H- ^ 
 
 I THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY,* 
 * Princeton, N.J- # 
 
 *BV 4500 .F56 1830 W 
 
 Flavel, John, 16307-1691. | 
 The saint indeed ; and, The \ 
 touchstone of sincerity | 
 
:EJ?"r JQM^i i'iiv^lil*. 
 
THE 
 
 SAINT INDEED, 
 
 AND THE 
 
 TOUCHSTONE OF SINCERITY. 
 
 BY THE ,' 
 
 REV. JOHN FLAVEL, 
 
 WITH 
 
 AN INTRODUCTORY ESSAY, 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV. DAVID YOUNG, 
 
 PERTH. 
 
 GLASGOW: 
 
 PRINTED FOR WILLIAM COLLINS; 
 
 OUVCR & BOYD, WM. WHYTE & CO. AND WM. OLIPHANT, EDINBURGH; 
 
 W. F. WAKEMAN, AND WM. CURRY, JUN. & CO. DUBLIN ; 
 
 WHTTTAKER, TREACHER, & ARNOT ; HAMILTON, ADAMS, & CO. 
 
 SIMPKIN & MARSHALL ; BALDWIN & CRADOCK ; 
 
 AND HURST, CHANCE, & CO. LONDON. 
 
 MDCCCXXX. 
 
:_:^_ 
 
 Printed by W. Collins & Co. 
 Glasgow. 
 
^' N, 
 
 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 There are some men whose characters are best for- 
 gotten when you sit down to peruse their writings ; 
 there are others whose Hves are a happy enforcement 
 of every thing which drops from their pens. Of 
 this latter class was John Flavel, the author of the 
 two searching performances which we now give anew 
 to the public. There is no exaggeration in describ- 
 ing him as a master in the science of Theology, 
 learned and acute in controversy, assiduous in the 
 acquisition, and skilful in the use of a large store of 
 general information, and gifted with an eloquence at 
 once polished and impressive, simple and seraphic, 
 which must have infused a peculiar charm into his oral 
 instructions. These, however, are but secondary qua- 
 lities, although highly subservient to the Christian 
 ministry. They are descriptive of the head rather than 
 of the heart, and where nothing more can be predi- 
 cated, there remains a great and dismal deficiency in 
 the portraiture of the man of God. In the portraiture 
 of Flavel there was no such deficiency, but a conspicu- 
 ous assemblage of Christian virtues, which merged the 
 
VI 
 
 distinctions of his learning and eloquence in the richer 
 excellencies of his heart. His mind was so deeply im- 
 bued with the Gospel, as a matter of transcendent 
 importance, and the theme of his daily contemplative 
 delight, that preaching it in all its sufficiency to the 
 perishing multitudes around him, was essential to the 
 comfort of his earthly existence. Of him it may be 
 said, with very peculiar emphasis, that the spirit of 
 the Gospel caught him away from every engrossing 
 secular concern, moulding his mind into its own 
 fashion, and separating his faculties to its own ser- 
 vice, with a strength of purpose and fervour of devo- 
 tion, which are seldom equalled and rarely surpassed 
 by the most distinguished heralds of the cross. In 
 chastened zeal and singleness of aim, his mind was 
 truly apostolic, converting duty into privilege, and 
 labour into conscious pleasure, amidst great diversity 
 of trial and difficulty. The times in which he lived 
 were times of trouble; but his manner of life when 
 involved in trouble, the loss of emolument, to which 
 he submitted for the sake of a good conscience, and 
 the personal hazard which he fearlessly incurred in 
 the prosecution of his ministry, are evidence not to 
 be questioned, that although he could preach without 
 a living, he could not live without preaching. It is 
 this happy affinity with the Gospel, as something 
 identified with his very nature, which gave to his 
 writings that ease and artlessness, and free access to 
 the sympathies of his reader, with which they are 
 every where characterized, and reveals the secret of 
 that plastic influence, which made his mind to bend 
 to his subject, and not his subject to his mind, in all 
 his intercourse with Christian truth. 
 
vu 
 
 Flavel, however, was very far from being a mere 
 Evangelical, in the sense imposed on that term by the 
 flippancy of modern sarcasm. It is true he con- 
 sidered the sovereignty of grace, and the entire moral 
 inabiUty of man, as doctrines absolutely fundamental 
 to accurate views of the Christian system ; but, like 
 all who are enlightenedly evangelical, he was also a 
 Christian moralist of the very highest order, unfold- 
 ing the principles of true morality, in the sublime of 
 their heavenly origin, and enforcing obedience to its 
 precepts without abatement or compromise, as the 
 best of all evidence of genuine religion. Nor was 
 he merely a teacher of morality, but a living example 
 of his own instructions. What he enjoined he se- 
 dulously practised, and what he prohibited he stu- 
 diously shunned — thus commending a life of holiness 
 as a matter of personal experience, and requiring no- 
 thing of any one, but merely to walk along with him 
 in the paths of Christian righteousness. 
 
 The two things, perhaps, for which Flavel was 
 most remarkable, are mature and extensive experience 
 of Christianity as a matter of personal exercise, and 
 a strong propensity to Christian good- doing, excited 
 by a peculiar sweetness and benevolence of disposition. 
 The first of these, combined with the vigour and 
 soundness of his understanding, made him eminently 
 skilful in analyzing the religion of the heart. He 
 carefully studied his own heart in all its varied phe- 
 nomena, and this afforded him wonderful facilities in 
 directing others to the study of theirs ; for " as face 
 answereth to face in a glass, so doth the heart of man 
 to man." If we except the peerless " Edwards on 
 Religious Affections," a work which is tacitly ex- 
 
Vlll 
 
 eluded from all our ordinary comparisons, we know 
 not another writer whose accuracy in detecting false 
 experience, and rescuing the true from dubious alli- 
 ance, is more to be relied on than that of Flavel. 
 Our opinion may be overstrained, and we own it is 
 connected with early impressions; but we cannot 
 easily suppress it, and are pretty confident of support 
 to it firom the majority of competent judges. The 
 second peculiarity to which we have adverted was a 
 happy concomitant of this one, combining the warmth 
 of a generous heart with the seeming severity of a 
 rigid dissection, and pouring the oil of the tenderest 
 sympathy into the wounds which his faithfulness in- 
 flicted. Such is a sketch of the celebrated Flavel ; 
 and if the reader shaU carry it along with him in 
 perusing the following pages, he may see it in every 
 series of sentiment, and feel the weight of his hea- 
 venly character giving special effect to his practical 
 conclusions. 
 
 ' The Saint Indeed,' and ' The Touchstone of 
 Sincerity,' are perhaps the best of Flavel's writings, 
 so far as the religion of the heart is concerned ; and 
 they are both so plain and practical, that a child may 
 easily understand them, while the man of intellect 
 and acquirement will find them well entitled to his 
 most serious perusal. It is the leading proposition 
 of ' The Saint Indeed,' " that the keeping and 
 right managing of the heart in every condition, is the 
 great business of the Christian's life ;" and the Au- 
 thor, in illustrating this proposition, explains what is 
 meant by " keeping the heart" — vindicates the claim 
 of this exercise to the Christian's chief attention- 
 specifies seasons and circumstances which render it 
 
IX 
 
 peculiarly necessary — and urges the whole on tlie 
 reader's attention by a series of appropriate deductions. 
 These things he prosecutes with an ease of concep- 
 tion, an accuracy of discrimination, and persuasive 
 warmth of affectionate appeal, which cannot fail to be 
 gratefully instructive to all who have any acquain- 
 tance with religion as a matter of experience. Our 
 hope of good from this part of the volume, however, 
 goes beyond the edification of those who have already 
 commenced the business of religion. W^e do think 
 it better fitted than many more elaborate perform- 
 ances, for arresting the frivolous and profane, and 
 inclining even their hearts to the pure and peaceable 
 wisdom which cometh from above. Its judicious se- 
 lection of matter, its uniform brevity of parts, its 
 dignified simplicity, its plain dealing, but above all, 
 its latent power of gentle and hallowed persuasion, 
 are the likeliest of all human means for enticing the 
 thoughtless to think of religion as a very solemn 
 reality. 
 
 An instance of its triumphs -in this respect has 
 been kept on authentic record, which is so encourag- 
 ing in itself, and so corroborative of the opinion just 
 expressed, that we cannot refrain from giving it en- 
 tire.* Mr. Flavel being in London in 1673, his 
 old bookseller, Mr. Boulter, gave him this following 
 relation, namely, — " That some time before, there 
 came into his shop a sparkish gentleman, to inquire 
 for some play-books ; Mr. Boulter told him he had 
 none, but showed him Mr. Flavel's little Trea- 
 
 * We quote from a short Life of Flavel, prefixed to a folio 
 edition of his Works, printed at Glasgow in 1751. 
 A3 
 
tise oi Keeping the Heart" (' The Saint Indeed,') 
 " and entreated him to read it, assuring him it would 
 do him more good than play-books. The gentleman 
 read the title ; and glancing upon several pages here 
 and there, broke out into these and such other expres- 
 sions : — What a damnable fanatic was he that made 
 this book? — Mr. Boulter begged of him to buy and 
 read it ; and told him he had no cause to censure it 
 so bitterly: at last he bought it, but told him he 
 would not read it. What will ye do with it then ? 
 said Mr. Boulter. I will tear and burn it, said he, 
 and send it to the deviL Mr. Boulter told him, 
 then he should not have it. Upon this, the gentle- 
 man promised to read it ; and Mr. Boulter told him, 
 if he disliked it upon reading, he would return him 
 his money. About a month after, the gentleman 
 coming to the shop again, in a very modest habit and 
 serious countenance, bespeaks Mr. Boulter thus : — 
 Sir, I most heartily thank you for putting this book 
 into my hands ; I bless God that moved you to do 
 it ; it hath saved my soul : blessed be God that ever 
 I came into your shop. And then he bought a 
 hundred more of those books of him, told him he 
 would give them to the poor who could not buy them, 
 and so left him, praising and admiring the goodness 
 of God. Thus it pleased God to bless the sermons 
 and writings of Mr. Flavel." 
 
 ' The Touchstone of Sincerity' is not less in- 
 structive, but far more searching than ' The Saint 
 Indeed,' and forms a very appropriate sequel to the 
 impression which its precursor is fitted to produce. 
 Its leading subjects of consideration are three in 
 number, namely, — -that professors of religion in 
 
XI 
 
 general, are in very great danger of mistaking what 
 they are in the sight of God, — that the saving 
 grace of the Gospel is exceedingly precious, and 
 greatly enriches the soul which possesses it, — and 
 that no man's religion can be called genuine, unless 
 it is able, upon the whole, to surmount the trials to 
 which it is subjected in this world. To these three 
 considerations, which are matter of deep and solemn 
 interest to every professor of Christianity ; and in the 
 discussion of which, the prevailing evil of our own 
 times is but too faithfully delineated, the Author sub- 
 joins a series of tests by which the state of the heart, 
 in relation to religion, may be distinctly ascertained, 
 and which are the more useful, that in general they 
 are applicable not to rare emergencies in the course 
 of the Christian life, but to the ordinary circumstances 
 in which professors are placed. They are connected 
 with the Christian's carriage under prosperity, which 
 assails the heart in one direction, and under adver- 
 sity, which assails it in another — the treatment which 
 he gives to his indwelling corruption — the spirit by 
 which he is actuated in religious duties — and the 
 way in which his heart is affected when the claims of 
 religion come to compete with his dearest earthly 
 ties and tendencies. This is followed up by a detail, 
 at once judicious and consolatory, of the gracious 
 ends which God has in view in subjecting true reli- 
 gion to such severity of trial in this world — an enu- 
 meration of the reasons why that religion, which has 
 stood the test, is alone to be depended on in prospect 
 of the final decision — a practical digest of the whole 
 treatise — and a most important caveat against those 
 mistakes in judging of themselves, to which the peni- 
 
Xll 
 
 tent are liable on the one extreme, and the impeni- 
 tent on the other. The discerning reader will at 
 once perceive, that these are topics, if any such there 
 be in the whole range of Christian discussion, which 
 require the steadiness of a skilful hand to manage 
 them to purpose. He will perceive also, on perus- 
 ing the Treatise, if he has not perused it already, 
 that its Author knew the true medium between that 
 dry and heartless frigidity which scouts experience on 
 the one extreme, and that distempered sentimentality 
 which depraves it on the other. 
 
 If we are asked to specify the summary benefit 
 which the reader may fairly promise himself from the 
 religious use of this volume, we have no hesitation 
 in replying, that he is either a very obdurate, or a 
 very spiritual man, if it does not put him out of pa- 
 tience with his present amount of religious attain- 
 ment, and inspire him with a new and restless desire 
 for greater nearness to God in the habitual condition 
 of his mind, than he has ever yet experienced. This 
 we take to be its leading and characteristic tendency. 
 Nor is it merely fitted to produce this desire in a 
 mind in any measure seasoned for the subject ; but, 
 taking its Treatises together, it furnishes an invalu- 
 able series of means, warranted and sanctified by the 
 Word of God, for carrying the desire out to an abun- 
 dant gratification. Every thing, however, for a pro- 
 fitable perusal of the volume, depends on the reader's 
 estimate of the benefit we have specified. If near- 
 ness to God be trivial in his eyes, the volume will 
 also be trivial ; but if he judges this to be a precious 
 attainment, in exactly the same proportion will the 
 volume rise in his esteem. Now, for the sake of 
 
XIU 
 
 bringing him to an elevated estimate of this attain- 
 ment, and thus enabhng him to reap the benefit 
 which is here offered to his acceptance, we soUcit the 
 reader's wakeful attention to the few following con- 
 siderations : — 
 
 I. Nearness to God in the habitual condition of 
 your mind, will establish your confidence in godli- 
 ness as a reality. Although the term godliness, in 
 the Christian vocabulary, conveys a very distinct idea ; 
 and although the thing of which it is the name is 
 known to be a solemn and blessed reality, by every 
 genuine disciple of the cross — there is yet an ap- 
 proach to scepticism about it, not avowed, but latent 
 and practical, among many professors of Christianity. 
 And could we get them to speak out, they would 
 tell us, in plain language, that although they have 
 waited on God in the institutions of his grace, per- 
 haps for many years, they have never found these 
 institutions to be any thing better to them than wells 
 without water, or clouds without rain. The force 
 of custom, or the workings of a slavish conscience, 
 has kept them toiling on in the duties of religion ; 
 but they have felt no interest, no growing spirituality, 
 no decided religious enjoyment, and nothing but fear 
 prevents them from saying, " Why should we wait 
 for the Lord any longer ?" The tendency of the 
 whole process, so far as they are concerned, is to- 
 wards the dark and hideous void of atheism itself. 
 Nor do we wonder at this, for we know not of any 
 thing which is better fitted to destroy belief in the 
 existence of God, than perusing the record which 
 speaks of his love, and frequenting the services where 
 
XIV 
 
 he is said to be found, without ever finding him there. 
 This state of mind is exceedingly distressing to those 
 who have any ingenuous concern about their eternal 
 well-being; but it is also exceedingly dangerous, 
 and is often the forerunner of a final apostacy from 
 the very profession of the Gospel. The cause of it, 
 however, is easily assigned. The persons who an- 
 swer to the above description, never did observe a 
 Christian institution, during the whole course of their 
 hves, in the true spirit of that institution. It is the 
 letter which killeth, and not the spirit which giveth 
 life, with which alone they have had to do. Their 
 bodies may have been near to God in external ap- 
 pearance, or their lips in the utterance of devotional 
 sentiment, but their hearts were still at a moral dis- 
 tance ; and since godliness is exclusively a matter of 
 experience, they cannot testify to its truth or its ex- 
 cellence, because they have never so much as entered 
 the hallowed region where its influence is felt. 
 
 This is no gratuitous assertion, which they are 
 shut up to take at our word ; for if they look at the 
 character of God as described in his own revelation, 
 and consider the nature of that communion which 
 he must maintain with reasonable beings, when he 
 chooses to commune with them at all, they will see 
 it undeniable, that in all their intermeddiings with 
 religious things, they have been in a state of aliena- 
 tion from God ; that although he was " near in their 
 mouths," yet, by an inward moral repellency of which 
 they were conscious, and which was the matter of 
 their own choice, he was kept " far from their reins." 
 If this, then, be the cause of the evil, the cure is 
 easily pointed out. They must come near to God, 
 
^ XV 
 
 not merely in external Christian observance, or in- 
 tellectual intercourse with religious truth, but in that 
 sense which corresponds with his character, and with 
 the nature of that intercourse which it befits hira to 
 hold with creatures of his hand, situated as they are 
 situated, and under such a dispensation of his good- 
 ness as that which is addressed to them. Without 
 this there can be no approach unto God ; and where 
 there is no approach to him, there can be no means 
 of ascertaining whether he does or does not reward 
 his genuine worshippers with the tokens of his lov- 
 ing-kindness. To the question, what is it to draw 
 near to him in that way which befits his character 
 and our condition in relation to him ? the reply is 
 brief and obvious. It is not merely to admit the 
 evidence which points him out to our contemplation, 
 for bare admission is a negative thing, and leaves a 
 man morally as far away as it found him ; but it is 
 positively to believe in him in terms of his own ex- 
 plicit revelation. And to believe in him, is to have 
 our spirits lifted up to a moral harmony with his 
 Spirit — to look at him steadily in the attested truth 
 of his Being and Godhead — to behold him in his 
 manifestation of himself to us, as the God of our 
 salvation in Jesus Christ — to feel him actually deal- 
 ing with us as a father deals with his children, in 
 instruction or reproof, or more direct expressions of 
 his fatherly good-will, — and, as a result of all this, 
 to have our souls powerfully actuated to that filial 
 obedience, and those adoring exercises, which such a 
 disclosure of him is fitted to produce. 
 
 This is what it is to draw near to God; — and 
 leaving our Author to tell you, in his own happy 
 
XVI 
 
 way, in what this exercise originates, and how it is 
 maintained, we go on to remark, that the exercise 
 may he painful, or it may be pleasurable, as unerring 
 Wisdom directs, and your necessities require; it 
 may raise your heart to the ecstacies of love, or sink 
 it down to the depths of contrition, or exemplify a 
 very profitable mixture of both these extremes : but 
 whatever may be the case as to these things, it can- 
 not fail to produce a conviction, that godliness is no 
 phantasm, but a very solemn spiritual reality. In 
 other circumstances, you may have your doubts whe- 
 ther there be any thing in it or not ; but here it is 
 as impossible to doubt, as to question your own iden- 
 tity, for this is the demonstration of the Spirit — a 
 demonstration which originates in the nature of the 
 effect produced — a matter of impression rather than 
 of argument, and therefore not to be reasoned against 
 — the touch, in short, of the Divinity himself, tell- 
 ing that he is there, and directing reason to her 
 highest duty, the recognition of her God. This 
 demonstration withal, is not in every case dependent 
 on the consciousness of gracious acceptance with God, 
 in those who are the subjects of it, for godliness has 
 its terrors as well as its delights in the present state 
 of its progress to perfection ; and the man who fears 
 he is not accepted, may be just as sure as his hap- 
 pier fellow, that, whether accepted or not, he is in 
 the presence of God. Nor is the effect of this as- 
 surance confined to particular acts or seasons of fel- 
 lowship, but goes down into the futurities of the 
 man's existence, settling itself into principles, and 
 forming itself into habits, which constitute his char- 
 acter and govern his life. Nay, it is usually more 
 
xvii -m 
 
 impressive afterwards than in the meantime, so far 
 at least as practical benefit is concerned, just as our 
 estimate of an interesting conference with a friend or 
 fellow-creature, is best matured or rectified after the 
 excitement has subsided, and left us leisure for cool 
 reflection. It was after Jacob awaked from his vi- 
 sion, and had calmly reviewed it, that he said — 
 " Surely the Lord is in this place, and I knew it 
 not." 
 
 Thus it is that gracious intercourse with God, 
 whether amidst the delights of conscious acceptance, 
 or under the depressions of contrition and sorrow, is 
 not merely a means, but the only effective means of 
 dissipating all dubiety, and completely establishing 
 the great truth, that God does in very deed dwell 
 with man upon the earth. We must commune with 
 God, in order to be believers in godliness ; for this 
 is not a thing to be conjectured or argued from gen- 
 eral principles, or taken on the testimony of mortals, 
 it must be tasted in order to be felt in its formative 
 influence on human character. But if it be a reality 
 at all, it must be a reality of immense importance to 
 every child of fallen Adam — a reality standing out 
 in peerless pre-eminence above all his ordinary con- 
 cerns, demanding his earliest and gravest attention, 
 and attaching a very peculiar value to every thing 
 which tends to its elucidation. But important as it 
 is in itself, the interest with which we look at it is 
 fearfully augmented by the broad and unquestionable 
 fact, that it is forgotten, wantonly forgotten or de- 
 preciated, by immense multitudes, even at the risk 
 of " eternal destruction from the presence of the 
 Lord, and the glory of his power," Infidels and 
 
# 
 
 XVlll 
 
 formalists disown it, and just because they are infi- 
 dels and formalists they cannot do less than disown 
 it : for, 
 
 ' " Of God above, or man below, 
 
 What ca7i we reason, but from what we know ?" 
 
 But Christians also have their share in this delin- 
 quency ; and their share is the most culpable, because 
 they cannot plead the infidel's excuse. They have 
 had experience of communion with God, and know 
 it to be a reality ; but there is a law in their mem- 
 bers vvhich is opposed to godliness, and wars against 
 the law of their minds ; there is a law in this world 
 opposed to it, to which they pay a most unchristian 
 deference ; there is a law among themselves as mat- 
 ters stand at present, which enacts but a very low 
 degree of inward Christianity, as sufficient to main- 
 tain their respectability : and, in obedience to these 
 laws, they content themselves, as if by mutual con- 
 sent, with a distance from the glorious presence of 
 God in the prevailing habit of their minds, which 
 allows the haze of this lower region to intercept its 
 warming radiance, and leaves the plant of heaven 
 within them, like a rare and delicate exotic, to lan- 
 guish in a chilling temperature which grievously ob- 
 structs its growth. 
 
 This is no exaggerated statement, but a sober 
 image of the fact : and we ask you, ingenuous Chris- 
 tian reader, to decide on it for yourself. Is it, or is 
 it not a most desirable thing, to have such an evil 
 counteracted ? You know it is indeed exceedingly 
 desirable, and you see in yourself a reason why it is 
 so ; because, although it be the case that you are in 
 
XIX 
 
 no danger of doubting or denying the point in ques- 
 tion, you are aware it exerts not within you the effi- 
 cacy which it ought to exert. It dwells not in your 
 heart with the clearness, and constancy, and power, 
 which, in your holiest moments, you earnestly desire ; 
 and this you see to be the prevailing reason of your 
 daily short-comings in practical holiness. It is a 
 maxim with you, that nearness to God is nearness 
 to religious truth ; not in the mere perception of it, 
 but in its force, its divinity, its fulness of sanctifying 
 influence : while distance from God is distance from 
 religious truth, in all these points of view. Expe- 
 rience has taught you, that a doctrine of godliness 
 detached from God, and far away from him, is cold 
 and powerless as a distant star ; and although it may 
 be seen as the star is seen in the clear sky of a win- 
 ter's night, yet even when it is seen, and maintained, 
 and defended, the heart may be cold towards God, 
 and warm only towards sinful indulgence. This is 
 the case in thousands of instances, where a Christian 
 profession is zealous and noisy ; but where it is the 
 amount of the man's attainment, he is as destitute of 
 vital godliness as the confirmed infidel himself: for 
 this plain reason, that the doctrines of godliness, apart 
 from God, have no transitive vitality. They must 
 be seen, not in the abstract, but in God, by a mind 
 that is near to him, in order to produce their proper 
 effect. This is the very end for which these doc- 
 trines were given ; they are the index of the Divi- 
 nity to his fallen creatures, and to separate them 
 from him is to separate the index from the object to 
 which it points. The man who knows them aright, 
 beholds in them, "as in a glass, the glory of the Lord j 
 
XX 
 
 and is changed into the same image, from glory to 
 glory, by the Spirit of the Lord." 
 
 Here, then, is a powerful reason why you should 
 cultivate nearness to God, and prize the labours of 
 of that instructor who opens up to you the true phi- 
 losophy of this most interesting attainment. In pro- 
 portion as the attainment is yours, you know what 
 godliness really is ; you are proof against practical 
 scepticism about it ; you feel it to be a matter of 
 paramount importance ; you are moved by an irre- 
 pressible desire for drinking deeper into its mystery ; 
 and you are mercifully dehvered from those counter- 
 feits of it, which are the ruin of many a modern pro- 
 fessor. 
 
 II. The attainment in question will rectify your 
 estimate of all terrestrial things. By terrestrial things 
 we mean, not the pleasures of sin, or the gratification 
 which sinners feel in what is sinful in itself, but the 
 good things of providence, which are innocent in 
 themselves, and which God permits his people to 
 enjoy in common with others around them. These 
 good things are the gods of eartlily-yninded men, and 
 there is no wonder that they should adore them. But 
 there is, perhaps, no one error which is more common 
 even among Christians, than that of estimating these 
 things far above their real value. The evidences of 
 this are obvious, and meet us in many a different 
 form. Look for a moment at wealth. Has a Chris- 
 tian acquired it ? How readily does he plume him- 
 self on the acquisition ; and, merely on account of it, 
 look for deference, even in matters of opinion, from 
 those who trudge in the walks of poverty ! Has he 
 
XXI 
 
 not acquired, but got it in prospect, as the likely re- 
 ward of enterprise? To what tremendous hazard 
 does he expose, not his comfort merely, but his health, 
 or his conscience, or the eternal interests of himself 
 and his family, in order to secure it ! Has he ac- 
 quired it, and lost it again by some of the nameless 
 casualties to which treasure on earth is ever exposed ? 
 He is plunged at once into the deepest distress ; and 
 not even the power of religion, till aided by the lapse 
 of time, can restore him to peace of mind. In all this, 
 he is justified by the opinion which passes current 
 among the men of this world; for although the mind 
 and its moral treasure be the true criterion of human 
 worth, yet they will consider him to be a man of 
 weight, or a man of insignificance, according to the 
 quantity of the dust of the ground, in some one or 
 other of its modifications, which happens to cleave to 
 him as his property, or to remain at the disposal of his 
 will. But you have only to look at wealth and men- 
 tal acquirement, even in the general light of revela- 
 tion, in order to perceive at once that the former is 
 greatly over-rated ; and could not, in fact, have the 
 power either to elevate or depress a Christian, in the 
 manner above described, but for a most egregious 
 fallacy in the principle on which it is estimated. For 
 although this same wealth be a good thing — although 
 it possesses a real worth, inasmuch as it is the crea- 
 ture of God, and may be rendered very serviceable 
 to his cause in this world ; yet it is a thing of time, 
 and confined to time, while man is destined for eter- 
 nity. It has no natural or necessary connection with 
 his preparation for eternity ; it cannot yield him ade- 
 quate enjoyment even in this world, nor can it give 
 
XXll 
 
 him any security for the temporal comfort of his chil- 
 dren after him ; it is certainly connected, in short, 
 with no moral good, and is sure to be the occasion of 
 much moral injury, except to the man who is decid- 
 edly a Christian, and thus enabled to make a Chris- 
 tian use of it : and if this be a true account of it, 
 there cannot, in reality, be any thing about it which 
 entitles it to be the means of producing any one of the 
 states of mind to which we have adverted. Wealth, 
 however, is but one of the things to which we refer 
 in this particular ; although it is perhaps the most in- 
 snaring, not only to the Christian, but also to those 
 who are still in their sins. There is honour, there is 
 rea-eation, there is concern about bodily health, there 
 is merely intellectual endowment, there is the culti- 
 vation of taste, there is domestic and relative comfort, 
 with a nameless variety of other things, every one of 
 which is greatly overrated, even by those whose trea- 
 sure is in heaven. Objects of sense have a charm 
 about them, which is partly explicable, and partly not ; 
 but which often gives them a hold of our hearts, of 
 which we have scarcely any conception, till the hour 
 of trial puts us to the test. 
 
 If this error were generally harmless, or not seri- 
 ously detrimental, or if it were productive of a mixed 
 eifect, which is partly profitable and partly the reverse, 
 there would be little reason to deplore it. This, 
 however, is far from being its character. It is radi- 
 cally a bad thing, an unmixed and entire evil, as in- 
 jurious to the Christian life as it is prevalent among 
 Christian professors. If your estimate of the good 
 things of this life be just, that estimate does more 
 than simply keep them from doing you injury ; it has 
 
xxm 
 
 a positive tendency to promote your Christianity : but 
 if your estimate of them be unjust, if you err here 
 at all on the one side or on the other, the result is 
 certain retardation to your Christian prosperity. The 
 good creatures of God are to be religiously used: but 
 it is truth, and not error, in thinking of providence as 
 well as of revelation ; it is justness of conception, and 
 not mere fondness on the one extreme, or antipathy 
 on the other, which is the basis of piety. So far, 
 then, as your delight in any earthly good thing is ex- 
 cessive or inordinate, you are clearly guilty of trans- 
 ferring to the creature a portion of that regard which 
 is due to the Creator ; you approximate, in short, to 
 that state of mind which the Bible describes as wor- 
 shipping and serving the creature more than the Crea- 
 tor, who is blessed for ever. The slightest excess, 
 arising as it does from depraved affection, is incipient 
 idolatry. This is the conclusion to which we are in- 
 fallibly conducted ; and oh, it is your interest, as well 
 as your duty, to ponder it deeply ! for it holds true, 
 however good, or desirable, or tenderly attractive the 
 object of excess may be. It may not be a thing 
 which is positively sinful ; it may not be so coarse and 
 vulgar a good as the wealth or pleasures of this world. 
 It may be the wife of your bosom, and she a paragon 
 of Christian virtue — or the loveliest fruit of your body 
 —or the truest and most estimable of all your earthly 
 associates ; but if even to these your heart be turned 
 to excess, in exactly the same proportion is it drawn 
 away from God. This is the true nature of the error 
 in itself and its consequences ; it is just putting the 
 creature in the place of the Creator : and because it 
 consists not merely in making a god of that which is no 
 
XXIV 
 
 God; but in doing this speciously, by the deification 
 of a positive good, and without the absurdity of graven 
 imagery — it is of all other errors the most difficult of 
 cure. But if this be a fair account of the error ; if 
 it be subtile, and plausible, and diversified in its work- 
 ings ; if it has wrought itself into general prevalence 
 even among the people of God ; if every one of them, 
 in ordinary circumstances, is certainly infected with it 
 in one form or other ; if it cleaves to them like a bur- 
 den of earth, and lies oppressively heavy on the in- 
 ward springs of piety, in the closet, in the family, in 
 the assemblies of the saints, as well as in all the in- 
 tercourse of ordinary Christian life ; if it be more in- 
 veterate withal, than any other plague of the heart- 
 then surely the aggregate of its injurious effects must 
 be tremendous, and that must be a transcendent good 
 which tends to its removal. 
 
 This good is nearness to God, the Bible itself be- 
 ing witness. Asaph found it so, when about to sink 
 amidst the quicksands of sceptical surmising. He 
 saw the men who made a god of this world apparently 
 blessed with unbounded prosperity, as the fruit of 
 their irreligion ; but after examining their course of 
 life, and patiently tracing it to its end, he gave his 
 verdict concerning it in the following memorable 
 words: " Surely thou didst set them in slippery 
 places; thou castedst them down into destruction. 
 How are they brought into desolation as in a moment ! 
 they are utterly consumed with terrors. As a dream 
 when one awaketh ; so, O Lord, when thou awakest, 
 thou shalt despise their image." But where was 
 Asaph when he spake thus ? He was in the sanc- 
 tuary of his God ; that is to say, he was near to God 
 
XXV 
 
 in lioly and reverend intercourse with him. It was 
 there that the mystery of providence, which before 
 had staggered his confidence in God, was explained to 
 his satisfaction ; and it was there also that his difficul- 
 ties were removed, his errors rectified, and his soul de- 
 livered from all its perplexities. But as if to make sure 
 of this by a full and varied experiment, he adopted a 
 very different method before he was led to this one. 
 He, first of all, took up a position far away from 
 God^s sanctuary, and looked from thence at the wor- 
 shippers of mammon ; but what was the result ? — 
 Why, all around him was darkness and confusion, 
 his mind was unsettled in its firmest convictions, and 
 almost driven away into the madness of atheism. 
 He found no solution of the problem of providence, 
 no rest for the sole of his foot amidst the waters of 
 uncertainty, till he altered his course and came near 
 to his God, and then he found tranquillity because 
 he found truth. 
 
 But what was the truth which he found there? 
 It was not that the temporal prosperity of the wicked 
 was no temporal prosperity, or that they were poor, 
 despised, and friendless, while he supposed them to 
 be rich and respectable; for in reference to these 
 things he was in no error, and had no call to change 
 his opinions. But the truth which burst upon his 
 view, consisted in a rectified estimate of these men's 
 prosperity, or of the intrinsic or relative value of the 
 temporal good things which God permitted them to 
 enjoy. Formerly, these things were so high in his 
 esteem, that he considered the affluent possession of 
 them to be a sure index of divine approbation, and 
 was thus led to question the reality of God's un- 
 B 60 
 
XXVI 
 
 changing delight in those who fear him and work 
 righteousness. Now he saw that this was a capital 
 error, that God's estimate of temporal prosperity is 
 so different from man's, that he makes it no index of 
 his moral attributes, nor any sure token of his special 
 favour in the present state of things, but accounts it 
 a common thing, and gives it indiscriminately ^to the 
 righteous and the wicked, or often in judgment, makes 
 it a snare, in which the latter are caught to their de- 
 struction. This is the truth which he found in the 
 sanctuary — a truth, which revealed the degrading 
 sophistry of his former mode of reasoning, which 
 brought him to himself again, which effectually broke 
 the charm in which temptation had bound him, and 
 led him to say, with shame and contrition, "It is 
 good for me to draw near to God." 
 
 Now, his moral position in relation to God, or the 
 state and exercise of his mind, as breathing the air 
 of the heavenly sanctuary, were exceedingly favour- 
 able to this discovery. His soul was elevated to the 
 only standing, and pervaded by the only element 
 which can enable a human being, on this side the grave, 
 to judge correctly of things below. Much, it is ob- 
 vious, depends on position and accurate relative 
 knowledge, for estimating the magnitude of objects 
 on the surface of the earth. The boy who has been 
 born in an isolated hamlet, and has scarcely ever 
 crossed its precincts since the time of his birth, at- 
 taches to its form and outlay an interest and a greatness 
 which are exceedingly wide of the truth. But let 
 him be transported to the summit of a neighbouring 
 mountain, where a spacious country opens around 
 him, with its clustering fields, and towns, and villages, 
 
XXVll 
 
 and in an instant his views are rectified, his favourite 
 hamlet sinks before him into comparative insignifi- 
 cance, and he is lost in delightful amazement at the 
 cure of his former misconceptions. So is it with 
 the Christian who escapes from the contracting in- 
 fluence of this bewitching world, and ascends the 
 mountain of fellowship with God. His range of 
 vision is exceedingly widened, and the mists of pre- 
 judice are put to flight; he feels himself above the 
 world, and can afford to think of it with the indepen- 
 dence of a judge; the sublime of heaven expands 
 before him, and reveals below the littleness of earth ; 
 his mind is cured of its grovelling propensities, and 
 ceases to be bounded by that which is sordid; his moral 
 taste is enlightened and purified, and capable of ap- 
 preciating spiritual excellence : his native love of im- 
 mortality, in short, is awakened into new vigour, and 
 soars to that which is incorruptible. This may be 
 strange to the " carnally minded," but they who have 
 felt the power of religion, will readily recognize it as 
 a matter of experience. You may, perhaps, remem- 
 ber the time when some desirable earthly good 
 emerged to your view in glowing attraction, inviting 
 your instant pursuit, and promising to reward your 
 efforts with a large harvest of enjoyment. You were 
 caught in the snare of its plausible appearances, and 
 planned, and toiled, and struggled after it, till reli- 
 gion was lost to your view, like the eagle in the dis- 
 tant cloud. But a season of calm reflection arrived, 
 and placed you alone in the presence of God, with 
 the spiritual world, and its high concerns again dis- 
 closed to your view. And what a revolution did this 
 produce in your view of the good in question ? The 
 B 2 
 
XXVlll 
 
 spell which bound you down to earth was broken in 
 an instant ; you felt as if awakened from an abominable 
 dream ; and, like the storied wanderer, lured from his 
 path by the song of the fabled Siren, you hastened 
 to secure your retreat from the region of spiritual de- 
 struction. The cause of this delusion was distance 
 from God, and the deliverance from it was nearness 
 to him. But, alas ! how many dreamers are there 
 whom no season of reflection ever awakes. " They 
 know not, neither will they understand ; they walk 
 on in darkness ;" pursuing the fatuous inanities which 
 hover around this lower world, but never lifting a 
 steady eye to the region of eternal blessedness. 
 
 III. It will fortify your mind against the tempta- 
 tions of your great spiritual adversary. No one who 
 believes the Bible, or has any pretension to self- 
 knowledge, will venture to deny, that exposure to 
 temptation is the common lot of all Christians, so long 
 as they live in this world. Every one of them, whe- 
 ther high or low, enlightened or unenlightened, hid 
 in the seclusion of a solitary home, or busy on the 
 theatre of active life, is liable to its inroads in one 
 form or other. The present state of the church, or 
 of the Christian mind within the church, is the scene 
 where temptation has scope, and is prosecuted with 
 incessant activity. The present, indeed, is the 
 only scene where it can annoy the heir of immor- 
 tality, for into the land of uprightness it cannot enter ; 
 and here it is plied with the keenest persistance, 
 because here alone is its opportunity. The arch-de- 
 ceiver is Satan himself, the ancient and formidable 
 enemy of man, who conceals himself under false ap- 
 
XXIX 
 
 pearances, and employs a multitude of agents and in- 
 struments to aid his malicious designs. His modes of 
 working too, are exceedingly diversified — adapted 
 with deep and cruel sagacity to favourable times and 
 seasons, to constitutions and tempers, to local or re- 
 lative circumstances, and even to novel and discon- 
 certing incidents in the course of a Christian's life. 
 Not only does he work " with all deceivableness of 
 unrighteousness in them that perish," but he assails 
 the church of the living God — sometimes fomenting 
 evils which slowly affect her as a whole, but always 
 managing separate devices against every family and 
 individual who has been brought within her pale. 
 There are many professors of Christianity who seem 
 to be scarcely conscious that this destroyer exists ; 
 and although they are constrained to admit that reli- 
 gion is low in their hearts and characters, they give 
 themselves little concern, and have seldom any appre- 
 hension of his agency in the matter. Mere short- 
 coming in heart or conduct, and many acts of positive 
 transgression, they ascribe exclusively to human in- 
 firmity, and never think of Satanic influence, except 
 when something enormous occurs, which cannot be 
 easily traced to the ordinary working of evil propensity. 
 This, be assured, is a ruinous delusion, the deadliest 
 effect of the very cause which it so successfully keeps 
 in concealment. Could we analyze the phenomena 
 of morals as easily as an object of sense ; and trace 
 our ordinary sinful volitions, not merely to the heart, 
 but back to the subtle and secret agency which ac- 
 tually gave them existence there; we should see 
 that even the renovated man, who is not now of his 
 father the devil, but become a child of God, is snared 
 
XXX 
 
 into all his inconsistencies, more or less directly, by 
 the artifice of this relentless adversary. The artifice 
 too, as practised on him, is necessarily more refined 
 than in the case of the unrenewed, for he is possessed 
 of a spiritual discernment, which chooses the good 
 and rejects the evil, in conduct as well as enjoyment; 
 and this discernment must be stupified, or bewildered 
 by false appearances, before he can be led to the 
 comrhission of sin. It is these false appearances 
 which give the tempter all his power. To the chil- 
 dren of darkness he may freely show himself without 
 exciting any suspicion, for he is their father, the 
 " prince of darkness ;" and children are usually not 
 alarmed at seeing their father just as he is. But 
 when he approaches the children of light, he must be 
 transformed into an angel of light, or at least conceal 
 his real designs, to prevent them from instantly tak- 
 ing alarm, and preparing themselves for vigorous re- 
 sistance. Thus it is, in multitudes of instances, that 
 Christians live without fear, and think themselves 
 guided by their own discretion, or only tasting of 
 licensed indulgence, when, in fact, they are led by 
 his counsel, and made the victims of his devices. 
 
 We know that the inexperienced are slow to be- 
 lieve a doctrine like this, and may occasionally be 
 tempted to smile at the solicitude of others on their 
 account. But let them examine their own hearts, 
 and the ever-shifting phenomena around them — let 
 them look at the havoc which is often carried into a 
 single Christian congregation — in the destruction of 
 character, and purity, and peace ; and the production 
 of guilt, remorse, and shame, where appearances be- 
 fore were highly auspicious ; — let them, judging from 
 
XXXI 
 
 what they know of that which they do not know, en- 
 deavour to take a survey of the whole Christian com- 
 munity at any one time, and look at the miserable 
 wrecks of temptation, in the inconsistencies, feuds 
 and falls, which are ever occurring among the best of 
 men; with the agonies of guilt on the one hand, and 
 the; holy heart-breakings of wounded godliness on the 
 other; and they will see a power in this engine of 
 evil, sufficient to agitate the firmest among them. It 
 was this which troubled the mind of an apostle, and 
 imbittered the pure celestial joy with which he con- 
 templated the church at Corinth : " I am jealous 
 over you with a godly jealousy, lest by any means, as 
 the serpent beguiled Eve through his subtlety, so 
 your minds should be corrupted from the simplicity 
 which is in Christ." Nor was the danger peculiar 
 to Corinth, but general among the churches, for he 
 addresses the churches every where on the same sub- 
 ject; and to none of them does he speak of it in 
 stronger language than to the saints at Ephesus, even 
 at the time of their high prosperity : " Put on the 
 whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand 
 against the wiles of the devil. For we wrestle not 
 against flesh and blood, but against principalities, 
 against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of 
 this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places." 
 Such is the mind of an apostle on this most in- 
 teresting subject; and no one can question, that pro- 
 tection from the power of so awful an adversary, so 
 far as that is possible in the present state of imper- 
 fection, is a most desirable Christian attainment. 
 But it is scarcely necessary to say, that your only 
 way to this attainment, is a deeply wrought and 
 
xxxu 
 
 steady habit of nearness to God in the frame of your 
 mind. It is not any thing without you, either in 
 the power or pohcy of Satan, or in the attractions of 
 forbidden pleasure, but what is within you, or the 
 state of your heart, which constitutes your chief ex- 
 posure to danger. "The prince of this world cometh 
 and hath nothing in me," was the saying of your 
 Saviour on the scene of temptation, and this was one 
 of the grand preservatives which made him invincible 
 to Satan's assaults. These words, however, you 
 cannot appropriate, for your state of mind disowns 
 their import. The tempter finds in you much that 
 is his own ; and because it is his own it claims rela- 
 tion to him, and is ever ready to yield him access to 
 your hearts and your springs of action. But if it 
 be true, in reference to the body, that your best 
 means of protection from any one physical influence, 
 is to arm yourselves with its opposite — it is equally 
 true, in reference to the mind, and in this particular 
 instance, that your best means of protection from the 
 influence of Satan, is to put on the armour of emi- 
 nent piety. Of all beings in the moral universe, 
 none are so decidedly opposites, as " the high and 
 lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose" very 
 " name is holy," and the prince of the fallen spirits : 
 and the man who is morally nearest to the one, is at 
 the greatest possible distance from the other. This 
 is a matter of easy perception. God is not only the 
 opposite of Satan, but infinitely above him in power 
 and dominion ; and to cleave to God in habits of 
 piety, is just the way to be hid in his pavilion, and 
 under the shield of his high protection. Nearness 
 to him does not consist in any thing like local posi- 
 
XXXIU 
 
 tion, but in an eminent moral resemblance to him, 
 which detaches the mind from minor interests, and 
 prompts it to holy intercourse with him in matters 
 which are purely spiritual. Its very essence is vigor- 
 ous activity, and not the quiescence of mere condi- 
 tion ; but it is an activity which assimilates the soul 
 to that about which it is occupied, and thus it sup- 
 presses the sin of the heart, and fortifies the man 
 against evil suggestions. He cannot listen to the 
 tempter, because his mind is pre-engaged ; and he will 
 not although he could, because his affections are spi- 
 ritualized. 
 
 Nor is this all. The man who is exalted to affi- 
 nity with God, and divells in the exercise of pre- 
 eminent piety, has fixed his residence in the very 
 region, and lives in the very element, which sickens 
 and paralyzes the tempter, and most effectually deters 
 his approach ; the dragon of the deep cannot come 
 out of the waters to spread his devastations over the 
 dwellings of men ; and no more can the dragon of 
 hell make his way into the region where the souls of 
 Christians are fully occupied in acts of communion 
 with their God. He may haunt the boundaries of 
 that region in sullen and mortified malignity; his 
 fiery darts may fly around it, or his insidious emis- 
 saries infest its precincts ; but within these precincts 
 Christians are safe, and neither his rage nor his policy 
 can hurt them, unless they shall foolishly forego their 
 privilege, and put themselves in his power. Chris- 
 tians, in short, have advantages here, if they knew but 
 how to improve them, which are higher than Adam's in 
 primitive purity. The continuance of his communion 
 with God was left to depend on mere humanity, which 
 b3 
 
XXXIV 
 
 proved itself frail even when innocent ; but the conti- 
 nuance of theirs is on a different footing, and infinitely 
 better provided for. It is not with God, in his abso- 
 lute character, but with God in Christ, who is the Son 
 of God in our nature, the anciently predicted seed of 
 the woman, who has come and bruised the head of 
 the serpent, laid him prostrate at his feet in irretriev- 
 able overthrow, and destroyed the very seat of his 
 venomous malignity. Thus is Satan rendered feeble 
 to the man who lives with God in Christ : but he is 
 intimidated as well as enfeebled ; for, if even in the 
 little affairs of men the vanquished quakes and cowers 
 into submission before the majesty of his royal victor, 
 inconceivably greater is the terror and awe inspired 
 into Satan by the Prince of Life, who has penetrated 
 the deepest of his deadly machinations, and made a 
 show of them openly, triumphing over them on his 
 cross. But Christ has done more than vanquished 
 Satan — he has wrought out a reconciliation which re- 
 moves the enmity of your heart to God, and inspires 
 you with a spirit of adoption which enables you to 
 see in him a Father's authority, and confide in the 
 protection of a Father's love. The paternal relation, 
 as every one knows, is one of the surest safeguards 
 of morals which can be named in social life. A son 
 of mischief will seldom dare to come into the pre- 
 sence of a father, and entice his child to disobedience 
 before his very eyes. He knows his audacity would 
 be instantly met with a burst of righteous indigna- 
 tion, and his impious visage frowned away to hide 
 itself in infamy. But if the authority of a father, 
 even among men, be so firm a bulwark against temp- 
 tation — -if almost all the social virtue which yet lingers 
 
XXXV 
 
 among unsanctified men, may fairly be traced to its 
 wisdom and vigilance, how great must be the security 
 of that man who is reconciled to the Father of being, 
 and abides in his presence, looking up to him as the 
 God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, and his 
 own Father in him ! There it is, and there alone, 
 that this protective appellation is felt in all its majesty ; 
 and it is as impossible for him who bears it to cause 
 it to be dishonoured, as to give his glory to a crea- 
 ture, or his praise to graven images. But if he can- 
 not cause it to be dishonoured — if he be as incapable 
 of doing it indignity as of ceasing to be God over all ; 
 it is absolutely certain, that they who claim him as 
 their Father in Christ, and live up to the import of 
 this relation, have all the protection from Satan's 
 temptations which the power of the Godhead can 
 command. 
 
 Nor is this the doctrine of mere theory, but of 
 well-attested fact. In comparing your own varieties 
 of exercise, you know that sin is most odious to you 
 when your heart is nearest to God, and that your hatred 
 of it is always diminished when your heart recedes from 
 God, and sinks into inordinate concern about matters 
 of temporary interest. In the one case, you can 
 almost defy temptation ; in the other, it finds you an 
 easy prey, dislodged from your spiritual stronghold, 
 and predisposed to forbidden indulgence. It is the 
 essence of wisdom then, never to forget, as do many, 
 to their sad undoing, that it is not mere relation to 
 God as your Father anew in Jesus Christ, but the 
 suitable improvement of that relation, or drawing on 
 it to the full amount of your ever-recurring necessi- 
 ties, which keeps you safe from the spiritual destroyer. 
 
XXXVl 
 
 But the grand means of improving this relation is 
 faith in your Father's testimony. It is the steady 
 and vigorous exercise of faith which reaUzes the re- 
 lation to your conscience, fills your heart with filial 
 love, stirs you up to holy aspiring, and thus keeps 
 you in your Father's presence ; and in proportion as 
 this grace is weak, confused, or intermittent, your im-p 
 pression of his presence is effaced, and your heart in- 
 vaded with alien propensities. " Take heed, breth- 
 ren," said an apostle to a people entangled in this 
 very snare, " lest there be in any of you an evil Pieart 
 of unbelief in departing from the living God;" plainly 
 telling them, that unbelief is equal to distance from 
 God, while faith consists in being near to him ; that 
 the heart which is under the influence of unbelief is 
 led astray by depraved affections, while the heart 
 which is under the influence of faith is purified and 
 preserved ; and that the only way to avoid the former, 
 and retain the latter, of these contrasted states of 
 mind, is to cultivate a steady rehance on " the word 
 of the truth of the gospel." 
 
 IV. It will promote your general Christian use- 
 fulness. There is a selfishness connected with the 
 depraved condition of our nature, which maintains 
 itself in fearful ascendency in defiance of all our 
 breeding or refinement, and just because it is the de- 
 formity of all, it is very seldom seen by any in any 
 thing like its real enormity ; Christianity is the foe 
 of this monster, and will as certainly overthrow it as 
 did David the champion of Gath. But however 
 certain this may be, it is no less so, that even Chris- 
 tians in this world are greatly under the influence of 
 
XXXVll 
 
 selfishness, and often led by it into feelings and prac- 
 tices which the spirit of their religion decidedly dis- 
 owns. Not only do they imitate the world in its 
 selfish policy about worldly things, but they carry 
 that policy into religion, and excuse themselves from 
 taking interest in the spiritual concerns of others, 
 because, as they argue, they have their hands full at 
 home. This mode of arguing is utterly fallacious, 
 even on the principles of enlightened self-love. Men 
 are associated by him who created them without be- 
 ing consulted about the matter, and scarcely one of 
 them has ever been found so completely soured into 
 a passion for solitude, as not to give abundant evi- 
 dence, that, after all, his nature is social. The proudest 
 among us was dependent on others long before he 
 could depend on himself, and thus made to share in 
 a kindness which his nature, unsophisticated, impels 
 him to reciprocate. But if, in point of fact, our con- 
 dition be social, and if our nature be formed to that 
 condition, the true way to gratify our love of our- 
 selves, is to cherish the sympathies, and perform the 
 duties, which our social circumstances require. 
 
 This is the way of consulting their interest which 
 was originally prescribed to our race ; and Christian- 
 ity founds on it her proffers and her claims, restoring 
 her subjects to purity and benevolence, and teaching 
 them to do themselves good, by labours of love for 
 one another. We say not that all a Christian's 
 activities should terminate directly in good to his 
 neighbour — or that they should all terminate indi- 
 rectly in glory to God, through this one medium ; for 
 a Christian is as really an individual, as he is a part 
 of an associated whole. Nay, the first of these views 
 
XXXVlll 
 
 of him being primary in itself, is entitled to the pre- 
 cedence, and the man who neglects what is due to 
 himself, is thereby unfitted for duty to his neigh- 
 bour. But we say, that the duties which he owes to 
 his neighbour should bind his conscience as firmly as 
 those which he owes to himself, and that steady at- 
 tention to the former class of duties within their pro- 
 per limits, and so far as they are made known to him, 
 is indispensable to the prosperity of his personal re- 
 ligion. No man can expect to prosper who lives in 
 open violation of Heaven's promulgated law, or in 
 stinted and niggardly obedience to that law. In such 
 circumstances his soul must be hampered, and the 
 functions of spiritual life oppressed by a course of 
 unnatural resistance to that which is ordained for 
 their health and enlargement ; and thus it is that re- 
 ligious selfishness, more speedily than most other sins, 
 becomes its own punishment, and defeats its own end. 
 These things lay a deep foundation for the doc- 
 trine of general Christian usefulness, as the forma- 
 tive principle of human society, and largely enforced 
 in the Christian record. The Christian who lays 
 himself out to be useful, promotes his own interests ; 
 while the Christian who does not, is cruel to himself 
 And, if he look at the circumstances in which he is 
 placed in social and relative life, he cannot fail to per- 
 ceive, that a large portion of attainable good, for rela- 
 tives and neighbours with whom he is connected, must 
 remain unattained, unless he, and such as he, shall 
 give themselves to the doing of it. Every Christian 
 has his circle of good-doing, which is narrow or ex- 
 tensive as the wise Disposer of all things has chosen 
 to make it so ; and which must remain an empty circle, 
 
XXXIX 
 
 to the disgrace of his profession, and to the injury of 
 immortal souls, unless he shall fill it up. Christians 
 in the aggregate are thus situated ; and, by the won- 
 derful arrangements of a gracious Providence, there is 
 not so much as one of them, weak or strong, rich or 
 poor, conspicuous or obscure, who is left unappropri- 
 ated in the general plan. They see ignorance pre- 
 vailing, and doing its work of eternal destruction, in 
 circumstances of seclusion and timorous avoidance, 
 which cannot possibly be reached by official Chris- 
 tian instructors ; and this ignorance must prevail, un- 
 til the hell of darkness here is succeeded by the hell 
 of torment hereafter, unless they are stirred up to let 
 in the light upon it. They see depravity prevailing, 
 which is the more inveterate perhaps for their past 
 neglect of it, and which draws out its victim to wan- 
 der in a wilderness of moral barbarity and wild in- 
 dulgence, from which he can never be reclaimed if 
 they refuse to go after him. They see sorrow pre- 
 vaihng in almost all its nameless forms, procured by 
 deeds of wilful folly, or sent, in awful sovereignty, 
 by him who governs the destinies of men ; and they 
 know that its subjects must pine in solitude, or be 
 tantalized by miserable comforters, unless they are 
 intercepted by the sympathies of their assiduous 
 Christian love. They see good as well as evil on 
 the chequered field of human character, in the con- 
 tinuance, if not extension of associated piety with its 
 kindred graces of holiness and love ; and while they 
 freely partake in the good which is thus disclosed to 
 them, they ought to feel themselves sacredly bound 
 to contribute to its augmentation. 
 
