WHICH words give us a short account of our blessed Savi­our's life here on earth; it was spent in doing good: They also teach us after what manner we his disciples ought to live in this World, namely that we should omit no fair opportunity of [Page 2]doing good according to our several abi­lities and capacities. I shall speak to them

I. As referring to our Lord and Savi­viour, and describing his manner of life to us.

II. I shall consider them as prescri­bing to us our duty in imitation of his most glorious example who went about doing good.

(I.) As referring to our Lord and Savi­our, and describing his manner of life to us. Now these words, he went about do­ing good, especially signifie these three things:

1. That this was the chief business and employment of his life, to doe good.

2. That where he did not readily find, he went about to seek objects of pity and compassion.

3. This he constantly persevered in, notwithstanding the foul ingratitude and malicious opposition his good works met with in the World.

1. This was the chief business and em­ployment of his life to doe good. To pro­pound to you the several instances of it, were to give you an history and account of his whole life, the four Gospels being nothing else but the authentick records of those good works Jesus of Nazareth did, containing his excellent instructions, his free reproofs, the wise methods he used for the bettering and reforming men's minds, together with those vari­ous kindnesses he shewed to their bodies and outward estates with a generosity and charity not to be parallell'd by any thing but the divine goodness it self. I shall not therefore descend to particulars, but onely take notice, 1. That doing good was his ordinary daily employment. 2. That to the same end tended all his extraordinary miraculous works: and 3. That this was also the sum and sub­stance of his Religion. From all which it will easily appear, that he made doing good the chief business of his whole life.

(1.) Doing good was his ordinary dai-employment. He did not onely by the by, and on great occasions exercise his [Page 4]charity and compassion, but it was as it were his onely profession, his meat and drink, his business and recreation too; so that he denied himself the conveniences of this life that he might attend this work. How was he throng'd after and press'd up­on by the miserable and unfortunate, the diseased and possessed in all places where­ever he came, and can you tell of any one person whom he ever sent from his presence dissatisfied? It was but saying Lord have mercy upon me, and the poor humble beggar's wants (of what kind soever) were strait supplied.

And by these acts of love and kindness he did engage men to hearken to his wise counsels, and obey his gratious commands, for he had a farther design in all this com­passion which he shewed towards mens bo­dies and outward estates, viz. to heal their bodies and their minds both together; to instill and insinuate good instruction, and to promote men's eternal welfare, by contributing so much to their ease and happiness in this present life.

All this good he did with the greatest readiness and joy; it was his greatest [Page 5]pleasure to spread his healing wings over every place, continually to dispense his benign influences and favours, and to make every one, who had the happiness to converse with him, sensible of his good-will to Mankind. Nor from this would he ever rest, not so much as on the Sabbath-day, though he was accoun­ted a Transgressour for it. He consulted the good of other men above his own re­putation, and would cure the sick on that day even before those who thought it a great piece of prophaneness and wickedness so to doe. He wanted ob­jects sooner than will to shew kindness; and nothing grieved him so much as that men by their own malice and perverse­ness should obstruct and defeat his gra­tious designs toward them, and obsti­nately refuse to be made happy by him.

(2.) This was not onely his ordinary daily employment, but for this end did he always exercise his extraordinary di­vine power, to doe benefits. All his Miracles were mercies to men, so that his wonderfull works proved him to be sent from God, not more by that infinite power that was seen in them, than by [Page 6]that surpassing goodness they demonstra­ted to the World.

He never employed his omnipotence out of levity or ostentation, but onely as the necessities and wants of Men re­quired it. His miraculous works were not such as the Jews sometimes deman­ded and expected from him, such onely as would strike their senses and fancy with admiration and astonishment, as the making prodigious and amazing shews and representations in the Hea­vens, or in the Air; but they were all expressions of a most immense benignity and charity to Mankind, such as healing the sick of all manner of diseases, making the lame to walk, and the blind to see, and the deaf to hear, cleansing the le­pers, feeding the hungry, raising the dead, and casting evil spirits out of those that were miserably possessed with them, and cruelly tormented by them.

In such good offices, so usefull and profitable to Men, did he all along exert and manifest that divine power which God had anointed him with, thus de­monstrating himself to be the most di­vine [Page 7]person that ever appeared in our flesh, not onely by doing the strangest and most miraculous works, but especi­ally by doing the most good in the World.

(3.) To doe good was the sum and sub­stance of his Religion. He affected not any precise singularities, or unusual seve­rities of life. Of all the time he was here on earth, he spent but forty days in the Wilderness in close solitude and retire­ment; the rest of his time he conversed freely and openly, that thereby he might have opportunity of obliging and bene­fiting all sorts of Men. He neglected not indeed any duty of piety towards God, but then his love to God shone forth most resplendently in his incessant care of, and charity to his Creatures. He knew he could not please or glorify his Father better, than by bearing much fruit, or, which is all one, doing much good in the World.

His Religion was active and opera­tive: it consisted not in notions or for­malities, or external abstinences and strictnesses, by which the several Sects [Page 8]amongst the Jews were distinguished one from another; but the principal thing he was most remarkable for in his way of living was a most sincere readiness to doe all manner of good to all that came to him. He pretended not to any sera­phick enthusiastical raptures, or inimi­table unaccountable transports of devo­tion, or wonderfull mortification; others might pray oftner and longer, fast more than He or his Disciples did, (as we know was objected against him by St. John's disciples;) but no Saint, no Prophet, no Man ever before him so served God in his generation, or was either able or wil­ling to shew such considerable kindnesses to the World as our blessed Lord and Sa­viour did.

And in this chiefly did his holiness and godliness appear above the rate and pitch of other mens, in that he was so infinite­ly mercifull and charitable: He made not such a pompous outward shew of Re­ligion as some of the Pharisees did, but his actions truly bespoke him what he was, a person infinitely full of goodness, that could not be at ease without conti­nual venting it self; nor yet by all the [Page 9]wants, infirmities, necessities, either of mens minds or bodies could ever be ex­hausted.

Thus he made doing good the chief business and employment of his whole life, which is the first thing signified by these words.

2. That he went about doing good im­plies farther, that where he did not ea­sily meet with, he industriously sought out objects of pity and compassion. His goodness did often prevent mens desires, always surpass them, doing for them be­yond all their requests or hopes. He came to seek and save that which was lost.

He descended from the bosome of his Father, and eclipsed the glory of his Di­vine Majesty with a veil of flesh, and li­ved amongst us, that he might redeem us from the greatest evils and miseries, even whilst we were enemies to him, and desired no more than we deserved his love and favour. And whilst he was here upon earth, he was not onely easie of access, he did not onely courteously receive all that addressed themselves to [Page 10]him, he not onely freely invited and en­couraged all men to repair to him for succour and relief; but also did not dis­dain himself to travel up and down the Countrey on purpose to give opportuni­ty to all that stood in need of him, to partake of his healing vertue and power. Those whom his Disciples checked for their rude and troublesome importunity, he lovingly entertained, and never dis­missed without a blessing.

This mightily enhanced the value of every kindness he bestowed, the frank­ness of his doing it doubled the benefit. We spoil a good turn when it is extor­ted from us. It loseth all its grace and acceptableness when it is done grudgingly, and as of necessity.

Nay our Saviour denied not to con­verse familiarly with Publicans and the greatest Sinners; he endeared himself to them by signal condescensions, though this also proved matter of reproach and infamy to him: as if he countenanced those vices he attempted to cure, or it were any disgrace to a Physitian to visit his patients. He refused not the civil of­fer [Page 11]of a Pharisee, though his sworn ene­my, and would go to the houses, and eat at the table of those who sought his ruine: and whatever ill design they might have in inviting him, yet he always improved the occasion for the doing them some considerable good.

3. And Lastly. He constantly perse­vered in this notwithstanding the foul ingratitude and malitious opposition his good works met with in the World. Ne­ver did any one meet with greater dis­couragements, or more unworthy returns than the Son of God, when all his acts of beneficence, all the good offices he had done amongst them were so far from ob­liging, that they rather tended to exa­sperate and provoke that untoward gene­ration; and the more kindness he ex­pressed toward them, the greater hast they made to betray and destroy him. This great Patron and Benefactour, this generous friend and lover of Mankind, was mortally hated and cruelly persecu­ted, as if he had been a publick enemy, and had done or designed some notorious mischief. They continually laid traps to ensnare him, loaded him with malitious [Page 12]slanders, greedily watched for an advan­tage to animate the multitude against him, took up stones to throw at him, as a reward of his gratious attemt to make them wise and happy; put bad constru­ctions, and made sinister interpretations of all the good he did, as if he designed to caress the people, and by such arts to gratify his ambition, and make himself popular. So that this great and gallant person was looked upon as a dangerous man, and the more good he did, the more he was feared and suspected: yet all this and a thousand times worse usage could not disswade him from persisting in doing good to them. He was ready to repay all these injuries with courtesies, even his bitterest enemies were partakers of his kindness, and he still continued to entreat them to accept of life from him, and with tears of true compassion be­wailed their infidelity and wilfull folly. Nay at last when they laid violent hands upon him, and put him to the shamefull death of the Cross, yet then did he pray to his Father to forgive them; and which is still most wonderfull, and is the ve­ry perfection of charity, he willingly laid down his life for them who so [Page 13]cruelly and treacherously took it from him. Thus our Lord went about doing good; Let us who are his disciples and followers go now and doe likewise: which brings me to the second thing I was to consider in these words, viz.

II. Our duty in imitation of his most glorious example, who went about doing good.

‘But we, you'll say, are not in a capa­city, we have not ability or opportuni­ty of doing good in that ample manner, in that measure and degree our Lord did. We cannot by any means, (how­ever willing to it or diligent in it) come up to the perfection of this noble and heroical example. Were such mi­raculous powers communicated to us as were to our Saviour, so that by a word speaking we could heal all manner of sickness, and restore sight to the blind, and feet to the lame; could we in­struct the ignorant, reprove the pro­p [...]ane, admonish the erring with so much ease, advantage and authority as our blessed Lord did, we should then perhaps be very free and liberal in im­parting [Page 14]those great favours and bles­sings Heaven had so signally bestowed upon us, for the good and benefit of others; but alas! as things now stand with us, we have neither power, nor skill, nor means to doe good at all af­ter that illustrious manner our Saviour did.’

To which all I shall at present reply is, that though we cannot after that stupen­dious manner be beneficial to mankind as our Saviour was, yet there are very many things which we are able to doe for the good of others, which our blessed Saviour could not doe by reason of his po­verty and low estate in this World, with­out the expence of a miracle.

Few of us but as to our outward cir­cumstances in this life are in a far more plentifull condition than the Son of God himself was, whilst here on earth: and it is in our power by ordinary ways to relieve and succour, oblige and benefit many, so as our Lord could not doe, without employing his divine power to furnish himself with means for it.

Be pleased therefore to take notice that it is not doing good just in the same in­stances, or after that same wonderfull manner, that this example obligeth us unto, but onely to a like willingness and readiness to doe good upon all fit occa­sions, as far as our power and activity reacheth; it obligeth us all in our several stations, according to those opportunities God hath afforded us, and those abilities he hath endued us with, and those con­ditions of life his providence hath placed us in, to endeavour, as much as in us lieth, the welfare and prosperity, ease and happiness of all men; so that others may bless the divine goodness for us, the state of their bodies or minds being bet­tered by our imparting to them what God hath more abundantly bestowed up­on us.

Contrary to which is a narrow, selfish, stingy spirit, when we are concerned for none but our selves, and regard not how it fares with other men, so it be but well with us; when we follow our own hu­mour, and with great pleasure enjoy the accommodations of our own state; when [Page 16]we think our own happiness the greater because we have it alone to our selves, and no other partakes of it: which of all other things is the most directly opposite to that benign and compassionate temper, which our Saviour came into the World by his doctrine and example to implant in men.

I shall not undertake to set before you the several instances of doing good to o­thers, since they are so various and infi­nite, and our duty varies according to our circumstances and opportunities, which are very different; and every one may easily find them out by considering what good he would have other Men doe for him. What he should reasonably ex­pect or would take kindly from those he converseth with, or is any ways related unto, all that he is in like cases to be willing to doe for another; so that this doing good is a work of large compre­hensive extent and universal influence; it reacheth to the souls and bodies of men, and takes in all those ways and means whereby we may promote the temporal, spiritual or eternal advantage of others. And to so happy and noble [Page 17]an employment one would think there should be no need of persuasion. How­ever I humbly beg your patience whilst I put you in mind of some of those argu­ments and considerations which seem most proper and effectual to engage men to the imitation of this blessed example, to doe all the good they can in the World.

1. This of all other employments is most agreeable to our natures. By do­ing good we gratify and comply with the best and noblest of our natural incli­nations and appetites. The very same sense which informs us of our own wants, and doth powerfully move and instigate us to provide for their relief, doth also resent the distresses of another, and vehemently provoke and urge us to yield him all necessary succour. This is true in all men, but most apparent in the best natures, that at beholding the miseries and calamities of other men, they find such yernings of their bowels, and such sensible commotions and pas­sions raised in their own breasts, as they can by no means satisfy, but by reaching forth their helping-hand: and to deny [Page 18]our assistance according as our ability permits us, is a violence to our very na­tural instincts and propensions, as well as contrary to our religious obligations: Our very flesh which in many other in­stances tempts us to sin, yet in this case prompts us to our duty.

This is a gratious provision God Al­mighty hath made in favour of the ne­cessitous and calamitous; that since his providence, for great reasons, is pleased to permit such inequalities in mens for­tunes and outward conditions, the state of some in this life being so extremely wretched and deplorable, if compared with others; lest the sick and blind, and naked and poor should seem to be forgot­ten, or wholly disregarded by their Ma­ker; he hath therefore implanted in men a quick and tender sense of pity and com­passion, which should always solicit and plead their cause, stand their friend, and not onely dispose us, but e'en force us for our own quiet and satisfaction, though with some inconvenience to our selves, to re­lieve and succour the afflicted and mise­rable, according to our several capacities and opportunities. And this sympathy [Page 19]doth as truly belong to humane nature, as love, desire, hope, fear, or any other affection of our minds; and it is as easie a matter to devest our selves of any other passion as of this of pity; and he who, like the Priest and Levite in our Savi­our's Parable of the wounded man, is void of all compassion, is degenerated not so much into the likeness of a brute beast, as of the hardest rock or marble. Thus to doe good is according to the very make and frame of our beings and na­tures.

2. Hence it follows that it must be the most pleasant and delightfull em­ployment we can choose for our selves. Whatever is according to our nature, must for that reason be pleasant: for all actual pleasure consists in the gratifica­tion and satisfaction of our natural incli­nations and appetites. Since therefore the very constitution and temper of our nature sway and prompt us to the exercise of charity and beneficence, the satisfying such inclinations by doing good must be as truly gratefull to us, as any other thing or action whatever that ministreth to our pleasure; and it cannot be more [Page 20]delightfull to receive kindnesses than it is to bestow them. A seasonable unexpe­cted relief doth not affect him that stands in great need of it with more sensible contentment, than the opportunity of doing it doth rejoice a good man's heart. Nay it may be doubted on which hand lies the greatest obligation; whether he who receives is more obliged to the gi­ver for the good turn he hath done him, or the giver be more obliged to the re­ceiver for the occasion of exercising his goodness. When we receive great kind­nesses it puts us to the blush: we are ashamed to be so highly obliged; but the joy of doing them is pure and un­mixed: and this our Saviour hath told us, Acts 20.35. It is more blessed to give than to receive; and some good men have ventured to call it the greatest sensuality, a piece of Epicurism, and have magnified the exceeding indulgence of God, who hath annexed future rewards to that which is so amply its own recompence.

These two advantages this pleasure of doing good hath above all other pleasures whatever.

(1.) That this satisfaction doth not one­ly just accompany the act of doing good, but it is permanent and lasting, endures as long as our lives. The very remem­brance of such charitable deeds by which we have been really helpfull and service­able to others, our after-reflexion upon the good we have done in the world doth wonderfully refresh our souls with a mighty joy and peace, quite contrary to all other worldly and corporeal plea­sures. There are indeed some vices which promise a great deal of pleasure in the commission of them, but then at best it is but short-lived and transient, a sud­den flash presently extinguisht. It pe­rishes in the very enjoyment, like the crackling of thorns under a pot, as the Wise-man elegantly expresses it; it pre­sently expires in a short blaze and noise, but hath very little heat or warmth in it. All outward bodily pleasures are of a ve­ry fugitive volatile nature, there's no fix­ing them; and if we endeavour to make up this defect by a frequent repetition and constant succession of them, they then soon become nauseous; men are cloyed and tired with them. Nor is this yet [Page 22]all; these sensual pleasures do not onely suddenly pass away, but also leave a sting behind them, they wound our con­sciences, the thoughts of them are un­easie to us; guilt and a bitter repentance are the attendants of such indulging our selves, sadness and melancholy comes in the place of all such exorbitant mirth and jollity. These are the constant abate­ments of all outward unlawfull pleasures. Whereas that which springs from a mind satisfied and well pleased with its own actions, doth for ever affect our hearts with a delicious relish; continually mi­nisters comfort and delight to us; is a never-failing fountain of joy, such as is solid and substantial; fills our minds with good hopes and chearfull thoughts; and is the onely certain ground of true peace and contentment.

(2.) This pleasure and joy that attends doing good doth herein exceed all fleshly delights, that it is then at the highest when we stand in most need of it: In a time of affliction, old age, or at the ap­proach of death, the remembrance of our good deeds will strangely cheer and support our spirits under all the calami­ties [Page 23]and troubles we may meet with in this state. By doing good we lay up a treasure of comfort, a stock of joy a­gainst an evil day, which no outward thing can rob us of. But now it is not thus with bodily pleasures; they cannot help us in a time of need, they then be­come miserably flat and insipid; the sin­ner cannot any longer taste or relish them: nothing remains but a guilty sense, which in such time of distress is more fierce and raging, especially at the hour of death.

Yet even then, when all our former inordinate pleasures shall prove matter of anguish and torment to us, when all the flowers of worldly glory shall be withe­red, when all earthly beauty which now doth so tempt and bewitch us, shall be darkned and eclipsed, when this world and the fashion of it is vanished and gone, when the pangs of death are just taking hold of us, and we are ready to step into another world, what a seasonable and comfortable refreshment then will it be to look back upon a well-spent life? to consider with our selves how faithfully we have improved those talents God [Page 24]hath intrusted us with; how well we have husbanded our time, estates, parts, reputation, learning, authority, for the glory of God and the good of other men. The time will surely shortly come where­in you shall vastly more rejoice in that little you have laid out or expended for the benefit of others, than in all that which by so long toil and drudgery in the world you shall have saved and pur­chased. They are not your great pos­sessions, lands or estates, nor your dig­nities and titles of honour, nor your emi­nent places and trusts, nor any external advantages you have purchased or acqui­red, that at such a time will yield you any true peace or comfortable hope. What use you have made of them, and what good you have done with them, is that which your conscience will then en­quire after, and accordingly pronounce its sentence.

3. To doe good is the most divine and God-like thing. By it we do most espe­cially become like unto God, who is good, and who doth good; and not onely like him, but we resemble him in that which is his very nature and essence, and [Page 25]which he esteems his greatest glory: for such is his goodness, which doth as it were deify all his other attributes and perfections.

There is no quality or disposition what­ever by which we can so near approach the divine Majesty, as this of beneficence, and delight in doing good. As for know­ledge and power the evil Spirits partake of them in a greater degree than the best men, but a man hath nothing of God so much as to doe good. By contributing to the contentment of other men, and rendring them as happy as lieth in our power, we doe God's work, are in his place and room, perform his office in the world; we make up the seeming defects of his providence, and one man thereby becomes as it were a God to another. Hence this employment must needs be the highest accomplishment and perfe­ction of our beings. It is the onely argu­ment of a brave and great soul to extend his care and thoughts for the good of all men; and not to doe so is a certain indi­cation of a little narrow spirit, contra­cted within it self and its own paltry con­cernments.

4. This is the very end of all the bles­sings and several advantages God hath vouchsafed to Men in this life, that by them they might become capable of do­ing good in the World; this is the pro­per use they are to be put to, for which they were designed by the authour and donour of them; and if they are not em­ployed to such purposes, we are false to our trust, and the stewardship commit­ted to us, and shall be one day severely accountable to God for it. For the Al­mighty and Sovereign Lord and disposer of all things both in Heaven and Earth hath assigned to every man his particu­lar place and station in this World, hath given him his part to act on this great theatre, hath furnished him with powers and abilities of mind and body fitted for several uses, in the due and regular im­provement and management of which, every one may in some measure be help­full and serviceable to others. This our Saviour illustrates by his excellent para­ble of the Talents, St. Matth. 25.

There is no man but God hath put many excellent things into his possession, [Page 27]to be used, improved and managed by him for the common good and interest: for men are made for society and mutual fellowship. We are not born for our selves alone, but every other man hath some right and interest in us, and as no man can live happily in this World with­out the help and assistance of others, so neither is any man exempted or privi­ledged from being in his place some way beneficial to others,

It is with men in this World, as it is with the parts of the body natural. It is St. Paul's comparison, 1 Cor. 12. the bo­dy consists of divers members, which neither have the same dignity and ho­nour, nor the same use and office, but every part hath its proper use and functi­on, whereby it becomes serviceable to the whole body, and if any one part fails or is ill affected, the whole suffers for it, and the meanest part is necessary for the good of the whole; so that the eye cannot say to the hand, I have no need of thee, nor again the head to the feet, I have no no need of you. Thus hath God distribu­ted several gifts amongst the sons of men, or they by God's blessing upon their in­dustry [Page 28]acquire particular art, skill and experience, some in one thing, some in another, none in all; so that it is impos­sible, but that every man must want something for the conveniency of his life, for which he must be obliged to others; upon which accompt it is most highly reasonable that he also himself should some way oblige and serve others.

But besides this there are many special favours and advantages which some men enjoy above others, which also are de­signed for the common good and benefit. It is plain that there is a very great ine­quality amongst men both as to the in­ternal endowments of their minds and their external conditions in this life. Ma­ny more talents are committed to some persons than to others; but yet we great­ly mistake when we think them given us merely for our own sakes, to serve our own turns, and for the satisfaction of our own private appetites and desires, without any respect to other men. No, at the best they are but deposited with us in trust, the more we enjoy of them the greater charge we have upon our hands, and the more plentifull returns [Page 29]God doth justly expect from us; for un­to whomsoever much is given, saith our Saviour, of him shall be much required.

This ought especially to be considered by all those who by reason of the eminen­cy of their qualities and dignities, and by their superiority above others, have vast authority over them, whose sphere is large and influence great, who have many dependents who court their favour and whose interest it is to observe and please them: what infinite good may such doe in the world, especially by their example?

5. Doing good is the main and most substantial part of Christian Religion, the most acceptable sacrifice we can offer, or service we can perform to God; and therefore do we so often find in Scripture all Religion summed up as it were in this one thing, it being the best expression of our duty towards God, and either for­mally containing or naturally producing all our duty towards our neighbour, whence this is said to be the fulfilling of the whole law. It is not enough that we give to every man what is due to [Page 30]him. His Religion is but very little and of a narrow compass, who is onely just, nay he that is rigidly so in all cases hath no Religion at all: that I have wronged no man will be a poor plea or apology at the last day, for it is not for rapine or injury, for pillaging or cousening their neighbours, that men at the last day are formally impeached and finally condem­ned, but I was an hungry and ye gave me no meat, I was a stranger and ye took me not in; you neglected to doe that good which you had power and opportunity to doe.

Some men are so taken up with their courses of piety and devotion, that they have no time to doe much good; if they be but temperate and just, and come fre­quently to Church, and constantly per­form the duties of God's worship, this they hope will carry them to Heaven though they are notoriously covetous and uncharitable, and hardly ever doe any good office for their neighbours or brethren. Some again there are who pretend to be of a more spiritual and re­fined Religion, spend their time in con­templation, and talk much of commu­nion [Page 31]with God, but look upon this way of serving God by doing good as a lower at­tainment, an inferior dispensation suitable to children and novices in Religion, and think that they are excused from these mean duties; and yet reade over the life of the best man that ever lived, the founder of our Faith and Religion, and you cannot but confess what I have already shewn you, that the great thing he was most exem­plary and illustrious for, was his unwea­ried readiness to help and oblige all men, he went about doing good: and it is a scan­dal raised on our Church, that we do not hold the necessity of good works in or­der to salvation, but trust wholly to faith; for we hold and teach them to be as ne­cessary as Papists themselves can or doe, but then we say they are accepted by God onely for the sake of Jesus Christ.

6. And Lastly. Nothing hath greater rewards annexed to it than doing good and that both in this life and that which is to come. I have time now but just to mention to you some few of those bene­fits and advantages, that do either natu­rally flow from it, or by God's gratious promise are annexed to it.

To doe good with what we enjoy is the most certain way to procure God's blessing upon all we have; it doth en­title us to his more especial care and pro­tection. Trust in the Lord, saith David, and be doing good, so shalt thou dwell in the Land, and verily thou shalt be fed. The divine goodness cannot but be migh­tily pleased to see men so far as they are able imitating it self, and following the example of God's benignity.

For every good office we doe to other men we have some thing to plead with God Almighty to engage him to bestow upon us what we want or desire; not by way of merit or desert, but God himself graciously becoming our debtour, takes what is done to others in such cases as done to himself, and by promise obliges himself to full retaliation.

By this means we provide against an evil day that which will mightily sup­port us under all the troubles and afflicti­ons that may happen to us in this life; our good works will attend us and stand by us at the hour of death, as I have al­ready [Page 33]hinted to you, nay farther our good works will appear and plead for us before God's tribunal, and will procure for us for the sake of Jesus Christ, at the hands of our mercifull God, a glorious recompense at the resurrection of the just; for at the last and final reckoning, when all mens actions shall be scanned and judged, the great King shall pass his sentence according to the good men have done or neglected to doe in this life.

Nay every way so great is the reward of doing good, that even wicked men, who yet have been of bountifull tempers and have had generous spirits, shall fare the better in the other world for those good acts of mercy and charity they have done here; and in this sense it is said (with which I end all) that Charity doth cover a multitude of sins, and to cover sins in the Scripture phrase is to forgive them.

Now of this saying there are several senses given, which I cannot stand now to recite, but the words are true in these two senses.

(1.) If he that is thus truly charitable, and hath done a great deal of good in his generation be also endued with the other vertues and qualifications required in a Christian, then though he may have a great many infirmities and miscarriages to answer for, yet these failings shall be overlooked and buried in his good deeds, and then they mean the same with that of the Psalmist, with the mercifull God will shew himself mercifull, he will shew him all favour possible.

(2.) Or else secondly, if you under­stand these words, Charity shall cover a multitude of sins, as spoken of a person, who though vitious in all other respects yet out of principles of common huma­nity or natural goodness of temper, or greatness of Spirit, is very apt and incli­ned to doe generous and great things for the good of the world; (which is a case that may sometimes happen,) they mean this, that though Charity alone will not be sufficient to make such an one happy in the other world, because he is otherwise incapable of it, yet it shall be considered so far as to lessen his punishment. He [Page 35]shall be in a less intolerable condition, (though that be sad enough) than the cruel and uncharitable, or than they who have delighted in doing mischief.

THE Sacrament of the Lord's Sup­per, which we are now to re­ceive, is undoubtedly the most solemn and venerable part of Christian worship, a most excellent instrument of [Page 38]Religion, an institution of our Saviour's of mighty use and advantage to us, if we duly partake thereof; and yet there is hardly any part of Religion so little or so ill understood by the generality of Christians amongst us, as this duty: which sufficiently appears from that great number of those who constantly join with the Church in all other publick offices of divine worship, and yet wholly neglect the receiving of this Sacrament; or at least communicate so seldom, as if they looked upon themselves at liberty to doe it, or not doe it, as they thought best. I speak not now of the prophane contemners of God and Religion, who despise this as they do all the other duties of God's worship; but of those who pre­tend to the fear of God, and care of their souls, and yet live at ease in the gross omission of this duty.

Now amongst the many pleas or ex­cuses with which men satisfy themselves in the neglect or disuse of this holy Com­munion, that which most generally pre­vails, and perhaps with some honest and well-meaning persons, is the considera­tion of the words of my Text, He that [Page 39]eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh damnation to himself. So dread­full is the threatning and punishment here denounced against those who re­ceive this Sacrament unworthily, that men are apt to think it much the safer and wifer course, never to venture on a duty, the wrong performance of which is attended with so great mischief. Dam­nation is so terrible a word, and to be guil­ty of the body and bloud of Christ (as it is said v. 27. Whosoever shall eat this bread and drink this cup of the Lord un­worthily, shall be guilty of the body and bloud of the Lord) is so heinous a crime, that it may seem the most prudent course for a man to keep himself at the greatest di­stance from all possibility of falling into it. Better never receive at all, than expose ones self to so great hazard by receiving.

I hope therefore it will not be thought altogether unprofitable to entertain you at this time with a discourse on these words, wherein I shall endeavour to give you the full meaning of them, with the true and just inferences and consequences that may be drawn from them. In or­der to which I shall shew you

I. What is meant here by damnation.

II. What by eating and drinking un­worthily.

III. How far this Text may reasona­bly scare and fright people from this Sa­crament.

IV. What is the true consequence from what is here affirmed by the Apo­stle. He that eateth and drinketh unwor­thily, eateth and drinketh damnation to himself.

I. What is meant here by eating and drinking damnation to a man's self. The original word which is here translated damnation truly signifies no more than judgment or punishment in general, of what kind soever it be, temporal or eter­nal. So that there is no necessity of translating it here by the word damna­tion, nay there are two plain reasons why it ought to be understood onely of temporal evils and chastisements.

1. Because the judgments that were inflicted on the Corinthians for their pro­phanation of this holy Sacrament were onely temporal; verse 30th. For this cause many are weak and sickly among you, and many sleep.

2. Because the reason assigned of these judgments is, that they might not be con­demned in the other world, v. 32. But when we are judged (where the same Greek word is used which in my Text is translated damnation) we are chastened of the Lord, that we might not be condem­ned with the world. That is, God in­flicted these evils on the Corinthians, that being reformed by these stripes in this life, they might escape that ven­geance which was reserved for the impe­nitent in another life; and therefore it could not be damnation, that is, eternal damnation that was either threatned or inflicted upon them for their unworthy receiving.

The sum of what the Apostle means seems to be this; that ‘By prophaning this holy Sacrament they would pluck [Page 42]down some remarkable judgment upon their heads. Of this, saith he, you have notorious instances amongst your selves in those various and mortal dis­eases that have been so rise in your Ci­ty; and this God doth to warn you, that you may be awakened to avoid greater and worse judgments that are future and eternal.’ Now this punish­ment was extraordinary and peculiar to that time; for there is no such thing found amongst us at this day, namely, that God doth suddenly smite all unwor­thy Communicants with some grievous disease or sudden death. Nor indeed are men afraid of any such thing, though it is very plain that this is the true meaning of the words of my Text, that by such prophaneness they would bring down some remarkable temporal judgment up­on themselves.

But I shall not insist any longer upon this, but take the word damnation as we commonly understand it, and in that sense, to eat and drink damnation to a man's self, doth imply, that by our un­worthy participation of the Sacrament, we are so far from receiving any benefit [Page 43]or advantage by it, that we do incur God's heaviest displeasure, and render our selves liable to eternal misery; and so proceed

II. To enquire who those are that do run this great danger, they who eat and drink unworthily. Now this phrase of eating unworthily being onely found here in this Chapter, for the understanding of it we are to consider what the faults were with which the Apostle chargeth the Corinthians, and we shall find them to be some very heinous disorders that had crept in amongst them, occasioned by their Love-feasts, at the end of which the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper was usually celebrated; which disorders there­fore were peculiar to those times, and are not now to be found amongst us, as, v. 18. First of all, when ye come toge­ther in the Church, I hear that there be divisions among you, they bandied into se­parate parties; and v. 21. In eating every one taketh before another his own supper; that is, Whereas there was a custome when they came together to commemo­rate Christ's death, to furnish a common table, where no man was to pretend any [Page 44]propriety to what he himself brought, but was to eat in common with the rest, this charitable custome these Corinthians wholly perverted: for he that brought a great deal, fell to that as if it were at his own house, and at his own table, and so fed to the full; whereas another that was able to bring but a little, remained hungry. With such irreverence and disorder did they behave themselves at the Lord's Table, as if they had been met at a common feast: this the Apostle calls not discerning the Lord's body; that is, they made no difference between that heavenly food and common bread; they ate the Sacrament as if it were their ordinary meat. What (saith he v. 22.) have ye not houses to eat and drink in? ye may e'en as well stay at home and doe this; there is nothing of Religion in this, nor is this to celebrate the Sacra­ment according to Christ's institution, whereby we ought to represent his death for the world, and to commemorate his love, and to devote our selves to him in new and better obedience, and not to make it a merry meeting onely to fill our own bellies.

But this was not all; for they were also riotous and intemperate in these Love-feasts. They play'd the gluttons, and were drunk even when they received the holy Sacrament. Now this was so no­torious and foul a prophanation of the holy Mystery, to make it an instrument of debauchery, that we cannot at all wonder that God should so severely threa­ten and punish such an high affront and violation of his sacred ordinance. No judgment could be too great or sharp to vindicate our Saviour's most excellent in­stitution from such impious contempt. But now this is by no means to be exten­ded to every little failure or omission in this duty, or in our preparation for it, as if that did render us such unworthy recei­vers as these Corinthians were, or streight consign us over to the same punishment.

Those scandalous irregularities and ex­cuses are here called eating and drinking unworthily, which were heard of onely in the first ages of the Church, when the Sacrament was always joined with these Love-feasts, which were therefore in pro­cess of time wholly abrogated; and to [Page 46]prevent that intemperance and abuse they had introduced, it generally prevailed to receive this Sacrament fasting. But what­ever faults may be found now amongst our Communicants, yet they cannot be charged with these mentioned in this Chapter. The worst of men, if they do communicate at all, doe it with greater reverence and more suitable deportment than these Corinthians did. So that nei­ther the fault here reproved, nor the pu­nishment denounced, hath place now a­mongst us. What reason then is there, why this text of Scripture should fright any people from the Sacrament, whenas there is neither the same fault committed, nor the same punishment inflicted?

Though this be the just meaning of the words, yet because this plea of un­worthiness to receive is often insisted up­on to excuse our neglect of this Sacra­ment, I shall farther and more largely consider it by proceeding to the third thing I propounded to discourse of.

III. How far this danger of receiving unworthily may reasonably scare and fright people from coming to this Sacra­ment. [Page 47]And here I shall offer these few things to the thoughts of all such as are seriously disposed.

1. In a strict sense we are none of us all worthy of so great a favour and such an high privilege as to be admitted to this Sacrament, or of such excellent bene­fits as are conferred upon us in it. Af­ter all our care, after all our preparation to make our selves fit, yet still we must acknowledge our selves unworthy but to pick up the crums that fall from our master's table, much more to sit and feast at it. If we are not to receive this Sacrament till we can account our selves really wor­thy, the best of men, the more holy and humble they are, the more averse would they be from this duty.

2. This unworthiness is no bar or hin­drance to our receiving this Sacrament. We are not worthy of the least mercy ei­ther spiritual or temporal which we en­joy; must we therefore starve our selves or go naked, because we deserve not our food or rayment? We are not worthy so much as to cast up our eyes towards hea­ven the habitation of God's holiness; but [Page 48]what then, Shall we never make our humble addresses to the throne of God's grace, because we are not worthy to ask, or to have our petitions heard and granted by him? Shall we refuse any favours the kindness of Heaven offers to us, because they are beyond our merits, or more than we could challenge or expect?

It is not said here in the Text, he that is unworthy to eat and drink of this Sacra­ment, if he doth it, eateth and drinketh damnation to himself; if it were, then in­deed we might all be justly afraid of com­ing to this royal feast, but he that eateth and drinketh unworthily: now there is a great deal of difference between these two things, between a man's being unworthy to receive this Sacrament, and his recei­ving it unworthily, which I shall thus il­lustrate.

He, for example, who hath grosly wrong'd, malitiously slander'd, or with­out any provocation of mine treated me very ill, is, as ye will all grant, utterly unworthy of any kindness or favour from me. But now if, notwithstanding this unworthiness, I doe him some conside­rable [Page 49]kindness, and offer him some fa­vour, his unworthiness is no let or hin­drance to his receiving it; and if he ac­cepts it with a due sense and a gratefull mind, and by it is moved to lay aside all his former enmity and animosity, and heartily repents him of his former ill-will against me, and studies how to requite this courtesie, it is then plain that though he were unworthy of the favour, yet he hath now received it worthily, that is, after a due manner, as he ought to have done, and that it hath had its right effect upon him.

So we are all unworthy to partake of this holy banquet, but being invited and admitted we may behave our selves as becometh us in such a presence, at such a solemnity. And if by it we thankful­ly commemorate the death of our Lord, and renounce all our sins and former evil ways, and there give up our selves to be governed by him, and vow better obedi­ence, and are affected with a true sense of his love, then, though unworthy of so great a favour, yet we have worthily, that is after a right manner (as to God's ac­ceptance) received this blessed Sacra­ment. [Page 50]But if now unworthy of so great honour and favour, we also receive it un­worthily after a prophane disorderly man­ner, not at an minding the end, use or de­sign of it, without any repentance for sins past, or resolutions of amendment for the future, and without any gratefull af­fection of love towards our Saviour dy­ing for us, we do by this means indeed highly provoke God Almighty, and just­ly incur his most grievous displeasure.

3. Those who are unworthy and are truly sensible of their own unworthiness, are the very persons for whom this Sa­crament was appointed, and for whose benefit it was instituted. Were we not all sinners we had no need of such means of grace as Sacraments are, nor of such instruments of Religion. Christ came not to call the righteous but sinners to repen­tance. They that are whole need not the physician but they that are sick. Now it is an idle thing for a man to be afraid to receive an aims because he is miserably poor, or to be loth to take physick be­cause he is dangerously sick. If we are truly sensible of our unworthiness, and, as we ought to be, duly affected with it, [Page 51]this is a great argument and motive to engage us not any longer to delay the use of these means, but to hasten to the Sacrament, there to receive supplies and assistances suitable and proportioned to our wants and necessities: the more un­worthy we find our selves, the more we stand in need of this holy Sacrament, whereby our good resolutions may be strengthened and confirmed, and divine power and grace communicated to us, to enable us by degrees to subdue all our lusts and passions, and to resist all temp­tations, and so by often receiving this Sacrament we shall every time become less unworthy to partake of it.

There hath been a great dispute in the world whether the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper be a converting ordinance or no, as prayer and hearing of the word of God read or preached are allowed to be; and many there are that have been brought to believe, that it is a duty in­cumbent on, or rather a privilege be­longing to none but great and exempla­ry Saints, to strong and well-grounded Christians; that this Sacrament is not food proper for babes and novices, for those [Page 52]who often fail in their duty, who are still onely wrestling with their lusts, but have not yet got the mastery or victory over them; that we ought first to be ful­ly assured of our salvation before we come to this holy table, that this ordinance serves onely to strengthen and confirm our faith and repentance and all other Christian graces and vertues, but not to beget any of them in us.

Now here thus much must be granted, that this Sacrament doth belong onely to those that are within the pale of the visi­ble Church, onely to baptised Christians that do publickly own their faith and Christian profession; that it is no means of converting Jews or Infidels; and that even Christians by notorious evil lives, whereby they become scandalous to their brethren and incur the censures of the Church, may justly forfeit all their right and title to this Sacrament; and farther, that it is a bold prophanation of our Sa­viour's institution for any wicked person, resolved to continue such, to presume to bless God for that mercy and love of a Redeemer which he doth not in the least value. Thus far we are on all hands a­greed, [Page 53]but not now to engage in any matter of controversie, I shall onely say that I can see no reason why to one that is really sensible of his sins and miscarri­ages contrary to his baptismal vow and profession, and maketh some kind of re­solution to forsake them; why, I say, this Sacrament as well as prayer or any other duties of Religion may not be rec­koned as a means of begetting true re­pentance in him, of turning him from sin to righteousness, from the power of Sa­tan to God; and for this I shall offer one­ly this one plain argument which is ob­vious to every man, that if the death of Christ it self, his bitter passion, his whole gratious undertaking for us, was amongst other reasons designed by God also to convince us of the evil and dan­ger of sin, to bring us out of love with it, and to engage us to a new and better life, surely then the consideration of the same things represented to us in the Sacrament, the commemoration of his death and pas­sion there made, may also serve for the same great ends and purposes.

If Christ died that we should die unto sin, certainly then the memory of his death [Page 54]may justly be accounted a proper means of killing sin in us; nay what in the na­ture of the thing can be imagined a more likely instrument to turn us from a life of sin to the practice of holiness, than the frequent consideration of what our bles­sed Lord hath done and suffered for us? and if so, it cannot be necessary that this change should be completely wrought in us, before we ever solemnly commemo­rate his bloudy passion, for that were to suppose it necessary that the end should be obtained before we use the means.

It is not therefore absolutely necessary that we should be fully assured that we are in a state of grace, and in God's fa­vour, and have repented enough and tru­ly forsaken all our sins before we venture on this Sacrament; it is sufficient that we heartily and sincerely resolve against them, that we approach the Lord's table with honest and devout minds, that we be really willing and desirous to use all means to become better, and if thus di­sposed we come to the Sacrament, I doubt not but we shall find it a most ef­fectual means for the enabling us to leave our sins, and to lead a better life. It is [Page 55]not our unworthiness, but our resolving to continue in that state, that makes us unqualified for this Sacrament.

4. If therefore by your unworthiness you mean that you live in sin and are re­solved to doe so, and therefore dare not come to the Sacrament for fear you should farther provoke God almighty, I will suppose that in this you act prudently and warily, but then I would advise you for the same reason and on the same ac­count to leave off all other duties of Re­ligion as well as this; if you would act upon the same grounds, you ought to reckon it the safest way never to pray to God any more, nor ever again to appear in any religious assemblies, nor to join in any part of God's solemn wor­ship; for God hath often declared that he doth far more abominate all such for­mal, whining, cringing hypocrites, and will more severely punish them than the open and bold contemners of his authori­ty and laws. The prayer of the wicked man is an abomination to the Lord. He hates the addresses of those who call him father and master, and in words acknow­ledge him, but yet continually doe the [Page 56]things that are displeasing in his sight. His soul loaths and nauseates all the ser­vices of impure worshippers: You do but mock God, basely fawn upon and impu­dently flatter him, when you present your selves before him as his people and ser­vants, and yet secretly hate him and wish him out of the world; nay for the same reason for which you forbear the Sacra­ment e'en lay aside your whole Christian profession, openly renounce your Bap­tism, deny your Saviour, disown his Re­ligion, for that is the safest course whilst you resolve to continue in sin and disobe­dience; for God's wrath shall be in the first place revealed against wicked Christians, and better will it be in the last day for Tyre and Sidon, for Sodom and Gomorra, than for those who were called by Christ's name, and yet did not depart from iniquity.

If this pretence be true, that you go out of the Church when the Sacrament is to be administred, lest you should far­ther provoke God by unworthy receiving it, by the same reason keep from the Church altogether, lest you as highly provoke God by being present at those prayers you do not heartily join in, nor [Page 57]ever intend to live according to. Or ra­ther (to speak yet more fully, what is the true consequence of this) you now know your selves unworthy, and are re­solved yet, at least for some time to con­tinue such; alas! what need such as you be afraid of this Text? In this case it ought to seem indifferent to you whether you receive or not; Damnation here threatned cannot be supposed reasonably to scare him from the Sacrament, who runs the constant hazard of it by living in known sin. This can be no such ter­rible word to an habitual and resolved sinner. He that can swear and talk pro­phanely, and live intemperately and loosely, and without any fear or regret commit mortal sin, in vain pretends fear of damnation for not doing that which is indeed his duty; for it is a most odd and ridiculous thing to be afraid of doing what our Saviour hath commanded us, whilst we are not in the least afraid every day of doing what he hath forbidden us. How strange is this for men out of a dread of damnation to neglect their duty, and yet at the same time not to be afraid to live carnal and sensual lives? Never therefore let any amongst you, so long [Page 58]as you continue in your sins, plead, that you are afraid you should offend your Saviour if unworthily you eat his body and drink his bloud, and therefore dare not communicate; for your daily prac­tice confutes this pretence, whilst you notoriously break his Laws, and violate his Authority and scandalize his Reli­gion.

You pretend fear of damnation; no such matter, this is not the true reason of your abstaining from this Sacrament. You are rather afraid the Sacrament will engage you to leave those sins you have no mind as yet to part with, that it will put you upon the practice of those duties which are inconsistent with your profit, pleasure, or secular interest. You are not afraid of displeasing God, but of be­ing too strictly tied and bound to please him. You are afraid lest that solemnity should raise some scruples in your minds which you have no leisure to consider of. You would not be troubled with such a serious business; you suspect you shall not be able to sin so securely and quietly after it, as now you do.

Let not such therefore as neglect this duty, invent any such pitifull excuses, but confess plainly that they love sin and the world too much, that they prize them above the benefits purchased by Jesus Christ, that they resolve to go on in their wickedness for some longer time, and that therefore they do not come to this Sacrament. They are loth to engage themselves so solemnly to doe that, which they find in themselves no heart or will to perform. This indeed is the secret thought of many men, though indeed it is a very foolish one: for they are very much mistaken who think themselves at greater liberty to doe evil whilst they abstain from this Sacrament, for Chri­stians are engaged by receiving this Sacra­ment to no other obedience than they were before by their Baptism: it doth not so much oblige us to new duties, as en­able us to make good those obligations which our profession of Christianity hath already laid upon us.

5. And Lastly. If the receiving of this Sacrament were an indifferent rite or ce­remony, that might be done or omitted [Page 60]at pleasure, then indeed the great danger there is in receiving it unworthily might in a great measure justify our omission of it. But what if the danger be as great and the hazard equal of not receiving it at all, as of receiving it unworthily? where then is our prudence or safety, when to avoid one danger, we run into another every whit as great? when for fear of displeasing God, we disobey a plain command, and for fear of damna­tion commit a damnable sin? for I can call it no less, to live in the neglect and contempt of this holy institution.

It is not very easie to determine which is the greatest affront to God, or doth most highly provoke him, never to per­form our duty, or to perform it after a wrong manner; never to pray at all, or to be present at prayers, but not to mind or regard what we are about; never to receive this Sacrament, or to receive it often, but make no difference between what we and drink there, and what eat we do at our own houses. But how­ever, he that receives this Sacrament, al­though it be after an undue manner, seems to me to shew somewhat more re­spect to God and his commands, than [Page 61]he who wholly neglects it. And be­sides, there is hardly any wicked man that dares come to the Sacrament with­out some good thoughts and resolutions, or who is not for a little time before and after the receiving of it more carefull of himself and his actions; and though this doth not last long, but he soon returns to his former wickedness, yet however this is something better than continuing in sin and wickedness without any inter­mission or cessation. Moreover, such an one uses the best means of becoming bet­ter, which by God's grace at some time may prove effectual; whereas he that casts off all these duties is in a more des­perate and irreclaimable state.

In short, were there neither sin nor danger in omitting this Sacrament, and yet so great hazard in the receiving it unworthily, prudence and interest might engage us to chuse the safest side, and not to meddle with it at all; but if we expose our selves as certainly to God's anger and displeasure by wholly neglec­ting this duty, as by performing it un­duly, then these words of the Apostle can be no pretence or excuse for our ab­staining [Page 62]from this Communion. For would not this be an odd way of arguing? because intemperate eating and drinking is very prejudicial to our health, and of­ten breeds mortal diseases, therefore 'tis better never to eat or drink at all? would it not be madness, lest we should kill our selves by a surfeit, to resolve to starve our selves by obstinate fasting?

And this shall bring me to the fourth and last thing I propounded to discourse of; which was

IV. To shew what is the onely true and just consequence which can be drawn from what is here affirmed by the Apostle, He that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh damna­tion to himself, which is this: that foras­much as our Saviour hath plainly com­manded all his Followers and Disciples, to doe this in remembrance of him; and yet on the other side, there is so great danger in doing it unworthily, that we should neither omit the duty (for that would be a plain transgression of our Sa­viour's command) nor yet be careless in the performance of it.

And this is the inference which the Apostle himself makes, not that the Co­rinthians, whom he blames so much for their unworthy receiving this Sacrament, should therefore forbear coming to it any more at all, but for the future they should examine themselves, and partake of it with greater reverence and devotion than they had used to do. Let the danger of re­ceiving unworthily be never so great, the consideration of this ought onely to make us so much the more carefull to receive it after a right and acceptable manner, and to put us upon greater watchfulness over our selves when we meddle with such sacred things. This is the use we ought to make of these words of the Apo­stle, not rashly or precipitantly without due preparation or consideration to rush upon this holy Sacrament, but seriously to mind the end and design of it, and so duely to affect our spirits with the things represented to us by it, that they may make lively and lasting impressions upon us, and we may bring forth the fruit of all in a holy and unblamable conversa­tion in the world.

To end all, I would not have any thing I have now said upon this subject to you, so interpreted or understood, as in the least to take away from the reve­rence you have of this institution, or to lessen that awe and dread you have of re­ceiving it unworthily. Onely I would not have men afraid of, or scruple doing their duty. There is preparation and good disposition of mind required for prayer and the right performance of o­ther religious duties, as well as this of the Sacrament.

We ought therefore to be afraid of these three things.

