. And this you may take in-
stead of the analysis of the remaining verses,
which to handle by a more minute dissection
of words, and to clothe in the trite phrases of
the schools, to speak freely, would be as bar-
ren and useless as it is easy and puerile.
And, indeed, I cannot but form the same
judgment of the common way of catching at
a multitude of observations from any scrip-
ture, and of pressing it with violence, as if
remarks were to be estimated by number
rather than weight, propriety, and use. But
here let every one follow his own genius and
taste ; for we are willing to give the liberty we
take, Veniam damns petimusque vicissim.
Out of the depths.] O ! the immortal
power of divine faith, which lives and
breathes in the midst of the waves, in which
it may be plunged, but cannot be sunk
under any of the hugest billows ; but raises
itself, and the soul in which it resides, and
emerges and swims above all, psXA.0? u; K£«.X-
•riirros, (like cork which will still be above
water,) having this in common with that
divine love, of which Solomon speaks in
his Song, that many waters cannot quench
it. Whatever great things the Stoics may
speak of their wise men, and whatever all
philosophy may say of fortitude, it is divine
faith that truly and heartily performs all, by
which the good man, though stript of every
help and comfort, wraps himself up as it
were, not in his own virtue and strength,
but in that of God ; and hence it is that he
cannot be conquered by any tyranny, by any
threatenings, by any calamities of life, by
any fear of death ; for he leans upon Omni-
potence. The Lord, says he, is my light
and my salvation, whom shall I fear ?
The Lord is the strength of my life, of
whom shall I be afraid ? Let war arise, let
the enemy measure out his tents against me,
I, says faitJa, am secure tinder the shadow
of the Most High, and, embracing him. I
will fear nothing.
You have here the Psalmist crying with
confidence out of the deeps. Behold also
the prophet Jonah indeed, and, as we say,
literally, in the depths, and in a circumstance
which might have greater efficacy to shake
his faith, than the sea itself, than the bowels
of the fish, or any other depth into which he
might be cast, as he was not entirely free
from blame, but with the intermingling
guilt of his own perverseness ; yet among all
these discouragements, his faith is not swal-
lowed up : / have cried unto thee in my
distress, and from the very belly of hell.
Thou hast cast me into the deep, and all
thy waves were going over me. So that I
might truly say, / am cast out from thy
sight, yet at the same time I said, / will
look again toward the temple of thy holiness.
I went down to the root and cavern of the
mountains ; the abyss surrounded me ; yet
when my soul was thus overwhelmed within
me, I remembered the Lord. You have,
among others, an excellent example of faith
in David, 1 Sam. xxx., when the invadir.g
enemy had burnt Ziklag, had carried the
women captive, and the people, in the mad-
ness of their rage and grief, spake of stoning
David himself; yet besieged with all these
miseries, he strengthens himself in the Lord
his God. Nor can any thing have greater
depth and strength than that expression of
Job, Though he slay me, yet will I trust
in him; not only when fainting and dying,
but while expiring, as it were, of the wound
which I had received from the hand of God
himself, yet will I hope for life and salva-
tion, from that very hand which has given
me death ; and in the jaws of death, would
MEDITATIONS VEIL 1
send me out this last word with the last
breath, and with my departing soul, " De-
stroy not, O Lord, one that trusteth in thee."
Nor is this confidence of a pious soul, an
opinion fluctuating among the waves, or a
light conjecture that it shall raise its head
above them ; but a certain, firm, and infal-
lible assurance. That is a vulgar and weak
word of comfort, " To-morrow may be better
than to-day."* But the language of divine
faith is stronger and firmer, even when deep
calls unto deep, and most certainly deter-
mines that it will not be in vain : and, there-
fore, in the 42d Psalm, not dubious and
trembling, but with a steady voice, he silences
all the noisy tumults of an agitated mind,
and says, Repose thyself on God, for I
shall still praise him ; or, as it may be ren-
dered, / am going to praise him ; q. d.
" Amidst all those tempests which rage about
me, I am thinking of that hymn of praise
which I shall pay to him for my deliverance,
and for the happy exit out of all my sorrows."
Though at present we have nothing in sight
but darkness, and whirlwinds, and rocks,
and the raging, foaming sea, let the skill
and power of the great Pilot be opposed to
all th^se. And what the Psalmist says else-
where of sailors, may evidently be applied
to those that go down into this sea : they
gain this by their dangers, that they see the
works of this great Pilot in the abyss, and
contemplate these wonders in the deep.
And he who gives himself up to His care,
and fixes his eye and hope wholly on him,
though he be, or rather seem to be, ship-
wrecked, and lose all his goods, yet if he
does not make shipwreck of faith, he loses
nothing that is properly his own. Nay, when
he is swallowed up in the abyss of death, he
does not perish, but swims through it, to the
further shore of eternity, where he finds a
banquet, a palace prepared for him, and a
kingdom that cannot be moved, but remains
to endless ages.
/ cried. ] Prayer is the natural and genuine
voice of the children of God ; and as the
Latin word oratio properly signifies articu-
late speech, as it distinguishes man from
other animals, so in this other signification
it expresses that by which the godly are dis-
tinguished from the rest of mankind. It is
the proper idiom of the citizens of heaven :
others may recite some words of prayer, but
they do not pray. As parrots and other
birds, by the industry of their teacher, may
learn to imitate human voices, yet they do
not speak ; there is something wanting in
all their most skilful chattering, which is the
very thing that is also wanting in the lan-
guage of most that are said to pray, and
that is mind and meaning, affections corre-
spondent to the words, or rather to which
the words may conform, as to their original
VEH. 1, 2.
ON PSALM CXXX.
CGI
cause, and of which they may be the true Oh ! how true is that saying "that faith
index and sign. The spirit of this world
knows not how to pray, nor does a spirit of
adoption and liberty know how to forbear
praying ; the spirit of adoption, says the
apo.stle, by which we cry, Abba, Father ;
nor can they who are newly born by that
spirit, live without frequent prayer. Prayer
is to them as the natural and necessary re-
spiratiory>f that new and divine life, as, Lam.
iii. 56, turn not atvay from my breathing :
the Hebrew word there made use of, leru-
hethi, properly signifies the vital respiration
of animals. Yet notwithstanding all this,
what we said above is true, and evidently
appears from the passage before us, that af-
fliction often adds vigour to prayers, how
lively and assiduous soever they may have
been before. Let it be so, that prayer is the
natural language of believing souls, by which
they daily address their heavenly Father ;
yet when they are pressed with any uncom-
mon pain or danger, it is no less natural that
this voice should be louder than ordinary,
and should be raised into a cry ; it is, in-
deed, the breath of faith and heavenly affec-
tions, and when they are vehemently pressed
by any burden, and almost expiring under
it, they breathe quicker than before, and with
greater effort. Thus they who have been
used to the greatest heights of daily devo-
tion, yet in surrounding calamities pray more
fervently and more frequently than ordinary,
and this is to be numbered among the chief
benefits attending afflictions ; and it would
surely be well worth our while to experience
all the hardest pressures of them, if we may
gain this ; that the languor, and sloth, and
stupidity, into which our minds and our souls
are ready insensibly to sink, while all is calm
and serene about us, may be happity shaken
off by something which the world may call
an unhappy event ; that some more violent
gust of wind may fan the sacred flame, that
seems almost extinguished, and blow it up
into greater ardour. It will be happy for us,
that, witli the Psalmist, we should some-
times sink in deep waters, that so we, who
in prosperity do but whisper or mutter out
our prayers, may from the depths cry aloud
unto him. O how frequently and how ar-
dently did David pray in the deserts and the
caves ! And it is he who here cries out of
the deep, and perhaps these deep recesses are
those from which he was now crying ; but
when secure amidst the ease and delights of
:the court, and walking at leisure on his
house-top, was tempted by his own wandering
.prayer, burnt with impure fires. Our vows
are cruel to ourselves, if they demand no-
thing but gentle zephyrs, and flowery fields,
and calm repose, as the lot of our life ; for
these pleasant things often prove the most
dangerous enemies toournobleranddearerlife.
is safe when in danger, and in danger when
secure; and prayer fervent in straits, but in
joyful and prosperous circumstances, if not
quite cold and dead, at least lukewarm !"
Oh ! happy straits, ifMhey hinder the mind
from flowing forth upon earthly objects, and
mingling itself with the mire ; if they fa-
vour our correspondence with heaven, and
quicken our love to celestial objects, without
which, what we call life may more properly
deserve the name of death.
VER. 2. Lord, hear my voice, let thine ears be at-
tentive to the voice of my supplications.
WE see that he was not only in earnest,
which comparatively few that pray are, but
that his desires were vehement, and kindled
into a flame, which is the case of yet fewer.
The smoke of the incense will not rise to
heaven, unless it be kindled on the altar ;
and hence it is that a great part of our pray-
ers vanish like an empty sound, and are dis-
sipated in the air. Nor is it wonderful, as
we have elsewhere observed, that those peti-
tions do not ascend which hardly go out,
that go not forth from the depth of the breast,
and therefore they rise not on high, but are
born and die upon the lips. And how should
they live when they have no principle of life,
neither the constancy of faith nor the love of
zeal ? And if he who asks timorously, su
much more he that asks with cold indiffer-
ence, may seem to bespeak a denial.
It is not the much speaking and the vain
repetition condemned in the gospel, to re-
double the same words again and again, pro-
vided it be not from want of care and affec-
tion, but if, on the contrary, it proceed from
the vehemence and exuberance of it. The
great Apostle tells us, that he besought the
Lord thrice ; and the Lord of the Apostle,
and our Lord, prayed in the garden again
and again, speaking the same words.
He that pours out his words, inattentive to
what he is about, seems to me to pray long,
if he utters but two sentences ; though his
words be ever so few and well chosen, yet
is he himself foolish and verbose. For what
can be more foolish than the empty noise
even of the best words, when they express
nothing of the mind ? But he who conti-
nues long in prayer, and urges the same peti-
tions again and again, bursting out from the
fervour of an inflamed breast, he, truly,
prays in a vivid and solid manner, and in a
manner most acceptable to God ; and what
Fabius says of his orator, may, with great
propriety, be applied to him : Pectus est,
eyes, and having intermitted the fervour of quod disertum facit, et vis mentis — It is the
heart, and the energy of the mind, that makes
a man truly eloquent.
Hear me. ] The great Author of nature
and of all things, does nothing in vain ; he
instituted not this law, and, if I may so ex-
press it, art of praying, as a vain and insig-
CC2
MEDITATION'S
VER. 2.
nificant thing, but endow* it with a wonder-
ful efficacy, for producing the greatest and
happiest consequences. He would have it
to be the key by which all the treasures of
heaven should be opened ; he has construct-
ed it as a powerful machine, by which we
may, with easy and pleasant labour, remove
from us the most dire and unhappy machi-
nations of our enemy, and may with equal
ease draw to ourselves what is most propi-
tious and advantageous. Heaven and earth,
and all the elements, obey and minister to the
hands which are often lifted up to heaven in
earnest prayer. Yea, all the works, and,
which is yet more and greater, all the words
of God obey it. Well known in the sacred
Scriptures are the examples of Moses and
Joshua : and which James (v. 17) particu-
larly mentions of Elijah, whom he expressly
calls ou.iiova.0r,;, a man subject to like in-
firmities with ourselves, that he might illus-
trate the admirable force of prayer, by the
common and human weakness of the person
by whom it was offered. And that Chris-
tian legion under Antoninus is well known
and justly celebrated, which, for the singular
ardour and efficacy of its prayers, obtained
the name of xsjat/vaSoA-f, the thundering
legion.
It is true indeed, that our desires and
hearts are open to God, when our tongues
are entirely silent, and that he has a paternal
regard to all our concerns ; nor do we utter
our petitions to him, as if he were ignorant
or negligent of our necessities and desires,
for we well know that he sees and hears
every thing — T«VT" ityaga xeti iravr' tvaieo
It is also true that his counsels are all fixed
and immoveable ; but it can by no means be
inferred from these premises, that the busi-
ness of prayer is vain and needless ; and ii
any one would represent these things as
.superseding prayer, surely he deceives him-
self, and by all his reasonings would make
out nothing, unless it were to convict him-
self of a vast ingratitude to the Divine muni-
ficence, and a most shameful unworthiness
of so excellent a gift.
Ought not this intercourse of men with
God by prayer to be most reverently and
gratefully received and cultivated by all,
and numbered among the chief favours
of the divine, and dignities of the human
nature ? And truly this, as much as any
thing that can be imagined, is a lamentable
argument of the stupidity of man, in this
fallen state, that such an honour is so little
regarded. Opportunities of conversing with
nobles or princes of the earth, are rare and
short ; and if a man of inferior station be
admitted to such a favour, he glories in it,
as if he were raised to heaven ; though they
are but images made of the same clay with
himself, and only set upon a basis a little
higher than the rest : but the liberty of daily
and free converse with the King of heaven
is neglected for every trifle, and indeed is
counted as nothing, though his very aspect
alone fills so many myriads of blessed spirits
above with full and perpetual felicity.