 If they look abroad on the scene around them, 
 
xl 
 
 they see a world lying in wickedness, with the cry of 
 its misery reaching to heaven, and the means of its 
 rescue placed in their hands; and deep indeed is 
 their infatuation, if they do not feel themselves loudly 
 called upon, by all that is tender in human sympa- 
 thy, and all that is generous in Christian love, to 
 unite for its deliverance. The Christian, in short, 
 is the offspring of love, as a new creature in Christ 
 Jesus ; and that he may be a reflecter of love, in all 
 its different modifications, to the good and to the bad, 
 is one of the chief reasons why he is made to stand 
 related to the human and Christian brotherhood. 
 But the end of love is action, and action tending to 
 usefulness, according to the present conditions of 
 things. He must therefore do it justice by showing 
 it in all its forms — in its charities in judging of 
 others, that they may see him to be well disposed— 
 in its benevolence in appreciating their excellence, 
 that they may see him to be positively kind — in its 
 patience in bearing with their infirmities, that thiey 
 may see him to be considerate — in its readiness to 
 forgive their offences, that they may see him to be 
 not implacable — in its perseverance in friendly of- 
 fices, that they may be won over to love in return. 
 These are the ways in which love is fruitful of all 
 the virtues which adorn society, and to this extent 
 the Christian must carry it, or else come short of its 
 practical aim. He is not merely to be just, but to 
 magnify the principle of justice, till it swell out into 
 generosity — not merely to take care of himself, but 
 to look upon all that is human as a part of him- 
 self — not to sigh merely, or to weep, or to shudder 
 at the sight of human misery, but to cultivate the 
 
xli 
 
 firmness of a man, and to lay out his Christian re- 
 sources for alleviating that misery. He is to " walk 
 in love, as Christ also hath loved us, and gave him- 
 self for us, an offering and a sacrifice unto God of a 
 sweet-smelling savour." 
 
 Such is a sketch of the course of usefulness to 
 which every one ought to devote himself who bears 
 the name of Jesus Christ, and there never was a time 
 when vigorous effort in all the points referred to 
 was more clearly seen to be duty, or more imperi- 
 ously called for, than at this very day. Christians 
 are at all times *' the salt of the earth," and wher- 
 ever moral putridity appears, they should be ready 
 to put forth their restoring or preserving influence. 
 But the spirit of good-doing in our times is awak- 
 ened from a sleep of ages, it stirs and is blessed in 
 almost every field of labour which a sanctified inge- 
 nuity has discovered or appropriated, and the man 
 who continues unexcited by all that is seen and heard 
 around him, incurs a responsibility which is new and 
 tremendous. Still it is often a hard matter, even 
 for the Christian, to rise above selfish principles of 
 action, and give himself freely up to the impulse of 
 those which are generous and social ; and it is yet a 
 harder matter, to maintain himself on so rare an 
 eminence after he has reached it. His indolence is 
 against this ; his habits are against it ; his mistaken 
 notions of duty are against it ; his sense of injury 
 from others, or suspicion of their selfish intentions, 
 are powerfully opposed to it; all that remains of 
 depravity within him is its most inveterate enemy, 
 and when we add to this, the force of an opposing 
 example, which is all but universal, we see a phalanx 
 
xlii 
 
 of resistance which seems to render the attainment 
 hopeless. 
 
 There is one way, and only one, in which the 
 Christian can succeed in this important branch of 
 duty ; and that is, by aspiring to eminence in piety 
 — not however in that distempered piety, which, al- 
 though sincere, is mis-tutored and confined to a nar- 
 row compass, by the influence of local prejudice, or 
 the zeal of religious party, or unhappy bodily tem- 
 perament, or scanty and ill-assorted religious infor- 
 mation ; but in that health-giving kind of godliness, 
 which takes its light, as well as its fire, from the ex- 
 pansive spirit of Christianity, as transfused through 
 her own record ; which is fed by views that are free 
 and comprehensive, as well as just and rigidly thought; 
 which looks at God in the true sublime of his mingled 
 righteousness and love to man, and which forms the 
 image of that which it beholds on the heart and 
 character of its subjects. This modification of piety 
 being the essence of obedience to the first table of 
 the law, must necessarily prepare the mind for the 
 duties of the second ; and it is only in proportion as 
 piety is felt in its true spirit and liberalizing influ- 
 ence, that the good of man as a Christian duty can 
 be properly attended to. We may take it as a 
 maxim which circumstances may modify, but cannot 
 overthrow, that the man who is eminent for enlight- 
 ened piety is also eminent for brotherly love; while 
 the man who is defective in enlightened piety, is also 
 defective in love to his brother in the Christian sense 
 of that expression. The reason of this is easily seen. 
 It was departing from God at first which taught man 
 to depart from his brother, and returning to God 
 
xliii 
 
 in Jesus Christ, is the only efficient instructor in the 
 duty of brotherly love. Never could malice and 
 social discord have invaded the primitive unity of" our 
 nature, but for the previous invasion of sin ; and never 
 can unity be wholly restored, till sin has been wholly 
 exterminated. But sin, in the primary notion of it, 
 strikes directly against God, and its injury to society 
 is the consequence of this. It is opposition to his 
 law ; but his law, in precept to man, is a transcript 
 from his nature, and therefore sin is opposition to his 
 nature as the only living and true God. The pro- 
 per expletive of sin then is ungodliness, or a practi- 
 cal denial of the Godhead as portrayed in his own 
 law ; but if this be a true account of its nature, then 
 do we see that the opposite of its nature, or the 
 grand means of its utter undoing, is the getting of a 
 heart for practical piety. Look not first or exclu- 
 sively at the creature, for if you do, you cannot love 
 him ; but look up to God as reconciled in Christ, 
 and then your eye can descend on the creature re- 
 flecting the benignity which it caught in heaven. 
 
 If this point be clear in the abstraction of princi- 
 ple, it is yet more clear when considered in practice. 
 There is, indeed, a human attachment which the 
 undevout may bear to each other, and which, because 
 it is human, or inheres in beings possessed of reason, 
 may show itself superior to animal instinct; but as 
 water cannot rise above its fountain, so neither can 
 this inferior element come up to the dignity of moral 
 usefulness. There is also a course of beneficent ac- 
 tivity, which may sometimes be usefully pursued, 
 (especially where piety is not expected,) by the man 
 who has little religion, or, perhaps, none at all. But 
 
xliv 
 
 this, although good in its form, and somewhat bene- 
 ficial in its efFects, is defective or vitiated in the mo- 
 tive from which it springs, and can never assume the 
 freshness and vigour which are necessary to renovate 
 society, by giving to character its full effect. In- 
 stances in point will occur in multitudes to all who 
 are conversant with ordinary life. Has a man reli- 
 gious knowledge to impart ? That knowledge may 
 be accurate and industriously communicated, but it 
 is not likely to fasten on the consciences of the ig- 
 norant, unless it be imbued with the unction of piety. 
 Has he maxims of spiritual wisdom to inculcate? 
 These maxims may be sound and judicious, but if 
 he be known to be careless in putting them in prac- 
 tice, his lessons will be treated with contempt and 
 derision. In short, if he has a family to educate, 
 or operatives to superintend, or a flowing cup of 
 prosperity to carry, or a heavy burden of affliction to 
 bear, or is placed in circumstances special or common, 
 which were obviously arranged by the God of provi- 
 dence, in order to give to piety its proper effect on 
 himself and on others, while yet he allows himself 
 in grievous shortcomings, he mars the usefulness of 
 his own character, and stands forth a visible obstruc- 
 tion to Heaven's saving beneficence. This is the case 
 in fact, and it must be so in the nature of things ; 
 for as piety is the characteristic of man by the great 
 primary law of his being, which no disaster can ever 
 undo, he is erect and useful, or prostrate and in 
 ruins, according as it is or is not his reigning princi- 
 ple of action. 
 
 Is it so, then, that piety, or nearness to God, not 
 in fits of excited feeling, but in the cool habit or 
 
xlv 
 
 condition of your mind, will establish your confidence 
 in godliness as a reality, and rectify your estimate of 
 all terrestrial things, and fortify your mind against 
 the temptations of your great spiritual adversary, 
 and promote your general Christian usefulness? — 
 Is it so, that these things enter into the essence of 
 practical Christianity, ineffably enrich your own heart, 
 and give your character its full weight of influence 
 over others ? — Is it so, that the average of godliness, 
 even among those who possess it in reality, is greatly 
 below what it ought to be, and that the general ele- 
 vation of it would tend at once to renovate the church, 
 and exceedingly to promote the conversion of the 
 world? — Then, surely, this is a matter on which 
 your heart should be solemnly set. The book which 
 we now leave in your hand is eminently fitted for 
 elevating piety. Let your intention in reading, 
 however, coincide with the Author's intention in 
 writing. If you take it up without an aim, it is 
 every thing but certain you will lay it down without 
 advantage. But if you open it in the spirit of meek- 
 ness, and yield yourself up to its hallowed guidance, 
 as a word in season to you, and to many thousands 
 similarly situated, you cannot fail to find in it a very 
 powerful stimulus to all that is Christian within you. 
 
 D. Y. 
 
 Perth, June^ 1830. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 THE SAINT INDEED. 
 
 Page 
 THE SAINT INDEED, 59 
 
 THE TOUCHSTONE OF SINCERITY. 
 CHAP. I — The text opened, and the doctrines propounded, 221 
 
 CHAP. II Doctrine I Many professors of Religion 
 
 are under very great and dangerous Mistakes in their pro- 
 fession, 227 
 
 CHAP. Ill — DocTEiNE II True grace is exceedingly 
 
 precious, and greatly enriches the soul which has it. It 
 
 is Christ's gold, 24<6 
 
 CHAP. IV Doctrine III That only is to be accounted 
 
 true grace, which is able to endure all the trials appointed 
 
 or permitted for the discovery of it, ... 258 
 
 CHAP. V. — The trial which adversity makes of the since- 
 rity or unsoundness of our hearts, . . . .271 
 
 CHAP. VI — Showing, that indwelling sin is to grace, what 
 fire is to gold ; and that the soundness and unsoundness 
 of our hearts are discovered by it, . . . . 284- 
 
xlviii CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 CHAP. VII. — The proof, or trial, that is made of the 
 
 soundness of our graces by the duties of religion which 
 
 we perform, 309 
 
 CHAP. VIII. — On the trial of sincerity and hypocrisy by 
 sufferings on account of religion, . . , . 322 
 
 CHAP. IX. — The designs and ends of God in bringing the 
 professors of religion into such various trials of their graces 
 in this world, 332 
 
 CHAP. X. — Showing that that grace only is to be reckoned 
 sincere and real, which can endure those trials which God 
 appoints or permits for the discovery of it, . . 339 
 
 CHAP. XI Various practical instructive Inferences, with 
 
 a serious Exhortation to Self-trial and thorough Examina- 
 tion, 34« 
 
 CHAP. XII. — Various helps for the clearing of Sincerity, 
 and discovery of Hypocrisy, 360 
 
THE 
 
 EPISTLE DEDICATORY 
 
 To my dearly Beloved and longed for, the fiock ofJesufi 
 Christ in Dartmouth, over whom the Holy Ghost hath 
 made me an Overseer, sound Judgment, true Zeal, and 
 unstained Purity are heartily wished, 
 
 MY DEAR FRIENDS, 
 
 There are three sad sights with which our eyes 
 should continually affect our hearts. The first is, 
 To behold, in every place, so many profane and dis- 
 solute persons who bear the very image of Satan ; 
 the face of whose conversation plainly discovers what 
 they are, and whither they are going ; — these look 
 like themselves, the children of wrath. The second 
 is. To see so many cursed hypocrites artificially dis- 
 guising themselves, and with marvellous dexterity 
 acting the part of saints, so that even a judicious eye 
 may sometimes mistake the similar workings of the 
 Spirit on them, for his saving workings on others. 
 To hear such a person conferring, praying, bewailing 
 his corruptions, and talking of his experiences, would 
 easily persuade a man to believe, that he hath the 
 heart as well as the face of a sincere Christian. For, 
 Sic oculos, sic ille majius, sic ora ferehat. So the 
 people of God do speak, so they pray, and even so 
 they open their conditions ; — -these look like saints, 
 C 60 
 
50 
 
 but are none. The third is, To see so many real 
 saints in whom the Spirit of truth is, who yet, through 
 the impetuous workings of their corruptions, and ne- 
 glecting to watch over their hearts, do often fall into 
 such scandalous practices, that they look like hypo- 
 crites, though they are not so. 
 
 These are three sad sights indeed ; and " O that 
 my head were waters, and mine eyes fountains of 
 tears, that I might weep abundantly over them all !" 
 
 For the first I would mourn heartily, considering 
 that they (so continuing) must be damned eternally, 
 2 Thess. i. 8, 9. 1 Cor. vi. 9. 
 
 For the second I would both weep and tremble, 
 considering that they (so abiding) must be damned 
 doubly, Matt. xxiv. 51. 
 
 And for the third, no less than any of the rest, 
 because, though they themselves may and shall be 
 saved, yet their examples make fast the bonds of 
 death upon both the former. Matt, xviii. 7. 2 Sam. 
 xii. 13, 14. 
 
 Alas ! that ever they should shed the blood of 
 other souls, for whom Christ shed his own blood ! 
 that ever they should be cruel to others, who have 
 found Christ so kind to them ! I know they dare 
 not do it directly and intentionally, but so it proves 
 occasionally and eventually. Suffer me here to di- 
 gress a little, and expostulate with these prejudiced 
 and hardened souls, I will presently return to you 
 again. O why do you injure your own souls by 
 other men's examples ? Because they stumble and 
 break their shins, will you fall and break your necks? 
 I desire all such as harden themselves by these things, 
 and take up a good opinion of their own deplorable 
 
51 
 
 condition, would soberly consider and answer these 
 three queries. 
 
 Quer, 1. Doth religion any way countenance or 
 patronise the sinful practices of its professors ; or doth 
 it not rather impartially and severely condemn them ? 
 It is the glory of the Christian religion that it is 
 " pure and undefiled," no doctrine so holy, nor doth 
 any man make more provision for a holy hfe. Tit. ii. 
 11, 12. Indeed, there is a case wherein we may 
 charge the evil practices of men upon their princi- 
 ples; but that is when their practices naturally flow 
 from, and necessarily follow their principles. As, 
 for example, if I see a Papist sin boldly, I may charge 
 it upon his principles; for they set pardons to sale, 
 and so make way for loose conduct. If I see an 
 Arminian slight the grace of God, and proudly ad- 
 vance himself, I may charge it upon his principles, 
 which directly lead to it : but can I do so, where such 
 practices are condemned and provided against, by 
 their own avowed principles who commit them ? 
 
 Qiier, 2. Is it not a most irrational thing to attack 
 religion, because of the scandalous ways of some, 
 whilst, in the meantime, you wholly slight and overlook 
 the holy and heavenly conversation of many others ? 
 Are all that profess godliness loose and careless in 
 their hves ? No : some are an ornament to their 
 profession, and the glory of Christ. And why must 
 the innocent be condemned with the guilty ? Why 
 the eleven for one Judas ? 
 
 Quer. 3. If you condemn religion because of 
 
 the scandalous lives of some that profess it, must you 
 
 not then cast off" all religion in the world, and turn 
 
 downright atheists ? Surely this is the consequence 
 
 c 2 
 
5^ 
 
 of it : for what religion is there, but some that pro- 
 fess it walk contrary to their profession ? and then, 
 as Constantine told the Novatian, you must set up 
 your ladder, and go to heaven by yourself. 
 
 But, alas ! it is not our printed apologies for reli- 
 gion, but the visible reformations of its professors, 
 that must both preserve its honour, and remove those 
 fatal stumbling-blocks, at which the blind world 
 strikes and falls into eternal perdition. 
 
 Now, there are two ways by which this may be 
 effected. First, By convincing the consciences of 
 professors of their miscarriages, and the evil aggra- 
 vations of them. Secondly, By medicating the heart, 
 and cleansing the fountain whence they proceed. 
 In the first of these, a worthy and eminent servant 
 of Christ hath lately laboured, holding a clear gospel 
 <^j-lass before the faces of professors, which truly repre- 
 sents their spots and blemishes. If he that reads it 
 will consider, apply, and practise, it shall doubtless 
 turn to his salvation ; but if it turn to no good account 
 to him that reads it, I know it shall turn to a tes- 
 timony for him that wrote it. The second is a prin- 
 cipal design of this small treatise, the subject of whch 
 is exceeding weighty, and of daily use to the people 
 of God, though the manner of handling it be at- 
 tended with many defects and weaknesses : every one 
 cannot be excellent who yet may be useful. 
 
 I will exercise your patience no longer than whilst 
 I tell you, 
 
 First, Why I pubhsh it to the view of the world. 
 
 Second, Why I direct it particularly to you. 
 
 First, for the publication of it, take this sincere 
 and brief account — that as I was led to this subject by 
 
53 
 
 a special providence, so I was led to the publication of 
 it by a kind of necessity. The providence at first lead- 
 ing me to it was this ; — A dear and choice friend of ray 
 intimate acquaintance being under much inward trou- 
 ble on account of some special heart disorder, opened 
 the case to me, and earnestly requested some rules 
 and helps in that particular. Whilst I was bending 
 my thoughts to that special case, divers other cases 
 of equal importance (some of which were dependent 
 upon that consideration) occurred to my thoughts; 
 and this scripture, which I have insisted upon, pre- 
 sented itself as a fit foundation for the whole dis- 
 course ; which, being lengthened out to what you see, 
 various friends requested me to transcribe for their 
 use several of the cases here handled, and some 
 others begged me to publish the whole, to which I 
 was in a manner necessitated, to save the pains of 
 transcribing, which, to me, is a very tedious and 
 tiresome work : and just as I had almost finished the 
 copy, an opportunity presented to make it public. 
 So that, from first to last, I have been carried be- 
 yond my first intentions in this thing. 
 
 Objection, If any say, the world is even cloyed 
 with books, and therefore though the discourse be 
 necessary, yet the publication is needless. 
 
 Solution 1. I answer, there are multitudes of books 
 indeed, and of them, many concern not themselves 
 about essential truths and practical godliness, but 
 spend their strength upon impracticable notions and 
 frivolous controversies ; many also strike at essential 
 truths, and endeavour to undermine the power of 
 godliness : and some there are that nourish the root, 
 and tend to clear and confirm, to prepare and apply 
 
54 
 
 the great truths of the gospel, that they may be bread 
 for souls to live and feed on. Now, though I could 
 wish that those who have handled the pen of the 
 scribe, had better employed their time and pains 
 than to obtrude such useless discourses upon the 
 world ; yet, for books of the latter rank, I say, that 
 when husbandmen complain of too much corn, let 
 Christians complain of too many such books. 
 
 Sol. 2. And if you be so highly conceited of your 
 own furniture and ability, that such books are need- 
 less to you ; if you let them alone they will do you 
 no hurt, and other poor hungry souls will be glad of 
 them, and bless God for what you despise and leave. 
 
 ObJ. If it be said that several of the cases here 
 handled touch not your condition, I answer — 
 
 Sol, 1. That which is not your condition, may be 
 another's. If you be placed in an easy, full, and pros- 
 perous state, and so have no need of the helps here 
 offered to support your hearts under pinching wants, 
 others are forced to live by faith for every day's pro- 
 vision. If you be dandled upon the knee of provi- 
 dence, some of your brethren are under its feet. If 
 you have inward peace and tranquilHty of spirit, and 
 so need not the counsels here given to ward off those 
 desperate conclusions that poor afflicted souls are ready 
 to draw upon themselves at such a time ; yet it may 
 be a word in season to them, and they may say as 
 David to Abigail, " Blessed be thou of the Lord, and 
 blessed be thy advice." 
 
 Sol. 2. That may be your condition shortly, which is 
 not your condition at present. Say not thy mountain 
 stands strong, thou shalt never be moved : there are 
 changes in the right hand of the Most High, and 
 
65 
 
 then those truths which are little more esteemed than 
 hedge-fruits, will be as apples of gold in pictures of 
 silver, Jer. xxxiii. 10, 11. The prophet there 
 teaches the Jews (who then dwelt in their own houses) 
 how to defend their religion in Babylon, and what they 
 should say to the Chaldeans there, and therefore that 
 verse is written in Chaldee. So much for the reasons 
 of its publication : next for the publication of it to you. 
 I was induced thereto by the consideration, 
 
 1. Of the relation I have to you above all the 
 people in the world. I look upon my gifts as yours, 
 my time as yours, and all the talents I am intrusted 
 with as yours. It is not with you as with a woman 
 whose husband is dead, and so is freed from the law 
 of her husband : the relation still continues, and so do 
 all the mutual duties of it. 
 
 2. By the consideration of my necessary absence 
 from you. I would not that personal absence should 
 by insensible degrees untwist (as usually it doth) the 
 cord of friendship, and therefore I have endeavoured 
 (as absent friends use to do) to preserve and strengthen 
 it by this small remembrance. It was Vespasian's 
 answer to Apollonius, when he desired access for two 
 philosophers : My doors (said Vespasian) are always 
 open to philosophers, but my very breast is open to 
 thee. I cannot say with him, my doors are open for 
 the free access of friends, being by a sad providence 
 shut against myself: but this I can say, my very breast 
 is still open to you, you are as dear to me as ever. 
 
 3. Another inducement (and indeed the main) was 
 the perpetual usefulness and necessity of these truths 
 for you, of which you will have continual need : and I 
 know few of you have such happy memories to retain, 
 
• 56 
 
 and I cannot be always with you to inculcate these 
 things ; but I was willing to leave this with you as a 
 legacy, as a testimony of sincere love for and care over 
 vou. This may counsel and direct you when I'can- 
 not. I may be rendered useless to you by a civil or 
 natural death : but this will outlive me — and O that 
 it may serve your souls when I am silent in the dust ! 
 
 To hasten now to a conclusion, I have only these 
 three requests to you, which I earnestly beseech you 
 not to deny me ; yea, I charge you, as ever you hope 
 to appear with comfort before the great Shepherd, do 
 not dare to slight these requests. 
 
 1. Above all other studies in the world, study your 
 own hearts ; waste not a minute more of your precious 
 time about frivolous and unsubstantial controversies. 
 It is reported even of Bellarmine, (how truly I exam- 
 ine not,) that he turned with loathing from the study 
 of school-divinity, because it wanted the sweet juice of 
 piety. 1 had rather it should be said of you, as one 
 said of Swinkfeldius, " He wanted a regular head, but 
 not an honest heart," than that you should have regu- 
 lar heads and irregular hearts. My dear flock, I have, 
 according to the grace given me, laboured in the course 
 of my ministry among you, to feed you with the heart- 
 strengthening bread of practical doctrine, and I do 
 assure you, it is far better you should have the sweet 
 and saving impressions of gospel truths, feelingly and 
 powerfully conveyed to your hearts, than only to un- 
 derstand them by a bare ratiocination, or a drysyllo- 
 gistical inference. Leave trifling studies to such as 
 have time lying on their hands, and know not how to 
 employ it. Remember you are at the door of eter- 
 nity, and have other work to do. Those hours you 
 
57 
 
 spend upon heart-work in your closets, are the golden 
 spots of all your time, and will have the sweetest in- 
 fluence up to your last hour. Never forget those 
 sermons I preached to you upon that subject, from 
 2 Kings XX. 2, 3. Heart-work is weighty and dif- 
 ficult work ; an error there may cost you your souls. 
 I may say of it, as Augustine speaks of the doctrine 
 of the Trinity, "A man can err in nothing more easily 
 or more dangerously." O then study your hearts. 
 
 2. My next request is, that you will carefully look 
 to your conversations, and be accurate in all your 
 ways ; hold forth the word of life. Be sure, by the 
 strictness and holiness of your lives, to settle your- 
 selves in the very consciences of your enemies. Re- 
 member that your lives must be produced in the great 
 day, to judge the world, 1 Cor. vi. 2. O then, what 
 manner of persons ought you to be ! You have many 
 eyes over you — the omniscient eye of God, that 
 searches the heart and reins. Rev. ii. 23. : the vigilant 
 eye of Satan, Job i. 7, 8. : the envious eye of enemies, 
 that curiously observe you, Psal. v. 8. : the quick 
 and observant eye of conscience, which none of your 
 actions escape, Rom. ix. 1. 
 
 O then be precise and accurate in all manner of 
 conversation : keep up the power of godliness in 
 your closets and families, and then you will not let 
 it fall in your more public employments and converses 
 in the world. I have often told you that it is the 
 honour of the gospel, that it makes the best parents 
 and children ; the best masters and servants ; the best 
 husbands and wives in the world. 
 
 3. My third and last request is, that you pray for 
 me. I hope I can say, and I am sure some of you 
 
 c3 
 
58 
 
 have acknowledged, that I came at first among you 
 as the return and answer of your prayers; and in- 
 deed so it should be, see Luke x. 2. I am persuaded 
 also, I have been carried on in my work by your 
 prayers ; it is sweet when it is so, see Ephes. vi. 18, 
 19. And I hope by your prayers to receive yet a 
 farther benefit, even that which is mentioned, Heb. 
 xiii. 18, 19. Philem. 22. And truly it is but just 
 you should pray for me, I have often prayed for you ; 
 let the pulpit, family, and closet witness for me : and 
 God forbid I should sin against the Lord in ceasing 
 to pray for you. 
 
 Yea, friends, your own interest may persuade to 
 it : what mercies you obtain for me redound to your 
 own advantage : if God preserve me, it is for your 
 use and service : the more gifts and graces a minister 
 hath, the better for them that shall wait on his minis- 
 try ; the more God gives unto me, the more I shall 
 be able to give out to you. I will detain you no 
 longer, but entreat you to accept this small testimony 
 of my great love, and have recourse to it as the exi-* 
 gencies of your condition shall require. Read it con- 
 sideringly and obediently: judge it not by the dres& 
 and style, but by the weight and savour of what you 
 read. It is a good rule of Bernard, in reading books, 
 " Regard not so much the science, as the savour." 
 That it may prove the savour of life unto life to you, 
 and all those into whose hands it shall come, is the 
 hearty desire of. 
 
 Your loving and faithful Pastor, 
 
 JOHN FLAVEL. 
 
 From my Study at Ley, in Slapton, 7 
 Oct. 7, 1667. i 
 
.1^ 
 
 J. 
 
 ^MVN 
 
 
 SAINT INDEED, 
 
 Proverbs iv. 23. 
 
 " Keep thy heart with all diligence ; foi- out of it are the issues 
 of life." 
 
 The heart of man is his worst part before it be re- 
 generate, and the best afterwards : it is the seat of 
 principles, and fountain of actions. The eye of God 
 is, and the eye of the Christian ought to be, principally 
 fixed upon it. 
 
 The greatest difficulty in conversion, is to win the 
 heart to God ; and the greatest difficulty after conver- 
 sion, is to keep the heart with God. Here lies the 
 very difficulty and stress of religion : here is that 
 which makes the way to life a narrow way, and the 
 gate to heaven a strait gate. Direction and help in 
 this great work, are the scope and sum of this text; 
 wherein we have, 
 
 I. An exhortation, " Keep thy heart with all dili- 
 gence." 
 
 II. The reason or motive enforcing it, " For out 
 of it are the issues of life." 
 
60 
 
 In the exhortation I shall consider, 
 
 1. The matter of the duty. 
 
 2. The manner of performing it. 
 
 1. The matter of the duty, " keep thy heart/' 
 Heart is not here taken properly for that noble part 
 of the body which philosophers call the first that lives, 
 and the last that dies ; but by heart, in a metaphor, 
 the Scripture sometimes understands some particular 
 noble faculty of the soul. In Rom. i. 21. it is put for 
 the understanding part " their foohsh heart," that is, 
 " their foolish understanding was darkened." And 
 Psal.cxix. 11. it is put for the memory, " thy word have 
 I hid in my heart." And, 1 John iii. 10. it is put for 
 the conscience, which hath in it both the light of the 
 understanding, and the recognitions of the memory : 
 " If our heart condemn us," that is, if our conscience ; 
 whose proper office it is to condemn. But here we 
 are to take it more generally for the whole soul, or 
 inner man : for what the heart is to the body, that 
 the soul is to the man ; and what health is to the 
 heart, that holiness is to the soul. The state of the 
 whole body depends upon the soundness and vigour 
 of the heart, and the everlasting state of the whole 
 man upon the good or ill condition of the soul. 
 
 And by "keeping the heart," understand the diligent 
 and constant use and improvement of all holy means 
 and duties, to preserve the soul from sin, and main- 
 tain its sweet and free communion with God.* La- 
 
 * I say constant, for the reason added in the text extends the 
 duty to all the states and conditions of a Christian life, and makes 
 it bind always : if the heart must be kept because out of it are the 
 issues of life, then as long as these issues of life do flow out of it, 
 we are obliged to keep it. 
 
61 
 
 vator in loc. will have the word taken from a besieged 
 garrison, begirt by many enemies without, and in dan- 
 ger of being betrayed by treacherous citizens within ; 
 in which danger, the soldiers upon pain of death are 
 commanded to watch : and whereas the expression, 
 " keep thy heart" seems to put it upon us as our work, 
 yet it doth not imply a sufficiency or ability in us to 
 do it. We are as able to stop the sun in its course, or 
 make the rivers run backward, as by our own skill and 
 power to rule and order our hearts : we may as well 
 be our own saviours as our own keepers; and yet 
 Solomon speaks properly enough, when he saith, 
 " keep thy heart ;" because the duty is ours, though 
 the power be God's. A natural man hath no power, 
 a gracious man hath some, though not sufficient ; and 
 that power he hath, depends upon the exciting and^ 
 assisting strength of Christ. Grace within us is "be- 
 holden to grace without us. " Without me ye can 
 do nothing." So much of the matter of the duty. 
 
 2. The manner of performing it is, " with all dili- 
 gence." The Hebrew is very emphatical, q. d. ' Keep, 
 keep ; set double guards : your hearts will be gone 
 else.' And this vehemency of expression with which 
 the duty is urged, plainly implies how difficult it is 
 to keep our hearts, and how dangerous to let them go. 
 
 3. The reason or motive quickening to this duty 
 is very forcible and weighty : '* For out of it are the 
 issues of life ;" that is, it is the source and foun- 
 tain of all vital actions and operations. Saith Jerome, 
 " It is the spring and original both of good and evil, 
 as the spring in a watch that sets all the wheels in 
 motion." The heart is the treasury, the hand and 
 tongue but the shops ; what is in these comes from 
 
62 
 
 thence, the hand and tongue always begin where the 
 heart ends. The heart contrives, and the members 
 execute. " A good man out of the good treasure of 
 his heart bringeth forth good things, and an evil man 
 out of the evil treasure of his heart bringeth forth evil 
 things; for out of the abundance of his heart, his mouth 
 speaketh." So then, if the heart err in its work, these 
 must needs miscarry in theirs ; for heart-errors are like 
 the errors of the first concoction, which cannot be rec- 
 tified afterwards ; or like the misplacing and inverting 
 of the stamps and letters in the press, which must needs 
 cause so many errata in all the copies that are printed 
 off. O then, how important a duty is that which is 
 contained in the following proposition ! 
 
 Doctrine — Thatthekeeping and right managing 
 of the heart in every co?idition, is the great business of 
 a Christianas life. 
 
 What the philosopher saith of waters, is as pro- 
 perly applicable to hearts, it is hard to keep them 
 within any bounds. God hath set bounds and limits 
 to them, yet how frequently do they transgress, not 
 only the bounds of grace and religion, but even of 
 reason and common honesty ! this is that which af- 
 fords the Christian matter of labour, fear, and trem- 
 bling, to his dying day. It is not the cleansing of the 
 hand that makes a Christian, for many a hypocrite 
 can show as fair a hand as he ; but the purifying, watch- 
 ing, and right ordering of the heart : this is the thing 
 that provokes so many sad complaints, and costs so 
 many deep groans and brinish tears. It was the pride 
 of Hezekiah's heart that made him he in the dust, 
 mourning before the Lord, 2 Chron. xxxii. 26. It 
 was the fear of hypocrisy invading the heart, that 
 
63 
 
 made David cry, " Let my heart be found in thy 
 statutes, that I be not ashamed." It was the sad ex- 
 perience he had of the divisions and distractions of 
 his own heart in the service of God, that made him 
 pour out that prayer, " Unite my heart to fear thy 
 name." 
 
 The method in which I shall improve the point 
 shall be this : — 
 
 First, I shall inquire what the keeping of the heart 
 supposes and imports. 
 
 Secondly, Assign divers reasons why Christians 
 must make this the great work and business of their 
 lives. 
 
 Thirdly, Point out those special seasons which 
 especially call for this diligence in keeping the heart. 
 
 Fourthly, Apply the whole in several uses. 
 
 1. What the keeping of the heart supposes and 
 imports. 
 
 To keep the heart, necessarily supposes a previ- 
 ous work of sanctification, which hath set the heart 
 right by giving it a new spiritual bent and inclina- 
 tion ; for as long as the heart is not set right by grace 
 as to its habitual frame, no duties or means can keep 
 it right with God. Self is the poise of the unsanc- 
 tified heart, which biases and moves it in all its de- 
 signs and actions ; and as long as it is so, it is im- 
 possible that any external means should keep it with 
 God. 
 
 Man, by creation, was of one constant, uniform 
 frame and tenor of spirit, held one straight and even 
 course ; not one thought or faculty ravelled or dis- 
 ordered : his mind had a perfect illumination to un- 
 derstand and know the will of God ; his will a per- 
 
64 
 
 feet compliance therewith ; his sensitive appetite and 
 other inferior powers stood in a most obedient sub- 
 ordination. 
 
 Man, by degeneration, is become a mpst disordered 
 and rebellious creature, contesting with and opposing 
 his Maker, as the first cause, by self-dependence ; 
 as the chiefest good, by self-love; as the highest 
 lord, by self-will ; and as the last end, by self-seek- 
 ing — and so is quite disordered, and all his acts irre- 
 g-ular : his illuminated understandino- is clouded with 
 ignorance ; his complying will, full of rebellion and 
 stubbornness ; his subordinate powers, casting off the 
 dominion and government of the superior faculties. 
 
 But by regeneration this disordered soul is set 
 right again, san-ctification being the rectifying and due 
 framing, or as the scripture phrases it, the renovation 
 of the soul " after the image of God." In which 
 self-dependence is removed by faith, self-love by the 
 love of God, self-will by subjection and obedience to 
 the will of God, and self-seeking by self-denial. 
 The darkened understanding is again illuminated, 
 Eph. i. 18. : the refractory will sweetly subdued, 
 Psal. ex. 3. : the rebellious appetite, or concupis- 
 cence, gradually conquered, Rom. vi. 7. jper tot. 
 And thus the soul, which sin had universally de- 
 praved, is again by grace restored and rectified. 
 
 This being presupposed, it will not be difficult to 
 comprehend what it is to keep the heart, which is 
 nothing else but the constant care and diligence of 
 such a renewed man, to preserve his soul in that holy 
 frame to which grace hath reduced it, and daily strives 
 to hold it. 
 
 For though grace hath, in a great measure, recti- 
 
65 
 
 ficd the soul, and given it an habitual and heavenly 
 temper, yet sin often actually discomposes it again; 
 so that even a gracious heart is like a musical instru- 
 ment, which, though it be ever so exactly tuned, a 
 small matter brings it out of tune again ; yea, hang 
 it aside but a little, and it will need setting again, 
 before you can play another lesson on it : even so 
 stands the case with gracious hearts; if they are in 
 frame in one duty, yet how dull, dead, and disor- 
 dered when they come to another, and therefore 
 every duty needs a particular preparation of the heart: 
 " If thou prepare thine heart, and stretch out thine 
 hands towards him." Well then, to keep the heart, 
 is carefully to preserve it from sin, which disorders it ; 
 and maintain that spiritual and gracious frame which 
 fits it for a life of communion with God : — and this 
 includes these six acts in it : 
 
 1st, i'^requcnt observation of the frame of the 
 heart, turning in and examining how the case stands 
 with it : this is one part of the work. Carnal and for- 
 mal persons take no heed to this, they cannot be 
 brought to confer with their own hearts : there are 
 some men and women that have lived forty or fifty 
 years in the world, and have scarce had one hour's 
 discourse with their own hearts all that while : it is 
 a hard thing to bring a man and himself together 
 upon such an account : but saints know those solilo- 
 quies and self-conferences to be of excellent use and 
 advantage. The heathen could say, the soul is made 
 wise by sitting still in quietness. Though bankrupts 
 care not to look hito their books of accounts, yet up- 
 right hearts will know whether they go backward or 
 forward : " I commune with mine own heart." The 
 
66 
 
 heart can never be kept until its case be examined 
 and understood. 
 
 2dly, It includes deep humiliation for heart-evils 
 and disorders. Thus Hezekiah humbled himself for 
 the pride of his heart, 2 Chron. xxxii. 26. Thus the 
 people were ordered to spread forth their hands to 
 God in prayer, in a sense of the plague of their own 
 hearts, 1 Kings viii. 38. Upon this account many 
 an upright heart hath been laid low before God : O 
 what a heart have I ! They have in their confes- 
 sions pointed at the heart, the pained place — Lord, 
 here is the wound, here is the plague-sore. It is with 
 the heart well kept, as it is with the eye, which is a 
 fit emblem of it ; if a small dust get into the eye, it 
 will never leave twinkling and watering till it have 
 wept it out : so the upright heart cannot be at rest 
 till it have wept out its troubles, and poured out its 
 complaints before the Lord. 
 
 3dly, It includes earnest supplications, and instant 
 prayer, for heart-purifying and rectifying grace, when 
 sin hath defiled and disordered it : " Cleanse thou 
 me from secret faults ;" and, " Unite ray heart to 
 fear thy name." Saints have always many such pe- 
 titions depending before the throne of God's grace : 
 this is the thing which is most pleaded by them with 
 God. When they are praying for outward mercies, , 
 haply their spirits may be more remiss ; but when 
 it comes to the heart-case, then they extend their 
 spirits to the utmost, fill their mouths with argu- 
 ments, weep and make supplication : O for a better 
 heart ! O for a heart to love God more, to hate 
 sin more, to walk more evenly with God ! Lord, 
 deny not to me such a heart, whatever thou deny 
 
67 
 
 me : give me a heart to fear thee, love and delight 
 in thee, if I beg my bread in desolate places. It is 
 observed of holy Mr. Bradford, that, when he was 
 confessing sin, he would never give over confessing 
 until he had felt some brokenness of heart for that 
 sin ; and when praying for any spiritual mercy, would 
 never give over that suit, until he had got some re- 
 lish of that mercy : that is the third thing included in 
 keeping the heart. 
 
 4thly, It includes the imposing of strong engage- 
 ments and bonds upon ourselves to walk more accu- 
 rately with God, and avoid the occasions whereby the 
 heart may be induced to sin. Well composed, advised, 
 and deliberate vows are, in some cases, of excellent use 
 to guard the heart against some special sin : " I made 
 a covenant with mine eyes." By this means, holy 
 ones have overawed their souls, and preserved them- 
 selves from defilement by some special heart corrup- 
 tions. 
 
 5thly, It includes a constant holy jealousy over our 
 own hearts. Quick-sighted self-jealousy is an excel- 
 lent preservative from sin. He that will keep his heart, 
 must have the eyes of his soul awake and open upon 
 all the disorderly and tumultuous stirrings of his af- 
 fections : if the affections break loose, and the pas- 
 sions be stirred, the soul must discover and suppress 
 them before they get to a height. O my soul ! dost 
 thou well in this ? My tumultuous thoughts and 
 passions, where is your commission ? 
 
 " Happy is the man that thus feareth always." 
 By this fear of the Lord it is that men depart from 
 evil, shake off security, and preserve themselves from 
 iniquity. He that will keep his heart, must feed with 
 
68 
 
 fear, rejoice with fear, and pass the whole time of his 
 sojourning here in fear : and all little enough to keep 
 the heart from sin. 
 
 6thly, And, lastly, to add no more, it includes the 
 realizing of God's presence with us, and setting the 
 Lord always before us. This the people of God have 
 found a singular means to keep their hearts upright, 
 and awe them from sin. When the eye of our faith 
 is fixed upon the eye of God's omniscience, we dare 
 not let out our thoughts and affections to vanity: 
 holy Job durst not suffer his heart to yield to an im- 
 pure, vain thought ; and what was it that moved him 
 to so great a circumspection ? Why, he tells you, 
 " Doth he not see my ways, and count all my 
 steps ?" " Walk before me," saith God to Abra- 
 ham, *' and be thou perfect." Even as parents use 
 to set their children in the congregation before them, 
 knowing that else they will be toying and playing, 
 so would the heart of the best man too, were it not 
 for the eye of God. 
 
 In these, and such like particulars, do gracious 
 souls express the care they have of their hearts. They 
 are as careful to prevent the breaking loose of their 
 corruptions in times of temptation, as seamen are to 
 bind fast the guns, that they break not loose in a 
 storm ; as careful to preserve the sweetness and com- 
 fort they have got from God in any duty, as one that 
 comes out of a hot bath, or great sweat, is of taking 
 cold by going forth into the chill air : — this is the work, 
 and of all works in religion it is the most difiicult, 
 constant, and important work. 
 
 1. It is the hardest work : heart-work is hard work 
 indeed. To shuffle over religious duties with a loose 
 
69 
 
 and heedless spirit, will cost no great pains ; but to 
 set thyself before the Lord, and tie up thy loose and 
 vain thoughts to a constant and serious attendance 
 upon him, this will cost thee something. To attain a 
 facility and dexterity of language in prayer, and put 
 thy meaning into apt and decent expressions, is easy ; 
 but to get thy heart broken for sin whilst thou art 
 confessing it, melted with free grace whilst thou art 
 blessing God for it, to be really ashamed and humbled 
 through the apprehensions of God's infinite holiness, 
 and to keep thy heart in this frame, not only in but 
 after duty, will surely cost thee some groans and 
 travailing pains of soul. To repress the outward 
 acts of sin, and compose the external part of thy life 
 in a laudable and comely manner, is no great matter; 
 even carnal persons, by the force of common princi- 
 ples, can do this : but to kill the root of corruption 
 within, to set and keep up a holy government over 
 thy thoughts, to have all things lie straight and orderly 
 in the heart, this is not easy. 
 
 2. It is a constant work: the keeping of the heart 
 is such a work, as is never done till life be done. This 
 labour and our life end together. It is with a Chris- 
 tian in this business, as it is with seamen that have 
 sprung a leak at sea ; if they tug not constantly at 
 the pump, the water increases upon them, and will 
 quickly sink them : it is in vain for them to say the 
 work is hard, and we are weary. There is no time or 
 condition in the life of a Christian, which will suiFer 
 an intermission of this work. It is in the keeping 
 watch over our hearts, as it was in the keeping up of 
 Moses' hands, whilst Israel and Amalek were fight- 
 ing below. No sooner do Moses' hands grow heavy 
 
70 
 
 and sink down, but Amalek prevails. You know it 
 cost David and Peter many a sad day and night for 
 intermitting the watch over their own hearts but a 
 few minutes. 
 
 3. It is the most important business of a Chris- 
 tian's life. Without this we are but formalists in re- 
 ligion : all our professions, gifts, and duties signify 
 nothing : " My son, give me thine heart." God is 
 pleased to call that a gift, which is indeed a debt : he 
 will put this honour upon the creature to receive it 
 from him in the way of a gift ; but if this be not given 
 him he regards not whatever else you bring to him : 
 there is so much only of worth and value in what we 
 do, as there is of heart in it. Concerning the heart, 
 God seems to say as Joseph of Benjamin, " If you 
 bring not Benjamin with you, you shall not see my 
 face." Among the heathens, when the beast was 
 cut up for sacrifice, the first thing the priest looked 
 upon was the heart, and if that was unsound and 
 naught, the sacrifice was rejected. God rejects all 
 duties (how glorious soever in other respects) offered 
 him without a heart. He that performs duty without 
 a heart, that is, heedlessly, is no more accepted with 
 God than he that performs it with a double heart, 
 that is, hypocritically, Isa. Ixvi. 3. And thus I have 
 briefly opened the nature of the duty, what is im- 
 ported in this phrase, " Keep thy heart." 
 
 2. Next, I shall give you some rational account, 
 why Christians should make this the great business 
 of their lives, " to keep their hearts." 
 
 The importance and necessity of making this our 
 great and main business, will manifestly appear in 
 that, 1. The honour of God. 2. The sincerity of 
 
71 
 
 our profession. 3. The beauty of our conversation. 
 4. The comfort of our souls. 5. The improvement 
 of our graces : and, 6. Our stability in the hour of 
 temptation, — are all wrapt up in, and dependent on, 
 our sincerity and care in the management of this 
 work. 
 
 1. The glory of God is much concerned therein : 
 heart-evils are very provoking evils to the Lord. 
 The schools do well observe, that outward sins are 
 sins of great infamy, but heart-sins are sins of deeper 
 guilt. How severely hath the great God declared 
 his wrath from heaven against heart-wickedness? 
 The great crime for which the old world stands in- 
 dicted, is heart-wickedness : " God saw that every 
 imagination (or fiction) of the heart was only evil, 
 and that continually :" for which he sent the dread- 
 fullest judgment that was ever executed since the 
 world began : " And the Lord said, I will destroy 
 man whom I have created, from the face of the earth, 
 both man and beast, and the creeping things, and the 
 fowls of heaven, for it repenteth me that I have made 
 man." We find not their murders, adulteries, blas- 
 phemies, (though they were defiled with these,) par- 
 ticularly alleged against them ; but the evils of their 
 hearts ; yea, that which God was so provoked by, as 
 to give up his peculiar inheritance into the enemies' 
 hand, was the evil of their hearts. O Jerusalem, 
 " wash thine heart from wickedness, that thou may- 
 est be saved: how long shall vain thoughts lodge 
 within thee." The wickedness and vanity of their 
 thoughts, God took special notice of; and because of 
 this, the Chaldean must come upon them as a " lion 
 from his thicket, and tear them to pieces." For the 
 
72 
 
 very sin of thoughts it was that God threw down the 
 fallen angels from heaven, and keeps them still in 
 everlasting chains to the judgment to which they are 
 reserved ; as prisoners that have most irons laid upon 
 them, may be supposed to be the greatest malefac- 
 tors. And what was their sin ? Why only spiritual 
 wickedness, for they, having no bodily organs, could 
 act nothing externally against God. Yea, mere 
 heart-evils are so provoking, that for them he rejects 
 with indignation all the duties that some men per- 
 form unto him : " He that killeth an ox, is as if he 
 slew a man ; he that sacrificeth a lamb, as if he cut 
 off a dog's neck ; he that offereth an oblation, as if 
 he offered swine's blood; he that burnetii incense, as 
 if he blessed an idol." In what words could the 
 abhorrence of a creature's actions be more fully ex- 
 pressed by the holy God? Murder and idolatry 
 are not more vile in his account than their sacrifices, 
 though materially such as himself appointed. And 
 what made them so ? The following words inform 
 us : " Their soul delighteth in their abominations." 
 
 To conclude, such is the vileness of mere heart- 
 sins, that the Scriptures sometimes intimate the diffi- 
 culty of pardon for them. So in the case of Simon 
 Magus. His heart was not right, he had vile 
 thoughts of God, and the things of God : the apostle 
 bids him " repent and pray, if perhaps the thoughts 
 of his heart might be forgiven him." O then, never 
 slight heart-evils ! for by these God is highly wronged 
 and provoked : and for this reason, let every Chris- 
 tian make it his work to keep his heart with all dili- 
 gence. 
 
 2. The sincerity of our profession depends much 
 
7» 
 
 upon the care and conscience we have in keeping 
 our hearts ; for it is most certain, that a man is but 
 a hypocrite in his profession, how curious soever he 
 be in the externals of rehgion, that is heedless and 
 careless of the frame of his heart. You have a preg- 
 nant instance of this in the case of Jehu : " But 
 Jehu took no heed to walk in the ways of the Lord 
 God of Israel with his heart." That context gives 
 us an account of the great service performed by Jehu 
 asrainst the house of Ahab .and Baal, as also of a 
 great temporal reward given him by God for that 
 service, even that his children to the fourth genera- 
 tion should sit upon the throne of Israel. And yet 
 in these words Jehu is censured for a hypocrite : 
 though God approved and rewarded the work, yet 
 he abhorred and rejected the person that did it as 
 hypocritical. And wherein lay his hypocrisy, but 
 in this — that he " took no heed to walk in the ways 
 of the Lord with his heart?" that is, he did all in- 
 sincerely and for self-ends : and though the work he 
 did was materially good, yet he, not purging his 
 heart from those unworthy self-designs in doing it, 
 was a hypocrite. And Simon, of whom we spake be- 
 fore, though he appeared such a person that the 
 apostle could not regularly refuse him, yet his hypo- 
 crisy was quickly discovered : and what discovered it 
 but this, that though he professed and associated 
 himself with the saints, yet he was a stranger to the 
 mortification of heart-sins ? " Thy heart is not right 
 with God." It is true there is a great difference 
 among Christians themselves, in their diligence and 
 dexterity about heart-work : some are more convert 
 sant and successful in it than others are ; but he that 
 D 60 
 
7* 
 
 takes no heed to his heart, that is not careful to 
 order it aright before God, is but a hypocrite : " And 
 they come unto thee as the people cometh, and sit 
 before thee as my people, and they hear thy words, 
 but they will not do them : for with their mouth they 
 show much love, but their heart goeth after their 
 covetousness." Here were a company of formal 
 hypocrites, as it is evident by that expression, " as my 
 people," — like them, but not of them. And what 
 made them so? Their outside was fair: here were 
 reverent postures, high professions, much seeming 
 joy and delight in ordinances — " thou art to them as 
 a lovely song;" — yea, but for all that, they kept not 
 their hearts with God in those duties ; their hearts 
 were commanded by their lusts, they went after their 
 covetousness. Had they kept their hearts with God, 
 all had been well; but not regarding which way their 
 hearts went in duty, there lay the core of their hy- 
 pocrisy. 
 
 Obj. If any upright soul should hence infer, 'Then 
 I am a hypocrite too ; for many times my heart de- 
 parts from God in duty : do what I can, yet I cannot 
 hold it close with God.' 
 
 Sol. To this I answer, the very objection carries 
 in it its own solution. Thou sayest, ' Do what I can, 
 yet I cannot keep my heart with- God.' Soul, if 
 thou dost what thou canst, thou hast the blessing of 
 an upright, though God sees good to exercise thee 
 under the affliction of a discomposed, heart. There 
 remains still some wildness in the thoughts and fan- 
 cies of the best to humble them ; but if you find a 
 care before to prevent them, opposition against them 
 when they come, and grief and sorrow afterwards. 
 
75 
 
 you will find enough to clear you from reigning hy- 
 pocrisy. 
 
 First, This fore-care is seen, partly in laying up the 
 word in thine heart to prevent them — " Thy word 
 have I hid in mine heart, that I might not sin ao-ainst 
 thee ;" partly in our endeavours to engage our hearts 
 to God, Jer. xxx. 21.; and partly in begging pre- 
 venting grace from God in our onsets upon duty, 
 Psalm cxix. 36, 37. It is a good sign where this 
 care goes before a duty. 
 
 And, second, It is a sweet sign of uprightness to op- 
 pose them in their first rise : " I hate vain thoughts" 
 — " The Spirit lusteth against the flesh." 
 
 And, third. Thy after-grief discovers thy upright 
 heart. If, with Hezekiah, thou art humbled for the 
 evils of thy heart, thou hast no reason for these dis- 
 orders to question the integrity of it : but to suffer 
 sin to lodge quietly in the heart, to let thy heart ha- 
 bitually and uncontroUedly wander from God, is a 
 sad and dangerous symptom indeed. 
 
 (hi.) The beauty of our conversation arises from 
 the heavenly frame and holy order of our spirits. 
 There is a spiritual lustre and beauty in the conver- 
 sation of saints — " the righteous is more excellent 
 than his neighbour," they shine as the lights of the 
 world: but whatever lustre and beauty is in their 
 lives, comes from the excellency of their spirits ; as 
 the candle within puts a lustre upon the lantern in 
 which it shines. It is impossible that a disordered 
 and neglected heart should ever produce a well- 
 ordered conversation ; and since (as the text ob- 
 serves) the issues or streams of life flow out of the 
 heart, as their fountain, it must needs follow, that 
 D 2 
 
76 
 
 such as the heart is, the hfe will be ; hence, " abstain' 
 from fleshly lusts — having your conversation honest,"^ 
 or beautiful, as the Greek word imports. " Let the 
 wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his 
 thoughts." His way notes the course of his life, his 
 thoughts the frame of his heart ; and therefore, since 
 the way and course of his life flows from his thoughts, 
 or the frame of his heart, both or neither will be for- 
 saken. The heart is the womb of all actions ; these 
 actions are virtually and seminally contained in our 
 thoughts ; these thoughts, being once made up into 
 affections, are quickly made out into suitable actions 
 and practices. If the heart be wicked — then, as 
 Christ saith, " Out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, 
 murders, adulteries," &c. Mark the order — first, wan- 
 ton or revengeful thoughts ; then, unclean or murder- 
 ous practices. And if the heart be holy and spiritual, 
 then, as David speaks from sweet experience, " My 
 heart is inditing a good matter : 1 speak of the things 
 which I have made — my tongue is as the pen of a 
 ready writer." Here is a life richly beautified with 
 good works : some ready made — " I will speak of the 
 things which I have made ;" others upon the wheel 
 making — " My heart is inditing ;" but both proceed- 
 ing from the heavenly frame of his heart. 
 
 Put but the heart in frame, and the life will quickly 
 discover that it is so. I think it is not very difficult 
 to discern, by the duties and converses of Christians, 
 what frames their spirits are under. Take a Chris- 
 tian in a good frame, and how serious, heavenly, and 
 profitable will his converses and duties be ! What 
 a lovely companion is he, during the continuance of it I 
 It would do any one's heart good, to be with him at 
 
77 
 
 such a time. *' The mouth of the righteous speaketh 
 wisdom, and his tongue talketh of judgment, the law 
 of his God is in his heart." 
 
 When the heart is up with God, and full of God, 
 how dexterously and ingenuously will he wind in 
 spiritual discourse ! improving every occasion and 
 advantage to some heavenly purpose : few words run 
 then at the waste-spout. 
 