1. Of neglecting to receive this Sacra­ment, for that is to live in disobedience to a plain command of our Saviour.

2. Of receiving it unworthily without reverence or attention to the meaning of it, without hearty repentance and sincere resolution of amendment, for that is to affront and prophane our Saviour's most excellent institution.

3. Of turning to your evil courses af­ter receiving it: for then your having ta­ken this Sacrament will be a great aggra­vation both of your sin and condemna­tion.

IN Scripture we often find that the evil Spirits are represented as Tempters, going to and fro in the earth, and walking up and down in it, seeking whom they may devour; and to that end as fur­nished [Page 68]with all manner of wiles and de­vices, by which they may ensnare and deceive Mankind. They would not be unhappy alone, and therefore bend all their study and cunning to involve Men in the same ruine they have plunged themselves into.

Yet these are not our onely Enemies, whom we are to watch against or resist. There are many in our own shape, who though their Feet are not cloven, yet drive on the same design, and are the Devil's Agents, and use their wit and parts to set up his Kingdom in the World, by enticing Men to, and pleading for Sin and Irreligion. And this they doe just for the same ill-natured reason; namely, to make others as bad as themselves, that they may be also as miserable; that this may a little comfort them against the gnawing fears of future punishments, that if they should chance to befall them, as is threatned, yet they have made sure of company enough.

And this may afford us one Conside­ration of no little force to secure us a­gainst the solicitations of Sinners, that [Page 69]though they may pretend to great love and kindness, and tell us of the excellen­cy and bravery of being wicked, and un­dertake to answer all the scruples and coyness of our Consciences; yet the bot­tom of all is onely to engage us in the perills and dangerous adventures they have run themselves into: They cannot endure to think that if the great Doctrines of Religion should at last prove true, a­ny should be likely to fare better in the other state than themselves; they hope either by their number to bear down God Almighty to pity and pardon, or at least that when they are so many, they shall help one another more chearfully to suf­fer the worst that can happen to them.

But now would we count it reasona­ble for a Man to persuade us to be sick with him? or because he hath undone himself and is lost and ruin'd, that we should therefore bring our selves into the same circumstances and condition? In our temporal affairs we are not thus easie and flexible, nor can Men in their wits by any means be prevailed upon to ha­zard their lives and fortunes for the gra­tifying the vain humour of any desperate [Page 70]person, who hath forfeited his own; and why then should we be so foolishly soft as to part with all that can be called tru­ly good, and venture our everlasting con­cernments and immortal Souls onely to bear those company who are resolved to be damned? Wherefore of old in all pla­ces where civility and good manners have obtained, such as have taken up that vile trade of debauching others, and enticing them to sin, have been always branded with marks of infamy, and accounted and dealt with, as the very pests and publick enemies of mankind.

But I suppose there is not much need of convincing you, that it is your interest to follow this advice of the wise man. Every one will readily grant that it is good and wholesome counsel, not to consent to the enticings of evil and wick­ed men; the onely difficulty is in the practising of it, especially in a time when sin is not onely grown into fashion, but into very great reputation.

It would be well if the sad complaints of the hideous degeneracy and profane­ness of this present age were as unjust as [Page 71]they are frequent; it is the humour of too many to admire and commend all the persons that lived, and every thing that was done before they were born, whilst they please themselves in nothing more than in continually lamenting and bemoaning the sins and misfortunes of their own days. And whatever times such had lived in, 'tis like they would have pickt out matter of discontent, ha­ving no better way of shewing their own wisedom or goodness than by finding fault with others. But however thus much is certain, that since the World is always so throng'd and thickly beset with wicked men (and we have no reason to doubt but that we at this time have our share of them amongst us) since the best of us all are so apt to be misled, surpri­zed or betrayed into sin, we have great need, if we would preserve our inno­cence, to fortifie our minds with all such considerations as may help us to with­stand the restless allurements and subtile enticing of those, who not onely them­selves doe things that are evil, but rejoice in making others doe the same.

I shall at this time discourse onely of these two ways by which those that en­tice men to vitious practices ordinarily prevail with them, viz. either by their example, or else by arguing for and ex­cusing of sin, and shall endeavour to make out how unreasonable it is to be moved by either of them.

I. Consent not when you are enticed to sin by bad examples. He that is tempted one­ly by his own wicked self, and drawn away with his own lusts, doubts oftentimes and is afraid, and sometimes repents and forbears; but when his own inward pro­pensions and inclinations are seconded and back'd with bad examples, especial­ly if they are numerous and given by men of authority, interest and name in the World; when by them he is encou­raged and urged to that which of himself he had no little mind to; then doth Vice become strong and triumphant, the temptation is then at the full height, and it is hard for a Man to stand it out. When thus there is a confederacy and combination of sinners, when wickedness joins, as it were, hand to hand, and draws [Page 73]it self into leagues, when the road is smoothed and the passage made broad and plain by the tramplings of others before us, then we are in great danger either of being hurried on in the Crowd or else of being by degrees inveigled to venture our selves with those to whom we cannot but think we do owe a great regard. Vice then becomes popular and creditable, and he that startles at the commission of any Sin when he is alone, shall make no stop or scruple when he hath the invitation and approbation of so many; for he sins now by consent and sympathy, and hath the opinion of others to vouch him; when Conscience accu­seth, or vertuous men reprove him, he hath his authorities ready to produce for his wickedness, and can quote others to justifie his debaucheries.

Sin is infectious, and when it once gets head, and men dare be openly prophane, it spreads like a contagious disease; and though for some time we should keep our selves untainted, yet by degrees we shall be apt to lose that averseness and abhorrence we had of it; it will not seem so strange and dismal a thing to us, it [Page 74]will become more familiar, and then we shall proceed to wish our selves free that we might also doe the same; to long and hancker after a greater liberty, to think our selves too hard tied up, and then the next step is running with others into the like excess of riot. The sense and apprehension we have of any danger cannot but be much abated when we see the greatest part of men continually to outbrave, and daringly to defie it, and it is hard to retain a just value for good­ness when it is despised and contemned by those who are famed for their wit and prudence in other things.

But though by experience we find that examples do thus strongly influence men, yet that they should doe so, reason there is none: for what can argue greater stu­pidity and unmanliness than at a venture to take every thing for better for worse, and to go on onely for company sake, and leave all matters, though we are ne­ver so deeply concerned in them, to be judged of onely by others? What doth reason or understanding advantage him who lives wholly by precedent, and is always what others please to make him?

‘But alas! it is very tedious and troublesome for a man to examine his own ways, and ask himself a reason of every step he takes. It would cost too much time and pains to be wary and thoughtfull, and consider always what ought to be spoken or done next; this is a dull and methodical way of living: but to be always poised, to be indiffe­rent to every thing, to wait the next tide, and to follow the next hint, this is gay, and free, and easie.’ But be it as easie as it will, it is nevertheless no other than the life of Beasts who herd together, and follow one another, and love to be in the same track.

But more particularly; men are led by examples, and tempted to doe as the most doe, chiefly on one of these accounts, ei­ther that they may not be thought sin­gular, or which is worse rude and unci­vil, or else that they may avoid scoffs and reproaches.

1. To avoid the imputation of singu­larity: and this indeed must necessarily be laid to the charge of good and vertu­ous [Page 76]men, so long as the greatest part of the World is wicked and sensual: But then it is to be considered that it is such a singularity as is most honourable, and re­dounds the more to our credit, by how much the fewer are of our side. 'Tis true, to affect singularity in any indifferent or trivial matter is unbecoming and ridicu­lous; but Men were never afraid of be­ing singular in any excellency: and though Religion and innocence may not always meet with that esteem, which is due to them, yet it is strange that any one should ever think them scandalous.

If this cast any disparagement upon piety and vertue, that there are but few in the World that heartily regard them, it does equally on all things that are ex­traordinary and really praise-worthy. Are men ashamed of being counted sin­gular in any knowledge or wisedom, in any skill or trade? and why should it be otherwise in the instance of true good­ness, the highest perfection our natures are capable of? are not great honours and estates as liable to this exception, since there are but few that can deserve the one or acquire the other? and yet [Page 77]men rather vaunt and glory in such things as these, which distinguish them from the vulgar rout, and usually reckon those the most desirable accomplishments which few are masters of; why then should this prejudice men against Religion, that the greatest part of the World are fools, and are contented to be miserable?

2. We must follow, say they, the ex­amples of others, and doe as the most doe, or else we shall be counted rude and uncivil; we shall be thought ill-manner'd and to want fashionable breeding. And this alone hath so far prevailed in the World, that I doubt not but there are many who make themselves seem to be worse than really they are, and boast of sins which they never durst commit, onely that they may not be without this mark and character of Gentility; who hypocritically dissemble wickedness, that they may gain the name and reputation of Gentlemen, and may not be thought precise or godly.

But surely it is a sign of a mean, low and base spirit, and doth not suit with that braveness and gallantry of mind, [Page 78]which is or ought to be in all Gentle­men, to suffer themselves thus to be usurped upon, and so tamely to submit to mere wicked customes; and instead of all those good qualities and dispositions and vertuous actions to which their Fore­fathers owed their good names and great titles, to value themselves or others upon the account of such vices, as in former times were found onely in Clowns and Beggars.

This indeed is the proof of a very wicked and degenerate age, and a noto­rious sign that irreligion appears with a very bold face, when it is accounted a piece of bad manners and becoming one­ly those of a mean rank to own a reve­rence for that Sovereign Majesty who made us all, and a due respect to those Laws, which not so much his power and dominion over us, as our own interest and self-love do oblige us to observe; when we shall be called rude unless, be­sides the hopes of eternal happiness, we foolishly hazard the loss of our health, peace, and every thing else that is tru­ly valuable for a momentany satisfaction merely out of compliance with our com­pany; [Page 79]when to be able to walk, stand, or speak sense, shall be thought an inde­cent thing, an uncivil trick put upon those whom we either chanc'd or were forced to converse with; to name no more, when it shall be esteemed less dis­honourable to be a murtherer than to for­give some petty injury, or put up any small affront. We should therefore in this case say as David did when he dan­ced before the Ark of the Lord, and was derided for it, If this be vile, I will yet be more vile than thus. If meekness and patience, chastity and temperance, the fear of God and true Religion be uncivil and ungentile, we will yet be more un­civil and ungentile; and I should as soon be persuaded that it was rude and clow­nish not to pledge one who drank to me in rank poyson, as that it is any sign of want of good breeding and gentile ac­complishments, to be wiser and more sober than the rest of the World.

3. Lastly, Men are tempted to com­ply with bad examples and follow the multitude, that they may avoid scoffs and reproaches, and not expose them­selves to the laughter and drollery of [Page 80]those who think every thing wit that is impudent or prophane. But this surely is so little and inconsiderable that it de­serves not to be named with the least of those inconveniences which attend a wicked life; for what hurt can it be to us to have those speak ill of us, whose very commendation and good word would be our greatest scandal and re­proach? and shall we to escape their ir­religious scoffs and foolish jests, justly merit the reproof of all wise men, and make our selves liable to the censure of those whose opinion and judgment alone ought to be regarded?

Were we but once throughly convin­ced of the truth and excellency of that Religion we are baptized into, how hap­py it would make us in this life, and what great things it assures us of in the future, no flouts nor railleries would any more be able to shake our purposes of good li­ving, than they are to persuade a rich man out of his estate and large pos­sessions.

But farther, the best way to preserve our reputation, even amongst wicked [Page 81]men, is to be true to those principles which we have first espoused; for let men say what they will, they have a se­cret respect and veneration for all those whose goodness is exemplary and con­spicuous (which appears sufficiently by their envying and snarling at them) and they inwardly scorn none more than those whom they know to be guilty of those vi­ces which yet they themselves tempted them to, and he that will be drunk him­self will yet be sure to laugh at another whom he sees in that condition.

But let us suppose the worst, what is it that they can say of us? onely that we are nice, and squeamish, and curious; that we have not yet learned to live at random, nor perfectly subdued our Con­sciences; that we weigh and consider our actions, and use our reasons and under­standings, and believe we were born into the World for some higher ends than plea­sing our senses, and gratifying our appe­tites; that we are not indifferent to health and sickness, peace and disquiet, life and death; that we think there is somewhat in the World besides what we daily see; that we provide for a State [Page 82]which we may very soon enter upon, and trouble our selves with thoughts of what will become of us after we are dead, and the like: but if this be all, we ought to pray to God that we may constantly live under such ignominy and die under the disgrace.

To what I have already said on this subject, I shall onely add, that if bad ex­amples even against our reason and inte­rest do so far prevail with Men to their ut­ter undoing, what mighty power and in­fluence would good examples have, enfor­ced with all the arguments for and ad­vantages of Religion? what an age of vertue, and quiet, and happiness should we enjoy, if Men of dignity and re­nown, of parts and understanding, of birth and fortune, would freely and con­spicuously offer themselves to the World for patterns of life and conversation? thus they might entice others to be good, and soon retrieve the honour of our Reli­gion, and bring it again into credit and repute. Were such Mens lives as good and holy as their profession is, sinners would soon be put out of Countenance, and be ashamed to appear in the World, [Page 83]their party would be made inconsidera­ble, and they would have but little power to draw others over to their side: for there is not a more winning and ta­king sight in the World, than the life of a Christian led exactly according to the prescripts of his Religion. And were there not in all ages some such persons of authority and fame, whose zeal for Religion inspires them with so much courage, as that they are neither asha­med nor afraid of being honest and in­nocent, whatever the mad World may say or think of them for it (I say, were it not for such) we should soon lose not onely the power but even the form of Godliness too. And God onely knows how many daily make shipwrack of their Consciences, onely because they have not spirit enough to endure to be out of the mode and fashion.

II. But I hasten to the second thing propounded, which was to shew how unreasonable it is to be enticed to sin, by such as argue for it, and would endea­vour to excuse it, for there are many that are not altogether thus easie and com­plaisant, as to follow merely for compa­ny, [Page 84]nor so lazy as to take up every thing on trust, but they are men of prudence and discretion, who desire first to be sa­tisfied whether what they are inticed to be prudent and safe; they like a wicked life well enough, could they be but fur­nished with some small reasons and argu­ments for it, by which they might justi­fy their choice and stop the mouths of their Consciences. I shall just mention these four ways whereby sinners ordina­rily entice such as these to join with them, either 1. by representing the pleasures; or 2. by propounding the temporal ad­vantages which attend sin; or else 3. by speaking slightly of the evil of it; or last­ly, by persuading them that there is no danger in it.

1. Men entice others to sin by pro­pounding to them the pleasures that are to be found in a loose and wicked life. ‘They tell them that the laws of Reli­gion are fitted onely for the dull and Phlegmatick, unactive and Hypocon­driack, who grudge at others enjoying those delights which themselves are not capable of; that Nature designed we should freely use whatever she hath [Page 85]provided for our entertainment here, and was not so unkind as perpetually to torment us with the sight and pre­sence of such things as we are not per­mitted to taste nor touch; that heaven indeed is the Lord's and he dwells there, and doeth what pleaseth him best, but that the earth by his grant and permission is ours, and who shall inter­rupt or disturb us? that God hath left this lower World to us to take our pa­stime therein, and that that man makes the best use of it, who improves it most to serve his own pleasures; that to live honestly, scrupulously and vertuously is to be buried whilst we are alive; and that to order all our actions accor­ding to stinted rules and precepts, be­longs onely to slaves and those who are of a servile disposition; but what greater pleasure, say they, than to be ungovernable and uncontrollable, to satisfy every appetite with its proper object, to deny our selves nothing that our lusts or passions crave, in every thing to gratifie our own humour and fancy, and to trouble our heads with nothing, unless it be to find out new delights and surprizing extravagancies?’

But what are all these now other than the vain conceits of mad Men, who du­ring their phrenzy do many times think themselves the wisest, greatest and ri­chest Men in the World, and take as much delight in such idle dreams as o­thers do in real enjoyments? but this pleasure lasts no longer than till they re­cover the use of their understandings, and therefore in this case we are not to give credit to what wicked Men say, nor judge of the pleasure and content of their lives by what outwardly appears. Even in laughter the heart is sorrowfull, saith Salomon; and it is very possible for one who seems to spend all his days in mirth and jollity yet really to be in a very un­easie condition all the while; which ap­pears from this, that such as are sensual and licentious find it best to keep them­selves in a continual hurry and heat, and as soon as they are tired with one sin, presently to betake themselves to some o­ther, for fear they should unhappily light upon a Bible or a sober thought: for this reason it is that they hate nothing so much as to be alone, and be forced to converse with themselves, and that if they chance to fall into any affliction or [Page 87]calamity they are the most dejected and disconsolate persons in the World; all these are certain signs that they are haun­ted with dreadfull and ghastly apprehen­sions and jealousies, which will ever and anon be crouding in, and sometimes even when they are taking their fill of pleasures.

But on the other side, Religion denies us no pleasures which are manly and sui­table to our natures, and forbids us onely such excesses as in themselves are both te­dious and nauseous; and layeth the foun­dation of that solid peace and joy, which no external thing whatever is able to shake or discompose.

In short, if to be carried away with every vanity and whimsie, to be swayed by every unreasonable humour and lust, to be a slave to every Man's frolick and beck; to try the utmost strength of our bodies, to run a course of all diseases, to undergoe all reproach and infamy, to spend our estates and time in pursuit of short life, rotten bones, and wretched poverty; if this be pleasure, then for certain there is enough of it to be found in a dissolute and vitious life.

2. With such as are not altogether so fool-hardy, and but a little better hus­bands of their health and estates, this kind of Philosophy will not take at all, but if you would get them into a good opinion of wickedness, it must be by propounding to them some temporal ad­vantage. Vertue or vice is very indif­ferent to such, but what they can save or get most by, is always the best. Pro­fit and gain do strangely mollifie sin, and take away much from the odiousness and ugliness of it; it shall be the most just and equitable thing in the World, if it can help us to raise a new family or re­cover one that is decayed; if it may serve to maintain our selves or relations, if by it we may oblige and obtain the favour of any great men, who will be so con­descending as to admit us into a society with them, though it be onely in their vices: for men are in the worst instances ready to please and humour those they hope to get something from, or upon whom they depend.

But to this I shall reply nothing, but onely ask our Saviour's question, What [Page 89]shall it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose his own soul, or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul? If we sell our integrity and hopes of future happi­ness onely to get a little of this world, we make a foolish bargain. And I hope I need say no more in this place, since those onely who are made of the basest and coursest metal, and are of poor and degenerous spirits, are capable of being ensnared by this temptation.

3. Another way men have of enticing others to sin is by assuring them, that there is no such great evil in it as is com­monly believed; ‘That when once we have conquered our fear of sinning, we have seen the worst of it; that the evil of sin lies most in a little scandal, that is cast upon it by some doting Philoso­phers, or melancholy Enthusiasts, or some covetous Usurers, who will not be at the expence of it, or by those who receive tythes to declaim against it; that the nature of good and evil hath been always matter of dispute, and there is hardly any vice but what hath been not onely approved but re­warded by some whole Nation or o­ther; [Page 90]that at the best Religion is one­ly the politick contrivance of some wise Governours who knew how to manage and make advantage of the simplicity and credulity of ignorant people: but that all things are in their own natures indifferent.’

Now is it not strange that men should ever be persuaded, that it is as good to kill as to obey ones Parents? that we de­serve as much commendation when we repay kindnesses with ill-will and inju­ries, as when we relieve those that are in necessity? that cruelty, treachery and malice are as amiable in themselves, and as innocent dispositions, as mercifulness, fidelity and good nature? and why may we not as well believe that wisedom is to be found onely in Bedlam, and that all that hath been ever spoken or done by men, hitherto counted in their wits, hath been indeed onely the effect of madness and distemper'd brains? though some politick men, for notable ends, have cunningly made common people for this great while to imagine quite o­therwise. But I forbear.

4. And Lastly; That which prevails most powerfully is to persuade men that there is no great danger in sin. ‘Some sins may indeed prove inconvenient, but the pleasure recompenseth that; some may be of ill report, but the pro­fit will pay off that score; and if sin should chance to have any evil in it, what's that to us when we are dead? the onely fear is of an after-reckoning.’ And therefore do they who would fain sin without controll, especially labour that they may free themselves and others from all suspicions of a future state; ra­king up every trifling objection that hath been of old used by any of the Atheisti­cal Philosophers, and hath been a thou­sand times answered; and inventing new ones as far as their wit serves them. But if after all there still remain any doubts concerning another life, then they plead how little we know or understand of it, or how absurd it is to think that a man shall be for ever punished for what he did by mistake or surprize, or strength of pas­sion or height of bloud, or good nature or civility, or to save his life, or to main­tain his reputation, family, or the like.

But will nothing convince men of the certainty of future punishments but their feeling of them? or do they think that God hath as little regard for those Laws which he hath made, and by which he will govern and judge the world, as wic­ked men themselves have? but should we grant all that can be asked in this case, and suppose it very doubtfull whether our souls are immortal, (and surely no man will pretend to prove it impossible that they should be so) nay should we sup­pose it great odds that there is not a future state; yet that man doth ne­vertheless most notoriously betray his want of prudence and discretion, who will not contradict his own brutish incli­nations, and deny himself some short pleasures, and chuse that course of life which our reason no less than our Religi­on doth recommend to us, rather than run the least hazard (though it were of an hundred to one) of being for ever mi­serable. And thus much concerning be­ing enticed to wicked practices.

And now I might discourse at large of another sort of enticing, which is to er­roneous [Page 93]and pernicious doctrines, and of such as go about to inveigle and cor­rupt our judgments, and debauch our understandings by seducing us to the be­lief of opinions no less wicked than false; But I shall at present onely crave leave briefly to shew

1. What danger men are in of being seduced by such temptations.

2. What is our best armour and secu­rity against them.

1. What danger we are in of being en­ticed from that profession and belief which is publickly taught and own'd a­mongst us: which danger arises partly from the earnestness, importunity, or the arts that subtile men use to bring us off; but most especially from the doc­trines themselves which they would learn us, and instill into us, which are such as are most pleasing and gratefull to one who delights in his sins; such as cannot but be most acceptable to him, as giving him hopes of heaven, though he deny himself very little for it; such as lay the grounds and foundations of sinning chear­fully [Page 94]without any fear or remorse; and therefore as long as the greatest part of the world love vice and ease, will succeed and be greedily entertained.

It is no hard matter to persuade men to believe, what they before-hand wish were true; and there needs no great store of proof or arguments to recom­mend those opinions to the sensual and prophane, which give them leave to ful­fill their lusts without any regret of con­science or dread of punishment. Is it not a comfortable doctrine, and will it not be readily embraced by every resolved sinner, that after a long wicked life, at the last gasp a bare sorrow for sin out of fear of hell, with the Priest's absolution, shall at least free him from eternal pains, and take away the guilt of his sins, so that he need not be afraid of any thing besides a sudden death, which happens but seldom? When he is at any time di­sturbed with the sense of his dangerous condition, when the forced remembrance of his sins doth gall and fret his mind, and fill him with fears and melancholy thoughts, what a relief must it needs be to him, to be assured that it is but going [Page 95]to a Priest, and confessing his sins, and undergoing some small penances, and he is safe? for then he may go on in his full carriere with the greatest security imagi­nable, then he may sin with judgment, and commit all manner of wickedness with discretion.

He who hath no mind to part with his lusts is easily persuaded that they are invincible; nor is it very difficult to make him, who is loth to take any pains or be at any trouble for keeping of Christ's commands, to believe that they are im­possible to be kept, and that our Saviour fulfilled even his own law in our stead, and that we have nothing to doe but to believe that he hath done all and be thankfull.

In a word, where the obscurity of Scripture, or the difficulty of the mat­ter, or the weakness of our understan­dings have caused one to mistake; mul­titudes have been drawn aside to the most pernicious errours by their lusts and secular interests, and carnal designs, and love to gain, sloth or sensuality, and by this chiefly are the several dissenting par­ties [Page 96]amongst us maintained, and do en­crease their numbers, to wit, by level­ling the doctrine of Christianity to mens corrupt inclinations and passions, whilst we of the Church of England dare not be so false either to our own trust or the souls of men, as to give them hopes of e­verlasting bliss on any other condition but that of living godlily, righteously and soberly in this present world; from all which follows,

2. That our security against such temptations doth not consist in much reading and great learning, in our skill in controversies, or cunning in mana­ging a dispute, or ability of discerning between good argument and sophistry, so much as in an honest mind and hum­ble heart, an unfeigned desire of knowing, and sincere endeavour of doing the will of God. Him who is thus minded, God by his infinite goodness is ingaged not to suffer to fall into any errour of mischie­vous effect; and as for other mistakes wherein a good life is not concerned, God is ready to overlook and pardon what is the result onely of the imperfec­tion of our present state, besides which, [Page 97]honesty of mind, or love to vertue, is in it self and its own nature our best pre­servative against being infected with any bad opinions.

I am far from taking upon me to judge or condemn those that were born and bred up, and have lived well under any forms of Religion different from what is established amongst us (for it is very possible for men to hold opinions very wicked, and yet not perceiving nor ac­knowledging the just consequences of them to live very good lives) yet this is true, that one that designs nothing so much as pleasing God and saving his soul, and is willing to take any pains for it, and hath no by-ends to serve, will not desire to be excused from the mortifica­tion of his lusts, subduing his appetites, crucifying his flesh, and from the seve­rities of an holy life, by substituting in the room of them pilgrimages, vain ob­lations, bodily austerities, or such for­mal devotions as very bad men may per­form and be very bad still. Those prin­ciples which most advance the honour of God by laying the strictest obligati­ons on men to all manner of goodness he [Page 98]will hearken to and readily believe; but if they serve the ends of avarice or am­bition, if they are apt to make men dis­solute or licentious, lazie or presumptu­ous; this alone to such an one will be reason sufficient utterly to reject them, let them be propounded to him with ne­ver so much advantage or subtilty.

I shall conclude all with this, that did I know any constituted Church in the world, that did teach a Religion more holy and usefull, that delivered doctrines in themselves more reasonable, or in their consequences tending more directly to the peace of Societies and the good of e­very particular person, to the promoting of piety and true morality, and the dis­countenancing of sin and vice; that did give more forcible arguments for the one and against the other; that did lay grea­ter stress upon a pure mind and a blame­less life, and less upon voluntary strict­nesses and indifferent rites and ceremonies than we do, I would very soon be of that Church, and even entice all I could to it: but till such an one can be found, nay so long as it is manifest that all the zealous opposers of the Church of England do hold [Page 99]opinions either destructive of or in their plain tendencies weakening the force of all the precepts, promises and threatnings contained in the Gospel, and such as if they do not encourage men to, yet at least furnish them with pleas and excuses for their wickedness; I am sure it is our in­terest no less than our duty, if we sin­cerely love God and our souls, and have any real desire of our own or others wel­fare, faithfully to adhere to that Church we have the happiness to be members of, and vigorously to maintain and defend it.

THERE is hardly any vice that men do so readily condemn in others, and yet so easily over­look and excuse in themselves, as this of self-conceit, or a fond opinion of their own great wisedom and understanding. None of us can endure that another should assume to himself continually to prescribe [Page 102]to us, or usurp so far upon us, as to be always imposing on us his own private customs, humours or manners, as if we had no wit or judgment of our own whereby to govern and order our own affairs; and yet it is to be feared, most of us, who call this intolerable pride in another, are so deeply in love with our selves and our own ways, that we can­not forbear to censure and despise, to charge with folly and ignorance, all that do not believe and practise just as we our selves do: Every one thus in his own vain imagination presuming himself wise and good enough to set a pattern and give law to all round about him.

It is the observation of the great French Philosopher, That the most equal distribution God hath made of any thing in this world is of judgment and understan­ding, because every man is content with his own, and thinks he hath enough: and though as to the outward gifts of nature or fortune he be willing to yield to o­thers, yet he doubts not but he himself is as far removed from a fool, hath as large a share of reason and discretion, is as able to manage himself and his own [Page 103]business as any other whatever. Whence it is that all men are apt so confidently to lean unto, and rely upon their own un­derstandings, so peremptorily to trust to and follow their own judgments, so re­solutely and inflexibly to adhere to their first choices and determinations, scor­ning and taking it in great snuff and dudgeon, to be taught, advised, check'd or controlled by any.

Now this is to be wise in our own con­ceits, against which the Apostle here in my Text cautions us; when any man hath a vast and undue opinion of his own powers and faculties, and thinks of him­self above what is meet, when he will hearken to none other, nor believe any one but just himself; when he knows all things, does all things, is all things to himself, and within himself alone, not needing (at least in his own big thoughts) any ones help, counsel or assistence; In short, when he rates and values himself above his true worth, and despises others, and judges meanly of his Betters, then a man may be said to be wise in his own conceit. Which self-conceit undoub­tedly lies at the bottom, and is the ori­ginal [Page 104]cause of all Atheism and sceptical disputes against Providence and Religion, of all undutifull carriage towards gover­nours and superiours, and of all those un­charitable separations and unchristian di­visions that are so rife amongst us, and do so sadly threaten the ruine both of our Church and State.

Whereas on the other side, the great foundation of all true Religion and civil order, the onely effectual means of pro­curing and advancing peace, real wise­dom and truth amongst men, is an hum­ble and lowly esteem of our selves, a mo­dest diffidence of our own apprehensions, an hearty and serious acknowledgment of our own defects, and a willingness to be instructed, directed, ruled and governed by others who are better and wiser than our selves.

I shall at this time propound to you some plain instances, wherein this sort of pride or self-conceit doth shew it self, particularly in matters of Religion, toge­ther with the folly and mischiefs of it.

I. This self-conceit shews it self in be­ing confident and positive about things which we do not understand, and in in­termedling with affairs which do not be­long to us.

II. In being obstinate and pertinacious in some singular fancies and opinions, though upon never so slight grounds at first believed and entertained.

III. In affecting to impose our own hu­mours and conceits upon others, and in despising and condemning all that are not in every thing just of our own mind and persuasion.

I. This self-conceit appears in being confident and positive about things which we do not understand, and in intermed­ling with affairs which do not belong to us. When we reject every thing as false which we cannot presently comprehend, and damn every thing, of which we can­not easily give a satisfactory account; when we speak evil of those things which we know not, as St. Jude says of some in his days; when nothing shall escape us [Page 106]which we do not streight arraign and bring to the bar, nor any thing pass with us for wise, good or decent, but what is exact­ly fitted to our own palate, and suited to our raw and unwary notions of things: when we measure and judge of the na­ture of God, the counsels of heaven, the methods of Providence, the constitutions of our governours, the doctrines of our approved teachers, the reasonableness of publick laws, the designs and underta­kings of other men, truth and falshood, good and evil onely according to the a­greement or disagreement of things with our private fancies, childish prejudices and rash judgments. But more particularly.

1. Hence it is that men are apt to quarrel with God and Religion, and en­deavour either to dispute or rally them out of the world. Into this one principle, I think, may be resolved the most consi­derable, (if any such there be) nay al­most all the objections that ever were framed against the existence of a God, and the truth and certainty of Religion, viz. that there are many things com­monly taught and believed, which some pert young sinners cannot by any means [Page 107]understand, and therefore all of it must presently be false.

They cannot possibly frame a notion of a spirit or immaterial substance. Eve­ry thing they think of is clothed with corporeal accidents; they cannot con­ceive an infinite Being, nor solve all the difficulties about eternity, omnipresence, omniscience, and the like; and there­fore the whole Idea of an invisible power, as one of the most conceited men in our Nation says, is feigned onely by the mind, or imagined from tales publickly allowed of. The Resurrection seems a very unlikely and improbable story. How can these things be? It is past their finding out why God did not send Christ sooner into the world, if there be no salvation to be had without him. It seemeth to them very absurd and unworthy that the Son of God should appear here in so mean a condition, and dye so shamefull a death. They understand not the reason of some of God's Laws, and think they them­selves could make better. They con­clude the parts of this visible world might have been much more conveni­ently ordered and contrived than now [Page 108]they appear to be, if all were managed and conducted by an infinite power and wisedom: and thus rather than in any case doubt or suspect their own want of understanding, they turn Atheists or Scepticks, and renounce the most cer­tain and plainest truths. God shall not be at all, unless he please to be and doe just as his creatures would have him. These now are the persons that conceit themselves the onely men of parts and deep reach, who will not be born down by a popular faith, who search and dive into the very bottom of things, and have alone happily smelt out that grand cheat and juggle with which the rest of man­kind hath been so long abused.

I know not one objection or doubt a­gainst the being of a Deity and Provi­dence but what is thus raised onely by pride, and an arrogant opinion of our own understanding, as if nothing could be either true or reasonable, but what is perfectly within our own ken and cognisance. If such conceited and haugh­ty persons cannot apprehend the useful­ness of any part of the creation; if any thing happens in the world that seems to [Page 109]them confused and disordered, if their wisedoms cannot discern the end, bene­fit and design of every thing that falls out, presently they either charge God with folly and ill contrivance, or banish him out of the world, and impute all to blind fortune or inexorable destiny. Whereas indeed it is onely their own ig­norance they ought to accuse, and others may perchance comprehend what they cavil at; nay they themselves may possi­bly arrive to the complete knowledge of that hereafter, which now seems so my­sterious to them.

Let us but suppose God infinitely wiser than we poor mortals are or can be, and that he may doe and order many things for good and great reasons, which yet we who can see but a little way, and con­sider but of a few things at once, are not able as yet to grasp or find out: Let us, I say, but suppose our understandings in this state imperfect and limited, and ca­pable of far greater improvement in ano­ther, and all these scruples of the Atheist presently vanish into nothing. Thus you may observe with my Lord Bacon that no great proficients in Philosophy who have [Page 110]really improved their minds and reasons, have ever been Atheists; but such onely as have had a little smattering of it, and being puft up with a small pittance of knowledge, became presently ready to conclude they understood all things; and being wise in their own conceits, did therefore huff against every thing they were not able to render a reason of. And if you consult the experience of these days you will find those onely to swagger and hector against Religion who have a lofty opinion of their own learning and parts, begot and maintained by a slight and superficial skill in Philosophy, by a little dabling in the Mathematicks and Mechanicks, and a small share of wit and drollery, enough to render them­selves the scorn and compassion of all tru­ly wise and good men; but who art thou, O vain man, that thus exaltest thy self against God, and settest up thy puisne wit and understanding in competition with his eternal reason?

'Tis strange that when men find them­selves at a loss, and utterly to seek about the nature of things visible and sensible, about the ordinary appearances of this [Page 111]world; when it is easie for a man but of little parts to raise such a mist about the plainest truths, and invent such difficul­ties and objections as shall puzzle the sa­gest Philosophers handsomly to solve and unriddle; when men do and must believe several things, the causes of which they can onely guess at, nor can ever be cer­tain they are in the right; when a Load­stone's drawing of iron, the ebbing and flowing of the Sea, the striking fire out of a Flint, shall find mens wits employ­ment enough, nor shall they ever be able perfectly to satisfy themselves or others about them; when they are forced in such things as they see daily before their eyes to confess their ignorance, and the uncertainty of all their reasonings: that yet, I say, when they come to discourse of such things as are plainly above their reach and capacity, being invisible and infinite, they will believe nothing but what they can fully comprehend, and count all that absurd which they cannot satisfactorily explain. This is the first particular instance of that sort of self-con­ceit which consists in medling with things we do not understand, nor do belong to us.

2. Then also we meddle with things we do not understand, and which do not belong to us, when we take upon our selves to give peremptory accounts of God's providential dealings with the sons of men, when without controll we pass our rash verdicts upon God's Actions, and sit in judgment upon the various oc­currences of this world, accusing and ar­raigning God of arbitrary tyrannical go­vernment, if every thing happen not ac­cording to our minds, as we had before­hand wished or projected; if those we love much thrive not so well, or if our enemies prosper more, and grow greater in this world than we would have them; when we offer to prescribe to Providence, and teach God how he should rule the world, and dispose of his favours. When we dare clamour and mutiny at God's proceedings, imagining that he hath not done well, or that we our selves could have done better; that if the Govern­ment of mankind were but committed to our care, (as the Chariot of the Sun is said once to have been to Phaethon) we could order and determine things more wisely and equally, and to better advan­tage.

This is a most notorious piece of arro­gance thus saucily to affix senses and meanings on God's providences where he has given us no rule to judge by; and to interpret them according as our own in­terest, prejudice, passion, or some other vice doth sway us; to bring arguments for any way or sect from temporal suc­cesses, or to condemn any who differ from us by reason of some calamities or unfortunate accidents that may have be­fallen them. This shews us mightily conceited of our selves and our own judgments, when we think God so fond of our private and singular sentiments as that all his Providences must needs serve onely to vindicate and countenance our side, and disparage those that are contra­ry to us. This is busily to pry into God's secrets, and it is the greatest affront we can put upon him, thus unwarrantably to pronounce concerning his Actions, as if we were of his Cabinet-council, and had particular revelations of all the de­signs he carrieth on in the world. This is to exercise our selves in great matters, and such as are too high for us: for what man is he that can know the counsel of God? [Page 114]or who can think what the will of the Lord is? for the thoughts of mortal men are mi­serable, and our devices are but uncertain. And hardly do we guess aright at things that are upon earth, and with labour do we find the things that are before us; but the things that are in heaven who hath sear­ched out? and God's counsel who hath known?

3. Another instance of this sort of self-conceit may be in private and illiterate persons pretending to expound the most difficult and obscure places of Scripture, and to unfold and determine the most nice and curious questions in Theology. There is enough in holy Scripture plain and easie to employ the thoughts and lives of private Christians, and yet it is too true that these parts of it, though they alone contain our necessary duty, are quite overlooked, at least not near so much studied or regarded, as those that are most mysterious and dark: and thus even amongst common people you will find not a few that are more positive and dogmatical in their interpretations of Prophecies, mystical Speeches, and the Book of Revelations, than any sober Di­vine [Page 115]that hath made the Bible his study for many years. Whether this ariseth from the encrease or decay of knowledge amongst us, I shall not stand now to en­quire, but so it is, that many a zealous Me­chanick amongst us sets up for a judge of Orthodoxy; and having learnt a great deal of Scripture by rote and a few terms of art, shall dictate as magisterially con­cerning the difficultest points in Divinity, as if he had sate all his life long in the infallible Chair. And indeed I am apt to think this is peculiar to us in England, at least that we are more notorious for it than those who live in other Countries, and that not onely now in our days, but that we have been so in former times: for I find it amongst the observations made by an Italian in Queen Elizabeth's days, of glorious memory, that the common peo­ple of England were wiser, or at least thought themselves so, than the wisest of other Nations: for that here the very wo­men and shopkeepers were able to judge of predestination, free-will, perseverance, and to demonstrate the divine right of a Lay­elder, and were better able to raise and answer perplexed cases of conscience, than the most learned Colleges in other parts of [Page 116]Europe; and he concludes with this seri­ous remark, that those persons who were most busie in disputations and controversies, and finding out the mistakes of their go­vernours and teachers had always the least of humility, mortification or the power of godliness. Of all the several kinds of fops that are, there is none more impertinent, troublesome and justly ridiculous, than a gifted brother full of his visions and il­luminations, who can split an hair, and smell out an heresie I know not how far off, who thinking that he knoweth all things knoweth nothing yet as he ought to know. It is good advice therefore of the wise son of Sirach, Be not curious in un­necessary matters, for more things are shewed unto thee than men understand.

4. This sort of self-conceit which con­sists in medling with things we do not understand, or do not belong to us, ap­peareth in nothing more than in opposing our own prudence and discretion to the constitutions of our governours, and the determinations of our superiours in mat­ters relating to publick peace and order; and a great many such there are who are never satisfied unless every thing be de­creed [Page 117]and appointed just as they them­selves think best and most fit. Hence they spend most of their time and discourse in canvassing and descanting upon the actions of their superiours, of which they are yet most incompetent judges; in taxing and in­veighing against their proceeding, though never so far out of their sphere and ca­pacity; in finding fault with their con­duct and picking quarrels with their or­ders and commands. What an happy world would there soon be, thinks such a grave politician, if all things were set­tled according to that model, which he hath framed in his own conceit? how well would the State be secured, how quietly would the Church be governed, how decently would Divine Service be performed, how would all interests and parties be pleased, how soon would all fears and jealousies vanish if he had but the management of affairs, or his coun­sel might be heard? how soon would there be a thorow reformation of all that is a­miss, would the King but please to think him worthy of such a place of power and authority? In short, let things be well or ill administred, still, if his hand be not in it, he finds matter of dislike and [Page 118]complaint; or if it do chance that he hath nothing at all to object, yet he will give you a grave shrug or nodd, and shake his empty head, as if all were not well, and he knew some great matter which he durst not utter. Alas! what an unhappy thing is it that such a prodi­gious wise man should be so little taken notice of or regarded? Thus every one almost conceited of his own politicks in­vades the office of a Counsellour of State, and acteth a Prince or Bishop, and posi­tively determineth what laws are fit to be repealed, what new ones to be made; what ceremonies in God's worship ought to be retained, what to be abrogated: and thus we confound and disturb that order and subordination which God hath placed in the world, and render the Ma­gistrate's office altogether useless, and as it were dethrone and depose those whom God hath set over us. It is the office of our governours to take care of the pub­lick peace and safety, and to make such laws as shall seem to them most conducing thereto, which we are bound to submit to, whether we judge them expedient or not; for if no laws or constitutions of our go­vernours were to take place but onely [Page 119]such as every one should approve of, the authority of the Magistrate would signi­fie nothing, but every man would be his own lord and master, which would ne­cessarily introduce the greatest disorder and confusion.

5. And lastly. Hence it is men are so busie and pragmatical in intermedling and interposing in the concerns and pri­vate affairs of their neighbours, or any others they have the least knowledge of, putting their sickle into every man's corn, peeping into every man's house, listening at every ones window, to furnish them­selves with matter for censure and obser­vation, and by thus thrusting themselves into every man's business, they usurp un­due authority, they assume without just title superiority and jurisdiction over o­thers, infringe their liberty, and impli­citly charge them with weakness and in­capacity to dispatch their own affairs without their direction. The conceited man will not allow to others their share of discretion, but monopolizes and en­grosses all wisedom to himself, and if any thing happens well with others, it was he to be sure that gave the first hint and [Page 120]advice; but if things go otherwise than well, ‘why, the fool would not be go­verned, he may e'en thank himself for it, he would not hearken to good coun­sel’. Such an one is in at all things, is of all trades and professions, under­stands all arts and sciences, is fit to regu­late all disorders, make up all differen­ces, carry on all intricate designs, able to conquer all difficulties and remove mountains; he is ready to undertake any thing, though never so much above his observation and experience; to him all ought to repair for satisfaction and di­rection; he speaks nothing but oracles, and to his decisions all ought to submit, and perfectly to acquiesce in his judg­ment. But this shall suffice for this first sort of self-conceit, which consists in medling with things we do not under­stand, or do not belong to us.

II. This conceit of our own wisedom is shewn in being obstinate and pertina­cious in some singular fancies and opi­nions, though upon never such slight grounds at first believed and entertained. There is none so apt to run into gross mistakes and absurdities, nor yet so hard [Page 121]to be made sensible of them, as one that overvalues his own parts and wisedom; for he hath not patience enough to con­sider and examine any thing justly and throughly, he counts it a disparagement in any case to suspend and enquire, he understands all things at first sight, and by instinct; and thus if he judgeth right­ly, he hath good fortune, but if not, if he be in errour, it is impossible ever to convince or reclaim him; for he is impa­tient of all opposition, disdains all coun­sel, cannot brook the least contradiction, nor endure to be gainsayed; he scorns all instruction or rebuke, is galled to the quick, and takes it for an insufferable af­front if you yield not to him in every thing he says. It is as safe to give a man of honour the lie, as to dispute what such a dictatour affirms, you must receive all his grave and wise aphorisms with a deep silence and profound reverence, or else you lose his favour and friendship for e­ver. The proud man will teach all, learn of none, will not suffer any one besides himself to have or use any understanding in his company, or to be able to doe or say any thing well; what hopes then of doing him any good, who swelled with [Page 122]an overweening esteem of his own abili­ties, never so much as once dreams that it is possible he may be deceived? It is the saying of Solomon, Prov. 26.12. Seest thou a man wise in his own conceit, there is more hope of a fool than of him.

I persuade you not to deny or doubt of any truth which indeed you know, nor to be uncertain and wavering in your be­lief of any thing which by good argu­ment and reason is made plain and evi­dent unto you, but onely that you would not be too passionately confident of what you do believe, and that you would not be stiff and dogmatical about such things as good and wise men have in all ages dif­fered about. All I advise is, that we should all of us throughly consider our own ignorance, and the scantiness of our faculties, and how easie it is for us to mi­stake, and be very ready to distrust our selves, and our own apprehensions; that we should bear a due regard and defe­rence to the judgments of other men, and quietly hear and carefully attend to what is said against any thing we do be­lieve, as well as to those who are of our own mind; that we should be willing to [Page 123]be taught (and untaught too what for a long time we have held as certain) by those who are better and have more un­derstanding than our selves, especially by those whom God hath set over us, for that very end: that we should weigh things without partiality or passion, and enquire out truth with the same indiffe­rence a Traveller doth his road, being concerned onely to find out the right way; and that we should be ready at any time to change our opinion where we see good reason for it, and account it no shame to go over to the better side; for it is a fairer and nobler victory to van­quish an old inveterate prejudice or mi­stake, than in wrangling dispute to si­lence the most subtile adversary. And in disputable things, which are capable of opposition and reason on both sides, for a man to confess his doubt, is a great testimony of a good judgment, and an excellent disposition, and a preparative to sound wisedom; whereas to talk con­fidently and positively about such things, hath been always given as the sign of a fool and illiterate person, of a fiery and clamorous bigot, of an ill-manner'd and conceited zealot.

What I have said of opinions may easily be applied to vices, where the case is the same, for it is this self-conceit which har­dens a man in all his sins, and makes him deaf to all good instructions, whilst he thinks so well of himself, that even his very defects he accounts beauties, and can excuse, if not commend, his own de­formities.

III. Lastly, This conceit of our own wisedom appears in affecting to impose our own humours and apprehensions upon others, and in despising and con­demning all that are not in every thing just of our mind and persuasion.

I have heard not a few complain of the impositions that our Laws Ecclesiastical do lay upon their tender consciences; but yet give me leave to say I never met with any man that made this complaint, but who, notwithstanding his dislike of the present constitution (and there never was nor ever will be one that all men shall like) I soon found would be well pleased if his own way were setled instead of it, and laws made to oblige all others [Page 125]to the practice and observance of what he in his own wisedom thinks best and fit­test. And though he doth not approve of what the Magistrate hath appointed or commanded, yet he would have the Ma­gistrate and every one else approve of that, and that onely which he in his own conceit fansies and commends.

And thus every one almost sets up for himself, and would have a Church of his own framing, a Liturgy of his own in­venting, and a Government of his own devising: and it is impossible for us to be satisfied as long as we will submit to no Tribunal, nor ever be pleased unless eve­ry one be forced to believe and practise just as we our selves would have them.

That all men should be of the same mind, and agree in the same conceptions and apprehensions of things is impossible, and no more to be expected in this life, than that all mens faces and complexions should be alike. As long as there are some places of Scripture hard to be understood, several things pertaining to Religion which are not fundamental, and there­fore not plainly determin'd, but remain [Page 126]doubtfull; as long as men have different educations, tempers, constitutions of bo­dy, inclinations of mind, and several in­terests to serve, as long as there are dif­ferent degrees of knowledge and under­standing in men; in a word, as long as ignorance and confidence continue in the world, so long there will be disputes and controversies about matters of Religion, even amongst those who yet agree in the same faith and profession. Nor hath our Christianity provided any infallible way or means of silencing or putting an end to such differences about less matters and speculative points.

We have indeed plainly propounded to us whatever is necessary for us to know or practise in order to salvation; and for the understanding of this, nothing else is requisite but an honest mind and sincere desire of learning. As for other things which are not of so great moment, and are more obscure, it is sufficient that in all cases we be modest and humble, teachable and governable, that we pre­serve peace, order and charity, and I doubt not but God will pardon the er­rours of those who are upright and well-minded. [Page 127]What horrible presumption therefore is it in us to judge, despise, condemn our brethren, for those mi­stakes (if they be so) which God will overlook and pass by? What devilish pride is this (I cannot speak too earnest­ly in the case) to endeavour like the old Tyrant, to stretch or cramp up every man to the proportion of my bed? to presume that God will judge and count with men just by the rate and measure of my understanding, and damn every one that hath either more or less wit than I have, for either of these may be the occasion of his differing from me. It is the greatest oppression and usurpation imaginable to assault or try to overcome the reason of another by any thing else but reason: and this is the uncharitable spirit that so eminently discovers it self in the Roman Church, which pretending to infallibility and an unerring authority over Christians, condemns and perse­cutes all who will not submit to her de­terminations, and believe as she doth. And with the same spirit many, that hate Popery enough, are too much leavened; I mean those who appropriate the glori­ous names, of the godly, people of God, [Page 128]orthodox Christians, onely to their own paltry Sect or Conventicle, and repro­bate all that have not arrived to the same skill in their Dutch Divinity with them­selves.

Many divisions and subdivisions there are now amongst us, and God onely knows when they will be at an end; but if you would know from whence they arise, it is easie to tell you in the words of Solomon, onely of pride cometh con­tention; or of St. James, Whence come wars and fightings among you? come they not hence, even from your lusts?

Self-conceit and self-love, whatever is pretended, is the great and principal root of all our religious quarrels and debates, whilst men too highly value their own private judgments in things doubtfull and indifferent, think meanly of the determi­nations of their superiours, and care not though they sacrifice peace and charity to the promoting of any trifling opinion they happen to be fond of.