Again, is it not most reasonable to ac-
knowledge, by this spiritual sacrifice of
prayer, his infinite-power and goodness, and
that most providential care by which he
governs all human affairs ? And when our
very being and life depend upon him, and all
the comfort and happiness of life, how con-
gruous is it to exhibit this sign and token of
his holding us by the hand, and of our being
borne up by him ! Again, what sweeter leni-
tive of all those miseries with which moral
life so continually abounds, can be invented,
than this, to pour out all our care and trouble
into his bosom, as that of a most faithful
friend, and affectionate father ? Then does
the good man lay himself down to sleep with
sweet composure,, in the midst of waves and
storms, when he has lulled all the care and
sorrows of his heart to sleep, by pouring out
his prayer to God. And, once more, how
pleasant is it, that these benefits, which are
of so great a value both on their own account,
and that of the Divine benignity from whence
they come, should be delivered into our
hands, marked as it were with this grateful
inscription, That they have been obtained by
prayer I
Hear, O Lord.] It is certain that the
greater part of men, as they babble out vain,
languid, and inefficacious prayers, most un-
worthy the ear of the blessed God ; so they
seem in some degree to set a just estimate
upon them, neither hoping for any success
from them, nor indeed seeming to be at all
solicitous about it, but committing them to
the wind, as vain words, which in truth they
are. But far be it from a wise and pious
man, that he should so foolishly and coldly
trifle in so serious an affair ; his prayer has
a certain tendency and scope, at which he
aims with assiduous and repeated desires,
and doth not only pray that he may pray,
but that he may obtain an answer : and as he
firmly believes that it may be obtained, so
he firmly, and constantly, and eagerly, urges
his petition, that he may not flatter himself
with an empty hope ; for it cannot be, that
any pious and reasonable desire should be
directed toward the throne of God in vain,
since he has been pleased to assume it among
his titles, that he is a God hearing prayer.
And certainly, though the good man does not
always obtain the very thing that he asks, yet
pure and right petitions never ascend in vain ;
but he who presents them, either obtains the
thing he asks, or receives, instead of what is
pleasing, what is truly profitable, and, instead
of the things that he wishes for, those that are
upon the whole the fittest and best, and that
in the fittest and best time : therefore the
VEU. 2.
ON PSALM CXXX.
vehemence of prayer is to be attempered with
patience and long-suffering expectation. W
often put oarselves as it were out of breath
with the eagerness of speaking, and are pre-
sently weary, if we do not immediately ob-
tain our request. Our prayers are often like
those of the damsel who danced before Herod,
/ will that thou presently give me this or
that ; whereas he that prays fervently, urge
this, that God would make haste to help
him ; but, in the mean time, as he believes,
will not make haste, nor will he suffer, il
the delay be ever so long, that a speech like
that of the impious king of Israel should es-
cape him — This evil is of the Lord, and
why should I wait for the Lord any longer ?
2 Kings vi. 33.
But O ! how necessary is it, that souls
worshipping so pure a God, should be purged
from all the earthly dregs of impure affec-
tions ! most true is that oracle of the Psalm-
ist, // / regard iniquity in my heart, the
Lord will not hear my prayer. The hands
must be washed in innocence before they can
be lifted up to him with acceptance. Draw
near to God, says the apostle James, and he
will draw near to you ; but in order to this,
he subjoins, Cleanse your hands, ye sinners,
and purify your hearts, ye hypocrites, or
ye double-minded, who are the impurest of
all. These things we only briefly suggest ;
but I beseech you, my dear charge, that ye
embrace this divine study, that you labour
to obtain this sacred art, which is the best
and only way of being enriched with all the
most valuable blessings, even those of a celes-
tial origin and tendency. O think ! it is
nothing unpleasant, nothing low and con-
temptible, to which you are now invited ;
on the contrary, that there is nothing more
delightful, nothing more sublime, than to
meditate upon heavenly objects, to converse
with God, and from thence to imbibe a con-
tempt of this low and transitory world, to
be raised above all perishing enjoyments, and
to taste the prelibations of that celestial life
itself.
But how accurately soever the precepts of
this divine oratory may be delivered, none
will effectually receive them, unless they are
taught the skill by God himself. We must
pray that we may be able to pray, and draw
as it were from that superior academy, that
faculty of pure and pious speech which flies
as with a swift, ready, and natural motion,
to heaven from whence it came, and brings
down with it the most precious gifts into the
bosom of the person that utters it ; and, by
the way, it is a most certain truth, that the
greatest blessings are much more easily ob-
tained from the great GOD, who is so muni-
ficent in his gifts, than others of a meaner
nature ; so that it were an argument of a low
and abject mind, not to ask something noble
und excellent : covet earnestly the best gifts,
in this sense. If we ask only things of a
low and trifling nature, unworthy such a
giver, he may answer, as a prince did,
<< These are not royal gifts," au /W;u*s» r,
$*{«•« : but if we ask those things that are
most precious and valuable — grace and glory,
there will be no room to fear that denial, ««*
«>^a;r;v« TO *.*/*/**, it is not fit for a man
to receive it. If you who are evil know how
to give good gifts to your children, how much
more your heavenly Father ! Surely he is
goodness itself, and he only gives what is
good ; and the better those things are that
we ask, the more freely and cheerfully does
he bestow them ; and you know, Luke, re-
peating the same speech, expresses it, by say-
ing, He shall give the Holy Spirit to them
that ask it ; than which nothing more noble
can be either desired or bestowed.
VBR. 3. If thou, Lord, shouldest mark iniquities
O Lord, who shall stand ?
AMONG all the virtues which are necessary
to offer up our prayers with acceptance, none
ascend with greater velocity, and rise higher,
:bwi that very humility which causes them,
as 't were, to descend the deepest of all : nor
is there any more indubitable argument of
humility, than a conscience which groani
under the burden of its own sin and guilt,
among all the abyss of calamities, crying es-
pecially from this depth. And thus we see
the Psalmist, while he involves all other
evils, how great soever they might be, under
one common title, fixed upon this to expa-
tiate upon it at large, If thou, Lord, should,
est mark iniquities, &c. Thus, if any one
desire to mount more readily and more favour-
ably from the depth of calamity, let him cry
from this depth of profound humility, and
plead a penitent sense of sin ; for though of
all imaginable depths, that of sin be the
most remote from the most high and most
holy God, yet the depth of the humble soul,
depressed under the weight of sin, is nearest
of all to the deep bowels of Divine mercy ;
so that the words of the Psalmist may not
improperly be accommodated to this, though
in a sense something different from that which
in their connexion they bear, deep calls unto
deep ; and, by an harmonious kind of anti-
phony, if I may be allowed the expression,
they do most musically answer to each other.
One might have been ready perhaps to
Imagine, from the vehemence with which he
aegins his address, and from his groanings,
as it were, so thick and so short, that he was
something of a bold petitioner, that he had
some confidence in himself; that he presum-
ed to knock as it were so often and so loud
at the door of Divine mercy. But what he
lere adds plainly shews, that this was far from
>eing the case — " Hear me, O Lord, hear
me ; and I urge the request, because neces-
sity presses urgently upon me. Not that I
CfM
MEDITATIONS
am, or judge myself to be, one who can merit
thine assistance ; but that I stand in such
need of it, that if it be not granted me, I
must perish. So far am I from being, or ap-
pearing to myself worthy of thy help, that,
behold I am overwhelmed with sin more than
with sorrows. It is free mercy that I invoke,
and I beseech thee, that in order to thy hear-
ing the voice of my prayer, thou wouldest not
hearken to the cry of my sins. Wash away the
one, that thou mayest graciously smile upon
the other: for, If thou, Lord, shouldest mark
iniquity, who could stand 9 Intimating,
that if he were drawn out of the other depths,
yet if his sins continued unremitted, he could
find no place on which to stand ; yea, if it
were possible for him in that case to fly away,
and hide himself, yet he would rather plunge
himself into these depths again, and would
rather be, as it were, buried and lost in floods
of the greatest calamities, than meet the more
dreadful flame of the Divine anger and in-
dignation.
But this humble acknowledgment of his
own unworthiness and pollution, is so far
from being inconsistent with the pious con-
fidence of prayer, that it is not only con-
gruous, but even as it were congenial to 't,
and inseparable, so as to be most agreeable
to that great King whom it addresses. Hu-
mility and contrition of heart is often thought
by men to be the mark of a low and abject
mind, and, as such, is often despised by them;
but nothing is more honourable in the sight
of God. " He," says Augustine, " will
bow down his ear, if thou dost not lift up thy
neck."* There is certainly no more effica-
cious method of supplicating and obtaining
grace, than to do it, if I may so speak, sub
forma pauperis, confessing and pleading our
poverty. He finds the most easy access into
the .court of heaven, who meets the most fre-
quent repulses on earth. Nay, if I may so
express myself, the heavenly court sits and
resides in him. The two chief temples and
palaces of the great King are that r^nraymt,
thrice holy place, in the third heaven, and
the humble and contrite heart upon earth.
The best manner of praying, therefore, is that
which is made up of faith, fear, and humili-
ty. By the equal libration of these wings,
the soul mounts on high, while that of fear
does not sink too low, nor that of confidence
rise too high.-f By these we are daily and
hourly to soar to God ; and care must be
taken that these wings of the soul be not
dragged down by excess, nor scorched by
lust, nor clogged and glued together, as it
were, by covetousness, or any other terrene
and viscid affection. But let us now a little
more particularly see what this confession of
the Prophet was.
* Inrlinat aurem Deus, si tu non erigis cervicem.
t Oratio timida tcelum non attingit, temeraria rc-
silit, et vl sua fr.ingitur. RKRNSRD.
If thou, Lord, shouldest mark iniquity,
O Lord, who could stand ?] An uninstructed
and incautious reader might perhaps ima-
gine, that the Psalmist was here seeking for
refuge in a crowd, and desirous of sheltering
himself under the common lot of human na-
ture ; at least, that he would endeavour to
find some low excuse for himself, in the men-
tion of its universal degeneracy. But the
design of the sacred writer is far different
from this. He confesses, that whatever he,
or any other person, on a transient and in-
attentive glance, may imagine of his inno-
cence, yet when the eye of the mind is di-
rected inward in a serious and fixed manner,
then he sees the sum and bulk of his sins
to be so immensely great, that he is even
struck into astonishment by it ; so that he
finds himself beset as it were on every side
with armed troops, which cut off all possibi-
lity of escape, otherwise than by flying to
Divine mercy, and to the freedom of pardon-
ing grace. He perceives himself unable to
bear the examination of an awakened con-
science, exercising itself in impartial self-re-
flection ; and arguing from thence how much
less he would be able to endure the penetra-
ting eye and strict scrutiny of the Divine
justice, he cries out, as it were, in horror and
trembling, under an apprehension of it, IJ
thou, Lord, shouldest mark iniquities, &c.
He sees himself overwhelmed with crimes,
held at bay, as it were, by his sins on every
side, which roar around him like so many
savage creatures just ready to devour him.
And he that does not see this to be his own
case, is either almost blind, or lives abroad,
and never descends into his own breast.
Gross offences alone strike the eye of our
fellow creatures ; but when we seriously con-
sider that we have to do with an all-seeing
Judge, who looks at once through every
covering, and sees the most secret recesses
of our hearts ; who considers not only what
may be concealed from men, but even from
ourselves, so as most clearly to discover every
the least stain and speck of our inmost soul,
and whose infinite holiness must also abhor
it, — is it possible that any one should be so
infatuated, as, in such a view, still to retain
a false and foolish conceit of his own inno-
cence ? It cannot be doubted, that they who
daily and accurately survey themselves and
their own hearts, though they may indeed
escape many of those evils which the genera-
lity of mankind, who live as it were by chance,
'all into ; yet, in consequence of that very
care and study, see so much the more clearly
their own impurity, and contract a greater
abhorrence of themselves, and a more reve-
rent dread of the Divine judgments. And
t is certain that the holier any one is, the
viler will he be in his own eyes ; and I may
also add, the viler lie is in his own eyes, the
ncre dear, precious, and honourable will he
ON PSALM CXXX.
be in the sight of God. But where is thel concur which no man in his senses will pre-
heart, yea, I may say, where is the forehead
of the generality of mankind, who boast of
it as if it were some great matter to be free
from the infamy of the most atrocious crimes ?
Have they not continually the reward of this
their egregious virtue ? "I have not com-
mitted murder and robbery. You are not
gibbeted for the food of crows and ravens."*
But they who bring the whole of their con-
duct, their deeds and their words, the glances
of their eye, and all the inward workings of
their affections, and examine them by the
pure and strait rule of the Divine law, so as
to perceive how many and how great errors
attend every most cautious day ; and they
who feel how wavering and weak their faith
is, how luke-warm at least, if not how cold,
their piety and charity, how ardent their love
of this world still continues, how untamed
the flesh, how unguarded the senses, how
unbridled the affections, how attentive their
hearts to trifles, while in prayer so light and
so wandering ; they, I say, who perceive and
reflect on this, with what poignant grief,
with what overwhelming shame, must they
be seized, and how earnestly and how justly
ivill they cry out, // thou, Lord, shouldest
mark iniquity, who could stand 9
If thou shouldest mark.] If thou should-
est inquire and scrutinize, and then shoulil-
wt retain and impute ; for the Hebrew word
imports both. If thou shouldest inquire,
thou wouldest find something of iniquity
in the most righteous of mankind, and when
thou hast found it, if thou shouldest retain
it, and call him to an account for it, he
could by no means free himself of the charge,
or expiate the crime. Inquiring, thou would-
est easily find iniquity ; but he by the most
diligent inquiry, would be able to discover
no ransom, and therefore will be unable to
stand, will have no place on which to set his
foot, butwillfallby the irresistible judgments
o' thy law, and sentence of thy justice,
There have been great disputes one way
and another about the merit of good works ;
but I truly think, they who have laboriously
engaged in them, have been very idly, though
very eagerly, employed about nothing ; since
the more sober of the schoolmen themselves
acknowledge there can be no such thing as
meriting from the blessed God, in the hu-
man, or, to speak more accurately, in any crea-
ted nature whatsoever ; nay, so far from any
possibility of merit, there can be no room for re-
ward any otherwise than of the sovereign plea-
sure and gracious kindness of God. And the
more ancient writers, when they use the word
merit, mean nothing by it, but a certain cor-
relate to that reward, which God both pro-
mises and bestows, of mere grace and benig-
nity ; otherwise, in order to constitute what
ts properly called merit, many things must
* Furtum non fcci. Non pascis in cruce corvos
sume to attribute to human works, though
ever so excellent, particularly that the thing
done must not previously be matter of debt,
and must be entire, or our own act, unassist-
ed by foreign aid ; it must also be perfectly
good, and bear an adequate proportion to the
reward claimed in consequence of it : if all
these things do not concur, the act cannot
possibly arise to merit. Whereas, I think,
no one will venture to assert that any one of
these can take place in any human action
whatever. But why should I enlarge here,
when one single circumstance overthrows all
those titles ? The most righteous of mankind
would not be able to stand, if his works were
weighed in the balance of strict justice ; how
much less then could they deserve that im-
mense glory which is now in question ! Nor
is this only to be denied concerning the un-
believer and the sinner, but concerning the
righteous and pious believer, who is not only
free from all the guilt of his former impeni-
tence and rebellion, but endowed with the
gift of the Spirit. The interrogation here
expresses the most vehement negation, and
signifies that no mortal, in whatever degree
he is placed, if he be called to the strict ex-
amination of Divine justice, without daily
and repeated forgiveness, could be able to
keep his standing, and much less could he
arise to that glorious height. " That merit,"
says Bernard, "on which my hope relies, con-
sists in these three things — the love of adop-
tion, the truth of the promise, and the power
of its performance."* This is the threefold
cord which cannot be broken.