 And what else can be the reason why the dis- 
 courses and duties of many Christians are become so 
 frothy and unprofitable, their communion both with 
 God and one another become as a dry stack, but 
 because their hearts are neglected ? Surely this must 
 be the reason of it — and verily it is an evil greatly to 
 be bewailed — for want of this Christian fellowship it 
 is become a sapless thing : so the attracting beauty 
 that was wont to shine from the conversations of the 
 saints upon the faces and consciences of the world, 
 (which, if it did not allure and bring them into love 
 with the ways of God, yet, at the least, left a testi- 
 mony in their consciences of the excellency of those 
 men and their way,) is in a great measure lost, to 
 the unspeakable detriment of religion. 
 
 Time was when Christians did carry it at such a 
 rate, that the world stood at a gaze at them, as the 
 word, 1 Pet. iv. 4. imports. Their life and language 
 were of a different strain from others, their tongues 
 discovered them to be Galileans wherever they came ; 
 but now, since vain speculations and fruitless con- 
 troversies have so much obtained, and heart-work, 
 practical godliness, so much neglected among profes- 
 sors, the case is sadly altered, their discourse is be- 
 come like other men's. If they come among you now, 
 
78 
 
 they may (to allude to that. Acts ii. 6.) "hear every 
 man speak in his own language." And truly I have 
 little hope to see this evil redressed, and the credit 
 of religion again repaired, until Christians fall to their 
 old work — till they ply heart-work closer. When 
 the salt of heavenly-mindedness is again cast into 
 the spring, the streams will run clearer and sweeter. 
 
 (iv.) The comfort of our souls doth much depend 
 upon the keeping of our hearts ; for he that is negli- 
 gent in attending his own heart, is (ordinarily) a 
 great stranger to assurance, and the sweet comforts 
 flowing from it. 
 
 Indeed, if the Antinomian doctrine were true, 
 which teaches you to reject all marks and signs for 
 the trial of your condition, telling you it is the Spirit 
 only that immediately assures you, by witnessing 
 your adoption directly without them — then you might 
 be careless of your hearts, yea, strangers to them, 
 and yet not strangers to comfort : but since both 
 Scripture and experience do confute this dotage, I 
 hope you will never look for comfort in that unscrip- 
 tural way. I deny not but it is the work and office 
 of the Spirit to assure you ; and yet do confidently 
 affirm, that if ever you attain assurance in the ordi- 
 nary way wherein God dispenses it, you must take 
 pains with your own hearts : you may expect your 
 comforts upon easier terms ; but I am mistaking, if 
 ever you enjoy them upon any other — " Give all dili- 
 gence : prove yourselves." This is the Scripture 
 way. I remember Mr. Roberts, in his treatise on 
 the covenant, tells us, that he knew a Christian who, 
 in the infancy of his Christianity, so vehemently 
 panted after the infallible assurance of God's love, 
 
79 
 
 that for a long time together he earnestly desired some 
 voice from heaven; yea, sometimes walking in the soli- 
 tary fields, earnestly desired some miraculous voice 
 from the trees and stones there ; — this, after many 
 desires and longings, was denied him ; but in time a 
 better was afforded, in the ordinary way of searching 
 the word and his own heart. An instance of the like 
 nature the learned Gerson gives us, of one that was 
 driven by temptation upon the very borders of despera- 
 tion. At last, being sweetly settled and assured, one 
 asked him how he attained it ? He answered, ' Not 
 by any extraordinary revelation, but by subjecting his 
 understanding to the Scriptures, and comparing his 
 own heart with them.' The Spirit indeed assures 
 by witnessing our adoption ; and he witnesseth two 
 ways. 
 
 1. Objectively — that is, by working those graces 
 in our souls, which are the conditions of the promise : 
 and so the Spirit and his graces in us are all one^ 
 the Spirit of God dwelling in us is a mark of our 
 adoption. Now, the Spirit cannot be discerned in 
 his essence, but in his operations ; and to discern 
 these is to discern the Spirit : and how these should 
 be discerned without serious searching, and diligent 
 watching of the heart, I cannot imagine. 
 
 2. The other way of the Spirit's witnessing is effec- 
 tively — that is, by irradiating the soul with a grace- 
 discovering light, shining upon his own work; and this, 
 in order of nature, follows the former work : he first 
 infuses the grace, and then opens the eye of the soul 
 to see it. Now, since the heart is the subject of that 
 infused grace, even this way of the Spirit's witness- 
 ing also includes the necessity of keeping carefully 
 our own hearts : for, 
 
80 
 
 First, A neglected heart is so confused and dark, 
 that the httle grace which is in it, is not ordinarily 
 discernible. The most accurate and laborious Chris- 
 tians, that take most pains, and spend most time 
 about their hearts, do yet find it very difficult to dis- 
 cover the pure and genuine workings of the Spirit 
 there : how then shall the Christian, who is (com- 
 paratively) negligent and remiss about heart-work, 
 be ever able to discover it ? Sincerity, which is the 
 thing sought for, lies in the heart like a small piece 
 of gold in the bottom of a river : he that will find it 
 must stay till the water is clear and settled, and then 
 he shall see it sparkling at the bottom ; and that the 
 heart may be clear and settled, how much pains and 
 watching, care and diligence will it cost ? 
 
 Second, God doth not usually indulge lazy and ne- 
 gligent souls with the comfort of assurance : he will 
 not so much as seem to patronise sloth and careless- 
 ness : he will give it, but it shall be in his own way : 
 his command hath united our care and comfort to- 
 gether: they are mistaken that think the beautiful 
 child of assurance may be born without pangs. Ah ! 
 how many solitary hours have the people of God 
 spent in heart-examination ! how many times have 
 they looked into the word, and then into their hearts ! 
 Sometimes they thought they discovered sincerity, 
 and were even ready to draw forth the triumphant 
 conclusion of assurance ; then comes a doubt they 
 cannot resolve, and dashes all again : many hopes 
 and fears, doubtings and reasonings, they have had in 
 their own breasts, before they arrived at a comfortable 
 settlement. 
 
 To conclude : suppose it possible for a careless 
 
81 
 
 Christian to attain assurance, yet it is impossible he 
 should long retain it ; for, as for those whose hearts 
 are filled with the joys of assurance, as with a preg- 
 nant woman subject to miscarriages, if extraordinary 
 care be not used, it is a thousand to one if ever she 
 embrace a living child : so it is here, a little pride, 
 vanity, carelessness, dashes all that for which thou 
 hast been labouring a long time in many a weary 
 duty. Since, then, the joy of our life, the comfort of 
 our souls, rises and falls with our diligence in this 
 work, keep your hearts with all diligence. 
 
 (v.) The improvement of our graces depends upon 
 the keeping of our hearts. I never knew grace 
 thrive in a negligent and careless soul : the habits 
 and roots of grace are planted in the heart ; and the 
 deeper they are radicated there, the more thriving 
 and flourishing grace is. We read of being " rooted 
 in grace :" grace in the heart is the root of every 
 gracious word in the mouth, and of every holy work 
 in the hand, Psalm cxvi. 10. 2 Cor. iv. 13. It is 
 true, Christ is the root of a Christian ; but Christ is 
 the originating root, and grace a root originated, 
 planted, and influenced by Christ : according as this 
 thrives under divine influence, so the acts of grace 
 are more or less fruitful or vigorous. Now, in a 
 heart not kept with care and diligence, these fructi- 
 fying influences are stopped and cut off, multitudes 
 of vanities break in upon it, and devour its strength ; 
 the heart is as it were the pasture, in which multi- 
 tudes of thoughts are fed every day : a gracious heart 
 diligently kept, feeds many precious thoughts of God 
 in a day : " How precious are thy thoughts to me, 
 O God ! How great is the sum of them ! If I 
 D 3 
 
82 
 
 should count them, they are more in number than 
 the sand ; and when I awake, I am still with thee." 
 And as the gracious heart feeds and nourishes them, 
 so they refresh and feast the heart : " My soul is 
 filled as with marrow and fatness whilst I think upon 
 thee," &c. But in the disregarded heart, swarms of 
 vain and foolish thoughts are perpetually working, 
 and justle out those spiritual ideas and thoughts of 
 God by which the soul should be refreshed. 
 
 Besides, the careless heart makes nothing out of 
 any duty or ordinance it performs or attends on ; and 
 yet these are the conduits of heaven, from whence 
 grace is watered and made fruitful. A man may go 
 with a heedless spirit from ordinance to ordinance, 
 abide all his days under the choicest teaching, and yet 
 never be improved by them ; for heart-neglect is a 
 leak in the bottom : no heavenly influences, how rich 
 soever, abide in that soul. Matt. xiii. 3, 4. The 
 heart that lies open and common like the highway, 
 free for all passengers, when the seed fell on it the 
 fowls came and devoured it. Alas ! it is not enough 
 to hear, unless we take heed how we hear : a man 
 may pray, and never be the better, unless he watch 
 unto prayer. In a word, all ordinances, means, and 
 duties, are blessed unto the improvement of grace, 
 according to the care and strictness we use in keep- 
 ing our hearts in them. 
 
 (vi.) Lastly, The stability of our souls in the hour 
 of temptation, will be much according to the care and 
 conscience we have of keeping our hearts. The care- 
 less heart is an easy prey to Satan in the hour of 
 temptation : his main batteries are raised against that 
 fort-royal, the heart ; if he wins that, he wins all, for 
 
83 
 
 it commands the whole man. And alas, how easy a 
 conquest is a neglected heart ! It is no more difficult 
 to surprise it, than for an enemy to enter that city 
 whose gates are open and unguarded : it is the watch- 
 ful heart that discovers and suppresses the temptation 
 before it comes to its strength. Divines observe this 
 to be the method in which temptations are ripened 
 and brought to their full stren^pth. 
 
 There is, 1. The irritation of the object, or that 
 power it hath to work upon and provoke our corrupt 
 nature, which is either done by the real presence of 
 the object, or else by speculation, when the object 
 (though absent) is held out by the phantasy before 
 the soul. 
 
 2. Then follows the motion of the sensitive appe- 
 tite, which is stirred and provoked by the phantasy, 
 representing it as a sensual good, as having profit or 
 pleasure in it. 
 
 3. Then there is a consultation in the mind about 
 it, deliberating about the likeliest means of accom- 
 plishing it. 
 
 4. Next follows the election or choice of the will, 
 
 5. And, lastly, the desire or full engagement of 
 the will to it. 
 
 All this may be done in a few moments ; for the 
 debates of the soul are quick, and soon ended. 
 When it comes thus far, when the heart is won, 
 Satan hath entered victoriously, and displayed his 
 colours upon the walls of that royal fort. But had 
 the heart been well guarded at first, it had never 
 come to this height, the temptation had been stopped 
 in the first or second act : and indeed there it is 
 stopped easily ; for it is in the motions of a tempted 
 
84 
 
 soul to sin, as in the motion of a stone falling from 
 the brow of a hill — it is easily stopped at first, but, 
 when once it is set a-going, Vires acquirit eundo. 
 And therefore, it is the greatest wisdom in the world 
 to observe the first motions of the heart, to check and 
 stop sin there. The motions of sin are weakest at 
 first : a little care and watchfulness may prevent much 
 mischief now, which the careless heart not heeding, is 
 brought within the power of temptation, as the Sy- 
 rians were brought blindfold into the midst of Sa- 
 maria before they knew where they were. 
 
 By this time, reader, I hope thou art fully satis- 
 fied how consequential and necessary a work the keep- 
 ing of thy heart is ; it being a duty that wraps up so 
 many dear interests of the soul in it. 
 
 III. Next, according to the method propounded, 
 I proceed to point out those special seasons in the 
 life of a Christian which require and call for our ut- 
 most diligence in keeping the heart : for though (as 
 was observed before) the duty binds always, and there 
 is no time or condition of life in which we may be 
 excused from this work, yet there are some signal 
 seasons, critical hours, requiring more than a common 
 vigilance over the heart. 
 
 Season I. Is the time of prosperity, when pro- 
 vidence smiles upon us, and dandles us upon its knee. 
 Now, Christian, keep thy heart with all diligence ; for 
 now it will be exceeding apt to grow secure, proud, 
 and earthly. Bernard saith, " To see a man humble 
 under prosperity, is one of the greatest rarities in the 
 world." Even a good Hezekiah could not hide a vain- 
 glorious temper under his temptation, and hence that 
 
85 
 
 caution to Israel : " And it shall be when the Lord 
 thy God shall have brought thee into the land which 
 he sware to thy fathers, to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, 
 to give the great and goodly cities which thou build- 
 est not, and houses full of good things which thou 
 filledst not," &c. Then beware lest thou forget the 
 Lord ; and indeed so it fell out, for " Jeshurun waxed 
 fat and kicked." 
 
 Now then, the first case will be this, namely, 
 
 Case I. How a Christian may keep his heart 
 from pride and carnal security, under the smiles of 
 providence, and confluence of creature-comforts. 
 
 There are seven choice helps to secure the heart 
 from the dangerous snares of prosperity, — the first is 
 this : 
 
 1. To consider the dangerous, ensnaring tempta- 
 tions attending a pleasant and prosperous condition. 
 Few, yea very iew^ of those that live in the pleasures 
 and prosperity of this world, escape everlasting per- 
 dition. " It is easier," saith Christ, " for a camel to 
 pass through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man 
 to enter into the kingdom of heaven;" and, " Not 
 many mighty, not many noble are called." It might 
 justly make us tremble when the Scripture tells us in 
 general, that few shall be saved ; much more when it 
 tells us, that of that rank and sort of which we are 
 speaking, but few shall be saved. When Joshua 
 called all the tribes of Israel to lot upon them for the 
 discovery of Achan, doubtless Achan feared; when 
 the tribe of Judah was taken, his fear increased; but 
 when the family of the Zarhites was taken, it was 
 time then to tremble. So, when the Scripture comes 
 so near as to tell us, that of such a sort of men very 
 
86 
 
 few shall escape, it is time to look about : Chrysos- 
 tom said, " I should wonder if any of the rulers be 
 saved." Oh, how many have been coached to hell in 
 the chariots of earthly pleasures, while others have 
 been whipped to heaven by the rod of affliction ! How 
 £ew, like the daughter of Tyre, come to Christ with a 
 gift ! how few among the rich entreat his favour ! 
 
 2. It may keep us yet more humble and watchful 
 in prosperity, if we consider, that among Christians 
 many have been much the worse for it. How good 
 had it been for some of them if they had never known 
 prosperity. When they were in a low condition, how 
 humble, spiritual, and heavenly were they ! but when 
 advanced, what an apparent alteration hath been upon 
 their spirits ! It was so with Israel, when they were 
 in a low condition in the wilderness : then Israel was 
 ** holiness to the Lord." But when they came into 
 Canaan, and were fed in a fat pasture, then, " we 
 are lords, we will come no more unto thee." Out- 
 ward gains are ordinarily attended with inward losses : 
 as in a low condition their civil employments were 
 wont to have a savour of their duties, so in an ex- 
 alted condition their duties commonly have a savour 
 of the world. He indeed is rich in grace, whose 
 graces are not hindered by his riches. There are but 
 few Jehoshaphats in the world of whom it is said, 
 " He had silver and gold in abundance, and his heart 
 was lifted up in the way of God's commands." Will 
 not this keep thy heart humble in prosperity, to think 
 how dear many godly men have paid for their riches ; 
 that through them they have lost that which all the 
 world cannot purchase ? Then, in the next place, 
 
 3. Keep down thy vain heart by this considera- 
 
87 
 
 tion, that God values not a man a jot the more for 
 these things, God values no man by outward ex- 
 cellencies, but by inward graces : they are the in- 
 ternal ornaments of the spirit, which are of great 
 price in God's eyes. He despises all worldly glory, 
 and excepts no man's person ; " but in every nation, 
 he that feareth God, and worketh righteousness, is ac- 
 cepted of him." Indeed, if the judgment of God 
 went by the same rule that man's doth, we might 
 value ourselves by these things, and stand upon them. 
 But as one said, when dying, " I shall not appear be- 
 fore God as a doctor, but as a man :" so much every 
 man is, and no more, as he is in the judgment of 
 God. Doth thy heart yet swell ? and will either of 
 the former considerations keep it humble ? 
 
 4. Then fourthly. Consider how bitterly many 
 persons have bewailed their folly when they came to 
 die, that ever they set their hearts upon these things, 
 and heartily wished that they had never known them. 
 What a sad story was that of Pius Quintus, who, 
 dying, cried out despairingly, ' When I was in a low 
 condition, I had some hopes of salvation ; but when 
 I was advanced to be cardinal, I greatly doubted it ; 
 but since I came to the popedom, I have no hope at 
 all.' Mr. Spencer also tells us a real, but sad story, 
 of a rich oppressor, who had scraped up a great estate 
 for his only son. When he came to die, he called his 
 son to him, and said. Son, do you indeed love me ? 
 The son answered, That nature, besides his paternal in- 
 dulgence, obliged him to that. Then, said the father, 
 express it by this : hold thy finger in the candle as 
 long as I am saying a Pater Noster, The son at- 
 tempted, but could not endure it. Upon that the 
 
88 
 
 father broke out into these expressions : Thou canst 
 not suffer the burning of thy finger for me, but to get 
 this wealth I have hazarded *my soul for thee, and 
 must burn body and soul in hell for thy sake ; thy 
 pain would have been but for a moment, but mine 
 will be unquenchable fire. 
 
 5. The heart may be kept humble, by considering 
 of what a clogging nature earthly things are to a soul 
 heartily engaged in the way to heaven : they shut out 
 much of heaven from us at present, though they may 
 not shut us out of heaven at last. If thou consider 
 thyself under the notion of a stranger in this world, 
 travelling for heaven, and seeking a better country, 
 thou hast then as much reason to be taken and de- 
 lighted with these things, as a weary horse hath with 
 a heavy cloak-bag. There was a serious truth in that 
 atheistical scoff of JuHan, when he took away the 
 Christian's estates, and told them, it was to make 
 them fitter for the kingdom of heaven. 
 
 6. Is thy spirit, for all this, flatulent and lofty ? 
 Then urge upon it the consideration of that awful 
 day of reckoning, wherein, according to our receipts 
 of mercies shall be our accounts for them : and me- 
 thinks this should awe and humble the vainest heart 
 that ever was in the breast of a saint. Know for 
 certain, that the Lord records all the mercies that ever 
 he gave thee, from the beginning to the end of thy 
 life : " Remember, O my people, from Shittim unto 
 Gilgal," &c. Yea, they are exactly numbered and 
 recorded, in order to an account; and thy account will 
 be suitable — " To whomsoever much is given, of him 
 much shall be required." You are but stewards, and 
 your Lord will come to take an account of you. And 
 
89 
 
 what a great account have you to make, who have 
 much of this world in your hand ! What swift wit- 
 nesses will your mercies be against you, if this be the 
 best fruits of them ! 
 
 7. It is a very humbling consideration, that the 
 mercies of God should work otherwise upon my spirit 
 than they use to do upon the spirits of others, to 
 whom they come as sanctified mercies from the love 
 of God. Ah, Lord, what a sad consideration is this ! 
 Enough to lay me in the dust; when I consider, 
 
 1st, That their mercies have greatly humbled 
 them : the higher God has raised them, the lower 
 they have laid themselves before God. Thus did 
 Jacob when God had given him much substance : 
 " And Jacob said, I am not worthy of the least of all 
 thy mercies, and of all the truth which thou hast 
 showed unto thy servant, for with my staff I passed 
 over this Jordan, and now I am become two bands." 
 And thus it was with holy David. When God had 
 confirmed the promise to him, to build him a house, 
 and not reject him as he did Saul, he goes in before 
 the Lord, and saith, " Who am 1? and what is my 
 father's house, that thou hast brought me hitherto ?" 
 And so indeed God required. When Israel was to 
 bring to God the first-fruits of Canaan, they were to 
 say, " A Syrian, ready to perish, was my father," &c. 
 Do others raise God the higher for the raising them ? 
 And the more God raises me, the more shall I abuse 
 him and exalt myself? Oh what a sad thing is this ! 
 
 2d, Others have freely ascribed the glory of all 
 their enjoyments to God, and magnified not them- 
 selves, but him, for their mercies : so David said, 
 " Let thy name be magnified, and the house of thy 
 
90 
 
 servant be established." He doth not fly upon the 
 mercy, and suck out the sweetness of it, looking no 
 farther than his own comfort : no, he cares for no 
 mercy except God be magnified in it. So, when God 
 had delivered him from all his enemies, " The Lord," 
 saith he, " is my strength and my rock, he is become 
 my salvation." They did not put the crown upon 
 their own heads as I do. 
 
 3d, The mercies of God hath been melting mer- 
 cies unto others, melting their souls in love to the 
 God of their mercies. So Hannah, when she re- 
 ceived the mercy of a son — " My soul," saith she, 
 " rejoiceth in the Lord ; not in the mercy, but in the 
 God of the mercy :" and so Mary said, " My soul 
 doth magnify the Lord, ray spirit rejoiceth in God 
 my Saviour." The word signifies, to ' make more 
 room* for God ; their hearts were not contracted, but 
 the more enlarged to God. 
 
 4th, The mercies of God have been mighty re- 
 straints to keep others from sin. " Seeing thou our 
 God hast given us such a deliverance as this, should 
 we again break thy commandments ?" Ingenuous 
 souls have felt the force of the obligations of love and 
 mercy upon them. 
 
 5th, To conclude : the mercies of God to others 
 have been as oil to the wheels of their obedience, and 
 made them fitter for service, 2 Chron. xvii. 5. Now, 
 if mercies work contrarily upon my heart, what cause 
 have I to be afraid that they come not to me in love ? 
 I tell you, this is enough to damp the spirit of any 
 saint, to see what sweet effects they have had on 
 others, and what sad effects on him. 
 
 Season II, The second special season in the 
 
91 
 
 life of a Christian, requiring more than a common 
 diligence to keep his heart, is the time of adversity. 
 When providence frowns upon you, and blasts your 
 outward comforts, then look to your hearts, keep 
 them with all diligence from repining against God, 
 or fainting under his hand; for troubles, though 
 sanctified, are troubles still, even sweet-brier and 
 holly thistles have their prickles. Jonah was a good 
 man, and yet how pettish was his heart under afflic- 
 tion ! Job was the mirror of patience, yet how was 
 his heart discomposed by trouble ! You will find it 
 as hard to get a composed spirit under great afflictions, 
 as it is to fix quicksilver. Oh the hurries and tumults 
 which they occasion even in the best hearts ! Well 
 then, the second case will be this : 
 
 Case II. How a Christian, under great afflic- 
 tions, may keep his heart from repining or despond- 
 ing under the hand of God. Now, there are nine 
 special helps I shall here offer to keep thy heart in 
 this condition ; and the first shall be this, to work 
 upon your hearts this great truth — 
 
 Help 1. That by these cross providences, God is 
 faithfully pursuing the great design of electing love 
 upon the souls of his people, and orders all these 
 afflictions as means sanctified to that end. 
 
 Afflictions fall not out by casualty, but by coun- 
 sel. Job V. 6, Eph. i. 11. By this counsel of God 
 they are ordained as means of much spiritual good to 
 saints. " By this therefore shall the iniquity of 
 Jacob be purged," &c. Isa. xxvii. 9. " But he for 
 our profit," &c. Heb. xii. 10. " All things work to- 
 gether for good," Rom. viii. 28. They are God's 
 workmen upon our hearts, to pull down the pride and 
 
92 
 
 carnal security of them ; and being so, their nature is 
 changed : they are turned into blessings and benefits. 
 " It is good for me that I have been afflicted." And 
 surely then, thou hast no reason to quarrel with, but 
 rather to admire that God should concern himself so 
 much in thy good, to use any means for the accom- 
 plishing of it. Paul could bless God, "if by any 
 means he might attain the resurrection of the dead." 
 *' My brethren," saith James, " count it all joy when 
 you fall into divers temptations." My father is 
 about a design of love upon my soul, and do I well 
 to be angry with him ? All that he doth is in pur- 
 suance of, and in reference to, some eternal glorious 
 ends upon my soul. Oh, it is my ignorance of God's 
 design, that makes me quarrel with him ! He saith 
 to thee in this case, as to Peter, " What I do thou 
 knowest not now, but hereafter thou shalt know it." 
 Help 2. Though God hath reserved to himself 
 a liberty of afflicting his people, yet he hath tied up 
 his own hands by promise, never to take away his 
 loving-kindness from them. Can I look that Scrip- 
 ture in the face with a repining discontented spirit, 
 " I shall be his father, and he will be my son : if he 
 commit iniquity, I will chasten him with the rod of 
 men, and with the stripes of the children of men ; 
 nevertheless my mercy shall not depart away from 
 him." O my heart, my haughty heart ! dost thou 
 well to be discontented, when God hath given thee 
 the whole tree, with all the clusters of comfort grow- 
 ing on it, because he suffers the wind to blow down 
 a few leaves ? Christians have two sorts of ffoods— 
 the goods of the throne, and the goods of the foot* 
 stool ; moveables and immoveables. If God have se* 
 
93 
 
 cured these, never let my heart be troubled at the 
 loss of those. Indeed, if he had cut off his love, or 
 discovenanted my soul, I had reason to be cast down ; 
 but this he hath not, nor can he do it. 
 
 Help 3. It is of marvellous efficacy to keep the 
 heart from sinking under affliction, to call to mind 
 that thine own Father hath the ordering of them : 
 not a creature moves hand or tongue against thee, 
 but by his permission. Suppose the cup be a bitter 
 cup, yet it is the cup which thy Father hath given 
 thee to drink ; and canst thou suspect poison to be in 
 that cup which he delivers thee ? Foolish man ! put 
 home the case to thine own heart, consult with thine 
 own bowels : canst thou find in thy heart to give thy 
 child that which would hurt or undo him? No, 
 thou wouldst as soon hurt thyself as him : " If thou 
 then being evil, knowest how to give good gifts to 
 thy children," how much more doth God? The 
 very consideration of his nature-^a God of love, 
 pity, and tender mercies — or of his relation to thee, 
 as a father, husband, friend; might be security 
 enough, if he had not spoken a word to quiet thee in 
 this case ; and yet you have his word too : " I will 
 do you no hurt." You lie too near his heart to hurt 
 you : nothing grieves him more than your groundless 
 and unworthy suspicions of his designs do. Would it 
 not grieve a faithful tender-hearted physician, when 
 he hath studied the case of his patient, prepared the 
 most excellent receipts to save his life, to hear him 
 cry out : " Oh he hath undone me, he hath poisoned 
 me ;" because it gripes and pains him in the opera- 
 tion ? Oh, when will you be ingenuous ! 
 
 Help 4. God respects you as much in a low, as 
 
94 
 
 in a high condition; and therefore, it need not so 
 much trouble you to be made low: nay, to speak 
 home^ he manifests more of his love, grace, and ten- 
 derness, in the time of affliction than prosperity. As 
 God did not at first choose you because you were 
 high, so he will not forsake you because you are low. 
 Men may look shy upon you, and alter their respects 
 as your condition is altered. When providence 
 hath blasted your estates, your summer friends may 
 grow strange, as fearing you may be troublesome to 
 them ; but will God do so ? No, no : I will " never 
 leave thee nor forsake thee." Indeed, if adversity 
 and poverty could bar you from access to God, it were 
 a sad condition ; but you may go to God as freely as 
 ever : " My God," saith the church, " will hear me." 
 Poor David, when stripped of all earthly comforts, 
 could yet encourage himself in the Lord his God, 
 and why cannot you? Suppose your husband or 
 child had lost all at sea, and should come to you in 
 rags ; could you deny the relation, or refuse to en- 
 tertain him ? If you would not, much less will God. 
 Why then are you so troubled ? though your condi- 
 tion be changed, your Father's love and respects are 
 not changed. 
 
 Help 5. And what if, by the loss of outward 
 comforts, God will preserve your souls from the ruin- 
 ing power of temptation — surely then you have little 
 cause to sink your hearts by such sad thoughts about 
 them. Are not these earthly enjoyments the things 
 that make men shrink and warp in times of trial ? 
 For the love of these, many have forsaken Christ in 
 such an hour : " He went away sorrowful, for he had 
 great possessions." And if this be God's design, 
 
95 
 
 what have I done in quarrelling with him about it ? 
 We see mariners in a storm can throw overboard 
 rich bales of silk, and precious things, to preserve the 
 vessel and their lives with it, and every one saith they 
 act prudently. We know it is usual for soldiers, in 
 a city besieged, to batter down and burn the fairest 
 buildings without the walls, in which the enemy may 
 shelter in the siege, and no man doubts but it is 
 wisely done. Such as have gangrened legs or arms, 
 can willingly stretch them out to be cut off, and not 
 only thank, but pay the chirurgeon for his pains. 
 And must God be repined at for casting over what 
 would sink you in a storm ? for pulling down that 
 which would advantage your enemy in the siege of 
 temptation ? for cutting off what would endanger 
 your everlasting life ? O inconsiderate, ungrateful 
 man ! Are not these things for which thou grievest, 
 the very things that have ruined thousands of souls ? 
 Well, what Christ doth in this thou knowest not 
 now, but hereafter thou may est. 
 
 Help 6. It would much stay the heart under ad- 
 versity, to consider, that God, by such humbling 
 providences, may be accomplishing that joy for which 
 you have long prayed and waited ; and should you 
 be troubled at that ? Say, Christian, hast thou not 
 many prayers depending before God upon such ac- 
 counts as these, — that he would kill and mortify thy 
 lusts ; that thy heart may never find rest in any en- 
 joyment but Christ ? Why now, by such humbling 
 and impoverishing strokes, God may be fulfilling thy 
 desires. Wouldst thou be kept from sin ? Lo, " he 
 hath hedged up thy way with thorns." Wouldst thou 
 see the creature's vanity? Thy affliction is a fair 
 
96 
 
 glass to discover it ; for the vanity of the creature is 
 never so effectually and sensibly discovered, as in our 
 own experience of it. Wouldst thou have thy cor- 
 ruptions mortified ? This is the way — now God 
 takes away the food and fuel that maintained them ; 
 for, as prosperity begat and fed them, so adversity, 
 when sanctified, is a means to kill them. Wouldst 
 thou have thy heart to rest no where but in the 
 bosom of God ? What better way canst thou ima- 
 gine Providence should take to accomplish thy de- 
 sire, than by pulHng from under thy head that soft 
 pillow of creature-delights on which thou restedst 
 before? And yet you fret at this. Peevish child ! how 
 dost thou exercise thy Father's patience ! If he delay 
 to answer thy prayers, thou art ready to say, he re- 
 gards thee not. If he do that which really answers 
 the scope and main end of them, but not in the way 
 thou expectedst, thou quarrellest with him for that, 
 as if, instead of answering, he were crossing all thy 
 hopes and aims. Is this ingenuous ? Is it not 
 enough, that God is so gracious to do what thou de- 
 sirest, but thou must be so imprudent to expect he 
 should do it in the way which thou prescribest ? 
 
 Help 7. Again, it may stay thy heart, if thou 
 consider, that in these troubles God is about that 
 work which, if thou didst see the design of, thy soul 
 would rejoice. We poor creatures are bemisted with 
 much ignorance, and are not able to discern how par- 
 ticular providences work toward God's end ; and 
 therefore, like Israel in the wilderness, are often mur- 
 muring, because Providence leads us about in a 
 howling desert, where we are exposed to straits; 
 though yet, then he led them, and is now leading us. 
 
97 
 
 " by the right way to a city of habitations." If 
 you could but see how God, in his secret counsel, 
 hath exactly laid the whole plot and design of thy 
 salvation, even to the smallest means and circum- 
 stances : This way, and by these means, such a one 
 shall be saved, and by no other : such a number of 
 afflictions I appoint for this man, at this time, and in 
 this order : they shall befall him thus, and thus they 
 shall work for him ; — could you, I say, but discern 
 the admirable harmony of divine dispensations, their 
 mutual relations to each other, together with the 
 general respect and influence they all have to the last 
 end — of all the conditions in the world, you would 
 choose that you are now in, had you liberty to make 
 your own choice. Providence is like a curious piece 
 of arras, made up of a thousand shreds, which, single, 
 we know not what to make of; but put together, and 
 stitched up orderly, they represent a beautiful history 
 to the eye. As God works all things according to 
 the counsel of his own will, so that counsel of God 
 hath ordained this as the best way to bring about 
 thy salvation : Such a one hath a proud heart ; so 
 many humbling providences I appoint for him : such 
 a one an earthly heart ; so many impoverishing pro- 
 vidences for him. Did you but see this, I need say 
 no more to support the most dejected heart. 
 
 Help 8. Farther, it would much conduce to the 
 settlement of your hearts, to consider. That by fret- 
 ting and discontent you do yourselves more injury than 
 all the afflictions you lie under could do. Your own 
 discontent is that which arms your troubles with a 
 sting; it is you that makes your burden heavy, by 
 strugglmg under it : could you but lie quiet under 
 E 60 
 
98 
 
 the hand of God, your condition would be much 
 easier and sweeter than it is. Tliis makes God lay 
 on more strokes, as a father will upon a stubborn 
 child that receives not correction. 
 
 Besides, it unfits the soul to pray over its troubles, 
 or take in the sense of that good which God intends 
 by them. Affliction is a pill, which, being wrapt up 
 in patience and quiet submission, may be easily swal- 
 lowed : but discontent chews the pill, and so imbit- 
 ters the soul. God throws away some comfort which 
 he saw would hurt you, and you will throw away your 
 peace after it; he shoots an arrow which sticks in 
 your clothes, and was never intended to hurt, but only 
 to frighten you from sin ; and you will thrust it onward 
 to the piercing of your very hearts by despondency 
 and discontent. 
 
 Help 9. Lastly, If all this will not do, but thy 
 heart, like Rachel, still refuses to be comforted or 
 quieted, then consider one thhig more, which, if se- 
 riously pondered, wull doubtless do the work, and 
 that is this : Compare the condition thou art now 
 in, and art so much dissatisfied with, with that con- 
 dition others are, and thyself deservest to be in. 
 Others are roaring in flames, howling under the 
 scourtre of ven<xeance, and amono;st them I deserve 
 to be. O my soul, is this hell ? Is my condition 
 as bad as the damned? O what would thousands 
 now in hell ffive to change conditions with me ! It 
 is a famous instance which Dr. Taylor * gives us of 
 the duke of Conde : " I have read," saith he, " that 
 when the duke of Conde had entered voluntarily 
 
 • Great Exemp. p. 310. 
 
99 
 
 into the incommodities of a religious poverty, he was 
 one day espied and pitied by a lord of Italy, who, out 
 of tenderness, wished hira to be more careful and 
 nutritive of his person. The good duke answered, 
 Sir, be not troubled, and think not that I am ill pro- 
 vided of conveniences, for I send a harbin^'er before 
 me, who makes ready my lodgings, and takes care 
 that 1 be royally entertained. The lord asked him 
 who was his harbinger ? He answered, the know- 
 ledge of myself, and the consideration of what I de- 
 serve for my sins, which is eternal torments ; and 
 when with this knowledge I arrive at my lodging, 
 how unprovided soever I find it, methinks it is ever 
 better than I deserve." " Why doth the living 
 man complain ?" And thus the heart may be kept 
 from desponding or repining under adversity. 
 
 Season III. The third season calling for more 
 than ordinary diligence to keep the heart, is the time 
 of Sion's troubles. When the church, like the ship 
 in which Christ and his disciples were, is oppressed 
 and ready to perish in the waves of persecution, then 
 good souls are ready to sink, and be shipwrecked too 
 upon the billows of their own fears. I confess, most 
 men rather need the spur than the reins in this case, 
 and yet some sit down as overweighed with the 
 sense of the church's troubles. The loss of the 
 ark cost old Eli his life; the sad posture Jerusalem 
 lay in, made good Nehemiah's countenance change 
 in the midst of all the pleasures and accommoda- 
 tions of the court. Ah ! this goes close to honest 
 hearts. 
 
 But though God allow, yea, command the most 
 awakened apprehensions of these calamities, and in 
 E 2 
 
100 
 
 such a day calls to " mourning, weeping, and girding 
 with sackcloth," and severely threatens the insensi- 
 ble; yet it will not please him to see you sit like 
 pensive Elijah under the juniper tree, " Ah ! Lord 
 God, it is enough, take away my life also :" no, 
 mourners in Sion you may and ought to be, but 
 self-tormentors you must not be; complain to God 
 you may, but to complain of God, though by an 
 unsuitable carriage, and the language of your actions, 
 you must not. 
 
 Case III. The third case that comes next to be 
 spoken to is this : How public and tender hearts 
 may be relieved and supported when they are even 
 overweighed with the burdensome sense of Sion's 
 troubles. — I grant it is hard for him that pre- 
 ferreth Sion to his chief joy, to keep his heart that it 
 sink not below the due sense of its troubles, and yet 
 this ought and may be done by the use of such heart- 
 establishing directions as these : — 
 
 Direct. 1. Settle this great truth in your hearts, 
 that no trouble befalls Sion but by the permis- 
 sion of Sion's God ; and he permits nothing out of 
 which he will not bring much good at last to his 
 people. 
 
 There is truly a principle of quietness in the per- 
 mitting, as in the commanding will of God. See it 
 in David : " Let him alone, it may be God hath 
 bidden him." And in Christ : " Thou couldst have 
 no power against me, except it were given thee from 
 above." It should much calm our spirits, that it is 
 the will of God to suffer it ; and had he not suffered 
 it, could never have been as it is. 
 
 This very consideration quieted Job, Eli, David, 
 
101 
 
 and Hezekiah ; that the Lord did it was enough to 
 them. And why should it not be so to us ? If the 
 Lord will have Sion ploughed as a field, and her 
 goodly stones lie in the dust ; if it be his pleasure 
 that Antichrist shall rage yet longer, and wear out 
 the saints of the Most High ; if it be his will, that a 
 day of trouble, and of treading down, and of per- 
 plexity, by the Lord God of hosts, shall be upon the 
 valley of vision; that the wicked shall devour the man 
 that is more righteous than he — what are we that we 
 should contest with God? Fit it is that we should 
 be resigned up to that will whence we proceeded ; and 
 that he that made us should dispose of us as he 
 pleaseth. He may do what seemeth him good with- 
 out our consent. Doth poor man stand upon equal 
 ground that he should capitulate with his Creator, or 
 that God should render him an account of any of his 
 matters ? It is every way as reasonable we be con- 
 tent however God dispose of us, as that we be obe- 
 dient to whatever he commands us. 
 
 But then, if we pursue this argument farther, by 
 considering that God's permissions do all meet at last 
 in the real good of his people, this will much more 
 quiet our spirits. Do the enemies carry away the 
 good figs, even the best among the people, into cap- 
 tivity ? This looks like a sad providence ; but yet 
 God sends them thither for their good. Doth God 
 take the Assyrians as a staff in his hand to beat his 
 people with ? Those blows are smart, and make them 
 cry; but the end of his so doing is, " that he may 
 accomplish his whole work upon mount Sion." If 
 God can bring much good out of the worst and 
 greatest evil of sin, much more out of temporal af- 
 
102 
 
 flictions ; and it is as evident that he will, as that he 
 can do so. For it is inconsistent with the wisdom of 
 a common agent, to permit any thing (which he 
 might prevent if he please) to cross his great design 
 and end ; and can it be imagined that the most wise 
 God should do so ? 
 
 Well then, as Luther told Melancthon, Desinat 
 Philippus esse rector mimdi ; so say I to you, let in- 
 finite wisdom, power, and love alone — for by these 
 all creatures are swayed, and actions guided, in re- 
 ference to the church. It is none of our work to rule 
 the world, but to submit to him that doth ; the mo- 
 tions of providence are all judicious, the wheels are 
 full of eyes : it is enough that the affairs of Sion are 
 in a good hand. 
 
 Direct. 2. Ponder this heart-supporting truth, in 
 reference to Sion's trouble, That how many troubles 
 soever are upon her, yet her King is in her. 
 
 What ! hath the Lord forsaken his churches ? 
 hath he sold them into the enemy's hand? doth he 
 not regard what evil befalls them? that our hearts 
 sink at this rate. Is it not too shameful an under- 
 valuing of the great God, and too much magnifying 
 of poor impotent men, to fear and tremble at crea- 
 tures, whilst God is in the midst of us ? The church's 
 enemies are many and mighty — let that be granted ; 
 yet that argument with which Caleb and Joshua 
 strove to raise their own hearts, is of as much force 
 now as it was then : " The Lord is with us ; fear 
 them not." The historian tells us, that when Anti- 
 gonus overheard his soldiers reckoning how many 
 their enemies were, and so discouraging one another, 
 he suddenly steps in among them with this question, 
 
103 
 
 " And how many," said he, " do you reckon me 
 for?" Discouraged souls ! how many do you reckon 
 the Lord for ? Is he not an overmatch for all his 
 enemies? Is not one Almighty more than many 
 mighties? Doth his presence stand for nothing 
 with us? " If God be for us, who can be against 
 us ?" What think you was the reason of that great 
 exploration Gideon made in Judges vi. ? He ques- 
 tions, ver. 12, 13. ; he desires a sign, ver. IT. ; and 
 after that another, ver. 36. And what was the end 
 of all this, but that he might but write this motto 
 upon his ensign, *' The sword of the Lord and of 
 Gideon ?" So then, if you can be well assured the 
 Lord is with his people, you will get thereby above 
 all your discouragements : and that he is so, you need 
 not, with him, divine a sign from heaven ; lo, you have 
 a sign before you, even their marvellous preservation 
 amidst all their enemies. If God be not with his 
 people, how is it they are not swallowed up ? Do 
 their enemies want malice, power, or opportunity? 
 No ; but there is an invisible hand upon them. Well 
 then, as it is, let his presence give us rest ; and though 
 the mountains be hurled into the sea, though heaven 
 and earth mingle together, fear not, God is in the 
 midst of her, she shall not be moved. 
 
 Direct. 3. Ponder the great advantages attending 
 the people of God in an afflicted condition. — If a low 
 and an afflicted state in the world be really best for 
 the church, then your dejections are not only irra- 
 tional, but ungrateful. Indeed, if you estimate the 
 happiness of the church by its worldly ease, splen- 
 dour, and prosperity, then such times will seem bad 
 for it ; but if you reckon its glory to consist in its 
 
104 
 
 humiiity, faith, patience, and heavenly-mindedness, 
 no condition in the world abounds with advantages 
 for these as an afflicted condition doth. It was not 
 persecutions and prisons, but worldliness and wanton- 
 ness, that was the poison of the church; neither was 
 it the earthly glory of its professors, but the blood of 
 its martyrs, that was the seed of the church. The 
 power of godhness did never thrive better than in 
 affliction, and never ran lower than in times of great- 
 est prosperity : " When we are left a poor and an af- 
 flicted people, then we learn to trust in the name of 
 the Lord." What say ye, sirs ? Is it indeed for 
 the saints' advantage to be weaned from the loves and 
 delights of ensnaring worldly vanities — to be quick- 
 ened and pricked forward with more haste to heaven 
 — to have clearer discoveries of their own hearts — -to 
 be taught to pray more fervently, frequently, spiri- 
 tually — to look and long for the rest to come more 
 ardently ? If these be for their advantage, experi- 
 ence teacheth us, that no condition is ordinarily blessed 
 with such fruits as these like an afflicted condition. 
 
 And is it well done, then, to repine and droop, 
 because your Father consults more the advantage of 
 your souls than the pleasing of your humours — be- 
 cause he will bring you a nearer way to heaven than 
 you are willing to go ? Is this a due requital of his 
 love, who is pleased so much to concern himself in 
 your welfare ? which is more than he will do for 
 thousands in the world, upon whom he will not lay a 
 rod, or spend an affliction for their good. But, alas ! 
 we judge by sense, and reckon things good or evil 
 according to what we for the present can taste and 
 feel in them. 
 
105 
 
 Direct. 4. Take heed that you overlook not the 
 many precious mercies which the people of God en- 
 joy amidst all their troubles. — It is a pity that our 
 tears, upon the account of our troubles, should so 
 blind our eyes that we should not see our mercies 
 and grounds of comfort. I will not insist upon the 
 mercy of having your lives given you for a prey, nor 
 yet upon the many outward comforts, temporal con- 
 veniences and accommodations, which you enjoy, even 
 above what Christ and his precious servants, of whom 
 the world was not worthy, ever had. 
 
 But what say you to pardon of sin, interest in 
 Christ, the covenant of promise, and an eternity of 
 happiness in the presence of God after a few days are 
 over ? O that ever a people entitled to such mercies 
 as these, should droop under any temporal affliction, 
 or be so much concerned for the frowns of men and loss 
 of trifles ! You have not the smiles of great men, 
 but you have the favour of the great God. You are, 
 it may be, cast back in your estates, but thereby 
 furthered in spirituals. You cannot live so plenti- 
 fully and easily as before, but still you may live as 
 holy and heavenly as ever. Will you then grieve 
 so much for these circumstantials, as to forget your 
 substantial ? Shall light troubles make you forget 
 weighty mercies ? Remember, the church's true riches 
 are laid out of the reach of all its enemies : they may 
 make you poor, but not miserable. What though 
 God do not distinguish, in his outward dispensations, 
 betwixt his own and others ? Yea, what though his 
 judgment single out the best, and spare the worst? 
 What though an Abel be killed in love, and a Cain 
 survive in hatred ; a bloody Dionysius die in his bed, 
 e3 
 
106 
 
 and a good Josiah fall in battle ? What thougli the 
 belly of the wicked be filled with hid treasures, and 
 the teeth of the saints broken with gravel stones? 
 Yet still here is much matter of praise : for electing 
 love has distinguished, though common providences 
 did not; and whilst prosperity and impunity slay the 
 wicked, even slaying and adversity shall benefit and 
 save the righteous. 
 
 Direct. 5. Believe that how low soever the church 
 be plunged under the waters of adversity, it shall 
 assuredly rise again. — Fear not ; for as sure as Christ 
 arose the third day, notwithstanding the seal and 
 watch that was upon him, so sure the church shall 
 arise out of all her troubles, and lift up its victorious 
 head over all its enemies. There is no fear of ruin- 
 ing that people that thrive by their losses, and mul- 
 tiply by being diminished. O be not too quick to 
 bury the church before she is dead ! Stay till 
 Christ hath tried his skill, before you give it up for 
 lost. The bush may be all in a flame, but shall never 
 be consumed, and that because of the good-will of 
 him that dwelleth in it. 
 
 Direct. 6. Record the famous instances of God's 
 care and tenderness over his people in former straits. 
 •—Christ hath not suffered it to be devoured yet, for 
 above these 1700 years the Christian church hath 
 lived in affliction, and yet it is not consumed : many 
 a wave of persecution hath gone over it, and yet it is 
 not drowned ; many designs to ruin it, and hitherto 
 none hath prospered. This is not the first time that 
 Hamans and Ahithophels have plotted its ruin ; that 
 a Herod hath stretched out his hand to vex it : still 
 it hath been preserved from, supported under, or de~ 
 
107 
 
 livered out of all its troubles. And is it not as dear 
 to God as ever ? Is he not as able to save it now as 
 formerly ? Though we know not whence deliverance 
 should arise, "yet the Lord knoweth how to deliver 
 the godly out of temptation." 
 
 Direct. 7. If you can fetch no comfort from any 
 of the former arguments, then, in the last place, try 
 whether you cannot draw some comfort out of your 
 very trouble. — Surely this trouble of yours is a good 
 argument of your integrity ; union is the ground of 
 sympathy : if you had not some rich adventure in that 
 ship, you would not tremble as you do when it is in 
 danger. Besides, this frame of spirit may afford you 
 this argument, that if you are sensible of the church's 
 troubles, Jesus Christ is much more sensible of, and 
 solicitous about it than you can be, and he will have 
 an eye of favour upon them that mourn for it, Isa. 
 Ivii. 18. 
 
 Season IV. The fourth special season of express- 
 ing our utmost diligence in keeping our hearts, is the 
 time of danger and public distraction. In such times 
 the best hearts are but too apt to be surprised by 
 slavish fear; it is not easy to secure the heart against 
 distraction in times of common destruction. If Syria 
 be confederate with Ephraim, how do the hearts of 
 the house of David shake, " even as the trees of the 
 wood which are shaken with the wind?" When 
 there are ominous signs in the heavens, "on the 
 earth distress of nations, with perplexity, the sea and 
 waves roaring, then the hearts of men fail for fear, 
 and for looking after those things which are coming 
 on the earth." Even as^ Paul himself may some- 
 times complain of fightings within, when there are 
 fears without, 2 Cor. vii. 5. 
 
108 
 
 But, my brethren, these things ought not to be so ; 
 saints should be of a more raised spirit. So was 
 David when his heart was kept in a good frame : 
 " The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall 
 I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life, of 
 whom shall I be afraid?" Let none but the ser- 
 vants of sin be the slaves of fear : kt them that have 
 delighted in evil, fear evil : O let not that which God 
 hath threatened as a judgment upon the wicked, ever 
 seize upon the breasts of the righteous : " I will 
 send," saith God," faintness into their hearts in the 
 land of their enemies, and the sound of a shaking leaf 
 shall chase them." O what poor-spirited men are 
 these to fly at a shaking leaf! which makes a plea- 
 sant, and not a terrible noise, and is in itself a kind 
 of natural music: but to a guilty conscience, the 
 whistling leaves are drums and trumpets. " But 
 God hath not given us the spirit of fear, but of love 
 and of a sound mind." A sound mind, as it stands 
 there in opposition to the spirit of fear, is an un- 
 wounded conscience, not infirmed by guilt : and this 
 should make a man as bold as a lion. I kiiow it 
 cannot be said of a saint, what God spake of Levia- 
 than, that he is made without fear. There is a na- 
 tural fear in every man, and it is as impossible to be 
 wholly put off, as the body itself is. It is a pertur- 
 bation of the mind rising from the apprehension of 
 approaching danger ; and as long as dangers can ap- 
 proach us, we shall find some perturbations within us. 
 It is not my purpose to commend to you a stoical 
 apathy, nor yet to take you off from such a degree 
 of cautional preventive fear as may fit you for trouble, 
 and be serviceable to your souls. There is a provi- 
 
109 
 
 dent fear that opens our eyes to foresee danger, and 
 quickens to a prudent and lawful use of means to 
 prevent it : such was Jacob's fear, Gen. xxxii. 7, 9, 
 10, Sec. But it is the fear of diffidence. I per- 
 suade you to keep your hearts from that tyrannical 
 passion which invades the heart in times of danger; 
 distracts, weakens, and unfits the heart for duty; 
 drives men upon unlawful means, and brings a snare 
 with it. Well then, the fourth case will be this : 
 
 Case IV. How a Christian may keep his heart 
 from distracting and tormenting fears in times of 
 great and threatening dangers. 
 
 Now, there are fourteen excellent rules or helps for 
 the keeping the heart from sinful fear when imminent 
 dangers threaten us ; and the first is this — 
 
 Rule 1. Look upon all the creatures as in the hand 
 of God, who manages them in all their motions; 
 limiting, restraining, and determining them all at his 
 pleasure. 
 
 Get this truth well settled by faith in your hearts, 
 it will marvellously guard them against slavish fears. 
 The first chapter of Ezekiel contains an admirable 
 scheme or draught of providence. There you may see 
 the living creatures who move the wheels, namely, 
 the great affairs and turnings of things here below, 
 coming unto Christ, who sits upon the throne, to re- 
 ceive new orders and instructions from him, ver. 24. 
 25, 26.; and in Rev. vi. you may read of white, 
 black, and red horses, which are nothing else but the 
 instruments which God employs in executing his 
 judgments in the world, as wars, pestilence, and 
 death : but when these horses are prancing and 
 trampling up and down the world, here is that may 
 
110 
 
 quiet our hearts, that God hath the reins in his 
 hand. Wicked men are sometimes Hke mad horses, 
 they would stamp the people of God under their feet, 
 but that the bridle of providence is in their lips, A 
 lion at liberty is terrible to meet, but who is afraid of 
 the lion in the keeper's hand ? 
 
 Rule 2. Remember that this God, in whose hand 
 all the creatures are, is your Father, and is much 
 more tender over you, than you are or can be over 
 yourselves : " He that toucheth you, touch eth the 
 apple of mine eye." — Let me ask the most timorous 
 woman, whether there be not a vast difference be- 
 tween the sight of a drawn sword in the hand of a 
 bloody Russian, and the same sword in the hand of 
 their own tender husband? As great a difference 
 there is in looking upon creatures by an eye of sense, 
 and looking on them as in the hand of your God by 
 an eye of faith : that is a sweet scripture to this pur- 
 pose — " Thy Maker is thine husband, the Lord of 
 Hosts is his name :" he is Lord of all the hosts of 
 careatures in the world. Who would be afraid to >• 
 pass through an army, though all the soldiers should T 
 turn their swords and guns towards him, if the gen- 
 eral of that army were his friend or father ? I have 
 met with an excellent story of a religious young man, 
 who being at sea with many other passengers in a 
 great storm, and they being half dead with fear, he 
 anly was observed to be very cheerful, as if he had 
 been but little concerned in that danger. One of 
 them demanding the reason of his cheerfulness, " Oh," 
 said he, " it is because the pilot of the ship is my 
 father." Consider Christ, first, as the King and su- 
 preme Lord over the providential kingdom ; and then, 
 
Ill 
 
 as your Head, Husband and Fricni, and thou wilt 
 quickly say, " Return unto thy rest, O my soul." 
 This truth will make you cease trembling, and cause 
 you to sing in the midst of dangers : " The Lord is 
 king of all the earth, sing ye praise with under- 
 standing ;" or, as the Hebrew word is, " eveiy one 
 that hath understanding;" namely, of this heart- 
 reviving and establishing doctrine of the dominion of 
 our Father over all the creatures. 
 
 Rule 3, Urge upon your hearts the express pro- 
 hibitions of Christ in this case ; and let your hearts 
 stand in awe of the violations of them. 
 