I find it quoted as one of the Reverend Hooker's ordinary sayings, that the Scrip­tures [Page 129]were not writ to beget disputations and pride, and scruples and opposition to government, but charity, humility, mode­ration, obedience to authority, and peace to mankind; of which vertues (as he al­ways added) no man ever repented him­self at his death-bed. And if ever unity and Christian concord, and peace, and brotherly love be again recovered, and prevail again amongst us, it must be by these means and principles.

It is a vain thing to think to bring all men to one mind, but yet one would hope it not impossible to persuade Chri­stians to a mean opinion of themselves, that in lowliness of mind each should esteem others before himself, to a dutifull subjection to their betters in things under their charge and ordering, and to a mu­tual forbearance and charity where they cannot presently agree, and this would doe every whit as well as if we were all of one mind.

Several expedients have been propoun­ded for the uniting us, and reconciling our differences; some are for toleration, others for comprehension, others for the [Page 130]strict execution of penal laws, but alas! neither these nor any other are likely to have any effect upon us till we learn hu­mility and modesty, till pride and self-conceit, and all imperious affectation of imposing our own singularities upon o­thers be rooted out of the world, till we learn to submit to our betters, and in in­different things not to oppose our private opinions to the publick determinations of the Church. This one vertue of humi­lity would go farther towards the putting an end to all our terms of distinction and unchristian Separations, than all the Wri­tings or Disputings, all the Laws and Pro­clamations about the Church have hi­therto done. Whatever is the cause of the errour, pride is always the cause of the quarrel that makes the breach and forms the party.

Let but all amongst us agree together in common to mortify our pride and ar­rogance, and conceited esteem of our selves, and base contempt of others, and the simple truth will prevail in the world, or at least there will be no more of these unchristian Separations and Schisms, but peace and unity will be established and secured amongst us.

To sum up all I have said. Be not wise in your own conceits. Affect not things above your skill and reach. Meddle not with what is beyond your capacity, or out of your sphere; small abilities and great confidence ordinarily make the most inconsiderable and ridiculous crea­ture in nature.

Think it no diminution in some things to confess your ignorance, in all weighty business to ask for counsel and advice: trust not too much to your own judg­ments and discretions.

Think that your Governours and Teachers may be wiser, and know bet­ter what is for the publick good, and what is fit and decent than you can possi­bly do. Give other men leave to under­stand as well as you, and make not your selves the standard of wisedom, nor take upon your selves to bear down all man­kind, or to command in all companies, nor expect that every one should yield to your humours, and deny their own incli­nations that they may gratify yours.

Do not pertinaciously pursue any thing wherein you are singular, examine all things, even those things you may have long believed to be true, with diffi­dence of your selves, and suspicion of your own judgments: hear calmly, de­bate soberly and rationally, and allow o­ther men their turn to speak, and attend to what is said against you with as eager a desire of learning, as you do to what is discoursed on your own behalf.

Think how often formerly you have been deceived, and been forced to retract your errour; and that when you grow older, and get greater experience, you may chance also again in many things to change your mind. Be not apt to think meanly of, or severely censure, or superci­liously disdain those that differ from you. Woe unto them, saith the Prophet, that are wise in their own eyes, and prudent in their own sight. There is nothing more odious and distastfull to God or men, than the imperious domineering and in­sulting spirit and temper of the self-con­ceited; nor yet any greater sport and di­version to his company than his grave [Page 133]looks, his formal stiff carriage, his star­ched set discourse, his lofty pretences, his cunning conjectures, his Ʋtopian pro­jects, his sly and crafty commendations of himself, his wise remarks upon all things and persons; and thus the fool empty of all true worth, and full of him­self, struts and swells and admires him­self, but is laughed at by every body else.

What on the other side is more grace­full and amiable, more lovely and char­ming, than humility and modesty, a mean estimation of our selves, and a wil­lingness to yield and condescend to o­thers? It renders us no less acceptable to men than to God; it hath a singular obligingness and agreeableness in it self, though we have nothing else to give us advantage.

To conclude all: when we had rather obey than rule, follow than lead; when we disdain not to learn of the meanest, despise no body besides our selves, do not think it reasonable to magnify our selves above other men, but set a just value up­on those abilities they are endewed with, [Page 134]in honour preferring others before our selves: When every one thus minds and contents himself with his own business and the offices of his particular calling, contains himself in that rank God Al­mighty hath placed him in, studies to act his own part well and to the life, and is most busie in mending himself; Then, and not till then, will the times mend, and we may expect God's blessing upon us. But when every common Souldier thinks he can order things better than his Cap­tain, and leaves his own station to direct his Officer, and every Captain neglects his own Company to teach and instruct the Commander, what can follow but mutiny and disorder, if not utter confu­sion? Be not wise in your own conceits.

AS it is God alone that knows the thoughts of man, so his com­mands alone directly reach to them, and no little part of Religion con­sists in the due government of them; whence it is commonly laid down as a rule of interpreting any of God's laws, that though onely the outward action be expresly commanded or forbidden, yet it must be extended to the inward thoughts, affections and dispositions of our minds; and he that appears very innocent and unblameable as to his words and actions, may yet really in the sight of God, and a true account of things, stand guilty of the greatest wickedness by reason onely of his impure, malitious, or otherwise evil thoughts.

Thoughts indeed are free from the do­minion or power of men, we may con­ceal or disguise them from all the world, we may deceive the most cunning and subtile, by speaking and acting contrary to our minds; by pretending what we never mean, by promising what we ne­ver intend; and if we betray not our selves no man can find us out, and we ought to judge one of another onely by what is visible and notorious: but yet our thoughts are absolutely subject to God's authority, are under his jurisdic­tion who is omniscient, who knoweth them afar off; who seeth not as man seeth, nor judgeth as man judgeth; for the righteous God trieth the hearts and reins, discerneth the most hidden wor­kings and inward motions of our souls, is conscious to all the wandrings of our fancies and imaginations, is acquainted with all our private designs and contri­vances, and knoweth our secret ends and intentions, so that in respect of the divine laws and judgment, our very thoughts are as capable of being really good or re­ally evil as our actions.

Now thoughts here I understand in the largest sense, as comprehending all the internal acts of the mind of man, viz. not onely simple conceits, apprehensions, fancies, bare pondring or musing of any thing in our minds, but also all the rea­sonings, consultations, purposes, resolu­tions, designs, contrivances, desires and cares of our minds as opposed to our ex­ternal words and actions. Whatever is transacted wholly within our selves, of which none are conscious but God and our own souls, I understand here by thoughts.

But then by evil thoughts I do not mean the bare thinking of any thing that is evil, or the apprehending or conside­ring what is sinfull; for this of it self doth no more pollute or defile our souls, than seeing a loathsome ugly sight doth hurt the eye.

The Prophet indeed tells us that God is of purer eyes than to behold evil, and that he cannot look on iniquity, that is, not with the least degree of complacence or approbation; he cannot endure it, nor [Page 138]will he always bear it; but yet for all this, God seeth all the sins that are com­mitted in the world; for he beholdeth mischief and spite to requite it with his hand, as David tells us Psal. 20.14. and it is necessary when he forbids it, punisheth it, or pardons it, that sin must then be the object of the divine understanding in all those acts that are conversant about it. The eyes of the Lord are in every place beholding the evil and the good.

Thus our blessed Saviour, though he was free from all sin, yet when he was tempted by the Devil, no doubt had in his mind the apprehension of that evil he was instigated to by that wicked spirit; it was all at that instant represented to his thoughts; but since his will did not in the least comply with or incline to­wards it, since the motion was rejected with infinite abhorrence and dislike, he contracted not the least guilt thereby.

A bad man may often think of what is good, may entertain his mind with speculations about God, his immortal soul, a future life, the benefits purchased for us by Jesus Christ; may employ him­self [Page 139]much in the study and meditation of the Scriptures, divine and spiritual things, onely to exercise his wit, to satisfie his curiosity or inquisitive humour, to fur­nish himself for talk or dispute, to appear learned, or the like; nay he may take great pleasure in thinking of such objects, and in using his reason, judgment, inven­tion or fancy about them, as other men are delighted in the study of any other sciences or in any acquired knowledge. Yet all these thoughts about good things are not, in a moral reckoning, good thoughts, nor is the man at all morally the better for them, if his will do not join with nor is governed by them. If he be not pleased with, if he doth not entertain such thoughts upon some other accounts, there is no more Religion or vertue in fixing his mind upon God, than there is in thinking of the Sun, or Moon, or Stars, or any proposition in the Mathe­maticks, or any other innocent thing or notion; for thus an atheist may consider much God's nature, and attributes, and providence, onely to pick a quarrel with him, or find out something to object a­gainst them.

And on the other side the best men may, and sometimes must, think of those things that are sinfull, how else should they ever repent of them, beg God's par­don for, or resolve against them? there is no reading in the holy Scriptures or any other histories, wherein the evil ac­tions and speeches of wicked men are re­corded, there is no living or conversing in the world, where so much evil is eve­ry day committed, without thinking of that which is sinfull; but then in good men the thought of any such thing is always with grief and detestation, they think of it as of a thing that is most hate­full and pernicious to them; as men think of a plague or mischance, shivering at the very naming of it, and praying to God to preserve them from it. Thus our thoughts are not to be called or counted evil onely from the object of them.

Nor yet farther by evil thoughts do I understand any sudden thoughts, starting up in our minds before we are aware, which will not I believe be imputed to us as sins, though if consented to, they are [Page 141]undoubtedly evil; for nothing will be reckoned to us as a sin, or punished as such, but what is some way or other vo­luntary, and might have been helped or avoided. Now such first motions of sin (as we commonly call them) which come upon us, nobis non scientibus nec volentibus, without our knowledge and against our wills, are onely the exercise of our vertues when presently checked and contradicted; but when consented to and delighted in, they then bring forth sin, and sin when it is finished brings forth death.

But to be more particular, I shall first of all shew you when our thoughts may be counted voluntary, and we are truly and justly answerable for them. Second­ly, propound to you some of the several kinds of evil thoughts. Thirdly, lay down some practical rules for the due govern­ment of our thoughts.

I. I shall shew when we are justly an­swerable for our thoughts, or when they may be reckoned voluntary; and here I shall onely give these three instances.

1. When evil thoughts are plainly oc­casioned by any thing that was volunta­ry in us, then they are to be accounted voluntary and sinfull. What our thoughts shall be depends very much upon the choice of the outward objects that we converse most with in the world, and they will be oftenest on those things which we delight most in, and accu­stome our selves most unto. So far forth therefore as our company, discourse, em­ployments, entertainments, books, re­creations, wine, nay I may add diet too do contribute to the stirring up in our minds, wanton and lustfull, covetous or ambitious, angry or revengefull thoughts, so far are such thoughts voluntary in us, and though they may come upon us, and arise in our minds without any actual consent or command of our wills, yet we are justly answerable for them, as having by some wilfull act of our own disposed our selves for such thoughts.

By sensuality, and looseness, and in­temperance, and indulging themselves in bodily pleasures, men may so debase their minds, that hardly any thoughts shall [Page 143]offer themselves, but what are beastly and lewd, or at best trifling and useless. Empty, light, vain, foolish, extravagant thoughts, are the natural product of idle­ness, sloth, pride and luxury. So that, though what we shall think of be not at all times in our power, yet it is in our power in a very great measure to abstain from those things which are apt to incite evil thoughts, and minister fewel to them; from all incentives or provoca­tions to inordinate or filthy imaginations. And as far as we our selves give occasion to the raising up of evil thoughts in our minds, so far are they voluntary and im­putable to us.

2. When evil thoughts proceed from gross supine negligence and carelesness, then are we accountable for them: when we keep no guard at all over our minds and fancies, but give them free liberty wildly to rove and ramble; and let what will come into our thoughts; if they then prove vile and wicked, it is very much our own fault, and we must answer for them, because we then willingly prostitute our minds to every lust and vanity. And when we set the doors wide open with­out [Page 144]any watch or guard, we must blame our selves if dishonest men enter in some­times as well as good friends.

Indeed, notwithstanding all our care to secure our selves, thieves may per­chance break in upon us, or creep in unawares; whilst we sleep or intermit our watch, (for we cannot be always upon the guard) the enemy may sow some tares, inject and dart in some evil thoughts. Though we keep never so strict an eye over our selves, and endea­vour to the utmost to keep our souls pure and chast, yet sometimes by surprize, through casual non-attendance and inad­vertency, or the cunning and activity of our spiritual enemies, a base wicked thought may suddenly possess our minds, nay and abide in us for some time before we take notice of it; but then the mind is mostly passive in this; it is ravished rather than voluntarily commits lewd­ness: this is our weakness and infirmity onely, which God is always ready to pity and pardon.

Our souls are active and busie, they cease to be and exist, when they do not [Page 145]think of something or other. Now if we do not take care to furnish our minds continually with good and usefull matter for our thoughts, they will soon find out something else to exercise themselves up­on; and when we let them run loosely and at random, and think at all adven­tures as it happens, we then tempt the Devil to chuse a subject for us, we expose our selves to the wildness and extrava­gance of our own vain imaginations; and when we keep no watch, no won­der though we be overrun with swarms of vagrant thoughts. When therefore our evil thoughts arise from gross neglect and carelesness, they then may be ac­counted voluntary, and charged on us as sins.

3. Though evil thoughts may be in­voluntary at the first starting of them, being occasioned by what we could not avoid hearing or seeing, or coming upon us unawares, or proceeding from the temper and habit of our bodies, or the accidental impulses and motions of the animal spirits in our brains, which are the most immediate instruments the soul uses in her operations; though thus the [Page 146]first rise of evil thoughts may be involun­tary, yet if we with pleasure entertain and cherish them, if our fancies are tic­kled by them, if they are delightfull and gratefull to us, this implies the consent of our wills, and they then become greatly sinfull in us.

Though we did not at first willingly conjure up these evil spirits, yet if we like their company, and bid them welcome, and provide lodging for them, that they may continue with us, this comes well­nigh to the same as if we had at first invi­ted them in. Nay when such enemies have invaded our minds, if we do not present­ly raise all the forces we can against them, put a sudden check and stop to them, la­bour with all our power to quell and root them out; we are reasonably presumed to be of their party, and to join with them. My meaning is plainly this, that though evil thoughts at first enter with­out our leave and consent, yet if after­wards we knowingly indulge them, nay if we do not streight upon our reflexion upon them reject them with utter hatred and indignation, and by all means strive to divert our thoughts to more innocent [Page 147]objects, we then stand truly guilty of the evil and malice of them: which some have used to express thus; that though we cannot hinder the birds from flying over our heads, ye we may prevent their making of nests in our hair.

The sum of all I have said is this: That evil thoughts are no farther sinfull in us, than they are voluntary, or than they may be helped and avoided: whenever therefore we give manifest occasion to them by allowing our selves in such prac­tices as are apt to incite evil thoughts, or when we do not before-hand duely watch against them; or when, if they do at any time arise in our minds, we fail to stifle and crush them as soon, and as far as we are able, then they are reckoned to us as sins, and are to be repented of as well as actual transgressions.

II. Having thus briefly shewn you when we are in fault and to be blamed if our thoughts be evil, I proceed now secondly to give some account of the na­ture and kinds of evil thoughts. And here you must not expect that I should give you a particular enumeration of the [Page 148]several sorts of them, for that would be an impossible thing; Who can tell how oft he offendeth? who can declare all the several thoughts that come into a man's mind but in one day or one hour, which yet he would blush to have made known to those he converses with? Our thoughts are very quick and sudden, nimble and volatile, can wander in a moment to the utmost ends of the earth, can leap streight from one pole to the other, are as vari­ous as the several objects of our senses, and the infinitely different ways where­by they may be disposed, united or blen­ded together. And if we should be at a loss for external objects to think of, the mind can easily frame objects to it self, and a thousand frenzies and extravagan­ces, and mad whimsies and giddy conceits are the monstrous issues of mens brains. I shall therefore onely give some few in­stances of thoughts undoubtedly evil and sinfull. Such are

1. Which I shall insist most upon, the representing and acting over sins in our minds and thoughts: when we erect a stage in our fancies, and on it with strange complacence imagine those satis­factions [Page 149]and filthinesses which yet we dare not, which we have not opportuni­ty to bring into outward act. This is by some called speculative wickedness, the dreams of men awake. When we gratify our covetous impure desires and lusts with the pictures and feigned representa­tion of those enjoyments and pleasures and sensual contentments we have a mind to. Now such kind of thoughts may be con­sidered with respect to the time present, past or to come.

(1.) If we consider these lewd imagi­nations as to the present time, there is no sin or wickedness so vile and heinous but a man may become truly guilty of it in the sight of God onely by imagining it done in his mind, and taking pleasure in such a thought. Thus the revengefull person who perhaps hath hardly heart and courage so much as to handle his sword, or to look his enemy in the face, yet in his thoughts can fight him and subdue him, imagine him under his power, lying at his mercy, and exercise all manner of spite and cruelty towards him, put him to extreme pain and mise­ry, fansie him undone and ruin'd, and [Page 150]then rejoice in his own mind, that he is thus even with him; and by this means may become guilty of the sins of mur­ther and revenge, though he hath not done his enemy the least mischief all this while.

Thus again, modesty, shame, fear of discredit, or some other temporal consi­deration may prevail with a man so far, as that he shall never attempt a woman's chastity; but yet if in his thoughts he fansies her present with him, and em­braces that image of her which is painted in his mind with a phantastick love; if the devil of lust be stirred up in him, and he enjoys the cloud, the creature of his own brain, this is the adultery of the heart, our mind then becomes a stews, and is polluted and defiled; and though the actual sin be a sign of greater impu­dence and more untamed lust, yet this argues the same kind of wickedness and uncleanness. And this was the Doctrine of the Philosophers of old: fecit quisque, quantum voluit: every one may well be supposed to have done that which he wanted not will or mind to, but onely opportunity of doing. So Seneca, latro [Page 151]est etiam antequam manus inquinet. He is a thief that covets, though he never rifles another man's goods, if in his ima­gination onely, he possesses them; nay a man may thus contract the guilt of grea­ter and more sins, than ever he can pos­sibly act. It is but a very little in reality that the most griping ravenous oppres­sour can grasp to himself, or defraud other men of, but in his thoughts he may swal­low Empires, and plunder whole Towns and Cities. Thus a man, even whilst in this place, may stal another, though in Turkey, he may ravish every beautifull woman he sees, rob every man he meets with, and in the twinckling of an eye (like Caligula) murther whole Societies and Kingdoms.

For this I take for an undoubted truth, that they who allow themselves in evil thoughts and imaginations, who give way to their ambitious, covetous, or lustfull fancies, are not restrained by the fear of God from the actual commission of those sins they love to think of; it is some other bye consideration, some tem­poral respect that hinders them, not the sense of their duty and Religion: and this [Page 152]I believe every one that faithfully exa­mines his own mind will yield, that if he could as freely, and as safely and secretly commit any sin, as he can think of it with pleasure and delight, he should not stick, as often as he had any inclination or temptation thereto, to doe all those things he thinks of with so much joy. Could the angry revengefull person, whose mind boils and ferments with in­ward spleen and rage, by a wish or thought, with as little danger, and as secure from all knowledge of other men, or the least suspition of being found out, kill or wound or mischief his enemy, as he can desire it in his mind, do you be­lieve he would spare any of his adversa­ries? could the greedy wretch as secret­ly get the possession of his neighbour's goods, as he can covet them, could he actually cheat and overreach, and it were no more possible for him to be dis­cover'd, than it is for men to know his thoughts, I doubt not but every such per­son would soon actually invade and usurp all those things he now swallows in his imagination or greedy appetite onely. But farther;

(2.) As to what is past, there is reci­ting and repeating over those sins in our thoughts and fancies, which we had long before committed, and perhaps, as to the external acts, quite forsaken. When we revive our stollen unlawfull pleasures in our memories, and run over in our minds all the passages and circumstances of our sins long since committed, with a new and fresh delight; this is much the same as if we lived continually in them. As men often think of their dead friends, and represent to themselves their features, their conversations, and divert themselves with the remembrance of that pleasure they once enjoyed in their good discourse and company, though they have lain many years rotting in their graves: or as good men with mighty satisfaction reflect upon the actions of a well-spent life, re­calling to their minds with great joy and transport, what at any time they have well done, after the same manner do wicked men as it were raise again by the witchcraft of their filthy imaginations, their past sins, renew their acquaintance with them, and approbation of them. When weak and impotent, disabled by [Page 154]poverty, age, want of convenience or opportunity for the repeated commission of them, they possess the sins of their youth, and place them ever before them, chewing upon the cud, recounting over to themselves their merry bouts, their mad pranks, their wanton dalliances, their lewd excesses, their wicked compa­ny, with the same contentment almost as they first acted or enjoyed them: and thus their souls sin still as much as ever, although yet as to the outward act they may be through age, poverty, want of ability or opportunity, chast, temperate and sober. This is certain, we cannot be truly said to have forsaken or repented of those sins, the remembrance of which is gratefull to us. To think of our evil ways with grief and shame, and to abhor them, is our duty; but to relish them in our thoughts is still to approve of them, it is a sure sign that we have not really disowned or renounced the sin in our judgments, though we may have loft it for some accidental reason, and that we are still very good friends with it, if we can allow our selves to think of it with pleasure and delight.

(3.) If we consider evil thoughts with respect to the time to come; the specu­lative wickedness of mens fancies and imaginations shews it self in the wild and extravagant suppositions they make to themselves, feigning themselves to be what they would fain be, and then ima­gining in their minds what in such cir­cumstances they would doe, how they would manage and demean themselves. God onely knows how much time men fool away in such childish conceits, of becoming, God knows when, great and rich and honourable; and how bravely they would then live, how they would please every appetite and humour, fulfill every desire, have their will in all things, and enjoy perfect ease and content. Now this is the work of a mean idle fancy, when we thus frame to our selves imagi­nary models of happiness, creating fools paradises to our selves, building castles in the air, and then vainly struting up and down, and sporting our selves in them. What preferments and advancements, what success and prosperous fortune do some men, especially young men that know but little in the world, promise to [Page 156]themselves? what jolly thoughts do such false Romantick hopes often fill them with, how do they make their spirits leap and caper within them, as if the messenger were just now at the door to bring them tidings of it? how do their thoughts go out to meet that pleasure and happiness they so much desire? how do they please themselves with the fan­cies of those mountains of gold, with those strange chimerical Idea's of bliss which yet they are never like to be pos­sessed of? like those Good-fellows the Prophet Isaiah speaks of, Isa. 56.12. Come ye, say they, I will fetch wine, and we will fill our selves with strong drink, and to morrow shall be as this day, and much more abundant: they feed and live upon the promises of their own hearts and thoughts before-hand, and as one hath well ex­pressed this vanity, they take up before­hand in their thoughts upon trust the plea­sures they hope to enjoy, as spend-thrifts do their rents, or heirs their revenues be­fore they come of full age to enjoy them.

Very few men are satisfied with their present allotments, or like their present fortune, and therefore they set their ima­ginations [Page 157]on work to mend it; and please and gratify themselves with these silly im­postures of their teeming fancies. ‘Well, says the impatient youth, when my Parents are once dead and gone to hea­ven, and my time of being subject to Masters, Tutours and Guardians shall be once happily expired, and I shall be free from the restraint of the grave and wise, how brisk and frolicksome shall I then be? how merry will the days be, how short the nights, when I shall sin without fear of an angry look, or a severe check, please onely my self, give no account to any?’ Thus his heart and mind is debauched long before his body is entred: and so the admirer of honour and worldly dignity cuts out for himself that place at Court, or that office which he af­fects most, and then settles himself in all the magnificence and pomp imaginable, fansying himself highly raised and exal­ted above other men; all his neighbours and former acquaintance crowding to at­tend and wait on his pleasure, and all their sheaves bowing down to his sheaf, as Joseph dreamt, and the sun, moon and stars ma­king their humble obeysance to him. These are the first sort of evil thoughts, lewd or [Page 158]wicked, or trifling and useless imagina­tions. I shall but just mention some o­ther, as

2. Unworthy, Atheistical, prophane, desperate thoughts of God Almighty, saying in our hearts there is no God, either secretly denying there is any, or too of­ten wishing there were none: questio­ning his power and goodness, distrusting his truth or faithfulness: How should God know? or is there knowledge in the most high? can he judge through the dark cloud? bidding him depart from us, for we desire not the knowledge of his ways. What is the Almighty, that we should serve him? and what profit should we have, if we pray to him? what can he doe for us to recompence the trouble of his service? what advantage will it be to me, if I be cleansed from my sin? ‘Here is a deal of doe and bustle made about Conscience and Religion, I will e'en venture my self as I see a thou­sand others do; I shall scape as well as the rest of my company or acquain­tance, and the like.’ God onely knows how many of us suffer such vile thoughts as these to lodge in our breasts.

3. I might instance in our thinking and musing upon things innocent and harmless enough in themselves, which yet become evil because of the seasons of them, that is, because we should then be thinking of better things; for it is cer­tainly lawfull to think of our friends, re­lations, temporal concerns, but then it must be in due time and place: they must not justle out all other thoughts; nay we must wholly banish them our minds when we come into God's more especial presence; at our prayers, or at receiving of the Sacrament, such thoughts are by no means to be admitted. I speak not now of the sudden excursions of our thoughts, even when the mind is about the most serious employments, nor of the greater unruliness of our thoughts, upon some particular accidents or occasions. I mean onely our gross heedlesness in suf­fering them to wander to the ends of the earth, whilst in pretence and shew we are engaged in worshipping that God, who is a spirit, and will be worshipped in spirit and truth. What man that now hears me would be content that all the several things not onely that have sud­denly [Page 160]come into his mind, but which he hath voluntarily for a considerable time dwelt upon and entertained his mind with during this short exercise, should be here openly exposed to the whole Con­gregation? How many of us have been telling our money, or counting over our bags, or selling or buying in our shops, or at our games and sports, or ordering our houshold affairs, or conversing with distant friends? into how many Coun­tries have some of us travelled? how ma­ny persons have we visited? how many several affairs have we dispatched, to say no worse, since we first this day began Divine Service?

4 I might farther mention envious, malitious, fretting thoughts, when our spirits are disquieted and vexed at the prosperity and happiness of other men, who get the start of us, and are preferred before us, because they have a greater trade, or are better loved and more re­spected than our selves. Or

5. Troublesome anxious thoughts of future events, multiplying to our selves endless fears and solicitudes, distracting [Page 161]our minds with useless unnecessary cares for the things of this life, perplexing our selves about things that do not at all con­cern us, nor belong to us. How many who want nothing they can reasonably desire, render their lives strangely wretch­ed and miserable, onely by discontented and melancholy thoughts, and ill-boding apprehensions? their souls continually shaking with the pannick dread of im­probable crosses and misfortunes, crea­ting to themselves great pain and confu­sion by tragical and idle jealousies of evils to come, and by vexing at what they cannot help or avoid? or,

6. I might insist on haughty, proud, admiring thoughts of our selves. How much time do many men spend in study­ing and considering their own worth and excellencies? how do they please them­selves with viewing their own endow­ments and accomplishments, and ima­gine all others to have the same opi­nion of them they have of themselves, that every one is speaking of their praise, and that all that pass by them take notice of them, and ask who they are.

I might instance in carking and pro­jecting thoughts, plotting and contriving for years and ages to come, as if our houses were to continue for ever, and our dwelling places to all generations.

I might instance in thoughts of pre­sumption and security; bidding our souls take their ease, and satisfy themselves with those good things we have laid up for many years.

I have not time now to speak of vain, unprofitable, insignificant thoughts, when, as we ordinarily say, we think of nothing, that is, not any thing we can give an ac­count of; when our thoughts have no de­pendence nor coherence one upon the o­ther, which I may call the nonsense of our thoughts, they being like the con­ceits of madmen, or like little boys in a School, who, as long as the Master is with them, all regularly keep in their se­veral places, every one minding his pro­per work, but as soon as his back is tur­ned, are all streight out of their places in disorder and confusion: such are our thoughts when we forget to watch over [Page 163]them, or command them: but this is an endless subject.

III. The onely thing remaining is to name to you some plain practical rules for the right government of our thoughts.

1. The first Rule shall be grounded upon the words of my Text, Out of the heart proceed evil thoughts. If they pro­ceed from our hearts, then we must look especially after them. In the words there­fore of Solomon, Prov. 4.23. Keep thy heart with all diligence, for out of it are the issues of life. Thus the Pro­phet Jeremiah 4.14. Wash thy heart from wickedness, how long shall vain thoughts lodge within thee? and here our Saviour, out of the heart proceed evil thoughts. Now by heart in the Scripture phrase is most ordinarily meant the affections, such as love, hope, fear, joy, desire, and the like: so that the plain sense of this place is, that such as mens affections are, such as the objects are, upon which they are placed, and towards which they are most carried out, such will their thoughts be: we shall certainly think most of those things that we love most, [Page 164]that we fear most, that we desire most. Do we not find it thus in all other in­stances? and were our affections but due­ly set upon divine and heavenly objects, we should as constantly and as pleasantly think of them, as the worldly or ambi­tious man doth of his honours and riches. Were our hearts but once throughly af­fected with a sense of God and goodness, and the things of the other world, we should hardly find any room in our thoughts for meaner and inferiour ob­jects; such divine and spiritual matters would fill our souls, and wholly employ and take up our minds. If we once really loved God above any present enjoyment or temporal contentment, it would be im­possible that things sensible should exclude the thoughts of him out of our minds, or that we could pass any considerable time without some converse with him, and ad­dresses to him. Have we a business of such infinite moment depending upon those few hours that yet remain of our lives (how few God onely knows) and have we time and leisure to spend whole days and weeks in unprofitable useless fancies and dreams, in the mean time forgetting the danger we are in, and the onely necessary work we have to doe?

Here then must the foundation be laid, in setting our affections upon things a­bove, in frequent considering the impor­tance, the necessity, the absolute neces­sity of our duty in order to our happiness, till by degrees we come to a love and li­king of goodness and Religion, and then holy, pious and devout thoughts will be easie, free and almost natural to us; it is I grant it, a vain thing to persuade you to look after your thoughts whilst your minds are estranged from God; but a re­newed mind, a new heart, as the Scripture calls it, would produce new and other­ghess thoughts. As the fountain is, such will the streams be; where the treasure is, there will the heart be also: An evil tree cannot bring forth good fruit, nor can we ga­ther figs from thorns, or grapes from thistles; evil thoughts, lusts, foolish imaginations, are the natural genuine spawn of a wild dishonest mind. When I was a child, saith St. Paul, I thought as a child, I spake as a child, but when I became a man I put away childish things. As it is impossible for a wise man, after that he is arrived to years of understanding, and his mind is furnished with the knowledge of the best [Page 166]and worthiest things, to please himself with those silly fancies and childish ima­ginations, which were the entertainment and diversion of his younger, rawer years; so 'tis no less impossible for any one who is deeply touched with the things of God, and hath a due sense of those things which are more excellent, to endure such silly worldly extravagant thoughts as pos­sessed his soul, and pleased him in the days of his ignorance and folly. How do I love thy law, saith David, it is my medi­tation day and night. This is the first rule, look after your heart and affecti­ons.

2. And more particularly; Consider what care and art wicked men use to pre­vent good thoughts, and let us use the same diligence and endeavours to hinder evil and wicked thoughts and motions. There is no man, especially that lives in any place where Religion is professed, and in any tolerable credit, that can go on in a course of sin without some regret and re­morse; sometimes his conscience will find a time to speak to him; the natural notions of a God and a future state will ever and anon be stirring, and are apt to [Page 167]disturb the repose and jollity of the most secure and hardened sinner. Now to one resolvedly wicked, such thoughts of a judge, a future accompt, and everlasting punishments, cannot but be very uneasie and unwelcome; and therefore doth he strive all that he can to stifle such chilling thoughts in their very first rise, to silence or drown the whispers of his conscience, he would fain even run away from him­self, he chuses any diversion, entertain­ment or company, rather than attend to the dictates of his own mind and reason, is afraid of nothing so much as being a­lone and unemployed, lest such ghastly and frighting apprehensions should croud in upon him; he keeps himself therefore always in a hurry and heat, and by ma­ny other artifices endeavours to shut all such cool and sober thoughts out of his mind, till by often quenching the moti­ons of God's good spirit, and resisting the light and voice of his own conscience, he by degrees loses all sense of good and e­vil, all good principles are laid asleep within him, and he arrives at his wisht-for happy state of sinning without di­sturbance or interruption.

Now if we would but use equal dili­gence and watchfulness to prevent or ex­pell evil thoughts, we should find just the same effect, that in time our minds would become in a great measure free from their solicitations and importunity; would we but presently reject them with the greatest disdain and indignation, use all manner of means to fix our minds on more innocent and usefull subjects, avoid all occasions, or provocations, or incen­tives to evil thoughts, as carefully as wicked men do reading a good book or keeping of good company, we certainly should find in a short time our minds no longer pestered or troubled with them, we should begin to lose all savour and re­lish of those sins we formerly delighted in; by their being for some considerable time kept out of our minds, there would arise a strangeness between them and us, and they would become as uneasie to us as now they are pleasant and gratefull.

3. Would you prevent evil thoughts? above all things avoid idleness; the spi­rits of men are busie and restless, some­thing they must be doing, and what a [Page 169]number of monstrous, giddy, frothy, im­probable conceits do daily fill our brains, merely for want of better employment? no better way therefore to prevent evil thoughts, than never to be at leisure for them, I went by the field of the slothfull, saith Salomon, and loe it was all grown o­ver with thorns and nettles, and therefore indeed those are most of all concerned in this discourse about thoughts, whom pro­vidence hath placed in such a station, as that they are under no necessity of min­ding any particular calling for the gai­ning of a livelihood; for whom God hath provided a subsistence without their own labouring and working for it; such as these are in manifest danger of consu­ming a great part of their time in idle and unprofitable, if not lewd and wicked imaginations; having little else to doe, the Devil or their own vain fancies will find work for them; and when conside­ration and argument alone are not able to drive out these wicked inward compa­nions, yet business will; and therefore I know nothing more advisable, than that we should be always stored with fit ma­terials, and subjects to exercise our thoughts upon, such as are worthy of a [Page 170]reasonable creature, that is endued with an immortal soul, that is to live for ever. Those who are most busie, yet have some little spaces and intervals of time in which they are not employed. Some mens bu­siness is such as though it employs their hands, and requires bodily labour, yet doth not much take up their thoughts, nor need their minds be very intent up­on it; now all such should constantly have in their minds a treasure of inno­cent or usefull subjects to think upon, that so they may never be at a loss how to employ their minds; for many of our evil thoughts are owing to this, that when our time hangs upon our hands, we are to seek what to think of. Let us therefore every one resolve thus with our selves, the first opportunity of leisure I have, the first vacant hour, I will set my self to consider of such or such a good sub­ject, and have this always in readiness to confront and oppose to any wicked or evil thoughts that may sue for entrance or admission; for if we doe thus, tempta­tions will always find our minds full and prepossessed; and it is an hard case if nei­ther the visible nor invisible world, nei­ther God's works, nor providences, nor [Page 171]word can supply us with matter enough for our thoughts, unless we feign extra­vagant conceits, or repeat our old sins in our minds, or tickle our selves with wild suppositions of things that never were, nor are ever like to be.

4. Another rule I would give is this, that we should live under the due awe of God's continual presence with us, and bear this always in our minds, that the pure and holy God, the judge of the world, be­fore whose impartial tribunal we must all shortly stand, is conscious to every se­cret thought and imagination that passes through our minds, and that he knows them altogether, that God is in us all, Ephes. 4.6. One God and father of all, who is above all, and through all, and in you all; that he is present in the most inward corners and recesses of our hearts and knows every one of those things that come into our minds. Now who of us is there but must confess, that if his thoughts were all known and open to other men, if his parents, his friends, his neighbours, or enemies could have certain cognizance of them, he should be infinitely more carefull about them than [Page 172]he is, should not allow himself that liber­ty and freedom which he now takes; should be as watchfull that his thoughts should appear to other men orderly, ra­tional and vertuous as he is now that his words and actions may be such? and while we profess to believe that the tran­scendent Majesty of Heaven and earth is acquainted with all our private conceits, is privy to all our wishes, desires and pur­poses, observes and takes notice of all the motions of our minds, and that at the last day he will bring every secret thing into judgment; are we not ashamed of shewing in his sight such folly, of com­mitting such wickedness in his presence? should we blush and be confounded to have but a mortal man certainly know all the childish, vain, wanton, lustfull thoughts that possess our minds, and is it nothing to us that the great God of Hea­ven and earth beholds and sees them all? Consider this then, O vain man, who pleasest thy self in thy own foolish con­ceits, with thinking how finely thou dost cheat the world, by a mask of Religion and godliness! consider, I say, that there is not an evil thought that ever thou ta­kest any pleasure and delight in, not an [Page 173]evil device or imagination of thy heart, but what is perfectly naked and open to that God with whom we have to doe. That he is with thee in the silent and dark night, when no other eye seeth thee, when thou thinkest thy self safe from all discovery, and that thou mayst then se­curely indulge thy own wicked appetites and corrupt inclinations; for the light and darkness are both alike unto God, he compasseth thy path and thy bed, he is acquainted with all thy ways. And the fre­quent consideration of these things would certainly produce a mighty awe in us, and a suitable care not willingly to enter­tain or cherish any such thoughts as we should be ashamed to have known to all the world, nor ever to suffer any other thoughts to take place or remain in our minds, than such as we should not blush to have written in our foreheads.

5. For the right government of your thoughts, let me recommend to you above all things serious devotion, espe­cially humble and hearty prayer to God Almighty. Man is compounded of two natures, a rational and spiritual, and a bodily; by our bodies we are joined to [Page 174]the visible corporeal world, by our souls we are allied to the immaterial invisible world: now as by our outward senses the intercourse and correspondence is main­tained between us and the corporeal world, so by our devotions chiefly our acquain­tance is begot and kept up with the spi­ritual world; when we lay aside all thoughts of this lower world, and the concerns of this life, and apply our selves to the Father of spirits, and make our humble addresses to him, we then more especially converse with him as far as this state will admit of; and the more fre­quently and constantly we doe this, the more we shall abstract our minds from these inferiour objects which are so apt to entangle our hearts, and take up all our thoughts, and shall make the things of the other world become more familiar to us; for when we betake our selves seri­ously to our prayers, we do then bid a­dieu to all that is visible and sublunary, and for that time endeavour to employ our minds wholly on what relates to ano­ther life; and therefore consequently the oftner we doe this, and the more hearty and serious we are in it, the more our minds will be used and accustomed to divine [Page 175]thoughts and pious meditations, and weaned from present sensible objects. E­very devout exercise conscientiously per­formed will season our spirits, and leave a good tincture upon them, and dispose us for worthy and excellent thoughts, it is like keeping of good company, a man is by degrees moulded and fashioned in­to some likeness unto them, and on the other side, the intermission, neglect or formal and perfunctory performance of our devotion, will soon breed in us a for­getfulness of God and heavenly things, as omitting to speak of an absent or dead friend, or neglecting to call him to our mind, by degrees wears him quite out of our thoughts and memory; so that you see a due sense of God upon our minds, and of those things that belong to our greatest interests, is by nothing so well maintained as by our constant devotion; this is like seeing our friends often, or conversing with them every day, it pre­serves acquaintance with them, it che­rishes our love and kindness towards them. I end all with that excellent Collect of our Church.

Almighty God, unto whom all hearts be o­pen, all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid: cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of thy holy spirit, that we may perfectly love thee, and worthily magnifie thy holy name, through Christ our Lord. Amen.

THE chief and most laudable de­sign of this and other the like Anniversary Meetings being to promote love, kindness and friendship a­mongst men, from the consideration of [Page 178]some particular relations, by which (over and above what doth belong to us in com­mon with all men and Christians) we are more nearly united and linked one to the other. I thought I could not en­tertain you with any thing more proper to this Solemnity, than a discourse upon these words, wherein I intend

I. To describe unto you wherein this amicable friendly temper and mutual love, which we are to further amongst our selves this day, doth consist. And

II. To recommend it especially to your care and practice, who have had the ad­vantage of a liberal and ingenuous edu­cation.

I. To shew you wherein true and un­dissembled love doth consist, which I shall do onely by paraphrasing or commenting as briefly as I can upon this most excel­lent description of Charity given us by St. Paul.

1. Charity suffereth long, is not hasty to return any evil or injury we may have received from others; it makes a man pa­tient, [Page 179]forgetfull of wrongs, and slow to demand satisfaction. He that is possessed with this excellent grace of charity will defer righting himself when injured, and seem for a great while as if he did not at all observe or take notice of those affronts and tre [...]asses, which the furious and wrathfull would be sure streight to re­venge. He doth not lie at catch, and presently take all advantages against his neighbour, and trouble him for every lit­tle offence, and require strict reparation for every petty damage he may unjustly sustain: he doth not take all forfeitures that the rigour of the law would give him, or stand with his debtours for a day, or streight break off friendship for the first unkindness; but he will for a long time bear with the failures and miscarriages of other men, as all of us do easily overlook and readily forgive the mistakes or mis­demeanours of those whom we entirely love; with great patience he waiteth their amendment, and silently tarries till of their own accord they make him sa­tisfaction, and is always willing to hear­ken to any fair terms of accommodation, and to accept of the least submission and acknowledgment.

Contrary to all this is the temper of those whom the Apostle calls fierce, and Solomon, hasty of spirit: who when once offended breath forth nothing but utter ruine and slaughter, and are for the pre­sent destruction of all who stand in their way. Thus David in that great fit of im­patience, 1 Sam. 25. when displeased at Nabal's surly answer, resolved streight to murther him and all his houshold; and so the Servant in the Parable of our Sa­viour, St. Matthew 18. who, though his Lord had forgiven him a vast debt of ten thousand talents, yet after this, when he met with one of his Fellow-servants who owed him but an hundred pence, laid violent hands on him, took him by the throat, would not tarry one hour for his money, notwithstanding the poor man humbly besought him to have patience with him but for a-while, and promised him he would honestly pay him all.

But a truly charitable man suffereth long, and forgiveth much, and dealeth with others as he hath experienced, and yet hopes God will deal with him; he giveth them time to recollect and bethink them­selves, [Page 181]doth not soon despair of their growing better, but tries all the arts and methods of patience and kindness, and is unwilling to be brought to extremities, or to doe any thing that may seem harsh or rigid; and in a word, had rather suf­fer an hundred than doe one evil.

2. Charity is kind, [...], gentle and courteous, easie to be treated with, is gratious and benign, and as far as may be, usefull to all. Christian charity doth sweeten mens minds and spirits, smooths the ruggedness and unevenness of their natures, makes them tractable, affable, and, as far as is consistent with their in­nocency, complaisant.

Contrary to which is that roughness and sourness of disposition and manners which is distastfull to, and grates upon every one that falls in its way; as it was said of Nabal before-mentioned, that he was such a son of Belial, that a man could not speak unto him: Such were the Pha­risees of old, grave, formal and morose, troublesome and uneasie to all who con­versed with them, sullen and froward. And too many such there are in the [Page 182]world, who pretend to great and high attainments in Religion, and yet are of such techy and fiery dispositions, that there is no living quietly by them; no­thing can please them, a man is afraid of having any thing to doe with them, they are of such waspish, quarrelsome and churlish natures.

Whereas he in whom Christian charity dwells endeavours to oblige every one, and carries himself fairly towards all, so as to gain every man's good word and opinion; he is calm and mild, and friend­ly in his deportment, receiveth every one that addresseth himself to him with civi­lity and respect; his demeanour is full of compliance and condescention, his car­riage and behaviour free, candid and in­genuous; and indeed there is no greater pleasure in the world than what is to be found in the conversation of those in whom the true Christian temper and spirit rules and prevails.

No one complains of such an one; he is not grievous or offensive to any, and if he cannot doe you all that courtesie you de­sire, yet he so civily denies you, that you [Page 183]are almost as much pleased as if he had granted your request. Charity is kind.

3. Charity envieth not; the charitable man grudgeth not at another's good, doth not mutter and repine because his neigh­bour thrives better, hath a greater trade, is of better repute, hath got a larger e­state, or hath arrived to greater dignity and preferment than himself. Charity rather rejoyceth and pleaseth it self in o­ther mens doing well; it addeth to a cha­ritable man's contentment to see other men satisfied, and doth really minister unto, and encrease his own happiness to see the happiness of his neighbours and acquaintance. He findeth almost as much delight and complacence in their good fortune and success as they themselves do, thus making the happiness of every man to become really and truly his own; it maketh him better to see other men in health, and refresheth his spirits to see o­thers chearfull and pleased. No real be­nefit or advantage happens to any round about him, but he comes in for his share, and largely partakes of it, and the plea­sure of it becomes as truly his, as it is the persons who is possessed of it.

Nay, as it hath been observed by some, here love hath the advantage. I enjoy greater pleasure in my neighbour's good success and prosperity than he himself can possibly do: for all the content and joy that his prosperity ministers to him, I have pure and unmixt, without bearing part in those cares and troubles with which it is usually attended.

Love makes us not apt to take disgust and pet, though God should bestow the good things of this life more liberally up­on some others than our selves, whereas the envious man would not have God doe any good turn for any person without his leave and approbation. He would alone engross and monopolize all the blessings of heaven and benefits of the earth, or at least, if he could have his will, none should partake of them but some private friends of his, and those he hath a good opinion of. He would have God mind no one else in the world, nor hear any other prayers besides his own; nay he reckons himself ill dealt with, and muti­nies against heaven if any thing goes be­side him, or any one enjoys something [Page 185]he is without. There is many a man in the world who thinks himself beyond all expression miserable, for no other reason but onely because another man is happy; the good things his neighbour enjoys eat up his flesh, dry up his marrow, and prey upon his spirits, make his eyes hol­low, his cheeks lean, his face pale, and his bones rotten. Hence it hath been observed that envious men are the onely persons to whom without form of justice or breach of charity we may doe harm; since to doe them hurt or mischief we need onely doe good to their neighbours. Love envieth not.

4. Charity vaunteth not it self, [...]. I shall not dispute the rigid meaning of the original word, but fol­low our translation of it; vaunteth not it self, is not insolent and domineering, and arrogantly imposing upon others, as if we onely were wise and worthy to be regarded; but it is modest and governa­ble, willing to yield, and comply, and submit to the judgment of others. This vaunting, foolish and giddy elation of the mind is the cause of manifold quarrels and disturbances in the world, when men [Page 186]malapertly take upon themselves to pre­scribe to others, and fondly expect that their singular humour onely should be ob­served, that their private will and fancy should stand for a rule and law to all o­thers, and that all men should accommo­date themselves to their idle conceits, fond prejudices, unreasonable customes or impertinent opinions.

Charity vaunteth not it self, and as it follows, is not puffed up, which is of near signification, and therefore may be joined with the former. Haughtiness and im­periousness of mind, proceeding from a too great love and opinion of our selves, doth especially shew it self in despising all others. Proud persons are so full of them­selves, so wrapt up in the vain contem­plation of their own perfections, that they slight and despise all the world; they look upon it as a disparagement to learn from any, they cannot bear the least contradiction or opposition, they take upon themselves to judge and condemn all others, and will allow none to pretend to wisedom or understanding besides them­selves. Any the least disrespect or over­sight, any failure of due observance and [Page 187]submission streight begets a quarrel; for they think themselves wronged, affron­ted, and unjustly dealt with, if every one does not value them just at the same rate they do themselves.

But now love makes us humble and lowly minded, teacheth us to value those accomplishments, to set a due price and estimate upon those abilities others are endued with, and not to magnifie our selves, or to think of our selves more high­ly than we ought to think: and therefore in Scripture, where the vertue of charity is commanded, humility is very often joined with it; Put on therefore bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind. Be ye kindly affectioned one towards another in brotherly love, in honour preferring one another, esteeming others better than your selves.

What we have a real kindness for is apt to appear to us in all circumstances better than indeed it is, and were our minds once throughly possessed with cha­rity towards others, we could not easily entertain any despicable and contemp­tible thoughts of them, but upon all oc­casions [Page 188]should bear a due regard and de­ference to them; and if this one effect of charity did but get ground in the world, if men were humble and modest, diffi­dent and distrustfull of themselves, wil­ling to learn, and receive instructions from others more learned and wiser than themselves, we might hope soon to see an end of those unchristian feuds and schisms which our Church is so miserably infe­sted with. But so long as men lean so much to their own understandings, and are swelled with such lofty conceits of their own abilities that they think they need no instruction; so long as they are so fond of their own private and singular opinions, as that they not onely resolve inflexibly to adhere to them themselves, but seek to impose them upon others, and fall out with all who are not of their mind and way, nay take upon them to pronounce every one damned who is not as fond of their childish conceits as them­selves are; what can we expect but strife and envying, contention, confusion and e­very evil work? Charity vaunteth not it self, is not puffed up.