VBR. 4. But there is forgiveness with thee, that thou
mayest be feared.
THIS is the genuine method of divine
grace ; it first demands a mind void of all
confidence in itself, that so it may be filled
with a pure and entire trust in God ; for
though that blind self-confidence, which is
so natural to us, be flatulent and empty, yet
while it possesses the mind, it is, as it were,
blown up by it, and that swelling shakes off
every thing more solid, and prevents its ac-
cess even when it seems to surround us on
every side. Yea, it seems that the riches
and magnificence of divine grace cannot with
so much decency communicate itself, when
it is as it were straitened by the receiver ;
for since it is so great as to be able to fill
every thing, it requires a free and ample
space, in which to dilate itself. He who, in
the first original of the new-born world,
brought all things out of nothing, acts like
himself in the regeneration and restoration
of mankind to holiness. The Holy Spirit
finds nothing but Tohu va Bohu, nothing
but what is without form and void; and
• Meritum, cui innititur spes mea, tribus hisce con-
stat— charitate adoptionis, veritate promissionis. et
potestate rcdditioiiis.
CfiO
MEDITATIONS
VER. 4.
whoever of mankind perceives and acknow-
ledges this to be his case, may be assured
that the Spirit of God already begins to move
upon him, to impregnate the face of the
abyss ; and tnen it is said concerning them,
Let there be light, and there is light, even
that light by which they see themselves un-
formed and dark, and destitute of every thing
that is good. It is a great sign of a soul
beginning to emerge from its misery, to give
up every hope of emerging from it, except
that one which arises from free mercy alone,
and in this sense, it may truly be said, as it
is by the Poet,
Una salus miseris nuttam sperare talutem ;
" Tl e wretched find no safety but despair:"
i. e. in themselves, in their own righteous-
ness or innocence, their own industry in
fulfilling the law, or any expiat ion they can
make for the breach of it. And what the
Apostle says of his own danger, may proper-
ly enough be applied to a confession of the
soul, pressed under the burden of its own
guilt : We had received the sentence of
death in ourselves, that we might not trust
in ourselves, but in God that raises the
dead. For the exclamation before us bears
a remarkable resemblance to that expression,
If thou, Lord, shouldest mark iniquity, O
Lord, who could stand 9 But there is for-
giveness with thee, that thou mayest be
feared. He that from justice found not
any ground upon which he might stand,
finds in mercy a place from which he may
rise again ; and this is the remedy of all our
grief and distress, and in this sense we must
be sick that we may recover, and must die
that we may live. Grace exerts its power,
where nature and art, and all the excellency
and strength of human nature fail ; nor does
any soul celebrate the Divine benignity more
signally than those who are snatched as it
were out of the flames, when they are begin-
ning to seize them, and being rescued from
the very jaws of hell, return to life again,
and breathe in the land of the living.
That trite distinction of sin, into mortal
and venial, which is so common among the
schoolmen, is not only vain and destitute of
all support from the word of God, but is in-
deed very faulty, and, far from being itself
venial, well deserves to be exploded as
mortal, fur that malignant influence which
it has upon the morals of men. If the most
open danger of the Divine displeasure, and
of eternal death, cannot hinder the bold race
of men from rushing on headlong to every
crime,* and breaking all the barriers of duty
which God has prescribed them, will it not
add great licentiousness to all the crowd and
tumult of headstrong desires, when some
•ins are said to be by their own nature, and
in the whole kind of them, free from the
* Audax omnia perpeti
Gens humana, nut, per vetitum nefas. Him
condemning sentence of the Divine law ?
But what I here oppose is this : give me the
holiest man upon earth, the man who of all
others stands at the remotest distance, both in
the affections of his mind and conduct of
his life, from those sins which they acknow-
ledge as mortal, willhenot deeply feel his need
of daily forgiveness, from the multiplied pol-
lutions of his daily infirmities ? He truly
accounts no sin little, which is committed
against the great and ever-blessed God, nor
any pardon little, which he knows to proceed
from his infinite grace. Nor will he promise
himself the pardon of the least fault which
he indulges ; nor will he despair of obtaining
a pardon of the greatest, for which he is
truly penitent. And this is the law of grace.
The Poet said with a great deal of justice,
" That no sinner is absolved by himself,""
because he is as it were turned inform t
against himself; yet in another sense the
sinner is absolved by that very self-accusa-
tion ; and, sorrowing for his sins, is freed
from the guilt of them ; for it is not by any
means to be conceived, that any one can
return into favour with God, unless he
return to God ; nor that any one can re-
turn to God, unless he renounce every
sin, which if he does, they are all entirely
forgiven, and those which he eagerly desires
to cast behind his back, shall never rise
up to condemn him to his face, before the
tribunal of the Divine justice. This senti-
ment runs through all the evangelical dis-
courses of the Prophets, by which, as so
many heralds, they call a rebellious people to
return to the allegiance of God their supreme
King : Return, ye backsliding children,
and I will heal your backslidings. Yea,
the very Fountain of Grace, the Lord of the
prophets, who is himself the great Author
and Sum of the gospel doctrine, as soon an
ever he came forth to publish this grace, said,
Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at
hand. Nor can any mind that is not fallen
into utter madness and complete distraction,
dream of a pardon, how ample and glorious
soever, to be imparted to a sinner that will
not repent or return : nor indeed can it so
much as be wished. For, how unworthy
would it be of the Divine Majesty and
Wisdom, to throw away such precious graces
on those who so obstinately despise them !
But there is forgiveness with him, — apud
ilium ; which is added with the utmost pro-
priety. With him there is a treasure of
mercy laid up, to be imparted most freely
and richly to every humble sinner that ap-
plies to him for it. Nor is the dispensing
grace in this way at all inconsistent with
the riches and freedom of it, since the great-
est sins and most aggravated crimes are ab-
solutely forgiven, without any penalty or
fine whatsoever imposed upon the offender ;
* Se indice nemo nocens absolvltur.
vrn. 4.
ON PSALM XXXII.
yet on this most reasonable and happy con-
dition, that they who are thus received into
the Divine favour, should express their
grateful acknowledgments for it, by love,
obedience, and sanctity of life. Neither is
this forgiveness the less free and gracious,
because Jesus Christ as our Surety and Re-
deemer has paid the price of it, having been
appointed for and destined to this great and
arduous work by the Father. For, what
does that great Father of mercies herein, but,
in order to our complete discharge, by one
certain and ever-to-be-admired way, satisfy
himself of his own, by fastening his only-
begotten Son to the cross ? The repository
of this treasure is opened, the whole price is
poured out at once, that great price of re-
demption, more precious than all the treasures,
than all the mines of gold in the world, or
even the whole world itself. But they who
anxiously debate the point, whether God
could simply and absolutely pardon sin with-
out any price, do but trifle ; for, whatever
may be supposed concerning that, who is
there that will deny that this way of the sal-
vation of men which God has chosen, is so
full of stupendous mystery, and so illustrious,
\f I may so speak, for that trine, and to us
most benign aspect of wisdom, justice, and
mercy, that nothing can be thought of more
worthy the Divine Majesty, nothing sweeter,
nothing more munificent with respect to
unworthy man ? So that it will appear
Athanasius speaks very prudently when he
says, " We ought not in this matter so
much to consider the absolute power of God,
as what is most advantageous to man, and
what most worthy the Divine Being."*
It was fit that our wise Creator should
give us a law, and that law was both useful
and pleasant to those who would carefully
observe it ; but when once violated, there
would necessarily arise a fatal enmity be-
tween the law and transgressors, an enmity
which would continually become progressive,
and gather new strength in the progress ;
but as for our obstinacy, what is it more than
•rfe; xivrga X«XT<£S<>>, to kick against the
pricks 9 The law is inviolably safe in its
own sanctity, dignity, and immortality ;
but we, by striving against it, what do we
gain but iniquity, disgrace, and death ? So
that if there were no umpire to interpose
there would be no hope, but that the whole
human kind should perish. But that bless
ed and efficacious Intercessor came from on
high ; and certainly he was himself a Divini
Person who could compose such a controver
sy, and who, joining by an indissoluble union
his infinitely better with our miserable and mor
tal nature, did so, by a most wonderful method
render to the law all its accuracy of obedience
' Oux. curv; S-i l» Tttira ta xfayftetTi T« &*
0i£u Svtartr Jut&ftmii till TO roil »tU(»ati; AvrirlAl-
rrtfet, KOLI T«»f ft ifiuti &lST{fT!»-Ti;«.
and to us, though guilty, impunity. And
having thus made peace, that concord might
afterwards continue and prevail, he animates
all that partake of this blessed peace, by
his own new, pure, and divine Spirit, that
hey might not only be engaged sincerely to
mdeavour diligently to observe the sacred
irecepts of the law, but might love them,
and cordially embrace them ; and, on the
ither hand, he hath tempered the severity
if the law towards all those that are received
nto favour, that their diligent, pious, and
affectionate observance of the law, though
not entirely complete, should by our indul-
gent Father be most graciously accepted,
ven as if it were perfect ; and so the honour
if the Divine Legislator is secure among
men, and his peace descends upon them ;
and this is what our text observes, There it
"orgiveness with thee, that thou mayest be
'eared.
It is well known that the fear of God is
ommonly used in scripture to signify, not
inly the whole of his worship, but all pious
affections whatsoever ; and, consequently,
he whole of true religion. And some
ranslate the expression here, that thou
mayest be reverently worshipped : and it
s thus used with the greatest propriety. I
speak of that fear, which is so far from
denoting that servile, hostile dread and
error which some might think of, that, on
:he contrary, it entirely excludes it, being
jroperly a reverence tempered with love.
Yet I do not think that we are to exclude
all dread of punishment and vindictive jus-
tice, under the name of a servile and disin-
genuous fear ; nay, I apprehend such a fear
:o be very necessary, even to those who most
ardently love, so long as they live in the flesh,
In order to tame and rein in the petulancy of
it ; yea, love itself places fear as a kind of bit
and bridle to the flesh. Psalm cxix. 128,
My flesh tremble* for fear of thee, and I
am afraid of thy judgments. Heb. xii.
28, 29, Let us serve God with reverence
and godly fear ; for our God is a consum-
ing fire. This is the fear which U called
the beginning of wisdom, and marked
with other very high titles of honour in the
sacred scripture; without which, we can
neither conceive the beginning of divine wor-
ship and true piety, nor pursue the improve-
ment of it.
As this holy and pure fear is the compend
and summary of religion, so this pardon and
free remission of sins is the great foundation
and support of that fear and religion. As the
whole human race is defiled with sin, the
despair of pardon would entirely drive us
away from God, and, precluding all ways of
returning, would plunge the offender head-
long into eternal banishment and eternal
hatred.
With thee is forgiveness, that thou mayesl
BC;
MEDITATIONS
be feared ; that men may not dread thee,
and flee thee, as an inexorable judge and
enemy ; but may reverence, love, and serve
thee, as a mild and gracious Lord, as a most
merciful and loving Father. And this is
that joyful message of the gospel, to which
sinners run, as soon as they hear and under-
stand it, prostrating themselves with all hu-
mility at the feet of so mild a Lord, and so
gracious a king. " For no one," as Ambrose
says, " will think of repenting, but he who
hopes for indulgence."* This merciful God
calls back to his favour, those that are as it
were flying from it, saying, Return, ye apo-
states and rebels, and I will pardon and
heal your backslidings. And they, as if their
bowels sounded to the unison note of mercy,
with reciprocal penitence and love, answer.
Behold we come wiio thee, for thou art Je-
hovah our God. And this is that which the
great Messenger and Author of our salva-
tion preached and set forth ; Repent, says
he, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.
You are not now pursued by wrath and ven-
geance, threatening utterly to extirpate you
and cut you off, but the kingdom of heaven,
the dispensation of love, mercy, and grace,
opens its bosom to embrace you, and freely
offers you the full pardon of all your former
obstinacy and rebellion. Behold the com-
passionate father meeting that prodigal son
which has so basely run from him, while yet
afar ofF, on his return ; and instead of chid-
ing and upbraiding him, burying as it were
not only all his sins, but even his very con-
fession, as in a deluge of love, amidst the
tenderest embraces, kisses and tears. Make
me to hear, says David, the voice of joy and
gladness, that the bones which thou hast
broken may rejoice. By that lamentable
fall, he had as it were dashed himself against
the rock of divine justice, so that all his
tones were broken ; but what a voice of joy
and gladness is that which should restore
full soundness and strength to bones which
had as it were been crushed and shattered to
pieces ! Surely it is no other voice than that
so often used by our Saviour in the gospel,
Son, be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven
thee. That was the grace, softer than oil,
sweeter than roses, which flowed from hit
lips into the sinner's wounds, and being pour-
ed into the contrite heart, not only heals but
blesses it, yea, and marks it out for eternal
blessedness. But, alas ! the greater part of
sinners sleep in their misery, and though
their distempers are mortal, feel them not.