 He hath charged you not to fear : " When ye 
 shall hear of wars and commotions, see that you be 
 not terrified." And, " In nothing be terrified by 
 your adversaries." Yea, in Matth. x. 26, 28. 31. and 
 within the compass of six verses, our Saviour com- 
 mands us thrice, " not to fear man." Doth every 
 big word of proud dust and ashes make thee afraid ? 
 Doth the voice of a man make thee tremble ? And 
 shall not the voice of God ? If thou art of such a 
 fearful and timorous spirit, how is it that thou fearest 
 not to disobey the plain commands of Jesus Christ ? 
 Methinks the command of Christ should have as 
 much power to calm, as the voice of a poor worm to 
 terrify thy heart : " I, even I, am he that comforteth 
 you : who art thou, that thou shouldst be afraid of a 
 man that shall die, and of the son of man that shall 
 be made as the grass, and forgettest the Lord thy 
 Maker ?" We cannot fear creatures sinfully, till we 
 have forgotten God : did we remember what he is, 
 and what he hath said, we should not be of such 
 feeble spirits. Bring thy heart then to this dilemma 
 
112 
 
 in times of danger : If I let into my heart the slavish 
 fear of man, I must let out the reverential awe and 
 fear of God ; and dare I cast off the fear of the Al- 
 mighty for the frowns of a man ? shall I lift up proud 
 dust above the great God ? shall I run upon a cer- 
 tain sm, to shun a probable danger? Oh, keep thy 
 heart by this consideration. 
 
 Rule 4. Remember how much needless trouble your 
 vain fears have brought upon you formerly, and how 
 you have disquieted yourselves to no purpose : *' And 
 hast feared continually because of the oppressor, as if 
 he were ready to devour : and where is the fury of 
 the oppressor ?" He seemed ready to devour, but yet 
 you are not devoured : I have not brought upon you 
 the thing that ye feared : you have wasted your spi- 
 rits, disordered your souls, and weakened your hands, 
 and all this to no purpose. You might have all this 
 while enjoyed your peace, and possessed your souls 
 in patience. And here I cannot but observe a very 
 deep policy of Satan, managing a design against the 
 soul by these vain fears. I call them vain in regard 
 of the frustration of them by providence ; but cer- 
 tainly they are not in vain as to the end Satan aims 
 at in raising them ; for herein he acts as soldiers use 
 to do in the siege of a garrison, who, on purpose to 
 wear out the besieged by constant watchings, and 
 thereby unfit them to make resistance when they 
 storm it in earnest, do every night give them false 
 alarms, which, though they come to nothing, yet do 
 notably serve this further design of the enemy. O 
 when will you beware of Satan's devices ! 
 
 Rule 5. Consider solemnly, that though the 
 things you fear should really fall out, yet there is 
 more evil in your own fear than in the thing feared. 
 
113 
 
 And that, not only as the least evil of sin is worse 
 than the greatest evil of suffering ; but as this sinful 
 fear hath really more torment and trouble in it, than 
 is in that condition you are so much afraid of. Fear is 
 both a multiplying and a tormenting passion; it re- 
 presents troubles much greater than they are, and so 
 tortures and racks the soul much worse than when 
 the suffering itself comes. So it was with Israel at 
 the Red Sea : they cried out, and were sore afraid 
 till they put foot into the water, and then a passage 
 was opened through those waters which they thought 
 would have drowned them. Thus it is with us : we, 
 looking through the glass of carnal fear upon the 
 waters of trouble, the swellings of Jordan, cry out, 
 O they are unfordable ! we must needs perish in 
 them. But when we come into the midst of those 
 floods indeed, we find the promise made good : 
 " God will make a way to escape.'* Thus it was 
 with blessed Bilney, when he would make a trial, by 
 putting his finger to the candle ; and not able to en- 
 dure that, he cried out. What ! cannot I bear the 
 burning of a finger ? how then shall I be able to bear 
 the burning of my whole body to-morrow ? And 
 yet, when that morrow came, he could go cheerfully 
 into the flames, with that scripture in his mouth : 
 " Fear not : for I have redeemed thee, I have called 
 thee by thy name; thou art mine. When thou passest 
 through the waters, I will be with thee : when thou 
 walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burnt." 
 
 Rule 6. Consult the many precious promises which 
 are written for your support and comfort in all dangers. 
 
 These are your refuges, to which you may fly and 
 be safe : " When the arrows of danger fly by night, 
 
114 
 
 and destruction wasteth at noon-day." There are 
 particular promises suited to particular cases and exi- 
 gencies ; and there are general promises, reaching all 
 cases and conditions : such as these — " All things 
 shall work together for good," &c. And, " Though 
 a sinner do evil an hundred times, and his days be 
 prolonged, yet it shall be well with them that fear the 
 Lord," &c. Could you but believe the promises, your 
 hearts should be established. Could you but plead 
 them with God as Jacob did : " Thou saidst, I will 
 surely do thee good," &c. they would relieve you in 
 every distress. 
 
 Obj» But that promise was made personally, and 
 by name, to him : so are not these to me. 
 
 Ans, If Jacob's God be your God, you have 
 as good an interest in them as he had. The church, 
 a thousand years after that transaction betwixt God 
 and Jacob, applied that which God spake to him, as 
 if it had been spoken to themselves : " He found 
 him in Bethel, and there he spake with us." 
 
 Rule T. Quiet your trembling hearts by recording 
 and consulting your past experiences of the care and 
 faithfulness of God in former distresses. 
 
 These experiences are food for your faith in a 
 wilderness condition. By this David kept his heart 
 in time of danger, 1 Sam. xvii. 37. and Paul his, 
 2 Cor. i, 10. It was sweetly answered by Silentia- 
 rius, when one told him, that his enemies way-laid 
 him to take away his life, — * If God take no care of 
 me, how have I escaped hitherto ?' You may plead 
 with God old experiences to procure new ones ; for it 
 is in pleading with God for new deliverances, as it is 
 in pleading for new pardons. Now mark how Moses 
 
115 
 
 pleads on that account with God—" Pardon, I be- 
 seech thee, the iniquity of this people, as thou hast 
 forgiven them from Egypt until now." He doth 
 not say as men do — Lord, this is the first fault, thou 
 hast not been troubled before to sign their pardon : 
 but, Lord, because thou hast pardoned them so often, 
 I beseech thee pardon them once again. So in new 
 straits — Lord, thou hast often heard, helped, and 
 saved in former years, therefore now help again, for 
 with thee there is plenteous redemption, and thine 
 arm is not shortened. 
 
 Rule 8. Be well satisfied that you are in the way 
 of your duty, and that will beget holy courage in 
 times of danger. 
 
 " Who will harm you if you be followers of that 
 which is good ?" Or, if any dare attempt it, " you 
 may boldly commit yourselves to God in well-doing." 
 It was this consideration that raised Luther's spirit 
 above all fear : " Li the cause of God," said he, " I 
 ever am, and ever shall be stout : herein I assume this 
 title, Cedo niilli, — a good cause will bear up a man's 
 spirit bravely. Hear the saying of a heathen, to the 
 shame of cowardly Christians : — When the emperor 
 Vespasian had commanded Fluidius Priscus * not to 
 come to the senate, or if he did, to speak nothing 
 but what he would have him, the senator returned 
 this noble answer, " That as he was a senator, it 
 was fit he should be at the senate ; and if being there 
 he were required to give his advice, he would speak 
 freely that which his conscience commanded him." 
 The emperor threatening that then he should die, 
 
 * Char, of WisdoiHj p. 358. 
 
116 
 
 he answered, " Did I ever toll you that I was im- 
 mortal ? Do you what you will, and I will do what 
 I ought : it is in your power to put nic to death 
 unjustly, and in me to die constantly." 
 
 Ili<^htcousness is a breast-plate ; the cause of God 
 will pay all your expenses : let them tremble whom 
 danger finds out of the way of duty. 
 
 Rule 9. Get your consciences sprinkled with the 
 blood of Christ from all guilt, and that will set your 
 hearts above all fear. 
 
 It is guilt upon the conscience that softens and 
 cowardizes our spirits : the righteous are bold as a 
 lion. It was guilt in Cain's conscience that made 
 him cry, " Every one that meets me shall slay me." 
 A guilty conscience is more terrified with conceited 
 dangers, than a pure conscience is witli real ones. 
 A guilty sinner carries a witness against himself in 
 his own bosom. It was guilty Herod cried out, 
 " John the Baptist is risen from the dead." Such a 
 conscience is the devil's anvil, on which he fabricates 
 all those swords and spears with which the guilty 
 sinner pierces and wouiuls himself. Guilt is to dan- 
 ger, what fire is to gunpowder : a man need not fear 
 to walk among many barrels of powder if he have no 
 fire about him. 
 
 Rule 10. Exercise holy trust in times of great 
 distress. 
 
 Make it your business to trust God with your 
 lives and comforts, and then your hearts will be at 
 rest about them. So did David : " At what time I 
 am afraid, I will trust in thee :" q. d. Lord, if at any 
 time a storm rise, I will make bold to shelter from it 
 under the covert of thy wings. Go to God by acts 
 
117 
 
 of taith and trust, and never doubt but lie will secure 
 you: " Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose 
 mind is stayed on thee ; because he trusteth in thee." 
 Ciod takes it well when thou comest to him thus: 
 Father, my life, my liberty, or estate, arc hunted 
 after, and I cannot secure them ; O let mc leave 
 tlicm in thy hand : the poor leaveth himself with 
 tliee, and doth Ills God fail him ? No; thou art the 
 helper of the fatherless : that is, thou art the helper 
 of the destitute one, that hath none to ffo to but 
 God. And that is a sweet scripture, " He shall 
 not be afraid of evil tidinojs ; his heart is fixed, trust- 
 inir in the Lord :" he doth not say, His ear shall be 
 exempted from the report of evil tidinos, — he may 
 hear as sad tidings as other men, but his heart shall 
 be exempted from the terror of those tidinjvs: his 
 heart is fixed. 
 
 l\ule 11. Consult the honour of religion more, 
 and your personal safety less. 
 
 Is it for the honour of religion, think you, that 
 Christians should be as timorous as hares, to start at 
 every sound? Will not this tempt the world to 
 think, that, whatever you talk, yet your principles 
 are no better than other men's? O what mischief 
 may tlie discoveries of your fears before them do ! 
 It was a noble saying of Nehemiah, " Should such 
 a man as 1 fiee? and who, being as I am, would 
 Hee?" Were it not better you should die, than 
 that the world should be prejudiced against Christ by 
 your example? For, alas! how apt is the world 
 (who judge more by what they see in your practices, 
 than by what they understand of your principles) to 
 <.:onclude from your timorousness, that how much 
 
118 
 
 soever you commend faith, and talk of assurance, 
 yet you dare trust to these things no more than they 
 when it comes to the trial ! O let not your fears lay 
 such a stumbling-block before the blind world. 
 
 Rule 12. He who will secure his heart from fear, 
 must first secure the eternal interest of his soul in 
 the hands of Jesus Christ. 
 
 When this is done, then you may say, Now world, 
 do thy worst. You will not be very solicitous about 
 a vile body, when you are once assured it shall be 
 well to all eternity with your precious soul. " Fear 
 not them," saith Christ, " that can kill the body, 
 and after that have no more that they can do." The 
 assured Christian may smile with contempt upon all 
 his enemies, and say, Is this the worst that they can 
 do? What say you. Christians — are you assured 
 that your souls are safe, that within a few moments 
 of your dissolution they shall be received by Christ 
 into an everlasting habitation ? Well, if you be sure 
 of that, never trouble yourselves about the instru- 
 ments and means of your dissolution. 
 
 Obj. O, but a violent death is terrible to nature ! 
 
 Aiis, But what matter is it when thy soul is in 
 heaven, whether it were let out at thy mouth, or at 
 thy throat? whether thy familiar friends, or bar- 
 barous enemies stand about thy dead body and close 
 thine eyes ? Alas ! it is not worth the making so 
 much ado about : thy soul shall not be sensible in 
 heaven how thy body is used on earth ; no, it shall 
 be swallowed up in life. 
 
 Rule 13. Learn to quench all slavish creature 
 fears, in the reverential fear of God. 
 
 This is a cure by diversion : It is a rare piece of 
 
119 
 
 Christian wisdom to turn those passions of the soul 
 which most predominate into spiritual channels, to 
 turn natural anger into spiritual zeal, natural mirth 
 into holy cheerfulness, and natural fear into a holy 
 dread and awe of God. This method of cure Christ 
 prescribes in that forementioned place, Matt. x. 
 Like to which is that in Isa. viii. 12, 13. " Fear not 
 their fear." But how shall we help it ? why, " sanc- 
 tify the Lord of hosts himself, and let him be your 
 fear and your dread.'' Natural fear may be allayed 
 for the present by natural reason, or the removal of 
 the occasion ; but then, it is but like a candle blown 
 out with a puff of breath, which is easily blown in 
 again ; but if the fear of God extinguish it, then it 
 is like a candle quenched in water, which cannot be 
 rekindled. 
 
 Rule 14. Lastly, Pour out those fears to God in 
 prayer, which the devil and your own unbelief pour 
 in upon you in times of danger. 
 
 Prayer is the best out-let to fear. Where is the 
 Christian that cannot set his probatum est to this 
 direction ? I will give you the greatest example in 
 the world to discourage you in the use of it, even the 
 example of Jesus Christ. When the hour of his 
 danger and death drew nigh, he gets into the garden, 
 separates from the disciples, and then wrestles mightily 
 with God in prayer, even unto an agony; in refer- 
 ence to which the apostle saith, " Who in the days 
 of his flesh, when he had offered up prayers and sup- 
 plications, with strong cries and tears, to him that 
 was able to save him from death, and was heard in 
 that he feared." He was heard as to strength and 
 support to carry him through it, though not as to 
 deliverance or exemption from it. 
 
120 
 
 Now, O that these things might abide with you, 
 and be reduced to practice in these evil days, that 
 many trembhng souls may be established by tliem. 
 
 Season V. The fifth season to excite this dili- 
 gence in keeping the heart, is the time of straits 
 ^nd outward pinching wants. Although at such times 
 we should complain to God, and not of God, (the 
 throne of grace being erected for a time of need,) 
 yet, when the waters of relief run low, and want be- 
 gins to pinch hard, how prone are the best hearts to 
 distrust the fountain ! When the meal in the barrel, 
 and the oil in the cruse are almost spent, our faith and 
 patience are almost spent too. Now, it is difficult to 
 keep down the proud and unbelieving heart in a holy 
 quietude and sweet submission at the foot of God. 
 It is an easy thing to talk of trusting God for daily 
 bread, while we have a full barn or purse; but to 
 say as the prophet, " Though the fig-tree should 
 not blossom, neither fruit be in the vine," &c. " yet 
 ■will I rejoice in the Lord." Surely this is not easy. 
 The fifth case therefore shall be this : 
 
 Case V. How a Christian may keep his heart 
 from distrusting God, or repining against him when 
 outward wants are either felt or feared. 
 
 This case deserves to be seriously pondered, and 
 especially to be studied now, since it seems to be the 
 design of Providence, to empty the people of God of 
 their creature-fulness, and acquaint them with tliose 
 straits which hitherto they have been altogether 
 strangers to. 
 
 Now, to secure the heart from the foremen tioned 
 dangers attending this condition, these following con- 
 siderations, through the blessing of the Spirit, may 
 prove effectual. And the first is this : 
 
121 
 
 Consid. 1. That if God reduce you to straits and 
 necessities, yet he deals no otherwise therein with 
 you, than he hath done with some of the choicest 
 and hoUest men that ever lived. 
 
 Your condition is not singular ; though you have 
 hitherto been strangers to wants, other saints have 
 daily conversed, and been familiarly acquainted with 
 them. Hear what blessed Paul speaks, not of him- 
 self only, but in the name of other saints reduced to 
 like exigencies : " Even to this present hour we both 
 hunger, and thirst, and are naked, and are buffeted, 
 and have no certain dwelling-place." To see such 
 a man as Paul, going up and down the world with a 
 naked back and empty belly, and not a house to put 
 his head in ; one that was so far above thee in grace 
 and holiness, one that did more service for God in a 
 day, than perhaps thou hast done him all thy days, 
 and yet thou repine as if hardly dealt with ! Have 
 you forgot what necessities and straits even a David 
 hath suffered ? How great were his straits and ne- 
 cessities ! " Give, I pray thee," saith he to Nabal, 
 " whatsoever cometh to thy hand unto thy servants, 
 and to thy son David." Renowned Musculus was 
 forced to dig in the town-ditch for a maintenance. 
 Famous Ainsworth (as I have been credibly informed) 
 was forced to sell the bed he lay on to buy bread. 
 But what speak I of these ? Behold a greater than 
 any of them, even the Son of God, " who is the 
 heir of all things, and by whom the worlds were 
 made ;" yet sometimes would have been glad of any 
 thing, having nothing to eat : " And on the morrow, 
 when they were come from Bethany, he was hungry : 
 F 60 
 
122 
 
 and seeing a fig-tree afar off having leaves, he came, 
 it' haply he might find any thing thereon." 
 
 Well then, hereby God hath set no mark of ha- 
 tred upon you; neither can you infer the want of 
 love, from the want of bread. When thy repining 
 heart puts the question. Was there ever any sorrow 
 like unto mine ? Ask these worthies, and they will 
 tell thee, though they did not complain and fret as 
 thou dost, yet they were driven to as great straits as 
 thou art. 
 
 Consid. 2. If God leave you not in this necessi- 
 tous condition without a promise, you have no reason 
 to repine or despond under it. 
 
 That is a sad condition indeed, to which no pro- 
 mise belongs. I remember Mr. Calvin upon those 
 words, Isa. ix. 1. " Nevertheless, the dimness shall 
 not be such as was in her vexation," &c. solves the 
 doubt, in what sense the darkness of the captivity 
 was not so great, as the lesser incursions made by 
 Tiglath Pileser. In the captivity, the city was de- 
 stroyed, and the temple burnt with fire. There was 
 no comparison in the affliction ; but yet the darkness 
 should not be such, and the reason (saith he) is this: 
 there was a certain promise made to this, but none 
 to the other. 
 
 It is better to be as low as hell with a promise, than 
 in paradise without one. Even the darkness of hell 
 itself would be comparatively no darkness at all, were 
 there but a promise to enlighten it. Now God hath 
 left many sweet promises for the faith of his poor 
 people to feed on in this condition, such are these : 
 " O fear the Lord, ye his saints : for there is no 
 want to them that fear him. The lions do lack, and 
 
123 
 
 suffer hunger : but they that fear the Lord shall want 
 nothing that is good." " The eye of the Lord is 
 upon the righteous, to keep them ahve in famine." 
 " No good thing will be withheld from them that 
 walk uprightly." " He that spared not his own Son, 
 but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with 
 him also freely give us all things ?" " When the 
 poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and 
 their tongue faileth for thirst, I the Lord will hear 
 them, I the God of Israel will not forsake them." 
 Here you see, first, their extreme wants, water being 
 put even for the necessaries of life ; second, their 
 certain relief: " I the Lord will hear them;" in 
 which it is supposed, that they cry unto him in their 
 straits, and he hears their cry. 
 
 Having therefore these promises, why should not 
 your distrustful hearts conclude like David's, " The 
 Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want." 
 
 Obj. But these promises imply conditions, if they 
 were absolute they would afford more satisfaction. 
 
 Sol. What are those tacit conditions you speak ofi 
 but these — L That either he will supply or sanctify 
 vour wants. 2. That you shall have so much as 
 God sees fit for you. And doth this trouble you ? 
 Would you have the mercy whether sanctified or not ? 
 whether God sees it fit for you or not? Methinks 
 the appetites of saints after earthly things should not 
 be so ravenous, to seize greedily upon any enjoyment, 
 not caring how they have it. 
 
 But oh, when wants pinch, and we see not whence 
 
 supplies should come, then our faith in the promise 
 
 shakes, and we, like murmuring Israel, cry, " He 
 
 gave bread, can he give water also ?" O unbeliev- 
 
 F 2 
 
124 
 
 ing hearts! when did his promise fail? who ever 
 trusted them, and was ashamed ? May not God up- 
 hraid thee with thine unreasonable infideUty, as Jer. 
 ii. 31. " Have I been a wilderness unto you," &c. 
 or as Christ said to the disciples, " Since I was 
 with you, lacked ye any thing?" Yea, may you not 
 upbraid yourselves ? may you not say with good old 
 Polycarp, " These many years I have served Christ 
 and found him a good master." Indeed he may deny 
 your wantonness, but not what your real wants call 
 for ; he will not regard the cry of lusts, nor yet de- 
 spise the cry of your faith : though he will not in- 
 dulge and humour your wanton appetites, yet he will 
 not violate his own faithful promises. These promises 
 are your best security for eternal Hfe; and it is 
 strange if they should not satisfy you -for daily bread. 
 Remember ye the words of the Lord, and solace your 
 heart with them amidst all your wants. It is said of 
 Epicurus, that, in the dreadful fits of the cholic, he 
 often refreshed himself by calling to mind his inven- 
 tions in philosophy; and of Possidonius the philoso- 
 pher, that, in a great fit of the stone, he solaced him- 
 self with discourses of moral virtue; and when the 
 pain twinged him, he would say, " O pain, thou dost 
 nothing ; though thou art a little troublesome, I will 
 never confess thee to be evil." If upon such grounds 
 as these they could support themselves under such 
 grinding and racking pains, and even delude their 
 diseases by them — how much rather should the pre- 
 cious promises of God, and the sweet experiences 
 which have gone along step by step with them, make 
 you to forget all your wants, and comfort you in 
 every strait ! 
 
125 
 
 Consid. 3. If it be bad now, it might have been 
 worse. Hath God denied thee the comforts of this 
 life ? He might have denied thee Christ, peace and 
 pardon also, and then thy case had been woful indeed. 
 
 You know God hath done so to milhons in the 
 world. How many such wretched objects may our 
 eyes behold every day, that have no comfort in hand, 
 nor yet in hope ; are miserable here, and will be so 
 to eternity ; that have a bitter cup, and nothing to 
 sweeten it ; no, not so much as any hope that it will 
 be better ! But it is not so with you ; though you be 
 poor in this world, yet you are " rich in faith, and 
 heirs of the kingdom which God hath promised." O 
 learn to set spiritual riches over against temporal 
 poverty ! Balance all your present troubles with 
 your spiritual privileges. Indeed, if God had de- 
 nied your souls the robes of righteousness to clothe 
 them, the hidden manna to feed them, the heavenly 
 mansions to receive them; if your souls were left 
 destitute as well as your bodies, you might well be 
 pensive : but this consideration hath enough to bring 
 the considering soul to rest under any outward strait. 
 It was bravely said by Luther, when want began to 
 pinch him, " Let us be contented with our hard fate, 
 for do we not feast with angels upon Christ the bread 
 of life ?" " And blessed be God," saith Paul, " who 
 hath abounded to us in all spiritual blessings." 
 
 Consid. 4. This affliction, though great, is not 
 such an affliction but God hath far greater, with 
 which he chastises the dearly beloved of his soul in 
 this world ; and should he remove this, and inflict 
 those, you would account your present state a very 
 comfortable state, and bless God to be as now you are. 
 
126 
 
 What think ye, sirs ? Should God remove your 
 present troubles, supply all your outward wants, give 
 you the desire of your hearts in creature-comforts ; 
 but hide his face from you, shoot his arrows into your 
 souls, and cause the venom of them to drink up your 
 spirits, — should he leave you but a few days to the 
 buffeting of Satan and his blasphemous injection,— 
 should he hold your eyes out a few nights waking 
 with horrors of conscience, tossing to and fro till the 
 dawning of the day, — should he load you through 
 the chambers of death, show you the visions of dark- 
 ness, and make his terrors set themselves in array 
 against you, — then tell me if you would not count it 
 a choice mercy to be back again in your former ne- 
 cessitous condition, with peace of conscience; and 
 count bread and water, with God's favour, a happy 
 state ? O then, take heed of repining ! Say not 
 God deals hardly with you, lest you provoke him to 
 convince you, by your own sense and feeling, that he 
 hath worse rods than these for unsubmissive and fro- 
 ward children. 
 
 Consid. 5. If it be bad now, it will be better 
 shortly. 
 
 O keep thy heart by that consideration. The meal 
 in the barrel is almost spent; well, be it so, why 
 should that trouble me, if I am almost beyond the 
 need and use of all these things ? The traveller hath 
 spent almost all his money, but a shilling or two left : 
 well, saith he, though my money be almost spent, 
 yet my journey is almost finished too : I am near 
 home, and then I shall be fully supplied. If there 
 be no candles in the house, yet it is a comfort to 
 think that it is almost day, and then there will be no 
 
1^7 
 
 need of candles. I am afraid, Christian, thou mis- 
 reckonest thyself when thou thinkest thy provision is 
 almost spent, and you have a great way to travel; 
 many years to live, and nothing to live upon. It may 
 be not half so many as thou supposest. In tliis be 
 confident, if thy provision be spent, either fresh sup- 
 plies are coming, (though thou seest not from whence,) 
 or thou art nearer thy journey's end than thou reck- 
 onest thyself to be. Desponding soul ! doth it be- 
 come a man or woman, travelling upon the road to 
 that heavenly city, and almost arrived there, within a 
 few days' journey of his Father's house, where all his 
 wants shall be supplied, to take on thus about a little 
 meat, drink, or clothes, which he fears he shall want 
 by the way ? It was a noble saying of the forty 
 martyrs, famous in the ecclesiastical story; when 
 turned out naked in a frosty night to be starved to 
 death, with these words they comforted one another, 
 " The winter indeed is sharp and cold, but heaven is 
 warm and comfortable ; here we shiver for cold, but 
 Abraham's bosom will make amends for all." 
 
 Obj. 1. But I may die for want. 
 
 Sol. 1. Who ever did so ? When were the 
 righteous forsaken ? 2. If so, your journey is ended, 
 and you fully supplied. 
 
 Obj, 2. But I am not sure of that ; were I sure 
 of heaven, it were another matter. 
 
 Sol. Are you not sure of that ? Then you have 
 other matters to trouble yourselves about than these. 
 Methinks these should be the least of all your cares. 
 I do not find that souls perplexed and troubled about 
 the want of Christ, pardon of sin, &c. are usually 
 very anxious or solicitous about these things. He 
 
128 
 
 that seriously puts such questions as these, What 
 shall I do to be saved ? How shall I know my sin 
 is pardoned ? doth not usually trouble himself with, 
 " What shall I eat, what shall I drink, or wherewithal 
 shall I be clothed ?" 
 
 Consid. 6. Doth it become the children of such 
 a Father to distrust his all-sufficiency, or repine at 
 any of his dispensations ? 
 
 Do you well to question his care and love upon every 
 new exigency? Say, Have you not been ashamed 
 of this formerly ? Hath not your Father's seasonable 
 provisions for you in former straits, put you to the 
 blush, and made you resolve never to question his 
 love and care any more ; and yet will you renew your 
 unworthy suspicions of him again ? Disingenuous 
 child ! reason thus with thyself : If I perish for want 
 of what is good and needful for me, it must either be 
 because my Father knows not my wants, or hath not 
 wherewith to supply them, or else regards not what 
 becomes of me. Which of these shall I charge upon 
 him? Not the first; for " my Father knows what 
 I have need of, my condition is not hid from him." 
 Not the second ; for " the earth is the Lord's, and 
 the fulness of it." His name is God all-sufficient. 
 Not the last ; for " as a father pitieth his children, 
 so the Lord pities them that fear him." *' The 
 Lord is exceeding pitiful, and of tender mercy." 
 " He hears the young ravens when they cry," — and 
 will he not hear me? — " Consider," saith Christ, 
 " the fowls of the air :" not the fowls at the door, 
 that are every day fed by hand, but the fowls of 
 the air, that have none to provide for them. Doth 
 he feed and clothe his enemies, and will he forget 
 
129 
 
 his children ? He heard the very cry of Ishmael in 
 distress. O my unbeHeving heart ! dost thou yet 
 doubt ? Remember Hagar and the child. 
 
 Consid. 7. Your poverty is not your sin, but your 
 affliction only. If by sinful means you have not 
 brought it upon yourselves, and if it be but an afflic- 
 tion, it may be borne the easier for that. 
 
 It is hard indeed to bear an affliction coming upon 
 us as the fruit and punishment of sin. When men are 
 under trouble on that account, they use to say, O ! 
 if it were but a single affliction coming from the 
 hand of God by way of trial, I could bear it ; but I 
 have brought it upon myself by sin, it comes as the 
 punishment of sin, the marks of God's displeasure 
 are upon it, it is the guilt within that troubles and 
 galls more than the want without. 
 
 But it is not so here, and therefore you have no 
 reason to be cast down under it. 
 
 Obj. i. But though there be no sting of guilt, yet 
 this condition wants not other stings : as, first, the 
 discredit of religion — I cannot comply with mine 
 engagements in the world, and thereby religion is 
 like to suffer. 
 
 Sol. It is well you have a heart to discharge every 
 duty ; yet if God disable you by providence, it is no 
 discredit to your profession, because you do not that 
 which you cannot do, so long as it is your desire and 
 endeavour to do what you can and ought to do ; and 
 in this case God's will is, that lenity and forbearance 
 be exercised towards you, Deut. xxiv. 12, 13. 
 
 Obj, 2. But it grieves me to behold the neces- 
 sities of others whom I was wont to relieve and re- 
 fresh, but now cannot. 
 
 f3 
 
130 
 
 Sol. If you cannot, it ceases to be your duty ; and 
 God accepts the drawing out of your soul to the 
 hungry in compassion and desire to help them, though 
 you cannot draw forth a full purse to relieve and sup- 
 ply them. 
 
 Ohj. 3. But I find such a condition full of temp- 
 tations, a sore clog in the way to heaven. 
 
 Sol. Every condition in the world hath its clogs 
 and attending temptations ; and were you in a pros- 
 perous condition, you might there meet with more 
 temptations and fewer advantages than now you have; 
 for though I confess poverty hath its temptations as 
 well as prosperity, yet I am confident prosperity hath 
 not those excellent advantages that poverty hath ; for 
 here you have an opportunity to discover the since- 
 rity of your love to God, when you can live upon 
 him, find enough in him, and constantly follow him, 
 even when all external inducements and motives fail. 
 And thus I have showed you how to keep your hearts 
 from the temptations and dangers attending a poor 
 and low condition in the world : when want pinches, 
 and the heart begins to sink, then improve and bless 
 God for these helps to keep it. 
 
 Season VI. The sixth season of expressing this 
 diligence in keeping the heart, is the season of duty. 
 When we draw nigh to God in public, private, or 
 secret duties, then it is time to look to the heart, for 
 the vanity of the heart seldom discovers itself more 
 than at such times. How oft doth the poor soul 
 cry out, O Lord, how fain would I serve thee, but 
 vain thoughts will not let me ! I came to open my 
 heart to thee, to delight my soul in communion with 
 thee, but my corruptions have set upon me. Lord, 
 
131 
 
 call oft* these vain thoughts, and suffer them not to 
 prostitute the soul, which is espoused to thee, hefore 
 thy face. The sixth case then is this : — 
 
 Case VI. How the heart may be kept from dis- 
 tractions by vain thoughts in the time of duty. 
 
 There is a twofold distraction, or wanderintj of 
 the heart, in duty. 1. Voluntary and habitual: 
 " They set not their hearts aright, and their spirit was 
 not steadfast with God." This is the case witli for- 
 malists, and it proceeds from the want of a holy bent 
 and inclination of the heart to God ; their hearts are 
 under the power of their lusts, and therefore it is no 
 wonder they go after their lusts, even when they are 
 about holy things, Ezek. xxxiii. 31. 2. Involuntary 
 and lamented distractions : " 1 find then a law, that 
 when I would do good, evil is present with me. O 
 wretched man that I am," &c. This proceeds not 
 from the want of a holy bent and aim, but from the 
 weakness and imperfection oF grace. And in this 
 case the soul may make the like complaint against its 
 own corruptions that Abijah did against Jeroboam : 
 " Yet Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, is risen up 
 against his lord, when Rehoboam was young and 
 tender-hearted, and could not withstand him, and 
 there are gathered unto him vain men, the children 
 of Belial." Grace hath dominion, but lusts are 
 mutinous and seditious during the infancy thereof. 
 But it is not my business to show you how these dis- 
 tractions come into the heart, but rather how to get 
 and keep them out of the heart. In order where- 
 unto take these ten following helps :— 
 
 Help 1. Sequester yourselves from all earthly 
 employments, and set apart some time for solemn 
 
132 
 
 preparation to meet God in duty. You cannot come 
 reeking hot out of the world into God's presence, 
 but you will find a tang of it in your duties. It is 
 with the heart a few minutes since plunged in the 
 world, now at the feet of God, just as with the sea 
 after a storm, which still continues working, muddy, 
 and disquiet, though the wind be laid and the storm 
 over : thy heart must have some time to settle. There 
 are few musicians that can take down a lute or viol, 
 and play presently upon it, without some time to 
 tune it : there are few Christians can presently say, 
 " O God, my heart is fixed, it is fixed." O ! when 
 thou goest to God in any duty, take thy heart aside, 
 and say, O my soul, I am now addressing myself to the 
 o-reatest work that ever a creature was employed about. 
 I am going into the awful presence of God about 
 business of everlasting moment. O my soul ! leave 
 trifling now ; be composed, watchful, serious : this is 
 no common work, it is God-work, soul-work, eter- 
 nity-work. I am now going forth bearing seed, which 
 will bring forth fruit to life or death in the world to 
 come : pause a while upon thy sins, wants, troubles : 
 address thyself to duty. David first mused, and 
 then spake with his tongue. Psalm xxxix. 3, 4. So 
 Psalm xlv. 1. " My heart is inditing," &c. 
 
 Help 2. Having composed thy heart by previous 
 meditation, presently set a guard upon thy senses. 
 How often are poor Christians in danger of losing 
 the eyes of their mind by those of their body ! for 
 this Job " covenanted with his senses;" for this 
 David prayed : " Turn away mine eyes from behold- 
 ing vanity, and quicken thou me in thy way." This 
 may serve to expound that mystical Arabian proverb, 
 
133 
 
 which advises to " shut the windows, that the house 
 may be light." It were excellent if you could say 
 in your onsets upon duty, as a holy man once did 
 when he came off from duty: " Be shut, O mhie eyes 
 be shut : for it is impossible you should ever see such 
 beauty and glory in any creature, as I have now seen 
 in God." You had need to avoid all occasions of 
 distraction from without, for be sure you will meet 
 enough from within : intention of spirit in the work 
 of God, locks up the eye and ear against vanity. 
 When Marcellus entered the gates of Syracuse, 
 Archimedes was so intent about his mathematical 
 scheme, that he took no notice of the soldiers when 
 they entered his very study with drawn swords: a 
 fervent, cannot be a vagrant heart. 
 
 Help 3. Beg of God a mortified fancy. " A work- 
 ing fancy," saith one, "how much soever it be extolled 
 among men, is a great snare to the soul, except it 
 work in fellowship with right reason and a sanctified 
 heart." The phantasy is a power of the soul placed 
 between the senses and the understanding ; it is that 
 which first stirs itself in the soul, and by its motion 
 other powers are stirred ; it is the common shop where 
 thoughts are first forged and framed, and as this is, 
 so are they if imaginations be not first cast down : it 
 is impossible that every thought of the heart should 
 be brought into obedience to Christ. This fancy is 
 naturally the wildest and most untameable power in 
 the soul. Some Christians (especially such as are of 
 hot and dry constitutions) have much to do with it. 
 
 And truly, the more spiritual the heart is, the 
 more it is troubled about the vanity and wildness of 
 it. O ! what a sad thing it is, that thy nobler soul 
 
134 
 
 must lackey up and down after a vain roving fancy ; 
 that such a beggar should ride on horseback, and such 
 a prince run after on foot; that it should call off the 
 soul from attendance upon God, when it is most 
 sweetly engaged in communion with him, to prose- 
 cute such vanities as it will start at such times be- 
 fore it ! Beg earnestly of God that the power of 
 sanctification may once come upon it. Some Chris- 
 tians have attained such a degree of sanctification 
 of their fancies, that they have had much sweetness 
 left upon their hearts by the spiritual workings of 
 it in the night season. When thy fancy is more 
 mortified, thy thoughts will be more orderly and 
 fixed. 
 
 Help 4. If thou would keep thy heart from those 
 vain excursions, realize to thyself, by faith, the holy 
 and awful presence of God in duties. 
 
 If the presence of a grave man will compose us to 
 seriousness, how much more the presence of a holy 
 God ! Thinkest thou thy soul durst be so gay and 
 light, if the sense of a Divine eye were upon it ! 
 Kemember, the place where thou art is the place of 
 his feet, Isa. Ix. 13. Act faith upon the omnisciency 
 of God: " All the churches shall know that I am he 
 that searcheth the heart and trieth the reins, and I 
 will give to every one of you according to your 
 works." — "All things are naked and open to the eyes 
 of Him with whom we have to do." Realize bis 
 infinite holiness. Into what a serious composed frame 
 did the sight of God in his holiness put the spirit of 
 the prophet ! Isa. vi. 5. Labour to get also upon 
 thy heart due apprehensions of the greatness of God, 
 such as Abraham had, " I that am but dust and 
 
135 
 
 ashes, have taken upon me to speak to God." And 
 lastly, remember the jealousy of God, how tender he 
 is over his worship : " And Moses said unto Aaron, 
 This is that the Lord spake, saying, I will be sancti- 
 fied in them that come nigh me, and before all the 
 people I will be glorified." 
 
 " A man that is praying," saith Bernard, " should 
 behave himself as if he were entering into the court 
 of heaven, where he sees the Lord upon his throne, 
 surrounded with ten thousands of his angels, and saints 
 ministerincr unto him." When thou comest from a 
 duty, in which thy heart hath been toying and wander- 
 ing, thou mayest say, " Verily, God was in this place, 
 and I knew it not." Suppose all the impertinencies 
 and vanities which have passed through thine heart 
 in duty were written out, and interlined with thy 
 petitions, couldst thou have the face to present it to 
 God ? Should thy tongue but utter all the thoughts 
 of thy heart in prayer, would not men abhor thee ? 
 Why, thy thoughts are vocal to God. If thou wert 
 petitioning the king for thy life, would it not provoke 
 him to see thee playing with thy band-strings, or 
 catching every fly that lights upon thy clothes, whilst 
 thou art speaking to him about such serious matters? 
 O think sadly upon that scripture, " God is greatly 
 to be feared in the assemblies of his saints, and to be 
 had in reverence of all that are round about him." 
 W^hy did God descend in thunderings, and lightnings, 
 and dark clouds, upon Sinai ? Why did the moun- 
 tain smoke under him, the people quake and tremble 
 round about him, yea, Moses himself not exempted, 
 but to teach the people that great truth, " Let us 
 have grace, whereby we may serve him acceptably 
 
136 
 
 with reverence and godly fear, for our God is a con- 
 suming fire." Present God thus before thee, and 
 thy vain heart will quickly be reduced to a more 
 serious frame. 
 
 Help 5. Maintain a praying frame of heart in the 
 intervals of duty. What is the reason our hearts 
 are so dull, careless, and wandering, when we come 
 to hear or pray, but because there have been such- 
 long intermissions in our communion with God, by 
 reason whereof the heart is out of a praying frame ? 
 If that spiritual warmth, those holy impressions we 
 carry from God in one duty, were but preserved to 
 kindle another duty, it would be of marvellous ad- 
 vantage to keep the heart intent and serious with 
 God. 
 
 To this purpose, those intermediate ejaculations, 
 betwixt stated and solemn duties, arc of most sweet 
 and excellent use : by these, one duty is as it were 
 linked to another, and so the soul, as it were, wraps 
 up itself in a chain of duties. That Christian seldom 
 misses his mark in solemn duty that shoots up many 
 of these darts in the intervals of duty : it is an ex- 
 cellent commendation Christ bestows upon the spouse, 
 " Thy lips, O my spouse, drop as the honey-comb." 
 Upon which text, one gives this sweet note—" The 
 honey-comb drops actually but sometimes, but it 
 always hangs full of sweet drops ready to fall." If 
 our ejaculations were more, our lamentations upon 
 this account would be fewer. 
 
 Help 6. Endeavour to engage and raise thy affec- 
 tions to God in duty, if thou wouldst have thy dis- 
 tractions cured. 
 
 A drooping eye and a melting heart are seldom 
 
137 
 
 troubled as others upon this account. When the soul 
 is intent upon any work, it gathers in its strength, 
 and bends all the thoughts about it ; and when it is 
 deeply affected, it will be intent : the affections com- 
 mand the thouMits to ffo after them ; deadness 
 causes distraction, and distraction increases deadness. 
 Could you but look upon duties as the galleries of 
 communion in which you walk with God, where your 
 souls may be filled with those ravishing and match- 
 less delights that are in his presence, your soul would 
 not offer to stir from thence. 
 
 It is with the heart in duty as it is with those that 
 dig for golden ore : they try here, and finding none, 
 try there; and so go from place to place, till at last 
 they hit upon the rich vein, and there they sit down. 
 If thy heart could but once hit the rich vein in duty, 
 it would dwell and abide there with delight and con- 
 stancy : " O how I love thy law, it is my meditation 
 day and night !" The soul could dwell day and 
 night upon its knees, when once its delights, loves, 
 and desires are engaged. What is the reason your 
 hearts are so shuffling, especially in secret duties ? 
 Why are you ready to be gone almost as soon as 
 you are come into the presence of God, but because 
 your affections are not engaged ? 
 
 Help T. Mourn over the matter to God, and call 
 in assistance from heaven, when vain thoughts assault 
 thy heart in duty. 
 
 When the messenger of Satan buffeted Paul by 
 wicked injections, as is supposed, he goes to God, 
 and mourns over it before him. Never slight wan- 
 dering thoughts in duty as small matters : follow 
 every vain thought with a deep sigh ; turn thee to 
 
138 
 
 God with such words as these : Lord, I came hither 
 to speak with thee ; and here a busy devil and a vain 
 heart, conspiring together, have set upon me. O my 
 God, what a heart have I ! Shall I never wait upon 
 thee without distraction? When shall I enjoy an 
 hour of free communion with thee? Help me, my 
 God, this once : do but display thy glory before mine 
 eyes, and my heart shall quickly be recovered. Thou 
 knowest I came hither to enjoy thee ; and shall I go 
 away without thee? See how the heart of thy poor 
 child works towards thee, strives to get near thee, but 
 cannot ! My heart is aground : " Come, thou north 
 wind, blow, south wind." O for a fresh gale now from 
 thy Spirit, to set my affections afloat ! Couldst thou 
 but thus affectionately bewail thy distractions to God, 
 thou mightest obtain help and deliverance from them. 
 He would say to Satan and thine imperious lusts, as 
 Ahasuerus said of Haman, " What ! will he force 
 the queen before my face ?" Who are these, that 
 set upon my child in my work and presence ? 
 
 Help 8. Look upon the success and sweetness of 
 thy duties as very much depending upon the keeping 
 of thy heart close with God in them. 
 
 These two thino;s — the success and sweetness of 
 duty — are as dear to a Christian as his two eyes : 
 and both of these must necessarily be lost, if the 
 heart be lost in duty. " Surely God heareth not 
 vanity, neither doth the Almighty regard it." The 
 promise is made to a heart engaged : " Then shall 
 ye seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me 
 with all your heart." Well then, when thou find- 
 est thy heart under the power of deadness and dis- 
 traction, say to thy soul, O what do I lose by a care- 
 
139 
 
 less heart now ! My praying times are the choicest 
 parts, the golden spots of" all my time. Could I but 
 get up this heart with God, I might now obtain such 
 mercies as would be matter for a song to all eternity. 
 
 Help 9. Look upon it as a great discovery of the 
 sincerity or hypocrisy of your hearts, according as 
 you find them careful or careless in this matter. 
 
 Nothing will startle an upright heart more than 
 this. What ! shall I give way to a customary wan- 
 dering of heart from God ? Shall the spot of the 
 hypocrite appear upon my soul ? They, indeed, can 
 drudge on in the round of duty, never regarding the 
 frames of their hearts, Ezek. xxxiii. 31, 32. : but 
 shall I do so ? When men come into the presence- 
 chamber, and the king is not there, they bow to the 
 empty chair. O never let me be satisfied with empty 
 duties ! Never let me take my leave of a duty, un- 
 til mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts. 
 
 Help 10. Lastly, It will be of special use to keep 
 thine heart with God in duties, to consider what in- 
 fluence all thy duties have on thy eternity. 
 
 These are your seed-times ; and what you sow in 
 your duties in this world, you must look to reap the 
 fruit of it in another world : " If you sow to the flesh, 
 of that you shall reap corruption ; but if to the Spi- 
 rit, life everlasting." O my soul, answer seriously : 
 Wouldst thou be willing to reap the fruit of vanity in 
 the world to come ? Darest thou say, when thy 
 thoughts are roving to the ends of the earth in duty, 
 when thou scarce mindest what thou sayest or hear- 
 est. Now, Lord, I am sowing to the Spirit ; now I 
 am providing and laying up for eternity ; now I am 
 seeking for glory, honour, and immortality; now I 
 
140 
 
 am striving to enter in at the strait gate ; now I am 
 taking the kingdom of heaven by a holy violence ? 
 
 such a consideration as this should make the 
 multitudes of vain thoughts that press in upon the 
 heart in duty, to fly seven ways before it ! And thus 
 
 1 have shown you how to keep your hearts in the 
 times of duty. 
 
 Season VII. The seventh season calling for more 
 
 o 
 
 than common diligence to keep the heart, is when we 
 receive injuries and abuses from men. Such is the 
 depravedness and corruption of man in his collapsed 
 state, that one man is become a wolf, a tiger, to an- 
 other : they are, as the prophet complains, " as the 
 fishes of the sea, and as the creeping things, that have 
 no ruler over them." And as wicked men are cruel 
 and oppressive one to another, so they conspire to- 
 gether to abuse and wrong the people of God : as the 
 same prophet complains, " The wicked devoureth the 
 man that is more righteous than he." Now, when 
 we are thus abused and wronged, it is hard to keep 
 the heart from revengeful motions — to make it meekly 
 and quietly to commit the cause to him that judgeth 
 righteously — to exercise no other affection but pity 
 towards them that abuse us. Surely the spirit that 
 is in us lusteth to revenue. But it must not be so : 
 you have choice helps in the gospel to keep down 
 your hearts from such sinful motions against your 
 enemies, and to sweeten your irabittered spirits.-^ 
 The seventh case, therefore, shall be this : 
 
 Case VII. How a Christian may keep his heart 
 from revengeful motions, under the greatest injuries 
 and abuses from men. 
 
 The gospel, indeed, allows a liberty to vindicate 
 
141 
 
 our innoccncy and assert our rights ; but not to vent 
 our corruptions, and invade God's right. When, 
 therefore, thou findest thy heart begin to be inflamed 
 by revengeful motions, presently apply the following 
 remedies — and the first is this : 
 
 Remedy 1. Urge upon thy heart the severe prohi- 
 bitions of revenge by the law of God. Remember 
 that this is forbidden fruit, how pleasing and luscious 
 soever it be to our vitiated appetites. O, saith na- 
 ture, revenge is sweet ! O but, saith God, the effects 
 thereof shall be bitter ! How plainly hath God in- 
 terdicted this flesh-pleasing sin ! " Say not, I will 
 recompense evil — say not, I will do so to him as he 
 hath done to me." " Recompense to no man evil for 
 evil ;" and, " avenge not yourselves, but rather give 
 place to wrath." Nay, that is not all : but, " If thine 
 enemy hunger, feed him ; if he thirst, give him drink." 
 The word feed him, as critics observe, signifies to 
 feed cheerfully and tenderly, as birds do their young 
 ones. The Scripture is a great friend to the peace 
 and tranquillity of human society, which can never be 
 preserved if revenge be not deposed. It was wont to 
 be an argument urged by the Christians to prove 
 their religion to be supernatural and pure, that it 
 forbids revenge, which is so sweet to nature; and 
 verily it is a thousand pities such an argument should 
 be lost. Well, then, awe your hearts with the au- 
 thority of God in these Scriptures. And when carnal 
 reason saith, ' Mine enemies deserve to be hated,' — 
 let conscience reply, ' But, doth God deserve to be 
 disobeyed? Thus and thus hath he done, and so 
 he hath wronged me : but what hath God done, that 
 I should wrong him ? If he dare be so bold to break 
 
14 
 
 o 
 
 the peace, shall I be so wicked to break the precept ? 
 If he fears not to wrong me, shall not I fear to wrong 
 God?' — Ohj let the fear of God's threatenings re- 
 press such sinful motions. 
 
 Remedy 2. Set before your eyes the most eminent 
 patterns of meekness and forgiveness, that your soul 
 may fall in love with them. 
 
 This is the way to cut off those common pleas of 
 the flesh for revenge. As thus : ' No man would 
 bear such an affront.' Yes ! such and such have 
 borne as bad, and worse. ' I shall be reckoned a 
 coward, a fool, if I pass by this.' No matter, as 
 long as you follow the examples of the wisest and 
 most holy of men. Never did any suffer more and 
 fi-reater abuses from men than Christ did, and never 
 did any carry it more peaceably and forgivingly: 
 " He was oppressed and he was afflicted, yet he 
 opened not his mouth — he is brought as a lamb to 
 the slaughter," &c. This pattern the apostle sets 
 before you for your imitation : " For even hereunto 
 were ye called ; because Christ also suffered for us, 
 leaving us an example, that ye should follow his steps, 
 — Who, when he was reviled, reviled not again; 
 when he suffered, he threatened not; but committed 
 himself to him that judgeth righteously." To be of 
 a meek forgiving spirit is Christ-like, God-like: 
 " Then shall you be the children of your Father 
 which is in heaven : for he maketh his sun to rise on 
 the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the 
 just and on the unjust." How eminent also did this 
 spirit of Christ rest upon his apostles ! Never were 
 there such men upon earth for true excellency of spirit : 
 none were ever abused more, or suffered their abuses 
 
143 
 
 better. " Being reviled," say they, " we bless ; be- 
 ing persecuted, we suffer it ; being defamed, we en- 
 treat." Mr. Calvin, though a man of a quick spirit, 
 yet had attained such a degree of this Christ-like 
 forgiveness, that, when Luther had used some op- 
 probrious language of him, the good man said no 
 more but this : " Although he should call me devil, 
 yet I will acknowledge him to be an eminent servant 
 of Jesus Christ." 
 
 I have often heard it reported of holy Mr. Dod, 
 that when one, enraged at his close convincino- doc- 
 trine, picked a quarrel with him, smote him on the 
 face, and dashed out two of his teeth, — this meek 
 servant of Christ spat out the teeth and blood into 
 his hand, and said, " See here : you have knocked 
 out two of my teeth, and that without any just pro- 
 vocation ; but on condition I might do your soul 
 good, I would give you leave to dash out all the 
 rest." Here is excellency of a Christian spirit, above 
 all attainments of moral heathens : though they were 
 excellent at many other things, yet they could never 
 attain this forgiving spirit. " It is the first office of 
 justice," said Tully, " to hurt nobody, unless first pro- 
 voked by an injury." Whereupon Lactantius — 
 " O what a dainty sentence spoiled the orator by add- 
 ing these two last words !" Strive then for this ex- 
 cellency of spirit, which is the proper excellency of 
 Christians : do some singular thing that others can- 
 not do, and then you will have a testimony in their 
 consciences. When Moses outdid the magicians, 
 they were forced to confess the finger of God in that 
 business. 
 
 Remedy 3. Consider well the quality of the person 
 
144 
 
 that hath wronged thee. Either he is a good man 
 or a wicked man that hath done thee the injury. If 
 he be a good man, there is Hght and tenderness in 
 his conscience, and that will bring him at last to a 
 sense of the evil he hath done. However, Christ 
 hath forgiven him greater injuries than these ; and 
 why shouldst not thou ? Will Christ upbraid him 
 with any of those wrongs done to him, but frankly 
 forgive him all ; and wilt thou take him by the throat 
 for some petty abuse that he hath done to thee? 
 
 Or is he a wicked man ? If so, truly you have 
 more need to exercise pity than revenge towards him, 
 and that upon a double account. For, 1. He is 
 beside himself: so indeed is every unconverted sin- 
 ner, Luke XV. 17. Should you go into bedlam, and 
 there hear one rail at you, another mock you, and a 
 third threaten you, would you say, I will be revenged 
 upon them ? No, you would rather go away pity- 
 ing them : Alas, poor creatures ! they are out of 
 their wits, and know not what they do. Besides, 
 2. There is a day coming, if they repent not, when 
 they will have more misery than you can find in your 
 hearts to wish them. You need not study to re- 
 venge; God's vengeance sleepeth not, and will shortly 
 take place upon them : and is not that enough ? Have 
 they not an eternity of misery coming ? If they 
 repent not, this must be the portion of their cup ; 
 and if ever they do repent, they will be ready to 
 make you reparation. 
 
 Remedy 4. Keep down thy heart by this conside- 
 ration, that by revenge thou canst but satisfy a lust, 
 but by forgiveness thou shalt conquer a lust. 
 
 Suppose, by revenge, thou shouldst destroy one 
 
145 
 
 enemy, I will show thee how, by forgiving, thou shalt 
 conquer three : thine own lust, the devil's tempta- 
 tion, and thine enemy's heart. And is not this a 
 more glorious conquest ? If by revenge thou over- 
 come thine enemy, yet, as Bernard saith, " Unhappy 
 victory ! when, by overcoming another man, thou art 
 overcome by thine own corruption." But this way 
 you may obtain a glorious conquest indeed. What 
 an honourable victory did David this way obtain over 
 Saul ! " And it came to pass, when David had made 
 an end of speaking these words, that Saul lifted up 
 his voice and wept. And he said to David, Thou 
 art more righteous than I." 
 
 It must be a very disingenuous nature indeed upon 
 which meekness and forgiveness will not work; a 
 stony heart, which this fire will not melt. To this 
 sense is that. Pro v. xxv. 21. " If thine enemy hun- 
 ger, feed him ; if he thirst, give him drink : for in 
 so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire upon his head." 
 Some will have it a sin-punishing fire, but others a 
 heart-melting fire : to be sure, it will either melt his 
 heart, or aggravate his misery. Augustine thinks 
 that Stephen's prayer for his enemies was the great 
 means of Paul's conversion. 
 
 Remedy 5. Seriously propound this question to thy 
 own heart : Have I got any good by the wrongs and 
 injuries received, or have I not ? If they have done 
 you no good, turn the revenge upon yourselves : — O 
 that I should have such a bad heart, that can get no 
 good out of such troubles ! O that my spirit should 
 be so unlike to Christ's ! The patience and meek- 
 ness of other Christians have turned all the injuries 
 thrown at them into precious stones : the spirits of 
 G 60 
 
146 
 
 otliers have been raised in blessing God, when they 
 have been loaded with reproaches from the world; 
 ihey have bound them as an ornament to their necks. 
 Luther said, " I could even be proud upon it, that I 
 have a bad name among wicked men." To the same 
 purpose Jerome said sweetly, " I thank my God that 
 I am worthy to be hated of the world." Thus their 
 hearts were provoked by injuries to magnify God, 
 and bless him for them : if it work contrary with me, 
 I have cause enough to be filled with self-displacency. 
 