5. Charity doth not behave it self un­seemly; [...] doth never use o­thers rudely in words or gestares, espe­cially not reproachfully; and thus it is fitly joined with what went before; con­tumelious behaviour being the natural ef­fect of pride and arrogance. We care not how we demean our selves towards those whom we despise and set at nought, we can hardly vouchsafe such a good look or a civil word: but now love giveth no abusive language, never casteth dirt in the face of any; it never endeavoureth to dishonour or disparage any ones per­son, but is respectfull to all however they differ from us; it can confute the errours of those whom we oppose without any opprobrious or disgracefull reflexions, and answer their arguments, and shew that they are in the wrong without revi­ling their persons, or calling them names. And it were well if this were regarded more than it is in our religious debates and controversies; if we would learn to differ from one another in our judgments and matters of opinion without virulent rai­ling, and taunting speeches, and unhand­some bespattering and exposing our ad­versaries, [Page 190]which one thing, if it were conscientiously observed, would go a great way towards the maintaining peace amongst us, notwithstanding our diffe­rent sentiments and apprehensions. The ill language which we give one another oftentimes doth set us at a greater di­stance, and more estrange our minds from one another, than all our different con­ceptions and judgments. Railing against those who dissent from us never yet made, nor is it likely ever to gain, any one con­vert or proselyte: men are naturally in­clined to suspect that to be a bad cause which needs such base and unmanly arti­fices to uphold it; and it is a shrewd sign that we want substantial reasons and ar­guments against any thing, when once we begin to scold and cry out with him in Lucian [...], thou cursed dam­ned villain, it is not so or so; but now love is not rude or clamorous, but pati­ently and calmly hears both sides, and so­berly and cooly debates the matter, and reasons meekly about things; it conside­reth more what it is that is spoken than who it is that speaks, it giveth no need­less provocation, it behaveth not it self unseently.

6. Charity seeketh not her own, A sel­fish, stingy and narrow spirit, when we care for none but our selves, and regard not how it fares with other men, so we do but live in ease and plenty our selves, is of all other things most contrary to that charity which our Saviour both by his doctrine and example hath taught and so earnestly recommended to us; love is not mercenary or self-seeking, it inclineth us to doe good to others, though we thereby receive not the least advantage to our selves, besides the plea­sure of doing it; if our hearts be full of true charity, it will never suffer us to be in quiet till we give it some vent, and will make us impatiently seek for oppor­tunities of exercising it; it will spend it self in laying out for others, so far is love from projecting gain or profit to it self by that kindness it doeth to others, that it is beneficent to the evil and unthank­full, to the indigent and those who are unable to make any requital; it teacheth us to lend not hoping to receive again, nay to doe good to those who return evil for it, so far is it from any base or selfish de­signs. 1 Cor. 10.24. Let no man seek his [Page 192]own but every man another's wealth; Chri­stian charity obligeth us to pursue the be­nefit and edification of others, though it be with some loss to our selves, and teacheth us willingly to suffer some detriment, ra­ther than omit a fair occasion of doing a publick good. We are not to please our selves, but rather to please our neigh­bour for his good, Rom. 15.1, 2. for this is the mind which was in Christ Jesus, who denied himself, nay laid down his life for the good of mankind.

Christians are or ought to be so closely linked together by this bond of charity that every one should be as solicitous and concerned for the good of other men as he is for his own. I am sure the love of the primitive Christians was so remarka­ble, and raised such an admiration even amongst their very enemies and persecu­tours, that it was a proverbial speech a­mongst the Gentiles, see how the Christi­ans love one another, what care do they take one of another? had they been all brethren according to the flesh, they could not more heartily have contrived nor more industriously advanced one a­nothers interest and welfare than they [Page 193]did: Was any one amongst them cast in­to prison, all the Christians of that place presently flocked to him to visit and re­lieve him? was any one visited with sick­ness, all the best and greatest personages did streight condescend to minister unto him in his weak estate? were any poor and in want, their straits and necessities were no sooner known than they were relieved? But what is now become of this brave and generous spirit? when in­stead of doing good unto, we devour and bite one another? charity seeketh not her own.

7. Charity is not easily provoked, [...], which differs from what we had before, it suffereth long, in this that the former especially respects revenge, but this the passion of anger, and though we may sometimes upon just occasions be displeased and offended, yet charity will teach us always to observe these two rules.

(I.) This excellent grace of charity will give us so much power and com­mand over our selves, as that we shall not be suddenly inflamed upon every [Page 194]slight inadvertency, mistake or misfor­tune of our brother; we shall not be ea­sily angred upon every little and trivial occason. A charitable man is not nice and delicate, apt to pick quarrels, to take fire and fall out into rage and passion up­on every cross accident or miscarriage; he is easie in his converse and deport­ment; and it is no difficult matter for a man to live with him without ever offen­ding him. But alas! how weak and im­potent are most of us in this case? how doth every little forgetfulness or negli­gence of a servant, inferiour or neigh­bour, the breaking of a glass, the loss of a trifle, discompose and ruffle our minds, and raise such storms and tumults in our breasts as require a great deal of time and trouble to lay and appease? we have but little kindness for those whom we cannot at all bear with; not onely charity but even common humanity requires this at our hands, that we should mutually pass by and overlook such little indiscretions, oversights, mistakes and inadvertencies, which we are all more or less subject un­to, and cannot live without.

(II.) When we have great and just cause of anger and offence given us, yet charity suffereth us not to fall into im­moderate passion, or to be transported by blind rage and fury beyond the bounds of reason and religion: it will se­cure us from all paroxysms of anger, for so the Greek word properly signifies: it will restrain that unruly and ungoverna­ble passion within its due bounds and measures, and keep it in some temper and moderation, and not suffer it to be­tray us into any unreasonable and rash actions, which end in shame and a bitter repentance. Our anger, how just soever, should never make us hurt or injure the person offending. It should never break out into fury, which is the short madness of a man; we should never be so far ex­asperated, as to suffer our passion to hur­ry us into any indecency or excess.

It is certainly as lawfull on some oc­casions to be angry, as it is to rejoice, grieve, pity, or exercise any other affec­tion of our minds: there is no passion implanted by God in man, but what was designed by our wise Maker for some [Page 196]good end, and whilst in the exercise thereof it is directed to that end, and kept within its due bounds and limits, subject unto and regulated by reason, the principal and imperial faculty of our souls, so far it is certainly harmless, nay usefull.

In truth, all the passions in themselves simply considered are neither good nor evil. Love, hate, hope, fear, joy, sor­row, and the rest, as they are parts of our nature, are things indifferent; but when they are fitly circumstantiated and ordered, they then become morally good, and are highly beneficial to us, and serve many excellent purposes: but when they are misplac'd or extravagant, when they command us, and are our masters, they then become morally evil, and the most troublesome things in the world both to our selves and others. We must take great care therefore to curb and bridle this passion of anger, to keep it under go­vernment, and not suffer it to dethrone our reason, or to hinder the free use of it, or to make us act any thing precipitant­ly, unadvisedly or foolishly. And this I think may be given as a certain rule [Page 197]whereby we may judge when our anger becomes sinfull and vitious, and doth transgress the limits of charity; namely, when it is raised to such an height, as that we have no perfect command over our selves, and cannot freely use or ex­ercise our reasons and understandings; when we drive on headlong, and the beast rides the man; when we doe we know not what, and repent of it after it is done; when our passion is got into the chair, and carries all before it; when our bloud boils, and our spirits are in a great fermentation, and we are so blinded with fury and rage that we know no diffe­rence between friend or foe, right or wrong, but are hurried on by the torrent of an impetuous passion to the commis­sion of the greatest outrages, to the most disorderly and unseemly actions: this is surely contrary to charity which is not easily provoked.

8. Charity thinketh no evil: is apt and ready to put the best and sairest interpre­tations upon all the actions of other men. Whatever vices other men are guilty of, love, if possible, will find out excuses and plead their pardon. It will be so far from [Page 198]aggravating those injuries which our neighbours may at any time have offer'd us, that it will set it self to find out some charitable construction or other, and be ingenious in devising apologies for them. It will put us in mind of the good offices they may sometimes have done us, rec­kon up the several kindnesses we may have formerly received from them, and make use of that as an argument to pre­vail with us more easily to pass by the wrong we now suffer. Love will be sure to alledge something or other in their fa­vour, sometimes their age, sometimes their ignorance, sometimes the sickness of their body, sometimes that of their mind: per­haps it was done by mistake, perhaps un­awares, against the mind and will of him who did it. Whatever mischief or da­mage we have received, yet perhaps it was never intended or designed, and it was done rather by chance, than out of any ill will: at least he was misinformed, he was in a great and violent passion, and much out of humour when he did it, and perhaps now is heartily sorry for what he has done, and is just coming to ask us forgiveness.

Love is not jealous or suspicious, doth not endeavour to blast mens good actions and reputations by imagining and surmi­sing some secret evil or bad design in them, but makes a favourable construc­tion, and a fair and candid interpretation of every thing, and always judgeth the best.

I know nothing more opposite to cha­rity than that detracting, censorious hu­mour which prevails so much in the world: when men rashly censure and condemn their neighbours without any just or probable grounds, and by vain sur­mises and ill-favoured constructions lessen the good they doe, and aggravate the evil; as thus, ‘Such an one is a very liberal and charitable man, and it must be ac­knowledged that he doth a great deal of good in the place where he lives; but I wish he be not vain-glorious in all this. I am much afraid he doth it onely to be seen of men. Another is indeed very serious and devout in the Church, but I doubt whether he be as honest at home. I can find no fault with such a neighbour, he is wholly [Page 200]blameless as to his outward conversa­tion, a good moral man, but I do not question but he hath some private haunts, he is onely a little more cun­ning and close than the rest of his neighbours.’ Thus do many men, who it may be are conscious to themselves that they have no true solid worth on which to bottom a reputation, seek to raise it on the ruine of other mens. Such as are bad themselves are apt to think all others so too, and to suspect that every one is an hypocrite and dissembler, who pretends to more honesty or religion than themselves. They cannot imagine that others, what­ever outward shew they may make, can really abstain from those pleasures and gratifications which they are so strongly inclined unto, and in which they find so much savour and relish. But love takes every thing by the best handle, and ne­ver judgeth nor suspecteth any man to be worse than his visible actions do declare him. Love thinketh no evil.

9. Charity rejoyceth not in iniquity, but in the truth. A charitable man is so far from rejoycing when others doe amiss, that he is passionately affected with sor­row [Page 201]for it. He is moved to as much pity and compassion, and feels as sensible a grief for the sins and follies of those a­mongst whom he dwells, as he doth for any temporal afflictions or bodily calami­ties that do at any time befall them. He longeth for the salvation of all men, and nothing can trouble him more than to see men needlesly and foolishly destroying and undoing themselves, when by the Religion they profess they enjoy so many and such fair opportunities of making themselves for ever happy. But he rejoyceth in the truth. Nothing pleaseth him so much as to see goodness and truth prevail and in­large their dominions, and become pros­perous and triumphant in the world. He joineth with the heavenly host at the conversion of every sinner in their hymns of praises and allelujahs, and heartily blesseth the divine goodness for those graces and excellent dispositions and qualities he finds others endued with.

How far then are they from charity to whom it is meat and drink to hear a bad story of their neighbour? who watch for mens halting, make sport with their [Page 202]sins, and take great pleasure and delight in publishing the guilt and shame of o­thers: who gad from house to house, and run into all companies on no other errand but to proclaim and divulge such failings and imperfections as they know their neighbours are guilty of; who cu­riously pry into mens actions on purpose to spy out some faults, and then severely comment and criticise upon them; and whereever they come, make them the subject of their impertinent and unsa­voury prattle. But the Apostle farther adds,

10. Charity beareth all things. The words in the original are [...], which are here badly rendred. It should be, as almost all Interpreters do agree, covereth and concealeth all things. Cha­rity chuseth rather to hide and cast a veil over the sins and faults of others, than to trumpet and proclaim them. A charitable man is not wanting in his du­ty to warn and rebuke those whom he knows guilty of any notorious sins, but then he doth it secretly and in private: before others he chuses rather to take no­tice of what is good and commendable [Page 203]in men, than of what is faulty: he never speaks ill of any man behind his back, but rather if possible finds something or other to commend him for. There is hardly any man so wicked, so much en­slaved to baseness and villany, but he hath some good quality or other, and this charity will be sure to lay hold on, and improve to his advantage: not that we are bound to commend any one false­ly, or may not speak the truth of a per­son, when it is for his own or other mens advantage that it should be discovered; but charity obligeth us to give a favoura­ble character of others, and to represent them, as much as may be, to advantage; and to take all opportunities to commend them, rather than needlesly to vilify and disparage them, and speak all the evil we know of them.

There are many who are always com­plaining of the looseness and prophaneness of the age, of the sins and debaucheries of the times they live in, and under this pretence they grievously slander, back­bite and calumniate their neighbours, and take all occasions to rip up and lay open their faults, and with great study [Page 204]and artifice publish their disgraces; and this they doe with great demureness and turned-up eyes, as if they were mightily concerned for the honour of God and Re­ligion, and were heartily troubled and grieved to hear or report such shamefull and scandalous things, and thus when they have vented a most cursed malitious lye, with the woman in the Proverbs, they wipe their mouths and say they have done no wickedness, and would have you impute it wholly to their zeal, and not to their malice. This I cannot better re­present unto you than by translating the words of an ancient Father, who thus de­scribes some in his days.

[There are, saith he, who shall endea­vour to shadow and disguise the malice and ill-will they have conceived against any sort of persons or company of men with the false colour of zeal for the glory of God, and sorrow for the wickedness of the times; and then looking very sad­ly and premising a deep sigh, with a de­jected countenance and dolefull voice, they vent their lies and slanders; and therefore, saith he, they doe all this, that they may the more easily persuade those [Page 205]who hear them of the truth of what they relate; that the story may be the sooner believed, and more readily swallowed, as seeming to be uttered with an unwil­ling mind, and rather with the affection of one that condoles, than any fetch of malice: I am grievously sorry for it, saith one, for I love the man well, he is one of excellent parts, and hath many things ve­ry laudable in him, but— and then he ag­gravates this particular sin (whether tru­ly or falsly imputed to him it matters not) to the highest degree: Another tells you, I knew so much of him before, but it should never have gone farther for me, but now seeing the matter is out (though perhaps he was the first broacher of it) he shakes his head and lifts up his eyes and tells you it is indeed too true; he speaks it with grief of heart, and then tells it in every company he comes in, but adds it is great pity, he otherwise excells in many things, but in this he cannot be excused.] Thus far my Authour.

There is, saith Solomon, Prov. 12.18. that speaketh like the piercings of a sword, and Prov. 18.8. the words of a tale-bearer are as wounds, and they go down into the [Page 206]innermost parts of the belly: Curse the whisperer and double tongued, for such have destroyed many that were at peace, saith the son of Syrach: This if any thing is point blank contrary to charity, for love covereth all sins, Prov. 10.12. Chari­ty hideth all things.

11. Yet farther, Charity believeth all things, hopeth all things. It maketh us to believe all the good of others we have the least probable ground for, and to hope that which we have no reason to believe. We very easily believe those things to be, which we before-hand wish were true, and therefore charity being a wishing well to all men, must needs incline us to believe well also of them: this daily ex­perience tells us, that where we love, there we are very unapt to discern faults, though never so plain and obvious to the impartial and disinterested; witness the strange blindness men generally have to­wards their own, though never so gross and foolish. The judgment of charity is very large and comprehensive, it takes in all, and believes well of every one who continues within the pale of the Christian Church, doth never presume to judge [Page 207]mens hearts, or pry into their secret in­tentions.

Nay, where there is some reason to doubt of a man's truth and sincerity, yet charity hopeth the best. It despairs of no man's repentance and salvation, but en­tertains some hopes that even the worst of men, the most refractory and disobe­dient will at length amend and grow wi­ser. Whoever sins, charity hopes it is out of weakness, or surprise, or inadver­tency, and not out of wilfulness or habi­tual custome: whoever mistakes charity hopes the errour proceeds from ignorance onely, or unavoidable prejudice, or un­happy education, and not from a bad and wicked mind, or from any worldly sen­sual interest. And in this particular is the charity of our Church much to be com­mended, who contents her self with pro­pounding an undoubted safe way to Hea­ven without passing any reprobating sen­tences and anathema's on all other Chur­ches and societies of professours, and ex­cluding them from all hope of mercy or possibility of salvation. And indeed it concerneth us all to take great care right­ly to discharge this office of charity, since [Page 208]according as we judge others, so shall we our selves be judged; it is our interest as well as our duty to be very mild and mercifull in our censures of others, and to judge of them with favour and allow­ance, since with what measure we measure unto others, it shall be measured unto us again.

12. Lastly, charity endureth all things; never will be wearied or tired out; is not fickle and wavering; thinks nothing too much to doe, nothing too great to un­dertake, nothing too hard to undergo for the good of others. Love sticks not at any thing, nay makes any duty or la­bour easie and pleasant; as Jacob after his disappointment grudged not to serve the other seven years for the sake of Ra­chel. Love is strong as death, many wa­ters cannot quench it, nor the flouds drown it; nothing can allay the heat of its en­deavours, or stop its progress; it easily surmounts all difficulties, and triumphs over all opposition: though we meet with great ingratitude, contradiction and un­worthy returns from those whom we have obliged, yet love is not apt to re­pent of the good it hath done, but still [Page 209]perseveres, endeavouring to overcome e­vil with good, unkindnesses with courte­sies. Love doth not invent excuses or seeek delays when a fair occasion of ex­ercising it self is offered; it makes us willing for some time to leave our own business, though of near concernment to us, to expose our selves to heat and cold, to wearisome and painfull journies, to deny our selves our own ease, and plea­sure, and profit in some measure, rather than to forfeit an opportunity of shewing a great kindness. Charity endureth all things.

This now is that affection of love which we ought to bear one towards another: this is that kind, benign and gratious tem­per which manifests us to be the children of God, and to partake of his nature, and to be like unto him who is good and doth good, which shews us to be the followers of our Saviour in deed and in truth, who went about doing good, and which alone can fit us for that Kingdom wherein true love, undisturbed peace and universal cha­rity dwells and reigns for evermore.

To convince you of the necessity of this frame and temper of spirit, let me onely [Page 210]put you in mind of what St. Paul saith in the beginning of this Chap. that though a man should be able to speak with the tongues of men and angels, had the gift of all lan­guages, and could discourse with the greatest eloquence and efficacy, yet with­out this charity he would be but as soun­ding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. Though a man had the gift of prophecy, and could foretell things to come, were inspired from above, and were able to convert o­thers to the Faith, and propagate the Christian Religion in the world; though he could understand all mysteries, ex­pound all Scripture, and give an account of the most difficult and sublime truths, and had all knowledge and all faith, nay the highest degree of that faith by which miracles are wrought, so that he could remove mountains, yet without this affec­tion of sincere love he would be nothing worth; nay though a man should part with his whole estate, and bestow all his goods to feed the poor, though he should exercise the highest acts of bounty and liberality; nay, lastly, though he should give his body to be burned for his religion, and die a martyr for the faith of Jesus Christ, yet if he hath not charity, if he [Page 211]cannot patiently bear and pardon injuries and affronts, if he delights not to doe good, and rejoyceth not in the happiness of other men, if he be envious, and ma­litious and implacable, of a narrow con­tracted spirit, it profiteth him nothing.

II. I onely beg your patience whilst in a very few words I recommend this more excellent way, as St. Paul calls it, this spirit of love to you especially who have enjoyed the advantages of a liberal and ingenuous education. And if ever I could hope to prevail and persuade, I should certainly expect no little success in such an assembly as this, consisting of persons well taught and bred, whose na­tures have been refined and polished, and minds improved and cultivated, and new­moulded and fashioned by the care and skill of those excellent persons to whose charge we were committed.

I think it ought not over-slightly to be taken notice of, that in such an age as this, there are yet so many persons of fashion and quality who are not ashamed to own their education, and therefore may be reasonably thought yet sensible of [Page 212]the benefits that may have accrued to them from it. I say, in such an age as this, wherein the first thing almost that Gentlemen affect, after they have once got free from under the discipline of o­thers, is presently to forget all they have learned, and to erase out of their minds all the sober counsels and usefull rules they had before received, huffing at all instruction as a piece of pedantry, fit onely for children in coats, or fools, and freely revenging themselves on their Schoolmasters and Tutours, for attemp­ting to make them wise and good against their wills.

But notwithstanding this, I must say, that by our thus meeting together we do but little credit either to our selves or the School where we were brought up, or the persons under whose feet we sate, un­less we also clearly discover to the world in our temper and conversation some­thing excellent and singular that may distinguish us from the rude untutoured vulgar, the ignorant and illiterate rout.

Were that onely good breeding which is now most fashionable, and doth in or­dinary [Page 213]account pass amongst us for such, I should very freely acknowledge it a blessing not much to be valued or regar­ded. To move ones leg and body grace­fully and in time, to bow and cringe in mood and figure; to wear cloaths most exactly made according to the newest mode; to be able to speak of the French Court, and to repeat the witty part of a Play, and to talk finely of love and ho­nour, and make smart reparties; and to give every one good words without meaning any thing at all by them; to know how to embroider a discourse with many oaths and a little Atheism; to be able to drink high, and hector loudly; to abuse a Parson, and to dare to kill a man; these and such others not worth naming are too often now a-days repu­ted the onely gentile accomplishments of a well-bred person?

But these are not the things we learnt at St. Paul's School, nor is this the educa­tion which we now assemble in God's House to bless his name for. Those are truly well bred, not onely whose under­standings and discerning faculties are im­proved and inlarged, but especially whose [Page 214]natural rudeness and stubbornness is bro­ken, and wild and unruly passions ta­med; whose affections and desires are made governable and orderly; who are become manageable and flexible, calm and tractable, willing to endure restraints and to live according to the best rules. By good education we are, as it were, made over again, the roughness of our natural tempers is filed off, and all their defects supplied; and by prudent disci­pline, good example and wise counsel our manners are so formed, that by the benefit of an happy education we come almost as much to excell other men, as they do the brute beasts that have no understanding.

How much therefore we are obli­ged to our School, we can no better way shew than by our civil and comely de­meanour, by our compliant and inoffen­sive conversation, by our courteous and affable, sweet and benign disposition, by our kind, usefull and sociable behaviour in the world.

If we consult the sober judgments of all men, we shall soon find that there is [Page 215]nothing renders a man more respected, his company more pleasant and delight­full and desirable, nothing procures grea­ter credit and reputation, and sooner ob­tains the good word of every one, than a free, ingenuous, candid and condescen­ding temper, that studies to oblige, and rejoices to doe good; That there is no­thing more noble and generous than an universal love and good-will to all men; nothing more amiable than mildness, peaceableness and gentleness of spirit; nothing more gracefull and gentile than kindness and benignity; nothing more honourable and manly than being usefull and beneficial to all round about us.

And these are indeed qualities and per­fections hardly attainable (as a wise man expresses it) by those who hold the plough, and glory in the goad; who drive oxen, and are occupied in their labours; and whose talk is of their bullocks; who give their mind to make furrows, and are diligent to give the kine fodder. These are above the reach of the smith who sitteth by the Anvil, and considereth the iron-work; the vapour of the fire wasteth his flesh, and he fighteth with the heat of the furnace: the [Page 216]noise of the hammer and the anvil is ever in his ears, and his eyes look still upon the pattern of the thing be maketh. Vulgar and undisciplined minds are not capable of such noble principles, and worthy in­clinations.

If we indulge our furious and intem­perate appetites, and blind and impotent passions; if we are apt to pick quarrels, and delight in feuds and broils, if we al­low our selves to rail and give ill lan­guage; if we are rude and saucy in our behaviour towards others, or practise any of the mean arts and methods of de­traction: we basely unman and degrade our selves, and offer an affront to that li­beral education which hath been bestow­ed upon us, and equal our selves to the vulgar rout: for where are such qualities as these to be found but amongst clowns and beggars, amongst the savage and un­bred? Such accomplishments as these be­fit onely hostlers and porters: they are most highly distastfull to all company, and productive of aversation and disre­spect. In a word, if you would excell others in point of true worth and excel­lency, endeavour to get your souls pos­sessed [Page 217]with this divine grace of charity, which is the onely thing that doth truly ennoble a man, that doth exalt and dig­nify his nature, and raise him above the rest of his fellow-creatures.

I Shall not now trouble you with en­quiring into the strict meaning of these words, as uttered by the Pro­phet Balaam; but I shall consider them onely as they are commonly understood, [Page 220] viz. as containing in them the secret wish and desire of most wicked and ungodly men; who, though they are loth to be at the pains of living the life, yet would fain die the death of the righteous, and would gladly that their latter end should be like his. As well as men love their sins, yet they would not willingly be damned for them. They can't endure to think seriously of passing out of this World in an impenitent state. For it is what but a very few can arrive unto, wholly to shake off, or wear out all sense of good and evil, of reward and punish­ment. The fears of another World will ever and anon be stirring and erowding themselves in, and will fret and gall the Sinner sorely, and make his thoughts troublesome to him. An uneasie bed, a broken sleep, a sudden affliction, an hand-writing on the wall, will sometimes force us, whether we will or no, to smite upon our breasts, and reflect sadly upon our past dishonourable misdeeds and the satal issue of them; and very often our own conscience will fly in our face, notwithstanding all our arts to di­vert it, or our charms to lull it asleep; nor could a wicked man ever be at quiet [Page 221]in his mind, but that he is resolved by God's grace, when time shall serve, to doe something or other, he doth not well know what or when, whereby he may obtain pardon for all the follies and mis­carriages of his life past.

I am very confident I now represent to you the secret mind of most wicked Christians who at any time think seri­ously, viz. that that which makes them so hardy and stupidly neglectfull of their immortal concerns, and so jocund and pleasant whilst they live in plain known sins, is this, that they promise them­selves, and depend on God's goodness for time and opportunity of making amends in a lingring sickness, or in a declining age. They are now young and health­full, strong and lusty, their pulse beats evenly, their bloud moves briskly, their spirits are active and subtile, and they feel no symptoms of any approaching sickness. Hereafter therefore they think it will be time enough to look after ano­ther life, when they shall be nigh leaving this, when their bodies shall begin to de­cline, and their strength to decay, and death shall make its approaches.

Thus there are as it were two ways propounded to Heaven; one, (and that is counted a very dull, tedious and diffi­cult passage,) by the constant doing of good, by living righteously and godlily and soberly in this present world. The other, (which is a shorter cut, and a much broader way;) by repenting at our death of a wicked life: and it is not at all hard to guess which way the greatest part of men will chuse.

And would this doe, it were indeed a ve­ry fine and subtile management of things: for thus we might swallow the bait, and never be hurt by the hook: we might have both the pleasure of being wicked, and the hopes of being saved. We might spare our selves all the trouble of Reli­gion, and yet not miss of the reward of it. We might spend all our days as we list, gratify every vain humour and appetite, enjoy this world as much as we can, deny our selves nothing that our lusts and passions crave, live all our life long without God in the world, and yet at last die in the Lord.

The great enemy of mankind hath not in all his magazine a more deadly engine for the destruction of souls. Nor is there any thing I know of, that doth so noto­riously frustrate and defeat the whole de­sign of our Saviour's coming into the world, and render our Christianity so useless to us, as this one presumption, that the whole of Religion, or all that is necessary to salvation, may be performed upon a sick or death-bed. For if it may be done as well at the last, in good truth what need we trouble our selves about it sooner? what need we disquiet our selves in vain about the exercises of vertue and piety, or forego the sweet pleasures of this life, or constantly maintain a pain­full and ungratefull conflict with the in­clinations and inordinate cravings of our flesh, or renounce our secular interests, or undertake a sharp and troublesome ser­vice, whenas it is but at any time lamen­ting over our sins, and trusting to the performances of Jesus Christ, and we shall be as secure of Paradise, as if we had all our days kept a conscience void of offence both towards God, and towards all men? and in so doing shall run no other [Page 224]hazard but that of dying suddenly, which doth not happen to one man in five hun­dred.

Eternal bliss and happiness is a thing of so very great and weighty consideration, of such vast moment to us, that to put off the thoughts thereof, or provision for it, but one day (after that we are become capable of thinking and acting like men) is certainly a very great and unaccounta­ble indiscretion; but for a man to give all his days to himself, and to his own plea­sure and humour, and to reserve for God, for whose service he was born, but one, and that the worst and the last, This is surely madness beyond all measure.

The extreme folly and danger of such practices I shall now indeavour to evince, by shewing briefly these three things.

I. How little all that amounts to which can be done by a wicked man in order to the obtaining the pardon of his sins on a sick or death-bed.

II. How far short all this comes of what the holy Scriptures require as the indispensable conditions of salvation.

III. What small hopes or encourage­ment God hath any where given men to believe that he will at all abate or remit of those conditions he hath propounded in the Gospel, or accept of any thing less than a good life.

I. How little all that amounts to which can be done by a wicked man on his sick or death-bed. Now some at this time can doe more, some less, according as God affords them space and ability; but ordinarily the whole of a death-bed repentance is no more than a few good words and wishes, a superficial confession of sin and wickedness in general, some broken prayers and pious expressions to the Minister, (who then shall be sure to be sent for in all haste, however despised by the sinner all his life-time before) and perhaps receiving the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, (which he never thought of, nor ever would trouble himself about whilst he was well and in health,) toge­ther [Page 226]with a legacy of his ill-gotten goods to charitable uses; and this in common esteem is making a good Christian end; and such an ones condition, whatever his life hath been, is thought fair and hopefull.

But I am willing in the handling of this subject to allow to the dying penitent all the advantages imaginable, and to consi­der his repentance in the best circumstan­ces, and therefore I shall not instance in such as are violently snatch'd and sudden­ly hurried out of the world in the midst of their wickedness, and have hardly time so much as to beg mercy at God's hands; nor yet in those who are taken with such diseases as render them unca­pable of any wise or rational thoughts, though this is a case that often happens in the world; for there is many a man who intends when he comes to die to re­pent, that is, to call to mind all his wicked ways, and to be extremely sor­rowfull for them, and at last it proves that his sickness is of that sort as utterly to take away all his memory and under­standing: and when he is to look back, and seriously to consider how he has li­ved, [Page 227]alas! he remembers not one thing good or bad that he ever said or did. He has pitched upon and fixed a time where­in to fit himself for another world, and for his long home; and when that time is come, his distemper proves such, that he knows nothing of his going, or that he is now upon his journey. And as he li­ved like a fool all his life long, so now when he designed to die very piously and wisely, perhaps he dies raving mad. But I shall omit these and the like considera­tions, (though indeed all those who are so daring and intolerably venturesome as absolutely to resolve to continue in all ungodliness till they come to die, ought reasonably to expect that God should in his justice cut them off without allowing them either the opportunity or means of repentance:) and instead thereof shall rather put the case of one who dies lei­surely and by degrees, who retains his memory and understanding to the last, and is able in some measure to reckon up and recount all his former wickednesses; and I shall consider what such an one can doe towards the securing his everlasting salvation.

1. He may be most passionately sor­rowfull for what he hath done amiss, so that the remembrance of his evil ways may become very bitter and grievous to him, but yet it is hard to think for all this that his mind should on a sudden be really altered; for I speak now of such as have all along pleased and de­lighted themselves in sin and vanity, who have fortified themselves with all the arguments for vice and irreligion, who have cherished the most contempti­ble thoughts of, and hated nothing so much as piety and vertue; now is it like­ly that of a sudden such mens judgments and opinions concerning the worth, va­lue and goodness of things should be so wonderfully changed, that they should be able so immediately to lay aside all their former prejudices against the rules of goodness and righteousness, and to be reconciled in a moment to what they have so long declared open enmity a­gainst? that just a little before they die they should become as absolutely of ano­ther mind, and as clearly of another persua­sion as if they were in truth other men? It argues greater command over our selves [Page 229]than we should now find, should we try the same thing, for a man to think, believe judge and act quite contrary to what he hath thought, believed and done for for­ty, or fifty, or sixty years: so that in truth this grief and sorrow that now pos­sesses the dying penitent, is no other than that of every common malefactour who when he is ready to receive that punish­ment which he hath deserved, is then very angry and displeased with himself for what he hath done, and yet were he set free, would not stick, the next fair opportunity, to commit the same crime again that he is now condemned for; he is sorry not that he sinned, but that he cannot escape suffering for it; it trou­bleth him not so much that he hath been so evil, as that he fears God will prove just and true to his word; it wounds him to the heart to think that he can now sin no longer, that all the pleasure of it is past, and that nothing now remains but a sad reckoning and account; but yet he could still applaud himself in the remem­brance of his former extravagancies, were he sure that God would forget them; so that it is no thanks to wicked men though they are mightily confounded at the sense [Page 230]of their guilt when they come to die, and see hell gaping before them just rea­dy to devour them; those fears and hor­rours that they at such times feel, are very often but some flashes of those flames that are just ready to catch hold of them; and if such a sorrow be repentance, they shall then sadly repent to all eternity.

2. If the dying penitent proceeds still farther, most earnestly and affectio­nately to beg God's pardon for the sake of Christ Jesus, pleading his merits and satisfaction; what doe they but mock God, (to use the words of a great Scholar and Courtier) who think it enough to ask him forgiveness with the remainder and last drawing of a malitious breath? for what doe they otherwise, that die this kind of well dying, but say unto God, we beseech thee, O Lord, that all the falshood, for­swearing and treacheries of our life past may be pleasing to thee, and acceptable in thy sight, that thou wilt for our sakes (who have had no leisure to doe any thing for thine) change thy nature, and forget to be a just God, that thou wouldest love in­juries and oppressions, call ambition wise­dom, and charity foolishness; certainly, [Page 231](as he concludes) they who depend upon such prayers have either found out a new God or made one. Nay,

3. Should he back his prayers with re­stitution of all that he hath gotten unjust­ly, and with charity to the poor, and forgiveness of all the injuries he hath re­ceived from other men; these indeed had been excellent beginnings of a new life, had they been done in time, but what vertue or praise can there be in restoring that which we cannot possibly detain any longer? in giving away that which we must necessarily part with? and as for pardoning injuries received, alas! what is all this when we speak of wicked and unreasonable men, who in their life time take present pay, immediate re­venge? such people talk of forgiving in­juries, whenas there is not one injury done to them that they have not a great while agoe fully returned, there is no­thing behind hand or due to them, in that kind; they have had the spite and all the pleasure of revenge already, and now af­ter that they would freely forgive and die in charity.

4. Lastly, The utmost and greatest thing that the sick or dying sinner can doe is to make strong, and as to his pre­sent meaning, most sincere resolutions a­gainst his former evil courses, and for walking in all vertue and godliness, should God continue his life; and this is that which men usually trust unto in this ex­tremity, they hope God will accept of the will for the deed, and that such unfeigned resolutions shall pass for repentance.

Now here I would desire you seriously to consider, that there is nothing in the world more easie than to resolve well, especially when we are under any fear or fright, that there is not any thing, how­ever difficult or ungratefull, or even im­possible, that men will not readily pro­mise to perform if thereby they may but deliver themselves from a pressing and imminent danger; for our minds being then wholly prepossest with the great sense of the danger we are in, we weigh not at all the difficulties or inconvenien­ces of what at such a time we undertake or engage our selves to doe; but yet how hard do we by daily experience find [Page 233]it to keep close and constant to those re­ligious resolutions which we make even in the time of our health and vigour, and that upon the most serious delibera­tion? And how many have we known in the world, who when they lay on their sick beds, and were under the fears and apprehensions of death have by the most solemn vows, and those no doubt as to the present sense of their minds, sincere, obliged themselves to walk in better ways, and professed that they de­sired to live for no other end but onely to testifie the reality of their intentions by their future obedience; who yet, as soon as ever they have been restored to health, have presently returned like the dog to the vomit, or the sow to the wallowing in the mire? Then is the time of making good and lasting resolutions of living well, when we can examine indifferently, and determine impartially, when our judg­ments are good, and our passions are quiet; but all the purposes of sick men are most commonly like the vows of a mariner in a great tempest, which vanish away and are forgotten upon the clearing of the Skie and altering of the weather; their mind changes with [Page 234]their bloud, and varies with their pulse, and all their good purposes are purged a­way with the dregs of their distemper. And thus it is easie to observe that the un­godly man's resolutions are just according to the degrees of danger that he is in; so long as there are brisk hopes of recovery, his intentions of amendment are weak and slender, but as death comes nigher and nigher, his resolutions increase and get strength, and when at last he sees it is very unlikely he should live any longer, then he resolves soundly and stoutly to live better; the plain meaning of which is this, he promises and vows to doe that which according to his own fears and o­pinion is impossible to be done; and can we think that God will accept of a pur­pose, (let it be never so sincere) of li­ving well, which is founded upon no o­ther consideration or motive but onely this, that I verily believe my life is now all done? a resolution that is so far from being likely to hold, that it is most reaso­nable it should not; for if I once am likely to live longer, the reasons why I thus re­solved do then cease, and I may upon as good grounds, and with as great security as ever go on in my former sins.

But farther, the dying man resolves to leave all his sins, but, alas, they are not so easily parted with! he hath entertai­ned and cherished them for a long time, and they are not now so quickly to be rooted out; for it takes even good men many months and years, a great part of their time spent in most hearty and fre­quent begging the divine assistance, and in calling together all the arguments ima­ginable, and using their utmost strength of mind to conquer and subdue but some one unreasonable passion or desire; and wicked men in their life time complain enough of the difficulty of this; what more common with them than to say that it is impossible to resist the allurements of good company, or the charms of beauty, or the temptations of gain and honour? nay, do they not often try to excuse themselves in many sins, by pleading that they are so used to them that they cannot possibly leave them? as for in­stance, that they swear before ever they think of it, that they can't keep down their passion when provoked, that they have tried to break off some lewd cu­stomes, and have prevailed for a while, [Page 236]but that then they have returned upon them with greater violence, and yet now when they come to die how easie is all this? a good resolution and a few pray­ers shall doe all this great work in a trice, and an hour or a day shall vanquish all sin in general, and at once, so as that the man shall become fitted to stand before God.

When therefore men make such reso­lutions of amendment, they resolve they know not what, for it is a work of great time and patience, it requires long con­sideration, assiduous watchfulness and un­wearied diligence, to extirpate those in­veterate habits which by a long wicked life we have contracted, and to mortifie those lusts that have been so long used to tyrannize and domineer over us; this must be done by degrees and successively, by first conquering one vice, then ano­ther; there is very little trust or heed there­fore to be given to such hasty resolves, violently extorted from us by a great and present fear; and after all let them be never so honest and strong, yet still there is a great difference between doing a thing, and onely resolving in our minds [Page 237]to doe it, and why should that be thought sufficient to save us at the last gasp, which all grant is not sufficient to put us into a state of salvation whilst we continue well and in health? But wishes and purposes made in the time of our life and strength do not alone make a bad man good, why then should they alone be sufficient on our death-bed? in a word, a man that professeth himself a scholar, but who hath spent all his days in idleness, and made no improvement of his mind or rea­son, and onely at last resolves to study hard, should God spare his life, may as well and properly be said to have died a learned man, as one who being by profession Christ's disciple hath lived wickedly and unworthily all his days, and onely at last just before he dies resolves to amend his life, can ever on that account be thought to have passed out of this world a good Christian. Which leads me to the second thing.

II. To consider how far short all this comes of what the holy Scriptures require as the indispensable conditions of salvati­on; for should all this that I have now rehearsed, and whatever else can be ad­ded [Page 238]to it which a wicked man may doe upon his death-bed, should it all amount to repentance, yet where in the mean time is obedience to all the laws of the Gospel?

As for those indeed who in the sinceri­ty of their heart have done God's will, their repentance shall be accepted for what they have fallen short in, or those few things they have miscarried and transgressed in, and which the best of us all have need to lament over; but I can­not think that a short repentance at last was ever intended to answer for an univer­sal disobedience and a whole life of wic­kedness; for repentance from dead works and resolutions of a godly life, are requi­red as a preparative for Christianity, and are therefore accounted necessary in a­dult persons even before their Baptism; but then by our Christian profession, which we take upon us in Baptism, we are obliged to more, viz. to a new life and all manner of purity and righteous­ness; and therefore to hope to be happy in another world without living well here is against our own very bargain, and that agreement and covenant which we made [Page 239]with God in our baptism, wherein we expresly promised to walk in God's holy Commandments all our days: and there­fore this keeping God's commands must be as necessary for the obtaining the re­ward, as sorrow for, or forsaking of our sins.

This I shall illustrate briefly thus. The ways of vertue and righteousness, and of sin and wickedness, are not like two roads that lie nigh or parallel one to the other, so that with ease, and in a little time, a man may step out of one into the other; but they are perfectly oppo­site, and directly contrary to each other. Suppose that a man for a great reward be obliged in one day, between Sun-rising and Sun-setting, to travel so many miles Northward, and moreover by a solemn oath (as all Christians are to the practice of Christianity) engaged to the perfor­mance of it; but that the man freely presuming he hath time enough to doe this in, doth not set out at the first rising of the Sun, but loiters and trifles away all his time; nay, not onely so, but that for his pleasure, or some little convenience, he travels the quite contrary way, and [Page 240]goes Southward; and finding that road very smooth, broad, and full of compa­ny and diversion, is by any little tempta­tions drill'd on still farther in it, wholly forgetting his bargain; till on a sudden the Sun is just ready to set, night comes on a-pace, and then the wretch begins to consider how much he is out of his way, and finds himself weary and tired, and unfit for travel, and curseth his own folly, and promiseth if he were to begin again, he would go directly to the place commanded, but by that time he hath thus resolved, the Sun is set, shall this man now obtain the promised reward? Alas! before he can challenge that, he must first return back all the way he hath gone, even to the point from whence he first set out, and also after that will have his whole days journey still to go, and all that task to doe which he at first engaged himself to perform; so a wicked man up­on his death-bed is not onely to unravel all his former works, to break off all his lewd customs, to mortify all his foolish passions and unruly lusts, to forsake all his deadly sins, and to repent of his past ill-spent life, but he is then to live a new life, he is then to accustome himself to [Page 241]the practice of goodness, and to make it habitual to him; his mind is then to be furnished with all Christian vertues and graces, he hath his whole race still to run, and his salvation still to work out; and is the least part of this possible to be done on a languishing bed of sick­ness?

Had we made Religion the business of our whole lives, and in every thing exer­cised our selves to keep a conscience un­blameable; yet at such a time, when we come to die, we should find work and duty enough to employ us to the utmost: To manage our selves well and decently and as becomes Christians in such a con­dition, patiently to bear our affliction, chearfully to submit to God's will, to beg pardon of our manifold failings and miscarriages, readily to leave this world, and all that is dear to us in it, at his call: these and many other are the exercises of a Christian on the bed of sickness. And how few are there in those agonies that are able to bear up with any tolerable manhood or courage? and therefore we do not ordinarily account him a wise man that will leave so much as his [Page 242]worldly affairs then to be setled. How then, besides taking care of all these things at a time, when our very na­tural powers and faculties are disabled, when our bodies are full of pain, and our minds full of distractions and perplexi­ties, shall we be able also to doe all that work, for which our whole life is little enough, and for which alone we were born into this world? and this the Devil subtilly foresees, that if he can but prevail with men to put off the care of Religion till a sick bed, he shall find othergess em­ployment for them then. He will not fail to be present at such an opportunity; and as before in their life-time he told them it was too soon, so now he will himself suggest to them that it is too late to repent and turn to God.

Ye therefore that are apt to defer your repentance till a death-bed, condescend sometimes to visit your sick neighbours and friends: look on their condition when they lie on their dying bed; and by it judge whether that be a fit time to doe so great a work in; see how troubled and disturbed their thoughts are, how uneasie and distempered their minds are as well [Page 243]as their bodies, how fast their reason and understanding decays, how their memo­ries are lost, and their senses fail them, and they cannot in the least help them­selves. Is this a time, say then, to pre­pare for eternity, to vanquish all sin, and to obtain all grace? is this the fittest op­portunity we can chuse, to make our peace with God in, to sue out our par­don, and to perform all those duties of piety, mercy, justice and charity that we were before wanting in; or rather are not they then happy, who at such a time have nothing else to doe but to die? would you but take the opinion of those who are themselves in this condition, and be moved by their judgments, they will all give their suffrages for what I have been now proving. Do not they when surprized by death offer all their goods and substance that they have so long and vainly laboured and toiled for, for some longer time, for a little truce and respite? what are they not willing to give, on condition that God would spare them yet a little while before they go hence, and be no more seen? Did you ever hear of any dying penitent that did not a thousand times wish he had begun sooner? and [Page 244]how earnestly do such warn every one by their example to take heed of trusting to a death-bed repentance? If therefore he that hath served the lusts of the flesh, and done his own will during a long ma­litious life can, for any thing a dying per­son can doe, be in any sense said to have lived soberly, righteously and godly, then may he be sure of salvation: if we walk according to this rule, then shall peace be upon us, but how can a man sow to the flesh, and reap to the spirit? serve the Devil all his life long, and be crowned by God at his death? but

III. The last thing to be considered was, what hopes or encouragement God hath given us to believe that he will re­mit or abate of those conditions of a good life which are propounded to us in the Gospel. And indeed there is very little to be found either of promise or example in Scripture to be a sufficient ground of belief that he will ordinarily accept of a death-bed repentance; for are not the conditions of salvation the same to persons sick and dying, as they are to men alive and in health? Are they not both under the same covenant, and is not the same [Page 245]actual obedience required of all under equal penalties? or can we think that any man shall fare better, and come off upon easier terms; or that God will deal more mildly and gently with him, and accept of less from him onely because he hath been so hardy and bold as to conti­nue in sin, and to put off his duty towards God even to the very last minute of his life?

But however there are two instances commonly mentioned in favour of a death-bed repentance. The first is that of the labourers, in our Saviour's Parable, that came into the vineyard at the eleventh hour, and yet received equal wages with those that came in at the first, and had born the heat of the day. But it is here to be observed,

1. That these labourers who came in so late, yet came in as soon as ever they were called and invited; for they gave this reason why they had stood so long there idle, because no man hath hired us, Had they been often solicited by the Master, or his Servants, and offered work, and all the day refused, and onely [Page 246]then at last, just in the close of the even­ing, been willing to have taken upon themselves the service when it was over, this had been something like the case I have been now speaking of, of Christians all their lives long rejecting Christ's yoke, but just when they are summoned to give an account, willing to submit their necks to it. But this Parable rather represents the case of an Heathen man that never heard of Christ or his Religion till a little before his death; whose coming into the Church so late shall not therefore hinder his receiving a full reward. But this is by no means the condition of those who have made a covenant with Christ in baptism, and after they have most notoriously failed of what they promised, do then onely re­turn to their service when the night is come, in which no man can work. He that came in at the eleventh hour was under no engagement to work any sooner, he had no-where promised it, nor had the Master commanded it, and therefore he was without fault.

2. He that came in at the eleventh hour did yet work one hour, that was indeed but a short time, yet however suf­ficient [Page 247]to render his case very different from that man's, who comes in but at the twelfth; which is the case of the death-bed penitent.

The other instance often named in fa­vour of a death-bed repentance, is that of one of the Thieves on the Cross, a passage in the Gospel, remembred better, and studied more by wicked men, than any other story whatever, though the whole of it was so very miraculous and extraor­dinary, that the like never can be expec­ted again, unless our blessed Lord should once more descend from Heaven, and suffer here amongst us, and one of us should happen to die in company with him; and then indeed from such a won­derfull repentance and faith as his was, we might hope for the like success and acceptance. But this example affords but little comfort to those who have for many years professed the Religion of Je­sus, and yet deferred the practice of it till the day of their death.

But, you'll say then, is there no hopes? is there no remedy? what must a wicked man doe in such a condition, when he [Page 248]happens to be thus surprised by death? I am far from taking upon me to limit and confine the mercies of God Almighty, they are over all his works, and are as in­finite as himself, such persons therefore as have spent their days in luxury and profaneness, and contempt of all religi­on, but at last humbly beg pardon, and heartily promise and resolve amendment, we must leave to his goodness, and pity, and gratious compassion, who though he ties us up to rules, yet is not himself bound by them, and who may doe more for us than he hath any where promised, and therefore persons in such circumstances ought to be encouraged and quios [...]ed to doe all that they can, and at last to sub­mit themselves to God's good pleasure, and all that we can tell such men is, that the greater and more remarkable their repentance is, the more hopes of their forgiveness; that sometimes there have appeared now and then some illustrious instances of the power of God's grace and spirit, men who have been as famous for their signal repentance as they were be­fore for their profaneness and debau­chery, and that where God gives such ex­traordinary grace in this life, it is to be [Page 249]hoped he will shew extraordinary favour in the other; so that if such men may be saved, it is nevertheless by way of pre­rogative, not by the ordinary rule of judgment; it is we know not how.

But yet lest men should from hence presume to defer their repentance, thus much must, I think, and ought to be said on the other side, that God hath no where expresly declared that he will ac­cept of all our sorrows, and submissions, and tears, and promises, and resolutions made on a death-bed; that all these do not amount to what is the plain conditi­on of the covenant of grace, that though what God may doe is not for us to de­fine, yet he hath plainly enough told us what we are to doe, and that it is the greatest madness in the world to run so great an hazard as that we cannot be sa­ved without a dispensation from the or­dinary rule; had a wise man an hundred souls he would not venture one of them on such uncertainties, and thus the anci­ent fathers have determined this question, Do I say (saith St. Augustine) such an one shall be damned? I dare not. Do I say he shall be saved? I cannot. What say I [Page 250]then? will you free your self from all un­certainty in this matter? Repent now whilst you are in health; forsake your sins whilst you are able to commit them, and then you are sure of pardon. There is in­deed another Church in the world that can teach men how to be saved on a death-bed even without repentance, which hath found out ways to make it not onely possible, but very easie, for any ungodly wretch to secure himself from Hell at length when he comes to die by less than half an hours work; but we have not so learned Christ, nor dare we be so false to our trust, or to the souls of men, as to give them certain assurance of everlasting life, on any other terms than a constant, habitual obedience to the laws of the Go­spel. The onely certain way to die well is to live well.