It is therefore no great wonder that this
grace, this precious, this invaluable remedy,
is despised by them. But O ! how sweet
is the voice of pardon to a soul groaning
under the burden of sin !
* Nemo meditabitur pcenitentiam. nisi qui spera-
verit indulgentiam.
— — Qitaleper trstum
Ditlcif aqiue satiente sinim restinguere rivo.
" Sweet as the living stream to summer thirst."
But, as one well expresses it, " He that has
never known discomfort, knows not what con-
solation means. Men of this world, entan-
gled in the cares of life, and in its crimes, in.
sensible of misery, attend not to mercy."*
But if any who imagine themselves partakers
of this forgiveness do not at the same time
feel their hearts struck with a pious fear of
the Divine Majesty, let them know that their
joys are self-invented dreams, since it is for
this very end that there is forgiveness with
God, even thai he may be feared.
In the remainder of this Psalm the author
asserts his confidence in God, and labours to
confirm and establish that of all true believers
NER. 5. 1 wait for the Lord, my soul doth wait, and
in his word do I h< pc.
6. My soul waileth for the Lord, more than they
that watch for the morning ; I say, more than
they that watch for the morning.
7. Let Israel hope in the Lord ; for with the Lord
there is mercy, and with him is plenteous redemp-
tion.
8. And he shall redeem Israel from an his iniquities.
/ Wait for the Lord.] With thee is mercy.
They who heartily believe this, are drawn by
that sweet and amiable force, and desire to
be partakers of it. And certainly there is no
true faith in the doctrine of salvation, unless it
be attended with this magnetic force, by
which it draws the soul to God. One would
think it would be impossible, where this ef-
fect is not produced, that there should be so
much as an historical faith ; and, surely, it
is contrary to, and inconsistent with, the ra-
tional nature, to see so desirable and excel-
lent a good laid down as it were before us,
and freely offered, without running most
freely to embrace it, with open arms and an
ardent impetuosity of soul.
The faith, therefore, of vulgar and merely
nominal Christians, is quite dead, and de-
serves not the name of faith at all. I mean
that which is not sufficient to excite them
earnestly to desire and expect that divine
grace which they say they believe. True and
lively fa'th is the eye of the inner man, which
beholds an infinitely amiable God, the lucid
and perpetual fountain of grace, and by the
view is immediately kindled into most fer-
vent love. That divine light which is sent
from heaven into the soul, is the vehicle of
heat too, and by its ardent rays, presently
sets the heart on fire ; the flame rises su-
blime, and bears all the affections of the
mind with it, to that consummate beauty
which it renders visible.
When a philosopher was asked, why thai
which is fair attracts our love ? he answer-
ed, " It is the question of a blind man,"
* Quisquis autem desolationem non novit, nee con •
solationem agnoscere potest. Homines seculi negotiis
et tiagitiis implicati, dum miseriam non sentiunt,
miscricordiam non attendunt. BERN
VER. 5, &C.
ON PSALM XXXII.
G69
TwpXau louTtpB, Well then might the Psal-
mist, when he has been contemplating the
Divine goodness, represent himself as quite
transported with its charms, q. d. " It is no-
thing earthly, nothing mortal, that is the
object of my wish ; my soul hangs on the
Lord alone ; it thirsts for thee, and till it
arrives at the enjoyment of thee, it will still
bewailing. Hasten, Lord, to support and com-
fort me, for I am sick with love ; nor is there
any thing in heaven or earth besides thee, O
Lord, which can satiate or delwht this soul
of mine, pierced through as it were with this
sacred passion. And though I am, and feel
myself to be, most unworthy of loving thee, or
of hoping ever to enjoy thee, yet my mean-
ness and vileness, even when compared with
thine immense majesty and sublimity, do not
deter me so much as thy boundless cle-
mency and goodness, added to thy truth,
while I have thy word of promise before
mine eyes for my support, sustains me, and
animates my courage ; therefore, while my
love and desire are most ardent, I will, never-
theless, expect and wait with inward pati-
ence and perseverance. And though a heart
which loves like mine, must find a delay
grievous, yet unshaken hope shall alleviate
that sickness of the soul. Just as they that
watch for the morning, however they may
be afflicted with the darkness and coldness
of the night, are constantly supported with
the assured hope that the dawn will come,
and the day arise in all its glory."
Nor does the Psalmist envy others their
share in those felicities which arise from love
and hope ; on the contrary, with a cheerful
cad liberal mind, he invites all to this im-
mense ocean of riches, not shut up, but free
to all ; Let Israel hope in the Lord. And,
lest the confluence of such vast numbers
should suggest any fears of straitness and
want, he confidently declares that there is
wealth enough, and more than enough, to
supply all their necessities ; for with the
Lord, says he, there is mercy, and with him
plenteous redemption ; grace rich and co-
pious enough to support all sinners, and to
forgive all sins, and all that apply to it shall
infallibly find that he redeems Israel from
all his iniquities. The eye of faith is by no
means evil, but bright and sparkling with
unbounded charity ; it wishes all good to all,
and, above all, wishes them a beatific union
with thp Supreme and Infinite Good. As
in that kingdom of glory there is no malig-
nity, no envy, because there can be no strait-
ness, but according to that eunphatical say-
ing of our blessed Saviour, There are many
mansions, there is boundless space, and the
seats of pious souls are not marked out in
any narrow boundaries, but in an ample
court ; so even in the previous kingdom and
banquet of grace, our heavenly Father's house
is magnificent, both on account of its am-
plitude, and the rich provision which it con-
tains.
Let me beseech you, therefore, strictly to
examine your own souls, inquire what it is
that they chiefly wish, hope, and desire ;
whether they give chace as it were to every
painted fly ; whether, forsaking the foun-
tain of living waters, they are digging for
themselves cisterns of clay, and these leaky
too, with great and unprofitable labour. O !
wretched deceitfulness of every earthly hope,
which mocks and deludes us so much the
more in proportion to the extravagance of its
promises. Blessed are they, and only they,
who fix their eyes and their souls above, and
say, with the Psalmist, Lord, I wait on
thee, my soul does wait, and in thy word do
I trust ; and as elsewhere, And now, Lord,
what wait I for ? my hope is in thee.
Happy they who have quitted all those low
desires and pursuits, which are unworthy of
a generous and immortal spirit, and have
fixed their love on one ; whose heart and
hopes are set upon that one, in whom all
things excellent meet and centre. A cheer,
ful joy always shines on their face ; nor do
their cheeks glow with the shame of repulse
and disappointment. While we are wander-
ing hither and thither, in the vicious and
perplexed pursuit of flattering objects, what
frequent lamentation, what fond complaint
of delusive fortune, and that tragical outcry,
iu, in, rou.vfjia.~i ufrubtnuv, of grievous and
painful wounds ; what crowds of fears and
cares divide the mind, and hurry it now one
way, and now another ! But when we fix
our hope and our heart on the only support,
on the only true and all-sufficient good, all
is safe, auu tiie soul treads firm, as it were,
while the whole globe trembles. Let exter-
nal things be borne this way or that, there is
peace within ; nor when al! methods have
been examined, can any other be found for
the establishment of the mind, than that it
should lay all its stress upon the one immove-
able and immutable Rock.
SERMON,
PREACHED TO
THE CLERGY
•r ' \ *T
i f J , L
SERMON, &«.
COR. v. 20.
Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by
us ; we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God.
" IT is appointed unto all men once to die,
and after that to come to judgment," saith
the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews.
Two sad necessities to sinful man. This
last, nature's light discovers not ; but the
other, though it be seldom deep in our
thoughts, is almost always before our eyes :
and though few seriously remember it, yet
none can be ignorant of it. Against this
known and universal evil, the chief of the
heathen moralists, the Stoics, have much en-
deavoured to arm themselves ; and others
have bent the strength of their wits to master
/he fear of death, and have made themselves
and some of their hearers conquerors in im-
agination : but when the king of terrors
really appeared, he dashed their stout reso-
lutions, and turned all their big words and
looks into appalment. And the truth is,
there are no reasonings in the world able to
argue a man into a willingness to part with
i a present being, without some hopes at least
of one more happy ; nor will any contented-
ly dislodge, though they dwell never so
meanly, except upon terms of changing for
the better. The Christian then (not nomi-
nal, but really so) is the only man that can
look death immediately in the face ; for he
knows assuredly that he shall remove to " a
house not made with hands, eternal in the
heavens."
This discourse beginning this chapter,
occasioned by the end of the former, continues
to the 12th verse, where the apostle subjoins
an apology for his high and confident man-
aer of speaking ; which apology serves like-
for a very pertinent re-entry to the main
iscourse of the former chapter, concerning
he worth and work of the ministry. But
because of the apostle's frequent, yet sea-
sonable digressions, proleptic and exegetic,
divers may model the analysis after divers
manners.
To take then the discourse as it lies here
together, abstract from precedent and conse-
quent, I think (with submission) it may be
divided into these two heads : first, The
apostle's resolution for death ; secondly,
His course and manner of life : each sup-
ported with their proper grounds, or reasons :
the former to ver. 9, the other to the end of
the chapter.
The resolution is so strong, that he ex-
presses it by the words of earnest desiring
and groaning ; and this resolution for death,
springs Irom his assurance of life after
death. " We know that, if our earthly
house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we
have a building of God, not made with
hands, eternal in the heavens." He speaks
in his own and his colleagues' names : and
the whole matter of both is set forth by an
elegant, continued metaphor. Both the de-
sire and the assurance causing it are illus-
trated by their chief cause, ver. 5, " Now
he that hath wrought us for the self-same
thing is God, who also hath given unto us
the earnest of the Spirit." Both in his gra-
cious purpose for this, hath he made us, and
in a pledge of performance he hath given us
earnest, even his Spirit. Then by their
subordinate cause, faith ; ver. 7> " For we
walk by faith, not by sight." His course
and purpose ; for he both signifieth what
he doth, and how he intends to continue ta
do.
His course and purpose of life are, in ge-
neral, to walk acceptably in this absence
2 U
G74
A SERMON
from the Lord: ver. 9, " Wherefore we ] maculate Lamb. " Made him to be sin
labour, that whether piesept or absent, we
may be accepted of him." And in particu-
lar, walking diligently and faithfully in the
ministry, vers. 11 — 18, "Knowing, there-
fore, the terror of the Lord, we persuade
men ; but we are made manifest unto God,
and I trust also are made manifest in your
consciences," &c. One reason of this course
and purpose is implied in that illative (Alt))
which knits this part with the former. And
indeed, a good frame of life hath a most
necessary connexion with a strong resolution
for death and assurance of life eternal ; and
they mutually cause one another. That a
pious life gives strength against death, and
hope of eternal life, none will deny : nor is
it less true, that that assurance animates and
stirs up to obedience ; so tar is it from
causing sloth, that it is the only spur to ac-
ceptable walking, " We are confident," saith
he, ver. 8 ; " wherefore we labour to be ac-
cepted," ver. 9.
This purpose is further backed with a
double reason, viz. of two pious affections :
the one of fear, ver. 11, " Knowing there-
fore the terror of the Lord," &c. ; the other
not by constraint, not beside his knowledge
and consent. The Heathens observed, that
their sacrifices were successless and unhappy
when the beasts came unwillingly to the
altar. We need not fear in this point ;
our blessed sacrifice, who was also priest
and altar, offered up himself cheerfully.
" Then said he, Lo, I come to do thy will,"
Heb. x. 7- " And I lay down my life,"
saith the good shepherd, John x. 11. " To
be sin ;" not only to take the similitude 01
sinful flesh, becoming man for man's sake,
and to be " numbered with transgressors,"
as the prophet speaks, Isaiah liii. 12, " and
to bear the sin of many," but the imputed
guilt and inflicted punishment of sin ; and
these sins of many made him imputatively
an exceedingly great sinner, and therefore
said to have been " made sin," by reason
of this imputation ; whereupon followed his
suffering as a sacrifice. And I conceive,
that the reason why the word that in the
first language signifies sin, is sometimes
taken for the sacrifice, is, because the con-
fessed sins were, as it were, transferred and
laid upon the heads of the legal sacrifices :
of love, ver. 14, " For the love of Christ and so saith the prophet, " The Lord hath
constraineth us," &c. That of fear, arising laid on him the iniquity of us all," Isaiah
from the consideration of the judgment-seat liii. 6. He was then made sin, primarily
of Christ ; that of love, from the thoughts by imputation of, and consequently by
of his death ; ver. 14, " For that love of : suffering for, our sins, as our expiatory sa-
God constraineth us, because we thus judge,
that if one died for all, then were all dead.