 If you have got any good by them, if the re- 
 proaches and wrongs you have received, have made 
 vou search your hearts the more, watch your ways 
 more narrowly ; if their wronging you, have made you 
 see how you have wronged God, then let me say for 
 them as Paul did himself, " Pray forgive them this 
 wrong." 
 
 What ! can you not find a heart to forgive one 
 that hath been instrumental of so much good to you ! 
 That is strange ! What though they meant it for 
 evil, yet if God hath turned it to good, you have no 
 more reason to rage against the instrument, than he 
 had who received a wound from his enemy, which 
 only brake and let out that imposthume, which other- 
 wise had been his death. 
 
 Remedy 6. It is of excellent use to keep the heart 
 from revenge, to look up and eye the first cause by 
 which all our troubles are ordered. 
 
 This will calm and meeken our spirits quickly. 
 Never did a wicked tongue try the patience of a saint 
 more than David's was tried by that railing Shimei; 
 yet the spirit of this good man was not at all poisoned 
 with revenge, though he goes along cursing and cast- 
 
147 
 
 ing stones at him all the way : yea, though Abishai 
 offered David, if he pleased, the head of that enemy ; 
 yet the king said, " What have I to do with you, 
 ye sons of Zeruiah ? So let him curse, because the 
 Lord hath said unto him. Curse David. Who then 
 shall say, wherefore hast thou done so ?" It may be 
 God uses him as his rod to lash me, because I by my 
 sin made his enemies blaspheme him ; and shall I be 
 angry with the rod ? How irrational were that ? This 
 also was it that quieted Job : he doth not rail, and 
 vow revenge upon the Chaldeans and Sabeans, but 
 eyes God as the orderer of those troubles, and is quiet. 
 " The Lord hath taken away, blessed be his name." 
 Obj, But you will say, " To turn aside the right 
 of a man, to subvert a man in his cause, the Lord 
 approveth not." 
 
 Atis. True, but though it fall not under his ap- 
 proving, yet it doth under his permitting will ; and 
 there is a great argument for quiet submission in that ; 
 nay, he hath not only the permitting, but the order- 
 ing of all these troubles. Did we see more of a holy 
 God, we would show less of a corrupt nature in such 
 trials. 
 
 Remedy 7. Consider how you daily wrong God, 
 and you will not be so easily inflamed with revenge 
 against others that have wronged you. 
 
 You are daily grieving and wronging God, and 
 yet he bears, forgives, and will not take vengeance 
 upon you ; and will you be so quick in revenging 
 yourselves upon others. O what a sharp and ter- 
 rible rebuke is that, " O thou wicked and slothful 
 servant, I forgave thee all that debt because thou 
 desiredst me, shouldst not thou also have had compas- 
 G 2 
 
148 
 
 sion on thy fellow servant, even as I had pity on 
 thee?" None should be so filled with bowels of 
 pity, forbearance, and mercy, to such as wrong them, 
 as those should be that have experienced the riches 
 of mercy themselves. Methinks the mercy of God 
 to us, should melt our very bowels into mercy them- 
 selves. It is impossible we can be cruel to others, 
 except we forget how kind Christ hath been to us. 
 Those that have found mercy, should show mercy. 
 If kindness cannot work, methinks fear should : " If 
 ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your 
 Father forgive you your trespasses." 
 
 Remedy 8. Lastly, Let the consideration of the 
 day of the Lord, which draweth nigh, withhold your 
 hearts from anticipating it by acts of revenge. 
 
 Why are you so quick ? Is not the Lord at hand 
 to avenge all his abused servants? " Be patient 
 therefore, my brethren, unto the coming of the Lord. 
 Behold, the husbandman waiteth, &c. — Be ye also 
 patient, for the coming of the Lord draweth nigh. 
 Grudge not one against another, brethren, lest ye 
 be condemned. Behold, the Judge standeth at the 
 door." This text affords three arguments against 
 revenge. 1. The Lord's near approach. 2. The 
 example of the husbandman's patience. 3. The 
 danger we draw upon ourselves by anticipating God's 
 judgment: " Vengeance is mine," saith the Lord. 
 He will distribute justice more equally and impartially 
 than you can. They that believe they have a God 
 to right them, will not so much wrong themselves as 
 to avenge their own wrongs. 
 
 Obj. 1. But flesh and blood are not able to bear 
 such abuses. 
 
149 
 
 SoL If you resolve to consult flesh and blood 
 in such cases, and do no more but what that will en- 
 able you to do, never pretend to religion : Chris- 
 tians must do singular and supernatural things. 
 
 ObJ. 2. But, if I put up with such abuses, I shall 
 be reckoned a fool, and every one will trample upon 
 me. 
 
 SoL 1. You may be reckoned so among fools, 
 but God and good men will account it your wisdom, 
 and the excellency of your spirits. 2. It must be a 
 base spirit, indeed, that will trample upon a meek 
 and forgiving Christian : and thus learn to keep your 
 hearts from revenge under all your provocations. 
 
 Season VIII. The next season in which we are 
 in danger of losing our hearts, is, when we meet with 
 great crosses and provocations. Then sinful passion 
 is apt to transport the heart. It is the fault of many 
 good men to be of hasty and quick spirits, when pro- 
 voked; though they dare not concoct anger into 
 malice, for that would be a note of wickedness ; yet 
 are they very incident to sudden anger, which is a sign 
 of weakness. Beza, in the life of Calvin, observes, 
 that he was of a keen and hasty spirit ; and he that 
 writes the life of the great Cameron, saith, that his 
 anger was soon stirred towards his nearest and fami- 
 liar friends ; but then, he would easily depose it, and 
 acknowledge his weakness. Alas, when provocations 
 and trials of our patience come, we know not what 
 spirit we are of. The eighth case, therefore, is this : 
 
 Case VIII. How the heart may be kept meek and 
 patient under great crosses and provocations. 
 
 There are three sorts of anger, natural, holy, and 
 sinful anger. 1. Natural, which is nothing else but 
 
150 
 
 the motion of the irascible appetite towards an of- 
 fensive object ; and this, in itself, is no sin : they are 
 propassions rather than passions, the infelicities rather 
 than the sins of nature, as Jerome calls them. Rea- 
 son, saith Plutarch, is the driver, the soul is the 
 chariot, and the two horses that draw it on in all 
 its motions, are the concupiscible and irascible ap- 
 petites. Whilst these are rightly managed by reason, 
 they are not only lawful but useful to the soul. 
 God would not have us to be stupid and insensate, 
 though he would have us to be meek and patient. 
 In Eph. iv. 26. he allows the natural motion, but 
 forbids the sinful exorbitancy. 2. Holy anger, which 
 is a pure flame, kindled by a heavenly spark of love 
 to God, and in scripture is called " zeal ;" which is, as 
 one saith, the dagger which love draws in God*s 
 quarrel. Such was Lot's against the Sodomites, 
 and that of Moses against the idolatrous Israelites. 
 When Servetus condemned Zuinglius for his harsh- 
 ness, his answer was, in other cases I will be mild, 
 but in the cause of Christ, not so. That which the 
 world calls moderation and mildness here, is, in God's 
 account, stupidity and cowardliness; neither of these 
 are that which I am now persuading you to keep your 
 hearts against. But, 3. There is a sinful passion, that 
 is the thing which endangers you. Now, anger be- 
 comes sinful when it is either causeless, Mat. v. 22. or 
 excessive ; and that, either in measure or time, ex- 
 ceeding the value of the impulsive cause, be it more 
 transient or abiding ; yet it is a sin, and is matter of 
 humiliation before God. Now the means to keep 
 the heart from it under provocations, are these :— — 
 Means 1. Get low and humble thoughts of your- 
 
151 
 
 selves, and then you will have meek spirits, and 
 peaceable deportments towards others. 
 
 The humble is ever the patient man — pride is tlie 
 root of passion — a lofty will be a surly spirit — blad- 
 ders blown up with wind will not lie close together, 
 but prick them, and you may pack a thousand in 
 a small room — " only by pride cometh contention." 
 When we overrate ourselves, then we think we are 
 unworthily treated by others, and that provokes : 
 and here (by the way) take notice of one great bene- 
 fit of acquaintance with your own hearts, even the 
 meekness and calming of your spirits. Christian, 
 methinks thou wouldst know thyself; that it is im- 
 possible any should lay. thee lower, or have baser 
 thoughts of thee, than thou hast of thyself. Some 
 render the original of that text, Hab. ii. 5. " The 
 proud man is as he that transgresseth by wine :" and 
 drunkards, you know, are quarrelsome. O get more 
 humility, and that will bring you more peace ! 
 
 Means 2. Be often sweetening your spirits in 
 communion with God, and they will not easily be 
 imbittered with wrath towards men. 
 
 A quiet conscience never produced an unquiet 
 conversation. The peace of God doth rule in the 
 heart, as an umpire in appeasing strifes ; for so much 
 that word. Col. iii. 15. imports. Wrath and strife 
 are greatly opposite to the frame and temper of a spiri- 
 tual heart, because it is inconsistent with the delio-ht 
 and contentment of that dove-like spirit, which loves 
 a sedate and quiet breast. O ! saith a soul that 
 feeds upon the sweet communion of the Spirit, shall 
 the sparkles of provocations now catch in my passions, 
 and raise such a smoke in my soul as will offend and 
 
152 
 
 drive away the Comforter from me ? This is so effec- 
 tual a remedy against passion, that I durst almost ven- 
 ture, in a Christian of a hasty nature, to make long-suf- 
 ferings a sign of communion with God. Seest thou 
 such a Christian quiet and calm under provocations, it is 
 very like his soul feeds upon such sweetness in God 
 as he is loath to leave : and, on the other side, seest 
 thou a Christian turbulent and clamorous, doubtless, 
 all is not well within ; his spirit is like a bone out of 
 joint, which cannot move without pain and trouble. 
 
 Means 3. Get due apprehensions of the evil 
 nature and effects of sinful anger : — Anger is a short 
 madness, saith one : Saith another. Anger is the fever 
 of the soul : It is the interregnum and eclipse of rea- 
 son, saith a third. 
 
 The effects of it are also very sad. 1. It grieves 
 the Spirit of God : banishes him from that breast 
 in which it rages and tumultuates. God is the God 
 of peace ; — the presence and comforts of God are only 
 enjoyed in the calm. It is a golden note one gives 
 upon the forecited text — God doth not usually bless 
 with peace of conscience, such as make no conscience 
 of peace. 2. It gives advantage to the devil. Satan 
 is an angry and discontented spirit, and finds no rest 
 but in restless hearts ; he lives, like the Salamander, 
 in fires of contention, — he bestirs himself when the 
 spirits are in a commotion — sometimes he fills the 
 heart with revengeful thoughts, sometimes he fills 
 the lips, and inflames the tongue with indecent lan- 
 guage : even a meek Moses sometimes spoke unad- 
 visedly with his lips. 3. It untunes the spirit for 
 duty : upon this account the apostle dissuades hus- 
 bands and wives from jarring carriages and conten- 
 
153 
 
 tions, that their prayers be not hindered. All acts 
 of worship must be suitable to the object of worship ; 
 but God is the God of peace — the God of love. 
 4. To mention no more, it disparages the Christian 
 religion. How would Plato and Pythagoras shame 
 us if they were now living. Christ was a lamb for 
 meekness, and doth it become his followers to be 
 like lions? O keep your hearts, or you will at 
 once lose, not only your own peace, but the credit 
 of religion ! 
 
 Means 4. Consider how sweet a thing it is to a 
 Christian, to conquer his corruptions, and carry away 
 the spoils of them. 
 
 " He that is slow to anger is better than the 
 mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit than he that 
 taketh a city." Is there any contentment in venting 
 a passion; how much more in mortifying it? When 
 thou comest in a calm mood, or upon a death-bed, 
 to review thy life, how comfortable then will it be to 
 reflect upon the conquests thou hast got, by the fear 
 of God, over the evil propensions of thine own heart ! 
 It was a memorable saying of Valentinian the em- 
 peror, when he came to die : ' Amongst all my con- 
 quests (said he) there is but one that now comforts me ;' 
 and being asked what that was, he answered, ' I have 
 overcome my worst enemy, mine own naughty heart.' 
 
 Means 5. Shame yourselves by setting before you 
 those eminent patterns that have been most excellent 
 for meekness. 
 
 Above all, compare your spirits with the spirit of 
 
 Christ : " Learn of me," saith he, " for I am meek 
 
 lowly." Christ was meek and lowly, but I am proud 
 
 and passionate. It was the high commendation of 
 
 g3 
 
154 
 
 Moses : " Now the man Moses was meek, above all 
 the men of the earth :" and this was the man that 
 knew God face to face. It is said of Calvin and 
 Ursin, that they both were of choleric natures, but 
 yet had so learned the meekness of Christ, as not to 
 utter one word, under the greatest provocation, unbe- 
 seeming religion. When I read the pretty stories 
 of the very heathens, that never had the advantages 
 we have, how the Pythagoreans, whatever feuds had 
 been among them in the day, would bush all by 
 sending to each other this message, " The sun is 
 almost set;" and that of Plato to his scholar, " I 
 would beat thee if I were not angry." 
 
 When I read what lenity and tenderness Ly- 
 curgus showed to an insolent fellow, that had struck 
 out one of his eyes, I am ashamed to see how 
 much Christians are outdone by heathens; who, 
 by mere moral arguments and precepts, had thus 
 Tneekened their spirits, and conquered their passions. 
 The dim light of nature could teach Seneca to say, 
 ' That anger will hurt a man more than the offence; 
 for there is a certain bound in the offence, but I know 
 not how far mine anger will carry me.' It is a shame 
 that these men, who came so far behind us in means 
 and advantages, should so far outstrip us in meekness 
 and patience. 
 
 Means 6. Lastly, Avoid all irritating occasions. 
 
 He that will not bear the clapper, must not pull 
 the rope : " Grievous words stir up anger," saith So- 
 lomon. Do not only pray and resolve against it, but 
 get as far as you can out of the way of it. It is 
 true spiritual valour, to run as fast and as far as we 
 can out of sin's way. If you can but avoid anger in 
 
155 
 
 its first rise, there is no great fear of it afterwards : 
 for it is not with this sin as it is with other sins ; 
 other sins grow to their full strength by degrees, 
 their first motions are the weakest; but this sin is 
 born in its full strength : it is strongest at first, with- 
 stand it then, and it falls before you. Thus learn to 
 keep your heart when provocations arise. 
 
 Season IX. The ninth season of exerting our 
 greatest diligence, is the critical hour of temptation ; 
 wherein Satan lays close siege to the fort-royal of a 
 Christian's heart, and often surprises it for want of 
 watchfulness. To keep thy heart now, is no less a 
 mercy than a duty. Few Christians are so well 
 skilled in detecting the fallacies, and retorting the 
 arguments, by which Satan uses to draw them to sin, 
 as to come off safe in those encounters. " Watch 
 and pray," saith our Lord, " lest ye enter into temp- 
 tation." Even an eminent David, and a wise Solo- 
 mon, have smarted for their carelessness at such a 
 time as this. The ninth case, therefore, shall be this : 
 
 Case IX. How a Christian, when strongly soli- 
 cited by the devil to sin, may keep his heart from 
 yielding to the temptation. 
 
 Now, there are six special arguments by which 
 Satan subtly insinuates and winds in the temptation; 
 in all which I shall offer thee some help for the keep- 
 ing of thy heart. And the first is this : 
 
 Arg. 1. The first argument is drawn from the 
 pleasure of sin. O, saith Satan, here is pleasure to 
 be enjoyed : the temptation comes with a smiling 
 countenance and charming voice. What, art thou 
 so phlegmatic and dull a soul, as not to feel the 
 powerful charms of pleasure ? who can withhold him- 
 self from such delights ? 
 
156 
 
 Now, thine heart may be kept from the danger of 
 this temptation, by retorting this argument of plea- 
 sure upon the tempter : which is done two ways : 
 
 1. Thou tellest me, Satan, that sin is pleasant. 
 Be it so ; but are the gripes of conscience, and the 
 flames of hell so too? Is it pleasant to feel the 
 wounds and throbs of conscience ? If so, why did Da- 
 vid cry out of broken bones? I hear what thou 
 sayest of the pleasure of sin ; and I have read what 
 David hath said of the terrible eflPects of sin, in his 
 Psalm " to brinff to remembrance :" — " Thine arrows 
 stick fast in me, and thy hand presseth me sore. 
 There is no soundness in my flesh because of thine 
 anger; neither is there any rest in my bones because 
 of my sin. For mine iniquities are gone over mine 
 head; as a heavy burden they are too heavy for me. 
 My wounds stink, and are corrupt, because of my 
 foolishness. I am troubled ; I am bowed down 
 greatly ; I go mourning all the day long. For my 
 loins are filled with a loathsome disease; and there is 
 no soundness in my flesh. I am feeble and sore 
 broken : I have roared by reason of the disquietness 
 of my heart." — Here I see the true face of sin. If 
 I yield to thy temptation, I must either feel these 
 pangs of conscience, or the flames of hell. 
 
 2. What talkest thou of the pleasure of sin, when, 
 by experience, I know there is more true pleasure in 
 the mortification, than can be in the commission of 
 sin. O how sweet is it to please God, to obey con- 
 science, to preserve inward peace ! to be able to say. 
 In this trial I have discovered the sincerity of my 
 heart; now I know I fear the Lord; now I see that 
 I truly hate sin ! Hath sin any such delight as 
 this ? This will choke that temptation. 
 
157 
 
 Arg. 2. The second argument is drawn from the 
 secrecy of sin. O, saith Satan, this sin will never 
 disgrace thee abroad ; none shall know it. 
 
 This argument may be retorted, and the heart 
 secured thus : Thou sayest. None shall know it ; but, 
 Satan, canst thou find a place void of the divine pre- 
 sence for me to sin in ? Thus Job secured his heart 
 from this temptation : " Doth he not see my ways, 
 and count all my steps ?" therefore he makes a cove- 
 nant with his eyes. After the same manner Solomon 
 teaches us to retort this temptation : " And why, my 
 son, wilt thou be ravished with a strange woman, and 
 embrace the bosom of a stranger ? For the ways of 
 man are before the eyes of the Lord, and he ponder- 
 eth all his goings." What if I hide it from the 
 eyes of all the world for the present, I cannot hide 
 it from God : and the time is at hand, when all the 
 world shall know it too ; for the word assures me, 
 that " what is now done in secret shall be proclaimed 
 as upon the housetop." Besides, is not my con- 
 science as a thousand witnesses ? Do I owe no re- 
 verence to myself? Could the heathen man say, 
 " when thou art tempted to commit sin, fear thyself 
 without any other witness ?" and shall not I be afraid 
 to sin before mine own conscience, which always hath 
 a reproof in its mouth, or a pen in its hand, to re- 
 cord my most secret actions ? 
 
 Arg. 3. The third argument by which Satan 
 tempteth to sin, is taken from the gain and profit 
 arising out of it : Why so nice and scrupulous ? It 
 is but to stretch conscience a little, and thou mayest 
 make thyself: now is thy opportunity ! 
 
 The heart may be kept from falling into this dan- 
 
158 
 
 gerous snare, by retorting the temptation thus : But 
 what profit will it be if a man " should gain the 
 whole world, and lose his own soul ?'* Or, " what 
 shall a man give in exchange for his soul ?" O my 
 soul ! my precious soul ! shall I hazard thee for all 
 the good that is in this world ? There is an immor- 
 tal spirit, dwelling in this fleshly tabernacle, of more 
 value than all earthly things, which must live to all 
 eternity, when this world shall lie in white ashes : a 
 soul for which Jesus Christ shed his precious and in- 
 valuable blood. I was sent into this world to provide 
 for this soul. Indeed, God hath also committed to me 
 the care of my body, but, as one happily expresses it,* 
 with this difference : a master commits two things to 
 a servant — the child, and the child's clothes. Will 
 the master thank the servant, if he plead, I have 
 kept the clothes, but I have neglected the life of the 
 child? 
 
 Arg. 4. The fourth argument is drawn from the 
 smallness of the sin. It is but a little one, a small 
 matter, a trifle ; who would stand upon such niceties ? 
 
 This argument may be retorted three ways : 
 
 1. But is the Majesty of Heaven a little one too? 
 If I commit this sin, I must offend and wrong a great 
 God, Isa. xl. 15, 16, 17, 22. 
 
 2. Is there any little hell to torment little sinners 
 in ? Are not the least sinners there filled with the 
 fulness of wrath ? O there is great wrath treasured 
 up for such as the world counts little sinners ! 
 
 3. The less the sin, the less the inducement to 
 commit it. What, shall I break with God for a 
 
 » See Gospel Glass, p. 3. 
 
159 
 
 trifle ? — destroy my peace, wound my conscience, 
 grieve the Spirit, and all this for nothing ? O what 
 madness is this ! 
 
 Arg. 5. A fifth argument is drawn from the grace 
 of God, and hopes of pardon. Come, God will pass 
 by this as an infirmity ; he will not be extreme to 
 mark it. But stay my heart. 
 
 1. Where do I find a promise of mercy to pre- 
 sumptuous sinners? Indeed, for involuntary sur- 
 prisals, unavoidable and lamentable infirmities, there 
 is a pardon of course ; but where is the promise to a 
 daring sinner, that sins upon presumption of pardon ? 
 Pause a while, my soul, upon that scripture, Num. 
 XV. 27, 30. " And if a soul sin through ignorance, 
 then he shall bring a she-goat of the first year for a 
 sin-offering," &c. — " But the soul that doth ought 
 presumptuously, the same reproacheth the Lord ; and 
 that soul shall be cut off from among his people." 
 
 2. If God be a God of so much mercy, how can 
 I abuse so good a God ? Shall I take so glorious an 
 attribute as the mercy of God is, and abuse it unto 
 sin? Shall I wrong him because he is good? or 
 should not rather the goodness of God lead me to 
 repentance ? " There is mercy with thee, that thou 
 mayest be feared." 
 
 Arg. 6. Lastly, sometimes Satan encourages to 
 sin, from the examples of good and holy men : thus 
 and thus they have sinned, and been restored; there- 
 fore this may consist with grace, and thou be saved 
 nevertheless. The danger of this temptation is 
 avoided, and the heart secured, by retorting the ar- 
 gument these three ways : 
 
 L Though good men may commit the same sin 
 
160 
 
 materially which I am tempted to do, yet, did ever 
 any good man venture to sin upon such a ground and 
 encouragement as this ? 
 
 2. Did God record these examples for my imita- 
 tion or for my warning? Are they not set up as 
 sea-marks, that I might avoid the rocks upon which 
 they spHt ? " Now these were our examples, to the 
 intent we should not lust after evil things, as they 
 also lusted." 
 
 3. Am I willing to feel what they felt for sin ? 
 O ! I dare not follow them in the ways of sin, lest 
 God should plunge me into the deeps of horror into 
 which he cast them. 
 
 Thus, learn to keep your hearts in the hour of 
 temptation to sin. 
 
 Season X. The tenth special season, to keep the 
 heart with all diligence, is the time of spiritual dark- 
 ness and doubting, when it is with the soul, as it was 
 with Paul in his dangerous voyage — neither sun, 
 nor moon, nor star appear for many days ; when, by 
 reason of the hidings of God's face, the prevalency 
 of corruption, and the in evidence of grace, the soul 
 is even ready to give up all its hopes and comforts 
 for lost ; to draw sad and desperate conclusions upon 
 itself; to call its former comforts, vain delusions; its 
 grace, hypocrisy. When the serene and clear hea- 
 vens are overcast with dark clouds ; yea, filled with 
 thunders, and horrible tempests ; when the poor pen- 
 sive soul sits down and weeps for this sad lamenta- 
 tion, " My hope is perished from the Lord." Now, 
 to keep the heart from sinking in such a day as this, 
 to enable it to maintain its own sincerity, is a matter 
 of great difficulty. The tenth case then will be this : 
 
161 
 
 Case X. How the people of God, in dark and 
 doubting seasons, may keep their hearts from enter- 
 taining such sad conclusions about their states, as 
 destroy their peace, and unfit them for their duty. 
 
 There are two general heads to which the grounds 
 of doubting our sincerity may be reduced, (1.) God's 
 carriage towards the soul, either in the time of some 
 extraordinary affliction, or of some long and sad de- 
 sertion. Or, (2.) The soul's carriage towards God: 
 and here it usually argues against the truth of its 
 own graces, either, (1.) From its relapses into the 
 same sins, from which it hath formerly risen, with 
 shame and sorrow. Or, (2.) From the sensible de- 
 clining of its affections from God. Or, (3.) From 
 the excess of the affections towards creature-comforts 
 and enjoyments. Or, (4.) From its enlargements 
 in public, and often straitenings in private duties. 
 Or, (5.) From some horrid injections of Satan, with 
 which the soul is greatly perplexed. Or, lastly, from 
 God's silence, and seeming denial of its long depend- 
 ing suits and prayers. 
 
 These are the common grounds of those sad con- 
 clusions. Now, in order to the establishment and 
 support of the heart in this condition, it will be ne- 
 cessary, 
 
 1. That you be acquainted with some general 
 truths, which have a tendency to the settlement of a 
 trembling and doubting soul. 
 
 2. That you be rightly instructed about the fore- 
 mentioned particulars, which are the grounds of your 
 doubting. 
 
 The general truths requisite for poor doubting 
 souls to be acquainted with, are these : 
 
162 
 
 1. That every working and appearance of hypo- 
 crisy, (loth not presently prove the person in whom it 
 is, to be a hypocrite. You must carefully distin- 
 guish between the presence and predominancy of 
 hypocrisy. There are remains of deceitfulness in 
 the best hearts: David and Peter had sad experience 
 of it ; yet the standing frame, and general bent of 
 the heart being upright, it did not denominate them 
 hypocrites. 
 
 2. That we ought as well to hear what can be said 
 for us, as against us. It is the sin of upright hearts 
 sometimes to use an over-rigid, and merciless seve- 
 rity against themselves : they do not indifferently 
 consider the case of their own souls. It is, in this 
 case, as Solomon speaks in another : " There is that 
 maketh himself rich, and yet hath nothing; and there 
 is that maketh himself poor, and yet hath great 
 riches." It is the damning sin of the self-flattering 
 hypocrite, to make his condition better than it is : 
 and it is the sin and folly of some upright ones, to 
 make their condition worse than indeed it is. Why 
 should you be such enemies to your own peace ? To 
 read over the evidences of God's love to your souls, 
 as a man doth a book which he intends to confute ? 
 Why do you study to find evasions, to turn off those 
 comforts which are due to you ? It is said of Jo- 
 seph, he was minded to put away his espoused Mary; 
 not knowing that that holy thing which was con- 
 ceived in her, was by the Holy Ghost ; — and this 
 may be your case. And a third truth is this, 
 
 3. That many a saint hath charged and con- 
 demned himself, for that which God will never 
 charge him with, nor condemn him for: " Why hast 
 
163 
 
 thou hardened our hearts from thy fear," saith the 
 church, Isa. Ixiii. 17. and yet the verse hefore mani- 
 fests, that their hearts were not so hardened. Godly 
 Bradford wrote himself a hypocrite, a painted sepul- 
 chre ; yet, doubtless, God acquitted him of that 
 charge. 
 
 4. Every thing which is a ground of grief to the 
 people of God, is not a sufficient ground of question- 
 ing their sincerity. There are many more things to 
 trouble you, than there are to stumble you. If upon 
 every slip and failing through infirmity, you should 
 question all that ever was wrought upon you, your 
 life must be made up of doubtings and fears, you can 
 never attain a settled peace, nor live that life of praise 
 and thankfulness the gospel calls for. 
 
 5. The soul is not at all times fit to pass judgment 
 upon its own condition. To be sure, in the dark day 
 of desertion, when the soul is benighted ; and in the 
 stormy day of temptation, when the soul is in a 
 hurry, it is utterly unfit to judge its state : " Exa- 
 mine your hearts upon your beds, and be still." This 
 is rather a season for watching and resisting, than ior 
 judging and determining. 
 
 6. That every breach of peace with God, is not a 
 breach of covenant with God. The wife who hath 
 many weaknesses and failings, often grieves and dis- 
 pleases her husband ; yet in the main is faithful, and 
 truly loves him. These failings may cause him to 
 alter his carriage, but not to withdraw his love, or 
 deny his relation : " Return, O backsliding Israel, 
 for I am married unto you." 
 
 7. Lastly, whatever our sin or trouble be, it 
 should rather drive us to God, than from God : 
 
164 
 
 " Pardon my sin, for it is great." Suppose it be 
 true, that thou hast so and so sinned, that thou art 
 thus long and sadly deserted ; yet it is a false infer- 
 ence, that therefore thou shouldst be discouraged, as 
 if there were no help for thee in thy God. When 
 you have well digested these seven establishing 
 truths, if still the doubt remain, then consider what 
 may be replied to the particular grounds of these 
 doubts. As, 
 
 I. You doubt, and are ready to conclude, the 
 Lord hath no regard or love for your souls, because 
 of some extraordinary affliction which is come upon 
 you. But I would not have thy soul so to conclude, 
 till thou be able satisfactorily to answer these three 
 queries : 
 
 Query 1. If great troubles and afflictions be 
 marks of God's hatred, why should not impunity and 
 constant prosperity be tokens of his love ? For, of 
 contrary things, there is a contrary reason and con- 
 sequence. But is this so indeed ? Or saith not the 
 scripture quite otherwise ? Prov. i. 32. " The pros- 
 perity of fools destroy them." So also Psal. xxxvii. 5. 
 
 Query 2. Dare I draw the same conclusion upon 
 all others that have been as much, yea, more afflicted 
 than myself? If this argument conclude against 
 thee, then so it doth against every one in thy condi- 
 tion : yea, the greater the affliction of any child of 
 God hath been, the more strongly the argument still 
 concludes; and then woe to David, Job, Heman, 
 Paul, and all that have been afflicted as they were. 
 
 Query 3. Had God exempted you only from 
 those troubles which all his other people feel, would 
 not that have been a greater ground of doubting to 
 
165 
 
 you than this ? especially since the scripture saith, 
 " If ye be without chastenings, whereof all are par- 
 takers, then are ye bastards, and not sons." 
 
 O how is our Father put to it by froward chil- 
 dren ! If he afflicts, then one cries, He loves me 
 not : If he exempts from affliction, others question 
 his love upon that ground. Surely you have other 
 work to do under the rod than this. 
 
 II. Or do you rashly infer, the Lord hath no love 
 for you, because he hides his face from you ; that your 
 condition is miserable, because dark and uncomfortable. 
 Before you draw such rash conclusions, see what an- 
 swer you can give to these four following queries : 
 
 Query 1. If any action of God towards his peo- 
 ple will bear a favourable, as well as a harsh and 
 severe construction, why should not his people inter- 
 pret it in the best sense ? And is not this such ! 
 May he not have a design of love as well as of ha- 
 tred, in this dispensation ? May he not depart for 
 a season, and not for ever ? Yea, that he might 
 not depart for ever ! You are not the first that 
 have mistaken God's ends in desertion : " Sion said, 
 the Lord hath forsaken me, my God hath forgotten 
 me." Was it so indeed ? Nothing less ? " Can 
 a mother forget," &c. 
 
 Query 2. Do you find the marks of an absolute, 
 total, and final desertion upon your own spirits, that 
 you are so apt to conclude yours to be such ? Do 
 you find your heart inclined to forsake God ? Have 
 you lost your conscientious tenderness in point of 
 sin ? If so, sad characters appear upon you indeed. 
 But if, in this dark hour, you are as tender of sin as 
 ever ; as much resolved to cleave to God as ever : I 
 
166 
 
 cannot, I will not forsake God, let him do what he 
 will with me : O no, I cannot. If your hearts work 
 thus, it can be but a partial, limited, and temporary- 
 desertion. By this he still keeps his interest in your 
 hearts : a sure sign he will return and visit you again. 
 
 Query 3. Is sense and feeling a competent judge 
 of God's actions and designs? Or may a man safely 
 rely upon its testimony, after so many discoveries of 
 the infallibility of it ? Is this a sound argument ? 
 If God had any love for my soul — if it were not 
 quite gone, I should feel it now as well as in former 
 times ; but I cannot feel it, therefore it is quite 
 <rone. Do you know the sun still keeps on his course 
 in the heavens, even in dull and close weather, when 
 you cannot see it ? And may it not be so with the 
 love of God ? Read Isa. 1. 10. May not I as well 
 conclude in winter, when the flowers have hid their 
 beautiful heads under ground, they are quite dead 
 and gone, because I cannot find them in December 
 where I saw them in May ? 
 
 Query 4. Think you, the Lord cares not to break 
 his childrens' hearts, and his own promise too? Hath 
 he no more regard to either ? If he return no more, 
 these must be the consequents, Isa. Ivii. 16, 17. 
 Heb. xiii. 5. 
 
 Well then, from God's carriage towards you, 
 either in affliction or desertion, no such discouraging, 
 heart-sinking conclusion can be inferred. Next let 
 us see whether they may not be inferred from our 
 carriage towards God, and here the principal grounds 
 of doubting are such as these : — 
 
 I. I have fallen again into the same sin from 
 which I have formerly risen with repentance and re- 
 
167 
 
 solution ; therefore my sinning is customary sinning, 
 a spot that is not the spot of God's children. Hence 
 the upright soul trembles ; upon this it is ready to 
 affirm, that all its former humiliations for, and op- 
 positions to sin, were but acts of hypocrisy. But 
 stay poor trembhng heart. 
 
 Query 1. If this be so, how comes it to pass that 
 Christ put such a favourable construction upon the 
 disciples sleeping the third time, when he had as often 
 reproved them for it? And how is it that we find 
 in Scripture so many promises made, not only to the 
 first sins, but also to the backslidings of God's people, 
 Jer. iii. 22. Hos. xiv. 4. 
 
 Query 2. Is not your repentance and care renewed 
 as often as your guilt is renewed ? Yea, the oftener 
 you sin, the more you are troubled. It is not so in 
 customary sinning ; the rise whereof Bernard excel- 
 lently discovers: — " I. (saithhe,) When a man ac- 
 customed to good sinneth grievously, it seems insup- 
 portable; yea, he seems to descend alive into hell. 
 2. In process of time it seems not insupportable, but 
 heavy ; and betwixt insupportable and heavy there is 
 no small descent. 3. Next it becomes light, his 
 conscience smites but faintly, and he feels not the 
 stripes of it. 4. Then there is not only a total in- 
 sensibleness of it, but that which was bitter and 
 displeasing is now become sweet and pleasing in some 
 degree. 5. Then it is turned into custom, and not 
 only pleases, but daily pleases. Lastly, custom is 
 turned into nature, he cannot be pulled away from 
 it, but defends and pleads for it. This is customary 
 sinning, this is the way of the wicked ; but the quite 
 contrary is your condition." 
 
168 
 
 Query 3. Are you sure, from scripture grounds, 
 that good men may not relapse again and again into 
 the same sin ? It is true, as for gross sins, they do 
 not use to relapse into them. David committed 
 adultery no more — Paul persecuted the church no 
 more — Peter denied Christ no more : but I speak 
 of ordinary infirmities. Job's friends were good men, 
 yet, saith he, " These ten times have ye reproached 
 me." So then, no such conclusions follow from this 
 first ground of doubting. 
 
 II. The second ground is, the declining and wither- 
 ing of our affections to spiritual things. O ! saith 
 the upright soul, if ever I had been planted a right 
 seed, I should have been as a green olive-tree in the 
 house of my God ; but my branches wither, therefore 
 my root is naught. But stay — 
 
 Query I. May you not be mistaken about the de- 
 cay of grace, and fading of your affections ? What 
 if they are not so quick and ravishing as at first ? 
 May not that be recompensed in the spirituality and 
 solidity of them now ? " I pray God your love may 
 abound more and more in all judgment :" It may be 
 more solid though not so fervent. Or do you not 
 mistake, by looking forward to what you would be, 
 rather than backward to what you once were ? It 
 is a good note of Ames, " We discern the growth of 
 grace as the growth of plants, which we perceive 
 rather to have grown than to grow." 
 
 Query 2. But grant it be so indeed as you affirm, 
 must it needs follow that the root of the matter is 
 not in you ? David^s last ways are distinguished 
 from his first, 2 Chron. xvii. 3. And yet both first 
 and last, a holy man. The church of Ephesus is 
 
169 
 
 cliarged by Christ for leaving her first love, and yet 
 a golden candlestick : many precious saints in that 
 church : Rev. ii. 2 — 4. 
 
 III. A third ground of these sad conclusions, is the 
 excess of our affections to some creature-enjoyments. 
 I fear I love the creature more than God; and if 
 so, my love is but hypocritical. I sometimes feel 
 stronger, and more sensible motions of my heart to 
 some earthly comforts, than I do to heavenly objects ; 
 therefore, my soul is not upright in me. But stay, 
 O soul ! 
 
 Query 1. May not a man love God more solidly 
 and strongly than the creature, and yet his affections 
 to the creature be sometimes moved more violently 
 and sensibly than towards God ? As rooted malice 
 argues a stronger hatred than a sudden though more 
 violent passion; so we must measure our love, not by 
 a violent motion of it, now and then, but by the 
 depth of the root, and constancy of its actings. Be- 
 cause David was so passionately moved for Absalom, 
 Joab concludes, that if he had lived, and all the peo- 
 ple died, " It would have pleased him well." But 
 that was argued more like a soldier than a logician. 
 
 Query 2. If you indeed love the creature for it- 
 self, — if you make it your end, and religion but a 
 means — then the conclusion is rightly drawn upon 
 you : but if you love the creature in reference to 
 God, and see nothing in it separated from him, 
 though sometimes your affections offend in the ex- 
 cess — this is consistent with sincere love to God. 
 To love the creature inordinately; that is, to put it in 
 God's room, and make it a man's end — this is the 
 love of a carnal heart : to love it immoderately, that 
 H 60 
 
170 
 
 is, to let out more affection to it than we ought, is 
 sometimes the sin of the best hearts. 
 
 Query 3. Have not many souls feared as you do, 
 that when Christ and creatures should stand as com- 
 petitors, in some eminent trial, they should forsake 
 Christ rather than the creature ; and yet, when 
 brought to that dilemma, have been able to cast all 
 the world at their heels for Christ ? Many of the 
 martyrs had such fears — thus they were satisfied. 
 The prevaleucy of love is best seen at parting: there 
 may be more love to Christ in thy soul than thou art 
 now aware off; and if God bring thee to such a 
 pinch, thou mayest see it. 
 
 IV. A fourth ffround of these sad conclusions is 
 from hence, — that we find our hearts sometimes more 
 straitened in private than in public duties. Oh ! if my 
 soul were sincere, its actings in duty would be uni- 
 form. I fear I am but a Pharisee upon this ground : 
 it is sad, indeed, we should at any time find our hearts 
 straitened in private. But, 
 
 Query 1. Do not all thine enlargements in duty, 
 whether public or private, depend upon the Spirit, 
 who is the Lord of influences ; and according as he 
 gives out, or holds back these influences, so art thou 
 enlarged or straitened ? And what if, sometimes, 
 he please to give that in a public, which he withholds 
 in a private duty, as long as thy soul is satisfied in 
 neither, without communion with God, and the strait- 
 ness of thy heart is indeed its burden, — doth that 
 argue thee to be a hypocrite ? 
 
 Query 2. Dost thou not make conscience of pri- 
 vate duties, and set thyself as before the Lord in 
 jhem ? Indeed, if thou live in the constant neglect 
 
171 
 
 or careless performance of them ; if thou art curious 
 about pubUc, and careless about private duties, that 
 would be a sad sign. But when you have conscien- 
 tiously performed, and often met with God in them, 
 it will not follow that you are insincere, because that 
 communion is sometimes interrupted. Besides, 
 
 Query 3. May there not be something at some- 
 times in a public, which is wanting in a private duty, 
 to raise and advantage thine affections ? God may 
 sometimes make use of the melting affections of them 
 with whom thou hearest or prayest, as petty instru- 
 ments to move thy affections — this advantage is 
 wanting in private, — therefore from hence, the case 
 so standing, no such inference can be drawn. 
 
 V. Another ground is from those horrid injections 
 of Satan, with which the soul is greatly perplexed. 
 By these I may see what a heart I have. Can grace 
 be where those are ? Yes: Grace may be where such 
 thoughts are, though not where they are lodged and 
 consented to. Dost thou cry out under the burden ? 
 enter thy protest in heaven against them? strive to 
 keep up holy and reverend thoughts to God ? then 
 it is violence, not a voluntary prostitution. 
 
 VI. The last ground of these sad conclusions, is, 
 the Lord's long silence, and seeming denial of our 
 long-depending suits and prayers. Or, if God had 
 any regard to my soul, he would have heard my cries 
 before now ! but I have no answer from him, there- 
 fore no interest in him. But stay, doubting soul : 
 
 Query 1. Have not many saints stumbled upon 
 
 this stone before thee ? "I said, in my haste, I am 
 
 cut off from before thine eyes : nevertheless thou 
 
 heardest the voice of my supplication." So the 
 
 h2 
 
172 
 
 church : " Thou coverest thyself with a cloud, that 
 our prayers shall not pass through." " Then said I, 
 I am cast out of thy sight." And may not you be 
 mistaken in this matter as well as they ? 
 
 Query 2. Though God's abhorring, and final re- 
 jecting prayer, be an argument of his abhorring the 
 person that prays ; yet dare we conclude so, from a 
 mere suspension of the answer ? God may bear long 
 with " his own elect, that cry unto him day and 
 night :" Luke xviii. 7. 
 
 Query 3. Can you deny, but that there are some 
 signs appearing in your souls, even whilst God sus- 
 pends his answer, that argue your prayers are not 
 rejected by him ? As, (1.) Though no answer come, 
 yet you are still resolved to wait. You dare not say, 
 as that profane wretch did, " This evil is of the 
 Lord; why should I wait for him any longer?" 
 (2.) You can clear and justify God still, and lay the 
 reason and cause of his silence upon yourselves. So 
 did David : " O my God, I cry in the day-time, and 
 thou hearest not ; and in the night, and am not silent. 
 But thou art holy," &c. (3.) The suspension of 
 God's answer makes you inquisitive into your own 
 hearts. What evils are there that obstruct your 
 prayers ? So the church. Lam. iii. 8. " He shutteth 
 out my prayer." And how doth this work ? You 
 may see, ver. 40. " Let us search and try our ways." 
 Well, then, neither from hence may you conclude 
 that God hath no love for your souls. 
 
 And thus I have shown you how to keep your 
 hearts, in a dark and doubting season, from these 
 desperate conclusions of unbelief. God forbid any 
 false heart should encourage itself from these things. 
 
173 
 
 It is our mihappiness, that, when we give saints and 
 sinners their proper portions, that each of them are 
 so prone to take up the other's part. 
 
 Season XI. The eleventh special season, caHing 
 for this dihgence to keep your hearts, is when suf- 
 ferings for rehgion come to a height; then look to 
 your hearts : " All these are the beginning of sor- 
 rows. And they shall deliver you up to be afflicted, 
 and shall kill you : and ye shall be hated of all na- 
 tions for my name's sake. And then shall many be 
 offended." When sufferings for relimon ffrow hot, 
 then blessed is he that is not offended in Christ. 
 Troubles are then at a height: (1.) When a man's 
 nearest friends and relations forsake and leave him. 
 Micah vii. 5, 6. 2 Tim. iv. 16. When a man is 
 engaged alone. (2.) When it comes to resisting to 
 blood, Heb. xii. 4. (3.) When temptations are 
 presented to us in our sufferings, Heb. xi. 37, (4.) 
 When eminent persons for profession turn aside, and 
 desert the cause of Christ, 2 Tim. ii. 19. (5.) 
 When God hides his face in a suffering hour, Jer. 
 xvii. 17. (6.) When Satan falls upon us witli 
 strong temptations, to question the grounds of our 
 sufferings, or the soul's interest in Christ. Now, it 
 is hard to keep the heart from turning back, and the 
 steps from dechning God's ways. The eleventh case 
 then shall be this : 
 
 Case XI. How the heart may be kept from re- 
 lapsing under the greatest sufferings for religion ? If 
 the bitterness of sufferings at any time cause thy soul 
 to distaste the way of God, and take up thy thoughts 
 of forsaking it, stay thine heart under that tempta- 
 tion, by propoundmg these eight questions solemnly 
 to it : — 
 
174 
 
 Quest. 1. What reproach and dishonour shall I 
 pour upon Christ and religion, by deserting him at 
 such a time as this ? — This will proclaim to all the 
 world, that how much soever I have boasted of the 
 promises, yet, when it comes to the trial, I dare hazard 
 nothing upon the credit of them ; and how will this 
 open the mouths of Christ's enemies to blaspheme ? 
 O better had I never been born, than that worthy 
 name should be blasphemed through me ! Shall I 
 furnish the triumphs of the uncircumcised ? Shall I 
 make mirth in hell? O, if I did but value the name 
 of Christ as much as many a wicked man values his 
 own name, I could never endure to see it exposed to 
 such contempt ! Will proud dust and ashes venture 
 death, yea, hell, rather than a blot upon their names ? 
 And shall I venture nothing to save the honour and 
 reputation of Christ ? 
 
 Quest. 2. Dare I violate my conscience to save 
 my flesh ! Who shall comfort me when conscience 
 wounds me ? — What comfort is there in life, liberty, 
 or friends, when peace is taken away from the inner 
 man ? When Constantius threatened to cut off Sa- 
 mosatenus' right hand, if he would not subscribe 
 somewhat that w^as against his conscience, he held up 
 both his hands to the messenger that was sent, say- 
 ing. He shall cut off both rather than I will do it : 
 Farewell all peace, joy, and comfort, from that day 
 forward. " Had Zimri peace that slew his master?" 
 said Jezebel. So say I here. Had Judas peace ? Had 
 Spira peace ? And shall you have peace if you tread 
 in their steps ? O consider what you do ! 
 
 Quest. 3. Is not the public interest of Christ and 
 religion infinitely more than any private interest of 
 
175 
 
 my own ? — It is a famous passage that of Terentius, 
 captain to Adrian the emperor: — He presented a 
 petition to Adrian, that tlie Christians might liave 
 a temple by themselves, to worship God apart from 
 the Arians. The emperor tore his petition, and threw 
 it away, bidding him to ask something for himself, 
 and it should be granted : but he modestly gathered 
 up the pieces of his petition again, and told him, " If 
 he could not be heard in God's cause, he would never 
 ask any thing for himself." Yea, even Tully, though 
 a heathen, could say, " He would not accept even of 
 immortality itself against the commonwealth." O ! 
 if we had more public, we should not have such cow- 
 ardly spirits. 
 
 Quest. 4. Did Jesus Christ serve me so, when, 
 for my sake, he exposed himself to far greater suffer- 
 ings than can be before me? — His sufferings were 
 great indeed, he suffered from all hands, in all his 
 offices, in every member, not only in his body, but 
 in his soul : yea, the sufferings of his soul were the 
 very soul of his sufferings ; — witness the bloody sweat 
 in the garden — witness the heart-melting and heaven- 
 rending outcry upon the cross, " My God, my God, 
 why hast thou forsaken me?" And yet he flinched 
 not : " He endured the cross, despising the shame." 
 Alas ! what are my sufferings compared with Christ's ? 
 He hath drank up all that vinegar and gall that 
 would make my sufferings bitter. When one of the 
 martyrs was asked, why he was so merry at his 
 death ? " Oh," said he, " it is because the soul of 
 Christ was so heavy at his death." Did Christ bear 
 such a burden for me, with unbroken patience and 
 constancy ; and shall I shrink back from momentary 
 and light afflictions for him ? 
 
176 
 
 Quest. 5. Is not eternal life worth the suffering 
 of a moment's pain ? — If I suffer with him, I shall 
 reign with him. Oh how will men venture life and 
 limb for a fading crown, swim through seas of blood 
 to a throne ! And will I venture nothing — suffer 
 nothing for the "crown of glory that fadeth not away?" 
 My dog will follow my horse's heels from morning to 
 night, take many a weary step through mire and dirt, 
 rather than leave me, though at night all he gets by 
 it is but bones and blows. If my soul had any true 
 greatness, any sparks of generosity in it, how would 
 it despise the sufferings of the way, for the glory of 
 the end ! How would it break down all difficulties 
 before it, whilst, by an eye of faith, it sees " the fore- 
 runner who is already entered," standing, as it were, 
 upon the walls of heaven, with the crown in his hand, 
 saying, " He that overcometh shall inherit all things." 
 Come on then, my soul, come on ; there is eternal 
 life laid up for them that " by patient continuance in 
 well-doing, seek for glory, honour and immortality.'* 
 
 Quest. 6. Can I so easily cast off the society and 
 company of the saints, and give the right hand of 
 fellowship to the wicked ? — How can I part with such 
 lovely companions as these have been? How often 
 have I been benefited by their counsels ? How often 
 refreshed, warmed, and quickened, by their company ? 
 How often have I fasted and prayed with them? 
 What sweet counsel have I taken with them, and 
 gone to the house of God in company? And shall 
 I now shake hands with them, and say. Farewell all 
 ye saints for ever, I shall never be among you more : 
 come drunkards, blasphemers, persecutors, you shall 
 be my everlasting companions? O rather let my 
 
177 
 
 body and soul be rent asunder, than that ever I 
 should say thus to the excellent of the earth, in 
 "whom is all my delight. 
 
 , Quest. 7. Have I seriously considered the ter- 
 rible scripture comminations against backsliders ? — O 
 my heart ! darest thou turn thy back upon the very 
 points of such threatenings as these? " Thus saith 
 the Lord, Cursed be the man that trusteth in man, 
 and maketh flesh his arm, and whose heart departeth 
 from the Lord : for he shall be like the heath in 
 the desert, and shall not see when good cometh ;" 
 that is. The curse of God shall wither him root and 
 branch. And, " if we sin wilfully after we have re- 
 ceived the knowledge of the truth, there remaineth 
 no more sacrifice for sins, but a certain fearful look- 
 ing for of judgment and fiery indignation, which shall 
 devour the adversaries." And, again, *' If any man 
 draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him." 
 As if he should say, ' Take him world, take him 
 devil for your own, I have no delight in him.' () 
 who dare draw back, when God has hedged up the 
 way with such terrible threats as these ! 
 
 Quest. 8. Can I look Christ in the face in the 
 day of judgment, if I desert him now? — " He that 
 is ashamed of me, and of my words, in this adulter- 
 ous and sinful generation, of him shall the Son of 
 man be ashamed, when he cometh in the glory of his 
 Father, with the holy angels." Yet a little while, 
 and you shall see the sign of the Son of man coming 
 in the clouds of heaven, with power and great glory. 
 The last trump shall sound, the dead, both small 
 and great, even all that sleep in the dust, shall awake, 
 and come before that great white throne, on which 
 h3 
 
178 
 
 Christ shall sit on that great day. And now, do but 
 imagine thou sawest the trembling knees, and quiv- 
 ering lips, of guilty sinners ! Imagine thou heardest 
 the dreadful sentence of the Judge upon them, " Go, 
 ye cursed !" &c. And then a cry — the weeping, 
 wailing, and wringing of hands, that there shall be. 
 Wouldst thou desert Christ now, to protract a poor 
 miserable life upon earth ? If the word of God be 
 true, if the sayings of Christ be sealed and faithful, 
 this shall be the portion of the apostate. It is an 
 easy thing to stop the mouth of conscience now, but 
 will it be easy to stop the mouth of the Judge then ? 
 Thus keep thy heart, that it depart not from the 
 living God. 
 
 Season XII. The twelfth season of looking dili- 
 gently to our hearts, and keeping them with greatest 
 care, is the time of sickness- When a child of God 
 draws nigh to eternity, when there are but a few 
 sands more in the upper part of his glass to run down, 
 now Satan busily bestirs himself. Of him it may be 
 said, as of the natural serpent. He is never seen at 
 his full length till dying. And now his great de- 
 sign, since he cannot win the soul from God, is to 
 discourao-e, and make it unwillinf^ to ffo to God: 
 though the gracious soul, with Jacob, should then 
 rouse up itself upon a dying bed, and rejoice that 
 the marriage-day of the Lamb is now almost come; 
 though it should then say, with dying Austin, " I 
 despise life to be with Christ." Or as dying Milius, 
 when one asked him whether he were willing to die ? 
 " Oj" said he, " let him be unwilling to die, who is 
 unwilling to go to Christ. But, O ! what shrinking 
 from death. What loathness to depart may some- 
 
179 
 
 times, indeed too frequently, be observed in the 
 people of God ! How loath are some of them to 
 take death by the cold hand ! If such a liberty 
 were indulged to us, not to be dissolved till we dis- 
 solve ourselves, when should we say, with St. Paul, 
 " I desire to be dissolved?" Well, then, the last 
 case shall be this : 
 
 Case XII. How the people of God, in times of 
 sickness, may get their hearts loose from all earthly 
 engagements, and persuade them into a wiUingness 
 to die. 
 
 And there are seven arguments which I shall urge 
 upon the people of God, at such a time as this, to 
 make them cheerfully entertain the messenger of 
 death, and die as well as live like saints. And the 
 first is this : 
 
 Arg. 1. First, The harmlessness of death to the 
 people of God. — Though it keeps its dart, it hath 
 lost its sting. A saint (to allude to that in Isa. xi. 
 8.) may "play upon the hole of the asp, and put his 
 hand into the cockatrice' den." Death is the cocka- 
 trice, or asp ; the grave is his hole or den : a saint 
 need not fear to put his hand boldly into it ; it hath 
 left and lost its stinff in the sides of Christ : " O 
 death ! where is thy sting ?" Why art thou afraid, 
 O saint, that this sickness may be thy death, as long 
 as thou knowest that the death of Christ is the death 
 of death ? Indeed, if thou didst die in thy sins, as 
 John viii. 21.; if death as a king did reign over 
 thee, Rom. v. 14.. ; if it could feed upon thee, as the 
 lion doth upon the prey he hath taken, as Psalm 
 xlix. 14.; " if hell followed the pale horse;" then thou 
 mightest well startle, and shrink back from it : but 
 
180 
 
 when God hath put away thy sins from thee, " as 
 far as the east is from the west ;" as long as there is 
 110 other evil left in death for thee to encounter 
 with, but bodily pain ; as long as the Scriptures re- 
 present it to thee under such harmless and easy no- 
 tions, — as the putting off thy clothes, and " lying 
 down to sleep upon thy bed," — why shouldst thou 
 be afraid? There is as much difference betwixt 
 death to the people of God, and others, as betwixt 
 the unicorn's horn, when it is upon the head of that 
 fierce beast, and when it is in the apothecaries' shops, 
 where it is made salubrious and medicinal. 
 