Nor shall I go about to determine how much of our life must be spent in the practice of righteousness and goodness be­fore we can be said to have lived well; since this varies according to the circum­stances of men which are infinite: this is as if a man should ask how long it will be before a fool can become wise, or an [Page 251]unlearned man a scholar, which differs according to the capacity of the man, his industry and opportunity, and God's blessing; but onely thus much, I think, may safely be said, that so much time of our life is necessary to be spent in the practice of goodness, as that we may from the temper of our minds and the course of our actions be truly denominated, holy, humble, pure, meek, patient, just, tempe­rate, lovers of God and men; for the Gospel promiseth not eternal life and glory to any but to persons so and so qualified, and it is undoubted that a few pious wi­shes, prayers and purposes, or a good will made at our death will not suffice to denominate us such. God doth not just watch how men die, but he will judge every man according to his works, and the deeds he hath done in the flesh; and those dispositions we have nourished, lo­ved and delighted in all our life will fol­low and attend us to another world; and an evil nature, however loth we are to it, or sorry for it, will sink us down into the deepest Hell.

To conclude all, the use we are to make of all I have now said, is not to judge or censure others whose lives we may have been acquainted with, and whose condition according to this doc­trine may seem sad and deplorable, such we are to pity and pray for, and exer­cise our charity upon, and leave to God's mercy; but that we should all now resolve not to defer the doing of the least thing that we could wish done in order to the salvation of our souls, to a sick or death-bed, but that to day, even whilst it is called to day, we depart from ini­quity, and not be always beginning to live; we ought not to lose so much time as it would take to deliberate about this matter, for there is no room for consul­tation here; he would be next to mad that should seriously advise whether he should be for ever happy or for ever mi­serable.

Let us all endeavour therefore so to live now as we shall wish we had done when we come to lie upon our death-beds, or as we shall then resolve to live, in case God should continue our life to us, [Page 253]let us pursue those things now, which we shall be able to think of and reflect upon with pleasure when we come to die, and presently forsake all those things the re­membrance of which at that time will be bitter to us; let us now whilst we are well and in health cherish the same thoughts and apprehensions of things, that we shall have when we are sick and dying; let us now despise this world as much, and think as ill of sin, and as se­riously of God and eternity as we shall then do, for this is the great commen­dation of the righteous man that every one desires to die his death, that at last all men are of his mind and persuasion, and would chuse his condition; Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his.

I end all with those words of the wise Son of Sirach. Learn before thou speak, and use physick or ever thou be sick; before judgment examine thy self, and in the day of visitation thou shalt find mercy. Hum­ble thy self before thou be sick, and in the time of sins shew repentance. Let nothing hinder thee to pay thy vows in due time, and defer not untill death to be justified. [Page 254]Make no tarrying to turn to the Lord, and put it not off from day to day; for sud­denly shall the wrath of the Lord come forth, and in thy security thou shalt be destroyed, and perish in the day of ven­geance.

FOR our more clearly understanding the sense and extent of this pro­hibition of our blessed Saviour's, Swear not at all, these two things must be observed.

I. That it was a common practice a­mongst the Jews to swear by some of God's creatures, which custome prevai­led amongst them from a pretended re­verence of God's holy name: whenever they would affirm any thing with more than ordinary vehemence and earnest­ness, or beget an assurance of what they said in another, they thought it not fit or decent presently to invoke the sove­reign God of Heaven and earth, and on every slight and trivial occasion to run to the great maker and father of all things; but in smaller matters and in ordinary talk they would swear by their Parents, by the Heavens, by the Earth, by Jeru­salem, the Altar, Temple, their Head, or the like; nor did they count such forms of swearing equally obliging with those oaths wherein the name of God was so­lemnly and expresly called upon: to this our Saviour in probability refers in the verse foregoing my Text, Ye have heard that it hath been said by them of old time, thou shalt not forswear thy self, but shalt perform unto the Lord thine oaths; they thought such onely incurr'd the guilt and penalty of perjury who stood [Page 257]not to those promises they had confirmed by explicit calling the Lord himself to witness, but that there was but little e­vil or danger either in the common use of swearing by creatures, or in breaking such oaths.

Now our Saviour here absolutely for­bids not onely swearing by the sacred name of God, but also by any of his creatures, Swear not at all, no not so much as by the Heavens, by the Earth, or by Jerusalem; and the reason he gives is because in all such forms of swearing by creatures, though God is not expresly named, yet he himself is really referred to, and tacitly invoked, who is the su­preme Lord and maker of all, when you swear by the Heavens you call upon him whose throne is there placed, when by the earth you appeal to him whose foot­stool it is, when by Jerusalem you impli­citly and by just interpretation swear by him that is the great King thereof. This our Saviour as plainly delivers on another occasion, Matth. 23.20. Whoso shall swear by the altar, sweareth by it and all things thereon; and whose shall swear by the Tem­ple, sweareth by it and by him that dwel­leth [Page 258]therein; and he that shall swear by Heaven, sweareth by the throne of God and by him that sitteth thereon. So that in this case, the truth is, if in such kind of oaths, when men swear by the Hea­vens, the Earth or the like, they mean onely the material sensible Heavens and Earth, besides the irreligion of vain swearing, they are guilty of plain idola­try, in giving to the creatures that wor­ship that is due onely to God; as (suppo­sing those inanimate beings able to hear them and judge their thoughts, and wit­ness to the sincerity of their purposes, or to punish them for their falseness and hy­pocrisie) but if they do not believe any such thing of those creatures they swear by, then must such oaths, if they have any sense at all, refer to God, and his name must be understood to be invoked, even though he be not expresly mentio­ned: So that this prohibition of our Savi­our may be accounted to extend to all such forms of speech amongst us, as are used as oaths (and so understood) to be­get credit to what we say, though God be not named; in short, all manner of oaths whether by the Majesty of God, or any of his creatures, or any words, signs [Page 259]or gestures, which by common custome and interpretation are accounted swea­ring, may be understood to be hereby forbidden, as well as direct express swea­ring; for a man may swear without ever saying a word, if by received usage such a gesture doth signifie our calling God to witness; and so the forms and outward modes of swearing are different in several Nations, though the reason and sense of them be the same in all places, whatever words or signs are used. If therefore such phrases as these, faith, troth, and ma­ny others which I might name, are in ordinary esteem and practice thought to contain something more than an affir­mation, and are used and understood a­mongst us as oaths, they are here forbid­den to Christians under this rule of swea­ring not at all, though such words in themselves have not the force of oaths, nor is God immediately appealed to by them.

II. It is farther here to be observed, that though all manner of swearing whe­ther by the name of God or any of his creatures be thus prohibited, Swear not at all, yet this must be understood onely [Page 260]of arbitrary voluntary swearing in ordi­nary talk and discourse, when there is no great reason, no justifiable occasion for it. It is to be acknowledged that some of the ancient Fathers from these words did con­clude it utterly unlawfull for a Christian at any time to swear; some of their say­ings to this purpose are quoted by Grotius in his comment upon these words; but then it is to be considered,

1. That there were but some few of them of this opinion, and that against the current doctrine of the greatest part of the primitive Christians; and,

2. Against the known allowed practice amongst them; for we all along find there were many Christians in the armies of the heathen Emperours, and they could not have served under them without taking the military oath, which they did not use to scruple, so they were not put to swear by any of their Genii, or Heathen Deities, or Fortune, or the like.

3. Their great argument against ta­king of oaths was drawn from the invin­cible faith and truth of Christians, who [Page 261]upon no consideration whatever could ei­ther be forc'd or won to affirm what they knew to be false, or promise what they never intended to perform; and this they were so remarkable for, that they thought it a diminution or scandalous affront of­fered to them to be put to their oaths; they always had such a regard to their words, and it was so sacred a thing at all times to speak truth, that they would not be so much distrusted or disparaged as to have the security of an oath required of them; the constant tenour of their lives they thought did bear a greater te­stimony to what the Christians affirmed, and render it more credible than the oaths of any other men could what they witnessed.

But now because in latter days some Sectaries both here and elsewhere have from these words, Swear not at all, plea­ded against the lawfulness of taking of a­ny oaths though thereto required by the Magistrate, though it be an oath of Al­legiance to their Prince, or when they give testimony in a publick cause: I shall briefly and plainly make out to you that this prohibition of our Saviour's must ad­mit [Page 262]of some exceptions, and must be re­strained onely to vain and rash oaths in our ordinary discourse, which I shall doe by desiring you to consider,

(1.) That in other general prohibi­tions it is acknowledged by all that we must make the same or like excepti­ons. Thus though our Saviour hath said a little before these words in this Sermon on the Mount, v. 21. Thou shalt not kill, and whosoever shall kill shall be in danger of the judgment, yet we all grant that this must be confined to private persons, that this forbids not the Magistrate's inflicting capital punishments; and then that as to private persons, it is meant onely of killing innocent men; but that still it is lawfull for us in the preservation of our own lives to kill those who unjustly assault us, these cases must be reserved: so here, Swear not at all, that is, not of your own motion, without any necessary or suffici­ent cause; but this doth not infringe the right which Magistrates have to impose oaths on their subjects, and to require the utmost and greatest security for their fidelity and obedience; this doth not for­bid swearing when it is requisite for the [Page 263]determining of important controversies or distribution of justice, when it is for the publick good, that our testimony should be credited and made more valid by the solemnity of an oath. And that such exceptions as these must be allowed from this general rule will appear,

2. If we consider the positive com­mand that is opposed to this prohibition, Swear not at all, but let your communica­tion be yea, yea; nay, nay; for whatsoever is more than these, cometh of evil. Let your communication, i. e. your speech, your ordinary familiar discourse, be yea, yea; nay, nay: which was a proverbial way of expressing an honest man whom you may believe and trust. Justorum etiam est etiam, & non eorum est non: His aye was aye, and his no was no. His promises and performances did exactly and constantly agree: without any more adoe you may give credit to, and relie upon whatever he says. Whatever is more than these, cometh of evil; i. e. whatsoever is more than bare affirming or denying any thing, (that is still in our communication, in our ordinary talk and discourse) is from evil; from mens [Page 264]so commonly breaking of promises, and speaking of falsities; from whence that lewd custome of adding oaths proceeds, because they cannot be believed without them. Now therefore since our Saviour is here directing us how to govern our common discourse and conversation toge­ther, the prohibition also in the begin­ning must be restrained to the same mat­ter, and so the full sense of the words seems to me to be this. In your commu­nication, familiari sermone, in your com­mon talk use no swearing, not so much as by any creature; but let it suffice barely to affirm or deny, and be always so true to your words, that nothing far­ther need be desired or expected from you: all other confirmation in such ordi­nary affairs is practised onely by such as are used to lie and dissemble, and intend to impose upon others.

(3.) That our Saviour did not here forbid all swearing, whatever cause there might be for it, as a thing in it self un­lawfull, we are fully satisfied from the example of St. Paul, who certainly un­derstood his Master's mind in this parti­cular. Now it is a very unreasonable [Page 265]thing to imagine, that he should so often swear, and that by the name of God too, that such his oaths should be recorded in the Scriptures, and that there should not be the least intimation of his sinning in so doing, if all swearing was utterly pro­hibited by his Lord and Master. I shall propound two or three eminent instances to shew, that in serious and great matters of mighty concernment he made no scru­ple of adding the confirmation of an oath; Gal. 1.20. Now the things which I write unto you, behold, before God I lie not. He bears witness to the truth of his writings by an express oath; Rom. 1.9. For God is my witness whom I serve, that without ceasing I make mention of you always in my prayers. It was of great moment that in the beginning of his Epistle he should persuade those, to whom he did address himself, of his good-will toward them. How well therefore he did wish them, he calls God to witness, which is the formal essence of an oath. Thus again, to name no more, 2 Cor. 11.31. The God and Fa­ther of our Lord Jesus Christ, which is blessed for evermore, knoweth that I lie not: which is a plain appeal to God's te­stimony. So that when the glory of God [Page 266]and the publick good was engaged, he thought it not unlawfull to invoke God's holy name, and to call his Majesty for a witness of his truth, or the avenger of his falshood. Thus our blessed Saviour himself when he stood before the High-priest of the Jews, did not refuse to an­swer upon oath; Matth. 26.63. The High-priest said unto him, I adjure thee by the living God that thou tell us whether thou be the Christ, the Son of God, which amongst the Jews was the form of giving an oath; to which our Saviour answe­red, Thou hast said; that is, upon my oath it is as thou sayst. Nay, to make all sure, that there is no evil in swearing when it is done gravely and seriously, and upon an important occasion that re­quires it; we find that God himself hath been pleased to give us his oath. Though it were impossible for him to lye, yet that we might have strong consolation and full assurance, to shew the heirs of the promise the immutability of his counsel, he confir­med it by an oath; and when he could not swear by a greater, he swore by himself; Heb. 6.13. And therefore it must be ve­ry absurd to deny amongst Christians the lawfulness of doing that, though upon [Page 267]never so great reason, which St. Paul so of­ten did, nay which God Almighty, who is truth it self, did yet vouchsafe out of condescension to our weakness, to doe more than once. Not now to mention Baptism and the Lord's Supper, both of which have in them the nature of oaths, and are therefore called Sacraments.

(4.) We are to consider that swearing rightly circumstanced is so far from be­ing a thing in it self evil, and so univer­sally forbidden; that it is indeed a most eminent part of religious worship and di­vine adoration, by which we do most signally own and recognize God Al­mighty to be the great Sovereign Lord and Governour of the world, the highest and supremest Power, to which the last and final appeal is in all cases to be made. By it we acknowledge the immensity of his presence, his exact knowledge and continual care of humane affairs, and all things that happen here below; his all-see­ing eye, that he searcheth into the depth of our hearts, and is conscious to our most inward thoughts and secret mea­nings. We do by it avow him as the grand Patron of truth and innocence, as [Page 268]the severe punisher and avenger of deceit and perfidiousness. And therefore doth God often in holy Scripture appropriate this to himself; Him onely shalt thou serve, and to him shalt thou cleave, and shalt swear by his name. And if this be done with that consideration and solem­nity which doth become such a special part of devotion; upon an occasion that doth deserve, and that will in some mea­sure excuse our engaging the divine Ma­jesty as a witness in it; I say, if it be performed with due awe and reverence, with hearty intention for a considerable good, we do, thus calling upon God when we swear by him, honour and glo­rify his great and holy name, as well as by prayer or praises, or any other act of religious worship whatever.

(5.) Add to this the necessity of ta­king oaths in order to civil government, publick administration of justice, and the maintaining of good order and peace in Societies. And therefore the Apostle tells us, Heb. 6.16. That an oath for con­firmation to men is the end of all strife; and that not by particular customs and laws prevailing in some places onely, but [Page 269]from the appointment of God, the rea­sonableness and fitness of the thing it self, and the constant practice of all the world in all ages; for as far and wide as the sense of a Deity hath spread it self, hath also the religion of an oath, and the final determination of matters in difference, by calling to witness the Lord and Ma­ker of all things; this being the utmost assurance, and the surest pledge any can give of their faith and sincerity. For no­thing can be imagined sufficient or effec­tual to engage men to speak truth, or to be faithfull and constant to their promises, if an oath doth not. He must surely re­nounce all sense and fear of God, all con­science of duty or regard to the Al­mighty's love and favour, who can with open face call him to testify to a lye, or challenge him to punish him if he speaks not true, when yet at that very time he knows he does not. This is the greatest security men can give of their honesty, and that they mean as they say. And it being necessary for the government of the world in so many cases (not proper now to be named) that truth should be found out, and the greatest certainty of it be given that can possibly, and that [Page 270]men should by the strictest ties be obliged to some duties; it thence also becomes necessary that oaths should sometimes be required, especially when men cannot by other means well assure the sincerity of their intentions, or secure the fidelity of their resolutions.

I confess amongst Christians in the first ages I believe oaths were not so com­monly required in such little matters, as now sometimes they are, but the reason was because truth and honesty then pre­vailed far more amongst them, and lying was then more scandalous than, I fear, perjury is now: but perfidiousness and dissembling, and equivocating and fraud encreasing, have made the use of oaths more ordinary than otherwise would have been necessary. For if Christians did generally observe the laws of their Religion in all other instances, men would fly to this greatest security onely in extreme and highest cases, and not find it needfull to require it in common and more trivial matters.

(6.) Lastly, I onely observe farther, that what seems thus to be the doctrine [Page 271]of our Saviour concerning swearing, was delivered by the Philosophers of old a­mongst the Heathens as agreeable to the light of nature and right reason: that is to say, they advised their Scholars to for­bear all oaths as much as possibly they could: never to swear but when it was necessary, to reverence an oath (as Py­thagoras express'd it in his golden Verses) not easily or lightly or want only to take God's name into their mouths. I forbear to trouble you with the Authours, or the Sentences themselves: and I propound this onely to shew that the wise men of this world did agree with our blessed Sa­viour in this rule which he hath prescri­bed to us concerning swearing; and I have been the larger in it that you might see what little reason any Enthusiasts a­mongst us have to stand out so stubbornly against the wholsome laws of our Coun­trey, and the proceedings of the Courts of Judicature; who, though it were to save the King's life, will not give their testimony upon oath, because our Saviour hath said, Swear not at all.

The sum of all is; Our Saviour abso­lutely forbids swearing in our communi­cation [Page 272]or ordinary discourse together, and about the unlawfulness of this there is no dispute; and strange it is that against such express words of our blessed Lord and Ma­ster, men should so openly allow them­selves in such a vile practice, and yet have the face to call themselves his disciples and followers. This evil of voluntary rash swearing hath prevailed amongst us even almost beyond all hope of cure and remedy. That great Oratour St. Chry­sostome made no less than twenty Homi­lies or Sermons against this foolish vice, and yet found it too hard for all his rea­son or Rhetorick, till at length he attemp­ted to force his Auditours to leave off that sin, if for no better reason, yet that he might chuse another subject. They are ordinarily men onely of debauched minds and consciences that freely indulge themselves in it; and if any such now hear me, I cannot expect by those few words I have now to deliver, to dissuade them from it. I had rather endeavour to offer something to your consideration who are not yet infected by it, to persuade you to watch severely against it, and resolve never to comply with such an impious senseless custome.

1. Consider what an horrid affront it is to the divine Majesty. All sin reflects dishonourably upon God, but other sins do this by consequence onely: this di­rectly flies in his face, and immediately impugneth his justice and power. Other sins are acts of disobedience, but 'tis high contempt of God, thus to toss about his excellent and glorious name in our un­hallowed mouths, and to prostitute it to so vile an use as onely to fill up the vacui­ties of our idle prattle. That great and terrible name of God which all the An­gels and host of Heaven with the pro­foundest submission continually adore; which rends the mountains, and opens the bowels of the deepest rocks, which makes hell tremble, and is the strength and hope of all the ends of the earth, our onely refuge in the day of trouble, the very thought whereof should fill all so­ber persons with a reverential awe and horrour, how do men most impudently and rashly almost every minute pollute and tear without fear or sense, or observing what they say, as if God Almighty, the Maker and Judge of us all, were the mea­nest and most despicable Being in the uni­verse? [Page 274]What unaccountable boldness and in­tolerable sauciness is this, to dare to invoke the dreadfull Majesty of heaven and earth to witness to every impertinent saying, silly story, vain fancy, almost every five words we utter? thus at our pleasure to summon our Omnipotent Creatour, as if he were at our beck, and a slave to our humour? thus to play and dally with him who is a consuming fire, and can in the twinkling of an eye make us all as miserable as we have been sinfull? How shall we ever be able in the day of our fears to address our selves to the throne of his grace, whom every time we speak, we thus madly defy? with what shame and regret and confusion must we needs ap­pear before his Judgment seat, whose ho­nourable name we have thus foully pro­phaned and used so ignominiously? Can they ever think to plead that bloud of our dearest Lord, and those wounds made by the spear and nails in his most pretious body for the pardon and expia­tion of their most grievous sins, who thus daily have made a mock of them? Can they ever with the least hope of suc­cess pray God, when they come to die, to deliver them from that damnation that [Page 275]they have a thousand times before wished to themselves?

And yet this sin which argues such slight and abuse of the divine Majesty such rudeness towards him, and draws so many dire consequences after it, is now adays (pardon me if I say it) one of the fashionable accomplishments of too ma­ny of those that should be precedents of civility or good manners to others; but this is so sad a consideration that I cannot endure to dwell longer upon it.

I proceed to other mischiefs of this vice though none need be named after this; for those whom the awe of God and sense of his power and infinite greatness will not keep and restrain from such desperate profanations of his holy name, it is not to be imagined that any less arguments should.

2. This practice of common swearing must of necessity frequently involve men in the heinous sin of perjury. He that swears at every turn in his ordinary dis­course, how often doth he call God to wit­ness even to what he knows is false, and as [Page 276]often forget to doe what before God he hath engaged himself to perform? or if he be afraid of this crying sin of perjury, and be put in mind of what by his need­less oath he had obliged himself unto, how many inconveniencies will his rash­ness continually expose him unto? You all know how Herod was loth for his ho­nours sake before all his Court to violate his hasty oath, and how that cost the head of the greatest Prophet that ever was. By customary using of God's sa­cred name men come to vent it when they think not of it, without any fore­thought or consideration, and by it swear to things impossible or romantick, to their own fictions and dreams which they nei­ther believe themselves, nor yet intend to deceive others into a belief of; and oftentimes transported by anger or rage they swear to things they repent of when they are calm and sober, and are then quite of another mind; so that false swea­ring is the certain never-failing effect of much swearing; nay indeed it is onely chance or luck in such as every time in the hurry of their discourse call upon God's name that they do not, not onely vainly swear, but also impiously forswear them­selves; [Page 277]for whilst they thus back almost every affirmation with an oath, how idle, uncertain or doubtfull soever the mat­ter be, without making any difference, or at all weighing what they say, or being sa­tisfied concerning the truth of it, or know­ing their own minds about it, they can­not be freed from the guilt of the sin of perjury, though what they say should happen not to be false, or they should be as good as their word, it being by for­tune onely that it doth prove so. And he that swears to a thing that chances to be true, (if he knew it not certainly, or did not consider it whether it were so or no, but unadvisedly sealed it with an oath, though it be as he did swear) yet must be presumed guilty of this crime of perjury in the sight of God, and then I leave it to your selves to judge how often by this vile custome of swearing men do forswear themselves.

3. From hence it follows that this sin of vain and rash swearing in our ordinary discourse is of very bad influence to the publick state; nothing is so pernicious to the government, nay nothing is so de­structive of our liberties and properties, [Page 278]of which we are so fond, and for which we are so zealous, as this wicked practice of swearing upon all occasions; as it makes oaths become cheap and vile, so it derogates from their sacredness and au­thority, for what reason can there be to be­lieve, that he who makes no conscience of those many oaths that he daily belches forth upon the slightest provocations, should be of another opinion, and look on himself as more strictly tied up by them when he swears allegiance to his Prince, or gives his testimony in a Court of Judicature? why should he be more afraid or concerned for calling God to wit­ness in a cause wherein his neighbour's e­state, good name or life is engaged, than he is in his private conversation of invoking the Majesty of Heaven an hundred times in a day? The fear of the penalty which the laws have appointed for perjury may indeed move him in such cases wherein there is danger of his being discovered, and there is likewise a little more solem­nity in such publick swearing before a Magistrate; but yet what is that to one who hath cast off all sense and fear of God, and every hour dares openly re­proach and despise him? So that the [Page 279]publick laws ought to provide against this piece of debauchery as the bane of all society; and we cannot answer it in prudence, to have any intercourse, to hold any correspondence or transactions with, or in any case to trust or rely on his word who feareth not an oath; for,

4. This practice of swearing in our or­dinary discourse doth highly detract from the credit of the person that useth it, it renders justly suspicious every word he says and confirms with an unnecessary oath; for if the thing be true and certain, and the person of unblemished faith, what need can there be of an oath to vouch it; but if he swears to it, he declares himself not to be worthy of belief, that his word ought in no case to be taken, since in the most indifferent matters he chuses still to warrant it with an oath, and by thus doing most deservedly forfeits all credit and repute among considering persons.

A truly honest man is so well assured of his own veracity that he counts it wholly needless and useless to offer an oath as a pledge or pawn of the truth of what he affirms; but if upon every word [Page 280]I am apt to swear to it, this is an undoub­ted sign that either I intend to deceive in that particular, or else that I am so used to lie that I cannot expect to be believed without an oath.

5. This is a vice most distastefull and ungratefull to all the rest of mankind, most strangely offensive to those we con­verse with. The talk of him that swea­reth much, saith a wise man, maketh the hair to stand upright, and their brawls make one stop his ears. If men harden themselves against other arguments ta­ken from the wickedness and irreligion of this practice, yet this methinks ought to prevail something with those that pretend to honour and gentile carriage, viz. that this is the most uncivil and the rudest thing that can be offered to other men; it rankly favours of ill manners and want of breeding for them to be continually defying of that Being which all other men adore, and spitting out their venom against that God whom the rest of man­kind profess to love and honour above all things. Should one of our hectoring swearers come into a company, the grea­test part of which he knew highly valued [Page 281]and prized an absent friend, never men­tioned him but with all the kindness and respect imaginable, called him their pa­tron, professed mighty obligations to him and believed him one of the best of men; would it pass for a thing tolerably be­coming or decent for him every word, when no occasion was offered, to fall a­bespattering and vilifying this person, so dear to the company, and to speak of him with the greatest contempt and despight? now such is God to the greatest part of the world, they own all that they have or are to be from him alone, that he is their great benefactour and Saviour, that they are infinitely engaged to him, that they desire his love and favour above all this world: how is it sufferable then, in men of fashion and repute especially, (as is the common practice of too many) when they meet with persons that are more than others concerned for the ho­nour of God, to be ever and anon with their profane talk pelting this holy being, polluting his name with their filthy speech, outbraving his Majesty, chusing to doe that which they know grates most harshly upon other men, and which they hate above any thing in the world?

6. That which mightily aggravates this madness and folly is, that it is such a sin as we have no temptation to com­mit, nothing to move or sway us to­wards it, it gratifies no natural inclina­tion, it produceth no pleasure, no gain or worldly profit accrues to us by it; it affordeth us not so much as any short temporal recompence for the venture we run, and the dangerous hazards we ex­pose our selves unto; other sorts of sin have something to excuse them, our na­tures and bodily tempers may strongly incline, us to some other sins: The cove­tous man hath his full bags and great e­state to plead in his behalf; and as for the voluptuous Epicure, his appetites and lusts are tickled with the variety of sensual delights; and the ambitious man hath the contentment he takes in his honours and advancements to answer for the loss of the peace of his mind and a good con­science; the drunkard pleads the good­ness of his wine and company, the un­clean person talks of the resistless charms of beauty; but the swearer selleth his soul for nothing; so that of all wicked men he is the most silly and unreasonable, [Page 283]and makes the worst and maddest bar­gain for himself. Nay, other ways of sinning may be almost called wisedom, if compared to this; For other sinners ei­ther project something future, and are delighted with the hopes and expecta­tions of it, or enjoy something present that pleases them and satisfies some cra­ving inordinate desire: but this is pure sinning for sinnings sake, onely in com­pliance with an ugly imperious custome too much in vogue and fashion.

7. There is no kind of sin whatever that doth so highly provoke God Al­mighty to inflict some remarkable exem­plary judgment on a Person or Nation, even in this life, as this practice of vain swearing by his Name. This almost ne­cessitates him to thunder from Heaven after some extraordinary manner, to vin­dicate his power and justice and autho­rity, all which are so notoriously abused, blasphemed and challenged by such hi­deous oaths and dire imprecations. He is e'en forced by such horrid defiances and outrageous darings of him to shew his strength and might to the children of men, by sending some grievous plagues [Page 284]and sore calamities amongst them, by which they may perceive he will not al­ways bear such bold prophanations of his truth and honour and majesty; but will at length return those curses upon men which they have so often wished to themselves: that he will at last punish and avenge himself of those who have so openly and frequently provoked him to it by their dreadfull appeals to him.

The whole Nation of the Jews; that forlorn and forsaken people, the scorn of all the earth, are to this day a standing monument of God's implacable anger and wrath upon a like occasion, when they so solemnly cursed themselves, and prayed that the bloud of the holy Jesus might be upon their heads, and the heads of their children. God is jealous and tender of his name, and will not always suffer it to be scorn'd and reproached. Because of swearing, saith the Prophet, the land mourneth. God is engaged in honour to right himself, and maintain his name from such foul contempt, lest men should begin to think either that he is not at all, or that he is deaf to all their loud calls and impudent invocations.

8. Lastly, I onely add this one pecu­liar consideration to you who now hear me, assembled in this place for the wor­ship of that great God, for the honour of whose name I am pleading: that this cus­tome of vain swearing is the great scandal to our Church of England, and those that adhere to it in its present establishment. This was of old, and is still the great ob­jection against those of the Church-way, as they ordinarily call us, that so many amongst us allow themselves in this sin­full practice; nay not onely use it, but look on it as their credit so to doe. You see the fruit, say they, of your Common-prayers, of your read devotions, of your decent and orderly worship which you so much plead for. You may judge of the goodness and efficacy of that way, by those oaths and curses that abound so much in those of your profession. And really, what can we answer to this charge? can we absolutely deny it? Must we not rather confess, amongst friends at least, that it is in some measure true, that the Separatists and Dissenters do more generally restrain themselves from this lewd practice, and do not so [Page 286]ordinarily allow themselves in this vice, as too many amongst us doe? Now it is not a sufficient answer to this to recrimi­nate and tell them of as great sins that they are guilty of; that they can lye, cheat and dissemble, are factious and un­governable, though they will not swear, which is sometimes replied in this case: for this, though never so true, is not suf­ficient to wipe off this disgrace and re­flexion from our Church: but the true answer to this is, that thus it always was in the world, and ever will be, that where there are different opinions and parties in Religion, and one is favoured by the publick Laws, and countenanced by the Government, all those who are of no Religion will be sure to be of that side which is uppermost, which the King and Court is of, which is freest from dan­ger. So that all the prophane, wicked, dissolute livers will be of our Church, as long as the doctrine of it is the establi­shed owned Religion of the Nation; but if ever the tide should turn, and another Party get the upper hand, they should have the company of those men also, un­less some worldly interest did interfere and hinder them. Such men of such [Page 287]loose principles and seared consciences matter not what Religion they profess, or whether any at all. But do these re­ceive any encouragement or countenance amongst us? do we boast of their god­liness? do we account these to live an­swerably to their profession? do not we complain of them as well as our Adver­saries? and would to God all such as hate to be reformed, would even leave our Church. 'Twould be an happy day if all such ungodly wicked wretches, who will not be won over by the excellent means and arguments of our Religion, would also forsake that profession which in practice they disown, nay, blemish and discredit; that they would be of any Party, run over to our enemies, rather than continue to dishonour the best set­tled and purest Church in the world. Ye now who, by your presence at these her solemn devotions, seem concerned for the glory, preservation and security of our Church, it is much in your power to wipe off such blots and aspersions, to answer such reflexions, and to stop the mouths of all opposers, by a due care and government of all your words and ac­tions: and by the innocency and un­blameableness [Page 288]of your lives, your un­feigned piety and reverence towards God, your invincible truth and faithful­ness, and other remarkable vertues to re­commend our Church even to those who are without: especially be persuaded to join all your endeavours against this vice by keeping a strict guard against it, in your selves by keeping from all appea­rance of it; by not suffering it in your in­feriours, or those that have any depen­dance upon you; by mildly and seasona­bly warning and reproving those of your neighbours and acquaintance that are guilty of this folly. In a word, let us all observe such exact truth in all our chat and discourse, be so constant to our promises, that at any time our word may pass without any farther engagement, that we may never think it necessary to assure our credit or faith by an oath.

Amongst the Romans the Priest of Ju­piter was in no case permitted to swear, because it was not handsome that he who was so nearly related to their great God, and charged with such divine matters as the care of Religion, should be distrusted about small things. And we know a­mongst [Page 289]our selves solemn formal oaths are not in many cases required from per­sons of honour; their word upon their honour hath equal credit with the express oath of inferiour persons. Now such would our blessed Saviour have all his disciples to be, so true and faithfull, that there should be no need of oaths to con­firm their speeches, but that the holiness and strictness of their lives should give such undoubted testimony to, and command so firm a belief of all they say, as that no farther asseveration should be able to vouch it more. I conclude all with those sayings of the wise Son of Sirach, Ecclus. 23.9, 10, 11, 12, 13.

Accustome not thy mouth to swearing, neither use thy self to the naming of the Holy one.

For as a servant that is continually beaten shall not be without a blue mark, so he that sweareth and nameth God continu­ally shall not be faultless.

A man that useth much swearing shall be filled with iniquity, and the plague shall never depart from his house. If he shall of­fend, [Page 290]his sin shall be upon him; and if he acknowledge not his sin, he maketh a dou­ble offence. And if he swear in vain, he shall not be innocent, but his house shall be full of calamities.

There is a word that is clothed about with death, God grant that it be not found in the heritage of Jacob: for all such things shall be far from the godly, and they shall not wallow in their sins.

Ʋse not thy mouth to intemperate swea­ring, for therein is the word of sin.

But I say unto you, swear not at all.

THAT the appearance of the ever blessed Son of God in our mor­tal nature was upon some very great and most important design, not o­therwise at all, or at least, not so happily [Page 292]by any other means to be accomplished, every one must needs grant at first hear­ing. It could not be any indifferent tri­vial errand or business that a person of such infinite honour and dignity was em­ployed about, which brought down God himself from the regions or glory and light inaccessible to dwell in an earthly tabernacle, and to veil the splendour of his Majesty with a body of flesh. This was such a surprizing condescension of him that had lived from all eternity in the bosome of his Almighty Father, this signified such wonderfull love and regard to that humane nature he assumed, that all men cannot but reasonably promise themselves the greatest advantages ima­ginable from such a gratious undertaking. That our forlorn nature should be thus highly honoured and exalted, as to be after such an unspeakable manner united to the divine, doth evidently assure us of God's good-will towards sinfull men, that he yet entertained thoughts of mer­cy towards us, and was loth that the fol­ly of his creatures should prove their irre­coverable ruine.

Had God sent a message to us by the meanest servant in his heavenly Court, it had been a favour too great for us to have expected, and for which we could never have been enough thankfull. Had he commanded an host of illustrious Angels to have flown all over the earth, and loudly to have proclaim'd God's willing­ness to have been reconciled to men, should we not all with mighty joy and wonder have regarded and adored such stupendous grace and goodness, crying out, Lord, what is man, that thou art thus mindfull of him? or the son of man, that thou thus visitest him?

But that God himself should descend from his heavenly habitation to be clo­thed with our rags; that he who thought it no robbery to be equal with God, should take on him the form of a servant, and be found in the fashion and likeness of sinfull flesh, this astonishes not onely men, but Angels themselves: for he took not on him­self the nature of Angels, nor appeared for their rescue and deliverance, who had left their first mansions of glory; but was pleased so far to humble himself, as to [Page 294]undertake the cause and patronage of us vile worms, sinfull dust and ashes, even whilst we were enemies, traytours and rebels to his divine Majesty, and utterly unworthy of the least gratious look from him, though we had never so earnestly besought it: in our behalf it was that he did mediate and intercede, he stepp'd in between guilty wretched us and God's ju­stice; perfected our redemption, procu­red our liberty, and purchased eternal life and happiness for all men on the easie and pleasant conditions of the Gospel. And thou shalt call his name Jesus; for he shall save his people from their sins.

In my discourse on these words I shall onely

I. Shew you how, or by what means the Son of God became our Jesus, or did save men from their sins.

II. Draw some plain inferences from it.

I. How, or by what means the Son of God became our Jesus, or did save men from their sins.

Now in order to the salvation of sin­ners, the great end of our Saviour's In­carnation, these two things were neces­sary to be done; one of which princi­pally respects God, the other sinners themselves.

1. In order to the salvation of sinners it was necessary to obtain and purchase the pardon of their sins, and reconcilia­tion with God.

2. It was farther necessary that sinners themselves should be reform'd, and tur­ned from their sins to the love and prac­tice of true righteousness and goodness; that so they might be in some measure qualified and disposed for God's grace and mercy.

1. In order to the salvation of sinners it was necessary to obtain and purchase the pardon of their sins, and reconcilia­tion with God. It is true indeed, that God Almighty by the unlimited good­ness and compassionateness of his own nature is infinitely inclin'd to all acts of favour and pity; and he might without [Page 296]wrong to any one (if he had seen it fit) absolutely have pardoned the sins of man­kind, without any other consideration than their repentance: but out of his in­finite wisedom he rather chose to dispense his pardoning grace after such a manner as should not at all seem to reflect upon his exact justice, immaculate holiness, and unchangeable truth, and might not give the least encouragement to sinners to presume farther upon his mercy and goodness; as it would have done for God lightly and easily to have passed by such notorious offences, and without any sa­tisfaction to have receded from all his threatnings. He would not therefore propound terms of reconciliation with mankind without some publick repara­tion of the divine Honour and Authori­ty, and open manifestation of his just displeasure against sin and disobedience.

(1.) In order to our reconciliation with God, it was necessary that some publick reparation should be made of the divine Honour and Authority. The sins of the world were an unspeakable affront to the divine Majesty, and an open scorn put upon his most excellent Laws and [Page 297]Government. Now our mercifull Crea­tour inclined to forgive the sons of men that great debt which they were never able themselves to discharge, yet would so contrive it, that his clemency should no ways obscure or impair the glory of his Sovereign dignity, justice and holi­ness. It was most highly congruous, that whilst he pardoned the offenders, yet his Government should be acknowledged, the righteousness of his Laws vindicated, his Honour and Authority secured.

All which was most effectually done by our blessed Saviour, the Son of God's negotiating our peace in our nature, put­ting himself into the place of sinners, and answering all demands for us. By this the infinite holiness of God's pure nature was declared to all the world, in that he would have no entercourse with, nor ever receive into his favour such vile un­worthy wretches as we were, but onely in and through so holy, so perfect a Me­diatour. By this it appear'd that God at first upon good reasons established his laws, and pronounced his threatnings, since he would not without such a glo­rious compensation go back from them. [Page 298]We have now the greatest cause given us to tremble at his severe justice, to adore his sovereign power and dominion, even whilst we admire and feel his love and kindness to us; since no other considera­tion could prevail with God to remit our offences, but the powerfull interposition of his onely begotten Son, and his suffe­ring in our nature those pains and tor­ments which were due to our sins.

(2.) By this appearance of the Son of God was God's hatred and grievous dis­pleasure against sin most abundantly ma­nifested, in that he would not hear of, nor offer any pardon or mercy without such a valuable satisfaction. Here God pou­red forth his utmost vengeance against sin, when he delivered up to such a cruel and cursed death that Person that was most dear to him, and least deserved any such treatment from him, before he would forgive it. Can we now possibly think that there is but little evil in, or that God is not much offended with that which could no other ways be expiated but by such pretious bloud? Can any man imagine that it is a cheap thing to sin, when God himself in our flesh was [Page 299]bruised and buffeted, crowned with thorns, and nailed to the cross for it? That surely was no trifle or indifferent matter that caused the Son of God to bleed and die. That sore was deadly that could be cured by no other balsame but his bloud. If any thing could shew the fierceness of God's wrath against sin, surely it must be the gaping wounds and bleeding side of our Savour. Look on this his wonderfull humiliation; see the pits that were digged in his hands and feet, and the furrows that were made on his back, and then tell me what an accur­sed thing must that be that made God so displeased, and fastned our blessed Lord to the Gibbet. So that by our Saviour's in­carnation, obedient life and patient death, the divine honour was more illustriously repaired, his authority more clearly vin­dicated, his justice and severity against sin more openly declared, disobedience more highly disgraced and condemned, than if all the Sons of Adam had perished eternally in their rebellion. But this be­ing once done by the Son of God's ap­pearing in our behalf, this great propi­tiatory Sacrifice being offer'd for the sins of the world, God now thought it fit and [Page 300]consistent with the glory of all his Attri­butes, and the ends of government, to tender life and peace to sinners upon the most equal and reasonable conditions of the Covenant of Grace.

This is the admirable temperament and expedient found out by the wisedom of God, by which God glorifies his mer­cy in the pardon of sin without any vio­lation of his justice or truth, though he had denounced death against it. Thus this blessed Jesus opened to us the gates of Paradise, removed the flaming Cheru­bims, took away the partition-wall be­tween God and men, and put us all into a fair capacity of being for ever happy. To him alone do we and all men owe, that God will now deal with mankind upon such favourable conditions, by a new law suited and accommodated to our circumstances and infirmities in this lapsed state; that God upon the account of Christ's gratious undertaking for us is ready and forward to be reconciled with us, to forgive all that is past, and to make us as blessed as our natures are capable of: and of this benefit all that hear of the Gospel do equally partake. For we are [Page 301]not to imagine that our Saviour came in­to the world upon so little and narrow a design, as onely to rescue and redeem peremptorily and absolutely a few parti­cular favourites without any conditions, but he hath put all men, those especially to whom his Gospel is preached, in a ready and easie way of obtaining pardon and salvation. And thus our redemption, justification and salvation, as to the valu­able meritorious causes, depend onely on our Saviour. In all this work we have not the least hand, we have no place nor part. It was not any thing in us, or that can be done by us, that moved God to contrive, or our Saviour to accomplish our redemption, but onely the pity he had of us in our forlorn miserable condi­tion.

Here also is the onely comfort and se­curity of guilty minds depressed with shame and fear for their sins: that We have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous, and he is the propi­tiation for our sins. That we are not to stand the brunt of God's anger or displea­sure our selves, since his own Son hath voluntarily offered himself to screen man­kind [Page 302]from the divine wrath and ven­geance. And if we do but thoroughly con­sider how great and sublime a person he was, we cannot in the least doubt the pre­valency and success of his appearing for us. We ought not to despair of obtain­ing any thing from God, fit for him to grant, when we present our selves before him with such a Mediatour and Interces­sour, in whom he is infinitely well-plea­sed, and who is able to save to the utmost all that come unto God by him. Thus this Jesus hath saved us from our sins in the first sense; that is, obtained and purcha­sed the pardon of them, and made God placable to us.

But this is not all.

2. In order to the salvation of sinners, it is farther necessary that men should be freed from the power of sin, and from their evil natures, and become really good and holy. It is not enough that God should be made willing to forgive our sins, unless we also are made willing to forsake them. Christ came not to save us from the evil consequences of our sins whilst we loved them, and delighted our [Page 303]selves in them. He did not purchase for us an indulgence or licence to sin with­out punishment. That indeed had been an employment unworthy of the Son of God, nay an impossible task to have re­conciled God to unhallow'd and impure minds. The reformation of the world, the reparation of our natures, the puri­fying our minds, the implanting the di­vine nature in men, were as much the design of his incarnation, as the vin­dication of the divine justice, to which all the world was obnoxious; and (par­don me if I say it) he is more our Savi­our by freeing us from the dominion of sin, than from the penalty. Our blessed Lord had not been so kind and gratious to us, had he obtained Heaven for us (could such a thing possibly have been) whilst we continued impenitent, and ut­terly unlike to God.

Now there are these two things abso­lutely necessary for the recovery of man­kind, and making us really happy, re­pentance for sins past, and sincere obe­dience for the future; and to effect both these, no means so likely as this appea­rance of the Son of God in our nature.

(1.) As for repentance for sins past, what in the world can be imagined more effectual for the working in men an in­genuous shame and sorrow for what they have done amiss, than these tender offers of God's pardon and acceptance upon our submission and returning to a better mind? We have now all possible assurance given us that mercy is to be had for the most grievous offenders. No­thing can exclude or exempt us from this act of grace, but onely our own wil­full and obstinate refusal of life and hap­piness.

All men are in the condition of the prodigal Son in the Parable of our Savi­our, Luke 15. They have gone astray from their Father's house after their own inventions; promising themselves indeed great pleasures and full satisfactions in a licentious riotous course of life; but soon wearied with such painfull drudgeries, and many woefull disappointments, at last they begin to recollect themselves, to remember that plenty they had enjoy'd of all good things in their Father's house, how easily and happily they lived whilst [Page 305]they continued under his mild and gra­tious government, and to think of retur­ning thither again; but the sense of their horrid guilt and unworthiness flying in their faces, fills them with dismal fears and anxious despair, so that they cannot hope for any kind reception or entertain­ment after such an ungratefull rebellion.

Now let us suppose this Parable thus continued; that the Father, who was so highly provoked, had nevertheless sent his other Son, who had never offended him, into a far Countrey, exposed to many diffi­culties and hazards, to seek and find out his lost Brother, to beseech him to be re­conciled, to promise him that he should be dealt with as if he had never displeased him. Would not such condescension and unpa­rallel'd goodness have melted and dissol­ved the poor Prodigal's heart? what joy would soon have o'erspread his face? with what gladness would he have hear­ken'd to such an overture? what haste would he have made home? Could he after this have doubted of his Father's love and kindness to him?

This therefore is the greatest encou­ragement that can be given to our re­pentance, that God hath now by his Son declared himself exorable and placable, more willing to forgive, than we can be to ask it of him; and can we desire par­don and peace upon more equal and easie terms? Can any thing be conceived more reasonable, than that before our sins be forgiven, we should humbly ac­knowledge our faults, and with full pur­pose of heart resolve to doe so no more? and if such love and kindness of Heaven towards us will not beget some relenting and remorse in us, if such powerfull ar­guments will not prevail with us to grow wise and considerate, it is impossible that any should.

(2.) As for sincere obedience for the future, without which we can never be ac­cepted by God, nor be made happy; this also our Saviour hath most sufficiently en­gaged us to; by his doctrine clearly re­vealing God's mind and will to us, set­ting before us his own most excellent ex­ample, promising us all needfull help and assistence, and propounding eternal re­wards [Page 307]and punishments as the motives of our obedience.

1. He hath clearly revealed to us God's nature, and his whole mind and will concerning our salvation. He came into the world a Preacher of righteous­ness, plainly to instruct mankind in all their duty towards God, themselves, and one another. He freed men from the intolerable yoke of many burthensome and costly ceremonies, and brought in a rational service, an everlasting righteous­ness, consisting in purity, humility and charity; all his commands being such as are most becoming God to require, and most reasonable for us to perform. They are most agreeable to our best understan­dings, perfective of our natures, fitted to our necessities and capacities, the best pro­vision that can be made for the peace of our minds, quiet of our lives, and mutual happiness even in this world: they are easie and benign, humane and mercifull institutions, and all his laws such as we should chuse to govern our selves by, were we but true to our selves, and faith­full to our own interest. He hath not denied us the use or enjoyment of any [Page 308]thing but what is really evil and hurtfull to us; he hath considered our infirmi­ties and manifold temptations, maketh allowances for our wandrings and daily failings, and accepteth of sincerity in­stead of absolute perfection; so that the advantages and excellency of his laws are as great an argument to oblige us to the observance of them, as the divine autho­rity by which they were enacted.

2. Our Saviour propounded himself an example of all that he required of us, the better to direct us in our duty, and to encourage us to the performance of it; since nothing is expected from us, but what the Son of God himself was pleased to submit unto. He conversed therefore publickly in the world, in most instances that occur in humane life; giving us a pattern of an innocent and usefull con­versation, thereby to recommend his Re­ligion to us, and to oblige us to tread in his steps, and to follow him as the leader and great Captain of our salvation.

3. He hath promised, and doth con­tinually afford the mighty assistences of his holy Spirit to all those who humbly [Page 309]beg it of him, to strengthen them in every good work, and to join with, and second their faithfull endeavours. He will never fail an honest mind, nay he doth first strive with men, prevent and surprize them by his good motions and suggestions. He doth not slight any weak attempts, but cherisheth the very first beginnings of vertue and goodness. He doth not forsake us at our first refusal, but still stands at the door knocking, waiting our amendment. He is always ready at hand to help and succour us un­der all temptations or discouragements that we may meet with in our Christian course. He hath appointed many excel­lent means of grace, and even to this day hath continued his Ministers and Ambas­sadors in the world to beseech men in his name to be reconciled to God.

4. He hath engaged us to the doing of God's will by most glorious rewards, even everlasting pleasures and immortal happiness, such as eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor could it ever enter into the heart of man to conceive; and still far­ther, that no means might be omitted likely to work upon reasonable creatures, [Page 310]he hath denounced most severe threat­nings against all those who refuse to com­ply with his gratious offers, even eternal flames, remediless torments and miseries, and that they shall be doomed for ever to the company, and partake of the fate of Devils and infernal Fiends. Thus our bles­sed Lord hath propounded the most pro­per object of fear to keep men from sin, and also presented the most desireable ob­ject of hope to encourage men to be good.

And to give us the greatest assurance of all this that we can possibly desire, he hath confirmed and established his doc­trine, not onely by those undoubted mi­racles which he wrought, and sufferings he underwent in attestation to its truth and divinity, but also by his own resur­rection from the dead, and visible ascen­sion into Heaven; where in our nature he hath taken possession of that eternal joy which he purchased for us, and li­veth for ever at God's right hand to in­tercede for us, to protect and rule his Church, to distribute his gifts and graces, to subdue all our enemies, and at last to instate all his true disciples in the same glory and eternal life he is now possessed [Page 311]of; and so to become their complete Sa­viour.

All this is a very imperfect description of but a little part of what our Saviour hath really done towards the reformation and amendment of sinners: for indeed there is nothing that could have been done towards the salvation of men which this Jesus hath not done for us: And I believe all the world may be challenged to name any one help, motive or encou­ragement to the love and service of God, that is suited to the nature of God, of Man, and of Religion, which is not af­forded to us by this appearance of the Son of God in our nature to mediate for us. By the Gospel it is therefore that Christ saves sinners, which is therefore called, Rom. 1.16. the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth, to the Jew first, and then to the Greek; it being most admirably contrived to the end it was designed for, the opening of mens eyes, and turning them from dark­ness to light, and from the power of Satan to God.