And he died for all, that they which live,
should not henceforth live unto themselves,
but unto him who died for them, and rose
again." These are the reasons that stir up
crifice. " He made him sin for us," in our
stead, and for our good ; to- wit, our redemp-
tion, as follows, " that we might be made,"
or become, ytiv ij.it m ; but be it made, yirsa.
pita, it is no otherwise than Christ was made
sin imputatively : and if this inference need
this eminent apostle to a study of acceptable j help, each word that follows will confirm
walking in all things, especially in his jit. Righteousness, not righteous; to shew
special calling, the ministry of reconciliation :Uhe perfection of it, not to urge its unity.
approving himself therein to his God, and I Righteousness, not righteousnesses ; as inti-
as much as may be to the consciences of the
people ; saying and doing all things with
intention of his glory and their good ; free
from vain. glory ; not speakingforhimself, no,
nor living to himself; but to Him that died
for him, and rose again. Not possessed with
carnal respects touching himself or others ;
mating that it is but one righteousness,
whereby we are all justified of God ; not
our own ; in him, not in ourselves. All
which makes it clear, as it were written with
the sun-beams, that by the most gracious
exchange, as he took our sins, he hath given
us his righteousness. It is true, this is
no, nor entertaining carnal considerations of always accompanied with holiness inherent,
Christ himself, as being ascended, and j but imperfect. By that imputed righteous-
therefore to be considered and conversed with ness, the spouse of Christ is clear as the sun,
after a new manner (spiritually) by all those! all luminous ; but in regard of infused righ-
tist are new creatures in him, and reconciled i teousness, she is only fair as the moon;
to God by him, through the ministry ot the j but the one half light, and that appearing
word of reconciliation ; which reconciliation unequally too, waxing and waning, and hav-
God himself hath thus affected, " He hath ing spots at its fulness here below. She is
made him to be sin for us, who knew no holy in this regard, but righteousness in the
sin ; that we might be made the righteous-' other righteousness of God ; his by appoint,
ness of God in him." Who knew no sin ing, his by gift and application, and his by
practically, knew none ; altogether free from acceptance of God in him ; that is, its being
sin, not only from commission and consent, in him who is called " the Lord our righte-
but from the very first and least motions of ousness ;" in him, in whom the Father ac-
sin. And, indeed, none was thus fit to be | quiesceth, and is well pleased : " Blessed are
made sin, but one who knew none, an im- ' they that trust in him."
TO THE CLERGY.
675
But to the former, ver. 20, " Now then
we are ambassadors for Christ, as though
God did beseech you by us ; we pray you in
Christ's stead, be ye reconciled unto God."
Here we have all the parties requisite in the
treaty of reconciliation ; God, though offend-
ed, seeking peace with men, his creatures,
and by sin become rebels (" as though God
beseeched you") ; Christ, the only procurer,
and likewise the chief ambassador of this
peace ; and then, lastly, have we the sub-
delegated messengars of this peace, " We,
as ambassadors for Christ." We, the apos-
tles and all the ministers of the gospel : for
as in their singularities and extraordinaries
they had no successors, for that is repugnant ;
so in these things wherein they have succes-
sors, all true ministers of the word are such.
The apostle himself calls this embassy " the
ministry of reconciliation ;" ver. 18, " And
all things are of God, who hath reconciled us
to himself by Jesus Christ, and given to us
the word of reconciliation." Ambassadors
for Christ, that is", in his stead. In this
verse we have the office of the ministry under
the name of ambassadors ; and their message,
the delivery whereof is the execution of
sent Die, so send I you," salth he, John xx. 21.
But the loss in this change were intolerable,
did he not allay it somewhat by sending his
Spirit upon those men whom he sends to
men: "If I depart, I will send him unto
you," saith he, John xvi. 7. He is gone in-
deed, as was necessary; but being ascended,
he caused gifts to descend upon men: " Some
he gave to be apostles, some prophets, and some
evangelists, and some pastors and teachers ;
all for the work of the ministry, and that for
the perfecting the saints, and the edifying of
his body," Eph. iv. 11, 12.
Thus, then, God treats with man in a hu-
man way, draws not his own to him by im-
mediate revelations, nor rejects he the rest
by express words from heaven : but while he
sends his ambassadors indifferently to both,
works differently in them. And the admira-
ble variety of effects of the same message,
after the same manner, and at the same time
delivered, do not a little set forth and com-
mend that same ^oAvTrooctAos ao^ia rov
®fov, "manifold wisdom of God:' that his
word should melt the hearts of some, and more
violently break the hearts of others; harden
me ucuvciy wucicui 15 uie execution ui » —
their office, entreaty of men to be reconciled and blind some' m°Uify and enlighten others;
to God. Both the office and message backed! convince those whom yet it converts not, and
with due authority or warrant : the office's
warrant is, we are ambassadors for Christ,
or in his stead, that is, subordinate to him
by his own ordination ; the warrant of the
message is God's own will that sent them,
for it is his mind to beseech you by us. But
to resume the first division, whereof each of
its two parts will afford a suitable proposi-
tion ; and upon these two propositions I
shall insist in what remains to be said.
The first proposition is this, from the
office ; ministers of the gospel are true am-
bassadors under Christ from God to man.
I As soon as man had divested himself of
i God's image, his shameful nakedness made
' him run into the thickets ; nor could he ever
( since then look his Maker directly in the face,
| nor endure to hear his immediate voice: there-
Ifore when God himself would come and dwell
among men, he veiled his Deity with human
flesh ; there he stood behind the wall, and
shewed himself through the trellises. " Let
us not hear again the voice, nor let us see
this great fire any more, that we die not,"
said the people at Horeb ; and the Lord,
by its majesty, (though in the mouths of
simple men,) it should bridle and restrain
many of all ranks whom it renews not;
moulding and framing them to an external
conformity and square carriage, whereby tiio
world, and the church of God in it especially,
is much advantaged.
And the lustre of all thes'; effects is ex-
ceedingly set off by the quality of the mes-
sengers, being but to the world's eye con-
temptible men. But had it not been more
congruous to the grandeur of this great King,
to have sent angels, his ministering spirits,
to be the ministers of the word ? Had he not
better have used those precious vessels for
his chief treasure, than to have concredited
it to vessels of earth, not to say to discredit
it by so doing ? No, his thoughts are not as
ours ; yea, they are farthest above ours when
they seem to be farthest below them. And
if we look again, we shall find it more glori-
ous to have conquered so many kingdoms,
and brought them to our King, the Lord
Jesus, by the preaching of a few fishermen,
and such like, than if he had done it by
that knew their mould, said, " they have! those active spirits. The meanness of the
said well : I will raise them up a prophet," ( means, raises exceedingly the glory of the
said God, " from among their brethren, like Sovereign's cause. Thus we see how the
unto thee;" and he did so. As he came sending of men in this embassy was requi-
" man's good, so for the same end went he site for the frailty of man, and how well it
away again : " It is expedient for you," saith suits with the glory of God.
"esus, " that I go away," John xvi. 7-1
nd since that time he hath continued to APPLICATION.
:nd unto men, men yet liker themselves
than he was ; men subject to like infirmities, HENCE may be deduced some necessary
fin not excepted. ". Even as mj Father things for all in general, something in par^
G76
A SERMON
ticular for these ambassadors, and something
for those to whom they are sent.
1. First, it may persuade all to entertain
more respectful thoughts of this function
than most men do. Some speak out their
disrespect ; others; though not expressing it
in words, have it lurking in their breasts,
and appearing in their practices. To instance
in one error or two that many labour under,
springing evidently from a low esteem of this
calling : Are there not divers pretenders to
it, who being (and possibly finding them-
selves) insufficient for all other employments,
have recourse to this, making no doubt of
their sufficiency for it ? Yea, such there are
too many ; their worldly friends being guilty
either of begetting in them, or of fomenting
this presumption. On the other side, are
there not others, who having some advantage
of outward rank, or inward endowments,
would think themselves, and be thought by
those that have interest in them, to be ex-
ceedingly disparaged if this calling were men-
tioned to them ; and would count it a great
abasing, yea, a losing of themselves, to em-
brace it ?
Against these two gross mistakes, may
verv appositely be opposed this ; " We are
ambassadors for Christ ;" from which ex-
pression it is most evident, that the ministry
both requires the best and ablest, and de-
serves them ; that the refuse and abjects ol
men cannot be worthy of it, nor it unworthy
of the choicest. It requires able men, because
they are to be ambassadors ; and this will
follow of itself. Again, consider whose am-
bassadors, and in what business, — the am-
bassadors of the King of kings, in the weighty
matter of treating peace betwixt him and
mankind. Shall it be said of his ambas-
sadors, as Cato said to those who were sent
by the Romans to Bithynia, counting three
wants that were amongst them, viz. that they
had neither feet, nor head, nor heart ?
Itistrue, Godmay (and sometimes, especi-
ally in extraordinary times) make use of un-
lettered and low-qualified men ; but then he
inlays their defects by singular supply ; there-
fore that is no rule for us in the ordinary vo-
cation. It is a piece of God's prerogative to
use unlikely me:ms without disadvantage ;
any thing is a fit instrument in his hands ,
but we are to choose the fittest and best means,
both in our own affairs, and in his service ,
and if in any, this eminent service of em-
bassy requires a special choice. If bodily
integrity was requisite in the servers at the
altar under the law, shall we think that the
mentally blind and lame are good enough
for the ministration under the gospel, which
exceeds in worth and glory ? Who is suf-
ficient for these things ? saith the great
doctor of the Gentiles. Our practice seems
to answer, Any body. And it is observable,
that carelessness in this kind is usually the
companion of false worship, and too much
care of decking, trimming, and making gay
the externals of it. It is said of Jeroboam,
that he made high places, but priests of the
lowest of the people. As he said of" golden
cups and wooden priests," we may say of
that church which values them so much, —
they are well looked to, neatly adorned, but
their priests highly ignorant. This function
requires able men, being a weighty charge ;
and is worthy of them, being highly honour-
able ; and, doubtless, there is egregious pro-
faneness in the contrary thoughts. The
Heathen can style those stones more happy
than common ones, that are chosen for the
building of temples ; and among those, the
altar-stones are iiappiest. And shall not we
account truly happy, those living stones that
are hewn oat for God's building, and chiefly
(so to speak) the altar-stones, the messengers
of peace ? What can be more honourable
than to serve the highest Lord in the chief-
est functions of his house ? How ought we
to account of an ambassador's place, when
king David esteemed so highly of a door-
keeper's office in this King's court ?
2. We are ambassadors. This may cor-
rect another error in the world, though ac-
counted by those that entertain it, a choice
piece of policy for God. It is this : the mi-
nistry being so mean a thing in the world's
eye, and so obnoxious to contempt, it is ex-
pedient to be raised and brought into credit
by annexed excessive dignities, high titles
of honour, and suitable revenues. It is true,
that penury and want of competencies in tem-
porals, in those that bring an eternal treasure,
argues base ingratitude, and is most unworthy
of well-constituted churches; but where the
remedy exceeds too far, it becomes worse than
the disease, being compounded of carnal pru-
dence and ambition, both of which are enmity
to God. And this I take to have been one
of Germany's provoking sins, and Rome's
predominant sin. For these incongruous
honours, to speak it in a word, raising some
from contempt, teach them to contemn and
insult over their brethren ; to say nothing of
their affronting of higher quality, yea, of
princes and kings themselves, while they
pretend to be the only supporters of their
crowns. And if this their insolency in ad-
vancement devolve them back again into con-
tempt, and their honour become their shame,
they may thank themselves for it. Their
Master taught them another method of at-
taining due esteem : he hath given honour
enough to those whom he hath made his am-
bassadors ; and if men contemn this, he
takes the indignity as done to himself, and
he is able enough to vindicate his own honour.
Let men esteem of us as the ministers of
Christ ; here is all the esteem that St. Paul
requires, and they are unworthy of this that
are not content with it. Their best way is,
TO THE CLERGY.
677
whom God employs, to study his glory, and he
will not fail to honour those who honour him.
And this leads me fitly in from the con-
viction of these common errors, to a word of
particular exhortation to these ambassadors,
from the nature of their calling so expressed.
And it binds upon them chiefly these four
duties: 1. piety; 2. prudence; 3. fidelity;
4. magnanimity. First, piety in two steps
or degrees : first, to see that they be friends
with God; secondly, to labour to be inward
with him. First, to see that they be friends
with God ; for it no way suits that they be
ambassadors for reconciliation, who are not
themselves reconciled : it is certain such will
move both coldly and successlessly in the work.
What He can do extraordinarily, who doth
always what he wills in heaven and earth, we
question not. He can convey grace by them
to whom he gives none ; he can cause them
to carry this treasure, and have no share in
it ; carry the letter, and not know what is in
it ; and make them, so to speak, equivocal
causes of conversion.
But usually he converts those whom he
makes the happy strengthened of their bre-
thren. We think, that they who savingly
know not Christ, should not be fit to make
other men acquainted with him. He that
can tell men what God hath done for his soul,
is the likeliest to bring their souls to God :
hardly can he speak to the heart, that speaks
not from it. Si vis me flere, &c. Before
the cock crows to others, he claps his wings,
and rouses up himself. How can a frozen-
hearted preacher warm his hearers* learts,
and enkindle them with the love of God ?
But he whom the love of Christ constrains,
his lively recommendations of Christ, and
speeches of love, shall sweetly constrain others
to love him. Above all loves, it is most true
of this, that none can speak sensibly of it but
those that have felt it. Our most exquisite
pulpit orators, yea, speak they with the
tongues of men and of angels, without the
experience of his love, are not fit ambassadors
for Christ ; for his embassy is a love-treaty.
Such men are but sounding brass, and tink-
ling cymbals ; the sublimest and best con-
trived of their discourses, glow-worm like, or
as those foolish fires, may have some light
with them ; heat they have none. When a
man speaks of reconciliation and happiness,
as if he had some interest therein himself;
when his words are animated with affection ;
as he is likely to beget some affection where
there is none, so a pious hearer that is already
gained to Christ, finds the embassy drawing
him effectually nearer heaven ; blowing that
divine fire that is within him, and causing it
to mount upwards. " As in water, face an-
swereth to face ; so doth the heart of man to
man," saith the wise man, Prov. xxvii. 19.