 Arg. 2. Thy heart may be kept from shrinking 
 back at such a time as this, by considering the neces- 
 sity of death, in order to the full fruition of God. 
 
 Whether thou art willing to die or not, I assure 
 thee there is no other way to obtain the full satisfac- 
 tion of thy soul, and complete its happiness, — till the 
 hand of death do thee the kind office to draw aside 
 the curtain of thy flesh, thy soul cannot see God. 
 This animal life stands betwixt him and thee: 
 " Whilst we are at home in the body, we are absent 
 from the Lord." Thy body must be refined, and 
 cast into a new mould, else that new wine of heavenly 
 glory would break it. Paul, in his highest rapture, 
 2 Cor. xii. 4. when he heard things unutterable, was 
 then but as a stander by, a looker on ; not admitted 
 into the company as one of them. But as the angels 
 are in our assemblies, so was Paul in that glorious 
 assembly above, and no otherwise ; and yet even for 
 this, he must, as it were, be taken out of the body, 
 unclothed for a little time, to have a glimpse of that 
 glory, and then put on his clothes again. O, then, 
 
181 
 
 who would not be willing to die for a full sight and 
 enjoyment of God ? Methinks thy soul should look 
 and sigh, like a prisoner, through the grates of this 
 mortality : " O that I had wings like a dove, then 
 would I fly away, and be at rest." Most men need 
 patience to die, but a saint, that understands what 
 death admits him to, should rather need patience to 
 live. Methinks he should often look out, and listen 
 on a death-bed for his Lord's coming; and, when he 
 receives the news of his approaching change, should 
 say, " The voice of my beloved ! behold, he cometh 
 leaping over the mountains, skipping over the hills." 
 
 Arg. 3. Another argument, persuading to this wil- 
 lingness, is the immediate succession of a more ex- 
 cellent and glorious life. 
 
 It is but a wink, and you shall see God. Your 
 happiness shall not be deferred till the resurrection, 
 but, as soon as the body is dead, the gracious soul is 
 swallowed up in life. When once you have loosed 
 from this shore, in a few moments your souls will 
 be wafted over, upon the wings of angels, to the 
 other shore of a glorious eternity : " I desire to be 
 dissolved, and to be with Christ." Did the soul 
 and body die together, as Berilius taught; or did 
 they sleep till the resurrection, as others have ground- 
 lessly fancied ; it had been a madness for Paul to de- 
 sire a dissolution for the enjoyment of Christ : for, if 
 this were so, he enjoyed more of Christ whilst his 
 soul dwelt in its fleshly tabernacle, than he should 
 out of it. 
 
 There are but two ways of the soul's living, known 
 in Scripture; namely, the life o^faith^ and the life of 
 vision^ 1 Cor. v. 5. These two divide all time, both 
 
182 
 
 present and future, betwixt them, 1 Cor. xiii. 12. 
 If, when faith fails, sight should not immediately suc- 
 ceed, what would become of the unbodied soul? But, 
 blessed be God ! this great heart-establishing truth 
 is evidently revealed in Scripture, Luke xxiii. 43. 
 You have Christ's promise, John xiv. 3. " I will come 
 and receive you to myself." O what a change will 
 a few moments make upon your condition ! Rouse 
 up, dying saint ! when thy soul is come out a little 
 farther, when it shall stand, like Abraham, at its tent- 
 door, the angels of God shall soon be with it. The 
 souls of the elect are, as it were, put out to the an- 
 gels to nurse, and when they die, these angels carry 
 them home again to their Father's house. If an an- 
 gel were caused to fly swiftly, to bring a saint the 
 answer of his prayer, Dan. ix. 22. how much more 
 will the angels come post from heaven, to receive and 
 transfer the praying soul itself ! 
 
 Arg. 4. Farther, it may much conduce to thy 
 willingness to die, to consider, that by death God 
 oftentimes hides his people out of the way of all 
 temptations and troubles upon earth. " Write, From 
 henceforth, blessed are the dead that die in the Lord." 
 It is God's usual way, when some extraordinary ca- 
 lamities are coming upon the world, to set his people 
 out of harm's way beforehand: " Merciful men are 
 taken away from the evil to come." So Micah vii. 
 1, 2. when such an evil time comes, as is there de- 
 scribed, that " they all lie in wait for blood, and 
 every man hunts his brother with a net," God, by an 
 act of favour, houses his people beforehand. Dost 
 thou know what evil may be in the earth which thou 
 art so loath to leave ? Thy God removes thee for 
 
183 
 
 thy great advantage : thou art disbanded by death, 
 and called off the field ; other poor saints must stand 
 to it, and endure a great fight of afflictions. 
 
 It is observed, that Methuselah died the very 
 year before the flood ; Augustine, a little before the 
 sacking of Hippo ; Parens, just before the taking of 
 Heidelburgh. Luther observes, that all the apostles 
 died before the destruction of Jerusalem ; and Luther 
 himself died before the wars broke out in Germany. 
 It may be the Lord sees the tender heart cannot en- 
 dure to see the misery, or bear the temptations, that 
 are coming, and, therefore, will now gather thee to 
 thy grave in peace ; and yet wilt thou cry, O spare 
 me a little longer ! 
 
 Arg. 5. If yet thy hand hang back, consider the 
 great advantage you will have by death, above all 
 that ever you enjoyed on earth. And that, 1. As 
 to your communion with God, — 2. As to your com- 
 munion with saints. 
 
 L For your communion with God. The time of 
 perfecting that is now come. Thy soul shall shortly 
 stand before the face of God, and have the immediate 
 emanations and beamings forth of his glory upon it. 
 Here thy soul is remote from God ; the beams of his 
 glory strike it but obliquely and feebly; but shortly 
 it will be under the line, and there the sun shall stand 
 still as it did in Gideon : there shall be no cloudings 
 nor declinings of it. O how should this fill thy soul 
 with desires of being unclothed. 
 
 2. As for the enjoyment of saints : here indeed we 
 have fellowship with them of the lower form; but 
 that fellowship is so dissweetened by remaining cor- 
 ruptions, that there is no satisfaction in it. As it is 
 
184 
 
 the greatest plague that can befall a hypocrite to live 
 in a pure church, so it is the greatest vexation to the 
 spirit of a saint to live in a corrupt and disordered 
 church. But when death hath admitted you into that 
 glorious assembly of " the spirits of just men made 
 perfect," you shall have the desire of your hearts. 
 Here you cannot fully close with one another ; yea, 
 you cannot fully close with your own souls. O what 
 discords, jarrings, censurings, are here ! what per- 
 fect blessed harmony there ! In heaven each saint 
 loves another as himself; they are altogether lovely. 
 O my soul, haste thee away from the lions' dens, from 
 the mountains of Bether, from divided saints, to those 
 mountains of myrrh and hills of frankincense ! Thou 
 art now going unto thine own people, as the apostle's 
 phrase imports, 2 Cor. v. 8. 
 
 Arg. 6. If all this will not do, consider what heavy 
 burdens death will ease thy shoulders of. 
 
 " In this tabernacle we groan, being burdened." 
 
 1. With bodily distempers. How true do we find 
 that of Theophrastus, " The soul pays a dear rent for 
 the tenement it now lives in !" But glorified bodies 
 are clogged with no indispositions ; death is the best 
 physician; it will cure thee of all diseases at once. 
 
 2. With the indwelling of sin. This makes us groan 
 from the very bowels : but " he that is dead is freed 
 from sin." Hath justification destroyed its damning 
 power, and sanctification its reigning power? so glo- 
 rification destroys its very being and existence. 3. 
 We groan under temptations here; but, as soon as 
 we are out of the body, we are out of the reach of 
 temptation. When once thou art got into heaven, 
 thou mayest say, Now, Satan, I am there where 
 
185 
 
 thou canst not come. For as the damned in hell are 
 so fixed in sin and misery that their condition cannot 
 be altered, so glorified saints are so fixed in holiness 
 and glory that they cannot be shaken. 4. Here we 
 groan under various troubles and afflictions; but then 
 the days of our mourning are ended ; God shall wipe 
 away all tears from our eyes. O then let us haste 
 away, that we may be at rest ! 
 
 Arg. 7. If still thou linger, like Lot in Sodom, 
 then, lastly, examine all the pleas and pretences for 
 a longer time on earth. Why art thou unwilling to 
 die? 
 
 Obj. 1. O I have many relations in the world ! 
 I know not what will become of them when I am 
 gone. 
 
 Sol, If thou art troubled about their bodies and 
 outward condition, why should not that word satisfy 
 thee? " Leave thy fatherless children to me, 1 will 
 preserve them alive ; and let thy widows trust in me." 
 Luther, in his last will and testament, hath this ex- 
 pression : " Lord, thou hast given me wife and chil- 
 dren : I have nothing to leave them, but I commit 
 them unto thee. O Father of the fatherless, and 
 judge of widows, nourish, keep, and teach them !" 
 Or, art thou troubled for their souls ? Thou canst 
 not convert them if thou shouldst live ; and God can 
 make thy prayer and counsels to live and take place 
 upon them when thou art dead. 
 
 Obj. 2. I would fain live to do God more service 
 in the world. 
 
 Sol. Well : but if he have no more service for thee 
 to do here, why shouldst thou not say, with David, 
 " If he have no delight to use me any farther, here am 
 
186 
 
 I ; let him do what seemeth him good." In this world 
 thou hast no more to do ; but he is calling thee to a 
 higher service and employment in heaven : and what 
 thou wouldst do for him here, he can do that by other 
 hands. 
 
 Obj, 3. I am not yet fully ready : I am not as a 
 bride completely adorned for the bridegroom, 
 
 Sol. Thy justification is complete already, though 
 thy sanctification be not so. And the way to make it 
 so, is to die : for, till then, it will have its defects and 
 wants. 
 
 Obj. 4. O but I want assurance ! If I had that, 
 I could die presently. 
 
 Sol, Yea, there it sticks indeed. But then con- 
 sider, that a hearty willingness to leave all the world 
 to be freed from sin, and be with God, is the next 
 way to that desired assurance : no carnal person was 
 ever willing to die upon this ground. 
 
 And thus I have finished those cases which so 
 nearly concern the people of God, in the several con- 
 ditions of their life, and taught them how to keep 
 their hearts in all. I shall next apply the whole. 
 
 I. Use — Information. 
 
 You have heard that the keeping of the heart is 
 the great work of a Christian, in which the very soul 
 and life of religion consists, and without which all 
 other duties are of no value with God. Hence then 
 I shall infer, to the consternation of hypocrites and 
 formal professors, 
 
187 
 
 1. That the pains and labours which many persons 
 have taken in religion, are but lost labour, and pains 
 to no purpose, such as will never turn to account. 
 
 Many great services have been performed, many 
 glorious works are wrought by men, which yet are 
 utterly rejected by God, and shall never stand upon 
 record in order to an eternal acceptation, because they 
 took no heed to keep their hearts with God in those 
 duties. This is that fatal rock, upon which thou- 
 sands of vain professors have split themselves eter- 
 nally : they are curious about the externals of reli- 
 gion, but regardless of their hearts. O how many 
 hours have some professors spent in hearing, praying, 
 reading, conferring ! and yet, as to the main end 
 of religion, as good they had sat still and done no- 
 thing. For all this signifies nothing ; the great work, 
 I mean heart- work, being all the while neglected. 
 Tell me, thou vain professor, when didst thou shed a 
 tear for the deadness, hardness, unbelief, or earthli- 
 ness of thy heart ? Thinkest thou such an easy re- 
 ligion can save thee? If so, we may invert Christ's 
 words, and say, " Wide is the gate, and broad is the 
 way, that leadeth to life ; and many there be that go 
 in thereat." Hear me, thou self- deluding hypocrite 
 — thou that hast put off God with heartless duties— 
 thou that hast acted in religion as if thou hadst been 
 blessing an idol, that couldst not search and discover 
 thy heart — thou that hast offered to God but the skin 
 of the sacrifice, not the marrow, fat, and inwards of 
 it, — how wilt thou abide the coming of the Lord? 
 How wilt thou hold up thy head before him, when 
 he shall say, O thou dissembling false-hearted man, 
 how couldst thou profess religion ? With what face 
 
188 
 
 couldst thou so often tell me thou lovest me, when 
 thou knewest all the while, in thine own conscience, 
 that thine heart was not with me. O tremble to 
 think what a fearful judgment it is to be given over 
 to a heedless and careless heart; and then to have 
 religious duties, instead of a rattle, to quiet and still 
 the conscience ! 
 
 2, Hence also infer, for the humiliation even of 
 upright hearts, that unless the people of God spend 
 more time and pains about their hearts than generally 
 and ordinarily they do, they are never like to do God 
 much service, or be owners of much comfort in this 
 world. 
 
 I may say of that Christian that is remiss and 
 careless in keeping his heart, as Jacob said of Reu- 
 ben, " Thou shalt not excel." It grieves me to see 
 how many Christians there are, that go up and down 
 dejected and complaining, that live at a poor low rate 
 both of service and comfort. And how can they ex- 
 pect it should be otherwise, as long as they live at 
 such a careless rate ? O how little of their time 
 is spent in the closet, in searching, humbling, and 
 quickening their hearts ! 
 
 You say your hearts are dead : and do you won- 
 der they are so, as long as you keep them not with 
 the Fountain of life ? If your bodies had been dieted 
 as your souls have been, they would have been dead 
 too. Never expect better hearts till you take more 
 pains with them : he that will not have the sweat, 
 must not expect the sweet of religion. 
 
 O Christians ! I fear your zeal and strength have 
 run in the wrong channel. I fear most of us may 
 take up the Church's complaint : " They made me 
 
189 
 
 tlie keeper of tlie vineyards ; but mine own vineyard 
 have I not kept." Two things have eaten up the 
 time and strength of the professors of this generation, 
 and sadly diverted them from heart-work. (1.) Fruit- 
 less controversies started by Satan, I doubt not to this 
 very purpose, to take us off from practical godhness, 
 to make us puzzle our heads when we should be 
 searching our hearts. O how little have we minded 
 that of the apostle, " It is a good thing that the heart 
 be established with grace; not with meats" — that 
 is, with disputes and controversies about meats— 
 " which have not profited them that have been occu- 
 pied therein." O how much better is it to see men 
 live exactly,) than to hear them dispute subtly! These 
 unfruitful questions, how have they rended the 
 churches ; wasted time and spirits ; and called Chris- 
 tians olF from their main business, from looking to 
 their own vineyard ? What think ye, sirs ? Had 
 it not been better, if the questions agitated among the 
 people of God of late days had been such as these ? 
 — How shall a man discern the special, from the com- 
 mon operations of the Spirit? How may a soul 
 discern its first declinings from God ? How may a 
 backsliding Christian recover his first love ? How 
 may the heart be preserved from unseasonable 
 thoughts in duty? How may a bosom sin be disco- 
 vered and mortified ? &;c. Would not this have 
 tended more to the credit of religion, and comfort of 
 your souls? O, it is time to repent and be ashamed 
 of this folly ! When I read what Suarez, a papist, 
 said, who wrote many volumes of disputations, that 
 he prized the time he set apart for the searching and 
 examining of his heart, in reference to God, above 
 
190 
 
 all the time that ever he spent in other studies — I 
 am ashamed to find the professors of this age yet in- 
 sensible of their folly. Shall the conscience of a 
 Suarez feel a relenting pang, for strength and time 
 so ill employed ? and shall not yours ? This is it 
 your ministers long since warned you of: your spiri- 
 tual nurses were afraid of the rickets, when they saw 
 your heads only to grow, and your hearts to wither. 
 
 when will God beat our swords into plough-shares ! 
 
 1 mean, our disputes and contentions, into practical 
 godliness. (2.) Another cause of neglecting our 
 hearts, hath been earthly incumbrances. The heads 
 and hearts of many have been filled with such a 
 crowd and noise of worldly business, that they have 
 sadly and sensibly declined and withered in their 
 zeal, love, and delight in God, in their heavenly, se- 
 rious, and profitable way of conversing with man. 
 O how hath this w^ilderness entangled us ! our 
 discourses and conferences ; nay, our very prayers 
 and duties have a tang of it : we have had so much 
 work without doors, that we have been able to do but 
 little within. It was the sad complaint of a holy 
 one, (Mr. Strong,) ' O,' saith he, 'it is sad to think, 
 how many precious opportunities I have lost, how 
 many sweet motions and admonitions of the Spirit I 
 have passed over unfruitfully, and made the Lord to 
 speak in vain. In the secret illapses of his Spirit, 
 the Lord hath called upon me, but my worldly 
 thoughts did still lodge within me, and there was no 
 place within my heart for such calls of God.' Surely 
 there is a way of enjoying God, even in our worldly 
 employments. God would never have put us upon 
 them to our loss : Enoch walked with God, and be- 
 
191 
 
 gat sons and daughters. He walked with God, but 
 did not retire, and separate himself from the things 
 of this life; and the angels that are employed by 
 Christ, in the things of this world, (for the spirit of 
 the living creatures is in the wheels,) they are finite 
 creatures, and cannot be in a twofold ubi at one time, 
 yet they lose nothing of the beatific vision all the 
 time of their administration ; for " their angels (even 
 whilst they are employed for them) behold the face 
 of their Father which is in heaven." We need not 
 lose our visions by our employments, if the fault 
 were not our own. Alas ! that ever Christians, who 
 stand at the door of eternity, and have more work 
 upon their hands than this poor moment of interpos- 
 ing time is sufficient for, should yet be filling both 
 their heads and hearts with trifles. 
 
 3. Hence also, I infer, for the awakening of all, 
 that if the keeping of the heart be the great work of 
 a Christian, then there are but few real Christians in 
 the world. 
 
 Indeed, if every one that hath learned the dialect 
 of Christianity, and can talk like a saint ; if every 
 one that hath gifts and parts, and by the common as- 
 sisting presence of the Spirit, can preach, pray, or 
 discourse like a Christian : in a word, if such as as- 
 sociate themselves with the people of God, and de- 
 light in ordinances, may pass for Christians, — the 
 number then is great. 
 
 But, alas ! to what a small number will they shrink, 
 if you judge them by this rule ! How few are there 
 that make conscience of keeping their hearts, watch- 
 ing their thoughts, judging their ends, &c. O there 
 be but few closet men among professors ! It is far 
 
192 
 
 easier for men to be reconciled to any duties in reli- 
 gion than to these. The profane part of the world 
 will not so much as touch with the outside of reli- 
 gious duties — much less with this: and for the hypo- 
 crite, though he be polite and curious about those 
 externals, yet you can never persuade him to this in- 
 ward work, this difficult work, to which there is no 
 inducement by human applause ; this work, that 
 would quickly discover what the hypocrite cares not 
 to know : so that, by a general consent, this heart- 
 work is left to the hands of a few secret ones, and I 
 tremble to think in how few hands it is. 
 
 II. Use — ExJwrtation. 
 
 If the keeping of the heart be so important a busi- 
 ness; if such choice advantages accrue to you thereby ; 
 if so many dear and precious interests be wrapt up in 
 it, — then let me call upon the people of God every 
 where to fall close to this work. 
 
 O study your hearts, watch your hearts, keep 
 your hearts. Away with fruitless controversies, and 
 all idle questions ; away with empty names, and vain 
 shows ; away with unprofitable discourse, and bold 
 censures of others. Turn in upon yourselves ; get 
 into your closet, and now resolve to dwell there. 
 You have been strangers to this work too long, you 
 have trifled about the borders of religion too long ; 
 this world hath detained you from your great work 
 too long : will you now resolve to look better to your 
 hearts ? Will you haste and come out of the crowds 
 of busineSvS, and clamours of the world ? and retire 
 yourselves more than you have done ? O that this 
 day you would resolve upon it ! 
 
193 
 
 Reader, methinks I should prevail with thee. All 
 that I beg for is but this, that thou wouldst step 
 aside a little oftener to talk with God and thine own 
 heart ; that thou wouldst not suffer every trifle to 
 divert thee; that thou wouldst keep a more true and 
 faithful account of thy thoughts and affections ; that 
 thou wouldst but seriously demand of thine own 
 heart, at least every evening, O my heart, where 
 hast thou been to-day ? whither hast thou made a 
 road to-day ? — If all that hath been said, by way of 
 inducement, be not enough, I have yet more motives 
 to offer you ; and the first is this : 
 
 Motive 1. The studying, observing, and diligent 
 keeping of your own hearts, will marvellously help 
 your understanding in the deep mysteries of religion. 
 
 An honest, well-experienced heart, is a singular 
 help to a weak head : such a heart will serve you in- 
 stead of a commentary, upon a great part of the 
 Scriptures. By this means you shall far better un- 
 derstand the things of God, than the learned rabbles 
 and profound doctors (if graceless and inexperienced) 
 ever did ; you shall not only have a more clear, but 
 a more sweet perception and gust of them. A man 
 may discourse orthodoxly and profoundly of the na- 
 ture and effects of faith, the troubles and comforts of 
 conscience, the sweetness of communion with God, 
 that never felt the efficacy and sweet impression of 
 these things upon his own spirit. But O how dark 
 and dry are these notions, compared with his upon 
 whose heart they have been acted ! When such a 
 man reads David's Psalms, or Paul's Epistles, there 
 he finds his own objections made and answered. O, 
 saith he, these holy men speak my very heart ! their 
 I 60 
 
194 
 
 doubts were mine, their troubles mine, and their ex- 
 periences mine. I remember Chrysostome, speaking 
 to his people of Antioch about some choice experi- 
 ences, useth this expression : " Those that are ini- 
 tiated know what I say ; experience is the best 
 schoolmaster." O then ! study your hearts, keep 
 your hearts. 
 
 Motive 2. The study and observation of your 
 own hearts will be an antidote to you against the 
 dangerous and infecting errors of the times and places 
 you live in. 
 
 For what think you is the reason that so many 
 professors in England have departed from the faith, 
 giving heed to fables ; that so many thousands have 
 been led away by the error of the wicked ; that Je- 
 suits and Quakers, who have sown corrupt doctrine, 
 have had such plentiful harvests among us, — but be- 
 cause they have met with a company of empty no- 
 tional professors, that never knew what belongs to 
 practical godliness, and the study of their own hearts? 
 If professors did but give diligence to study, search, 
 and watch their own hearts, they would have that 
 steadfastness of their own that Peter speaks of, 1 Pet. 
 iii. 17. ; and this would ballast and settle them, Heb. 
 xiii. 9. Suppose a subtle Papist should talk to such 
 of the dignity and merit of good works, could he ever 
 work the persuasion of it into that heart that is con- 
 scious to itself of so much darkness, deadness, distrac- 
 tion, and unbelief, attending its best duties ? It is a 
 good rule. There is no disputing against taste. What 
 a man hath felt and tasted, one cannot beat him off 
 from by argument. 
 
 Motive 3. Your care and diligence in keeping your 
 
195 
 
 hearts will prove one of the best evidences of your 
 sincerity. 
 
 I know no external act of religion that differences 
 the sound from the unsound professor. It is wonder- 
 ful to consider, how far hypocrites go in all external 
 duties, how plausibly they can order the outward man, 
 hiding all their indecencies from the observation of the 
 world. But then, they take no heed to their hearts ; 
 they are not in secret, what they appear to be in pub- 
 lic ; and before this trial no hypocrite can stand. It is 
 confessed, they may in a fit, under a pang upon a death- 
 bed, cry out of the wickedness of their hearts ; but 
 alas ! there is no heed to be taken to these extorted 
 complaints in our law ; no credit is to be given to the 
 testimony of one upon the rack, because it may be 
 supposed that the extremity of the torture may make 
 him say any thing to be eased : but if self-jealousy, 
 care, and watchfulness, be the daily workings and 
 frames of thy heart, it strongly argues the sincerity 
 of it. For what but the sense of a divine eye, what 
 but the real hatred of sin as sin, could put thee upon 
 those secret duties which lie out of the observation 
 of all creatures ? If, then, it be a desirable thing in 
 thine eyes to have a fair testimony of thine integrity, 
 and to know of a truth that thou fearest God, then 
 study thine heart, watch thy heart, keep thy heart. 
 
 Motive 4. How fruitful, sweet, and comfortable 
 would all ordinances and duties be to us, if our hearts 
 were better kept ! 
 
 O what precious communion might you have with 
 
 God every time you approach him, if your hearts were 
 
 but in frame ! You might then say with David, " My 
 
 meditation of him shall be sweet." That which loses 
 
 I 2 
 
196 
 
 all our comforts in ordinances and more secret duties, 
 is the indisposedness of the heart. A Christian, 
 whose heart is in a good frame, gets the start of all 
 others that come with him in that duty. They strive 
 hard to get up their hearts to God ; now trying this 
 argument upon them, and then that, to quicken and 
 aflPect them, and sometimes go away as bad as they 
 came. Sometimes the duty is almost ended before 
 their hearts begin to stir or feel any warmth, quick- 
 ening, or power from it ; but all this while the pre- 
 pared heart is at its work : this is he that ordinarily 
 gets the sight of Christ in a sermon, the first seal 
 from Christ in a sacrament, the first kiss from Christ 
 in secret prayer. I tell you, and I tell you but what 
 I have felt, that prayers and sermons would appear 
 to you other manner of things than they do, did you 
 but bring better ordered hearts to them. You would 
 not go away dejected and drooping : O this hath been 
 a lost day, a lost duty to me. If you had not lost your 
 hearts it had not been so. If, then, the comfort of 
 ordinances be sweet, look to your hearts, keep your 
 hearts. 
 
 Motive 5. Acquaintance with your own hearts 
 would be a fountain of matter to you in prayer. 
 
 A man that is diligent in heart -work, and knows 
 the state of his own soul, will have a fountain-fulness 
 of matter to supply him richly in all his addresses to 
 God. His tongue shall not faulter and make pause 
 for want of matter : " My heart is inditing a good 
 matter :" or, as Montanus renders the original, " My 
 heart is boiling up good matter, like a living spring 
 that is still bubbhng up fresh water." And then, 
 " My tongue is as the pen of a ready writer." Others 
 
197 
 
 must pump their memories, rack their inventions, and 
 are often at a loss when they have done all : but it" 
 thou hast kept and faithfully studied thine own heart, 
 it will be with thee, as Job speaks in another case, 
 " like bottles full of new wine, that want vent, which 
 are ready to burst." As holy matter flows plen- 
 tifully, so more feelingly and sweetly from such 
 a heart. When a heart-experienced Christian is 
 mourning before God over some special heart-corrup- 
 tion, wrestling with God for the supply of some spe- 
 cial inward want, he speaks not as other men do that 
 have learned to pray by rote : their confessions and 
 petitions are squeezed out ; his drop freely, like pure 
 honey from the comb. It is a happiness, then, to be 
 with or near such a Christian. I remember Ber- 
 nard, having given rules to prepare the heart for 
 prayer, concludes them thus : " When thy heart is 
 in this frame, then remember me." 
 
 Motive 6. By this the decayed power of religion 
 will be recovered again among professors, which is 
 the most desirable sight in this world. 
 
 O that I might live to see that day, when pro- 
 fessors shall not walk in a vain show ; when they 
 shall please themselves no more with a name to live, 
 being spiritually dead ; when they shall be no more, 
 as many of them now are, a company of frothy, vain, 
 and unserious persons: but the majestic beams of holi- 
 ness, shining from their heavenly and serious con- 
 versations, shall awe the world, and command reve- 
 rence from all that are about them ; when they shall 
 warm the hearts of those that come nigh them, so 
 that men shall say, " God is in these men of a truth !" 
 Well, such a time may again be expected, according to 
 
198 
 
 that promise, " The people shall be all righteous." 
 But, till we. pursue closer this great work of keeping 
 our hearts, I am out of hopes of seeing those blessed 
 days : I cannot expect better times, till God gives 
 better hearts. Doth it not grieve you to see what a 
 scorn religion is made in the world — what objects of 
 contempt and scorn the professors of it are made in 
 the world ? 
 
 Professors, would you recover your credit ? would 
 you again obtain an honourable testimony in the 
 consciences of your very enemies ? then keep your 
 hearts, watch your hearts. It is the looseness, frothi- 
 ness, and earthliness of your hearts that hath made 
 your lives so. And this hath brought you under the 
 contempt of the world : you first lose your sight of 
 God and communion with him, then your heavenly 
 and serious deportment among men ; and by that, 
 your interest in their consciences. O then, for the 
 credit of religion, for the honour of your profession, 
 keep your hearts ! 
 
 Motive 7. By diligence in keeping your hearts, 
 we should prevent and remove the fatal scandals and 
 stumbling-blocks out of the way of the world. 
 
 " Woe to the world," saith Christ, " because of 
 offences." Doth not shame cover your faces ? do not 
 your hearts bleed within you, to hear of the scandal- 
 ous miscarriages of many loose professors ? Could you 
 not, like Shem and Japheth, go backward with a gar- 
 ment to cover the shame of many professors ! How 
 is that worthy name blasphemed ! James ii. 7. 2 Sam. 
 xii. 13, 14.; the hearts of the righteous saddened ! 
 Psal. XXV. 3. Ezek. xxxvi. 20. ; by this the world 
 fearfully prejudiced against Christ and religion ! the 
 
199 
 
 bonds of death made fast upon their souls ! those that 
 had a general love and likmg to the ways of God 
 startled and quite driven back, and thus soul-blood 
 is shed ! " Woe to the world !" 
 
 Yea, how are consciences of fallen professors 
 plunged, and even overwhelmed in the deeps of trou- 
 ble ! God inwardly excommunicating their souls 
 from all comfortable fellowship with himself, and the 
 joys of his salvation ! Infinite are the mischiefs that 
 come by the scandalous lives of professors. 
 
 And what is the true cause and reason of all this, 
 but the neglecting of their hearts ? Were our hearts 
 better kept, all this would be prevented : had David 
 kept his heart, he had not broken his bones. A 
 negligent careless heart, must of necessity produce a 
 disorderly scandalous life. I thank God for the free- 
 dom and faithfulness of a reverend brother,* in show- 
 ing professors their manifold miscarriages ; and from 
 my heart do wish, that when their wounds have been 
 thoroughly searched by that probe, God would be 
 pleased to heal them by this plaster. O professors ! 
 if ever you will keep religion sweet, if ever you hope 
 to recover the credit of it in the world, keep your 
 hearts : either keep your hearts^ or lose your credit ; 
 keep your hearts, or lose your comforts ; keep your 
 hearts, lest you shed soul-blood. What words can 
 express the deep concerns, the wonderful conse- 
 quences of this work ! Every thing puts a necessity, 
 a solemnity, a beauty upon it. 
 
 Motive 8. A heart well kept will fit you for any 
 condition God casts you into, or any service he hath 
 to use you in. 
 
 * Gospel-glass. 
 
200 
 
 He that hath learned how to keep his heart lowly, 
 is fit for prosperity ; and he that knows how to use 
 and apply it to scripture promises and supports, is 
 fit to pass through any adversity : he that can deny 
 the pride and selfishness of his heart, is fit to be em- 
 ployed in any service for God. Such a man was 
 Paul : he did not only spend his time in preaching to 
 others, in keeping others' vineyards, but he looked to 
 himself, kept his own vineyard : *' Lest when I have 
 preached to others, I myself should be a cast- away." 
 And what an eminent instrument was he for God ! 
 he could turn his hand to any work, he could dexter- 
 ously manage both an adverse and prosperous con- 
 dition : " I know how to abound, and how to suffer 
 want." Let the people deify him, it moves him not, 
 unless to indignation ; let them stone him, he can 
 bear it: "If a man purge himself from these," saith 
 he, " he shall be a vessel unto honour, sanctified, and 
 meet for the master's use, and prepared unto every 
 good work." 
 
 First, the heart must be purged ; and then it is 
 prepared for any service of God. When the heart 
 of Isaiah was purified, which was the thing signified 
 by the touching of his Hps with a coal from the altar, 
 then he was fit for God's work : " Here am I, send 
 me." A man that hath not learned to keep his heart, 
 put him upon any service for God, and if it be attended 
 with honour, it shall swell up and overtop his spirit ; 
 if with suffering, it will exanimate and sink him. 
 
 Jesus Christ had an instrumental 'fitness for his 
 Father's work, above all the servants that ever God 
 employed. He was zealous in public work for God ; 
 so zealous, that sometimes he forgot to eat bread, yea, 
 
SOI 
 
 that his friends thought he had been beside himself. 
 But yet, he so carried on his pubHc work, as not to 
 forget his own private communion with God : and 
 therefore you read, (Matt. xiv. 23.) that when he had 
 been labouring all day, yet, after that, " he went up 
 to a mountain apart to pray, — and was there alone." 
 O let the keepers of the vineyards look to their own 
 vineyard ! We shall never be so instrumental to the 
 good of others, as when we are most diligent about 
 our own souls. 
 
 Motive 9. If the people of God would more dili- 
 gently keep their hearts, how exceedingly would the 
 communion of saints be thereby sweetened ! 
 
 How goodly then would be thy tents, O Jacob, 
 and thy tabernacles, O Israel ! Then, as it is pro- 
 phesied of the Jews, " Men would say, we will go 
 with you ; for we have heard that God is among you." 
 It is the fellowship your souls have with the Father 
 and with the Son, that draws out the desires of others 
 after fellowship with you. I tell you, if saints would 
 be persuaded to take more pains, and spend more 
 time about their hearts, there would quickly be such 
 a divine lustre upon the face of their conversations, 
 that men would account it no small privilege to be 
 with or near them. 
 
 It is the pride, passion, and earthliness of our hearts 
 that have spoiled Christian fellowship. Whence is 
 it, that when Christians meet they are often jarring 
 and contending, but only from their unmortified pas- 
 sions ? Whence are their uncharitable censures of 
 their brethren, but only from self-ignorance ? Why 
 are they so rigid and unmerciful towards those that 
 are fallen, but because they consider not themselves, 
 i3 
 
202 
 
 as the apostle speaks? Gal. vi. 1. Why is their 
 discourse so frothy and unprofitable when they meet ? 
 Is not this from the earthliness and vanity of their 
 hearts ? 
 
 My brethren, these be the things that have spoiled 
 Christian fellowship, and made it become a dry and 
 sapless thing; so that many Christians are even 
 weary of it, and are ready to say with the prophet, 
 " O that I had a cottage in the wilderness," &c. 
 " that I might leave my people, and go from them !" 
 and with David, " My soul hath long dwelt with 
 them that hate peace." This hath made them long 
 for the grave, that they might go from them that are 
 not their own people, to them that are their own peo- 
 ple, as the original of that text imports, 2 Cor. v. 8. 
 
 But now, if professors would study their own 
 hearts more, watch and keep them better, all this 
 would be prevented, and the beauty and glory of 
 communion again restored. They would divide no 
 more, contend no more, censure rashly no more : 
 when their hearts are in tune their thoughts will not 
 jar. How charitable, pitiful, and tender will they be 
 one of another, when every one is daily humbled 
 under the evils of his own heart ! Lord, hasten those 
 much-desired days, and bless these counsels in order 
 to them. 
 
 Motive 10. Lastly, by this the comforts of the 
 Spirit, and precious influences of all ordinances, would 
 be fixed, and much longer preserved in your souls 
 than now they are. 
 
 Ah ! what would I give that my soul might be 
 preserved in that frame I sometimes find it in after 
 an ordinance ! " Sometimes, O Lord," saith one 
 
203 
 
 of the fathers sweetly, " thou admittest me into the 
 most inward, unusual, and sweet delights — to 1 know 
 not what sweetness — which, were it perfected in me, 
 I know not what it would be, or rather, what it would 
 not be." But, alas ! the heart grows careless again, 
 and quickly returns, like water removed from the fire, 
 to its native coldness. Could you but keep those 
 things for ever in your hearts, what Christians would 
 you be, what lives would you live ! And how is it 
 that these things remain no longer with us ? Doubt- 
 less it is because we suffer our hearts to take cold 
 again. We should be as careful after an ordinance 
 or duty to prevent this, as one that comes out of a 
 hot bath, or great sweat, is of going out into the chill 
 air. We have our hot and cold fits by turns ; and 
 what is the reason, but our unskilfulness and care- 
 lessness in keeping the heart ? 
 
 It is a thousand pities that the ordinances of God, 
 as to their quickening and comforting effects, should 
 be like those human ordinances the apostle speaks of, 
 that " perish in the using." O then let me say to you, 
 as Job, " Do the consolations of God seem small to 
 you ?" Look over these ten special benefits, weigh 
 them in a just balance : are they small matters ? Is 
 it a small matter to have thy weak understanding as- 
 sisted; thy endangered soul antidoted ; thy sincerity 
 cleared ; thy communion with God sweetened ; thy 
 sails filled in prayer ? Is it a small thing to have 
 decayed power of godliness again recovered ; all fatal 
 scandals removed; an instrumental fitness to serve 
 Christ obtained ; the communion of saints restored 
 to its primitive glory; and the influences of ordi- 
 nances abiding in the souls of saints ? If these 
 
^04 
 
 be no common blessings, no small benefits, then 
 surely it is a great duty to " keep the heart with all 
 diligence." 
 
 III. Use — Direction. 
 
 The next use shall be for direction to some special 
 means for the keeping of the heart. And here, be- 
 sides what hath been hinted in the explication of the 
 duty at the beginning of this discourse, to which I 
 refer the reader, and all those directions throughout 
 the whole appropriated to particular cases and seasons, 
 I shall farther add several other general means, of 
 excellent use to this end — and the first is this : 
 
 Means 1. Would you thus keep your hearts as 
 hath been persuaded, then furnish your hearts richly 
 with the word of God, which is their best preserva- 
 tive against sin. 
 
 Keep the word, and the word will keep you. As 
 the first receiving of the word regenerated your hearts, 
 so the keeping of the word within you will preserve 
 your hearts. " Let the word of Christ dwell richly 
 in you." Let it dwell, not tarry with you for a night : 
 and let it dwell richly or plentifully — in all that is of 
 it, in its commands, promises, threats — in all that is 
 in you, in your understanding, memories, consciences, 
 affections; and then it will preserve your hearts. 
 " Thy word have I hid in mine heart, that I might 
 not sin against thee." It is the slipperiness of our 
 hearts, in reference to the word, that causes so many 
 slips in our lives. Conscience cannot be urged or 
 awed with forgotten truths ; but keep it in the heart, 
 and it will keep both heart and life upright : " The 
 
205 
 
 law of his God is in his heart ; none of his steps shall 
 slide." Or, if. he do, the word will recover the 
 straying heart again : " Then Peter remembered the 
 words of Jesus, and wept bitterly." We never lose 
 our hearts, till they have first lost the efficacious and 
 powerful impressions of the word. 
 
 Means 2. Call your hearts frequently to an ac- 
 count, if ever you mean to keep them with God. 
 
 Those that put a stock into the hands of unfaith- 
 ful or suspicious servants, vvill be sure to make short 
 reckonings with them : " The heart is deceitful above 
 all things, and desperately wicked." O it is as neces- 
 sary as sweet, that we and our reins, that is, we and 
 our secret thoughts, should confer together every 
 night ! We should call our hearts to account every 
 evening, and say, O my heart ! where hast thou been 
 to-day? where have thy thoughts been wandering 
 to-day ? what account canst thou give of them ? O 
 naughty heart, vain heart ! couldst thou not abide by 
 the Fountain of delights? Is there better enter- 
 tainment with the creature than with God? The 
 oftener the heart meets with rebukes and checks for 
 wandering, the less it will wander. If every vain 
 thought were retracted with a sigh, every excursion 
 of the heart from God with a severe check, it would 
 not dare so boldly and frequently to digress and step 
 aside. Those actions which are committed with re- 
 luctancy, are not committed with frequency. 
 
 Means 3. He that will keep his heart, must take 
 heed of plunging himself into such a multiplicity of 
 earthly business as he cannot manage, without ne- 
 glecting his main business. 
 
 It cannot be imagined he should keep his heart 
 
206 
 
 with God, that hath lost himself in a wood of earthly 
 business. Take heed you do not pinch your souls, 
 by gratifying the immoderate desires of your flesh, I 
 wish many Christians could truly say, what a heathen 
 once did, " I do not give, but only lend myself to 
 my business." It is said Germanicus reigned in the 
 hearts of the Romans, Tiberius only in their provinces. 
 Though the world be in your hands, let it not jostle 
 Christ out of your hearts. 
 
 Take heed, Christian, lest thy shop steal away 
 thy heart from thy closet. God never intended 
 earthly employments for a stop, but rather for a step 
 to heavenly ones. O let not Aristippus the heathen 
 arise in judgment against thee, who said, " He would 
 rather neglect his means than his mind; his farm than 
 his soul." If thy ship be overladen, thou must cast 
 some overboard : more business than thou canst well 
 manage, is like more meat than thou canst well di- 
 gest, which will quickly make a sickly soul. 
 
 Means 4. He that means to keep his heart, must 
 carefully observe its first declinings from God, and 
 stop it there. 
 
 He that will find his house in good repair, must 
 stop every chink as soon as discovered ; and he that 
 will keep his heart, must not let a vain thought be 
 long neglected. The serpent of heart-apostacy is best 
 killed in the egg of a small remission. O if many 
 poor decayed Christians had looked to their hearts in 
 time, they had never come to that sad pass they now 
 are ! We may say of heart-neglects, as the apostle 
 doth of vain babblings, that they increase to more 
 and more ungodliness. Nemo repente Jit turpissi- 
 mus : Little sins neglected will quickly become great 
 
207 
 
 and masterless. The greatest crocodile once lay in 
 an egg, the greatest oak was once but an acorn. The 
 firing of a small train of powder may blow up all, by 
 leading to a greater quantity. Men little think 
 what a proud, vain, wanton, or worldly thought may 
 grow to. " Behold, how great a matter a little fire 
 kindles !" 
 
 Means 5. Take heed of losing the liveliness and 
 sweetness of your communion with God, lest thereby 
 your hearts be loosed off from God. 
 
 The heart is a hungry and restless thing; it will 
 have something to feed upon. If it enjoy nothing 
 from God, it will hunt for something among the crea- 
 tures ; and there it often loses itself, as well as its end. 
 There is nothing more engages the heart to a con- 
 stancy and evenness in walking with God, than the 
 sweetness which it tastes therein : as the Gauls, when 
 once they tasted the sweet wine of Italy, could never 
 be satisfied till they conquered the country where it 
 grew. 
 
 It is true, conscience of duty may keep the heart 
 from neglecting it ; but when there is no higher mo- 
 tive, it drives on deadly, and is filled with distractions. 
 That which we delight in, we are never weary of; 
 as is evident in the motions of the heart to earthly 
 things, where the wheels, being oiled with delight, 
 run nimbly, and have often need of trigging. The 
 motions of the heart upward would be as free, if its 
 delight in heavenly things were as great. 
 
 Means 6. Habituate thy heart to spiritual medi- 
 tations, if thou wouldst have it freed from those bur- 
 densome diversions. 
 
 By this means you will get a faciUty and dexterity 
 
208 
 
 in heart-work. It is a pity those smaller portions 
 of our time betwixt solemn duties should lie upon 
 our hands, and be rendered useless to us, O learn 
 to save, and be good husbands upon your thoughts ! 
 To this purpose Boyle speaks: " These parentheses, 
 which happen to come between the more solemn pas- 
 sages (whether business or recreations) of human life, 
 are wont to be lost by most men, for want of a due 
 value for them ; and even by good men, for want of 
 skill to preserve them. For though they do not pro- 
 perly despise them, yet they neglect or lose them, 
 for want of knowing how to rescue them, or what to 
 do with them. But although grains of sand and ashes 
 be, apart, but of a despicable smallness, and liable to 
 be scattered and blown away, yet the skilful artificer, 
 by a vehement fire, brings numbers of those to afford 
 him that noble substance, glass, by whose help we 
 may both see ourselves and our blemishes lively repre- 
 sented, (as in looking-glasses) ; and discern celestial 
 objects, (as with telescopes) ; and with the sun-beams 
 kindle disposed materials, (as with burning-glasses.) 
 So, when these little fragments or parcels of time, 
 which, if not carefully looked to, would be dissipated 
 and lost, come to be managed by a skilful coi>tem- 
 plator, and to be improved by the celestial fire of 
 devotion, they may be so ordered as to afford us both 
 looking-glasses to dress our souls by, and prospectives 
 to discover heavenly wonders, and incentives to inflame 
 our hearts with zeal." — Thus far he. 
 
 Something of that nature I have under hand, for 
 a public benefit, if God give life to finish and oppor- 
 tunity to produce it. Certainly this is a great ad- 
 vantage for the keeping of the heart with God. 
 
209 
 
 IV. Use — Co?isolation. 
 
 1 shall now close the whole with a word or two of 
 consolation to all diligent and serious Christians that 
 faithfully and closely apply heart-work — that are 
 groaning and weeping in secret over the hardness, 
 pride, earthliness, and vanity of their hearts; that 
 are fearing and trembling over the experienced de- 
 ceitfulness and falseness of them, whilst other vain 
 professors' eyes are abroad, their time and strength 
 eaten up by fruitless disputes and earthly employ- 
 ments ; or at best by a cold and formal performance 
 of some heartless and empty duties. Poor Christian, 
 I have three things to offer thee in order to thy sup- 
 port and comfort ; and doubtless either of them alone, 
 mixed with faith, is sufficient to comfort thee over all 
 the trouble thou hast with thine own heart. 
 
 Comfort 1. This argues thy heart to be upright 
 and honest, whatever thy gifts and abilities are. 
 
 It is uprightness of heart will comfort thee upon 
 a death-bed. " Then he turned his face to the wall, 
 and prayed to the Lord, saying, Remember now, 
 O Lord, how I have walked before thee in truth, 
 and with a perfect heart," &c. 
 
 I am really of his mind who said, " Might I have 
 my wish, I would prefer the most despicable and 
 sordid work of a rustic Christian, before all the vic- 
 tories and triumphs of Alexander or Csesar;" yea, 
 let me add, before all the elaborated duties and ex- 
 cellent gifts of vain professors, before the tongues of 
 men and angels : it will signify more to my comfort 
 to spend one solitary hour in mourning before the 
 
210 
 
 Lord over heart-corruption, than many hours in a 
 seeming zealous, but really dead performance of com- 
 mon duties, with the greatest enlargements and richest 
 embellishments of parts and gifts. 
 
 By this very thing Christ distinguishes the formal 
 and serious Christian, Matt. vi. 5. The one is for 
 the street and synagogue, for the observation and 
 applause of men, but the other is a closet man ; he 
 drives on a home trade, a heart trade. Never be 
 troubled then for the want of those thinors that a man 
 may have, and be eternally damned ; but rather bless 
 God for that which none but the favourites and dar- 
 lings of heaven have : many a one is now in hell that 
 had a better head than thine, and many a one now 
 in heaven that complained of as bad a heart as thine. 
 
 Comf. 2. Know farther for thy comfort, that God 
 would never leave thee under so many heart troubles 
 and burdens, if he intended not thy real benefit 
 thereby. 
 
 Thou art often crying out. Lord, why is it thus ? 
 why go I mourning all the day, having sorrow in my 
 heart? thus long have I been exercised with hard- 
 ness of heart, and to this day have not obtained a 
 broken heart. Many years have I been praying and 
 striving against vain thoughts, yet am still infested 
 and perplexed with them. O when shall I get a 
 better heart ! I have been in travail, and brought 
 forth but wind : I have obtained no deliverance, 
 neither have the corruptions of my heart fallen. I 
 have brought this heart many times to prayers, ser- 
 mons, and sacraments, expecting and hoping for a cure 
 from them, and still my sore runneth and ceaseth not. 
 
 Pensive soul ! let this comfort thee : thy God de- 
 
211 
 
 signs thy benefit, even by tliese occasions of thy sad 
 complaints. For, 1. Hereby he would let thee see 
 what thy heart by nature is and was, and therein take 
 notice how much thou art beholden to free grace. 
 He leaves thee under these exercises of spirit that 
 thou mayest lie as with thy face upon the ground, 
 admiring that ever the Lord of glory should take so 
 vile a creature into his bosom. Thy base heart, if it 
 be good for nothing else, yet serves to commend and 
 set off the unsearchable riches of free grace. 2, 
 This serves to beat thee oft' continually from resting, 
 yea, or but glancing upon thine own righteousness or 
 excellency. The corruption of thy heart, working in 
 all thy duties, makes thee sensibly to feel that the bed 
 is too short, and the covering too narrow. Were it 
 not for those reflections thou hast after duties, upon 
 the dulness and distractions of thine heart in them, 
 how apt wouldst thou be to fall in love with, and ad- 
 mire thine own performances and enlargements ! for 
 if, notwithstanding these, thou hast much to do with 
 the pride of thy heart, how much more, if such 
 humbling and self-abasing considerations were want- 
 ing ! And lastly, This tends to make thee the more 
 compassionate and tender towards others. Perhaps 
 thou wouldst have little pity for the distresses and 
 soul-troubles of others, if thou hadst less experience 
 of thine own. 
 
 Comf. 3. To conclude, God will shortly put a 
 blessed end to all these troubles, cares, and watchings. 
 
 The time is coming when thy heart shall be as 
 thou wouldst have it ; when thou shalt be discharged 
 of these cares, fears, and sorrows, and never cry out. 
 Oh ! my hard, my proud, my vain, my earthly heart, 
 
21^ 
 
 any more ; when all darkness shall be banished from 
 thine understanding, and thou shalt clearly dis- 
 cover all truths in God, that crystal ocean of truth; 
 when all vanity shall be purged perfectly out of thy 
 thoughts, and they be everlastingly, ravishingly, and 
 delightfully entertained and exercised upon that su- 
 preme goodness, and infinite excellency of God, 
 from whom they shall never start any more like a 
 broken bow. And as for thy pride, passion, earthli- 
 ness, and all other the matters of thy complaint and 
 trouble, it shall be said of them as of the Egyptians 
 to Israel, " Stand still, and see the salvation of God." 
 These corruptions thou seest to-day, henceforth thou 
 shalt see them no more for ever : when thou shalt 
 lay down thy weapons of prayers, tears, and groans, 
 and put on the armour of light, not to fight but 
 triumph in. 
 
 Lord ! when shall this blessed day come ? How 
 long ? how long ? Holy and True ! My soul waiteth 
 for thee. " Come, my Beloved, and be thou like a 
 roe or a young hart upon the mountains of Bether." 
 Amen. 
 
THE 
 
 TOUCHSTONE OF SINCERITY; 
 
 OR, THE 
 
 SIGNS OF GRACE, 
 
 AND 
 
 SYMPTOMS OF HYPOCRISY. 
 
EPISTLE TO THE READER. 
 
 Among the difficulties and severities of true religion, 
 the faithful searching and diligent keeping of our 
 hearts are found in the first and highest rank of dif- 
 ficulties. These two take up the main work of a 
 Christian betwixt them. I had hopes that these 
 Essays for the searching of the heart, might much 
 sooner have followed my former Treatise for keeping 
 the heart.* But Providence has reserved it for the 
 fittest season. 
 
 It comes to thy hand, Reader, in a day of straits 
 and fears, a dark and gloomy season, when the nations 
 about us are made drunk with their own blood, and 
 filled with the wine of astonishment ; in a day when 
 the cup is ready to pass unto us, and a storm seems 
 to be rising in the fears of many, and threatening the 
 Protestant interest in these reformed nations. Some 
 men very eminent for piety and learning, from that 
 scripture. Rev. xiii. 3. " The deadly wound," that is, 
 the wound given the beast by the Reformation, " was 
 healed," have concluded that Popery will once more 
 overrun the reformed nations. And one of great 
 
 • The Saint Indeed. 
 
n6 
 
 renown in all the churches of Christ, foretelling this 
 furious but short storm, comforts the people of God 
 with this, that it is likely to fall heaviest upon the 
 worshippers in the outward court, the formal profes- 
 sors of the times. O how much is every man now 
 concerned to have his state and condition well cleared, 
 and to give all diligence to make his calling and elec- 
 tion sure ! 
 
 It should both amaze and grieve a pious mind, to 
 see how some ingenious persons can sit with unwea- 
 ried patience and pleasure, racking their brams upon 
 some dry school problem, or some nice mathematical 
 point, whilst no reasons or persuasions can prevail with 
 them to spend one serious hour in the search and 
 study of their own hearts ! 
 
 It was a saying of the great Cicero, " 1 would give 
 all the wealth in the world that 1 might wholly live 
 in my studies, and have nothing to hinder me." A\ hat 
 a brave offer had that been, if heaven, and the clear- 
 ing of a title to it, had been the subject-matter of 
 these studies ! " Believe me," says another, " it 
 were a sweet death to die in the study of the mathe- 
 matical arts." And 1 should be ready to believe it 
 too, did I not know that eternal judgment imme- 
 diately follows death ; and that they who stand at the 
 door of eternity have higher matters to mnid than 
 mathematical niceties. To discern the harmonies and 
 proportions in nature is pleasant; but to discern the 
 harmony and proportion of the signs of grace laid 
 down in the word, with the works of grace wrought 
 in our souls, is a far more pleasant and necessary em- 
 ployment; and to be extinguished in such a work as 
 this were a lovely death indeed. " Blessed is that ser- 
 
217 
 
 vant, whom his Lord, when he cometh, shall find so 
 doing !" 
 
 My friends, a day of trouble is near, a dying hour 
 approaches us ; and, when our eye-strings and heart- 
 strings are breaking, when we are taking the last 
 grasp of Christ and the promises, you will then know 
 to what purpose those hours spent in such a work as 
 this were. Search yourselves, yea, search yourselves, 
 before the decree bring forth, as that text may be read, 
 Zeph. ii. 1, 2. " Enter into thy chamber, and shut 
 thy door;" sit close to this employment thou art here 
 directed to : and however times shall govern, whether 
 it be fair or foul weather abroad, thou shalt never re- 
 p(nt such an expense of thy time. " I am never 
 bet'-.er," said a devout soul, " than when I am at my 
 boo c, or on my knees." 
 