And this the holy Scriptures often de­clare to us, that for this purpose was the Son of God manifested, that he might de­stroy the works of the Devil; might re­deem us from our vain conversation, re­new our minds, and form them over a­gain, and purify to himself a peculiar peo­ple zealous of good works. And all that our Saviour did and suffered for us to­wards the procuring of our pardon and peace will signify nothing to us, will not be in the least available for our benefit, unless he first save us from our sins, by washing and cleansing our natures, and subduing all our lusts and inordinate pas­sions, and making us conformable to his own image in true holiness and righte­ousness. 'Twill be no advantage to us that he was born into this world, unless he be formed in our minds, and we be­come new creatures, such as he requires us to be. Now in all this our Saviour deals with men according to their na­tures, as rational governable creatures, moves them by hopes and fears, draws them with the cords of a man, and will have heaven and happiness be the reward of their own vertuous choice and free obe­dience.

The short of all is this. In the Gospel of Jesus Christ (which as at this time he came down from Heaven to reveal to men) God Almighty, out of his infinite compassion to his degenerate creatures, hath prescribed such methods, appointed such means, given such examples, en­couragements, assistences, that nothing can be thought fit and likely to promote the salvation of all men, but what his goodness and wisedom have therein most abundantly supply'd us with, unless we would have him offer violence to the li­berty of our will, and force us to be ver­tuous and happy whether we will or no, which would be to alter our natures, and make us another sort of creatures; but such care is taken, such provision is made for our happiness, that we have nothing left us but onely the power of being mi­serable, if it be our resolved mind (not­withstanding all possible obligations to the contrary) to be so.

If men will stop their ears against the voice of the Charmer, though he charm never so wisely, if they will chuse, court and embrace sin and ruine; if the stron­gest [Page 314]arguments will not prevail, if the most forcible engagements will not per­suade; if neither the most glorious pro­mises, nor the severest threatnings, nor interest, nor self-love, nor any of those considerations by which men are swayed in other affairs, will at all move them in matters of greatest moment, they must perish, and that most deservedly and in­recoverably. If after all this sinners will die, and be damned even as it were in spite of Heaven, maugre all that God or Christ hath done for them, they must e'en thank themselves for it, and are onely to charge it upon their own wilfull and incurable folly and base contempt of such infinite love and kindness. Thus I have briefly shewn you how, or by what means, the Son of God truly became our Jesus or Saviour by saving his people from their sins.

II. It onely remaineth that in a few words I draw some conclusions from what I have said.

1. Hence we may learn, that the ho­nour of the Son of God, as Saviour of the world, is best secured and exalted by an [Page 315]actual obedience to his laws; that we ought not to shift off all duty and work from our selves upon him alone, leaving it wholly to him to save us if he pleaseth, without any care or trouble of ours, nor trust to, and relie altogether upon his righteousness and obedience, without any of our own; since, as I have shewn you, he must save us from the power of our sins, before ever he will save us from the penal consequences of them. So that the efficacy of Christ's undertaking for us, and the necessity of our own personal righteousness do very well consist toge­ther, and each hath its proper work in obtaining the pardon of our sins, and the favour of God. Our Saviour's incarna­tion and perfect obedience even unto death, is the sole meritorious cause of our acceptance with God, and of our sal­vation. He alone purchased those great benefits for us, made atonement, paid our ransome, and procured this covenant of grace from God, wherein eternal life is promised to penitent sinners. But then these great advantages are not immedi­ately and absolutely conferr'd upon us, but under certain qualifications and con­ditions of repentance, faith, and sincere [Page 316]obedience; for the performance of which the holy Spirit is never wanting to sin­cere endeavours. We do therefore vilely affront and disgrace our blessed Lord, when we boldly expect to be saved by him whilst we continue in our sins. Nay we ought to think our selves as much beholden to him for his doctrine, and the assistences of his grace, and the glorious promises of the Gospel, by which we are made truly holy and righteous, as for his sufferings and death, by which he satis­fied God's justice, and purchased the par­don of our sins.

2. I shall hence make that inference of the Apostle, Heb. 2.3. How then shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation? Hath God so abundantly provided for our happiness, hath his onely begotten Son done and suffer'd so much for it, and shall we be so sottish and stupid as foolishly to despise it, when it hath been so signally the unwearied care of Heaven to procure it for us? It is onely our own advantage that is design'd, God projects no private profit, nor doth any accrue to him from the salvation of all mankind. Shall we our selves therefore madly de­feat [Page 317]all these designs of grace and good­ness towards us by our invincible reso­lution to ruine and undoe our selves? Did the onely begotten Son of God as at this time descend from the regions of bliss and happiness, was he born into this mi­serable world, and did he humble himself to take our flesh, that by that means he might exalt mankind, and make us capa­ble of dwelling in the highest Heavens, and all this out of mere pity and compas­sion of our desperate condition; and shall we think the denying our selves a lust, or the satisfaction of a forbidden appetite, or a short-liv'd pleasure too much for the obtaining the same glory? Did he live here a poor, mean and contemptible life, and at last die a shamefull death to merit eternal life for us; and for the obtaining the same, shall we grudge to live a sober, temperate and honest life?

Oh how will this consideration one day aggravate our torment! What vexa­tion and anxiety will it one day create in our minds, with what horrour and de­spair will it fill our guilty souls? Had God predestinated us from all eternity to everlasting misery, so that it had been [Page 318]impossible for us to have avoided our sad fate; had he never provided a Mediatour and Redeemer for us, it would have been a great ease in another world to consider that we could no ways have escaped this doom. But when we shall reflect upon the infinite love and kindness of God, and how desirous he was that all men should be saved; when we shall consider the wonderfull pity and compassion of our Saviour in being born and dying for us, and procuring for us such easie terms of salvation, and so often by his Spirit mo­ving and exciting us to our duty, and the care of our souls; when we shall think of those many obligations he hath laid upon us, and the wise methods he hath used for our recovery and amend­ment; and how that nothing was wan­ting on God's part, but that we might now have been praising, blessing and ado­ring his goodness and wisedom amongst the glorified Spirits in the happy regions of undisturbed peace and joy; and yet that we through our own most shamefull neglect (though often warned to the contrary) are now forced in vain to seek but for a drop of water to cool the tip of our tongues. How will this heighten [Page 319]our future pains, and prove the very es­sence of Hell?

Better shall it be in the last day for Tyre and Sidon, for Sodom and Gomorrah, places overrun with lust and barbarity; for the Nations that sit in darkness, and never heard of these glad tidings of a Sa­viour, than for you to whom this salva­tion is come; but you cast it behind your backs. The fiercest vengeance, the severest punishments are reserved for wicked Christians, and what can we imagine shall be the just portion of those whom neither the condescension and kindness, nor wounds and sufferings of the Son of God could persuade; nor yet the excellency, easiness and profitable­ness of his commands invite, nor the pro­mises of unexpressible rewards allure, nor the threatnings of eternal punishment en­gage to live and be happy?

In vain therefore do such come hither to celebrate the memory of Christ's birth. They of all men who despise this great salvation, purchased by the Son of God, have no great cause to rejoyce this day; nay, happy had it been for them (who [Page 320]still persist in their sins, notwithstanding all that Christ hath done to save them from them) if this holy Jesus had never been born.

3. Lastly, Let us all improve this pre­sent opportunity to return our most hum­ble praises and thanksgivings for so great and unvaluable a blessing, and to join our voices, as well as we are able, with those bright Seraphims and that heavenly Host that attended and celebrated Christ's nativity; (when the Heavens proclaimed his birth with their loud shouts of joy) saying, Glory be to God in the highest, on earth peace, good-will towards men.

Blessed be God, for ever blessed be his holy name, who hath found out a way for our deliverance, and hath raised up for us a mighty salvation; that we being delivered out of the hands of our enemies, might serve him without fear, in holiness and righteousness before him all the days of our life. Praise therefore the Lord, O our souls, and all that is within us praise his holy name; and forget not all his benefits, who forgiveth all our iniquities, and hea­leth all our diseases; who hath redeemed [Page 321]our life from destruction, and hath crowned us with loving-kindness and tender mer­cies.

What shall we now return, what do we not owe to him who came down from his imperial Throne, and infinitely deba­sing himself, and eclipsing the brightness of his glorious Majesty, became a ser­vant, nay a curse, for our sakes, to ad­vance our estate, and to raise us to a par­ticipation of his divine nature, and his eternal glory and bliss?

To him therefore let us now all offer up our selves, our souls and bodies and spirits, and that not onely to be saved by him, but to be ruled and governed by him; and this he will take as a better ex­pression of our gratitude, than if we spent never so many days in verbal praises and acknowledgments of his love and bounty.

Let us all open our hearts and breasts to receive and entertain this great friend of mankind, this glorious lover of our souls, and suffer him to take full posses­sion of them, and there to place his throne, and to reign within us without [Page 322]any rival or competitour; and let us humbly beg of him, that he would be pleased to finish that work in us which he came into the world about; that by his bloud he would cleanse and wash us from all filthiness both of flesh and spirit; that he would save us from our sins here, and then we need not fear his saving us from everlasting destruction hereafter.

Which God of his infinite mercy grant to us all for the alone sake of our blessed Lord and Redeemer, to whom with the Father, &c.

THOUGH repentance be a duty never out of season, nay is in­deed the work and business of our whole lives, all of us being obliged every day to amend, yet there are some particular times, wherein we are [Page 324]more especially called upon, to review our actions, to humble our souls in God's presence, to bewail our manifold trans­gressions, and to devote our selves afresh to his service; such are times of afflic­tion, either personal or publick, when extraordinary judgments are abroad in the earth, or are impendent over us; or when we our selves are visited with any sickness or grievous calamity: so also be­fore we receive the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, we are then more strictly to examine our selves, and renew our vows and resolutions of living better. And to name no more, the Church in all ages hath thought fit to set a-part some solemn times to call upon men more ear­nestly to repent, and to seek God's face before it be too late; such were the fa­sting-days before the feast of the resur­rection or Easter; and accordingly our Church, as you have heard in the exhor­tation this day read to you, doth at this time especially move us to earnest and true repentance; that we should return unto our Lord God with all contrition and meekness of heart, bewailing and lamenting our sinfull lives, acknowledging and confes­sing our offences, and seeking to bring forth [Page 325]worthy fruits of penance. And such as now seriously set themselves to repent of all the sins they have committed, using such abstinence as is necessary for the subduing the flesh to the spirit, do cer­tainly keep Lent far better than they who for so long time onely scrupulously abstain from all flesh, and call filling themselves with the choicest fish, sweet­meats and wine, fasting.

I shall at this time suppose you suffici­ently instructed in the nature of repen­tance, (it being one of the first principles of the doctrine of Christ, as the Apostle to the Hebrews calls it, Heb. 6.1.) and also that you will readily acknowledge the indispensible necessity of it, in order to the obtaining the pardon of your sins, and eternal life: and that which I now design, is onely to set before you some, if not the main hindrances and impedi­ments that keep men from repentance, and to endeavour to remove them; and I shall discourse in order of these three of the many that might be mentioned.

I. Want of consideration.

II. The unsuccesfulness of some for­mer attempts; when men have resolved and begun to reform, but have soon found all their good purposes and endeavours blasted and defeated, this discourageth them from making any farther trials.

III. The hopes of long life, and some better opportunity of repenting hereafter.

One of these is commonly the ground and cause of those mens remaining in an impenitent state, who yet are convinced of the absolute necessity of repentance in order to their peace and happiness.

I. Want of consideration. For could men but once be persuaded seriously and in good earnest, as becometh reasonable creatures, to consider their ways and ac­tions, patiently to attend to the dictates of their own minds, and soberly to weigh the reasons and consequences of things, their is no doubt to be made, but Reli­gion would every day gain more prose­lytes, vertue and righteousness would prosper and flourish more in the world, and men would soon become ashamed [Page 327]and afraid of nothing so much as vice and wickedness. Of such infinite mo­ment are the matters of Religion, so mighty and strong are the arguments which it propounds to us, so clear and convincing are the evidences it gives us of its truth and certainty; so agreeable to our minds are all its principles, so amiable and excellent its precepts, so pleasant and advantageous is the practice of them, that there seemeth nothing far­ther required to make all men in love with it, but onely that they would open their eyes to behold its beauty, that they would not stop their ears against all its most alluring charms.

Let men but once throughly ponder the folly and mischief of sin, with the benefits and rewards of piety and an holy life; let them but compare their several interests together, and look sometimes beyond things present unto that state wherein they are to live for ever, and use their understandings about these mat­ters as they do about other affairs, and it is impossible they should enjoy any to­lerable peace or ease without a carefull and strict provision for another world. [Page 328]Vice oweth its quiet possession of mens minds onely to their stupidity and inad­vertency, to their carelesness and incon­sideration: it reigns undisturbedly onely in ignorant, secure, unthinking spirits, but streight loseth all its force and power when once men begin to look about them, and bethink themselves what they are doing, and whither they are going. Could we but once gain thus much of wicked men, to make a stand, and pause a little, and to cease but a while from the violent pursuit of their pleasures, and fairly reflect upon their lives, and see what is the fruit of all their past follies, and consider the end and issue of these things; could we, I say, but obtain thus much, we might spare most of our pains spent in persuading them to repent, their own thoughts would never suffer them to be in quiet till they had done it. Let us but once begin to deliberate and examine, and we are sure on which side the advan­tage will lie: sin and wickedness can ne­ver stand a trial, let our own reasons be but judges; it hates nothing so much as to be brought to the light. A vitious man, however he may brave it in the world, yet can never justify or approve himself [Page 329]to his own free thoughts; and however he may plead for sin before others, yet he can never answer the objections his own conscience would bring against it, would he but once dare impartially to consider them.

But the misery of wicked men is, that they industriously banish all such trouble­some guests out of their minds, instead of debating with themselves, the reasona­bleness and fitness of any of their actions, they will not endure so much as to hold any parly or discourse with themselves; they endeavour either by a constant suc­cession of sensual delights to charm and lull asleep, or else by a counter-noise of revellings and riotous excesses to drown the softer whispers of their consciences; or else the hurry and tumult of this world, multiplicity of business and secular affairs, temporal projects and designs, and bo­dily concerns, do so wholly engross and prepossess their thoughts, that they are not at leisure for any such serious reflex­ions. They chuse to divert themselves by any folly or vanity, by which they may stiflle and choak all such good motions; they hate nothing so much as [Page 330]being alone, or at a distance from their dear companions in sin, for fear lest some affrighting apprehensions should steal or force their way in; till at last they come to inherit the portion of fools; that is, for ever lament and curse their own in­cogitance and indiscretion.

Now till wicked men enter into such deep and earnest consideration of them­selves and their own estates, it is as im­possible that the means of grace, the calls of the Gospel, or the motions of God's Spirit, should have any force or efficacy upon them, as that a man's body should be nourished by meat that he doth not di­gest, or that a medicine put into a man's pocket should preserve his health. The most invincible arguments cannot gain as­sent till they first obtain attention; and it is all one to be wholly ignorant of, or not to consider the danger we are in; and there­fore the ordinary way by which God brings such men to repentance, is first by some sudden affliction or affrighting providence to awaken and rouse them up to a serious consideration of their evil ways, and de­sperate condition, which by degrees may improve into an hearty contrition, and thorough reformation.

And oh that I could now prevail with any one that hath hitherto lived in ease, in a course of disobedience to God's laws, to go home and diligently consider with himself, and count up what he hath got by all his most beloved sins, what a dreadfull and manifest danger he runs, how sad and dismal his reckoning one day must needs be; how inexcusable he is in his folly, how short the pleasures of sin are, and how sore the punishments, and that it is yet, through God's grace, possible for him to escape them; and these and such like thoughts for a while cherished, would surely beget relentings, or at least resolutions of repentance and amendment: and if we would doe thus frequently, if we would daily set our selves to this work, we should be more and more confirmed in such good pur­poses.

It is much to be hoped, that none of us here present, who shew so much re­spect to Religion, as to join in the solemn worship of God, are so far hardned in sin, but that we have some lucid inter­vals, some sober moods, wherein we give our consciences leave to speak to, [Page 332]and admonish us; an uneasie bed, a bro­ken sleep, will ever and anon bring these things to your remembrance; oh do not streight fly from them, nor thrust them out of your minds; nay be not conten­ted onely to give them a fair hearing, but never leave thinking of them, and revol­ving them over in your minds, till they have transformed you into new crea­tures.

For if you will not consider these things now, let me tell you, the time will surely shortly come, when you shall consider them whether you will or no; when your sins shall set themselves in or­der before you, and it shall not be in your power to forget them, or to divert your thoughts from those things which you are now so loth to think upon. Here indeed in this life the thoughts of God and a future state often present and offer themselves to us, they often spring up in our minds, and when expelled, recur a­gain; but men find out several ways and artifices whereby to hinder their fixing or abiding upon their spirits, or at all in­fluencing their lives; but the time will come, when we shall be forced to bring [Page 333]our evil ways to remembrance, and yet then consideration will doe us no good, nor serve to any other purpose, but onely to aggravate our misery, and double our torment. This is the first most general hindrance of repentance, want of consideration.

II. Another hindrance of repentance is the unsuccesfulness of some former at­tempts; for when men have resolved, and perhaps begun to reform, but have soon found all their good purposes and endeavours blasted and defeated, they are apt to be thereby discouraged from making any farther trials. They have long had it in the purpose of their hearts to leave their sins, nay sometimes they have prevailed against them for some time, and withstood some fair tempta­tions, but yet at last nature did, they know not how, return, and they have been persuaded to renew their old ac­quaintance with those sins which they had once forsaken: and in their conflicts with sin they have been so often foiled, that they now despair of ever getting the day; should they once again resolve to enter upon a new course of life, they fear [Page 334]they should onely add to the number of their offences, the breach of this vow, as they have already of many others which they formerly made.

This is the condition of many men in the world, and a very dangerous one it is; they have not yet sinn'd themselves past all sense or feeling, but have some regrets and frequent remorses, and when their spirits are at any time disturbed with the sense of their guilt, they then bethink themselves seriously of retur­ning to a better mind, resolve upon a new life, and that presently too, and perform some duties in order to it, and are for a little time more carefull and watchfull over themselves, and their ways; but they are soon disheartened, their goodness is but like a morning cloud, and as the early dew it passeth away, they are soon again easily frighted or tempted from their duty; upon any little discou­ragement that they meet with, they repent themselves of their good choice, and for­get their vertuous resolutions, and, which is worst of all, this they often doe; they often resolve to begin, and as often ne­glect to perform what they promised; [Page 335]and thus they continue running an end­less wearisome circle, of sinning, and then resolving against it, and then upon the next inviting opportunity sinning a­gain; till at last, when they have found so many trials and essays prove fruitless and unsuccesfull, and their good pur­poses so often overpower'd, they e'en fit down contented slaves to their vices and lusts.

But notwithstanding all this, what I have now represented to you, ought not in the least to discourage your endea­vours of amendment, but should rather engage you to greater deliberation, cir­cumspection and caution in your procee­ding in it. That your good purposes have so often proved ineffectual, is not a reason for not resolving again, but onely for not doing it rashly, inconsiderately, and by halves. The fault is certainly your own, that you have so frequently failed and come short; it was not from any defect on God's part, in not affor­ding you sufficient grace, but you were some way plainly wanting and unfaithfull to your selves. And the miscarriage of former trials onely ad­monisheth [Page 336]you to begin again with grea­ter care, courage and sincerity.

I shall therefore briefly mention to you the chief conditions or qualifications of such a resolution as is like to hold out a­gainst all temptations and opposition, by which we may also see how it comes to pass that mens good purposes do so often prove abortive.

1. If we would resolve effectually, we must take care to found our good pur­poses upon such reasons and arguments as are universal, and oblige us to a thorough change, and hold indifferently for all places, circumstances and conditions. Our pious resolutions must not be made upon any contingent particular reasons, which may soon chance to cease, and when they do, we shall be in manifest danger of returning back to our old courses. For instance, Suppose any one to be surprised in any base and unworthy action, and to have endured the shame and punishment of it, and upon these ac­counts to resolve with himself, that he will never be guilty of the same again; but afterwards it happens that this man [Page 337]meets with such a temptation to that sin, as that he may be confident of commit­ting it with privacy and safety; judge you, whether, if he be not furnished with other arguments, he will not cer­tainly fall into the snare, and break all his former vows to the contrary: and this is the case of all those who resolve for the practice of Religion, for some particular convenience, or to avoid some present evil, such as loss of credit, trade or gain, to preserve their health, to ob­lige their relations, to please their supe­riours, or the like for these at the best are but slight and mean arguments for Religion, and they commonly hold a­gainst some sins onely; and circum­stances may easily be so changed, that they may become no reasons or argu­ments at all.

Thus one man resolves to live well, because he finds he shall not live long; but a good air, temperate diet, and wholsome physick alter the state of his body and mind both together: and so the intemperate person, when he hath filled and stretch'd his vessels with wine to their utmost capacity, and is grown [Page 338]weary and sick, and feels those qualmes and disturbances that usually attend such excesses, resolves then, that he will here­after contain himself within the bounds of sobriety; till within a little while he recovers his former debauch, and is well again, and then his appetite returns, and his company invites, and he forgets both the trouble that his sin created, and the promises that he made against it.

But now he that would resolve for re­pentance and amendment successfully, must doe it upon such grounds as these; namely, the evil and baseness of sin it self, and the excellency of vertue and goodness, out of the sense of his subjec­tion to his Maker, and the worth and value of his own immortal soul; out of gratitude to God and our blessed Saviour, who hath done and suffered so much for us, out of a full belief of God's continual presence with us, and inspection over us, and the strict account he will one day call us to; out of fear of the vexations of a di­sturbed conscience, and those eternal mi­series that await all impenitent sinners, and out of hopes of that glory and happi­ness, which shall be the reward of well­doing: [Page 339]for these reasons will at all times serve to stablish and confirm our vertuous resolutions, they will always hold good, as long as men are in their wits, they are sufficient to answer every temptation, and oblige equally against all sin, in all places, and upon all occasions.

2. Let our resolutions be made upon the maturest, and most deliberate consi­deration of all things that can occur to our thoughts: An hasty sudden vow is soon forgot, and this is one great reason why mens good purposes so often fail; namely, that when they are serious and devout, or scared, they then in the ge­neral, and in gross resolve for the future to live well and religiously, when yet, alas! they know not what is meant by it; and so when they come to be tried in any particular part of Religion, this they never thought of before, nor did they ever intend to oblige themselves to it.

Before therefore thou engagest thy self, consider well all circumstances, and the several instances of Religion; what thou must part with, what companies [Page 340]thou must forsake, what friendship and acquaintance thou must renounce, what pleasures and profits thou must deny thy self, what strict duty and service will be required of thee; and then most seriously examine thy self, can I march through all these inconveniences, and overcome all the difficulties and temptations that may or can befall me in this new enter­prise? consult thy judgment, affections and inclinations, and make thy determi­nation upon every particular, and be al­ways as jealous and suspicious of thy self as possibly thou canst, always remem­bring that vast difference that there is be­tween things as they are onely represen­ted to us by our fancies, and when they become actually and sensibly present to us: This I must doe, that I must avoid; I must never gratify this lust, no not once more, whatever opportunity, provocation or desire I may have to it; I must hold to this practice not onely this day, not onely at some certain times and seasons, but constantly throughout the whole course of my life, shall I not soon grow weary of such strictness? All my world­ly affairs, all my fleshly pleasures must give place to this resolution; and can [Page 341]my heart fully, without any reserve, consent to such an universal alteration? How many will this change offend? how many flouts and jeers must I expose my self to by this repentance? how shall I answer such an old acquaintance when he invites me to an intemperate cup? can I now wholly abstain from what I have so long allowed my self in?

Thus consider all things well and tho­roughly in thy mind before thou dost re­solve, that it may be the deliberate act of the whole man, that thy understan­ding may perfectly approve of it, being fully convinced of its reasonableness; that thy will may wholly consent to it, that all thy affections may yield up themselves and submit to it, so that nothing that can befall thee afterwards may be able to stag­ger thee because it was not foreseen, or make thee doubt of the wisedom of thy choice.

3. Renew these thy good purposes of­ten, every day, yea many times every day, at least whilst they are fresh, and thou art just beginning thy repentance; frequently propound the same things to [Page 342]thy thoughts and judgment, that thou mayst see it is not any particular heat or fancy that forms thy resolution.

For this is another ordinary cause why some mens good resolutions do not hold but, namely, because they are the acci­dental effect of some passionate commo­tion within them, of some fright or di­sturbance, rather than their deliberate judgment; they depend upon some pre­sent heat, good mood or pang of devo­tion, which lasts not long upon them, and so consequently their resolutions have but little force and efficacy. There are some men of that facile temper, that they are wrought upon by every object they converse with, whom any affectio­nate discourse, or serious Sermon, or any notable accident, shall put into a fit of religion, which yet usually lasts no lon­ger, than till somewhat else comes in their way, and blots out those impres­sions, and these men are good or bad as it happens; for it is not likely that men of such volatile loose tempers should make any lasting resolutions, either in matters of Religion, or even in any o­ther instances whatever.

Ask your self therefore the next day, whether you are still of the same mind; after some intermission put the cause a­gain to examination, after that thy mind hath been diverted by other matters, and thy thoughts employed in other affairs, so that the warmth of thy first imagina­tion is now over, try then whether thou approvest of the same things: Doth not thy heart begin to stumble, and draw back, and shrink from the undertaking? dost thou not begin to think of some instance of thy duty wherein thou desirest to be excused, or some sin which thou wouldst fain have excepted? dost thou not han­ker after a greater liberty in some things? if not, I know no better sign in the world of a good resolution, and such as is like to hold out than this, when we keep the same mind in our different tempers, and several states of life. And think not all this care too much, or too troublesome, since it is necessary onely for a-while, till we are well setled and confirmed in this change, or new life. Try thy self when thou art sound and in health, as well as when under a fit of the stone or gout; when thou art merry and brisk, as well [Page 344]as when thou art sad and melancholy; and if thou still find'st reason to persist in the same resolution, thou mayst doe well, the more to fix thy self, to back it with a solemn vow and protestation to Al­mighty God, that by his grace thou wilt keep firm and steadfast to it to the end of thy life. And it hath been farther advi­sed, that we should commit this to wri­ting, keep it safe by us as our act and deed, by which we have devoted and gi­ven up our selves to God, and often reade it over, and examine our faithfulness to it, as that which shall one day be produced against us to our everlasting confusion, if we do not discharge and satisfy it. Let us also take the first occasion to renew and confirm these vows and resolutions at the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, there a­gain bind thy self to perform all that thou hast promised; there by that sacred body and bloud thou commemoratest, oblige thy self never to start wilfully from God's service, whatever difficulties thou mayst encounter with, what temptations soever thou mayst have to forsake it; and surely this, if any thing, is sufficient to make us constant as long as any sense of God or Christ remains in our minds.

4. Make known this thy good resolu­tion to the world, be not ashamed to own this change to other persons, as fit occasions may be offered: let them know that thy mind is now altered, that thou art not the same person thou wert before, that they are much mistaken if they ex­pect the same discourse, the same compli­ances, the same practices from thee as be­fore; that thou art now resolved to serve thy Lord and Master even unto death, and never for the world to doe any thing that doth displease him; that by the help of God, thou hast fully determined, never to be any more false to thy Christian Pro­fession, and that thou dost glory in this thy unfeigned resolution.

This will hinder others from tempting thee, and make them see it is in vain any more to assault or trouble thee; nay, and it will be a mighty confirmation and se­curity to thee, for then thou wilt have this great argument to continue true to this promise and engagement, lest by breaking it, thou shouldst most justly be­come a sport and mock to those to whom thou hast made it known, and they [Page 346]should say of thee, as our Saviour saith of the foolish builder, behold this man began to build, but was not able to finish.

5. Having fixed so good a purpose of mind, fail not to apply your self to the diligent conscientious use of all those means of grace which God hath prescri­bed and appointed, for the vanquishing of sin, and for the obtaining vertue and goodness: Many men suppose they have done enough, when they have once brought their minds to a resolution, though they then never think more of it; they think there is piety and security sufficient in resolving for the end, though they never consider nor concern them­selves about the means; they look upon a good resolution as a kind of holy charm, and if they do but intend to mend their lives, they reckon their lives will mend a­lone, without any farther pain or trouble.

But such had best try first what money they can get by onely resolving to be rich, without taking any pains for it; or let them see whether learning will come of it self, without any reading or study, to a man that onely resolves to be learned.

Nothing hath done more mischief in the world, hath made Christians more lazy and secure, or given greater occa­sion to that prevailing Religion without vertue amongst us, than this one prin­ciple, that we are converted (as 'tis usu­ally called) by those operations of God's Spirit, wherein we are wholly passive; so that it is in vain to strive, contend and labour for the making our selves holy, as we must doe for the attaining of any other perfections and accomplishments, since the habits of all goodness are supernatural­ly infused into us: But this is all but fancy and idle talk, for the Spirit of God works not now a days, but according to the me­thods of reason and discourse, assisting us whilst we sincerely use such moral means as Religion teaches, or reason prescribes, and that with as much diligence, vigour and constancy, as if we had no assistence at all, but were wholly left to our selves; so that the way to recover our selves to a Christian temper of mind after a vitious course of life, is in truth the very same by which a man recovers his health after a long disease, viz. by God's blessing up­on the diligent use of fit means; and any [Page 348]other way is no more now to be expec­ted than prophecy or miracles.

The reformation of an habitual sinner is a work of time and patience; evil cus­toms must be mastered and subdued by degrees; and we must be forced to de­stine particular times, and to use particu­lar proper means for the gaining of the several graces required in a Christians we must first encounter one vice or lust, then another; and after we have done our best, yet perhaps a temptation may sur­prise us unawares, and we may fall again into the mire even after we have washed our selves in some measure, and so create our selves new work and greater trouble: we must expect sometimes to come off by the worst, before we obtain the final conquest; and our lusts, after they have been routed, may perchance rally, and make head again.

We must not therefore be presently discouraged, or faint and grow weary in these our conflicts with sin and vice; for if we can but bear undauntedly the first shock, and stand out the first assaults, the force of our enemies will sensibly de­cline, [Page 349]we shall every day gain ground, the work will grow much easier upon our hands; and the means of grace, if we are but constant and unwearied in the use of them, will never fail of success.

6. Lastly, Let us always second our good resolutions with devout prayers for the aids of God's holy Spirit to strengthen us in this our undertaking; to animate us with patience and courage, to fight for us, and with us, against all the ene­mies of our souls; that he would furnish us with an inward power in our minds, whereby our evil inclinations may be changed, and that by the strength of his grace we may be freed from those ill im­pressions that formerly subdued us.

For by this means God is not onely made an assistent, but a witness and a party, and our resolutions come near to the nature of a vow; by this we daily oblige our selves afresh to God, and re­new our resolutions, this adds the grea­test strength and solemnity to them; and though they were at first begun upon too slight considerations, or too suddenly or weakly made, yet when once we seri­ously [Page 350]make God concerned in them, they will then become firm and strong: And indeed he that finds in himself no mind to pray to God for his assistence, his re­solutions, be they what they will, are certainly vain; his neglect to implore God's aid, is a sure sign that he hath no mind to keep them.

Often therefore prostrate your selves at his footstool, beseech him not to de­spise the day of small things, not to quench the smoaking flax, nor to break the bruised reed, that he would be pleased to bless and prosper these beginnings and first attempts towards a new life; profess your dependence upon his help and as­sistence, and beg of him most earnestly never to leave you, nor forsake you.

And if thus resolved, thus trusting up­on God's grace, thus diligent in the use of all due means, we yet fail of over­coming our sins and lusts; I shall then readily confess, that there is but little heed to be given to the promises of the Gospel, that our misery is unavoidable, and that God hath not provided a suffi­cient remedy for sinners: but therefore [Page 351]it is onely that we so often fall short, and find temptations too hard for all our good purposes, because we resolve but by halves, and unadvisedly, we resolve we know not what, we doe it rashly or sillily, or hu­moursomely, upon no reasons, or none that will hold. This is the second hindrance of mens repentance, the unsuccesfulness of former resolutions, which ought to be laid onely at our own door, and charged upon our selves as our own fault.

III. Another great hindrance of mens repentance is the hope of long life, and better opportunity of repenting hereafter. And indeed of all the Devil's artifices to keep men off from amending their lives, this is that which prevails most, and with most men, they content themselves with a repentance in reversion, and continually postpone this one thing necessary; After this or that business is dispatched, this or that lust satisfied, this or that turn ser­ved, when their bodies are as infirm as their souls, then they will take care of both together. If you look abroad into the world, you will find this is that by which chiefly wicked men maintain the quiet and peace of their minds; for they [Page 352]cannot endure to think of passing out of this life, and appearing before God in an impenitent state; but their full purpose is to doe something, some time or other, they cannot well tell what nor when, by which they hope to make some amends for all their former follies and miscar­riages.

This therefore is our most difficult task, not so much to persuade men of the necessity of repentance, as to prevail with them unalterably to fix a time when this change shall begin, and the care of Reli­gion take place: we find it most hard to convince them that it is necessary now at this very present to set about it: we are thought a little too hot and hasty, when we press wicked men to leave their sins to day; even whilst it is called to day, as long as they have so much time before them to doe it in. This is the most fatal cheat men put upon themselves, so that I doubt not to say, that the infernal regions of darkness and despair are not crowded by any sort of persons so much as by those who fully designed and intended to have repented before they died.

It were easie now at large to shew the infinite unreasonableness and danger of such delay; but I shall content my self with propounding to you these two con­siderations.

1. That if we be unwilling to repent now, it is not likely that we shall be more willing at any other time.

2. That if we think our selves not able to doe it now, we shall be less able here­after.

(1.) If we be unwilling to repent and amend now, it is not likely that we shall be more willing or inclined to it at any other time: for the same reason that makes any man defer it now, will be as forcible and prevalent at another time. Since the man hath found no great incon­venience from the sins of the last week or month, he sees not why he may not as well venture on them for another, and after that he says he will certainly become a new man; but when that time comes, yet still God continues his patience, and is not weary of bearing with him, so that [Page 354]he'll think he may still venture to put it off once more, and then he will not fail to perform his good intentions of amen­ding his life.

And this is most probably the conse­quence of such vain purposes of leaving our sins hereafter; for the onely objec­tion we have against doing it now, is be­cause this time is present, and we are loth as yet to put our selves to so much trouble and pain as this work doth require; and therefore when to morrow is as this day, and comes to be present too, we shall for the same reason for which we defer it till then, put it off still to another day, and so it will be always a day or more to that day when we shall begin to repent.

So that this ought rather to be called a full purpose of committing sin to day, than a resolution of leaving it to mor­row: he that resolves to be vertuous, but not till some time hereafter, resolves against being vertuous in the mean time; and as vertue at such a distance is easily resolved on, so it is as easie a matter al­ways to keep it at that distance: the next week, says the sinner, I will begin to be [Page 355]sober and temperate, serious and devout; but the true sense of what he says, is this, I am fully bent to spend this present week in riot and excess, in sensuality and prophaneness, or whatever vice it is that I indulge my self in; and if we doe thus often, if it be our common course to put off our repentance thus from time to time, this is a most shrewd sign, that in­deed we never intend to repent at all: This is onely a pitifull device and excuse to shift off the duty wholly; and so we should interpret it in any man who should deal with us after the same man­ner in our worldly affairs.

It is with wicked men in this case, as it is with a bankrupt, when his Credi­tours are loud and clamorous, speak big and threaten high, he giveth them many good words and fair promises, appoints them to come another day, entreats their patience but a little longer, and then he will satisfy them all; when yet the man really intends not to pay one far­thing, nor ever thinks of compassing the money against the time: Thus do men endeavour to pacify and quiet their con­sciences, by telling them they will hear [Page 356]them another time; but this is onely to delude and cheat their consciences with good words, and specious pretences, ma­king them believe, they will certainly doe, what yet they cannot endure to think of, and what they would fain wholly excuse themselves from; but yet this is not all, for

(2.) We shall be less able to repent, and more indisposed for the work at ano­ther time than we are now. That which makes men so loth to be brought to re­flect upon their lives past, is (as I before observed) the uneasiness and trouble they think they shall find in such a work; so a great Trader, that hath good reason to think he is run much behind-hand in the world, of all things hates to look in­to his Books, cannot endure to hear of stating his accounts, and yet the longer he defers this, his accounts will become more intricate, he'll still run more in debt, his condition will every day grow worse and worse, till at last 'tis past all re­covery: and thus it is with wicked men, they would fain defer their repentance as long as ever they can, they would not yet be interrupted with such grave and [Page 357]serious thoughts; but the mischief is, the longer they defer it, the more they have still to repent of; and not onely so, but they become more unable and unfit for such a work; they are still more back­ward and averse, as having been longer used and accustomed to their sins, and as having contracted greater familiarity with, and kindness for them; and by such delay their ill habits grow more confirmed, their lusts and passions be­come stronger and more potent, and even their very natural powers and fa­culties are by degrees weakned and disa­bled.

And for this reason, the sooner we be­gin a religious course of life, the more easie it will prove to us, not onely be­cause in the time of youth we are most capable of any impressions, our natures being then most soft and tender, but also because if we begin betimes, there is so much the less change to be made in our lives and tempers, our repentance then is like a man's returning into the right road as soon as ever he was out of his way, he hath but a few paces to go back.

You therefore who have not yet lost all your natural modesty, who yet blush at your vices, whose hearts are not yet hardned in sin, would you but presently without any delay, apply your selves to the service of God, and practice of Reli­gion, what abundance of care and trou­ble might you save your selves? how many sad days and sorrowfull nights might you prevent? it is in your power now upon easie terms to become good and vertuous, and the sooner you begin, the less sorrow, the less self-denial, the less pains will suffice.

Now therefore, even this very day let us set about it, and he that hath done wickedly, let him not dare to doe the same so much as once more; let us re­solve never to have any parley with our lusts, but to make some considerable pro­gress in our repentance, before ever we give sleep to our eyes, or slumber to our eyelids; let not any worldly business, or the cares of this life, or even our neces­sary employments, much less sinfull and vain pleasures, stifle or choak any good thoughts or resolutions, that, during this [Page 359]exercise, may be raised in our minds: we have trifled too long already about a matter of such infinite moment, it is per­fect madness to dally any longer, when our souls, which are ten thousand times more worth than our lives, are at stake: If we begin this very moment, God knows, we begin late enough, and who knows but to morrow may be too late? had we been wise we should have begun sooner.

A long and eternal adieu therefore (let us every one say) to all the unlaw­full bewitching pleasures of this world, I will no longer be fooled or imposed upon by them, nor one day more live in such a state, as I shall be afraid to die in: from this hour I change my service, I now lay my self down at the feet of my blessed Master; without any farther disputing the case, I will immediately begin my journey to my father's house; I will as soon defer eating, drinking or sleeping, as delay to secure my everlasting salva­tion, to become sound and healthfull, to be at ease and in peace, to be safe and happy.

And for our encouragement to this, I shall onely, for the conclusion of all, add, that however great and heinous our sins have been, yet we cannot be more ready to ask, than God is to grant us our par­don; we cannot be more forward to re­turn, than he is to receive us into his em­braces. And because we know our selves obnoxious to his severe justice, and that he is a God of truth and faithfulness, as well as of mercy and compassion, and that he hateth sin with a perfect hatred; there­fore that we might not have the least sus­picion remaining in us of his unwilling­ness to forgive such high provocations and offences as we may have been guilty of, he hath been pleased to send his onely begotten Son into the world, to lay down his life a ransome for us, to stand between us and God's justice, and by his dismal sufferings and cursed death to expiate our offences: so that we have not onely the infinite goodness of the divine nature to trust to, but the vertue and efficacy of that sacrifice which the Son of God made of himself, to plead for our forgiveness, upon our repentance and amendment.

Nor was our blessed Saviour onely our propitiation to die for us, and procure our attonement, but he is still our Advo­cate, continually interceding with his Fa­ther, in the behalf of all true penitents, and suing out their pardon for them in the Court of Heaven: If any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous, who deprecates anger, mi­tigates wrath; and not onely barely in­tercedes for us, but with authority de­mands the release of his captives, redee­med by his bloud, by virtue of God's promise and covenant.

And in order to the sufficient promul­gation of this his gratious willingness to forgive us upon our repentance, God hath provided and appointed an order of men, to last as long as the world doth, to pro­pound to men this blessed overture, and in God's name to beseech men to be recon­ciled to him.

Nay God condescends to prevent the worst of men, by manifold blessings and favours daily obliging them, by his grace and spirit and several providences to­wards [Page 362]them, moving, affecting and awa­kening the most grievous offenders to a timely consideration of their ways. Though highly provoked, he yet begins first with us, so desirous is he of our welfare.

He hath not onely outwardly pro­claimed pardon to all that will submit, and sent his own Son on this message of peace, but inwardly, by his spirit and grace, he solicites men to comply with it, even where it is resisted and despised; he forsaketh not men at their first denial, he giveth them time to bethink and re­collect themselves; he doth not lie at the catch, nor take present advantage against us, but with infinite patience waits to be gratious to us, hoping at last we shall be of a better mind: he doth not soon de­spair of mens conversion and reformation, he yet extends his grace towards those who abuse it, and offers his pardon to those who slight it; nothing is more highly pleasing and acceptable to him, than for a sinner to return from the evil of his ways; nay, which is more yet, he is not onely, upon our repentance, ready to overlook all that is past, but he hath [Page 363]promised to reward our future obedience with eternal life, so that we shall not onely upon our repentance be freed from those dismal punishments which we had rendred our selves liable to, but likewise receive from God such a glorious recom­pence, as is beyond all our conception or imagination. Now if such love and kind­ness of Heaven towards us will not beget some relentings and remorse in us, if such powerfull arguments will not prevail with us to grow wise and considerate, it is impossible any should.

Let us all therefore smite upon our breasts, and say, O Lord, we are highly sensible of our folly, of our unworthiness and foul ingratitude; for we have sinned against thee, and done evil in thy sight, and are no more worthy to be called thy children: but we have heard that the great King of the World is a most merci­full King, that he delights not in the death of sinners, but had rather they should repent and live: we cannot lon­ger withstand or oppose such unspeakable goodness, we are overcome by such won­derfull kindness and condescention, we resign up our selves wholly to the con­duct [Page 364]of his good spirit, and will never withdraw or alienate our selves from him any more; we will now become God's true and loyal subjects, and continue such as long as we breathe, nor shall any thing in the world be able to shake or corrupt our faith and allegiance to him.

What punishment can be too sore, what state black and dismal enough for those who contemn all these offers and kind­nesses of Heaven? who will not by any means be won, to look after, and have mercy upon themselves, to consult their own interest and welfare? what pity can they expect, who obstinately chuse to be miserable, in despite of all the goodness of God, and grace of the Gospel?

The Lord grant, that we may all in this our day, know and mind the things that belong to our everlasting peace, before they are hid from our eyes.

THE Apostle having in the begin­ning of this Chapter most firm­ly established the truth and rea­lity of our Saviour's resurrection from the dead, proceeds to infer from thence the certainty of our own resurrection, v. 12, 13. Now if Christ be preached that he rose from the dead, how say some among you that there is no resurrection of the dead? But if there be no resurrection of the dead, then is not Christ risen. ‘It cannot now any longer seem an impossible or incre­dible thing to you that God should raise the dead, since you have so plain and undoubted an example of it in the per­son of our blessed Lord, who having been truly dead and buried, is now [Page 366]alive, and hath appeared unto many with the visible marks of his crucifixion still remaining in his body.’ And to shew of what general concernment his re­surrection was, the graves were opened, as St. Matthew tells us, and many bodies of Saints which slept, arose, and came out of the graves after his resurrection, and appeared unto many; the same power which raised Jesus from the dead, is able also to quicken our mortal bodies.

Now in my Text the Apostle brings in some sceptical person objecting against this doctrine of the resurrection of the dead, But some man will say, how are the dead raised up? and with what body do they come? Two questions that every one almost is ready to start, especially those who love to cavil at Religion; and it hath not a little puzled such as have un­dertaken to give a rational account of our faith to give a full and satisfactory answer to them. ‘How can these things be? How is it possible that those bodies should be raised again, and joined to the souls which formerly inhabited them, which many thousand years ago were either buried in the Earth, or [Page 367]swallowed up in the Sea, or devoured by fire; which have been dissolved in­to the smallest atoms, and those scatte­red over the face of the earth, and dis­persed as far asunder as the Heaven is wide; nay which have undergone ten thousand several changes and transmu­tations, have fructified the earth, be­come the nourishment of other animals, and those the food again of other men, and so have been adopted into several other bodies? How is it possible that all those little particles which made up, suppose, the body of Abraham, should at the end of the world be again ranged and marshalled together, and unmixt from the dust of other bodies, be all di­sposed, into the same order, figure and posture they were before, so as to make the very self-same flesh and bloud which his soul at his dissolution forsook? This seems a Camel too big for any conside­ring person to swallow: he must be of a very easie faith who can digest such impossibilities. Ezekiel indeed, when the hand of the Lord was upon him, and he was carried out in the spirit of the Lord, thought he was set down in the midst of a valley full of dry bones; and [Page 368]that afterwards he heard a noise, and behold a shaking, and the bones came to­gether, bone to his bone, the sinews and the flesh came up upon them, and the skin covered them above; and the breath came into them, and they lived and stood upon their feet. This may pass well enough in a Prophetical Vision, and did hand­somely represent the wonderfull restau­ration of the Jewish People; But that all this and much more should in truth come to pass, that our bones after they are resolved into dust, should really be­come living men; that all the little atoms whereof our bodies consisted, howsoever scattered, or wheresoever lodged, should immediately at a gene­ral summons rally and meet again, and every one challenge and possess its own proper place, till at last the whole rui­ned fabrick be perfectly rebuilt, and that of the very self-same stuff and ma­terials whereof it consisted before its fall; that this, I say, should ever re­ally be effected, is such an incredible thing, that it seems to be above the power of reason so much as to frame a conception of it.’ And therefore we may observe that the Gentiles did most [Page 369]especially boggle at this Article of our Christian faith, as we reade in the 17th of the Acts: when St. Paul preached un­to the Athenians concerning the resurrec­tion of the dead, the Philosophers moc­ked at him, and entertained his doctrine with nothing but scoffs and flouts; and indeed it was one of the last things that the Heathens received into their belief; and it is to this day the chiefest objection against Christianity. How are the dead raised up? and with what body do they come? In my discourse of these words I shall doe these three things.

I. I shall shew that the resurrection of the dead, even in the strictest sense, as it is commonly understood and explained of the very self-same body that died and was buried, contains nothing in it impossible or incredible.

II. Since it is certain that the body which we shall rise with, though it may be as to substance the same with our ter­restrial body, yet will be so much altered and changed in its modes and qualities, that it will be quite another kind of body from what it was before; I shall give you [Page 370]a short account of the difference the Scripture makes between a glorified bo­dy and this mortal flesh. And

III. Lastly, I shall draw some practical inferences from the whole.

I. I shall shew that the resurrection of the dead, even in the strictest sense, as it is commonly understood and explained of the very self-same body that died and was buried, contains nothing in it impossible or incredible.

Whether this strict sense of the Article be the true or not, I think I need not deter­mine; it is sufficient for me to shew, that if this be the true sense of it, yet the A­theist or Sceptick hath nothing considera­ble to object against it, but what is ca­pable of a fair and easie answer. How­ever give me leave just to lay before you some of the principal reasons and Scrip­tures upon which it is built and establi­shed. And

1. I think it must be acknowledged that this hath been all along the most com­mon received opinion amongst Christians, [Page 371]that at the last day we shall rise again with the very same flesh with which we are clothed in this state, and which we put off at our death: and that our hea­venly bodies will not onely consist of the same substance and matter with our earthly, but will be of the same con­sistency and modification, perfect flesh and bloud, though in some properties al­tered and changed. Most of the ancient Fathers of the Church (excepting some few that were of a more inquisitive tem­per and philosophical genius than the rest, as Origen and some others) did believe and teach, that at the general resurrec­tion men should he restored to the very same bodies which they dwelt in here, and which at last were laid in the grave: that their bodies should be then as truly the same with those they died in, as the bodies of those whom our Saviour raised when he was upon earth were the same with those they had before; that no o­ther body should be raised but that which slept, and that as our Saviour Christ arose with his former flesh and bones and mem­bers, so we also after the resurrection should have the same members we now use, the same flesh and bloud and bones.