There is a certain peculiar sympathy and
sweet correspondence betwixt souls that lodge
the same spirit ; those that are united to the
same head, Christ, by reconciliation, find
their hearts agreed, and they relish the dis-
courses one of another. " Thus important is
it every way, both for begetting and strength-
ening of grace, that the ambassador thereof be
a reconciled person. As he must see that he
be friends with God, so he must also labour
to be inward with God ; for though the em-
bassy be the same in great part in the mouths
of all God's ambassadors, yet there is a world
of mysterious particulars contained in it, and
they meet with many intricate pieces in their
particular treaties with men's consciences ;
and in these know they the will of the King
their Master, more or less clearly, according
as they are more or less intimate with him
How knew divine Moses so much of the
Lord's will, but by much converse with him ?
These ambassadors, to the end that they may
do so, must labour for integrity. His secret
is with the righteous. For humility — he is
familiar indeed with the lowly ; he takes up
house with them : " With such a one wiU
I dwell, saith the Lord." God's choice ac-
quaintance are humble men. For the spirit
of meekness ; he we named was eminent in
this, and so in familiarity with his God.
Christ singularly loves the meek and lowly,
they are so like himself. One thing they
must mainly take heed of, if they aspire to a
holy familiarity with God — earthly-minded-
ness. If no servant of the god of mammon
can serve this God in point ot' common er-
vice, how much less can he be fit for Such
an eminent employment as an embassy, and
enjoy intimacy requisite for that employment?
These messengers should come near the life
of angels, always beholding the face of the
Father of Lights ; but if their affections be
engaged to the world, their faces will still be
that way. Fly high they may sometimes, in
some speculations of their own ; but, like the
eagle, for all their soaring, their eye will still
be upon some prey, some carrion here be-
low. Upright, meek, humble, and heavenly
minds, then, must the ambassadors of this
great King have, and so obtain his intimacy :
mounting upon those wings of prayer and
meditation, and having the eye of faith up-
wards. Thus shall they learn more of his
choicest mysteries in one hour, than by many
days poring upon casuists, and schoolmen,
and such like. This ought to be done, I
confess ; but, above all, the other must not be
omitted. Their chief study should be that of
their commission, the holy Scriptures. The
way to speak skilfully from God, is often to
hear him speak. " The Lord hath given me
the tongue of the learned," saith the evangelic
prophet, (chiefly intending Christ,) "to speak
a word in due season to the weary." (Aye,
that is the learnedest tongue when all a
done.) But how ? — " He wakeneth morn-
ing by morning, he wakeneth mine ear to
C78
A SERMON
men:
avaricious,
Lear as the learned'," Isaiah 1. 4. Thus we see
how these ambassadors have need to be friends,
and intimate friends with their Lord. * or it
they be much with God in the mount, their re-
turns to men will be with brightness in their
faces, and the law both in their hands and in
their lives, and their doctrine shall be heavenly.
2. The second requisite of these ambassa-
dors, is prudence, or dexterity to manage
their Master's business. Wise princes and
states, in choosing their ambassadors, above
other kinds of learning, have respect to prac-
tical abilities; and they that can best read
the several geniuses and dispositions of seve-
ral nations and particular men, and accord-
ingly know how to treat with every one ac-
cording to their temper, to speak to them in
their own language, are judged the fittest
men for that employment.
Great is the diversity of humours among
some are timorous, some rash, some
«,0.iJous, some ambitious, some slow and
leaden, others precipitant and mercurial, and
many other varieties. Now, to know how to
deal with each of these in their own kind,
for the advancement of his master's business,
is a special discretion in an ambassador. And
these ambassadors we speak of, have as much
need of it as any: they have men of all, both
outward and inward differences, to deal with;
and the same men so different from them-
selves at divers times, that they are hardly
the same; some ignorant, others learned;
gome weak, others strong ; some secure with
false presumptions, others tormented with
false fears : and much prudent consideration
of these differences, and accommodating
themselves thereunto in the matter and man-
ner of their discourses, is very expedient in
their treaties. " Of some have compassion,
plucking them out of the fire, making a dif-
ference." What else is St. Paul's " becom-
ing all things to all men, that he might win
some?" And this policy is far different
from temporizing, and compliance with evil,
which in no case can be tolerated in these am-
bassadors, for that is disadvantageous to their
business : it may be the way of their own
promotion, but it is not the way to advance
their Master's kingdom, which end should be
the square of all their contrivances ; and with
it nothing will suit but what is upright. A
kind of guile they may use, but it must carry
their King's impress ; it must be a holy guile ;
and such the ministers of the gospel not only
may, but ought to study. Fishers of men
they are, and why may they not use certain
baits, and a diversity of them ? But as their
catching is not destructive, but saving, so
must all their baits be. They must quarter
dove-like simplicity and serpentine wisdom
together; as He commanded them that sent
them on this embassy.
3. Their third duty is fidelity ; and that
both in the matter of their embassy, and in
he manner of delivering it. In the matter,
hey must look to their commission, and de-
clare the whole counsel of God, not adding
nor abating any thing. We know how hein-
ously kings take the presumption of their
imbassadors in this kind ; though reason be
pretended, and perhaps justly, yet even then
;hey account obedience better than sacrifice ;
fea, some of them have been so precise and
;ender of their prerogative, that they preferred
a damageable affront to their commands,
Before a profitable breach of them. And
above all kings, this King who is above
them all, hath good reason to be punctual in
this : for princes* instruction may be imper-
fect, and, as things may fall out, prejudicial
to their purpose ; but his are most complete,
and always so suitable to his end, that they
cannot be bettered. The matter, then, of the
embassy is unalterable, in that these ambas-
sadors must be faithful. Faithful also in
the manner of delivering it, with singleness
and diligence : with singleness, free from
by-respects, not seeking their own honour or
advantage, but their Master's ; abasing
themselves where need is, that he may be
magnified ; never hazarding the least part
of his rights for the greatest benefit that
could accrue to themselves. The treachery
if an ambassador is, of all, most intolerable
to deceive under trust. If any that bear
he name of God's legates, think to deceive
lim, they deceive themselves ; he cannot be
mocked. They must all appear before his
udgment-seat, and be unveiled before men
and angels. Knowing, therefore, the terrors
of the Lord, let them go about his work with
candour and singleness of heart, and with
diligence. " He that is diligent in his work
shall stand before princes," saith the wise
prince, Prov. xxii. 29.
The great Prince of Peace shall admit
those to stand eminently before him, that are
diligent in his embassy of peace. Such are
they who make it their meat and drink, as
Christ himself did — that accept all occasions
to treat with men for God. That oracle-like
preaching of one sermon or two in a year,
is far from this sedulity and instancy in
treating, which are requisite in God's ambas-
sadors. The prince of darkness hath more
industrious agents than such ; they compass
sea and land to make a proselyte ; they hold
to it, and are content to lose many a labour,
that some one may prosper. And this may
meet with the discontent that some ministers
take at their great pains and little success.
We see Satan's ministers can comport with
this. Since it is no just exception against
God's work, still be in thy business, and
refer the issue to thy Master. "• Wait on
God, and do good," saith the royal Psal-
mist, xxxvii. 3. " Sow thy seed in the morn-
ing, and in the evening withhold not thy
TO THE CLERGY.
G70
hand ; for thou knowest not which will
prosper," saith fhe wise son, Eccles. xi. 6.
As the moralists sp -ak of benefits, a man
must lose many words among the people,
th-it some one may not be lost : " I am all
things to all," saith our Apostle, " that I
may gain some,
1 Cor. ix. 20. Ami
though, in continuing diligent, thy diligence
should continue fruitless to others, to thee
it shall not be so. Thy God is a discreet
Lord : as he hath not put events into thy
hand, he will not exact them at thy hands ;
thou art to be accountable for planting and
Watering, but not for the increase. Be not
.wanting in thy task, and thou shall not want
thy recompence. Shouldest thou be forced
to say with the prophet, " I have laboured
in vain, and spent my strength for nought,"
(Isaiah xlix. 4,) in regard of success, yet
if thou hast laboured — so laboured as to
spend thy strength in that service, thou
mayest add with him, " Yet surely my judge-
ment is with the Lord, and my work with
my God."
4. The last duty recommendable to these
.ambassadors, is magnanimity, which is no
less needful than the preceding. Many a
difficulty and discouragement is to be en-
countered in this service, and, which is worse,
some temptations of prosperity and advance-
ment. If you persist to plead freely for
the world's enmity. What mischief is there
that Christ hath not foretold his disciples to
expect at their hands ? For Christ circum-
vents no man into his service ; he tells them
what they shall meet with : " They shall
prosecute you through their courts, ecclesias-
tical and civil ; deliver you up to councils,
and scourge you in synagogues, and accuse
you before governors and kings ; yea, they
shall think they do God good service when
they kill you," his own ambassadors. Many
mountains are to be climbed in going this
embassy, and the rage of many a tempest
to bs endured. His animis opus est, et pec-
tore firmo. Courage, then, ambassadors of
the Most High ; see if you can ri*e above
the world, and tread upon her frowning* with
one foot, and her deceitful smilings with
the other ; slight her proffers, and contemn
likewise her contempts. There is honour
enough in the employ .nent, to cause you to
answer all oppositions with disdain. Let it
be as impossible to turn you aside from your
integrity, as the sun from its course ; for
that message which you carry shall be
glorious in the end — it shall conquer all op-
posite powers. When you seem exposed in
your voyage to the fury of the winds and
waves, remember what you carry ; Caesarem
vehis, et fortunam ej>is, as he said ; it can-
not suffer shipwreck. Let no sufferings dis-
may you ; for a generous ambassador will
suffer the worst things for doing the best
service he can to his master, than to enjoy
the world's best rewards for the least point
of disloyalty. And if ever Master was
worthy the suffering for, yours is. Happy
are you when they persecute you for his sake,
as himself hath told. There are honourable
examples to look back to — " So did they to
the prophets ;" and a precious recompeuce
to look forward to — " Great is your reward
in heaven," Matthew v. 12. Our blessed
Redeemer refused no hardships for the work-
ing this peace, which is your embassy ; he
knew what entertainment did abide him in
the world, what contempts would be put
upon him by mankind, which he came to
redeem ; he knew of the full cup of his
Father's wrath, that he was to drink for them ;
yet resolution arising from love, climbed over
all these mountains, and, happily conquering
all these difficulties, attained the desired end.
Worthy ambassadors, follow this generous
Leader, in promulgating the peace he hath
purchased ; tread in his steps who " endured
the cross and despised the shame ;" and
your journey's end shall be suitable to his
who " is set dowu at the right hand of the
Father." Well did St. Paul study this
copy, when he said, " I know that bonds
abide me every where ; but I care for none
of these things, so that I may finish my
course with joy," Acts xx. 22, 25. The
looking over that great end, is the great
means of surmounting the hardest things
that intervene. The eyeing of that much,
will make an undaunted ambassador : and
that this lesson of courage is very pertinent
for them, will appear by Christ's own urging
it upon the first legates he sent out, when he
dwelt here below : " Fear not," saith he,
" them that can kill the body," &c. Matt. x.
28 ; where methinks he propounds, as the
chief incentive of courage to these ambassa-
dors, the joint consideration of those to whom
they are sent, and of him that sends them :
for, seriously considered, it must needs be
found most incongruous, that ambassadors
of God should be afraid to speak to men.
Fear not them ; the utmost they can do
reacheth no farther than the tabernacl.s of
clay ; nor can they touch that without per-,
mission ; not a hair of their head falls with-
out the notice of their Master. But suppose
the highest, let them kill the body ; thither
goes their rage, and no further. " But fear
him that can kill both body and soul ;" fear
not, but fear. As this fear hath better cause,
so it is the only expelling cause of the other
fear. Nothing begets such generous and
undaunted spirits as the fear of God ; no
other fear, none of those base ones that tor-
ment worldly men, dare claim room where
that fear lodgeth. The only cause of these
legates' fears, is the inconsideration of their
always account it far more honourable to I Master ; would they remember him, it would.
680
A SERMON, &c.
ennoble their spirits to encounter the hardest
evils of life, and death itself, courageously,
in his service. Their reward is preserved
for them, and they for it ; yea, it alone puts
them into full possession ; for their Master,
beyond all kings, hath this privilege ; he
can not only restore life lost in his service,
but for a life subject to death, yea, a dying
life, immortality ; and for their sufferings,
light and momentary, an eternal weight of
glory. Let them be impoverished in his
service, it is the best bargain in the world
to lose all for him. Let them be scourged
and stigmatized for the ignominy of these
sufferings, the spirit of glory shall rest upon
them. If that Persian prince could so prize
his Zopyrus, who was mangled in his ser-
vice, how much more will this Lord esteem
those that suffer so for him ! He is the ten-
derest King over his servants in the world ;
they that touch them, touch the apple of his
eye. Let his messengers, then, despise the
worst the world can do against them ; yea,
let them say of death as he said of it to his
adversaries, Anytus and Melitus, " Kill me
they may, but they cannot hurt me."
The lessons to those to whom these am-
bassadors are sent, are, first, of not indign!.
tying them. Remember David and the king
of Ammon. No king resents this so much
as God : " He that despiseth you, despiseth
me."
2. Secondly, slight not their message ;
know whence it comes. This not discern,
ing of holy things is the pest of Christians :
the Apostle specified it in the Lord's body ;
it is so in the Lord's word ; he condescends,
in using earthly creatures, to explain the
choicest of heavenly mysteries ; and earthen
vessels, to convey these ireasures. And if
that which he intended for their advantage,
the wretched sons of men make it a stum-
bling block ; and if they contemn the grace,
for the meanness of the persons that are made
conveyors and instruments of it, what may
they expect ?