 This may seem but a dull melancholy life to the 
 brisk and airy spirits of these times ; but let us be 
 content with it as it is, and leave them, if we cannot 
 have their company, to their sportiveness and frolics, 
 never once grudging them in their short and dear- 
 bought pleasures. Assurance that sin is pardoned 
 and Christ is ours, with the unspeakable joys that 
 are inseparably connected therewith, is that " white 
 stone, and new name, which none knoweth but he that 
 receiveth it ;" for no words can possibly explain to an- 
 other what the soul tastes and feels in such an hour 
 as this. And be not discouraged at the difficulty of 
 obtaining it. This white stone is no philosopher's 
 stone, which no man could ever say he had in his 
 hand ; for many a Christian has really found it in 
 waiting upon the Lord by prayer, and diligently search- 
 ing the Scriptures and his own heart. 
 
 K 60 
 
218 
 
 Reader, the time will come when they who scoff at 
 the serious diligence of the saints, and break many a 
 pleasant jest upon the most solemn and awful things 
 in religion, will tremble when they hear the midnight 
 cry, " Behold, the bridegroom cometh !" and see the 
 lamps of all vain and formal professors expire, and 
 none admitted to the marriage but such whose lamps 
 are furnished with oil, whose professions and duties 
 are enlivened and maintained by vital springs and 
 principles of real grace within them. 
 
 It Is a very remarkable story which Melchior 
 Adams records in the life of Gobelinus. He says, 
 that a little before his time there was a play exhi- 
 bited at Isenach in Germany, of the wise and foolish 
 virgins, wherein the Virgin Mary was one of the five 
 saints that represented the wise virgins. She was 
 brought in with the rest, telling the foolish virgins, 
 who cried to her for oil, that it was too late ; and 
 then others representing the foolish virgins, began to 
 weep and make most bitter lamentations. At this 
 Prince Frederic, who was one of the spectators, 
 greatly amazed, cried out, " What is our faith worth, 
 and to what purpose are all our good works, if neither 
 Mary nor any other saint can help us ?" And such 
 was his consternation, that it threw him into a sore 
 and violent disease, which ended in an apoplexy, 
 whereof he died about four days after. If the repre- 
 sentation of these things in a play ended the life of 
 so great a man so tragically, O think with thyself, 
 reader, what will the effects of the Lord's real ap- 
 pearance in the clouds of heaven, and the mourning 
 and waihng of the tribes of the earth in that day be ! 
 Think, I say, and think again and again, what the 
 
219 
 
 dismal effects of such a sight and sound will be upon 
 all who neglect serious preparation themselves, and 
 scoff at them who do prepare to meet the Lord ! 
 
 The design of this manual is to bring every man*s 
 gold to the touchstone and fire, I mean every man's 
 grace to the trial of the word ; that thereby we may 
 know what we are, what we have, and what we must 
 expect and trust to at the Lord's coming. I pretend 
 not to any gift of discerning of spirits : such an ex- 
 traordinary gift there once was in the church, and it 
 was very necessary for those times, wherein Satan 
 was so busy and the canon of Scripture not com- 
 pleted ; and some are of opinion, that by virtue of this 
 gift Peter discerned the hypocrisy of Ananias and 
 Sapphira. But whatever that gift was, it is utterly 
 ceased now ; no man can pretend to it. But the or- 
 dinary aids and assistances of the Spirit are with us 
 still, and the lively oracles are among us still: to 
 them we may freely go for the resolving of all doubts, 
 and the decision of perplexed cases. And thus we 
 may discern our own spirits, though we want the ex- 
 traordinary gift of discerning other men's spirits. 
 
 I have little to say of this Treatise, more than that 
 it is well aimed and designed, however it be managed. 
 The ear tries words, as the mouth tastes meat. These 
 things will relish according to the palates they meet 
 with. It is not the pleasing, but the profiting of 
 men, that I have herein laboured for. I know no- 
 thing in it that is likely to wound the upright, or 
 slightly heal the hypocrite, by crying, " Peace, peace, 
 when there is no peace." Scripture light has been 
 my cynosura ; and, with that thread in my hand, I 
 have followed the search of hypocrisy through the 
 K 2 
 
220 
 
 labyrinths of the heart. Some assistance I hope I 
 have had also from experience ; for Scripture and ex- 
 perience are such relative things, and the tie betwixt 
 them so discernible, that nothing in nature can be 
 more so. What we feel in our hearts, we might have 
 read in the Scriptures before we felt it. 
 
 That the blessing of God may go forth with it, 
 and accompany it to thy soul, reader, is the heart's 
 desire and prayer of. 
 
 Thine and the Church's 
 
 Servant in Christ, 
 
 JOHN FLAVEL. 
 
THE 
 
 TOUCHSTONE OF SINCERITY. 
 
 Revelation iii. 17, 18. 
 
 " Because thou sayest, I am rich, and increased with goods, and 
 have need of nothing; and knowest not that thou art wretched, 
 and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked : I counsel thee 
 to buy of me gold tried in the fire, that thou raayest be rich ; 
 and white raiment, that thou mayest be clothed, and that the 
 shame of thy nakedness do not appear ; and anoint thine eyes 
 with eye-salve, that thou mayest see." 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The text opened^ and the doctrines propounded. 
 
 Although the Revelation of St. John is a com- 
 pendium of intricate visions and obscure prophecies, 
 containing almost as many mysteries as words, yet 
 that cloud overshadows the prophetical part only, 
 which begins where this chapter, with the doctrinal 
 part, ends. Here the waters are found no deeper 
 than in other places of the Scripture ; but if we go 
 a little farther, they become an overflowing flood. 
 Hitherto we touch ground, but a step farther carries 
 us into the depths, which are above the heads of the 
 tallest Christians. Here the Spirit speaks doctrin- 
 
225 
 
 ally and perspicuously; but in the following chapters 
 mystically and in great obscurity. 
 
 Seven epistles are found in this doctrinal part, im- 
 mediately dictated from heaven, and sent by John to 
 the seven churches of Asia, to instruct, correct, en- 
 courage, and confirm them, as their several cases re- 
 quired. 
 
 My text falls in the last epistle sent to the church 
 of Laodicea, the worst and most degenerate of all 
 the rest. The best had their defects and infirmities, 
 but this laboured under the most dangerous disease 
 of all. The fairest face of the seven had some spots, 
 but a dangerous disease seems to have invaded the 
 very heart of this. Not that all were equally guilty, 
 but the greatest part, from which the whole is deno- 
 minated, were lukewarm professors ; men who had a 
 name to live, but were dead ; who, being never tho- 
 roughly engaged in religion, easily embraced that 
 principle of the Gnostics, which made it a matter of 
 indifferency to own or deny Christ in times of perse- 
 cution, the most saving doctrine that some professors 
 are acquainted with. This lukewarm temper Christ 
 hated : he was sick of them, and loathed their indif- 
 ferency: "I wish," says he, ver. 16. "thou wert 
 either cold or hot ;" an expression of the same mean- 
 ing with that in 1 Kings xviii. 21. " How long halt 
 ye between two opinions ?" and is manifestly trans- 
 lated from the qualities of water, which is either cold, 
 or hot, or lukewarm, a middle temper betwixt both, 
 and more nauseous to the stomach than either of the 
 former. Cold is the complexion and natural temper 
 of those who are wholly alienated and estranged from 
 Christ and religion ; hot is the gracious temper of 
 
S23 
 
 those who know and love Jesus Christ in an excel- 
 ling degree ; lukewarm is the temper of those who 
 have too much rehgion to be esteemed carnal, and too 
 little to be truly spiritual ; a generation that is too 
 politic to venture much, and yet so foolish as to lose 
 all ; they are loath to forsake truth wholly, and more 
 loath to follow it too closely : the form of religion 
 they affect as an honour, the power of it they judge 
 a burden. 
 
 This is that temper which the Lord hates ; and 
 this was the disease of Laodicea, which Christ, the 
 great and only heart-anatomist and soul physician, 
 discovers in ver. 17. and prescribes a cure for it in 
 ver, 18. : so that the words resolve themselves into 
 two parts : 1. A faithful discovery, and, 2. A proper 
 remedy of the disease of Laodicea. 
 
 I. Their disease is faithfully discovered to them, 
 both in its symptoms, cause, and aggravations. 
 
 1. Its symptoms; an unconcerned, indifferent, re- 
 gardless spirit, in matters of religion, neither hot nor 
 cold : the true temper of formal professors, who never 
 engage themselves thoroughly and heartily in the 
 ways of God, but can take or leave as times govern, 
 and worldly interest comes to be concerned. 
 
 2. Its cause and root ; which is the defect and 
 want of the truth, and power of inward grace, noted 
 in these expressions — " Thou art wretched and mi- 
 serable, poor, blind, and naked ;" thou are destitute 
 of a real principle, a solid work of grace. These five 
 epithets do all point at one and the same thing, the 
 defectiveness and rottenness of their foundation. 
 The two first, " wretched and miserable," are more 
 general, concluding them in a sad condition, a very 
 
224 
 
 sinful and lamentable estate ; the three last, " poor, 
 blind, and naked," are more particular, pointing at 
 those grand defects and flaws in the foundation, which 
 made their condition so wretched and miserable. 
 
 " Poor ;" that is, void of righteousness and true 
 holiness before God. These are the true riches of 
 Christians ; and whosoever wants them is poor and 
 miserable, how rich soever he be in gifts of the mind, 
 or treasures of the earth. 
 
 " Blind ;" without spiritual illumination, and so 
 neither knowing their disease nor their remedy, the 
 evil of sin, nor the necessity of Christ. 
 
 " Naked ;" without Christ and his righteousness. 
 Sin is the soul's shame and nakedness ; Christ's pure 
 and perfect righteousness is its covering or garment: 
 this they wanted, how richly soever their bodies were 
 adorned. These were Laodiceans ; that is, a just or 
 righteous people, according to the meaning of that 
 word ; whose garments, with which they covered 
 themselves, were made of the home-spun thread of 
 their own righteousness. 
 
 3. The disease of Laodicea is here opened to them 
 in its aggravations : " Thou saidst, I am rich, and 
 increased with goods, and have need of nothing ; but 
 knowest not that thou art wretched," &c. To be 
 really graceless and Christless, is a miserable condi- 
 tion ; but to be so, and yet confidently persuaded of 
 the contrary, is most miserable. To have the very 
 symptoms of death upon us, and yet to tell those who 
 pity us, that we are as well as they, is lamentable in- 
 deed. O the power of a spiritual delusion I This 
 was their disease, gracelessness ; and the aggravation 
 of it was, their senselessness. 
 
225 
 
 IL We have a proper remedy prescribed : " I 
 counsel thee to buy of me gold tried in the fire, that 
 thou mayest be rich ; and white raiment, that thou 
 mayest be clothed, and that the shame of thy naked- 
 ness do not appear ; and anoint thine eyes with eye- 
 salve, that thou mayest see." In which we have to 
 consider, 1. What is prescribed for the cure. 2. 
 Where it is to be had. 3. How it is to be obtained. 
 
 1. What are the remedies prescribed ? They 
 are three ; gold, white raiment, and eye-salve. First, 
 " gold," the cure of poverty, yea, " gold tried in the 
 fire ;" that is, grace which has been variously proved 
 already; and the more it is proved, the more its 
 truth will be conspicuous. The next is " white rai- 
 ment," the remedy against nakedness. And, lastly, 
 " eye-salve," the effectual cure of blindness. Under 
 all these choice metaphors, more choice and excellent 
 things are shadowed, even spiritual graces, real holi- 
 ness, more precious than gold. Christ's imputed 
 righteousness, the richest garment in all the ward- 
 robe of heaven ; and spiritual illumination, the most 
 excellent eye-salve that ever was, or can be applied 
 to the mental eye or understanding of man in this 
 world. 
 
 2. Where may these precious remedies be had ? 
 You find Christ has the monopoly of them all. " Buy 
 of me," says Christ in the text. He is the reposi- 
 tory of all graces. Angels, ministers, ordinances, 
 cannot furnish you with them without Christ. 
 
 3. How they may be obtained from him : " Buy of 
 me." On this place Estius and others build their 
 doctrine of merit ; which is to build a superstructure 
 of hay and stubble upon a foundation of gold. The 
 
 k3 
 
226 
 
 exigence of the very text itself destroys such con- 
 ceits : for what have they that are poor, wretched, 
 miserable, and in want of all things, to give as a price, 
 or by way of merit, for those inestimable treasures of 
 grace ? Buying, therefore, in this place, can signify 
 or intend no more than the acquisition, compassing, 
 or obtaining these things from Jesus Christ, in the 
 use of such means and methods as he has appointed ; 
 and in the use of them we merit grace no more than 
 the patient merits of his physician by coming to him, 
 and carefully following his prescriptions in the use of 
 such medicines as he freely gives them. And that 
 place, Isa. Iv. 1. from which this phrase seems to be 
 borrowed, fully clears it ; " He that hath no money, 
 let him come and buy wine and milk without money, 
 and without price." 
 
 From all which, these three observations fairly 
 offer themselves to us : — 
 
 Doctrine I. That many professors of religion 
 are under very great and dangerous mistakes in their 
 profession. 
 
 Doctrine II. That true grace is exceedingly 
 precious^ afid greatly enriches the soul that poS' 
 sesses it. 
 
 Doctrine III. That only is to he accounted 
 true grace, "dohich is able to endure all those trials 
 appointed or permitted for the discovery of it. 
 
 The first doctrine naturally arises out of the scope 
 of the text, which is to awaken and convince unsound 
 professors. The second, from the use which the 
 Holy Ghost makes of the best and choicest things in 
 nature, to shadow forth the inestimable worth and 
 
227 
 
 preciousness of grace. And the third, from that par- 
 ticular and most significant metaphor of gold tried in 
 the fire ; by which I here understand a real and solid 
 work of grace, evidencing itself to be so in all the 
 proofs and trials that are made of it : for whatsoever 
 tries grace, and puts its soundness and sincerity to 
 the test, is that to it which fire is to gold. In this 
 sense it is used in Scripture : " Thou hast tried us 
 as silver is tried ;" and, " I will bring the third part 
 through the fire, and will refine them as silver is re- 
 fined, and will try them as gold is tried." So that, 
 whatsoever it is which examines and tries grace whe- 
 ther it be sound and sincere, that is the fire Christ 
 here speaks of; and such grace as abides these trials, 
 is the gold here intended. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Doctrine I. — Many professors of Religion are 
 under very great and dangerous Mistakes in their 
 profession. 
 
 Sect. I. — All flattery is dangerous ; self-flattery is 
 more dangerous : but self-flattery in the business of 
 salvation is the most dangerous of all. 
 
 To pretend to the good we know we have not, is 
 gross hypocrisy ; to persuade ourselves of the good 
 w« have not, though we think we have it, is formal 
 hypocrisy: and this was the case of those self-de- 
 ceivers in the text. 
 
 My design in this discourse is not to shake the 
 
^8 
 
 well-built hopes of any man, or to beget groundless 
 jealousies, but to discover the real dangerous flaws in 
 the foundation of many men's hopes of heaven. Every 
 thing is as its foundation is ; and that failing, all fails. 
 
 There is a twofold self-suspicion or fear in God's 
 own people. The one is a fear of caution, awakening 
 the soul to the use of all the preventive means for 
 avoiding danger : this is laudable. The other is a 
 groundless suspicion of reigning hypocrisy, tending 
 only to despondency : this is culpable. By the for- 
 mer the soul is guarded against danger ; by the latter 
 it is betrayed into needless trouble, and debarred from 
 peace. 
 
 Good men have sometimes more fear than they 
 ought, and wicked men have less than they ought. 
 The former sometimes shut their eyes against the 
 fair evidences of their own graces; the latter shut 
 their eyes against the sad evidences of their sin and 
 misery. This is an evil in both, but not equally 
 dangerous : for he who shuts his eyes against his own 
 graces and privileges, loses but his peace and com- 
 fort for a time; but he who shuts his eyes against 
 the evidences of his sin and misery, loses his precious 
 soul to all eternity. Of this latter sort of self-de- 
 ceivers the world is full ; and these are the men I am 
 now concerned with. 
 
 O that some men had less trouble ! and O that 
 some had more ! If the foolish virgins had been less 
 confident, they had certainly been more safe. If 
 those glorious professors in Matt. vii. 22. had not 
 shut their eyes against their own hypocrisy, Christ 
 would not have shut against them the door of salva- 
 tion and glory. Ananias and Sapphira, Hymeneus 
 
229 
 
 and Philetus, Alexander and Demas, with multitudes 
 more of that sort, are sad instances and proofs of this 
 point. It is said in Prov. xxx. 12. that " there is a 
 generation that is pure in their own eyes, and yet is 
 not washed from their filthiness." Through what 
 false spectacles do the men of that generation look 
 upon their own souls ! The men of that generation 
 are multiplied in this generation. Never was any 
 age overrun with such a generation of vain, self- 
 deluding, formal professors, as this generation is. 
 
 Three things I shall here endeavour to do : — To 
 give evidence beyond contradiction to this sad truth, 
 that among professors are found many self-deceivers 
 — to assign the true causes and reasons why it is so 
 — and then improve the matter by those practical 
 inferences which the point affords. 
 
 Sect. II. — That there are multitudes of self-de- 
 ceivers among professors, will appear, 
 
 1. By this, that there are every where to be found 
 more professors than converts — unregenerate profes- 
 sors, whose religion is but the effect of education. 
 Christianity, by the favour of an early providence, 
 was the first comer; it first bespoke them for itself. 
 These are Christians of a human creation, rather 
 born than new-born believers. Now, all these are 
 self-deceived, and hasting to damnation, under the 
 efficacy of a strong delusion; « for if a man think 
 himself to be something when he is nothing, he de- 
 ceiveth himself," says the apostle. Surely our birth- 
 privilege without the new birth is nothing, yea, worse 
 than nothing, as to our last and great account. That 
 which stands for a great sum in our arithmetic is no- 
 thing; it is but a cipher in God's. " Except a man 
 
2S0 
 
 be born again," say the lips of truth, " he cannot see 
 the kingdom of God." Poor self-deceivers ! ponder 
 these words of Christ. You have hitherto thought 
 your moral education, your dead and heartless duties, 
 enough to denominate you Christians before God: 
 but go now, and learn what that scripture means; 
 and be assured that you must experience another 
 manner of conversion, or else it is impossible for you 
 to escape eternal damnation. 
 
 2. It is too manifest by this, that many professors 
 are acquainted with the externals of religion only ; 
 and that all their duties are no more than a compli- 
 ance of the outward man with the commands of God. 
 This is the superficial religion which deceives and be- 
 trays multitudes into eternal misery. True religion 
 seats itself in the inward man, and acts effectually 
 upon the vital powers, killing sin in the heart, and 
 purging its designs and delights from carnality and 
 selfishness ; engaging the heart for God, and setting 
 it as a bow in its full bent for him, in the approaches 
 we make to him. But how little are many profes- 
 sors acquainted with these things ! Alas ! if this be 
 all we have to stand upon, how dangerous a station 
 is it ! What is external conformity but an artificial 
 imitation of that which Hves only in the souls of good 
 men ? Thus was Jehu deceived : he did many acts 
 of external obedience to God's command ; " but Jehu 
 took no heed to walk in the ways of the Lord God of 
 Israel with all his heart." And this was his over- 
 throw. This was also the ruin of those formalists 
 in Ezek. xxxiii. 31. They came and sat before the 
 Lord as his people ; the word was to them as a lovely 
 song ; they were mightily chamied with the modula- 
 
\ 
 
 231 
 
 tion of the prophet's voice, and his lively gestures ; 
 but all the while their hearts went after their cove- 
 tousness. And what abundance of such pharisaical, 
 superficial religion, is every where to be found ! 
 
 3. It appears by this, that every trial made by 
 sufferings upon professors, blows away multitudes, 
 like dry leaves in autumn blown away by a stormy 
 wind. Many fall from their own steadfastness in 
 shaking times. Prosperity multiplies vain professors, 
 and adversity purges the church of them. " Then 
 shall many be offended." This the Scripture every 
 where marks as a symptom of hypocrisy : " A gene- 
 ration that set not their hearts aright, and whose spi- 
 rit was not steadfast with God." " But they went 
 out, that they might be made manifest that they were 
 not of us." " For when tribulation or persecution 
 ariseth because of the word, by and by he is offended." 
 But should any one have told them, in the days of 
 their first profession, that all their zeal and labour in 
 religion would have ended in this, it is likely that 
 they would have replied, as Hazael did to the man of 
 God, " But what ! is thy servant a dog, that he 
 should do this great thing ?" O how unlike is their 
 dark and dirty evening to their glorious and hopeful 
 morning ! These professors have more of the moon 
 than of the sun ; little light, less heat, but many 
 olianges. They deceive many, yea, they deceive 
 themselves, but they cannot deceive God. During 
 the calm what a flourish do they make, and with 
 what gallantry do they sail ! By and by you may 
 hear tempests, and soon after you may see dreadful 
 shipwrecks after a furious storm ; and no wonder, for 
 they wanted that ballast and establishment in them- 
 
232 
 
 selves that would have kept them tight and stable, 
 1 Peter iii. 17. 
 
 4. It is too apparent by this, that many professors 
 secretly indulge and shelter beloved lusts under the 
 wings of their profession. This, like a worm at the 
 root, will wither and kill them at last, how fragrant 
 soever they may seem to be for a season. Gideon 
 had seventy sons, and one bastard ; but that one bas- 
 tard was the death of all his seventy sons. Some 
 men have many excellent gifts, and perform multi- 
 tudes of duties ; but one secret sin indulged and al- 
 lowed will destroy them all at last. He who is partial 
 as to the mortification of his sins, is undoubtedly hypo- 
 critical in his profession. If David's evidence was 
 good for his integrity, surely such professors will 
 never clear themselves of hypocrisy. " I was also 
 upright before him, and kept myself from mine ini- 
 quity." This is the right eye and right hand which 
 every sincere Christian must pluck out, and cut off. 
 And this is a metaphor from surgeons, whose manner 
 it is, when the whole is in danger by any part, to cut 
 it off, lest all perish. Their suppressing some lust 
 raises their confidence ; the indulging of one destroys 
 the foundation of their hopes : and thus they deceive 
 themselves. 
 
 5. This also manifests the self-deceit of many pro- 
 fessors, that the secret duties of religion, or at least 
 the secret intercourse of the soul with God in them, 
 is a secret hid from their knowledge and experience. 
 
 To attend the ordinances of God in the seasons 
 of them, they know ; to pray in their families at the 
 stated hours thereof, they know ; but to retire from 
 all the world into their closets, and there to pour out 
 
233 
 
 their hearts before the Lord, they know not. To 
 feel somewhat within, paining them like an empty 
 hungry stomach, until they have eaten that hidden 
 manna, that bread in secret ; until they have re- 
 freshed their souls with real communion with tne 
 Lord there : this is a mystery locked up from the 
 acquaintance of many who call themselves real Chris- 
 tians ; and yet this is made a characteristic mark of 
 a sincere Christian by Christ himself, in Matt. vi. 6. 
 
 O reader ! if thy heart were right with God, and 
 thou didst not cheat thyself with a vain profession, 
 thou wouldst have frequent business with God, which 
 thou wouldst be loath thy dearest friend, or the wife 
 of thy bosom should be privy to. Religion does not 
 lay all open to the eyes of men. Observed duties 
 maintain our credit, but secret duties maintain our 
 life. It was the saying of a heathen about his secret 
 correspondence with his friends, " What need has 
 the world to be acquainted with it ? Thou and I 
 are theatre enough to each other." There are se- 
 cret pleasures in religion, which none but renewed 
 souls feelingly understand. 
 
 6. How many more profess religion in these days, 
 than ever made religion their business ! Philosophy 
 tells us that there is a main-business and a by-busi- 
 ness : the same is found in religion also. 
 
 There are who " give themselves to the Lord ;** 
 whose conversation or trade is in heaven ; the end 
 or scope of whose life is Christ ; who give religion 
 the precedency both in time and affection ; who are 
 constant and indefatigable in the work of the Lord. 
 And there are those also, who take up religion rather 
 for ostentation than for an occupation; who never 
 
234 
 
 mind the duties of religion, but when they have no- 
 thing else to do ; and even when their outward man 
 is engaged in the duties of it, their heart is not in 
 it : they hear, they pray, but their souls, their 
 thoughts and minds are abroad. It is not their 
 business to have fellowship with God in duties, to 
 get their lusts mortified, their hearts tried, their 
 souls conformed to the image of God in holiness. 
 They pray as if they prayed not, and hear as if they 
 heard not. And if they feel no power in ordinances, 
 no quickening in duties, it is no disappointment at 
 all to them ; for these were not their designs in 
 drawing nigh to God in these appointments. 
 
 Sect. III. — And if we seriously inquire into the 
 grounds and causes of this self-deceit among pro- 
 fessors, we shall find these four things conspiring to 
 delude and cheat them in the great concern of salva- 
 tion :— • 
 
 1. The natural deceitfulness of the heart, than 
 which nothing is more treacherous and false : " The 
 heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately 
 wicked ;" that is, the heart is the greatest supplanter, 
 the most crafty and subtle cheat of all ; it deceives 
 us, as Jacob did his brother, to whose name this text 
 seems to allude. It defeats us of our heavenly heri- 
 tage, as Jacob supplanted him in his earthly one, 
 while we are gone hunting after earthly trifles. And 
 wherein its deceitfulness principally appears, you may 
 see by the solemn caution of the apostle in James i. 
 22. wherein he warns us to beware, that in hearing 
 the word we deceive not ourselves by false reason- 
 ings, for so the original words import ;• they may be 
 strictly rendered " false reasoning themselves,'* by 
 
^35 
 
 making false syllogisms, whereby they misconclude 
 about their spiritual and eternal estate and condition, 
 and befool themselves. 
 
 The time will come when a man's own heart will 
 be found to have the chief hand in his ruin ; and what 
 ApoUodorus did but fancy his heart said to him, some 
 men's hearts will tell them in earnest, when they come 
 to the place of misery and torment : " I have been the 
 cause of all these." I have betrayed thee into all 
 these torments. It was my laziness, my credulity, 
 my averseness to the ways of strict godliness, morti- 
 fication, and self-denial, which have for ever undone 
 thee. When thou sattest under the convincing 
 truths of the gospel, it was I that whispered those 
 atheistical surmises into thine ear, persuading thee 
 that all thou heardest was but the intemperate heat 
 of a hot-brained zealot. When the judgments of 
 God were denounced, and the misery thou now feel- 
 est forewarned and threatened, it was I that whis- 
 pered what the tongue of another once spake out, I 
 will believe it when I come thither. 
 
 Surely this is a great truth which was observed 
 by the wisest of men, *' He that trusteth in his own 
 heart, is a fool." And thousands of such fools are 
 to be found among professors. 
 
 2. Satan is a chief conspirator in this treacherous 
 design : " We are not ignorant," says the apostle, " of 
 his devices," his sophistry and slights, his trains and 
 methods of temptation, which are thoroughly studied 
 and artificially moulded and ordered ; even such sys- 
 tems as tutors and professors of arts and sciences 
 have, and read over to their auditors, one judiciously 
 observes to be the import of that text in Ephesians 
 
Q3d 
 
 vi. 11. Nor is it to be wondered at, considering 
 his vast knowledge, deep malice, and long experience 
 in this art of cheating, together with the great cor- 
 juption and proneness of the hearts of men to close 
 with his devices and believe his impostures, that so 
 vast a number of souls are taken " captive by him at 
 his wiU." 
 
 It is " the god of this world that blinds the minds 
 of them that believe not ;" " the god of this world," 
 who leads a world of poor deluded wretches to de- 
 struction, having first blinded their minds, that is, 
 deluded, and with his hellish art practised upon, their 
 understanding, that leading and directive faculty 
 which is to the soul what eyes are to the body. 
 
 I remember Basil brings in Satan thus insulting 
 Christ : " I have them ! I have them ! For all 
 thy blood and miracles, thy wooings and beseechings, 
 thy knockings and strivings, I have cozened thee of 
 them at the very gates of heaven. For all their 
 illuminations and tasting of the powers of the world 
 to come, I have shipwrecked them in the very mouth 
 of the haven." 
 
 3. The common works found in unregenerate 
 souls deceive many, who cannot distinguish them 
 from the special works of the Spirit in God's elect. 
 See that startling scripture, Heb. vi. 4. where you 
 find among the common operations of the Spirit upon 
 apostates, that illumination which gives perspicuity 
 to their minds in discerning spiritual truths, and that 
 frequently with more distinctness and depth of judg- 
 ment than some gracious souls attain unto ; besides, 
 it is the matter out of which many rare and excel- 
 lent gifts are formed in admirable variety, gifts which 
 
I 
 
 237 
 
 are singularly useful to others, as they are exercised 
 in expounding the Scriptures, defending the truths 
 of Christ hy solid arguments, preaching, praying, &c. 
 and make the subject of them renowned and hon- 
 oured in the church of God, whilst in the meantime 
 he is dazzled with his own splendour, and fatally 
 ruined by them. 
 
 There you will find also tasting as well as enlight- 
 ening : so that they seem to abound not only in know- 
 ledge, but in sense also, in some kind of experience 
 of what they know ; for experience is the bringing of 
 things to the test of spiritual sense. They taste, or . 
 experience, the good that comes by the promises of \ 
 the word and discoveries of heaven and glory, though I 
 they feel not experimentally the transforming efficacy * 
 of these things upon their own souls. 
 
 Now, that illumination furnishing them with ex- 
 cellent gifts, — enabling them to assent to gospel- 
 truth, which the Scripture calls faith, Acts viii. 12. ; 
 and working in them conviction of sin, 1 Sam. xv. 
 24. ; reformation of life, 2 Peter ii. 20. ; and touch- 
 ing their affections also with transient joy in the dis- 
 covery of these truths ; and this taste, which comes 
 so near to the experience which the sanctified soul 
 enjoys — all these things seem to put their condition 
 beyond all controversy, and to lay a foundation for 
 their ill-built confidence. Nothing is more apt to be- 
 get and nourish such a confidence, than the meltings 
 and workings of our affections about spiritual things ; 
 for such a man seems to have all that is required of 
 a Christian, and to have attained the very end of all 
 knowledge, which is operation and influence upon 
 the affections. When they find heat in their affec- 
 
238 
 
 tions, as well as light in their minds, how apt are 
 they to say, as these self-deceivers in the text did, 
 they " are rich, and have need of nothing !" Now, 
 of all the false signs of grace by which men cozen, 
 themselves, none are so dangerous and destructive to 
 souls as those that come nearest true ones. Never 
 does Satan more effectually and securely manage his 
 cheats, than when he is transformed into an angel of 
 light. 
 
 Among this sort of self-deceivers, how many 
 gifted men, and among them some employed in the 
 office of the ministry, will be found, whose daily em- 
 ployment being about spiritual things, studying, 
 preaching, praying, conclude themselves sanctified 
 persons, because they are conversant about sacred 
 employments ; as if the subject must be holy because 
 the object is sacred ! O that such would seriously 
 ponder these two scriptures ! " Many will say unto 
 me in that day. Lord, Lord, have we not prophe- 
 sied in thy name ; and in thy name have cast out 
 devils; and in thy name done many wonderful things?" 
 *' Lest that, by any means, when I have preached 
 unto others, I myself should be a cast-away." 
 
 4. To add no more, this strengthens self-deceit 
 exceedingly in many — their comparing themselves 
 with others. Thus the Pharisees, those gross self- 
 deceivers, " trusted in themselves that they were 
 righteous, and despised others." Their low estima- 
 tion of others gave them that high value of them- 
 selves : and thus the proverb is made good, " He 
 who has but one eye is a king among the blind." 
 Thus the false apostles cheated and befooled them- 
 selves : " But they measuring themselves by them-. 
 
239 
 
 selves, and comparing themselves among themselves, 
 are not wise." God has not made one man a mea- 
 sure or standard to another man, but his word is the 
 common beam or scale to try all men. 
 
 These men are as sharp-sighted to note other 
 men's evils, as they are to mark their own excel- 
 lencies ; to eye the miscarriages of others with deri- 
 sion, and their own performances with admiration. 
 They bless themselves when they behold the profane 
 in their impieties : " God, I thank thee that I am 
 not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, 
 or even as this publican." O what a saint am I, in 
 comparison with these miscreants ! The Pharisee's 
 religion, you see, runs all upon nots ; a negative ho- 
 liness is enough for him : and the measure he takes 
 of it, is by comparison of himself with others more 
 externally vile than himself. A Christian may say, 
 with praise and humility, I am not as some men are; 
 but though he knows nothing by himself, yet is he 
 not thereby justified. He neither rakes together the 
 enormities of the vilest, nor the infirmities of the 
 holiest, to justify and applaud himself, as these self- 
 deceivers do. 
 
 And these are the causes and occasions of that 
 general deception, under which so great a part of the 
 professing world bow down and perish. 
 
 Sect. IV. — In the last place, I shall improve this 
 point variously, according to the importance and 
 usefulness of it, with as much brevity and closeness 
 of application as I can. And the first use shall be 
 a caution to professors. Before I tell you what use 
 you should make o^ it, I must tell you what use you 
 may not make of it. - 
 
MO 
 
 1. Do not make this use of it, to conclude, from 
 what has heen said, that all professors are but hypo- 
 crites, and that there is no truth nor integrity in any 
 man. This is both intolerable arrogance to ascend 
 the throne of God, and unparalleled uncharitableness 
 to judge the hearts of all men. 
 
 Some men are as apt to conclude others to be 
 hypocrites, by measuring their hearts by their own, 
 as others are to conclude themselves saints, by com- 
 paring their own excellencies with other men's cor- 
 ruptions; but, blessed be God! there is some grain 
 among the heap of chaff, some true diamonds among 
 the counterfeit stones. The devil has not the whole 
 piece ; a remnant, according to election, belongs really 
 to the Lord. 
 
 2. Do not make this use of it, to suppose that 
 assurance must be impossible, because so many pro- 
 fessors are found to be self-deceivers. That assur- 
 ance is one of the great difficulties in religion, is a 
 truth; but that it is therefore unattainable in this 
 world, is very false. Popish doctrine, indeed, makes 
 it impossible; but that doctrine is practically confuted, 
 in the comfortable experience of many souls. All 
 are commanded to strive for it : " Give all diligence 
 to make your calling and election sure." And some 
 have the happiness to obtain it : " For I know whom 
 I have believed ; and am persuaded, that he is able 
 to keep that which I have committed unto him against 
 that day." 
 
 Let the similar works upon hypocrites, resemble 
 as much as they will the saving works of the Spirit 
 upon believers, yet God does always, and saints do 
 sometimes plainly discern the difference. 
 
241 
 
 3. Do not make this use of it, to conceal or hide 
 the truths or graces of God, or to refuse to profess 
 or confess tliem before men, because many professors 
 deceive themselves, and others also, by a vain pro- 
 fession. Because another professes what he has not, 
 must you therefore hide or deny what you have ? It 
 is true, the possession of grace and truth in your own 
 souls, is that which saves you ; but the profession, or 
 confession of it, is that which honours God and edi- 
 fies ; yea, sometimes is the instrument to save others. 
 It is your comfort that you feel it ; it is the comfort 
 of others to know that you do so. Ostentation is 
 your sin ; but a serious and humble profession is your 
 duty, Rom. x. 9. 
 
 Sect. V. — Having shown you, in the former sec- 
 tion, what use you ought not to make of this doc- 
 trine, I will next show you what use you ought to 
 make of it. And surely you cannot improve this 
 point to a better purpose, than from it to take warn- 
 ing, and look to yourselves, that you be not of that 
 number who deceive themselves in their profession. 
 If this be so, suffer me closely to press that great 
 apostolical caution, " Let him that thinketh he 
 standeth, take heed lest he fall." O professors ! 
 look carefully to your foundation : " Be not high- 
 minded, but fear." You have, it may be, done and 
 suffered many things in and for religion : you have 
 excellent gifts and sweet comforts ; a warm zeal for 
 God, and high confidence of your integrity : all this 
 may be right, but yet it is possible it may be false also. 
 You have sometimes judged yourselves, and pro- 
 nounced yourselves upright, but remember your final 
 sentence is not yet pronounced by your Judge ; and 
 L 60 
 
242 
 
 what if God weigh you over again in his more equal 
 halance, and should say, " Mene, Tekel; thou art 
 weighed in the balance, and art found wanting?" 
 What a confounded man wilt thou be under such a 
 sentence ! " Things that are highly esteemed among 
 men, are an abomination in the sight of God." 
 " The Lord seeth not as man seeth." 
 
 Thy heart may be false, and thou not know it ; 
 yea, it may be false, and thou strongly confident of 
 its integrity. The saints may approve thee, and 
 God condemn thee : " Thou hast a name that thou 
 livest, but thou art dead." Men may say. There 
 is a true Nathaniel ; and God may say. There is a 
 self-deluded Pharisee. 
 
 Reader, thou hast heard of Judas and Demas, of 
 Ananias and Sapphira, of Hymeneus and Philetus, 
 once renowned and famous professors ; and thou hast 
 heard what they proved at lasf. Take heed that their 
 case be not thine own. Do they not all, as it were 
 with one mouth, cry to thee, O professor, if thou wilt 
 not come where we are, do not delude thyself as we did? 
 If thou expectest a better place and lot, be sure that 
 thou get a sincere heart. Had we been more self- 
 suspicious, we had been more safe. 
 
 I would not alarm you with needless jealousies, 
 but I would fain prevent fatal mistakes. Do not 
 you find your hearts deceitful in many things ? Do 
 not you shuffle over secret duties ? Do not you cen- 
 sure the same evils in others, that you scarcely re- 
 prove in yourselves ? Are there not many by-ends 
 in duties ? Do not you find you are far less affected 
 with a great deal of service and honour done to God 
 by others, than with a little by yourselves ? Is 
 
243 
 
 it not hard to look upon other men's excellencies 
 without envy, or upon your own without pride ? And 
 are you not troubled with a busy devil, as well as 
 with a bad heart ? Has not he that circuits the 
 whole world observed you ? Has he not studied 
 your constitutional sins, and found out that sin which 
 most easily besets you ? Has he less malice against 
 your souls than others ? Surely you are in the very 
 thicket of temptations; thousands of snares are round 
 about you. O with what difficulty are the righteous 
 saved ! How hard is it to be upright ! How few 
 even of the professing world win heaven at last ! O 
 therefore search your hearts, professors, and let this 
 caution go down to your very reins : " Let him that 
 thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall." 
 
 Away with rash uncharitable censures of others, 
 and be more just and severe in censuring yourselves. 
 Away with dry and unprofitable controversies, and 
 spend your thoughts upon this great question, Am I 
 sound, or am I rotten at heart ? Am I a new creature, 
 or the old creature still in a new creature's dress and 
 habit ? Beg the Lord that you be not deceived in 
 that great point, whatever you may be mistaken in. 
 Pray that you be not given up to a heedless, care- 
 less, and vain spirit, and then have religious duties 
 for a rattle, to still and quiet your consciences. 
 
 Surely that ground-work can never be laid too sure, 
 upon which so great a stress as thy soul and eternity 
 must depend. It will not repent thee, when thou 
 comest to die, that thou hast employed thy time and 
 strength to this end. Whilst others are panting 
 after the dust of the earth, and saying, " Who will 
 show us any good ?" be thou panting after the assur- 
 L 2 
 
244 
 
 ance of the love of God, and crying, Who will show 
 me how to make my calling and election sure? 
 
 O deceive not yourselves with names and notions. 
 Think not, because you are for a stricter way of wor- 
 ship, or because you associate with and are accord- 
 ingly denominated one of the more reformed pro- 
 fessors, that therefore you are safe enough. Alas, 
 how small an interest have titles, modes, and deno- 
 minations in religion ! Suppose a curious artist takes 
 a lump of lead, and refines it, and casts it into the 
 mould, whence it comes forth shining and bearing 
 some noble figure ; suppose that of an eagle, yet it 
 is but a leaden eagle. Suppose it is the figure of a 
 man, and that in the most exact lineaments and pro- 
 portions, yet still it is but a leaden man. Nay, let 
 it bear the figure of an angel, it is but a leaden angel ; 
 for the base and ignoble matter is the same as it was, 
 though the figure be not. Even so take an unre- 
 generate, carnal man ; let his life be reformed, and 
 his tongue refined, and call him a zealous Conformist 
 or a strict Non-conformist ; call him a Presbyterian, 
 an Independent; or what you will : he is all the while 
 but a carnal Conformist or Non-conformist, an un- 
 regenerate Presbyterian, a carnal Independent; for 
 his nature is still the same, though the stamp and 
 fio-ure his profession gives him be not the same. 
 
 O my friends, believe it, fine names and words are 
 of little value with God. God will no more spare 
 you for these, than Samuel did Agag for his delicate 
 ornaments and spruce appearance. Either make 
 sure of the root of the matter, or the leaves of a vain 
 profession will not long cover you. 
 
 To be deceived by another is bad enough ; but to 
 
245 
 
 deceive ourselves is a thousand times worse. To 
 deceive ourselves in truths of the superstructure, is 
 bad ; and they that do so shall suffer loss, 1 Cor. iii. 
 12. ; but to deceive ourselves in the foundation, is a 
 desperate deceit, and shipwrecks all our hopes and 
 happiness at once. 
 
 If any one lose his money by a cheat, it troubles 
 him ; but to lose his soul by a cheat will confound 
 him. If a man lose an eye, an ear, a hand, a foot, 
 yet, as Chrysostom says, God has given these mem- 
 bers double, so that there is another left : but the 
 soul is one, and only one ; and if that be damned, 
 you have not another to be saved. O therefore be 
 restless till it be, and till you know it be, out of 
 eternal danger. 
 
 Sect. VI. — If so many professors of religion be 
 cheated in their profession, let all that are well satis- 
 fied and assured of their integrity bless the Lord 
 whilst they live for that mercy. O it is a mercy that 
 no unsanctified soul can have ; yea, and it is a mercy 
 that many gracious souls cannot obtain, though they 
 seek it with tears, and would part with all the plea- 
 sant things they have in the world to enjoy it. 
 
 This is that mercy which gives souls the highest 
 pleasure this world is acquainted with, or the state of 
 this mortality can bear ; for let the well-assured soul 
 but consider what it is assured of — Christ, with the 
 purchases of his blood. O what is this ! " I am 
 my beloved's, and my beloved is mine," Cant. ii. 16. 
 What a vital, ravishing, overpowering efficacy is in 
 that voice of faith ! Let it but look back a few 
 years, and compare what it was with what it is now. 
 " It was far oflP, it is now made nigh." " It was not 
 
246 
 
 beloved, but is now beloved." " It had not obtained 
 mercy, but now hath obtained mercy." Or let the 
 assured soul look forward, and compare what it now 
 is and has, with what it shortly shall be made, and 
 put in possession of. " Beloved," says the apostle, 
 " now are we the sons of God ; but it doth not yet 
 appear what we shall be : but we know that when he 
 shall appear, we shall be like him, for we shall see 
 him as he is." Let the assured soul but steep its 
 thoughts, by meditation, in these subjects, and it 
 will be impossible to keep him from the most agree- 
 able transports of joy and delight. 
 
 O what a life have you in comparison with other 
 men ! Some have two hells ; one present, another 
 coming : you have two heavens ; one in hand, the 
 other in hope. Some of your own brethren in Christ, 
 who have been, it may be, many years panting after 
 assurance, are still denied it ; but God has indulged 
 so peculiar a favour to you. Bless ye the Lord, and 
 make his praise glorious. 
 
 CHAPTER IIL 
 
 Doctrine IL — True grace is exceedingly precious, 
 and greatly enriches the soul which has it. It is 
 Christ's gold. 
 
 Sect. L — The Lord Jesus here chooses the most 
 pure, precious, resplendent, durable, and valuable 
 thing, in all the treasures and magazines of nature, 
 to shadow forth saving grace, which is infinitely more 
 
247 
 
 excellent. Certainly that must be the best thing, 
 which the best things in nature can but imperfectly 
 shadow forth. What was the golden oil emptied 
 through the two golden pipes, Zech. iv. 12. but the 
 precious graces of God, flowing through Christ into 
 all his members ? Gold is precious, but one dram 
 of saving grace is more precious than all the gold of 
 Ophir. " It cannot be gotten for gold, neither shall 
 silver be weighed for a price thereof." Surely gold 
 and silver, sapphires, diamonds, and rubies, are not 
 worth the mentioning, when saving grace is once 
 mentioned. 
 
 1. For consider it in its cause and fountain 
 from whence it flows, and you will find it to be the 
 fruit of the Spirit; who, on that account, is called 
 " the Spirit of Grace." It derives its original from 
 the Most High ; it is spirit born of the Spirit. All 
 the rules of morality, all human diligence and indus- 
 try can never produce one gracious habit or act : 
 " Not that we are sufficient of ourselves to think any 
 thing as of ourselves." Nay, we speak not becoming 
 the incomparable worth of grace, when we say that 
 it is the fruit and birth of the Spirit ; for so are com- 
 mon gifts also. There are several emanations from 
 this sun, divers streams from this fountain ; but of 
 all his operations and productions, this of saving 
 grace is the most noble and excellent. Gifts are 
 from the Spirit as well as grace, but grace is more 
 excellent than the best gifts : " Covet earnestly the 
 best gifts, and yet show I unto you a more excellent 
 way." Hence you read in Phil. i. 10. " of things 
 that are excellent ;" or, as the original might be ren- 
 dered, " things that differ ;" namely, in respect of 
 
248 
 
 excellency, not as good and evil, but as less good and 
 more good difFer. Gifts have their value and pre- 
 ciousness, but the best gifts difFer as much from 
 grace as brass from gold. Gifts are dead graces, 
 but graces are living gifts. Grace is the most ex- 
 cellent production of the highest and most excellent 
 cause. 
 
 2, Consider it in its nature, and you will find it 
 divine. St. Peter speaks of being " partakers of the 
 divine nature," that is, in our sanctification ; not that 
 it gives us the properties of the divine nature ; they 
 are incommunicable ; but the similitude and resem- 
 blance of it is stamped upon our souls in the work of 
 grace. 
 
 "The new man is renewed in knowledge, after 
 the image of him that created him." The school- 
 men and some of the fathers place this image or 
 resemblance of God, in the natural faculties of the 
 soul — the understanding, memory, and will; which 
 is a shadow of a trinity in unity : but it rather con- 
 sists in the renovation of the faculties by grace ; for 
 in this we bear the divine image upon our souls, and 
 that image or resemblance of God in holiness is the 
 beauty and honour of our souls. 
 
 It is their beauty. " How fair and how pleasant 
 art thou, O love, for delights !" says Christ of his 
 people. Natural beauty consists in the symmetry and 
 comely proportion of parts, each with the other; 
 spiritual beauty, in the harmony or agreeableness of 
 our souls to God. And as it is our chief beauty, so 
 certainly it is our highest honour; for it gives us ac- 
 cess unto God, who is the fountain of honour and 
 glory; and this makes the righteous more excellent 
 
249 
 
 than his neighbour: let his neighbour be what he 
 will, though the blood of nobles run in his veins, the 
 righteous is more exalted than he, except saving 
 grace be also diffused in his soul. 
 
 3. Consider it in its recipient subject, and you will 
 find its value still to increase ; for the precious oil of 
 saving grace is never poured into any other than an 
 elect vessel. Hence faith, one branch of sanctifica- 
 tion, is, with respect to its subject, styled " the faith 
 of God's elect." Whosoever finds true grace in his 
 soul, may, during the evidence thereof, from it 
 strongly conclude his election, looking backward, and 
 his salvation, looking forward. It marks and seals 
 the person in whom it is, for glory. " God hath set 
 apart him that is godly for himself." 
 
 4. View the precious worth of grace in its excel- 
 lent effects and influences upon the soul in which it 
 dwells. 
 
 1 St, It adorns with incomparable ornaments, which 
 are of great price in the sight of God. Yea, it re- 
 flects such beams of glory on the soul where its seat 
 is, that Christ himself, the author, is also the ad- 
 mirer of it. " Thou hast ravished my heart, my 
 sister, my spouse ! Thou hast ravished my heart 
 with one of thine eyes, with one of the chains of thy 
 neck !" 
 
 2d, It elevates and enobles a man's spirit beyond 
 all other principles in man. It sets the heart and 
 affections upon heaven, and fixes them on the glory 
 of the invisible world : " But our conversation is in 
 heaven, from whence we look for the Saviour." 
 Whilst others are trading for corn and wine, for 
 sheep and oxen, for feathers and trifles, the gracious 
 L 3 
 
250 
 
 soul is trading with God for pardon and peace, for 
 righteousness and life, for glory and immortality. 
 " Truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with 
 his Son Jesus Christ." 
 
 3d, It not only raises the spirit by conversing with 
 God and things above, but transforms the soul by 
 that converse into the likeness of those heavenly ob- 
 jects it converses with. " It changes them into the 
 same image." So that though the sanctified man 
 still remains the wJio he was, yet not the "dohat he was 
 before. The very temper of his spirit is altered. 
 
 4th, It not only transforms the soul in which it is, 
 but preserves the subject in which it is. It is a 
 singular preservative from sin, so that though sin be 
 in him still, and works in him still, yet it cannot pre- 
 vail in him still to fulfil the lusts of it, as it was wont 
 to do. Sin conceives, but cannot bring forth fruit 
 unto death. 
 
 5th, It not only preserves it from sin, but grace 
 establishes the soul, in which it is, far beyond any 
 other arguments without, or any other principles 
 within a man. " It is a good thing that the heart be 
 established with grace." This is that which the 
 apostle calls our own steadfastness, or the ballast 
 which we have within ourselves, and which keeps us 
 right and stable. O the excellency of grace'! 
 
 6th, It is also the root of all that precious faith 
 which we bring forth to God in this world. It is 
 the root of every gracious word in our lips, and of 
 every gracious work in our hands. Be the matter of 
 our gracious thoughts ever so excellent, the matter of 
 our heavenly discourses and prayers ever so sweet, 
 still grace is the root of the matter. O then, what a 
 precious thing is grace ! 
 
251 
 
 5. View it in its properties, and you will soon dis- 
 cover its transcendent excellencies. The richest 
 epithets are no hyperboles here. We go not be- 
 yond the value of it, when we call it supernatural 
 grace, for so it is ; it comes down from above, from 
 the Father of lights : nature can never be improved 
 to that height, how much soever its admirers boast 
 of it. Nor do we strain too high when we call it 
 immortal grace ; for so has God made it. This is 
 that water which springs up in the sanctified soul unto 
 eternal life. It will not die when thou diest, but 
 ascend with the soul, from which it is inseparable, 
 and be received up with it into glory. You may out- 
 live friends, you may outlive gifts, but you cannot 
 outlive your graces. 
 
 Shall I say it is the most sweet and comfortable 
 thing that ever the soul was acquainted with in this 
 world, next to Jesus Christ, the author and founda- 
 tion of it ? Surely, if so I speak, I have as many 
 witnesses to attest it as there are gracious souls in the 
 world. Nothing is more comfortable than grace, 
 except Christ ; and yet without grace no soul can feel 
 the comforts of Christ in the troubles of life or in the 
 straits of death. This is a spring of comfort. 
 
 6. Consider it in its design and scope, and you 
 will still discern more and more of its precious excel- 
 lency : for what is the aim and end of God in the 
 infusions and improvements of grace, but to attemper 
 and mould our spirits by it into a meetness and fitness 
 for the enjoyment of himself in the world to come i' 
 " Giving thanks to the Father, who hath made us 
 meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints 
 in light." Compare this with 2 Cor. v. 5. " Now he 
 
252 
 
 that hath wrought us for the sehF-same thing is God." 
 O blessed design ! How precious must that work 
 be, which is wrought for so high and glorious a pur- 
 pose as this ? No work more excellent, no end more 
 noble. 
 
 7. Consider the means and instruments, both 
 principal and subordinate, employed in this work. 
 Many blessed instruments are set on work to beget, 
 preserve, and improve grace in our souls ; and these 
 all show the precious worth of it. No wise man will 
 dig for a base and worthless metal with golden mat- 
 tocks. The blood of Christ was shed to procure it, 
 Heb. xiii. 12. The Spirit of God is sent forth to 
 form and create it; for it is his own workmanship, 
 Eph. ii. 10.; his fruit, Gal. v. 22. The ordinances 
 and officers of the gospel were at first instituted, and 
 ever since continued in the church, for this work^s 
 sake, John xvii. 17. Eph. iv. 12. It is the fruit of 
 Christ's blood; yea, and it has cost the sweat and 
 blood of the dispensers of the gospel too. Nay, all 
 the works of Providence look this way, and aim at 
 this thing, Rom. viii. 28. What is the errand of 
 all God's rods, but to make us partakers of his holi- 
 ness? Heb. xii. 10. 
 
 8. The high value that the most high God sets 
 upon grace, shows it to be an excellent thing in- 
 deed. " It is of great price in his sight." No 
 service finds acceptance with God, but what is per- 
 formed by grace. None but sanctified vessels are 
 meet for the Master's use. " The end of the com- 
 mandment is charity out of a pure heart." The 
 weakest performances of grace find acceptance with 
 him, though clogged with many sinful weaknesses 
 
253 
 
 and infirmities. If God so prize it, well may we. He 
 who made the jewel, best understands the value of it. 
 
 9. The hypocritical pretences made to it all over 
 the professing world, show what a most precious and 
 desirable thing it is. If there were not some singu- 
 lar glory in it, why does every one desire to be re- 
 puted gracious ? Nay, the devil himself baits many 
 of his hooks of temptation with a show of grace ; for 
 he knows sin has no native beauty of its own to en- 
 tice, and therefore he borrows the paint and pretence 
 of holiness to cover it : but O to what a dilemma will 
 the hypocrite be brought at last ! And how can he 
 answer it when God shall demand. If grace were evil, 
 why didst thou affect the name and reputation of it ? 
 And if it were good, why didst thou satisfy thyself 
 with the empty name and shadow of it only ? 
 
 10. The incomparable esteem that all good men 
 have for it, shows it to be a thing of inestimable 
 price. Grace is the sum of all their prayers, the 
 scope of all their endeavours, the matter of their chief 
 joy, the reward of their afflictions and sufferings; 
 their chief joys and sorrows, hopes and fears in this 
 world, are taken up about it. By all which it ap- 
 pears, that its price is above rubies ; and all the gold 
 and silver in the world are but dung and dross in 
 comparison with it. 
 
 Sect. II. — Six practical inferences from this pre- 
 cious truth. 
 
 1 . Is saving grace more precious than gold ? Let 
 them who have it bless God for it, and not boast. 
 