And that this was the common belief and expectation of all Christians in the pri­mitive times, that they should appear again at the general resurrection with the very same bodies they lived in here on earth, will appear from that spite and malice which the Heathens sometimes shewed to the dead bodies of Christians, reducing them to ashes, and then scattering them into the air, or throwing them into ri­vers, that thereby they might defeat and deprive them of all hopes of a resurrec­tion: of this Eusebius gives us an eminent instance out of the Epistle of the Chur­ches of Vienna, and Lyons in France, to those in Asia and Phrygia, under the Per­secution of Antoninus Verus; which gives an account, how that the Heathens, af­ter many vain and fruitless attempts to suppress the Christian Religion, by inflic­ting the cruelest torments on the Profes­sours of it, which they bravely endured, looking for a joyfull resurrection; at last thought of a way to deprive them, as they fondly imagined, of that great hope which ministred so much joy and courage to them under the severest trials; which was by reducing the wrackt and man­gled [Page 373]bodies of the several Martyrs into the minutest Atoms, and then scattering them in the great River Rhodanus. Let us now, say they, see whether they can rise again, and whether their God can help them, and deliver them out of our hands. Now this is a sufficient intimation to us, that it was then the known common opi­nion of Christians, that the very same bo­dy and flesh which suffered and was mar­tyred here on earth, should be raised a­gain at the last day. And indeed those amongst the Ancient Christians who have undertaken to defend or explain this Ar­ticle of the resurrection of the dead, do it mostly by such principles, arguments and illustrations, as do suppose the very same body and flesh and members to be raised again, which the soul animated here in this life.

2. This hath not onely been the com­mon received opinion of Christians, but also the most plain and easie notion of a resurrection seems to require it; namely, that the very same body which died should be raised again. Nothing dies but the body, nothing is corrupted but the body; the soul goeth upward, and re­turns [Page 374]to God, and therefore nothing else can be properly said to be raised again, but onely that very body which died and was corrupted. If God give to our souls at the last day a new body, this cannot literally be called the resurrection of our bodies, because here is no reproduc­tion of the same thing that was before, which seems to be plainly implied in the word resurrection. Indeed the word is sometimes used otherwise, as when a House or Temple that hath been con­sumed by fire, is rebuilt on the same ground where it formerly stood, this is often, though improperly and figura­tively called the resurrection of it, and after the same manner do the Latines use the word resurgere; but yet the most proper and literal signification of the word resurrection, is, that the same flesh which was separated from the soul at the day of death should be again vitally uni­ted to it.

3. There are many places of Scripture which in their strict and literal meaning do seem plainly to favour this sense of the Article, that the very same flesh shall be raised again; what more plain and [Page 375]express, saith St. Hierome, than that of Job? Job 19.26, 27. Though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God, whom I shall see for my self, and my eyes shall behold, and not ano­ther. But however plain these words may seem to be, yet I cannot think that the primary and original meaning of them doth at all relate to the resurrec­tion, nor were they ever so understood and interpreted by the Jews, as Grotius tells us; not but that they might be pro­phetical of it, and so by way of accom­modation may be fitly applied to it; but the first and most easie sense of the words seems to be this: ‘After my skin is con­sumed, let that which remains of me likewise by piecemeals be destroyed, yet I am confident that, before I die, with these very eyes I shall see my Re­deemer, and be restored by him to my former happy state.’ So that the words are a plain prophecy of his own delive­rance, and an high expression of his con­fident hope in God, that in time he would vindicate his innocence, and bring him out of all his troubles. But if this place will not hold, there are others in the New Testament of the same importance.

St. Paul in the 53d verse of this Chap­ter, speaking of our body, and the glo­rious change it shall undergo at the resur­rection, tells us, that this corruptible shall put on incorruption, and this mortal shall put on immortality; now by this corrup­tible and this mortal can onely be meant that body which we now carry about with us, and shall one day lay down in the dust. Thus also the same Apostle tells us, Rom. 8.11. He that raised up Christ from the dead, shall also quicken our mortal bodies. Now that which shall be quick­ned and raised to life again, can be nothing else but that very body of flesh which is mortal, and died: though there is some question to be made, whether the quick­ning our mortal bodies by the spirit of Christ dwelling in us, should not rather be understood in a metaphorical or moral sense, of the first resurrection from the death of sin to the life of righteousness, than of the general resurrection at the consummation of all things.

But farther, the mention and description the Scripture makes of the places from whence the dead shall rise, doth seem plain­ly [Page 377]to intimate, that the same bodies which were dead, shall revive again. Thus we reade in Daniel, Ch. 12. v. 2. That those that sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting death. Where we may yet farther observe, that the Metaphor of sleeping and awaking, by which our death and resurrection is here expressed, doth seem to imply, that when we rise again, our bodies will be as much the same with those we lived in, as they are when we awake, the same with those we had before we laid our selves down to sleep. Thus again it is said in St. John's Gospel, Chap. 5. verses 28, and 29. The hour is coming, in the which all that are in the graves shall hear his voice, and shall come forth; they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life; and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damna­tion. And in the Revelations, Chap. 20. verse 13. And the sea gave up the dead which were in it, and death and hell, that is, the grave, delivered up the dead that were in them, and they were judged every man according to their works. Now if the same flesh shall not be raised again, what need is there of ransacking the graves at [Page 378]the end of the word? the Sea can give up no other bodies but the same which it received in; nor can the Grave deliver up any, but onely those that were laid therein: if it were not necessary that we should rise with the very same bodies, the graves need not be opened, but our flesh might be permitted to rest there for ever. To this may be added, that St. Paul tells us in the 3d Chapter of the Epistle to the Philippians, verse 21. that our Saviour shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like unto his glorious body. Now this vile body can be no other than this flesh and bloud which we are now cloa­thed with, restored to life again.

4. If we consider the several instances and examples either of those who did im­mediately ascend up into Heaven, or of those who after death were restored to life again, they all seem plainly to con­firm this opinion, that at the last day we shall rise again with the very same flesh and bloud which we had here. Enoch and Elias of old were translated into Heaven in their terrestrial bodies; and therefore may be supposed now to live there with the same flesh and parts they [Page 379]had when they were here upon earth. And those three that were raised from the dead in the Old Testament, and those that were recalled to life by our Saviour, or accompanied him at his resurrection, all appeared again in the very same bodies they had before their dissolution: and these were examples and types of the ge­neral resurrection, and therefore our re­surrection must resemble theirs, and we also must appear at the last day with the same bodies we lived in here. Even our blessed Saviour himself, who was the first fruits of them that slept, did raise his own body, according to that prediction of his. Destroy this Temple, and in three days I will build it up again. Nay he appeared to his Disciples with the very prints of the nails in his hands and feet, and with all the other marks of his crucifixion; Be­hold my hands and my feet, says he, that it is I my self; Handle me, and see, for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me have: from whence it seems to fol­low, that we in our resurrection shall be conformable to our Saviour, and resume the very same bodies that were laid in the Sepulchre.

5. And Lastly, It is farther urged by some of the Ancients for a proof of the resurrection of the same body, that the exact justice and righteousness of God doth require it; that God's justice, I mean that which consists in the equal dispensation of rewards and punishments, will seem to be much obscured, at least will not be so illustriously manifested and displayed to the world, unless the same body of flesh be raised again; that so that which was here the constant partner with the soul in all her actions, whether good or evil, may also hereafter share with her in her rewards or punishments. It seems but equal that we should be punished in the same body in which we sinned; and that that very flesh in which we pleased God should be exalted and glorified at the last day, and receive a just recompence of re­ward for all the trouble and hardship it underwent in this life.

Thus I have given you a brief account of this strictest sense of the Article of the Resurrection, namely, that the very self­same lesh and bloud which make up our bodies here on earth, shall be raised again at [Page 381]the last day; and after it hath been chan­ged and glorified by the power and spirit of Christ (I speak onely of the bodies of good men) shall ascend up into Heaven, and there live and dwell for ever in the presence of God. I come now to shew that there is nothing in all this impossible or incredible: which I shall do by pro­ving these three things.

1. That it is possible for God to ob­serve and distinguish and preserve unmixt from all other bodies the particular dust and atoms into which the several bodies of men are dissolved, and to recollect and unite them together how far soever dis­persed asunder.

2. That God can form that dust so re­collected together, of which the body did formerly consist, into the same body it was before. And

3. That when he hath made this bo­dy, he can enliven it, and make it the same living man, by uniting it to the same soul and spirit that used formerly to inhabit there. It cannot be denied, but that these three things do express the [Page 382]whole of the resurrection of our flesh in the strictest sense, and none of these are impossible.

1. God can observe and distinguish and preserve unmixt from all other bodies the particular dust and atoms into which the several bodies of men are dissolved, and recollect and unite them together, how far soever dispersed asunder. God is infi­nite in wisedom, power and knowledge, he knoweth the number of the stars, and calleth them all by their names; he mea­sures the waters in the hollow of his hand, and metes out the heavens with a span, and comprehends the dust of the earth in a mea­sure; he numbers the hairs of our head, and not so much as a sparrow falls to the ground without his knowledge: he can tell the number of the sands of the Seashore, as the Heathens used to express the im­mensity of his knowledge; and is it at all incredible that such an infinite understan­ding should distinctly know the several particles of dust into which the bodies of men are mouldred, and plainly discern to whom they belong, and observe the va­rious changes they undergo in their pas­sage through several bodies? Why should [Page 383]it be thought strange, that he who at first formed us, whose eyes did see our sub­stance yet being imperfect, and in whose book all our members were written; from whom our substance was not hid, when we were made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth, should know every part of our bodies, and eve­ry atome whereof they are composed? The curious artist knows every pin and part of the Watch or Machine which he frames, and if the little Engine should fall in pieces, and all the parts of it lie in the greatest disorder and confusion, yet he can soon rally them together, and as ea­sily distinguish one from another, as if every one had its particular mark; he knows the use of every part, can rea­dily assign to each its proper place, and exactly dispose them into the same figure and order they were in before: and can we think that the Almighty Architect of the world, whose workmanship we are, doth not know whereof we are made, or is not acquainted with the several parts and ma­terials of which this earthly tabernacle of ours is framed and composed? The se­veral corporeal beings that now consti­tute this Universe, at the first creation of [Page 384]the world lay all confused in a vast heap of rude and indigested Chaos; till by the voice of the Omnipotent they were sepa­rated one from the other, and framed in­to those distinct bodies, whereof this beau­tifull and orderly world doth consist: and why may not the same power at the con­summation of all things, out of the ruines and rubbish of the world, collect the se­veral reliques of our corrupted bodies, re­duce them each to their proper places, and restore them to their primitive shapes and figures, and frame them into the same individual bodies they were parts of be­fore? All the atoms and particles into which mens bodies are at last dissolved, however they may seem to us to lie care­lesly scattered over the face of the earth, yet are safely lodged by God's wise dis­posal in several receptacles and reposito­ries till the day of restitution of all things; in aquis, in ignibus, in alitibus, in bestiis, saith Tertullian, they are preserved in the waters, in birds and beasts, till the sound of the last trumpet shall summon them, and recall them all to their former habi­tations.

But the chiefest and most usual objec­tion against what I am now pleading for is this, That it may sometimes happen that several mens bodies may consist of the very self-same matter: for the bodies of men are oftentimes devoured by beasts and fishes, and other animals, and the flesh of these is afterwards eaten by other men, and becomes part of their nourish­ment, till at last the same particles of matter come to belong to several bodies; and it is impossible that at the resurrec­tion they should be united to them all. Or to express it shorter, it is reported of some whole Nations, that they devour the bodies of other men, and feed upon humane flesh; so that these must necessa­rily borrow great part of their bodies of other men: and if that which was part of one man's body, comes afterwards to be part of another man's, how can both rise at the last day with the very self-same bodies they had here? But to this it may be easily replied, that but a very small and inconsiderable part of that which is eaten, and descends into the stomach, turns into nourishment; the far greater part goes away by excretions [Page 386]and perspirations. So that it is not at all impossible but that God Almighty, who watcheth over all things by his provi­dence, and governs them by his power, may so order the matter, that what is really part of one man's body, though eaten by another, yet shall never come to be part of his nourishment; or else, if it doth nourish him, and consequently becomes part of his body, that it shall wear off again, and sometime before his death be divided and separated from it, that so it may remain in a condition to be restored to him who first laid it down in the dust. And the like may be said of Men-eaters, if any such there be, that God by his wise providence may take care, either that they shall not be at all nourished by other mens flesh which they so inhumanely devour, or if they be nourished by it, and some particles of matter, which formerly belonged to o­ther men, be adopted into their bodies, yet that they shall yield them up again before they die, that they may be in a capacity of being restored at the last day to their right owners.

But perhaps it may seem to some un­worthy of God, and beneath his divine Majesty, to attend to such little things, and to concern himself about such mean and trivial matters; or inconsistent with his ease and happiness, to trouble him­self with such a perplext and intricate business, as curiously to mark and ob­serve all the particles of dust into which the several bodies of men are dissolved, and exactly to distinguish one from another, and to preserve them entire and unmixt, and at last to restore them all to their old bodies. But such persons should have a care, lest under pretence of pleading for God's honour and glory, they really les­sen him, and derogate from all his other perfections. It is the great excellency and perfection of the divine providence that it extends it self to all, even to the least things, and that nothing is exemp­ted from its care and influence. And to fansie that to govern the world is a bur­then to God, is surely to entertain mean and unworthy conceptions of him, and to judge of him by the same rules and measures we do of our selves. It is very unreasonable, because we are of such [Page 388]weak and frail natures, as that a little bu­siness and employment presently tires us, to think the same of God Almighty, as if it were any trouble to him, or at all interrupted his infinite pleasure and hap­piness to take care of the world, and or­der and manage the several affairs of it.

2. Of this dust, thus preserved and col­lected together, God can easily re-make and rebuild the very same bodies which were dissolved. And that this is possible must be acknowledged by all that believe the history of the creation of the world, that God formed the first man Adam of the dust of the ground: if the body of man be dust after death, it is no other than what it was originally; and the same power that at first made it of dust, may as easily re-make it when it is reduced into the same dust again.

Nay this is no more wonderfull than the formation of an humane body in the womb, which is a thing that we have daily experience of, which without doubt is as great a miracle, and as strange an in­stance of the divine power, as the resur­rection of it can possibly be: and were it [Page 389]not so common and usual a thing, we should as hardly be brought to believe it possible, that such a beautifull fabrick as the body of a man is, with nerves and bones and flesh and veins and bloud, and the several other parts whereof it consists, should be raised out of those principles of which we see it is made, as now we are, that hereafter it should be rebuilt, when it is crumbled into dust. Had we onely heard or read of the wonderfull forma­tion of the body of man, we should have been as ready to ask, how are men made? and with what bodies are they born? as now we are, when we hear of the resur­rection, How are the dead raised up? and with what bodies do they come?

3. When God hath raised again the same body out of the dust into which it was dissolved, he can enliven it, and make it the same living man, by uniting it to the same soul and spirit which used formerly to inhabit there. And this we cannot with the least shew of reason pre­tend impossible to be done, because we must grant that it hath been already often done. We have several undoubted exam­ples of it in those whom the Prophets of [Page 390]old, and our blessed Saviour and his Apo­stles raised from the dead. Nay our Sa­viour himself, after he was dead and bu­ried, rose again, and appeared alive unto his Disciples and others, and was suffici­ently known and owned by those who had accompanied him, and conversed with him for many years together, and that not presently, but after long doub­ting and hesitation, upon undeniable conviction and proof, that he was the very same person they had seen expiring upon the Cross.

Thus I have endeavoured to shew you that in the strictest notion of the resur­rection there is nothing that is absurd or impossible, or above the power of such an infinite being as God is. The onely thing I know of that can with any pre­tence of reason be objected against what I have discoursed upon this head, is this, that this way of arguing from God's om­nipotency is very fallacious, and hath been often much abused: for under this pretence that nothing is impossible to an infinits power, all the Rabbinical and Mahumetan Fables, or, which are as in­credible, all the Popish Legends may be [Page 391]obtruded on us for Anthentick Histories; since there is nothing contained in them that is absolutely above or beyond God's power to effect, if he pleases to exert it. Whence some of the Fathers have obser­ved, that the Omnipotency of God was the great sanctuary of Hereticks, to which they always betook themselves when they were baffled by reason. And indeed so much is certainly true, that God's Omnipotency alone is no good ar­gument to prove the truth of any thing; for without doubt there are an infinite number of things which are possible to be done or made, which yet God in his infinite wisedom never thought fit to ex­ercise his power about, nor perhaps ever will: and therefore we ought not to con­clude, because God can raise us again with the very same bodies we have here; that therefore he will doe so. But sup­posing that God hath expresly revealed and declared that he will doe it, from the consideration of his infinite power, we are bound (however impossible it may seem to us, so long as it doth not plainly imply a contradiction) not to doubt of the truth of it, but firmly to be­lieve, that he that hath promised, can [Page 392]also perform. We must first therefore be assured that it is the will of God to raise again the same flesh which was laid in the grave, and then we may safely have re­course to the Omnipotency of God to confirm and establish our faith of it.

I conclude this head therefore with that question of St. Paul's, Acts 26.8. Why should it be thought a thing incre­dible with you that God should raise the dead? The change from death to life is not so great as that from nothing into be­ing; and if we believe that God Almigh­ty by the word of his power at first made the heavens and the earth of no pre-ex­istent matter, what reason have we to doubt, but that the same God by that mighty power whereby he is able to subdue all things to himself, can also raise to life again those who were formerly alive, and have not yet wholly ceased to be. And though we cannot answer all the difficul­ties and objections which the wit of men (whose interest it is that their souls should die with their bodies, and both perish to­gether) hath found out to puzzle this doctrine with: though we cannot fully satisfy our minds and reasons about the [Page 393]manner how it shall be done, or the na­ture of those bodies we shall rise with, yet this ought not in the least to shake or weaken our belief of this most important Article of our Christian faith. Is it not sufficient that an Almighty Being, with whom nothing is impossible, hath so­lemnly promised and past his word, that he will re-animate and re-enliven our mortal bodies, and after death raise us to life again? Let those who presume to mock at this glorious hope and expecta­tion of all good men, and are continually exposing this doctrine, and raising ob­jections against it, first try their skill up­on the ordinary and daily appearances of nature, which they have every day be­fore their eyes; let them rationally solve and explain every thing that happens in this world, of which themselves are wit­nesses, before they think to move us from the belief of the resurrection by raising some dust and difficulties about it, when Omnipotency it self stands enga­ged for the performance of it. Can they tell me how their own bodies were framed and fashioned, and curiously wrought? Can they give me a plain and satisfactory account by what or­derly [Page 394]steps and degrets this glorious and stately structure, consisting of so many several parts and members, which disco­vers so much delicate workmanship and rare contrivance, was at first erected? How was the first drop of bloud made, and how came the heart and veins and ar­teries to receive and contain it? of what, and by what means were the nerves and fibres made; what fixt those little strings in their due places and situations, and fit­ted and adapted them for those several uses for which they serve? what distin­guisht and separated the brain from the other parts of the body, and placed it in the head, and filled it with animal spirits to move and animate the whole body? How came the body to be fenced with bones and sinews, to be cloathed with skin and flesh, distinguisht into various muscles? let them but answer me these and all the other questions I could put to them about the formation of their own body, and then I will willingly under­take to solve all the objections and diffi­culties that they can raise concerning the resurrection of it. But if they cannot give any account of the formation of that body they now live in, but are for­ced [Page 395]to have recourse to the infinite power and wisedom of the first cause, the great and sovereign orderer and disposer of all things; let them know that the same power is able also to quicken and enliven it again after it is rotted and returned unto dust: we must believe very few things, if this be a sufficient reason for our doubting of any thing, that there are some things belonging to it which we cannot perfectly comprehend, or give a rational account of. In this state our conceptions and reasonings about the things that belong to the future and in­visible world are very childish and vain; and we do but guess and talk at random, whenever we venture beyond what God hath revealed to us. Let us not therefore perplex and puzzle our selves with those difficulties which have been raised con­cerning this doctrine of the resurrection; for it is no absurdity to suppose that an in­finite power may effect such things as seem wholly impossible to such finite be­ings as we are; but rather let us hold fast to what is plainly revealed concerning it, namely, that all those who love and fear God shall be raised again after death the fame men they were before, and live for [Page 396]ever with God in unspeakable happiness both of body and soul.

Thus I have endeavoured to shew the possbility of a resurrection in the stric­test sense; I now proceed to the second thing I propounded, which was

II. (Since it is certain that the body we shall rise with, though it may be as to substance the same with our terrestrial body, yet will be so altered and changed in its modes and qualities, that it will be quite another kind of body from what it was before.) To give you a short ac­count of the difference the Scripture makes between a glorified body and this mortal flesh.

But before I doe this, I shall premise this one thing; that all our conceptions of the future state are yet very dark and imperfect. We are sufficiently assured that we shall all after death be alive a­gain, the very same men and persons we were here; and that those that have done good shall receive glory and honour and eternal life. But the nature of that joy and happiness which is provided for [Page 397]us in the other world is not so plainly re­vealed; this we know, that it vastly sur­passes all our imaginations, and that we are not able in this imperfect state to fan­sie or conceive the greatness of it; we have not words big enough fully to ex­press it; or if it were described to us, our understandings are too short and narrow to comprehend it. And therefore the Scriptures, from which alone we have all we know of a future state, describe it either first negatively, by propounding to us the several evils and inconveniences we shall then be totally freed from; or else se­condly by comparing the glory that shall then be revealed with those things which men do most value and admire here: whence it is called an inheritance, a king­dom, a throne, a crown, a sceptre, a rich treasure, a river of pleasures, a splendid robe, and an exceeding and eternal weight of glory. All which do not signify to us the strict nature of that happiness which is promised us in another world, which doth not consist in any outward sensible joys or pleasures: But these being the best and greatest things which this world can bless us with, which men do ordinarily most admire and value, and covet the posses­sion [Page 398]of, are made use of to set out to us the transcendent blessedness of another life, though indeed it is quite of another kind, and infinitely greater than the grea­test worldly happiness. These are onely little comparisons to help our weak ap­prehensions and childish fancies; but we shall never truly and fully know the glo­ries of the other world, till we come to enjoy them. It doth not yet appear what we shall be: from the description which the Scripture gives of the other world, as from a Map of an unknown Countrey; we may frame in our minds a rude confused idea and conception of it; and from thence, as Moses from the top of Mount Pisgah, may take some little imperfect prospect of the land of promise; but we shall ne­ver have a complete notion of it, till we our selves are entred into it. However, so much of our future happiness is re­vealed to us, as may be sufficient to raise our thoughts and affections above the empty shadows and fading beauties, and flattering glories of this lower world: to make us sensible how mean and trifling our present joys and fatisfactions are, and to excite and engage our best and most hearty endeavours towards the attain­ment [Page 399]of it, whatever difficulties and dis­couragements we may meet with in this life; though all that can be said, or we can possibly know of it, comes infinitely short of what one day we shall feel and perceive, and be really possessed of.

Having premised this, I come to con­sider what change shall be wrought in our bodies at the resurrection, which is no small part of our future happiness: now this change, according to the ac­count the Scriptures give of it, will consist chiefly in these four things. 1. That our bodies shall be raised im­mortal and incorruptible; 2. that they shall be raised in glory; 3. that they shall be raised in power; 4. that they shall be raised spiritual bodies. All which pro­perties of our glorified bodies are mentio­ned by St. Paul in this Chapter, verses 42, 43, 44. So also is the resurrection of the dead. It is sown in corruption, it is raised in incorruption; It is sown in dis­honour, it is raised in glory; It is sown in weakness, it is raised in power. It is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. And the explication of these words will give us the difference between the glori­fied [Page 400]body which we shall have in Heaven, and that mortal flesh and vile earth which we are now burthened with.

1. The bodies which we shall have at the resurrection will be immortal and in­corruptible; verse 53. For this corrupti­ble must put on incorruption, and this mor­tal must put on immortality. Now these words immortal and incorruptible do not onely signify that we shall die no more, for in that sense the bodies of the damned are also raised immortal and incorruptible, since they must live for ever, though it be in intolerable pain and misery: but they denote farther a perfect freedom from all those bodily evils which sin hath brought into the world, and from what­ever is penal, afflictive, or uneasie to us; that our bodies shall not be subject to pain or diseases, or those other inconve­niences to which they are now daily ob­noxious. This is called in Scripture the redemption of our bodies, the freeing them from all those evils and maladies which they are here subject unto. Were we at the general resurrection to receive the same bodies again, subject to those frailties and miseries which in this state [Page 401]we are forced to wrestle with, I much doubt whether a wise considering person, were it left to his choice, would willingly take it again; whether he would not chuse to let it lie still rotting in the grave, rather than consent to be again fettered down and bound fast to all eter­nity to such a cumbersome clod of earth: such a resurrection as this would indeed be what Plotinus calls it, [...], a resurrection to another sleep: it would look more like a condemnation to death again, than a resurrection to life.

The best thing that we can say of this earthly house and tabernacle of clay, the tomb and sepulchre of our souls, is, that it is a ruinous building, and it will not be long before it be dissolved and tumble into dust: that it is not our home, or resting place, but that we look for ano­ther house, not made with hands eternal in the heavens; that we shall not always be confined to this dolefull prison, but that in a little time we shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption, and be­ing disengaged and set free from this bur­then of flesh, shall be admitted into the glorious liberty of the children of God. [Page 402]Alas! what frail and brittle things are these bodies of ours? How soon are they disordered and discomposed? To what a troop of diseases, pains, and other infir­mities are they continually liable? And how doth the least distemper or weakness disturb and annoy our minds, interrupt our ease and rest, and make life it self a burthen to us? of how many several parts and members do our bodies consist? and if any one of these be disordered, the whole man suffers with it: If but one of those slender veins or tender membranes, or little nerves and fibres, whereof our flesh is made up, be either contracted or extended beyond its due proportion, or obstructed, or corroded by any sharp humour, or broken; what torment and anguish doth it create? How doth it pierce our souls with grief and pain? Nay when our bodies are at their best, what pains do we take, to what drudge­ries are we forced to submit, to serve their necessities, to provide for their su­stenance, and supply their wants; to re­pair their decays, to preserve them in health, and to keep them tenantable, in some tolerable plight and fitness for the soul's use? We pass away our days with [Page 403]labour and sorrow in mean and servile employments, and are continually busy­ing our selves about such trifling matters, as are beneath a rational and immortal spirit to stoop to, or be solicitous about; And all this onely to supply our selves with food and raiment, and other conve­niences for this mortal life, and to make provision for this vile contemptible flesh, that it may want nothing that it craves or desires. And what time we can spare from our labour, is taken up in resting and refreshing our tired and jaded bo­dies, and giving them such recruits as are necessary to fit them for work a­gain, and restore them to their former strength and vigour. How are we forced every night to enter into the confines of death, even to cease to be, at least to pass away so many hours without any usefull or rational thoughts, onely to keep these carkasses in repair, and make them fit to undergo the drudgeries of the enfuing day? In a word, so long as these frail, weak and dying bodies, sub­ject to so many evils and inconvemences both from within and without, are so closely linkt and united to our souls, that not so much as any one part of them can [Page 404]suffer, but our souls must be affected with it; it is impossible that we should enjoy much ease or rest, or happiness in this life, when it is in the power of so many thousand contingencies to rob us of it. But our hope and comfort is, that the time will shortly come, when we shall be delivered from this burthen of flesh: When God shall wipe away all tears from our eyes, and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying; neither shall there be any more pain, for the for­mer things are passed away: When we shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on us, nor any heat; for the lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed us, and shall lead us into living fountains of waters. Oh when shall we arrive to those happy regions, where no complaints were ever heard, where we shall all enjoy a constant and un­interrupted health and vigour both of bo­dy and mind, and never more be exposed to pinching frosts or scorching heats, or any of those inconveniences which in­commode this present pilgrimage? When we have once passed from death to life, we shall be perfectly eased of all that troublesome care of our bodies, which [Page 405]now takes up so much of our time and thoughts: we shall be set free from all those tiresome labours and servile drudge­ries which here we are forced to undergo for the maintenance and support of our lives; and shall enjoy a perfect health, without being vexed with any nauseous medicines, or tedious courses of physick for the preservation of it. Those robes of light and glory which we shall be cloathed with at the resurrection of the just, will not stand in need of those care­full provisions, or crave those satisfac­tions which it is so grievous to us here either to procure or be without. But they, as our Saviour tells us, St. Luke 20. verse 35, 36. which shall be accounted wor­thy to obtain that world, and the resur­rection from the dead, neither marry, nor are given in marriage, neither can they die any more; for they are [...], equal to Angels: they shall live such a life as the holy Angels do. Whence Tertullian calls the body we shall have at the resurrection carnem Angelificatam, Angelified flesh, which shall neither be subject to those weaknesses and decays, nor want that daily sustenance and continual recruit which these mortal bodies cannot subsist [Page 406]without. Meats for the belly, and the belly for meats, but God shall destroy both it and them. This is that perfect and complete happiness which all good men shall enjoy in the other world; which, according to an Heathen Poet, may be thus briefly summed up. Mens sana in corpore sano, a mind free from all trouble and guilt in a body free from all pains and diseases. Thus our mortal bodies shall be raised immortal; they shall not onely by the power of God be always preserved from death, for so the bodies we have now, if God pleases, may become im­mortal; but the nature of them shall be so wholly changed and altered, that they shall not retain the same seeds or princi­ples of mortality and corruption; so that they who are once cloathed with them, as our Saviour tells us, cannot die any more.

2. Our bodies shall be raised in glory. Then shall the righteous shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father, Matt. 13.43. Our heavenly bodies in brightness and glory shall contend with the splen­dour of the Sun it self: A resemblance of this we have in the lustre of Moses's [Page 407]face, which, after he had conversed with God in the Mount, did shine so gloriously, that the children of Israel were afraid to come near him, and therefore when he spake to them, he was forced to cast a veil over his face to cloud and eclipse the glory of it: And that extraordinary and miraculous majesty of St. Stephen's coun­tenance seems to be a presage of that fu­ture glory which our heavenly bodies shall be cloathed with: Acts 6.15. And all that sate in the Council looking sted­fastly on him, saw his face as it had been the face of an Angel. That is, they saw a great light and splendour about him; and if the bodies of Saints do sometimes appear so glorious here on earth, how will they shine and glitter in the other world, when they shall be made like un­to Christ's own glorious body? for so St. Paul tells us, that Christ will fashion our vile bodies like unto his glorious body. Now how glorious and splendid the body of Christ is, we may ghess by the visions of the two great Apostles, St. Peter and St. Paul.

The former of them, when he saw the transfiguration of our Saviour, when his [Page 408]face did shine as the sun, and his raiment became shining, and white as snow, was at the sight of it so transported and over­charged with joy and admiration, that he was in a manner besides himself, for he knew not what he said. When our Sa­viour discovered but a little of that glory which he now possesses, and will in due time communicate to his followers, yet that little of it made the place seem a pa­radise: and the Disciples were so taken with the sight of it, that they thought they could wish for nothing better than always to live in such pure light, and en­joy so beautifull a sight. It is good for us to be here; let us make three tabernacles: here let us fix and abide for ever. And if they thought this so great a happiness, onely to be where such heavenly bodies were present, and to behold them with their eyes, how much greater happiness must they enjoy, who are admitted to dwell in such glorious mansions, and are themselves cloathed with so much bright­ness and splendour?

The other appearance of our blessed Saviour after his ascension into Heaven to St. Paul as he was travelling to Damascus, [Page 409]was so glorious, that it put out his eyes; his senses were not able to bear a light so refulgent: such glorious creatures will our Lord make us all, if we continue his faithfull servants and followers; and we shall be so wonderfully changed, by the word of his power, from what we are in this vile state, that the bodies we now have will not be able so much as to bear the sight and presence of those bodies which shall be given us at the resur­rection.

Now this excellency of our heavenly bodies the Schoolmen fansie will arise in a great measure from the happiness of our souls. The unspeakable joy and happi­ness which our souls shall then enjoy, will break through our bodies, and be conspicuous, and shine forth in the brightness of our countenances, and illu­strate them with beauty and splendour; as the joy of the soul, even in this life, hath some influence upon the body, and makes an imperfect impression upon the countenance, by rendring it more serene and chearfull than otherwise it would be: as Solomon tells us, Eccles. 8.1. That a man's wisedom maketh his face to shine. [Page 410]Vertue and goodness purifies and exalts a man's natural temper, and makes his very looks more clear and brisk.

3. Our bodies shall be raised in power. This is that which the Schools call the agi­lity of our heavenly bodies, the nimble­ness of their motion, by which they shall be rendred most obedient and able instru­ments of the soul. In this state our bo­dies are no better than clogs and fetters which confine and restrain the freedom of the soul, and hinder it is all her opera­tions; The corruptible body, as it is in the wisedom of Solomon, presseth down the soul, and the earthly tabernacle weigheth down the mind that museth upon many things. Our dull, sluggish and unactive bodies are often unable, oftner unready and backward to execute the orders, and obey the commands of our souls; so that they are rather hindrances to the soul, than any-ways usefull or serviceable to her. But in the other life, as the Pro­phet Isaiah tells us, Isaiah 40.31. They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings as Eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint: or as [Page 411]another expresses it; They shall shine, and run too and fro like sparks amongst the stub­ble; the speed of their motion shall be like that of devouring fire in an heap of dry stubble, and the height of it shall sur­pass the towring flight of the Eagle: for they shall meet the Lord in the air, when he comes to judgment, and afterwards mount up with him into the third and highest Heavens. This earthly body is continually groveling on the ground, slow and heavy in all its motions, listless, and soon tired with action; and the soul that dwells in it is forced, as it were, to drag and hale it along; but our heavenly bodies shall be as free, as active and nim­ble as our very thoughts are.

4. And Lastly, Our bodies shall be raised spiritual bodies; not of a spiritual substance, for then the words would im­ply a contradiction; it being impossible that the same thing should be both a spi­ritual and a bodily substance. But spiri­tual is here opposed, not to corporeal, but to natural or animal; and by it is ex­prest, (as it is ordinarily interpreted) the subtilty and tenuity and purity of our heavenly bodies. But I would rather ex­plain [Page 412]it thus. In this state our spirits are forced to serve our bodies, and to attend their leisure, and do mightily depend up­on them in most of their operations; but on the contrary, in the other world our bodies shall wholly serve our spirits, and minister unto them, and depend upon them. So that by a natural body, I un­derstand a body fitted for this lower and sensible world, for this earthly state; by a spiritual body, such an one as is suited and accommodated to a spiritual state, to an invisible world, to such a life as the Saints and Angels lead in Heaven. And indeed this is the principal difference between this mortal body, and our glo­rified body. This flesh, which now we are so apt to dote upon, is one of the greatest and most dangerous enemies we have, and therefore is defied and renounced by all Christians in their baptism, as well as the world and the Devil. It continually tempts and solicits us to evil; every sense is a snare to us, and all its lusts and appetites are inordinate and insatiable; it is impatient of Christ's yoke, and refuseth discipline; it is ungovernable, and often rebelleth against reason; and the law in our members warreth against the law of our [Page 413]minds, and brings us into captivity to the law of sin which is in our members, and when the spirit is willing, the flesh is weak; so that the best men are forced to keep it under, and use it hardly, lest it should be­tray them into folly and misery. We are now in a state of warfare, and must al­ways be upon our guard and watch, con­tinually arming and defending our selves against the assaults of the flesh, and all its violent and impetuous motions. How doth it hinder us in all our religious devo­tions? How soon doth it jade our minds when employed in any divine or spiritual meditations; or how easily by its be­witching and enchanting pleasure doth it divert them from such noble exercises? So that St. Paul breaks forth into this sad and mournfull complaint; Rom. 7.24. O wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death? Who shall? Death shall. That shall give us a full and final deliverance. When once we have obtained the resurrection unto life, we shall not any more feel those lustings of the flesh against the spirit, which are here so troublesome and uneasie to us; our flesh shall then cease to vex our souls with its evil inclinations, immoderate de­sires, [Page 414]and unreasonable passions; But be­ing its self spiritualized, purified, exalted and freed from this earthly grosness, and all manner of pollution, shall become a most fit and proper instrument of the soul in all her divine and heavenly employ­ments. It shall not be weary of singing praises unto God Almighty through infi­nite Ages. It shall want no respite or refreshment, but its meat and drink shall be to doe the will of God.

In these things chiefly consists the dif­ference between those bodies which we shall have at the resurrection, and this mortal flesh; which we can but very im­perfectly either conceive or express: but yet from what hath been discoursed on this subject, it doth sufficiently appear that a glorified body is infinitely more excel­lent and desireable than that vile and con­temptible flesh which we now carry about with us. The onely thing remaining is,

III. And Lastly, to draw some practi­cal inferences from all I have said on this subject. I shall but just mention these five, and leave the improvement of them to your own private meditations.

1. From what I have said, we may learn the best way of fitting and preparing our selves to live in those heavenly and spi­ritual bodies which shall be bestowed upon us at the resurrection; which is by clean­sing and purifying our souls still more and more from all fleshly filthiness, and weaning our selves by degrees from this earthly body, and all sensual pleasures and delights. We should begin in this life to loosen and untie the knot between our souls and this mortal flesh, to refine our affections, and raise them from things below, to things above; to take off our hearts, and leisurely to disengage them from things present and sensible, and to use and accustome our selves to think of, and converse with things spiritual and invisi­ble: that so our souls, when they are se­parated from this earthly body, may be prepared and disposed to actuate and in­form a pure and spiritual one, as having before hand tasted and relished spiritual delights and pleasures, and been in some degree acquainted with those objects which shall then be presented to us. A soul wholly immersed and buried in this earthly body is not at all fit and qualified [Page 416]for those celestial and glorious mansions which God hath provided for us: an earthly sensual mind is so much wedded to bodily pleasures, as that it cannot en­joy its self without them, and is inca­pable of tasting or relishing any other, though really greater, and infinitely to be preferred before them. Nay such per­sons as mind onely the concerns of the body, and are wholly led by its motions and inclinations; as do, [...], as it were embody their souls, would esteem it a great unhappiness to be cloa­thed with a spiritual and heavenly body: it would be like cloathing a beggar in princely apparel. Such glorious bodies would be uneasie to them; they would not know how to behave themselves in them; they would e'en be glad to retire, and put on their rags again. But now by denying the solicitations of our flesh, and contradicting its lusts and appetites, and weaning our selves from bodily pleasures, and subduing and mortifying our carnal lusts, we fit and dispose our selves for another state: and when our souls are thus spiritualized, they will soon grow weary of this flesh, and long for their departure; they will [Page 417]be always ready to take wing, and fly away into the other world, where at last they will meet with a body suited to their rational and spiritual appetites.

2. From hence we may give some ac­count of the different degrees of glory in the other state. For though all good men shall have glorious bodies, yet the glory of them all shall not be equal; they shall all shine as stars, and yet one star differeth from another star in glory; there is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars; so also is the resurrection of the dead. Some will have bodies more bright and resplen­dent than others: Those who have done some extraordinary service to their Lord, who have suffered bravely and courage­ously for his name; or those who by the constant exercise of severity and mortifi­cation have arrived to an higher pitch, and attained to a greater measure of pu­rity and holiness than others, shall shine as stars of the first magnitude: Dan. 12.3. And they that be wise, shall shine as the brightness of the firmament; and they that turn many to righteousness, as the stars for ever and ever. It is certain that the pu­rest [Page 418]and most spiritual bodies shall be gi­ven to those who are most fitted for them, to the most heavenly and spiritual souls: so that this is no little encourage­ment to us to make the greatest profici­ency we can possibly in the ways of ver­tue and piety, since the more we wean our selves from these present things and sensible objects, the more glorious and heavenly will our bodies be at the resur­rection.

3. Let this consideration engage us pa­tiently to bear those afflictions, sicknesses and bodily pains which we are exercised with in this life. The time of our redemp­tion draweth nigh; let us but hold out a­while longer, and all tears shall be wiped from our eyes, and we shall never sigh nor sorrow any more. And how soon shall we forget all the misery and uneasi­ness we endured in this earthly taberna­cle, when once we are cloathed with that house which is from above? we are now but in our journey towards the heavenly Canaan, are pilgrims and strangers here, and therefore must expect to struggle with many straits and difficulties, but it will not be long before we shall come to [Page 419]our journeys end, and that will make a­mends for all: we shall then be in a quiet and safe harbour out of the reach of those storms and dangers wherewith we are here encompassed: we shall then be at home, at our Father's house, no more exposed to those inconveniences which, so long as we abide in this tabernacle of clay, we are subject unto. And let us not forfeit all this happiness onely for want of a little more patience and con­stancy; but let us hold out to the end, and we shall at last receive abundant re­compence for all the trouble and uneasi­ness of our passage, and be enstated in perfect endless rest and peace.

4. Let this especially arm and fortify us against the fear of death; for death is now conquered and disarmed, and can doe us no hurt. It separates us indeed from this body for a while, but it is onely that we may receive it again far more pure and glorious. It takes away our old rags, and bestows upon us royal robes: either therefore let us lay aside the pro­fession of this hope of the resurrection unto life, or else let us with more cou­rage expect our own dissolution, and [Page 420]with greater patience bear that of our friends and relations. Wo is us who are forced still to sojourn in Mesech, and to dwell in the tents of Kedar: for how can it be well with us so long as we are chained to these earthly carcasses? As God therefore said once to Jacob, fear not to go down into Egypt, for I will go down with thee, and I will surely bring thee up again; so may I say to you, fear not to go down into the house of rotten­ness, fear not to lay down your heads in the dust, for God will certainly bring you out again, and that after a much more glorious manner. Let death pull down this house of clay, since God hath undertaken to rear it up again infinitely more splendid and usefull.

5. And Lastly, Let us all take care to live so here, that we may be accounted worthy to obtain the other world, and the resurrection from the dead. Let us rise, in a moral sense, from the death of sin to the life of righteousness, and then the se­cond death shall have no power over us. A renewed and purified mind and soul shall never fail of an heavenly and glori­ous body in the other world, but a sen­sual [Page 421]and worldly mind, as it hath no af­fection for, so can it find no place in those pure regions of light and happiness. Since therefore we have this comfortable hope of a glorious resurrection unto life eternal, let us purify our selves from all filthiness of flesh and spirit; let us hold fast our profession, and stedfastly adhere to our duty, whatever we may lose or suffer by it here, as knowing we shall reap, if we faint not. And this is Saint Paul's exhortation with which he con­cludes his discourse of the resurrection, Therefore my beloved brethren, be ye sted­fast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord.

THESE words may be considered as the resolution of a truly honest man, whose vertue and goodness depends not upon any outward accidents or fortuitous circumstances; who in all [Page 424]things keeps an exact conscience, and in all times, places and conditions acts by the same unalterable rule of righteous­ness, and steadily pursues what is good and honest, whatever he may lose or suf­fer by it. Would you know, saith Se­neca, whom I call a good and perfect man, I mean such an one, quem malum facere nulla vis nulla necessitas potest. Whom no outward force, no exigence or turn of affairs, neither prospect of advan­tage, nor fear of inconvenience can ever prevail with to doe an evil or base action; who can never be swayed by any parti­cular sinister interest to doe that which his own mind inwardly disapproves and condemns.

A truly honest man considers not what will take best, or please most, whether it will prove for his credit or profit, whe­ther he shall gain or lose friends by it, whether it will hinder or further his ad­vancement in the world; but in all cases inviolably keeps to what is fit, just and rea­sonable, and behaves himself as becomes a good honest man, being wholly uncon­cerned for the success and event of what his conscience tells him he ought to doe: [Page 425]he is resolved to please God, and to doe his duty, and to maintain the peace of his own mind, let the world go as it will.

But on the other side, the crafty wise politicians of this world live by no cer­tain law; profess, believe, practise this Religion, or that, or none at all, as may best suit with the present state of things and juncture of affairs, or with those par­ticular private designs which they carry on in the world, and in all their actions are governed by the giddy and uncertain measures of interest and worldly policy; and though sometimes, if it happens to be for their interest so to doe, they may seem to speak and act as fairly as any men whatever; yet to serve a turn, to pro­mote their temporal safety and advan­tage, or some other bye and selfish de­sign, they shall not refuse to commit the basest and foulest crimes.

Now that which I would persuade you to from these words is this, that in all your actions you would govern your selves by the fixt and immutable princi­ples of conscience and honesty, and al­ways stedfastly adhere to your plain du­ty, [Page 426]though never so highly tempted to swerve from it. —Till I die I will not remove my integrity from me. My righte­ousness I hold fast and will not let it go, my heart shall not reproach me so long as I live. I shall handle these words,

I. More particularly as they relate to Job, by whom they were spoken.

II. More generally, as they may be applied to men in all states and condi­tions.

I. As to the particular instance of Job, we all know he is propounded to us in holy Scripture as the most eminent ex­ample of an invincible resolution and un­shaken constancy in maintaining his in­nocence and integrity in two very diffe­rent fortunes, the one highly prosperous and flourishing, the other no less strange­ly adverse and calamitous; both which one after another by God's wise provi­dence did befall him, for the more illu­strious trial and manifestation of his sin­cere and disinterested loyalty to God and Religion; and it is no easie matter to de­termine in which of these two states he [Page 427]met with the greater temptations, whe­ther he found it the more difficult task to keep a good conscience in that splendid and plentifull condition he was once in, or to hold fast his righteousness in that deplorable poverty and want of all things, which he was at last reduced unto. For without doubt riches and ho­nours and high places, and an uninterrup­ted prosperity are as great snares, and as dangerous temptations, and often prove as fatal, nay, I may say, are generally more apt to draw men aside from the love of goodness and the care of their souls, than the severest afflictions, or the most surprizing calamities and outward crosses. So that Job perhaps was as much to be admired, and as hard to be imitated in his vertue and piety, when he was the greatest man in the East, as in his sub­mission, meekness and patience, when he became the miserablest spectacle that eyes ever beheld.

1. Job in his most prosperous state held fast his righteousness, and would not let it go. Though he enjoyed all the pleasures, riches and worldly satisfactions that the most ambitious or covetous mind could [Page 428]crave, yet he was so strictly religious and temperate, that when he was deprived and stripp'd of all, and left as bare and as naked as he was when he first came in­to the world, his mind could not re­proach nor condemn him for any unwor­thy or unhandsome carriage, for any one notorious failure in his duty that should provoke God to deal so harshly with him. His three Friends indeed unadvi­sedly fell into that fault which is so com­mon amongst us even to this day, of judging and censuring men by their out­ward conditions, and by what befalls them in this life; they could not ima­gine that such unheard-of calamities could betide an innocent person; when therefore they saw so great a Lord and Prince in so forlorn a plight, him whom but a little before all men called blessed, and accounted the darling and favourite of Heaven, sitting among the ashes, and scraping his painfull boils with a piece of a broken pot, they presently began to suspect his piety and integrity, and to call upon him to confess those grievous sins which had plucked down such terri­ble vengeance upon his head, fondly presu­ming that he must needs be a greater sinner [Page 429]than others, because he was more mise­rable and unfortunate. Which unchari­table censure forced from this excellent person those rhetorical and pathetical vindications of himself and all his actions in the days of his prosperity, which you may find scattered up and down in this Book, especially in the 31st Chapter.

Though his Friends were so unkind as to reproach and condemn him as guilty of some notorious crimes, whereby he had justly deserved all those evils which God had been pleased to lay upon him; yet his own conscience, a more impartial judge, acquitted him, and spoke peace to him. He was not afraid or ashamed to have all his life past impartially and thoroughly examined, and whatever he had done exposed to publick view, and to the knowledge of all the world. Nay he durst appeal to God himself, the sear­cher of hearts, and call the righteous and impartial judge of the earth to bear witness to his uprightness and sincerity. He challenged even his very enemies, those who had the least kindness for him, to draw up a bill against him, and to try if they could find any thing whereof to [Page 430]accuse him. He was so just, so humble, so moderate, so charitable, when he was in power and prosperity, that none ei­ther envied his greatness, or rejoyced at his fall. With such prudence and sobrie­ty, with such integrity and temper did he manage a great and magnificent for­tune, that in the lowest ebb of it, when he was reduced to the meanest condition a man can possibly sink into (and such a change is most apt to open the mouths, not onely of our own consciences, but of all that know us, against us;) I say, in this his worst estate, neither his own mind, nor his friends, nor his enemies (if so good a man had any) could find matter of complaint or reproach against him. And this was such a remarkable instance of pure and resolute vertue, that God Almighty seemed to rejoice and triumph that he had now found a man who could preserve himself innocent and upright even amidst all the flattering temptations that attend riches and power and worldly greatness. Hast thou consi­dered (said the Lord unto Satan, chap. 1. verse 8. as it were in a boasting manner) my servant Job, that there is none like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright [Page 431]man, one that feareth God, and escheweth evil? but

2. Behold the scene of a sudden quite changed, and extreme poverty, loss and pain dwelling there, where plenty and honour and riches formerly made their abode. The great enemy of mankind was at length satisfied that this renown­ed servant of God was not to be enticed by any of his baits; that he had a soul too great to fall in love with the fading beauties and perishing glories of this world; and therefore when he saw he would not be moved from his duty by fair means, he uses force and violence, and sets himself openly to assault that vertue, which would not be caught in any of his snares, nor yield to any of his gilded temptations. And to this end in one day he spirits away all his wealth and servants, slays all his children by the fall of an house, and exercises such cruel­ty upon his body, that there was no­thing about him whole and entire and free from sores, but onely the skin of his teeth; he arms his own wife and his best friends against him; his brethren went far from him; his acquaintance were [Page 432]estranged from him, his kinsmen failed him, and his familiars forgot him: the young children despised him, those that dwelt in his house counted him for a stran­ger, and those whom he loved most were turned against him. But when he was thus abandoned and forsaken of all, he yet held fast his righteousness, and would not remove his integrity from him; he still preserved a good conscience, which neither the Sabaeans, nor the Chaldaeans, nor the Devil himself could rob him of. Notwithstanding all these violent at­taques of Satan, he bravely stood his ground, and the greatness of his suffe­rings served onely to make his courage and constancy still more glorious and il­lustrious. Under all these afflictions he entertained not an unworthy thought, never uttered one hard word concerning God, but humbly kissed the hand that struck him, and received evil things from him with the same gratefull resent­ment he used to receive good things; and was as thankfull for these sad misfor­tunes and dire calamities, as other men are for the greatest favours and blessings. And whatever betided him in this world, yet he would never fall out with God, [Page 433]or doe any thing that might displease him, or wound his own mind and conscience. Thus this heavenly Champion came off with success and victory, and the trial of his faith and patience was found unto praise and honour and glory.