3. Thirdly, respect even the ambassadors
for His sake whom they represent, " count-
ing them worthy of double honour ;" for
this is the will of your Lord and their Lord,
your King and their King. And to thit
King immortal, be all honour, and glory,
and praise, by all the churches, world with-
out end ! Amen.
LETTERS, &c.
SIR,
No. I.
I SEE there is no place, city nor country,
valley nor mountain, free from that sentence
so early passed upon the earth for man's
cause, u thorns and briars shall thou bring
forth ;" but he that is well shod walks on
the safelier till he comes where there are
none : but seeing that is not here, we are to
use the greater coolness and deliberation in
our removes. If your present company be
some way irksome, a greater solitude may
Drove more so : only if God both sensibly
fits you for it, and points clearly out the way
to it, follow him ; otherwise my advice
should be not to hasten too much, and par-
ticularly at no hand so to hasten as to run
in debt for it ; for I speak it on experience,
he that sets up any where in debt, it will
keep him possibly wrestling at and under
many years ; but if you let your incomes do
their own business, plan piano, as they come
to your hand, you will find it much easier
to do, and sweeter when it is done : mean-
while I know you can digest all a little long-
er, as hitherto you have done. — To your
other point touching baptism, freely my
thought is, it is a weak notion taken up on
trust almost generally, to consider so much,
or at all, the qualifications of the parents.
Either it is a benefit to infants, or it is not.
If none, why then administered at all ? But
if it be, then why should the poor innocents
be prejudged of it for the parent's cause, if
he profess but so much of a Christian as to
offer his child to that ordinance ? For that
it is the parent's faith gives the child a right
to it, is neither clear from Scripture, nor any
sound reason ; yet in that I heartily approve
your thoughts that you would make it, as
it most fitly may be, an active inducement
to the parents to know Him and His doc-
trine, and live conformed to it, unto whose
name they desire their children to be baptiz-
ed. But in this, and the other business,
and in all things, I am confident that good
Hand, to which I know you have given up
yourself, will graciously guide you
they miscarry that desire to
la will but his, Oh let it
still entirely be so with you and your resign,
ed Friend,
R. L.
'Tis well our great journey is going on, and
will quickly set us where we would be.
The business you write of is to you one
signal step of it, marked out by that So-
vereign Hand which, I doubt not, will
lead you in it, and all along through
what remains, to whom I know you are
constantly
No. II.
SIR,
SOME days ago I received some lines from
you, and they were very welcome ; for I know
no better news can come from any corner of
the earth, than of a soul attempting to over-
come the world and its OWL, self, and in any
degree prevailing and resolving still onwards ;
all the projects and conquests of the world
are not to be named to it. Oh ! what a wea-
riness is it to live amongst men, and find so
few men ; and amongst Christians, and so
few Christians ; so much talk and so little
action ; religion turned almost to a tune and
air of words : and, amidst all our pretty dis-
courses, pusillanimous and base, and so easily
dragged into the mire, self and flesh, and
pride and passion domineering, while we
speak of being in Christ, and clothed with
him, and believe it because we speak it so
often and so confidently ! Well, I know you
are not willing to be thus gulled, and having
some glances of the beauty of Holiness, aim
no lower than perfection, which in end we
hope to attain ; and in the meanwhile, the
smallest advances towards it are worth more
than crowns and sceptres. I believe that you
often think on those words of the blessed
champion Paul, 1 Cor. ix. 24, &c. There
is a noble guest within us. Oh ! let all our
business be to entertain him honourably, and
to live in celestial love within, that will make
all things without be very contemptible in
LETTERS.
our eyes I should rove on did not I stop
myself, it falling out well too for that, to be
hard upon the post hours, ere I thought of
writing. Therefore Good-night, is all I add ;
fur whatsoever hour it conies to your hand,
I believe you are as sensible as I that it is
still night ; but the comfort is, it draws nigh
towards that bright morning that shall make
amends.
Your weary Fellow-pilgrim,
R. L.
It may be Mr. Ogle did not think me in
earnest when I desired him to spy out a
hermitage for me ; but if one remote enough
were offered, I know not how it might
tempt me. Meanwhile it is well ; but if
you say any thing of this, then it will cost
you withal the remembering my service
to him and the rest — If you write aga:n,
I pray you load not the back of your let-
ters with any more than this, To Mr.
Hubert Lesghton, at Edinburgh; for by
that it will not fail to find me out, and
that answers the end, and you see I give
you example.
you two little pieces of history, wherein it
may be you will find small relish, but the
hazard is small ; and, however, I pray you
do not send them back to me at all, for I
have enough of that kind. The one is of a
good pen, and an acquaintance and friend of
yours, Paulus Noloiieas, and his Life of
Martin of Tours, I think you will relish,
and I believe is not in your Vila Patrum.
The other, Valerius Maximus, I conceived,
would cloy you the le s, because it is of so
much variety of selected examples, and the
stages are so short, you may begin and leave
off where you will, without wearying. But
when all is done, there is one only blessed
story wherein our souls must dwell and take
up their rest ; for amongst all the rest we
shall not read, Venite ad me, omnes lassi et
iaboran'es, et ego vobis requiem prestabo ;
and never any yet that tried him, but found
him as good as his word : to whose sweet
embraces I recommend you, and desire to
meet you there.
Yours,
R. L.
OCT. 24, 1659.
No. III.
SIR,
No. IV.
SIR,
THOUGH I desired you to forbear for a whil
the pains of sending me the book you spoke
of, I know it was your kindness pressed you
to send it, and I thank you. I cannot say
I have read it through, but divers passages1
of it I have ; and though I approve the de- 1
sign of it and all such writings so far as I
understand, and what I understand not, ad-
venture not to judge of, but rather implicite
think the best of it, yet I must confess, their
lowest rules that are laid as the foundation
of their structure, I find of most use ; and,
could I duly follow them, either I should
insensibly be raised to those greater sublimi-
ties they speak of, if the great Lover of souls
saw any such thing good for me, or I should
humbly and contentedly live without them,
which possibly would do as well till the day
come of fullest and purest intuitive life,
which I live in the hopes of as not far off
Meanwhile I think I have at a venture given
up with the contemptible desires and designs
of this present world, and must have either
something beyond them all, or nothing at
all; and though this /3-^£^'. T«; t/x*, this
base clod of earth I carry still depresses me,
I am glad that even because it does so, I
loathe and despise it ; and would say, major
sum, et ad majora ffenitns, $uam ut man-
eipinm sim islis corpusculis I have sent
THE answer I intended your letter was a
visit, and that not en passant. Though I
spoke and once had thoughts of Newcastle
for some days, my last purpose was no fur-
ther than Ingram, unless it had been with
you to Wittingham, to. see your honest
neighbour Mr. Hume ; which if you think
of it when you meet, it may be you will tell
him. Nor was this a mere thought, for I
was on my way towards you as far as Gin-
glekirk, whence I returned back to my lodge,
finding myself not well, by reason, I think,
of not scarce having been on horseback twice
these many months. I am yet in a little
distemper ; of which, though I apprehend
no great height nor long continuance, yet I
am doubtful whether I shall again, this va-
cation, attempt any further than Pentlund
Hills. But it is no matter ; blessed be He
in whom souls may meet and concentre in
constant rest, and in renewed thoughts and
desires intervisit, every day, in despite of
large lumps of earth. And, in much greater
matters, how little imports the defeat of our
purposes as to any thing without us, if it
please him to shine on and advance our great
business within ! O ! what is all the world
to it, to that bright purity we aspire to, and
the blessed eternity we hope for ! And how
great reason have we to say, non mayna re-
linquo, magna sequor ! I thank you for
LETTERS.
683
the notice of your capuchin ; but I almost
knew that he was not here before I looked.
It is true the variety of his book refreshes us,
and by the happy wording, the same things
not only please, but sometimes profit us ;
but they tell us no new thing, except it may
be some such thing as, I confess, I under-
stand not, of essential unions and sleeps of
the soul ; which because I understand them
not, would rather disorder and hinder than
advance me ; and therefore I begin to be
unwilling to look over these and such like,
unless I would pick out here and there such
tilings as I am capable of, and not meet
with those steep ascents which I dare not
venture on. But dear o Kempis is a way
to it, and oh ! that I could daily study more,
and attain more sublime, humble devotion
there drawn to the life most
soaring treatises I have ever yet met with,
find any th certain and solid use
that is there not plainly and Di
proque est paucis opus et paucis
libris ad bona me could we onoe
thoroughly despise our own base flesh, and
the vain opinion of the world, and live in
the Divine will, as dead to all things beside,
and gladly take the lowest room, he can, if
he please, call for us to go up higher. Oh,
but the misery to have s>in, lust, and pride,
>nd self-will, and self-love, and desire of
esteem amongst men, not only living, but,
rtlas, lively and strong ; and yet, however it
be, let us not faint in our minds, for in the
name of the Lord we shall destroy them.
And in the meantime, blessed — ever blessed
be his name, who hath called us to fight
under his royal standard, and given us to
resolve to live and die there. Amen.
Your Fellow-soldier,
R. L.
No. V.
DEAR BROTHER,
I WROTE to you lately, and troubled you
with the story of my present and daily grow-
ing unhealthiness, which cannot add much,
but something it does, to my wonted long-
ings for the evening, not without hopes that
it shall likewise prove a bright and sweet
morning. Meanwhile it is no great matter
where I pass the few hours that remain, yet
I told you I had some thoughts of spending
them nearer you, but have not yet resolved ,•
but that and all shall be disposed of as is
best. Mr. Aird, who gives you this, I
believe, you have heard me speak of, as one
acquainted with my free thoughts, and that
hath himself a free, unprejudiced soul, and
loves truth and devotion wheresoever he finds
it, even in the greatest crowd of error or
superstition about it. He hath a cell and
a provision amongst the hills in the border
of England, but is threatened with a removal,
upon the title of an old incumbent, who is
at London or near it. If you be acquainted"
with Dr. Cozens, bishop of Durham, or can
recommend him to him by any that is,
if he himself desire it ; or in any other way
can assist him, I entreat it of you. Mrs.
Abernethy tells me her son is in the King's
Life-Guards : if you meet with him, and by
recommending him to my Lord Gerrard's
favour, who commands it, or in any thing
else you can do him good, you will oblige
both me and the honest widow. She makes
often mention of you. Cher Frere, Adieu.
R. L.
MARCH 5.
For Sir Ellis Leighton,
at St. James's.
No. VI.
DEAR FRIEND,
I WISH, after your resolution taken, and I
think a-tiv Sit?, you had barred the door on all
suggestions from without and within, that
might have changed or in the least disturbed
it. Sure I am the reason that convinced
you is still the same, that what you may do,
you may also promise if it be required ; and
I believe the design was so like to make you
serviceable to God, and to souls that he
hath bought, that you would never ha,ve
had just reason to repent it. The like I
dare not say of you now recoiling ; and if I
might again prevail with you, I entreat you
to re-advise the thing betwixt God and your
own heart, and that cleared, as much as
you can, from all mist, both of the fancy of
others and your own melancholy. If you
would meet me at Cuirass or Lithgo*v any
time the next week, and send me word what
day or hour you choose, I would endeavour
not to fail, or if coming to Edinburgh to
speak with you (though at this time well I
cannot) might be likely to do any help to-
wards dispelling the cloud that hath overcast
your mind, I would not grudge the pains.
All I can do at this distance, is to look
up to heaven, who alone powerfully can do
it, and in his blessed hand I leave it, and
you, and myself, and all that concerns us,
and all the world ; and whatsoever you do,
never doubt the unalterable affection of
Your Friend,
R. L.
G84
LETTERS.
No. VII.
SIR,
WHAT the opportunity is that may en-
gage you where you are, seeing you express it
not, 1 cannot particularly know : but what-
soever it is, I yhall be glad if it suit your
mind, and if I could do you any real furthe-
rance in any such thing, I think I need not
tell you how ready the occasion would find
me. Here I see nothing at present worth
the thinking on for you, unless you have a
mind to try a course of tilting for a Regency
in Philosophy, as they call it, which is likely
to be vacant here very shortly, Mr. Wise-
man being upon the point of leaving it and
going to sleep. If you find a stomach to
it, all I can promise is, endeavour to see fair
play ; and if you make one you would be
s<>re to win, if it depended on the wishes of,
SIB,
Your Friend and Servant.
No. VIII
Sin,
I SHOULD please myself very much in
doing any thing towards your repose ; but
there is nothing such as 1 wish within my
reach, nor within my view. The humanity
place will either not be vacant, or if it be, I
think we shall break it for some reason. Of
the~ other I wrote to you, you can only judge
whether it suits your genius and ir.cKnation ;
neither (if it did) have I power to promise
any thing but heavy endeavours if I see it
feasible, having no assurance of prevailing.
But one thing I am sure of, and so are you,
and it is enough, that to them that fear the
Lord and trust in him, no good thing shall
be wanting. The choosing of some dubious
steps of our way may now and then be a
little troublesome, but the comfort is, the
journey will be quickly done, and then we
hope to be where there are no desires nor
deliberations of change of quarters. I am,
Yours.
I suppose you have heard of Mr. Andrew
Gray's death. He has got the start of
us, but not for long. I am likely to preach
to-morrow (God willing) in our own Hall,
•where for the present meets one of the
Town Congregations.
No. IX.