Now the words thus understood, re­lating in particular to Job, as exercised with these various conflicts and tempta­tions, afford us these two plain, but use­full, rules.

1. That we should so manage our selves in times of prosperity, and so use and improve our worldly advantages of health, riches, honour, authority, and the like, that whenever we come to be deprived of them, our hearts may have nothing to reproach us for.

2. That we should never, either to prevent, or to redeem our selves from any outward evil and calamity, doe any thing which our own minds and consci­ences do disapprove and condemn.

1. We should so manage our selves in times of prosperity, and so use and im­prove [Page 434]all worldly advantages of health, riches, honour, authority, and the like, that whenever we come to be deprived of them, our hearts may have nothing to reproach us for.

It is certain, that so long as the world goes on our side, and we live in ease and plenty, and enjoy whatever our hearts can wish for, we have not so quick and lively a sense of good and evil, nor do we ordinarily suffer our consciences to speak so freely and plainly to us, as when we are under some affliction or distress. Whilst we enjoy an uninterrupted pro­sperity, the noise and tumult of the world, the hurry and multiplicity of bu­siness and secular affairs, the variety of sensual pleasures and delights, the mirth and jollity of company, and the several temporal projects and designs we have in hand do generally so wholly engross and prepossess our thoughts, as that they drown the softer whispers of our minds and reasons, and allow no time or op­portunity to our consciences to doe their office. But when once we meet with a sudden check and stop, and are brought into straits and difficulties, when we are [Page 435]crossed and disappointed, and all our fine hopes and expectations are blasted and defeated, especially when death and judgment draws nigh, then doth con­science take the advantage against us, and fly in our faces, and set our sins in order before us, and fill our minds with galling regrets, and misgiving fears, and disquieting and uncomfortable reflexions upon our past follies, and we soon begin to have quite other notions and appre­hensions of things than we had formerly in the days of sunshine and security. Thus Joseph's brethren, after they had sold him into Egypt, and thereby had af­flicted their Father's soul even unto death, for a long time seemed pleased and satis­fied with themselves that they had done no worse to their innocent brother, that they had not slain him; but afterwards when they found themselves captives in a strange Land, they laid their hands upon their breasts and thought more impar­tially on what they had done, and said one to another, we are verily guilty concer­ning our brother, in that we saw the an­guish of his soul when he besought us, and we would not hear, therefore is this distress come upon us.

When we come to languish upon a bed of sickness, our minds will then take the liberty to reproach us for those many days of health and strength, which now without any sense or remorse we fondly trifle and squander away. Should our ri­ches take to themselves wings and flie a­way (and we all know how slippery and uncertain all these earthly enjoyments are) it would then wound us sore to think how much we stretched our consciences to get some part of them, and how prodi­gally we mis-spent other part of them, how much we loved them and trusted in them, and what an ill use we made of them. If ever we our selves should come to stand in need of the help, assistence and charity of others, how irksome and uneasie will it be to us, to remember how little our bowels were moved at the misfortunes of our poor neighbours, and what little compassion we shewed to the miserable and necessitous, and how loth we were in our flourishing condition to doe any one a good turn, if it put us but to the least expence or trouble?

However great and prosperous your present condition may be, yet often con­sider it may shortly be otherwise with you, daily interpose the thoughts of a change: should I lose this honour, esteem, authority and dignity I am now possessed of, how many untoward scars and blemi­shes will stick upon me? should I be re­duced to a mean, low estate, shall I not then blush to be put in mind of that pride, vain-glory, haughtiness, oppression and domineering I was guilty of, when I was in place and power? and will not the forced remembrance of such our base and unworthy behaviour be more grievous and afflictive to us, than any outward loss or pain? our consciences which now we stifle and smother, will at such a time be even with us, and our own wickedness shall reprove us, and our iniquity shall cor­rect us, as the Prophet expresseth it.

Learn therefore so to demean your selves in prosperity, as that your hearts may acquit you, and have nothing to chide and rebuke you for, when you come into adversity; and so to husband and improve those present advantages and [Page 438]opportunities you have in your hands, that when they are withdrawn from you you may be able with great comfort and satisfaction to reflect upon the good you have done with them, the sense of which will mightily blunt the edge, and miti­gate the sharpness of those evils that do at any time befall you; this was Job's great comfort and support under all his dismal sufferings, when he was fallen from the highest pinacle of wealth and honour almost as low as hell, that he had held fast his integrity, and that his mind could not reproach him.

2. We should never, either to prevent or to redeem our selves from any out­ward evil or calamity, doe any thing which our own minds and consciences do disapprove and condemn. Though Job had lost all other things that men u­sually call good, yet his righteousness he held fast, and would not let it go: and in­deed the peace of our own minds is more to be valued than any temporal blessing whatever, and there is no pain or loss so intolerable as that inward fear, regret and shame which sin and guilt create: so that whatever external advantage we acquire [Page 439]in the world by wounding our conscien­ces, we are certainly great losers by it; no real good can ever be obtained by doing ill, a guilty conscience being the sorest evil that a man can possibly be afflicted with.

Herein especially do inward troubles ex­ceed all outward afflictions whatever that can happen to our bodies or estates; name­ly, that under all temporal calamities, how desperate and remediless soever they be, yet we have something to buoy up and support our spirits, to keep us in heart, and ennable us to bear them, the joys of a good conscience, the sense or hopes of God's love and favour, the inward satis­faction of our own minds and thoughts, these things will wonderfully carry us through all those difficulties and adversi­ties which we shall meet with in the world, and are able to uphold and chear our hearts under the greatest pressures and hardships; but when a man's mind it self is disturbed and disquieted, where shall he seek for, where can he find any ease or remedy?

This seems to be the meaning of the Wise-man, in the 18th of the Proverbs, [Page 440]the 14th Verse, the spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity, but a wounded spirit who can bear? It is a saying much like that of our Saviours, if the salt hath lost its favour wherewith shall it be salted? if that by which we season all other things it self want it, by what shall it be sea­soned? so here the spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity, i. e. a mind and spirit that is at peace within it self, that is conscious of its own innocence and in­tegrity will enable a man to bear with great patience and contentment those chastisements which God may see good to exercise him with in this life; but a wounded spirit who can bear? i. e. if that spirit or mind which should help us to bear all those evils that betide us, be it self wounded and disquieted, what is there then left in a man to sustain it? when our onely remedy is become our disease, when that which alone can support us in all our troubles and distresses is become it self our greatest torment, how shall we be able to bear it?

What dangers soever therefore we are exposed unto, let us be sure to preserve a good conscience, nay let us rather suf­fer [Page 441]the greatest evils, than doe the least. If we always continue faithfull and con­stant to the dictates of reason and religion, our minds will be in peace, and the consci­ence of our having pleased God and done our duty, and secured our greatest inte­rest will hugely ease and alleviate our af­flictions, and sustain us under the most pressing evils we can suffer in this life, whereas on the other side, the greatest confluence of the good things of this world will not be able to free us from the disturbance and anxiety of an evil con­science, or to quiet and settle our minds when harassed and tortured with the sense of guilt: And this shall lead me to the se­cond thing I propounded, which was,

II. To consider these words more ge­nerally, as they may be applied to men in all states and conditions, and then they propound to us this rule, which we should always live by; namely, that we should upon no consideration whatever doe any thing that our minds or consciences re­prove us for. And this is the just cha­racter of an honest man, and of one fit to be trusted, that he will never either out of fear or favour consent to doe any [Page 442]thing that his mind tells him is unfit, un­worthy, or unbecoming, or that he can­not answer or justify to himself; but in all cases will doe what is right and ho­nest, however it may be thought of and relished by other men; and resolutely adhere to his plain duty, though perhaps it may hinder his preferment and ad­vancement, his trade and gain, and ex­pose him to many inconveniences in this world. I wish you would all with Job in my Text take up this brave resolution, My righteousness I will hold fast, and will not let it go; my heart shall not reproach me so long as I live. For your encou­ragement I shall onely crave leave to re­present unto you these two things.

1. That this is the plainest, easiest, and most certain rule that we can pro­pound to our selves.

2. That it is the wisest and safest rule, the best policy, all things considered.

1. That this is the plainest, easiest, and most certain rule that we can pro­pound to our selves. Let times be never so difficult or dangerous, and affairs ne­ver [Page 443]so intricate and involved, yet an ho­nest man is hardly ever at a loss what to doe; The integrity of the upright shall guide him, and the righteousness of the perfect shall direct his way.

The path of justice and honesty is streight, right on, neither to the right hand, nor to the left; there are no laby­rinths or winding Meanders in it, so that there is no great wit or cunning required to find it out. To any one whose mind is free from prejudice and evil affections, who is not governed by blind passion or interest, or any bye corrupt designs, the way he should walk in is plain and ob­vious, like the high-way. So it is called by the Prophet Isaiah: An high-way shall be there, and it shall be called the way of holiness, and wayfaring men, though fools, shall not err therein.

As for those indeed that will not keep the direct road, but thinking to pass some nearer way, travel in untrodden paths, through desart woods or solitary fields, over hedge and ditch, as we say, it is no wonder if they are sometimes out of their way, and go backward and for­ward, [Page 444]and are often at a stand, not knowing how to guide their steps, and what path to chuse, till at last they are utterly lost and bewildred; and such are all the wise men of this world, who make haste to be rich, and are resolved by right or wrong to be great and power­full, and mind nothing but their own in­terest and worldly advantage; who for­sake the plain and beaten [...]enin of vertue and piety, and betake themselves to the crooked ways of unrighteousness; they are infinitely various and uncertain, sometimes they go streight forward, and then quite back again; sometimes they are of one party, sometimes of another; to day of this Religion, to morrow of that, reeling to and fro like a drunken man; so that whatever they profess themselves to be this week, yet neither themselves, nor any one else can guess what mind they will be of the next, see­ing their opinions and judgments and practices depend upon such causes as are as variable as the wind or weather: they are always ready to turn as the tide and stream does, and are resolved to please those that are uppermost, like the Roman that told Augustus Caesar, in his Civil-wars, [Page 445]when asked by him what side he would take, that he would be praeda vic­toris, of that party which prevailed.

But alas! what an absurd and unequal life do such men lead? How do their minds, their words, their actions clash and interfere one with the other? How often are they forced to contradict them­selves, and to call themselves fools or knaves for doing those things, which af­terwards, when another interest is to be served, they are fain to disown, nay to doe the quite contrary? Into what mazes and perplexities doth this wandring, fic­kle and desultory temper betray men? what pitifull shifts are they put to to patch up such disagreeing practices, and to reconcile such different designs? since they are forced servilely to comply with so many several humours, to act so many different parts, and so often to follow o­ther counsels, and take new measures; with what great artifice and subtilty must they continually manage them­selves, with what wariness must they di­rect their feet, lest by any misadventure they should expose their own mean and sordid designs?

Now such persons as are thus fickle and inconstant to themselves, and are guided by no fixt and steady principles, but onely by their own present interest, which depends upon the uncertain state of worldly affairs, and a thousand other little contingencies, must needs be often at a loss which way to steer themselves, and can never be certain they are in the right. They are always to seek, and are utterly unresolved what to say or doe, till they can smell out how matters are likely to go, and see the final event and issue of things: such men are like the Sa­maritanes, who, as Josephus tells us, when the Jews were in any affliction or danger, disclaimed all acquaintance with them, and relation to them, and knew them not; but at another time, when the Jews prospered, and were great and potent, then they boasted of their alli­ance, and would needs be near a-kin to them, of the race of Ephraim and Ma­nasses the Sons of Joseph.

But on the other side, he that aims at nothing more than to please God and his own conscience, and to doe the duty of [Page 447]the place he is in fairly and justly, in all times knows what to doe, and is still the same man, and meddles not with those that are given to change; his own honesty is his tutour and directour, his counsellour and guide. He knows that the nature of goodness and vertue is always the same, and cannot be altered by any change of the times or state of affairs, and there­fore under all external changes and oc­currences whatever, he keeps the same smooth and even course of righteousness, peaceableness, sobriety, loyalty and cha­rity; whether the world smiles or frowns upon him, he still holds to his principles, does the same things, and goes on in the same road; and nothing, neither honour nor dishonour, neither good report nor evil report can divert him from it.

2. This is not onely the plainest, but the wisest and safest rule, the best policy, all things considered. For if we reso­lutely maintain our innocence and inte­grity,

1. We shall ordinarily escape best in this life; but however

2. We shall be sure to come off well at last, and to be plentifully rewarded for our faithfulness and uprightness in the other world.

1. We shall ordinarily escape best in this life. There is nothing that doth more contribute to our safety and secu­rity even in the worst and most dange­rous times, than a firm and constant ad­herence to our duty. For,

(1.) By this we engage God Almighty to be our friend, and do most effectually recommend our selves to his care and good providence; so long as we commit our ways unto God in well-doing, and no hazards or dangers on the one side, nor any worldly advantages or conveni­ences on the other can prevail with us in any one instance to disobey him, we may be assured that he will never forsake us, but that he will either deliver us from those evils we fear, or else support us un­der them, and by the assistences of his blessed spirit enable us to bear them with patience and chearfulness. A good man in all his dangers and distresses hath a sure [Page 449]friend, who will always stand by him; an Almighty Saviour and Deliverer, on whom he may securely rely for salva­tion and protection; he is not afraid of evil tidings, his heart is fixed, trusting in the Lord: He hath nothing to agast him, or fill him with pale fears, and dreadfull terrours and jealousies; he hath no secret guilt that haunts him and stares him in the face, and severely threatens him; and therefore amidst all worldly distrac­tions and confusions, he is not dismayed; his innocence doth inspirit him with bold­ness and courage, he is not afraid to trust God with his life and honour, and estate, or any thing else that is dear to him; and can with an humble confidence and assu­rance, as it were, challenge the favour of Heaven, saying with good Hezekiah, Remember now, O Lord, I beseech thee, how I have walked before thee in truth and with a perfect heart, and have done that which is good in thy sight: though the earth should be removed, and the mountains carried into the midst of the Sea; though the waters thereof should roar and be troubled, and the moun­tains shake and tremble with the swelling thereof; nay, though the world should [Page 450]crack and break in pieces about his ears, yet intrepidum ferient ruinae, he would still be unmoved and unshaken. Knowing that his father, his friend, his patron and benefactour, whom he hath always ser­ved in the honesty and simplicity of his heart, is Pilot of the Ship, in all the storms and tempests of this lower world he can put his trust in God, and with an unshaken confidence commit himself, and all he hath, to him, who is engaged to protect and defend the innocent, who encourage and support themselves in him alone. The Lord is his strength, his for­tress, his refuge in the day of affliction, and under the shadow of his wings, as in an impregnable castle, he can securely hide and shelter himself, till these calami­ties be overpast.

But now on the other side the worldly projectour, who will not trust himself or his concerns with Almighty wisedom and power, but endeavours to secure himself, and to raise his fortunes, and make him­self great and considerable in the world by ways of his own devising, such as God doth not allow, nay doth strictly forbid; who, as it were, renounces God [Page 451]Almighty's care and protection, and places all his hope and confidence in his own craft and sagacity, hath nothing to support and bear up his spirit under any misfortunes. In a time of publick dan­ger and calamity he is the most discon­solate forsaken wretch in the world: his guilt arms every thing against him, and makes him afraid even of his own sha­dow, (like that wicked Emperour Cali­gula, who every time it thundred ran under his bed, as if he had been aimed at in every crack;) at such a time he is at his wits end, and knows not where to turn himself, and his hope is as a spider's web, nay as the giving up of the ghost.

(2.) An honest and upright man is most likely to find the best treatment from other men, even from the most wicked and ungodly. Who is he that will harm you, saith St. Peter, if ye be followers of that which is good? 1 Pet. 3.13. a good man is armed with innocence and harmlesness, which will guard and defend him from the injuries of wicked and lawless men: his unaffected piety, and unbyassed honesty, and undissem­bled charity, the excellency of his tem­per [Page 452]and disposition, and the unblamea­bleness of his life and conversation will speak in his behalf, and plead his cause, and procure him so much love and e­steem in the world, that there will be but few that can find the heart to doe him any mischief; as the harmless inno­cence and simplicity of little children do secure and protect them from all harm and violence, and engage every one al­most in their defence. Whence this ob­servation hath been made, and is justi­fied by experience, that one who is un­stable and wavering is loved by no man, because he is not fit to be trusted; but a man who is constant to worthy and ge­nerous principles commands the like con­stancy of esteem and veneration from all men, and is commonly safe and secure in all times, his very enemies reverencing such invincible vertue and honesty. He that desires and designs nothing but what is fair and reasonable, may promise him­self the good-will of all round about him: whereas he that is deeply engaged in worldly intrigues, and is resolved, per fas & nefas, to enrich himself, and is al­ways climing higher, trampling upon all that stand in his way, must necessarily [Page 453]be engaged in many quarrels, and make many enemies, and draw on himself the envy and ill-will of the proud and ambitious, and live in perpetual emula­tion and contention; for as he striveth to exceed and overtop others, so others endeavour as much to get before him; and though for a-while he getteth the better, yet his enemies are at work to undermine him, and blow him up, and he must expect that in a little time some sudden change of affairs, some unlucky hit or other will tumble him down, and put an end to all his fine designs and projects.

(3.) Whatever misfortunes and disap­pointments an honest upright man may meet with in the world, yet he incurs no real disgrace, he shall not be ashamed in an evil day: no man can reproach him, or justly insult over his fall. Whereas when the designs of ambitious and covetous oppressours are frustrated and defeated, when the crafty Politicians of this world are ensnared in their own devices, the city rejoiceth, it is matter of sport and triumph to their neighbours, and every one ac­knowledges the justice of it. But I hasten.

(4.) An upright man, how miserable and forlorn soever his outward condition be, yet is pleased and satisfied with him­self; his mind is at quiet, and though the weather abroad be never so blustering and tempestuous, yet there is a calm within, and he is then most sensible of the joy and contentment which flows from inno­cence and a rightly ordered conversation, when there is the most trouble and con­fusion without him. When all the plagues of God are poured upon Egypt, a good man is a Goshen to himself, hath light in darkness, and under the most cloudy ap­pearance of the Heavens, finds nothing but clearness and serenity in his own breast; and a good conscience can make a man rich and great and happy even in the midst of the greatest worldly miseries and distractions.

Whereas when wicked men are in any danger or distress, they have a secret enemy in their own bosoms, and their guilty consciences will fly in their faces, and fill them with amazing fears and ter­rours, and wrack and torture their souls with unexpressible grief and anguish. And [Page 455]oh! how sad and disconsolate must their condition needs be, when the arrows of the Almighty stick fast in them, and the poison thereof drinks up their spirits, and the terrours of God set themselves in ar­ray against them; when there is nothing but dismaying dangers and distractions abroad, and all outward hopes fail them, and at the same time their own minds write bitter things against them? this will double every evil that befalls them, the sense of guilt being the very sting and venom of all outward troubles and di­stresses. But

2. He that exactly observes the rules and dictates of his own conscience will be sure to come off well at last, in the final account and judgment; then God will confirm and ratify the sentence of his conscience, and publickly own and approve of what he hath done, and clear and vindicate his innocency, and reward his fidelity and constancy before all the world.

At that day, when all our great un­dertakers and contrivers of mischief, all the cunning practisers of guile and hy­pocrisie [Page 456]shall lie down in shame, when their secret arts and base tricks, whereby they imposed on the world, shall be de­tected and proclaimed, as it were, upon the house-top, and all their unworthy projects and designs shall be laid open and naked, being stript of those specious pretences they here disguised them with; when the hidden things of darkness shall be brought to light, and the counsels of all mens hearts shall be made manifest as the noon-day; at that day, I say, the upright and righteous man shall stand in great boldness, and shall lift up his head with joy and confidence; and then it will appear that he was the best politician, and the onely person that either under­stood or regarded his true interest.

To conclude all. Our consciences are either our best friends, or our greatest enemies; they are either a continual feast, or a very hell to us. A conscience well resolved and setled, is the greatest comfort of our lives, the best antidote a­gainst all kind of temptations, the most pretious treasure that we can lay up against an evil day, and our surest and strongest hold to secure us from all dangers, which [Page 457]can never be taken unless through our own folly and negligence.

But an evil clamorous conscience that is continually twitting and reproaching us, is a perpetual wrack and torment; it wasts our spirits, and preys upon our hearts, and eats out the sweetness of all our worldly enjoyments, and fills us with horrid fears and ghastly apprehensions; this is that knawing worm that never dieth, the necessary fruit of sin and guilt, and the necessary cause of everlasting an­guish and vexation.

LIFE and immortality by a figure often used in the holy Scriptures is the same with immortal life, which our Saviour hath brought to light, that is, hath given us undoubted assu­rance of, by the revelation of the Gospel.

For though all men by the light of na­ture have some apprehensions of a future state, yet their reasonings about it, when left to themselves are miserably vain and uncertain, and often very wild and extra­vagant. The best discourses of the Hea­thens about the other life were weak and obscure, and the wisest Philosophers spake but doubtfully and conjecturally about it; nor even in the books of Moses, or wri­tings of the Prophets, are there contai­ned any plain express promises of eternal life; all the knowledge men had of it be­fore was but like the faint glimmerings of twilight, till the sun of righteousness appeared; till God was pleased to send one from that invisible world, even his own most dear Son to dwell here and converse amongst men, to make a full discovery to us of this unknown coun­trey, and to conduct us in the onely true way to this everlasting happiness; an happiness so great that we have not words big enough to express it, nor faculties large enough to comprehend it: but yet so much of it is clearly revealed to us in the Gospel as is most abundantly suffici­ent to raise our thoughts and incite our [Page 461]sincerest endeavours for the obtaining of it.

By which plain revelation of this state of immortality,

First, Is most illustriously manifested to us the transcendent goodness and in­dulgence of our most mercifull Creatour, in that he will be pleased to reward such imperfect services, such mean performan­ces as the best of ours are with glory so immense, as that eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor can it enter into the heart of man to conceive the greatness of it. There is nothing in us, nor any thing done by us that bears the least proporti­on to such an ample recompence. Our best actions stand in need of a pardon, so far are they from deserving to be crowned. All possible duty and obedi­ence we certainly owe to him, to whom we owe our beings, and should God al­mighty have exacted it from us onely on the account of his sovereign authority over us as we are his creatures we had been indispensably obliged to all subjecti­on to him; but that he should over and above promise to reward our faithfulness [Page 462]to him with eternal life, this is a most wonderfull instance of his infinite grace and goodness.

Secondly, By this revelation of immor­tal life is farther demonstrated the excee­ding great love of our ever blessed Savi­our, who by his death and perfect obedi­ence not onely purchased pardon for all our past rebellions and transgressions, not onely redeemed us from hell and destruc­tion to which we had all rendred our selves most justly liable, (which alone had been an unspeakable favour) but al­so merited an everlasting kingdom of glory for us, if with true repentance we return to our duty. And this if any thing shews the infinite value and efficacy of our Saviour's appearing on our behalf, that by his most powerfull mediation he obtained not onely freedom from punish­ment, but also unexpressibly glorious re­wards for us vile and wretched sinners up­on easie and most reasonable conditions.

Thirdly, This especially recommends our Christianity to us, which contains such glad tidings, which propounds such mighty arguments to engage us to our [Page 463]duty, such as no other religion ever did or could. For since hope and fear are the great hinges of all government, and the most prevailing passions of humane nature, what better thing can be pro­pounded to our hope than to be as happy both in body and soul as we can be, and that for ever? what more dreadfull thing to our fear than everlasting misery? and this indeed is the utmost that can be said or offered to men in order to the reclai­ming them from their sins, and recove­ring them to a conscientious observance of God's laws, that God hath appointed a day wherein he will call all men to an account for the deeds they have done in this body, and reward the sincere, faith­full Christian with immortal glory, and punish the disobedient and impenitent with everlasting vengeance, and if men can harden themselves against these most powerfull considerations, if they are not at all concerned or solicitous about their eternal happiness or misery, what other motives are likely to prevail with them, or able to make any impression upon them? For is there any thing of grea­ter weight and moment that can be pro­pounded to the reasons and understan­dings [Page 464]of men than what shall become of them in a state which they are very shortly to enter upon, and which shall never have an end?

I humbly therefore beg your patience whilst with all the plainness and serious­ness I can, I apply my self to these three sorts of persons.

I. To those who would seem to doubt of this fundamental doctrine of a future life.

II. To those who profess to believe it, but not fully and heartily.

III. To those who do really and con­stantly believe it.

I. I begin with those who would seem to doubt of this fundamental doctrine of a future life. And though far better things are to be hoped concerning all here present, who shew so much respect to religion, as to bear a part in God's solemn worship, yet since nothing is more com­plained of than the prevailing atheism of this age; and since, if we judge of mens [Page 465]faith by their lives, we cannot but suspect many of those who pass among us for or­thodox believers to be really no other than mere infidels in these matters: I shall not wholly pass these sort of persons by: not that I design at large to shew you the unreasonableness of atheism, or to set before you the undeniable eviden­ces we have of another world; but I shall put the whole cause upon this short issue.

Let us for once be so kind to the scepti­cal disputers against religion as to suppose what they are never able to prove, that it is a very doubtfull thing whether there will be another life after this; that it is possible that all these stories of a judg­ment to come, heaven and hell, are mere fables, the inventions of crafty po­liticians and designing Priests; and that all good and vertuous men have been miserably deceived and fed with fond hopes and fancies, and have unnecessari­ly troubled themselves about the matters of religion: (and surely you will all ac­knowledge this to be a very large con­cession) yet granting all this, nothing is more plain than that if we would act prudently, and consult our own safety [Page 466]we ought to believe and live as if all these doctrines of religion were most certainly true; for every wise man will run as lit­tle hazard as he can, especially in such things as are of highest concernment to him, and wherein a mistake would be fa­tal and undoing. Here therefore be plea­sed to consider,

(I.) What little hazard he runs, or what little loss he ordinarily undergoes who believes and acts according to these principles, should they all at last prove false.

(II.) What extreme and desperate ha­zard he runs, who doth not believe, nor live according to them, should they all at last prove true.

(1.) What little hazard he runs, or what little loss he ordinarily undergoes who believes and acts according to these principles should they all at last prove false. All that this man loses or ventures is onely some present gratifications, and enjoyments which he denies himself; he crosses indeed the irregular inclinations of his nature, and forbears those excesses [Page 467]that are truly hurtfull to him, and lives according to the dignity of his species, and is possessed with cares and fears a­bout another world, (and these even the atheist himself cannot wholly free his mind from) and ties up himself to seve­ral rules and strict duties, which contri­bute not a little to his convenient living here, and perhaps is exposed to some hardships, reproaches and sufferings for righteousness sake; and this is the worst of his case: but on the other side, he is blessed at present with a contented life, with peace of conscience, and the joyfull expectation of an eternal reward hereaf­ter; so that if he be in the right, he is then made for ever; if not, if he be mi­staken, his condition however will be no worse than other mortals; he will have lost indeed all the pains and trouble he was at about religion, but if his soul sur­vive not his body, he will never be sensi­ble of it; this disappointment will never vex nor grieve him in that land where all things are forgotten. So that a vertuous and righteous man may ordinarily pass his days here more easily and comforta­bly than any wicked person, and please himself all his life long with the hopes or [Page 468]dreams of future glories; which fancy alone (were it no other) will make him abundant recompence for all the self-de­nial it puts him upon. But if these things at last prove true, he is then blessed above all expression; if they prove false and vain hopes, and there be no other life after this, yet will it be as well with him as with the Atheist in that supposed state of eternal silence and insensibility. He runs no hazard, he loses nothing except some forbidden pleasures, which in most cases it is best for him, even as to this life, to be without. He is safe if these doctrines be not true, and unspeakably happy for ever if they be true.

(2.) Consider the extreme and despe­rate hazard that man runs who doth not believe nor act according to these princi­ples, should they at last prove true; for he stakes and pawns all that can be called good and desirable; he ventures being for ever undone and miserable, if he should chance to be mistaken in his opi­nion, and it should at last prove that there is another life after this. And therefore nothing would sooner convince such men of their deadly folly, than if [Page 469]they would but sometimes ask themselves when they are calm and sober a few such questions as these: What though I have almost persuaded my self that religion is nothing but a melancholy dream, or a po­litick cheat, or a common errour; yet what if at last it should be true? How dismal, and of what affrighting conse­quence is a mistake in such a matter as this? what amazing, surprizing thoughts, fears and despairs will it fill me with, if after all I should find my self to be alive when my friends had closed my eyes, and should presently be hurried away in­to the company of those spirits, which I had before derided and droll'd upon, and into the presence of that God whose exi­stence I had boldly denied? What hor­rour and confusion must it create, when my infidelity shall be confuted by such a wofull experiment, and I shall find my self suddenly entred into that endless state which I would not here believe any thing of?

Were the arguments on both sides e­qual, yet the hazards are infinitely une­qual, since the one runs the chance of being for ever happy, the other runs the [Page 470]chance of being eternally miserable. Which one consideration justifies the dis­cretion of a religious man in renouncing and despising the glories and pleasures of this world, though it were very uncer­tain whether there were another life after this. How much greater madness then must they needs be guilty of, who reject this doctrine of another life, against all the probabilities, reasons, nay, demon­strations of the truth of it? when they have as great evidence of the truth of it as its nature will admit of; when God from Heaven hath most plainly revealed it to them; when this revelation is con­firmed by all the signs and testimonies they can reasonably expect and demand; nay, when he hath implanted in their souls such a lively apprehension of it, as that they must offer the greatest force and violence to their own minds before they can bring themselves to disbelieve it? nay, I believe, let the most resolved sinner labour and struggle never so hard with himself to subdue and extirpate this natural persuasion of another life, yet af­ter all his pains he will not be able whol­ly to root out all thoughts and fears of it. This shall suffice for the first sort of per­sons, [Page 471]those who doubt of, or deny this great fundamental of Religion. I pro­ceed now,

II. To those who profess to believe this immortal life, but yet doe it not re­ally and heartily. And this I fear is the case of the generality of Christians a­mongst us. For it may well be enquired, what is the reason that this promise of e­ternal life, (than which there cannot be a greater) hath yet so little power upon mens minds, doth so little move their affections? what makes their endeavours after it so faint and languid? Are any of those good things which men here court and seek after so desirable and con­siderable as the glories and joys of Hea­ven? or are there any evils in this world that can vie terrours with Hell? this cannot be pretended since all the good or evil things of this world can onely make us happy or miserable for a short time, for this life at most, which is not to be named with living for ever either in un­speakable happiness or misery. Whence is it then that Christians are so strangely cold and indifferent about these most weighty things of another life, as if they [Page 472]were of no concernment to them? After all our search we must resolve it into one of these two causes.

Either that men, whatever they pro­fess, do not heartily believe this Doc­trine, or else that they do not duly con­sider it.

(1.) Most men, whatever they pro­fess or pretend, though they dare not re­nounce or deny it, yet are not heartily and thoroughly persuaded of the certain­ty of this future state. Their understan­dings were never rationally convinced of the truth of it, and so the belief of it is not firmly rooted and setled in their minds.

Would but God Almighty be gra­tiously pleased to indulge to us a sight of those future glories and miseries which he hath revealed in the Gospel, this we imagine would certainly prevail for the conviction and reformation of all men. Would he give us, though but a short and transient view of that blessed place where himself dwells, that we might but for a few moments behold the joys and [Page 473]triumphs of those happy souls that are admitted into his beatifick presence; or would he but open the gates of Hell, and once suffer us to look into those dismal receptacles of impure spirits, that so we might be eye and ear witnesses of their grievous torments and horrid despair, such a sight as this we doubt not would presently change us all, and make us whatever God requires us to be.

But God's ways are not as our ways, nor his thoughts as our thoughts. He governs men in a method suited to their reasona­ble natures, and hath given us such assu­rances of another life, as are abundantly sufficient to satisfy and convince the un­derstandings of men, but yet may be re­sisted by those who have no mind, or are resolved not to believe it. For there could have been no trial of men, no dis­crimination made between the wise and considering, and the foolish and wicked, if the rewards of Religion had been pre­sent, or exposed to our senses. God will not force a faith upon us, as the sight of these things would do, but will have it to be a matter of choice, and an instance of vertue in us. No praise is due to them [Page 474]who believe onely what they see. Such cannot be said to believe God, but their own eyes: but rather blessed are they, saith our Saviour, who have not seen, and yet have believed. God hath denied us the sight of these things to prove us, and try whether we dare trust his promises and threatnings. Our belief therefore of this invisible world, if we would have it effectual for the amendment of our hearts and lives, must be so strong and power­full as to serve instead of ocular and sen­sible demonstration. (Whence the Apo­stle calls it, Heb. 1.11. the evidence of things not seen,) that so the things unseen which God hath revealed to us, may have the same effect upon us, (not as to degree, but the same real effect) as if the other world were always visible to us.

Now our belief of any thing must ne­cessarily be stronger or weaker according as the evidence is upon which it is be­lieved; and that not onely as the evi­dence is in it self, but as it is perceived by us. For however evident a thing may be in it self, yet if it doth not appear so to us, our belief of it must be very un­certain and wavering, because it is [Page 475]groundless. Since then the truths or principles of Religion, which relate to another life, are not things to be seen or felt, we can be assured of them onely by undeniable arguments and testimonies; about which we must use our reasons, and our discerning and judging faculties before we can understand the force of them, or be really convinced by them. Not that there is any great difficulty in apprehending these arguments; but yet there is required such attention of mind and serious thoughts about them, and a frequent revolving over the proofs and evidences of a future state with such dili­gence and carefull examination of them, as all men ordinarily use about other matters, wherein they are greatly con­cerned to find out the truth.

But now is any thing more plain, than that the generality of Christians, who profess these Doctrines of Religion, are so far from being rationally by the force of arguments convinced of the truth of them, that very few amongst them ever so much as set themselves to enquire into the reasons of their belief? They owe their faith solely to education, preposses­sion, [Page 476]instruction and example of others, take it up without any consideration of the grounds and reasons of it: and is it then at all wonderfull that this faith should have but very little force or power on mens minds, which is thus re­ceived without any rational conviction of their understandings, which is thus weakly founded and supported? Any little blast will overthrow that house which is thus built upon the sands.

I deny not but that a belief thus ta­ken up upon trust, and confirmed by a long and customary profession of it, may be so strong, and a man may be so resol­ved in it, as that he will never stir from it. But then, I say, this is not the faith which our Saviour requires, or which God will accept of in those who are ca­pable of a better; and a Mahometan, born and bred at Constantinople, hath as good reason for his belief of the Alcoran, as such a one hath for the belief of Christia­nity. Such a faith is onely an obstinacy in adhering to those things which we were first taught, whether true or false, and is common to men in all Religions.

Our understanding is the imperial and governing faculty of our souls. It is that which doth engage our wills and affec­tions, and so consequently by them move and excite us to action. When therefore our understanding doth assent to any truth upon clear and satisfactory evi­dence, being overpowred by the force of reason and argument, it must needs propound it with greater strength and authority to the lower faculties, and so must have more powerfull influence upon all our affections and actions. Otherwise how can we expect but that any little reason should be too hard for, and baffle that faith, which is grounded on no rea­son at all? or how can we think that those things which we believe, but with­out any sufficient convincing motive or evidence, should outweigh those things which we are more certain of, which we daily see, feel and experience, such as are the present sensible pleasures, and the visible good and evil things of this life? This therefore is one great reason of the inefficacy of mens faith, that their belief of these great truths was never well rooted and fixed in their understandings.

(2.) If our understandings are so fully convinced of these truths, that we can­not any longer doubt of them, and yet this belief is not effectual for our refor­mation, the reason then must be onely because we do not really consider them. The understanding hath not such an ab­solute power over the will, as necessarily to determine it always to that which it judges best and fittest; but after our un­derstandings have yielded, our wills may stubbornly hold out against the siege and batteries of the clearest evidence, and strongest reasons, if the truths propoun­ded be contrary to our fleshly lusts, and worldly interests.

For the will of man is a kind of mid­dle faculty between the understanding and the bodily inclinations; and as it is moved by our understanding to follow and obey its dictates, so also it is most importunately solicited by our lower fleshly appetites and lusts, craving their several satisfactions and gratifications, and by outward objects that continually thrust themselves upon us agreeable to those desires and propensities. Hence [Page 479]ariseth a great conflict between those truths of Religion which are propounded by our understandings on the one side, and our inferiour sensitive faculties on the other. Our lusts being checked and crossed by the hopes and fears of another life, make the shrewdest objections a­gainst the principles of Religion, and do with all their force and power oppose the entertainment of them in our minds, and on the success of this contest doth especi­ally depend the efficacy of our faith.

Thus it was with very many amongst the Jews, whilst our blessed Saviour was alive here upon earth. They could not resist those undoubted testimonies which he gave of his being the Son of God; but yet the love of this world, or fear of sufferings had so much greater power over their wills, as that they could never prevail with themselves to become his Disciples. St. John 12.42, 43. Among the chief rulers many believed on him, but because of the Pharisees they did not confess him, lest they should be put out of the Synagogue. For they loved the praise of men more than the praise of God.

It is not enough therefore that these truths of Religion have subdued our un­derstanding by the evidence of reason, but they must also conquer our will, and draw out its affections after them, before ever they can have any lasting effect up­on our lives. For the affections of the will are the most immediate principles of all our actions, and therefore till our be­lief hath powerfully wrought upon these affections of love, desire, hope, fear, it can have little or no influence upon our outward actions.

Now the way and means to obtain this consent of our wills and affections to these truths thus propounded by our understan­dings, is often and most seriously to con­sider the immense greatness of the happi­ness offered to us; the extremity of the misery threatned; how vastly it con­cerns us what our portion shall be in that eternal state; how unspeakably sad and unpitied our condition will be, if we foolishly neglect providing for it; how infinitely the glory of Heaven doth surpass all the joys and pleasures of this life. These things, and the like, in a [Page 481]lively manner represented unto, and fixed in our minds, will by degrees so captivate our wills and affections, as that we cannot but love and chuse this future happiness as our greatest good; fear and fly from this eternal misery as the greatest evil that can possibly be­tide us.

Of such infinite moment are the con­cerns of eternity, that if we do but pa­tiently attend to them, and exercise our thoughts freely about them; if we will not suffer our lust to bribe and byass our judgments or to stifle and choak these prin­ciples of Religion; they will at last awa­ken our consciences, and prevail above all present temptations. And when our faith, by the frequent and serious consideration of the mighty importance of these mat­ters, and of their consequence to us, hath made such a complete conquest over our minds and wills, then our actions will of themselves naturally follow. For men will live and act agreably to what they love, desire, hope for, or fear most.

So effectually hath our Christianity provided for the happiness of all men, [Page 482]that nothing can make us miserable, but either not believing, or not considering the great arguments of Religion.

The different behaviour of men as to the promises of our Saviour concerning another life, I shall beg leave to illustrate by this plain similitude.

Suppose a person of great credit and authority should now appear amongst us, and should propound to us, that if we would follow him, entirely resigning up our selves to be governed by him, he would safely conduct us all to a certain Countrey or Island, where we should possess all that our hearts could wish, should be all Kings and Princes, and flow in all manner of wealth, and enjoy an uninterrupted health; in a word, want nothing that men can fansie could contribute any way to their complete sa­tisfaction and contentment: and farther, that he should give all the security that any reasonable man could expect or de­mand that this was no vain promise or il­lusion. Now some amongst us will give no heed at all to what this man offers, nor be convinced by any reasons or ar­guments [Page 483]he can give them; but being ei­ther prejudiced against his person, or dis­liking the conditions, streight reject him for a Deceiver and Impostour. These are the Atheists and unbelievers.

Others are indeed convinced that all this is likely to be true, they cannot see any sufficient cause to doubt of it; but yet they enjoy such conveniences, and are so taken with their present circumstances here, as that they will not quit them for these hopes. These are the fond lovers of this world.

Others are willing to go to this place, but they think it time enough yet. They would tarry and live here where they are, as long as they can; and when they can stay no longer here, then they would be glad to be wafted to this fortu­nate Island. These are they that defer their repentance till a death-bed.

Others acknowledge that there is such a place, where a man may live as hap­pily as this person describes, but they sus­pect that he doth not shew the right way to it. They would find out a nearer and [Page 484]shorter cut to this Countrey. These are Hereticks and Schismaticks.

Others are resolved to venture with him, and begin the journey; but mee­ting with some difficulties and dangers in the passage, they are soon discouraged and frighted, and return home. These are they who receive the word of God gladly, but when tribulation and persecu­tion arise, by and by they are offended.

Lastly, a few amongst us wholly re­lying upon this Person's promises, and preferring them before all present posses­sions and enjoyments, forsake all their concerns and relations here, and abso­lutely give up themselves to his guidance. And when in the passage they meet with any dangers or hardships, cross winds or storms; though this may make them stagger a little, and fill them with doubts and fears; yet they are resolved still to go on, and venture all upon it. These, and these onely, are the true believers.

There are many degrees of faith, but the least degree of saving faith is, when the consideration of another world is be­come [Page 485]our most prevailing interest, and is the main principle that gives law and rule to all our conversation. Let none then think to be saved by such a faith as the very Devils in Hell have, and yet re­main Devils still. They believe these great truths of Christianity as really and as much as thou dost, who onely assen­test to them in thy understanding, and confessest them with thy mouth, but de­niest and contradictest them in thy life and practice.

To pretend to believe this great doc­trine of another life which shall never end, and not to govern our selves by this persuasion, is the most unaccountable and prodigious folly that a reasonable creature can be guilty of; according to that famous saying of a great man in this case, That the strangest monster in nature was a speculative Atheist, one that de­nies the being of a God and a future state, excepting one, and that was the practical Atheist who professed to believe both, but lived as if he was certain there were neither.

Nor indeed is the difference between them great. The one, the Atheist, winks hard, and so rushes blindfold upon eter­nal ruine. The other, the wicked be­liever, runs madly upon it with both his eyes wide open. How inexcusable must they be at the last day; what plea can they offer for themselves, who obsti­nately refused that happiness, which yet they acknowledged to be infinitely be­yond all that this world could bless its most darling favourites with? who wil­fully precipitated themselves into those evils and miseries which they had a plain foresight of.

I conclude this head with that answer which a defender of Atheistical Princi­ples is said once to have given to a com­panion of his, who freely indulged him­self in the same vitious course of life the Atheist did; but yet took upon him to wonder how one that denied the being of a God, and of a future life, could quiet his mind in such a desperate estate. Nay rather, says the Atheist, it is much more strange how you can quiet your mind, or sleep contentedly in such a vitious course of [Page 487]life as I see you lead, whilst you believe such things as you say you do. And so in­deed one would think that it was impos­sible for such a man to live in peace, without laying aside either his faith or his sins. Now the Atheist chuses to lay aside his faith, that he may sin more quietly; the true Christian lays aside his sins, that they may not defeat his hopes: and which of these two acts more wisely, if we will not see in this our day, the fi­nal event and issue of things will cer­tainly convince us to our everlasting re­gret and confusion. Thus much for those who do profess to believe another life, but do it not really and heartily.

III. All that remains is to apply my self in a few words to those who do heartily and constantly believe this great truth of another life after this; who not onely assent to this doctrine with their understandings, but have made this fu­ture happiness their ultimate choice and desire. And to them I need not say much; for this faith alone will always teach them what to doe, without the help of an instructour. It will e'en force them to doe well, without a guide or monitour.

This will fortify our minds against all the temptations we may meet with from this world, or any of its bewitching en­joyments. So that that man who hath his eternal state always in his eye, is set above the power of this world's frowns or smiles. He can neither be tempted by the sufferings of this life, nor yet enticed by any of its alluring charms. Can he, whose thoughts are fixed upon thrones and kingdoms, and immortal glory, be diverted by the gay baubles, or glittering toys which this world presents him with? It offers him infinitely too little. When the soul once by faith is mounted beyond the stars into that place where God and his Saviour dwells, how mean and con­temptible, how vile and sordid do all things here below appear? when this whole earth seems but a point, how next to nothing is that small pittance of it which any one man can possess or enjoy? Faith looks beyond this present scene of things; beholds this world dissolv'd, and all the glory and pomp of it vanishing; and this curtain being drawn, there ap­pears to his view a new world, wherein are joys and pleasures and honours sub­stantial [Page 489]and eternal; the prospect and fore-thought of which, rectifies his judg­ment about these inferiour things, and begets very slight and undervaluing thoughts of all things on this side Hea­ven.

This faith will inspire us with strength and activity, and carry us out even be­yond our selves; will animate us with such courage and resolution, as that we shall despise all dangers and difficulties, and think eternal happiness a good bar­gain, whatever pains or trouble it may cost us to purchase it. Such great hopes set before us, will animate us with an undaunted bravery and courage, and en­able us to work wonders.

This conquers the love of life it self, which is most deeply implanted in our natures; for what will not a man give or part with for the saving of his life? Yet they who have been endued with this faith, have not counted their lives dear to them, so that they might finish their course with joy.

I have not time now to set before you the trophies and victories which this faith hath atchieved; you may find many of them recorded in the famous 11th chap­ter to the Hebrews, where the Apostle for the encouragement of all true belie­vers, propounds to us the brave exam­ples of the holy Patriarchs and Prophets of old, who through faith subdued king­doms, wrought righteousness, out of weak­ness were made strong, were tortured not accepting deliverance that they might ob­tain a better resurrection, had trial of cruel mockings and scourgings, yea moreover of bonds and imprisonments: they were stoned, they were sawn asunder, were slain with the sword, wandred about in sheep-skins and goat-skins, afflicted, destitute and tormen­ted. These and many more like these were the exploits of the Saints under the old Testament, who had not so clear a re­velation of this eternal state, as we now have under the Gospel. But far greater yet, and more stupendious are the tri­umphs of faith in the holy lives and pa­tient deaths of the blessed Apostles, and primitive Martyrs and Confessours, who with invincible constancy endured pains [Page 491]and torments to flesh and bloud insup­portable, onely assisted and upheld by the grace of God, and a lively faith in this promise of his son Jesus. They clap'd their hands, and sang praises in the midst of scorching slames, they took joyfully the spoiling of their goods, and gave God thanks that they were counted worthy to suffer for his name: and without doubt God's grace and the same lively faith would produce in us the very same ef­fects, and enable us to doe and to suffer the same things with the same joy and resolution.

But farther, This faith by degrees moulds and transforms the mind into a likeness to these heavenly objects, it ad­vances and raises our spirits, so that they become truly great and noble, and makes us, as St. Peter tells us, partakers of a di­vine nature.

It filleth the soul with constant peace and satisfaction, so that in all conditions of life, a good man can feast himself with unseen joys and delights, which the worldly man neither knows, nor can relish. This makes him content with [Page 492]any small allowance of this worlds goods and glad if by any hard shift he can rub through this world till he comes to his Kingdom.

He is but very little concerned about these seemingly grand affairs of this life, which so much take up and busie other mens thoughts and time. He converseth most with invisible objects, and with them finds that solid and lasting comfort, which all outward things can neither give nor take away.

He hath something to uphold and chear his spirit under all worldly calami­ties and distractions; and when he is wearied with the impertinencies of this life, or is not pleased with things here below; he can retire himself into the other world, and there entertain his mind with those ravishing joys that ne­ver cloy nor satiate.

Nay, this faith arms a man against the fear of death; it strips that King of terrours of all his grim looks; for he considers it onely as God's messenger to knock off his fetters, to free him from [Page 493]this fleshly prison, and to conduct him to that blessed place, where he shall be more happy than he can wish or desire to be, and that for ever.

All this and much more than I can now speak, will this faith do, where it is sincere and hearty. It will serve us in­stead of sight; it will afford us a fore-tast of this immortal happiness; it will give us present entrance into heaven in part, and at last a full and complete fruition of it.

Oh then let it be most plainly seen by our words, by our works, by all we doe, whereever we are, what our faith and hope is. Let it appear to all men that we walk by faith, not by sight or sense. Sense is a mean, low, narrow principle, confin'd to this present time, and this lower earth; it can reach no higher than these outward visible things, nor can it look farther than things present. But the just shall live by faith; they steer their course and govern their lives, not by what they see, but by what they believe and hope for, loo­king beyond things temporal for those things that are eternal.

Let us not be ashamed of this our de­sign and aim-before all men, that what­ever others think or say of us for it, we are resolved to be happy, not onely for a few days or years, but for ever; that we will so use this world as those that must shortly leave it; that we will so im­prove and husband our time, as remem­bring that it will soon be no more, but be swallowed up in eternity: and did the stupid world know and believe what you doe, they would no longer wonder at your being so much moved in a case of such unspeakable and everlasting conse­quence.

Blessed be God who hath set such mighty hopes before us, who hath given us such glorious promises, who hath made such a plain and clear revelation of this eternal life by Jesus Christ, and hath by him taught us the true way of obtai­ning it; who himself became to us an ex­ample of that holy life he prescribed to us, and after he had suffered for our transgressions in our nature, entred into the highest heavens to prepare mansions of glory for all the faithfull followers of [Page 495]him. To whom therefore with the Fa­ther and Holy Ghost, one eternal God, be ascribed by us and all men, all praise, thanksgiving and obedience for evermore. Amen.