Sin,
I THIKK you know the reason of my for-
bearing to write ; for you cannot but know
that letters sent by the post are roken open
very frequently, if not constantly of late ; and
other way I know none. I often entreated that
favour of my John to inquire at your sisters
how you were, if she did hear, and if she
knew any safe convey of letters to you ; bat
he did as he uses to do in divers of the few
letter services I have for him, and I am be-
holden to his neglects. Meanwhile my not
forgetting you, you may be assured of, while
I shall continue to remember myself. When
I think how little or nothing it is my letters
speak other than some short word, dropped
as it comes, reflecting to you some of your
own thoughts, I am pained with your rec-
koning them any thing at all. Your impart-
ing the particulars relating to yourself, though
in extrinsic things, I do very heartily thank
you for ; for such communications are a re
doubling the pleasure in them : and seeing
our great Father's love descends to the or-
dering of the low concernments of our life,
we were very unwise and ungrateful not to
observe them, who hath made flies with so
much art, and is truly maguus in minimis.
Courage, it shall be well ; we follow a con-
quering general ; yea, who hath conquered
already 5 el qni semel vicil pro noLis, semper
vicet in nobig. For myself' at present, I am,
(as we use to say,) that is, this little con-
temptible lodge of mine is, not very well ;
but that will pass some way or other, as it
is best ; and even while the indisposition
lasts, Oh ! how much doth it heighten the
sweet, relish of peace within, of which I can-
not speak highly ; for to you I speak just as
it is. But methinks I find a growing con-
tempt of all this world, and consequently
some further degrees of that quiet which is
only subject to disturbance by cur inordinate
fancies and desires, and receding from the
blessed centre of our rest : for hurries of
the world you know the way, Isa. xxvi. 20 ;
and in these retiring rooms we meet and be
safe and quiet. That you may speak of the
shock seeming to threaten your Order, I am
not afraid of at all, neither for you nor myself,
nor the generality of the rest ; but you may
be assured, that, in that case, the lot of those
in my posture will be the same with yours.
Sed Jehovah regnal, circuitor Genlis et
cum reliquis etiam insults, Farewell, dear
Brother.
Yours.
No. X.
DEAR FRIEND,
WHETHER you know the particular pur~
port of the enclosed you sent me, I know not ;
LETTERS.
685
but it is to quit Ten Pounds sterling sup-
posed due to me from the party that pleads
inability : and doubtless your recommenda-
tion, together with the charity of the thing,
(if it snail appear to be so,) would easily
give law to me for a greater sum than that.
But the truth is, there is a main mistake in
the business, for it is not payable to me, and
therefore no way in my power, for my Lord
'Bargeny hath a lease of all my little dues
in these parts for nineteen years, upon very
easy terms as they inform me ; yet whether
he will consider that so as to make such an
abatement of what is now his due and not
mine, I cannot tell ; neither have I any
power to carve upon what is nis without pay-
ing it back, or some way compensing it to
him myself; and yet even that I shall not
decline, if, after you and I both know the
more particular state of the business and the
person, you shall judge it reasonable. This
is all I can say to that at present ; and I will
not enter upon any other discourse by this ;
for the truth is, there is little to be said and
much to be done. You and I are, I trust,
upon a design that will reflect a very low es-
timate upon all below it, and it shall certain-
ly succeed if we be careful to stick to our
Leader, and follow him.
Pray for
Your poor Friend and Servant,
R. L.
MARCH, 1670.
To the Rev. Mr. AIRD, \
Minister at Tory. /
No. XI.
DEAR FRIEND,
I AM very sorry for the indisposition you
are under, but I assure you I do not value
myself, nor any thing I say or do either upon
this or any other occasion, worth your pains
of writing, far less on a journey hither ; yet
I should gladly enjoy your mistake in think-
ing otherwise, if I was in a posture capable
of the pleasure others have of your abode
under my roof for some longer time. The
persons you mention in order to that affair,
&c. — I have not seen nor heard any thing
from any of them since my last, nor expect
that I shall till the beginning of June, at
Edinburgh, where I intend (God willing)
to be, and desire, if it may be, to see you
there. I have thoughts of going thither
somewhat before that time, and therefore, if
I did not signify such to you, I fear you
might miss me if you came hither.
As for the business, it is very safe, with
all our other interests of Time and Eternity,
in our Blessed Father's hand, of all Fathers
die wisest and the best He, I am sure,
can mould either your heart or theirs you
have to do withal, as he thinks fit, and it
shall be as it is best to be ; therefore if we
were together, I should not very eagerly dis-
pute the matter with you, far less will I by
scribbling. Let your heart keep near to him,
and be daily purging out all that may inter-
pose and obstruct our closest union, and we
have nothing else ;o care for. This moment
is posting away, and that blessed day is
hastening forward that shall complete that
union.
Pray for your lame Fellow-traveller,
R. L.
I should chide you, if I could do it sharply
enough, for entertaining the least thought
of any such jealousy, as I think very in-
congruous with the strength and mutual
confidence of solid friendship.
Received at Carmarthen, 14th MA*, 1G68.
No. XII.
SIR,
WAVIXG all other discourse till meeting,
though you are possibly enamoured with
your vacancy, yet if you find any return of
appetite to employment in the ministry, I
am once again to offer you an invitation, for
there is a place or two now vacant at my dis-
posal. It is true it is by the removal of the
former incumbents against their will, but
you are not guilty of that by succeeding them,
nor I by giving a call to any that will ; for
you may be sure they are not within the
bounds I have charge of, but in other dio-
ceses. There is one place indeed in my
precincts now vacant, and yet undisposed of,
by the voluntary remove of a young man that
was in it to a better benefice, and this is
likewise in my hand ; but it is so wretched-
ly mean a provision, that I am ashamed to
name it, little I think above five hundred
marks a-year. If the many instances of that
kind you have read have made you in love
with voluntary poverty, there you may have
it ; but wheresoever you are or shall be for
the rest of your time, I hope you are advan-
cing in that blessed poverty of spirit that is
the only true height and greatness of spirit
in all the world entitling to a crown, " for
theirs is the kingdom of heaven." Oh !
what are the scraps that the great ones of
this world are scrambling for compared with
that pretension ! I pray you, as you find an
opportunity, though possibly little or no in-
clination to it, yet bestow one line or two
upon
Your poor Friend and Servant,
It. L.
Edinburgh, JULY 5, 1662.
To Mr JAMES AIPD.
CUG
LETTERS.
No. XIII.
SIR,
I LONG to hear bow you dispose of yourself
if it be determined. If still in suspense, I
still wish you the favourable impression of
that hand to which I know you have de-
liver'd up yourself; if you be resolved upon
a removal, and incline to the like charge
here upon a fair call, I desire to know it,
by the first opportunity, for I hear there is
somewhat of that kind in the West likely
to be at my disposal ; I would not have
this unsettle your propension to stay where
you are, if you find any thing within you,
for thorns grow every where, and from all
things below : and to a soul transplanted
out of itself into the root of Jesse, peace
grows every where too, from him who is call-
ed our Peace, and whom we still find the
more to be so, the more entirely we live to
him, being dead to this world, and self, and
all things besides him. Oh ! when shall it
be ? Well, let all the world go as it will,
let this be our only pursuit and ambition,
and to all other things Jiat volunlas lua^
Domine — that both is painful in some in-
stance is the dubiousness.
No. XIV.
DEAR FRIEND,
BEING at present not well, I shall say no
more but that I take these communications
as a singular act of the truest kindness and
friendship, and heartily thank you for them,
and am glad to find that there are some souls
in this world truly sick of it all, that being,
in my opinion, a very happy symptom and
prognostic of a prevailing health — such a de-
gree of it at least as may be had in the dis-
eased, defiled cottages wherein we dwell,
and may be to us a certain pledge of real be-
ginning of that full health we look for at
our removal, and therefore have so much rea-
son to long and wish earnestly and sigh and
groan for that day, and yet have no less rea-
son to wait patiently for it. Pray for
Your poor Friend,
21st MARCH, 16G9. R. L.
No. XV.
DEAR FRIEND,
I WAS refreshed by the account of your feast
in your former, of which I trust I was par-
ticipant as to the blessing of it, for though
absent, I was heartily with you in desire.
The accident your letter acquaints me with,
I think concerns you little or nothing ; for
if there was any offence in the printing it,
it rests upon him that procured it, and the
printer ; but for instructing your own flock
in what way you judge most accommodated
to them, who can blame you ? However,
when I meet with the archbishop, I shall
(God willing) represent the business to him
as it is, if I find it needful ; but if you
think it hath come to his knowledge, and
that with some misreport and disguise, I be-
lieve it might not be amiss for you to give
him the true and ingenuous account yourself
by a letter, for, it may be, some weeks may
pass before I see him.
But Oh ! how quickly will all these things
be gone, and even at present a look beyond
them makes them disappear ! Let us man-
age our ways as prudently and profitably to
our main end as we can, and let the world
descant as they will. Blessed are the up-
right in heart, for their great Judge and
Master sees into the heart, and cannot mis-
take them. Pray for
Your poor Friend,
R. L.
No. XVI.
DEAR. FRIEND,
I DO very much commend the activeness ol
your charity in the journey you have taken ;
for the success, though I had much desire
and some little hopes of better, yet I suspect-
ed how it might prove, unless this one con-
sideration, tlieextremenecessity of this church
at this time, did prevail with our friend to
do violence to himself. I hope you both pan
don me for the very reason that I moved it,
and that I am but to be angry or impatient
at it, I could not pardon myself. I look t«
Him who makes every thing beautiful in its
season, and remember that saying of his,
" Your time is always ready, but my time is
not yet." As we are to forbear forbidden
fruits at all times, so not to pull the best
fruit in his garden till he allows us, and some
way signifies he thinks them duly ripe for use.
I do heartily thank you for the kindness of
communicating the inclosed letters : for
next to what is within me, the painful re-
flecting I have on this world is, that there
is so small a part of mankind in whose
breasts such thoughts are stirring, and am
somewhat relieved, when I meet with any
thing of that kind, and long to meet with
more, or be gone where no such wishes are
needful. O ! this dark night is very long;
but blessed hope of that bright morning with-
out cloud that is hastening forward. Well,
no more, hut pray for
Your poor Friend and Servant,
R. L.
I beseech you pain me not again with so
excessively canonical a superscription of
your letters, for there is no need of it
though they were to pass through twent,
LETTERS.
G«7
hands. Since I wrote this I received
another of yours for Mr. Blair. The
truth is, for this next year I am already j
engaged to ona that both needs and de- !
serves a little help, and am bespoke for |
another to succeed the year after, but have ;
not absolutely promised, and I therefore i
am at a little more liberty to consider it !
against that time, if it please God to con-
tinue me here so long ; for the youth you
name you may be assured, if it can fall on
that side, his relation to our brother and
your recommendation will have very much
weight to make it so, and that is all I can
say of it at present.
For my llcv. Brother Mr. Ainu, )
Minister at Torriburn. i
No. XVII.
SIR,
I WISH I could punctually resolve you con-
cerning that freedom of commencing to
that excellent work which you desire ; but
the truth is, though I believe they are not
there so strait-laced by far as here, yet you
having never exercised at all in public, I am
not sure they would not all enquire concern-
ing that, but it is likely nothing would be re-
quired which (if you be not superstitious on
the other hand) would trouble you. If you
thought fit in the mean time to spend some
weeks in that place you speak of, and to use
the liberty of it in exercising, jtmight possibly
pass for what you would avoid in the other.
And if a fair invitation shall C;>me, He to
whom you have resigned yourself will direct
you.
Sir,
Your very affectionate Friend.
To my own motions or stay, as I am in a
most quiet indifferency myself, you, I am
sure, may much more easily be so. We
are at sea, and cannot expect still to sail
within speech, no nor within sight, but
we hope to arrive at the same " fair
havens."
No. XVIII.
SIR,
THERE is one here come from Ireland
to inquire after able young men for the
Ministry, whom they invite thither, sending
them transport money, and assuring them
of a liberal and certain provision there. He
they sent hath been with me, and was desir-
ous to know if I could recommend any.
It came into my thoughts to give you notice,
that if you find anv inclination that way, I
may know. I will not advise you, much
less press you in it, but leave you wholly to
the freedom of your own thoughts and choice,
and to the best hand tci determine them. I
believe they expect of those that go, an en-
gaging to a pastoral charge ; but whether
for some time they may not give a little
liberty to some or to one at least in a freer
posture to preach, or whether their pastoral
engagement be so indissolubly fast as here,
I know not. You will think on that, and
if you judge it worth so much, let me hear
from you how you relish it. However, I
wish you as to myself much happy success
and advancement in your great design.
Your Friend to serve you.
No. XIX
Sin,
THE Lords of the Council having appoint-
ed some Ministers from other parts, to
preach in such churches within the diocese
of Glasgow as do most need their help, I
desire the Reverend Mr. James Aird,
Minister of Torry, to bestow his pains in
that circuit that lies eastward from Hamil-
ton or thereabouts, and particularly in the
Kirk of Carluke ; not doubting that the
Minister thereof, and others in the like case,
will very gladly receive and earnestly intreat
what help lie can do towards the bringing of
their people to frequent the public ordinances,
and the removing of their prejudices and
calming of their passions, that they may with
one heart worship that one Lord whose name
we all profess to love and honour.
R. LEIGHTOX.
GLASGOW, Sept. 17, 1670.
This is to recommend to the kind recep
tion and assistance of the Gentlemen and
Ministers, to whose parishes he shall resort,
for preaching of the Gospel, within the
diocese of Glasgow, our Reverend Brother
Mr. Lawrence Charteris, Minister at Bar,
being nominated and appointed by the Lords
of Council, with some others from other
parts for that effect.
GLASGOW, Sept. 20, 1670.
To Mr. Charteris are recommended with-
in the Presbytery of Paisley these Kirks,
Neelson, Kilbarchaii, — vacant.
Likewise, if his health permit,
Killelen, and Kilmacome, — though net
vacant.
R. LEIGJITON.
OCT. 19,1670
FINIS.
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