 Men's hearts are apt to puff up and swell with 
 spiritual, as with material gold. It is hard to be an 
 owner of much of this gold, and not be lifted up with 
 
254 
 
 it. To keep down thy heart, and preserve thine 
 eyes from being dazzled with these thy gracious ex- 
 cellencies, it will be needful for thee. Christian, 
 sometimes to consider, that, although grace be one 
 of the most excellent things that ever God created, 
 yet it is but a creature, a dependent thing. Yea, it 
 is not only a creature, but a very imperfect creature 
 yet in thy soul, labouring under many weaknesses ; 
 and sometimes ready to die. Though it can do many 
 things for you, yet it cannot justify you before God. 
 You cannot make a garment of it to cover your guilt, 
 nor plead the dignity of it at God's bar for your dis- 
 charge. It is not your inherent, but Christ's im- 
 puted righteousness must do that for you. Nay, 
 remember that, how excellent soever it be, it is not 
 the native growth and product of your hearts ; all the 
 grace you have is foreign to your natures, and what 
 you have is received. And remember too, that he 
 who is most proud and conceited of his own graces, 
 will be found to be the owner of least grace, and has 
 most cause to question whether he has any or none. 
 It is the nature of grace to humble, abase, and empty 
 the soul; and it is the strength of our corruptions 
 which thus puffs us up with vain conceits. 
 
 2. Is saving grace more excellent than gold ? 
 What cause then have the poorest Christians to be 
 well satisfied with their lot ! 
 
 To others God has given Ishmael's portion, the 
 fatness of the earth; to you, Isaac's, the graces of 
 the covenant. Their portion is paid in brass, yours 
 in gold. Many of you are poor in the world, but 
 *' rich in faith, and heirs of the kingdom which God 
 hath promised." What is the dust of the earth to 
 
255 
 
 the fruits of the Spirit ? You are troubled that you 
 have no more of the world; it may be if you had 
 more gold, you would have less grace. You con- 
 sider not how many are poor and wretched in both 
 worlds, moneyless and Christless too. You do not 
 consider, that you are nearly come to that state in 
 which all your wants will be fully supplied, where 
 you shall not need the treasures of the earth, but 
 have your desires satisfied out of the treasures of 
 grace and glory. 
 
 3. Is saving grace gold ? yea, infinitely more pre- 
 cious than gold ! Then, surely, declining Chris- 
 tians are great losers, and have cause to be mourners. 
 The remission of the least degree of grace, is more 
 to be lamented than the loss of the greatest sum of 
 gold. 
 
 Though the habits of grace be not lost, yet the 
 acts of grace may be suspended, 2 Sam. xii. 31. ; the 
 degrees of grace may be remitted. Rev. iii. 3. ; the 
 evidences of grace may be clouded, and consequently 
 the comforts of grace may be suspended, Isa. 1. 10.; 
 and the least of these is such a loss, as all the trea- 
 sures of the earth cannot repair. Well therefore 
 may declining Christians challenge the first place 
 among all the mourners in this world. 
 
 4. Is grace so invaluably precious? How pre- 
 cious then ought the ordinances of God to be to us, 
 by which grace is first communicated and afterwards 
 improved in our souls ! " The law of thy mouth is 
 better unto me than thousands of gold and silver;" 
 and well may it be so, whilst it imparts and improves 
 that to which gold and silver are but dross and dung. 
 None but those who value not grace, will ever slight 
 
256 
 
 the means, or despise and injure the instruments 
 thereof. It is a sad sign of a graceless world, when 
 these precious things fall under contempts and slights. 
 
 5. If grace be so precious, how watchful should 
 all gracious persons be in the days of temptation ! 
 
 The design of temptation is to rob you of your 
 treasure. When cut-purses get into the crowd, we 
 are accustomed to say. Friends, look to your purses. 
 How many brave Christians have we read and heard 
 of, who have chosen to part with their lives rather 
 than with their graces, who have " resisted unto 
 blood, striving against sin !" O Christians, you live 
 in a cheating age. Many seeming Christians have 
 lost all, and many real Christians have lost much ; 
 so much, that they are likely to see but little com- 
 fort in this world, likely to go mourning to the grave 
 with this lamentation, " O that it were with me as 
 in times past !" 
 
 6. Is there such precious worth in saving grace ? 
 Then bless God for it, and diligently use all means 
 to increase and improve it in your souls. 
 
 It is gold for preciousness and for usefulness, and 
 must not be laid up in a napkin. That is a sin con- 
 demned by the very scope of that parable in Matt. 
 XXV. 14. All Christians indeed have not the same 
 advantages of improvement ; but all must improve it 
 according to the advantages they have, in order to 
 an account. Reserved Christians, who live too ab- 
 stracted from the society and communion of others, 
 and disperse not their streams abroad to the benefit 
 of others, nor improve the graces of others for their 
 own benefit, are wanting both to their own duty and 
 comfort. See you a man rich in grace ? O trade 
 
257 
 
 with him if you can, to improve yourselves by him ; 
 and the rather, because you know not how soon death 
 may snatch him from you ; and with him all his stock 
 of grace is gone from you too, except what you made 
 your own whilst you conversed with him. But, 
 alas ! instead of holy, profitable, soul-improving com- 
 munion, some are sullenly reserved, some are negli- 
 gent and lazy, some are litigious and wranghng, 
 more apt to draw forth the dross than the gold, the 
 corruptions rather than the graces of others. And 
 it is sad to consider how few there are who carry on 
 a profitable trade for increase of grace. 
 
 And as grace is not improved by communion with 
 men, so I fear that most Christians thrive but little 
 in their communion with God. We are too seldom 
 in our closets, too little upon our knees : and when 
 we are there, we gain but little, we come not off such 
 gainers by duty as we might. O Christians, think, 
 when you are hearing and praying, I am now trading 
 with heaven for that which is infinitely better than 
 gold. God is rich to all that call upon him. What 
 a treasure may I get this hour, if the fault be not in 
 mine own heart ! 
 
258 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Doctrine III. — That only is to be accoutited true 
 grace, which is able to eiidure all the trials ap- 
 pointed or permitted for the discovery of it. 
 
 Sect. I. — -The most wise God has seen fit to set 
 all his people in a state of trial in this world. First, 
 he tries, and then he crowns them : " Blessed is the 
 man that endureth temptation;" that is, probation 
 or trial ; " for when he is tried, he shall receive a 
 crown of life." 
 
 No man can say what he is, whether his graces 
 are true or false, till they have been tried and ex- 
 amined by those things which are to them as fire is 
 to gold. The self-deceivers in the text thought they 
 had grace ; yea, they thought they had been rich in 
 grace : but it proved no better than dross ; and, there- 
 fore, Christ here counsels them to buy of him gold 
 tried in the fire ; that is, true grace indeed, grace 
 which will appear to be grace after the various proofs 
 and examinations of its sincerity that are to be made 
 in this world, as well as in the great solemn trial it 
 must come to in the world to come. 
 
 The Scripture speaks of a twofold trial: 1. A 
 trial of men's opinions; and, 2. A trial of their graces. 
 
 1. The opinions and judgments of men are tried 
 as by fire ; in which sense we are to understand that 
 passage : " Now if any man build upon this founda- 
 tion, gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, stub- 
 ble ; every man's work shall be made manifest : for 
 
259 
 
 the day shall declare it, because it shall be revealed 
 by fire ; and the fire shall try every man's work of 
 what sort it is." This text speaks of such persons 
 as held the foundation of Christianity, but yet super- 
 structed such doctrines and practices as were no more 
 able to endure the trial, than hay, wood, or stubble 
 can endure the fire. Such a person hereby brings 
 himself into danger ; and though the apostle will not 
 deny the possibility, yet he asserts the difficulty of 
 his salvation : " He shall be saved, yet so as by fire;" 
 as a man is saved by leaping out of his house at mid- 
 night, when it is all on fire about his ears; for so 
 that phrase imports, Amos iv. 11. and Jude 23.; 
 glad to escape naked, and with the loss of his goods ; 
 blessing God he has his life for a prey. And just as 
 little regard as this shall men have to their erroneous 
 notions and unscriptural opinions at last. 
 
 2. The graces of men are brought to the test, as 
 well as their opinions. Trial will be made of their 
 hearts, as well as of their heads ; and upon this trial 
 the everlasting safety and happiness of the person 
 depends. If some of a man's opinions be found hay 
 or stubble, yet so long as he holds the Head and is 
 right in the foundation, he may be saved ; but if a 
 man's supposed graces be found hay or stubble, all 
 the world cannot save him. There is no way of 
 escape, if he finally deceive himself herein. And of 
 this trial of graces my text speaks. Sincere grace 
 is gold tried by fire. 
 
 There is a twofold trial of grace — active and passive. 
 
 1. There is an active trial of it ; in which we try it 
 ourselves. " Examine yourselves ; prove yourselves." 
 Measure your hearts, duties, and graces, by the rule 
 
260 
 
 of the word : see how they answer to that rule ; bring 
 your hearts and the word together by solemn self- 
 examination. Confer with your reins, and commune 
 with your own hearts. 
 
 2. There is a passive trial of it. Whether we 
 try it or not, God will try it. He will bring our 
 gold to the touchstone and to the fire : " Thou, O 
 Lord, knowest me; thou hast seen me, and tried 
 mine heart towards thee," says the prophet. 
 
 Sometimes he tries the strength and ability of his 
 servants' graces : and thus he tried Abraham, Heb. 
 xi. 17. And sometimes he tries the soundness and 
 sincerity of their graces : so the Ephesian angel was 
 tried, and found dross. Rev. ii. 2. ; and so Job was 
 tried, and found true gold. Job xxiii. 10. These 
 trials are not made by God for his own information, 
 for he knows what is in man ; his eyes pierce the 
 heart and reins : but for our information ; — which is 
 the true sense of Deut. viii. 2. " Thou shalt remem- 
 ber all the way which the Lord thy God led thee 
 these forty years in the wilderness, to humble thee, 
 and to prove thee, to know what was in thy heart ;" 
 that is, to make thee know it, by giving thee such 
 experiments and trials of it in those straits and diffi- 
 culties in the wilderness. 
 
 And these are the trials of grace I am here to 
 speak of, not excluding the active trials made by our- 
 selves. No ; all these trials made by God upon us, 
 are designed to put us upon the trial of ourselves. 
 When God tries, we should try too. 
 
 Now, the method into which I shall cast this dis- 
 course, shall be to show you, 1. What those things 
 are which try the sincerity of our graces, as fire tries 
 
261 
 
 gold. 2. For what ends God puts the graces of his 
 people upon such trials in this world. 3. That such 
 grace only is sincere as can endure these trials. 4. 
 I shall apply the whole. 
 
 Sect. II. — I shall show, in the first place, what 
 those things are which try the sincerity of grace, as 
 fire tries sold. 
 
 Before I enter into particulars, it will be needful 
 to acquaint you, that the subject before me is full of 
 difficulties. There is need of much cautious respect 
 to the various degrees of growth among Christians, 
 and the vicissitudes of their inward cases; else we 
 may darken and perplex the way instead of clearing it. 
 
 The portraiture of a Christian is such as none can 
 draw to one model, but it must be drawn with a due 
 respect to the infancy of some, as well as to the age 
 and strength of others. 
 
 Great heed ought, also, to be taken in the appH- 
 cation of marks and signs. We should first try 
 them, before we try ourselves or others by them. 
 Marks and signs are, by some, distinguished into ex- 
 clusive, inclusive, and positive. Exclusive marks 
 serve to shut out bold pretenders, by showing them 
 how far they come short of a saving work of grace : 
 and they are commonly taken from some necessary 
 common duty, as hearing, praying, &c. He who has 
 not these things, cannot have any work of grace in 
 him ; and yet if he has them, he cannot from thence 
 conclude his state to be gracious. He who so con- 
 cludes, deceives himself. 
 
 Inclusive marks discover the degrees, rather than 
 the truth of grace ; and are intended for comfort ra- 
 ther than conviction. If we find them in ourselves. 
 
262 
 
 we find not only sincerity, but eminency of grace ; 
 they being taken from some raised degree, and emi- 
 nent acts of grace, in confirmed and grown Chris- 
 tians. 
 
 Betwixt these two, there is a middle sort of marks, 
 which are called positive marks ; and they are such as 
 are always in regenerate souls, and in them only. 
 The hypocrite has them not ; the grown Christian 
 has them, and that in an eminent degree ; the poorest 
 Christian has them in a lower, but yet in a saving 
 degree. Great care must be taken in the application 
 of these marks. And it is past doubt, that many 
 weak and injudicious Christians have been greatly 
 prejudiced by finding the experiences of eminent 
 Christians, proposed as rules to measure their since- 
 rity by. Alas ! these no more fit their souls, than 
 SauPs armour did David's body. 
 
 These things being premised, and a due care car- 
 ried along with us through this discourse, I shall 
 next come to the particulars, and show you what 
 those things are which discover the state and tempers 
 of our souls. And though it is true, that there is 
 no condition we are in, nor providence that befalls us, 
 but takes some proof, and makes some discovery of 
 our hearts ; yet, to limit this discourse, and to come 
 to particulars as soon as we can, I shall show what 
 trials are made of our graces in this world, by our 
 prosperity and our adversity, by our corruptions and 
 our duties, and lastly, by our suffering upon the score 
 and account of rehgion. 
 
 Sect. III. — Prosperity, success, and the increase 
 of outward enjoyments, are to grace, what fire is to 
 gold. Riches and honours make trial what we are ; 
 
263 
 
 and by these things many a false heart has been de- 
 tected, as well as the sincerity and emincncy of the 
 graces of others discovered. We may fancy the fire 
 of prosperity to be rather for comfort than trial ; to 
 refresh us, rather than to prove us : but you will find 
 prosperity to be a great discoverer, and that scarcely 
 any thing proves the truth and strength of men's 
 graces and corruptions more than that does. " To 
 find humility with honour," says Bernard, " is to 
 find a phcenix." Let an obscure person be Hfted up 
 to honour, and, how steady and well composed soever 
 he was before, it is a thousand to one but his eyes 
 will be dazzled, and his head run round, when he is 
 upon the lofty pinnacle of praise and honour : "As 
 the fining pot for silver, and the furnace for gold, so 
 is a man to his praise." Put the best gold into the 
 fining pot of praise, and it is a wonder if a great deal 
 of dross does not appear. The vain-glory of good 
 Hezekiah rose Hke froth or scum upon the pot, when 
 heated by prosperity, Isa. xxxix. 2. It was such a 
 fining pot to Herod, as discovered him to be dross 
 itself, Acts xii. 23. How did that poor man swell 
 under this trial into the conceit of his being a god, 
 and was justly destroyed by worms, because he forgat 
 himself to be a worm ! We little think what a 
 strange alteration an exalted state will make upon our 
 spirits. When the prophet would abate the vain 
 confidence of Hazael. who would not believe that ever 
 he could be turned into such a savage beast as the 
 prophet had foretold, he only tells him, " The Lord 
 hath showed me, that thou shalt be king over Syria." 
 The meaning is. Do not be too confident, Hazael, 
 that thy temper and disposition can never alter to 
 
264 
 
 that degree : thou never yet sattest on a throne. 
 When men see the crown upon thy head, then they 
 will better see the true temper of thy heart. 
 
 How humble was Israel in the wilderness ! The 
 people were tame and tractable in a lean pasture; 
 but bring them once into Canaan, and the world is 
 strangely altered : then " Wc are lords," say they ; 
 " we will come no more unto thee." Prosperity is 
 a crisis, both to grace and corruption. Hence is that 
 caution to Israel, " When thou hast eaten, and art 
 full, then beware lest thou forget the Lord thy God :" 
 then, beware ; that is the critical time. Surely that 
 man must be acknowledged rich, very rich in grace, 
 whose grace suffers no diminution or eclipse by his 
 riches ; and that man deserves double honour, whose 
 pride the honours of this world cannot provoke and 
 inflame. 
 
 It is related of a pious divine in Germany, that, 
 being on his death-bed, and being somewhat discon- 
 solate on reflecting upon the barrenness of his life, 
 some friends took thence an occasion to commend 
 him, find reminded him of his painful ministry and 
 fruitful life among them ; but he cried out, " With- 
 draw the fire, for I have yet chaff in me :" meaning, 
 that he felt his ambition, like chaff, catching fire 
 from the sparks of their praises. Like this was the 
 saying of another, " He that praises me, wounds me." 
 
 But, to descend to the particular discoveries that 
 prosperity and honour make of the want of grace in 
 some, and of the weakness of grace in others, I will 
 show you what symptoms of hypocrisy appear in some 
 men under the trial of prosperity, and what signs of 
 grace appear in others under the same trial. 
 
^65 
 
 Sect. IV. — Prosperity discovers many sad symp- 
 toms of an ungodly heart ; and, among others, these 
 are ordinarily most conspicuous: — 
 
 1. It casts the hearts of some men into a deep ob- 
 livion of God, and makes them lay aside all care of 
 duty. The altars of rich men seldom smoke, Deut. 
 xxxii. 13 — 15. Jeshurun sucked honey out of the 
 rock, eat the fat of lambs, and kidneys of wheat; 
 but what was the effect of this ? He kicked, and 
 forsook God who made him, and lightly esteemed 
 the rock of his salvation. Instead of lifting up his 
 heart in an humble thankful acknowledgment of God's 
 bounty, he lifted up the heel in a wanton abuse of 
 his mercy. In the fattest earth we find the most 
 slippery footing. 
 
 He who is truly gracious, may in prosperity remit 
 some degrees ; but a carnal heart loseth there all 
 that in a low condition it seemed to save. Agur's 
 deprecation, as to himself, was, no doubt, built upon 
 his frequent observation how it was with others : 
 " Lest I be full, and deny God." 
 
 It is said, that " the abundance of the rich will 
 not suffer him to sleep." And I wish that were the 
 worst injury it did him ; but, alas ! it will not suffer 
 him to pray, to meditate, to give time and thought 
 to his eternal concerns. He falls asleep in the lap 
 of prosperity, and forgets that there is a God to be 
 served, or a soul to be saved. O this is a dangerous 
 symptom of a very graceless heart ! 
 
 2. Prosperity meeting with a graceless heart, 
 
 makes it wholly sensual, and entirely swallows up its 
 
 thoughts and affections. Earthly things transform 
 
 and mould such a heart into their own similitude and 
 
 M 60 
 
^66 
 
 nature ; the whole strength of the soul goes out to 
 these enjoyments. Thus, these graceless yet pros- 
 perous persons are described in Job xxi. 11 — 13. 
 " They take the timbrel and harp, and rejoice at the 
 sound of the organ : they spend their days in wealth,'* 
 They take the timbrel, not the Bible. " They re- 
 joice at the sound of the organ :" not a word is said 
 of their rejoicing in God. " They sent forth their 
 little ones in the dance :" that is all the catechism 
 they are taught. " They spend their days in 
 wealth :" their whole time, that precious stock and 
 talent, is wholly laid out on these sensitive things. 
 Either the pleasure of it powerfully charms them, or 
 the cares of it wholly engross their mind; so that 
 there is no time to spare for God. " They live in 
 pleasure upon earth," as it is in James v. 5. just as 
 the fish lives in the water, its proper element. Take 
 such a man off from these things, and put him on 
 spiritual, serious, heavenly employments, and he is a 
 fish on the dry land. 
 
 Now, though prosperity may too much influence 
 and ensnare the minds of good men, and estrange 
 them too much from heavenly things, yet for worldly 
 things thus to engross their hearts, and convert them 
 into their own similitude and nature, so that these 
 things should be the centre of their hearts, the very 
 proper element in which they live, this is utterly im- 
 possible. A hypocrite indeed may be brought to 
 this, because, though Janus like, he has two faces, 
 yet he really has but one principle, and that is wholly 
 carnal and earthly ; so that it is easy to make all the 
 water run into one channel, to gather all into one 
 entire stream, in which his heart shall pour out all 
 
267 
 
 his strength to the creature. But a Christian indeed 
 has a double principle influencing him. Though he 
 has a law of sin that moves him one way, yet there 
 is in him also the law of grace which thwarts and 
 crosses that principle of corruption ; so that as grace 
 cannot do what it would, because of sin, so neither 
 can sin do what it would, because of grace, Gal. v. 
 17. The heart of a Christian, in the midst of en- 
 snaring sensual enjoyments, finds indeed a corrupt 
 principle in it, which would incline him to fall asleep 
 on such a soft pillow, and forget God and duty ; but 
 it cannot. O no ! it cannot do so. There is a prin- 
 ciple of grace within him, that never leaves disturbing 
 and calling upon him, till he rise and return to his 
 God, the true rest of his soul. 
 
 3. A false pretender to religion, a hypocritical 
 professor, meeting with prosperity and success, grows 
 altogether unconcerned about the interest of religion, 
 and senseless of the calamities of God's people. 
 Thus the prophet convinces the Jews of their hypo- 
 crisy, in Amos vi. 1 — 6. " They were at ease in 
 Zion, and trusted in the mountain of Samaria ;" and 
 so, having a shadow of religion and a fulness of all 
 earthly things, they fell to feasting and sporting: 
 *' they drank wine in bowls, and anointed themselves 
 Tvith the chief ointments, but were not grieved for the 
 affliction of Joseph." They condoled not over the 
 breakings or tearing to pieces of Joseph. If they 
 were once out of danger, let the church shift for it- 
 self; they are secure in a warm nest : let the birds 
 of prey catch and devour that flock with which they 
 sometimes associated, they are not touched with it. 
 Moses could not do so, though in the greatest security 
 
 M 2 
 
268 
 
 and confluence of the honours and pleasures of Egypt, 
 Acts vii. 23. Nehemiah could not do so, though 
 the servant and favourite of a mighty monarch, and 
 wanting nothing to make him outwardly happy ; the 
 pleasures of a king's court could not cheer his heart, 
 or scatter the clouds of sorrow from his countenance, 
 whilst his brethren were in affliction, and the city of 
 liis God lay waste, Nehem. ii. 1 — 3. Nor indeed 
 can any gracious heart be unconcerned and senseless ; 
 for that union which all the saints have with Christ 
 their Head, and with one another as fellow-members 
 in Christ, will beget sympathy among them in their 
 sufferings, 1 Cor. xii. 26. 
 
 Sect. V. — But as the fire of prosperity discovers 
 this and much more dross in a graceless heart, so it 
 discovers the sincerity and grace of God's people. I 
 say not that it discovers nothing but grace in them. 
 O that it were so ! Alas ! many of them have had 
 a great deal of dross and corruption discovered by it. 
 But yet, in this trial, the graciousness and upright- 
 ness of their heart will appear in these and such like 
 workings of it. 
 
 1. Under prosperity, success, and honour, the up- 
 right heart will labour to suppress pride, and keep 
 itself lowly and humble; and still the more grace 
 there is, the more humility there will be. If God 
 lift him up, he will lay himself low, and exalt his God 
 high. So did Jacob when God had raised and en- 
 larged him : " I am not worthy of the least of all the 
 mercies, and of all the truth which thou hast showed 
 unto thy servant; for with my staff I passed over 
 this Jordan, and now I am become two bands," Gen. 
 xxxii. 10. Great was the difference in Jacob's out- 
 
269 
 
 ward condition at his return, from what it was at his 
 first passage over Jordan ; then poor, now rich ; then 
 single and comfortless, now the head of a great 
 family : yea, hut though his outward estate was al- 
 tered, the frame of his heart was not altered. Jacob 
 was a holy and humble man when he went out, and 
 so he was when he returned. He saw a multitude 
 of mercies about him ; and, among them all, not one 
 but was greater than himself. 
 
 I dare not say every Christian under prosperity 
 can at all times manifest like humility ; but I am sure 
 that what pride and vanity soever may rise in a gra- 
 cious heart tried by prosperity, there is that within 
 him which will check it. He dares not suffer such 
 proud thoughts to lodge quietly in his heart : for, 
 alas ! he sees that in himself, and that in his God, 
 which will abase him. Grace will make him look 
 back to his original condition, and say, with David, 
 " What am I, O Lord God, and what is my father's 
 house, that thou hast brought me hitherto ?" It will 
 make him look within, and see the baseness of his 
 own heart and the corruptions that are there, and 
 wonder at the dealings of God with so vile a crea- 
 ture. Oj thinks he, if others did but know of me 
 what I know of myself, they would abhor me more 
 than they now esteem and value me. 
 
 2. Prosperity usually draws forth the saints' love 
 to the God of their mercies. That which heats a 
 wicked man's lusts, warms a gracious man's heart 
 with love and delight in God. 
 
 These were the words of that lovely song which 
 David sang in the day that the Lord delivered him 
 out of the hands of all his enemies, and from the 
 
270 
 
 hand of Saul : he said, " I will love thee, O Lord, 
 my strength," Psalm xviii. These outward things 
 are not the main grounds and motives of the love of 
 the saints to God ; no, they love him when he takes 
 away, as well as when he gives ; but they are sancti- 
 fied instruments to inflame their love to God. O 
 in what an ardour of love did David go into the pre- 
 sence of God under the sense of his mercies, his 
 melting mercies, when he thus poured out his whole 
 soul in a stream of love to his God, 2 Sam. vii. 19, 20. 
 '* Is this the manner of men, O Lord God ? And 
 what can David say more unto thee?" — an expres- 
 sion that turns up the very bottom of his heart. 
 
 3. Prosperity and comfortable providences usually 
 become cautions against sin, when they meet with a 
 sanctified soul. This is the natural inference of a 
 gracious soul from them — Has God pleased me ? 
 then has he obliged me to take more care to please 
 him. O let me not grieve him, who has comforted 
 me ! So Ezra ix. 13. " After such a deliverance 
 as this, should we again break thy commandments ?" 
 What ! break his commandments who has broken 
 our bonds ? God forbid ! It was an excellent resolu- 
 tion of a Christian, who, receiving an eminent mercy, 
 at the same time that he felt himself under the 
 power of a special corruption, said, " Well, now will 
 I go forth in the strength of this mercy, to mortify 
 and subdue that corruption." I will not measure 
 every Christian by the eminent workings of grace in 
 some one ; but surely so far I may safely go, that 
 sincerity knows not how to sin, because grace has 
 abounded ; any more than it dares sin, that grace may 
 abound. 
 
271 
 
 4. A truly gracious soul will not be satisfied with 
 all the prosperity and comforts in the world for his 
 portion. " Not thine, Lord, but thee," is the voice 
 of grace. When Providence had been more than 
 ordinarily bountiful in outward things to Luther, 
 he began to be afraid of its meaning, and earnestly 
 protested that God should not put him off so. 
 " The Lord is my portion, saith my soul," Lam. iii. 
 24. ; and the soul can best tell what it has made its 
 choice, and whereon it has bestowed its chief de- 
 lights and expectations. An unsound heart will ac- 
 cept worldly things for its portion. If the world be 
 sure to him, and his designs fail not there, he can 
 be content to leave God, and soul, and heaven, and 
 hell, at hazard ; but so cannot the upright. These 
 things in subordination ; but neither these, nor any 
 thing under the sun, in comparison with, or opposition 
 to God. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The trial which adversity makes of the sincerity or 
 unsoundness of our hearts. 
 
 Sect. L — That adversity is a furnace to try of 
 what metal our hearts are, none can doubt, who has 
 either studied the Scriptures, or observed his own 
 heart under afflictions. 
 
 When the dross and rust of hypocrisy and cor- 
 ruption had almost eaten out the heart of reUgion 
 among the Jews, then saith God, " I will melt them. 
 
and try them ; for what shall I do for the daughter 
 of my people ?" Here affliction is the furnace, and 
 the people are the metal cast into it, and the end of 
 it is trial. I will melt them, and try them ; what 
 other course shall I take with them ? If I let them 
 alone, their lusts, like the rust and canker in metals, 
 will eat them out. Prosperity multiplies professors, 
 and adversity brings them to the test. Then hire- 
 lings quickly become changelings. The gilded 
 potsherd glitters till it come to the scouring. The 
 devil thouo;ht Job had been such a one, and moved 
 that he might be tried in this way, being confident 
 that he would be found but dross in the trial. Job i. 
 11.; but though the furnace of affliction discovered 
 some dross in him, as it will in the best of men, yet 
 he came forth as gold. 
 
 In this furnace also grace is manifested. It is 
 said in Rev. xiii. 10. " Herein is the faith and pa- 
 tience of the saints ;" herein is the trial and discovery 
 of it in these days of adversity. It was a weighty 
 saying of Tertullian to the persecutors of the church 
 in his days : " Your wickedness is the trial of our 
 innocency." — Constantius, the father of Constantino, 
 made a decree, that all who would not renounce the 
 Christian faith should lose their places of honour and 
 profit. This presently separated the dross from the 
 gold, which was his design; for many renounced 
 Christianity, and thereupon were renounced by him, 
 while those who held their integrity were received 
 into favour. 
 
 In time of prosperity, hypocrisy lies covered in the 
 heart, like nests in the green bushes ; but when the 
 winter of adversity has made them bare, every body 
 may see them without searching. 
 
273 
 
 But to come to close particulars — It will be ne- 
 cessary to inquire what effects of adversity are com- 
 mon to both the sound and the unsound, and, then, 
 what are peculiar to either in this close trial by ad- 
 versity. 
 
 Sect. II. — It will be expedient to the design I 
 have in this discourse, to show, in the first place, what 
 are the effects of adversity common to both the godly 
 and ungodly; for in some things they differ not, 
 but, as it is with the one, so also with the other. 
 
 1. Both the godly and ungodly may fear adversity 
 before it comes. A wicked man cannot, and it is 
 evident many godly men do not, come up to the 
 height of that rule in James i. 2, " To account it 
 all joy when they fall into divers temptations,'' or 
 trials by adversity. It is said in Isa. xxxiii. 14. 
 " The sinners in Zion are afraid; trembling sur- 
 priseth the hypocrite," under the apprehension of 
 approaching calamities ; and it is true also, that the 
 saints in Zion may be afraid : " My flesh trembleth 
 for fear of thee ; and I am afraid of thy judgments," 
 said holy David. " The thing which I greatly 
 feared," said the upright Job, " is come upon me." 
 There is a vast difference betwixt a saint's first meet- 
 ing with afflictions, and his parting with them. He 
 receives them sometimes with trembling; he parts 
 with them rejoicing, smiling on them, and blessing 
 them in the name of the Lord. So that by this the 
 upright and the false heart are not discriminated. 
 Even sanctified nature declines suffering and trouble. 
 
 2. Both the godly and ungodly may entertain 
 afflictions with regret and unwillingness when thev 
 come. Afiiictions and troubles are wormwood and 
 
 M 3 
 
274 
 
 gall, Lam. iii. 19. ; and that goes not down pleasantly 
 with flesh and blood. " No affliction for the present 
 seemeth joyous but grievous," even to God's own 
 people : " they are in heaviness through manifold 
 temptations," or trials by the rod. When God gives 
 the cup of affliction into the hands of the wicked, 
 how do they loathe it ! And though the portion of 
 the saints' cup be much sweeter than theirs, for that 
 bitter ingredient of God's vindictive wrath is not in 
 it, yet even they shrink from it, and they are loath to 
 taste it. 
 
 3. Both the one and the other may be impatient 
 and fretful in adversity : it is the very nature of flesh 
 and blood to be so. " The wicked are like the 
 troubled sea, which cannot rest, whose waters cast 
 forth mire and dirt." This is an allusion to the un- 
 stable and stormy ocean. You know that there is 
 naturally an estuation and working in the sea, whe- 
 ther it be incensed by the wind or not ; but if a vio- 
 lent wind blow upon the unquiet ocean, O what a 
 raging and foaming is there ! what abundance of 
 trash and filth doth it at such times cast out ! Now, 
 though grace make a great difference betwixt one 
 and another, yet I dare not say but that even a gra- 
 cious heart may be very unquiet and tumultuous in 
 the day of affliction. Sanctified souls have their 
 passions and lusts, which are too little mortified ; even 
 as sweetbrier and iiolly-thistles have their prickles, as 
 well as the worthless bramble. Jonah was a good 
 man, yet his soul was sadly distempered by adverse 
 providences : " Yea," says he, and that to his God, 
 " I do well to be angry, even unto death." 
 
 4. Both the one and the other may be weary of 
 
«75 
 
 the rod, and think the day of adversity a tedious day, 
 wishing it were once at an end. Babylon shall be 
 weary of the evil that God will bring upon it, Jer. li. 
 And O that none of Zion's children were weary of 
 adversity too ! How sad a moan does Job make of 
 his long-continued affliction ! " Though I speak, 
 my grief is not assuaged; and though I forbear, 
 what am I eased? But now he hath made me 
 weary." And if you look into Psalm vi. 3, 6. you 
 may see another strong Christian even wearied in 
 the way of affliction : " My soul,*' says David in 
 that place, " is sore vexed : but thou, O Lord, how 
 long ? I am weary with my groaning." 
 
 5. Both the one and the other may be driven to 
 their knees by adversity ; " Lord, in trouble have 
 they visited thee; they have poured out a prayer 
 when thy chastening was upon them." Not that a 
 godly person will pray no longer than the rod is at 
 his back : O no ; he cannot live long without prayer, 
 how few calls soever he may have to that duty by 
 the rod ; but when the rod is on his back, he will be 
 more frequently and more fervently upon his knees : 
 indeed, many gracious hearts are like children's tops, 
 which will go no longer than they are whipt ; they 
 cannot find their knees and their tongues, till God 
 find a rod to excite them. But this is a dangerous 
 symptom. The same affliction may bring gracious 
 and graceless souls to their knees : but though in 
 the external matter of duty, and in the external call 
 and occasion of duty, they seem to agree, yet is there 
 a vast difference in the principles, manner, and ends 
 of these their duties, as will evidently appear in its 
 proper place in our following discourse. 
 
276 
 
 But by what has been said in this section, you 
 may see how in some things the holy upright soul 
 acts too much Uke the unsanctified, and in other 
 things how much the hypocrite may act like a saint. 
 He may be externally humbled ; so was Ahab. He 
 may pray under the rod, Mai. ii. 13. : yea, and re- 
 quest others to pray for him; so did Simon, Acts 
 viii. 24. 
 
 Sect. HI. — But though the sound and unsound 
 heart differs not in some external things under the 
 rod, yet there are effects of adversity which are pe- 
 culiar to either, and will discriminate them. To 
 which end let us first see what effects adversity is 
 usually followed with in unsound and carnal hearts : 
 and we shall find, among others, these five symptoms 
 of an ungodly heart appearing under crosses and 
 afflictions : — 
 
 1. A graceless heart is not quickly and easily 
 brought to see the hand of God in those troubles 
 that befall it, and to be duly affected with it: " Lord, 
 when thy hand is lifted up, they will not see." 
 When it has smitten, or is lifted up to smite, they 
 shut their eyes. It is the maUce of this man, or 
 the negligence of that, or the unfaithfulness of ano- 
 ther, that has brought all this trouble upon me. 
 Thus the creature is the horizon that terminates their 
 sight, and beyond that they usually see nothing. 
 Sometimes indeed the hand of God is so immediately 
 manifested, and convincingly discovered in afflictions, 
 that they cannot avoid the sight of it ; and then they 
 may, in their way, pour out a prayer before him ; 
 but ordinarily they impute all to second causes, and 
 overlook the first cause of their troubles. 
 
277 
 
 2. Nor is it usual with these men under the rod 
 to retire into their closets, and search their hearts 
 there, to find out the particular cause and provoca- 
 tion of their affliction : " No man repented him of 
 his wickedness, saying, What have I done ?" What 
 cursed thing is there in me, that has thus incensed the 
 anger of God against me ? God visits their iniquities 
 with afflictions, but they visit not their own hearts by 
 self-examination. God judges them, but they judge 
 not themselves. He shows their iniquities in a clear 
 glass, but none saith, " What have I done ?" This 
 phrase, " What have I done ?" is the voice of one 
 that recollects himself after a rash action; or the 
 voice of a man astonished at the discovery afflictions 
 make of his sins ; but no such voice as this is ordi- 
 narily heard among carnal men. 
 
 3. An unsound professor, if left to his choice, 
 would rather choose sin than affliction; and sees 
 more evil in that than in this. And this cannot be 
 doubted, if we consider that the principle by which 
 all unregenerated men are actuated, is sense, not 
 faith. Hence Job's friends would have argued his 
 hypocrisy. Job xxxvi. 21.; and had their application 
 been as right as their rule, it would have proved it : 
 ** This hast thou chosen, rather than affliction." 
 
 I do not say that an upright man cannot commit 
 a moral evil, to escape a penal evil. O that daily 
 observation did not too plentifully furnish us with 
 sad instances of this kind ! But upright ones do not, 
 dare not, upon a serious deliberate discussion and de- 
 bate, choose sin rather than affliction. What they 
 may do from surprisals and in the violence of tempta- 
 tion, is of another nature. 
 
278 
 
 But a false and unsound heart discovers itself in 
 the choice it makes on deliberation, and that fre- 
 quently when sin and trouble come in competition. 
 *' Put the case," says Augustine, " that a ruffian 
 should with one hand set the cup of drunkenness to 
 thy mouth, and with the other a dagger to thy breast, 
 and say, Drink or die ; thou shouldst rather choose 
 to die sober, than to live a drunkard." And many 
 Christians have resisted unto blood, striving against 
 sin, and, with renowned Moses, chosen affliction, the 
 worst of afflictions, yea, death itself in the most for- 
 midable appearance, rather than sin; and it is the 
 habitual temper and resolution of every gracious 
 heart so to do, though those holy resolutions are 
 sometimes overborne by the violence of temptation. 
 
 But the hypocrite dreads less the defilement of his 
 soul, than the loss of his estate, liberty, or life. If 
 you ask. Upon what ground then does the Apostle 
 suppose, in 1 Cor. xiii. 3. that a man may give his 
 body to be burnt, and not have charity? that the 
 salamander of hypocrisy may live in the flame of mar- 
 tyrdom ? The answer is at hand : They that choose 
 death in the sense of this text, do not choose it to 
 escape sin, but to feed and indulge it. Those strange 
 adventures, if any such there be, are rather to main- 
 tain their own honour, and enrol their names among 
 worthy and famous persons to posterity, or out of a 
 blind zeal for their espoused errors and mistakes, than 
 in a due regard for the glory of God, and the pre- 
 servation of integrity. " I fear to speak it, but it 
 must be spoken," saith Hierom, " that even martyr- 
 dom itself, when suffered for admiration and applause, 
 profits nothing ; but is blood shed in vain." 
 
279 
 
 4. It is the property of an unregenerate soul, un- 
 der adversity, to turn from creature to creature for 
 support and comfort, and not from every creature to 
 God alone. So long as their feet can touch ground, 
 so long as they can feel any creature-relief or comfort 
 under them, they can subsist and live in afflictions; 
 but when they lose ground, when all creature-refuge 
 fails, then their hearts fail too. 
 
 Thus Zedekiah and the self-deceiving Jews, when 
 they saw that their own strength failed them, and 
 there was little hope left that they should deliver 
 themselves from the Chaldeans, what do they in that 
 strait? Do they, with upright Jehoshaphat, say, 
 " Our eyes are unto thee ?" No ; their eyes were 
 upon Egypt for succour, not upon heaven. Pharaoh 
 and his aids are left them still, all hope is not gone, 
 Jer. xxxvii. 9. See the like in Ahaz. In a sore 
 distress, he courts the king of Assyria for help, 
 2 Chron. xxviii. 22. That project failing, then he 
 will try what the gods of Damascus can do for him. 
 Any way rather than the right way. 
 
 So it is with many others. If one child dies, how- 
 do they act? Run to God, and comfort themselves 
 in this : The Lord liveth, though my child die ? If 
 an estate is lost and a family sinking, do they with 
 David comfort themselves in the everlasting covenant, 
 ordered and sure ? No ; but if one relation dies, 
 there is another alive : if one estate is lost, yet not 
 all ; something is left still, and the case will mend. 
 As long as such men have any visible encourage- 
 ment, they will hang upon it; and not make up all 
 in Christ, and encourage themselves in the Lord. 
 To tell them of rejoicing in the Lord, when the fig- 
 tree blossoms not, is what they cannot understand. 
 
280 
 
 5. An unsound heart never comes out of the fur- 
 nace of affliction purged, mortified, and more spiritual 
 and holy than when he was cast into it. His scum 
 and dross is not there separated from him ; nay, the 
 more he is afflicted, the worse he is. " Why should 
 ye be smitten any more ? Ye will revolt more and 
 more." And, to keep to our metaphor, consult Jer. 
 vi. 29. God had put that incorrigible people, the 
 Israelites, into the furnace of affliction, and kept 
 them long in that fire; and what was the issue? 
 ** The bellows are burnt," says the prophet, " the 
 lead is consumed of the fire, the founder melteth in 
 vain : reprobate silver shall men call them, because 
 the Lord hath rejected them." If the fire of afflic- 
 tion be continually blown till the very bellows be burnt, 
 that is, the tongue, or rather the lungs of the pro- 
 phet, which have some resemblance ; though these be 
 even spent in reproving, and threatening, and denounc- 
 ing woe upon woe, and judgment upon judgment, and 
 God fulfils his word upon them, yet still they are as 
 before ; the dross remains. Though Jerusalem be 
 made a pot, and the inhabitants the flesh boiling in 
 it, as is said in Ezek. xxiv. 6, 13. "the scum re- 
 mains with them," and cannot be separated by the 
 fire ; and the reason is plain, because no affliction in 
 itself purges sin, but as it is sanctified, and works in 
 the virtue of God's blessing, and in pursuance of the 
 promises. 
 
 O think on this, you that have had thousands of 
 afflictions of one kind and another, and none of them 
 all have done you good, nor mortified, humbled, or 
 benefited you at all. 
 
 And thus you see what the effects of adversity 
 are, when it meets with a graceless heart. 
 
281 
 
 Sect. IV. — By this time, reader, I suppose thou 
 art desirous to know what effects adversity and affliction 
 generally have, when they meet with an honest and 
 sincere heart. Only, before I come to particulars, I 
 think it needful to acquaint thee, that the fruits of 
 afflictions are mostly after-fruits, and not so discerni- 
 ble by the Christian himself under the rod, as after 
 he has been exercised by it, and calmly reflects upon 
 what is past, Heb. xii. 11. Nor does every Chris- 
 tian attain the same measure and degree : some re- 
 joice, others commonly submit. But I think these 
 seven effects are ordinarily found in all upright hearts 
 that pass under the rod :— 
 
 1. The sincere and upright soul betakes itself to 
 God in affliction, Job i. 20. When God was smit- 
 ing. Job was praying ; when God afflicted, Job wor- 
 shipped. So David : "I found sorrow and trouble, 
 then called I upon the name of the Lord." And 
 when the messenger of Satan buffeted Paul, " For 
 this cause," says he, " I besought the Lord thrice." 
 Alas ! whither should a child go in distress, but to 
 its father ? 
 
 2. He sees and owns the hand of God in his 
 afflictions, how much or little soever of the instruments 
 of trouble appear. " The Lord hath taken away," 
 says Job. " God hath bidden him," says David. 
 If the blow come from the hand of a wicked man, yet 
 he sees that wicked hand in God's righteous hand. 
 And this apprehension is fundamental to all that com- 
 munion which men have with God in their afflictions, 
 and to all the peaceableness and gracious submission 
 of their spirits under the rod. He who sees nothing 
 of God in his troubles, has nothing of God in his 
 soul. 
 
282 
 
 3. He can justify God in all the afflictions and 
 troubles that come upon him, be they ever so severe. 
 ** Thou art just in all that is brought upon us," says 
 Nehemiah. " Thou hast punished us less than our 
 iniquities deserve," says Ezra. " It is of the Lord's 
 mercies we are not consumed," says the church. Are 
 we in Babylon ? It is a mercy we are not in hell. 
 If God condemn the behever, yet he will justify God. 
 If God cast him into a sea of trouble, yet he will 
 acknowledge, that in all that sea of trouble there is 
 not one drop of injustice. If I have not deserved 
 such usage from the hands of men, yet I have de- 
 served worse than this at the hands of God. 
 
 4. Afflictions generally melt and humble gracious 
 hearts. There is a habitual tenderness planted in 
 their spirits, and a just occasion quickly draws it 
 forth. And so usual a thing is it for gracious hearts 
 to be humbled under the afflictings of God, that 
 affliction is on that account called humiliation ; the 
 effect being put for the cause, to show that where 
 one is, the other will be : " My God will humble 
 me ;" that is, he will afflict me with the sight of your 
 sins and disorders ; and if a gracious soul be so apt 
 to be humbled for other men's sins, much more for 
 its own. 
 
 5. The upright soul is inquisitive under the rod, 
 to find out that evil for which the Lord contends with 
 him by affliction : " Show me wherefore thou con- 
 tendest with me." " That which I see not, teach 
 thou me. If I have done iniquity, I will do no 
 more." " Let us search and try our ways, and turn 
 again to the Lord." In afflicting, God searches 
 them ; and under affliction, they search themselves. 
 
283 
 
 They are willing to hear the voice of the rod, and 
 glad of any discovery it makes in their hearts. 
 
 6. The upright heart chooseth to lie under afflic- 
 tion, rather than to be delivered from it by sin. I 
 say, this is the choice and resolution of every upright 
 heart, however it may be sometimes overborne by the 
 violence of temptation : "Not accepting deliverance," 
 that is, on sinful terms and conditions, Heb. xi. 35. 
 
 They are sensible how the flesh smarts under the 
 rod, but had rather it should smart, than conscience 
 should smart under guilt. Affliction, says an upright 
 soul, grieves me, but sin will grieve God : affliction 
 wounds my flesh, but sin will wound my soul. De- 
 liverance I long for, but I will not pay so dearly for 
 it, how much soever I desire it. Outward ease is 
 sweet, but inward peace is sweeter. 
 
 7. He prizes the spiritual good gotten by afflic- 
 tion, above deliverance from it, and can bless God 
 from his heart for those mercies, how dear soever his 
 flesh has paid for them : " It is good for me that I 
 have been afflicted." Such is the value the people of 
 God have for spiritual graces, that they cannot think 
 them dear, whatever their flesh has paid for them. 
 The mortification of one lust, one discovery of sin- 
 cerity, one manifestation of God to their souls, much 
 more than makes amends for all that they have en- 
 dured under the rod. Is patience improved, self-ac- 
 quaintance increased, the vanity of the creature more 
 effectually taught, longings after heaven inflamed ? 
 O blessed afflictions, that are attended with such 
 blessed fruits ! It was the saying of a holy man, 
 under a sore trouble for the death of an only son, 
 when in that dark day God had graciously manifested 
 
284 
 
 himself to his soul, " O I would be contented, if it 
 were possible to lay an only son in the grave every 
 day I have to live in the world, for one such disco- 
 very of the love of God as I now enjoy." 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Showing, that indwelling sin is to grace, whatjire is 
 to gold ; and that the soundness and unsoundness 
 of our hearts are discovered by it. 
 
 Sect. I. — Prosperity and adversity put sincerity 
 to the trial ; but nothing makes a deeper search into 
 our bosoms, nothing sifts our spirits more narrowly, 
 or tells us what our state is more plainly, than our 
 behaviour towards that corruption which dwells in us. 
 The thorn is next neighbour to the rose. Sin and 
 grace dwell not only in the same soul, but in the same 
 faculties. The coUier and fuller dwell in one room ; 
 what one cleanses the other blackens. Of all the 
 evils God permits in this world, none is more grie- 
 vous to his people than this. They sometimes won- 
 der why the Lord will suffer it to be so. Among 
 other wise and holy ends of this permission, these are 
 surely some. They are left to try you, and to hum- 
 ble you. There is no intrinsic goodness in sin; but, 
 however, in this it occasions good to us, that by our 
 conduct towards it we discern our sincerity. The 
 touchstone is a worthless stone in itself, but it serves 
 to try the gold. " Whatsoever is born of God, 
 doth not commit sin ; for his seed remaineth in him, 
 
285 
 
 and he cannot sin, because he is born of God. In 
 this the cliildren of God are manifest, and the chil- 
 dren of the devil :" In respect of their carriage towards 
 sin, the one and the other is plainly manifested. 
 This is that which separates the dross from the gold, 
 and shows you what the true state of men's persons, 
 and the tempers of their hearts are. By not sinning, 
 we are not to understand a total freedom from sin, as 
 if it implied any such perfection of the people of 
 God in this world : this is the Popish and Pelagian 
 sense. Nor yet must we take it in the Arminian 
 sense, who, to avoid the argument of the orthodox, 
 will understand it of the sin against the Holy Ghost. 
 What a strange thing would it be, to make that a 
 characteristic note of distinction betwixt the godly 
 and ungodly, which so very few, even of the most un- 
 godly, are ever guilty of ! But the manner of our 
 behaviour towards sin, and our carriage towards it 
 before, or under, or after the commission of it, in 
 that the children of God are manifest, and the chil- 
 dren of the devil. 
 
 Now there are five things relating to sin that dis- 
 criminate and mark the state of the persons. The 
 difference is discernible, 1. In our abstinence from 
 sin ; 2. Hatred of sin ; 3. Trouble about sin ; 4. 
 Subjection to sin ; 5. Opposition to sin. 
 
 Sect. II. — The grounds and motives of our absti- 
 nence from sin very clearly manifest the state of our 
 souls. What they are in the regenerate and unre- 
 generate, is our next work. 
 
 1. Let it be considered, that an unsound and un- 
 renewed heart may abstain from one sin, because it 
 is contrary to, and inconsistent with, another sin. It 
 
286 
 
 is with the sins of our nature, as it is with the dis- 
 eases of our bodies. Though all diseases are con- 
 trary to health, yet some diseases, as the fever and 
 palsy, are contrary to each other. So are prodigality 
 and covetousness, hypocrisy and profaneness. These 
 oppose each other, not for mutual destruction, as sin 
 and grace do, but for superiority, each contending 
 for the throne, and sometimes taking it by turns. It 
 is with such persons as with that possessed man, Matt, 
 xvii. 15. whom the spirit cast sometimes into the fire, 
 sometimes into the water. Or if one subdue the 
 other, yet the heart is also subdued to the vassalage 
 of that lust which is uppermost in the soul. 
 
 2. An unrenewed man may be kept from the com- 
 mission of some sin, not because there is a principle 
 of grace within him, but because of some providential 
 restraint without him, or upon him ; for it often falls 
 out, that when men have conceived sin, and are ready 
 to execute it. Providence puts on them the fetters of 
 restraint, and hinders them from so doing. This 
 was the case with Abimelech, Gen. xx. " I withheld 
 thee." And though persons so restrained have not 
 the good of such providences, yet others have ; for 
 by it a world of mischief is prevented in the world, 
 which otherwise would break out; and to this act of 
 Providence we owe our lives, liberties, estates, and 
 comforts in this world. 
 
 3. An unsound heart may not commit some sins, 
 not because he truly hates them, but because his con- 
 stitution inclines him not to them. These men are 
 rather beholden to a good temper of body, than to a 
 gracious temper of soul. Some men cannot be 
 drunkards if they would, others cannot be covetous 
 
287 
 
 and base; they are made of a more refined metal than 
 others. But chaste and hberal, just and sober na- 
 ture, is but nature still. The best nature, in all its 
 endowments, is but nature at the best. 
 
 4. A graceless heart may be restrained from sin 
 by the force of education, and principles of morahty 
 that have been instilled into it. Thus Jehoash was 
 restrained from sin : " And Jehoash did that which 
 was right in the sight of the Lord, all the days 
 wherein Johoiadah the priest instructed him." The 
 fear of a parent or master will do a great deal more 
 with some in this case than the fear of God. The 
 influences of strict education nip off the excrescences 
 of budding vice. The way we are taught when 
 young, we keep when old. This is the influence of 
 man upon man, not the influence of the regenerating 
 Spirit upon men. 
 
 5. A graceless heart may be kept from some sins 
 by fear of the events, both in this world, and in that 
 to come. Sin that is followed with infamy and re- 
 proach among men, may on this ground be forborne ; 
 not because God has forbidden it, but because human 
 laws will punish it, and the sober world will brand us 
 for it. And some look farther, to the punishment 
 of sin in hell. They are not afraid to sin, but they 
 are afraid to burn. Here sin is like a sweet rose in 
 a brake of thorns ; fain we would have it, but are 
 loath to tear our flesh to obtain it. It is good that 
 sin is prevented any way ; but to be kept on this 
 ground from sin, does not argue the state of the per- 
 son to be good. And thus you see some of the 
 grounds on which carnal men are restrained : and in 
 this " the children of the devil are manifest." 
 
288 
 
 Sect. III. — But there are grounds of abstinence 
 from sin, by which " the children of God are also 
 manifested;" and such are these that follow: — 
 
 1. A sincere heart dares not sin because of the 
 eye and fear of God, which is upon him. So you 
 find it in Job xxxi. 1, 4. He durst not allow his 
 thoughts to sin, because he lived under the awe of 
 God's eye. Nehemiah durst not do as former go- 
 vernors had done, though an opportunity presented 
 to enrich himself, " because of the fear of his God." 
 The soul that hves under the awe of this Eye, will 
 be as conscientious where no discovery can be made 
 by creatures, as if all the world were looking on. 
 " Thou shalt not curse the deaf, nor put a stumbling- 
 block before the blind; but shalt fear thy God: I 
 am the Lord." What if a man do curse the deaf, 
 the deaf cannot hear him ; and what if he do put a 
 stumbling-block before the blind, tlie blind cannot 
 see him. True, but God sees him; God hears 
 him. That is enough to a man who has the fear of 
 the Lord upon his heart. 
 
 2. As the fear of God, so the love of God, is a 
 principle of restraint from sin to the soul that is up- 
 right. This kept back Joseph from sin : " How can 
 I do this great wickedness, and sin against God ?" 
 «« How can I?" He speaks as a man who feels 
 himself bound up from sin by the goodness and love 
 of God that had been manifested to him. Hath he 
 delivered me from the pit into which my envious 
 brethren cast me? Hath he, in so miraculous a 
 way, advanced me to all this honour and power in 
 Egypt ? And now, after all his kindness and love 
 to me, shall I sin against him? O how can I do 
 
289 
 
 this against so good, so gracious a God ? So Psalm 
 xcvii. 10. " Ye that love the Lord, hate evil." Love 
 will cry out in the hour of temptation, Is this thy 
 kindness to thy friend ? Dost thou thus requite the 
 Lord for all his kindnesses ? 
 
 3. As the love of God, so the intrinsic evil and 
 filthiness that is in sin, keeps back the gracious soul 
 from it. " Abhor that which is evil :" hate it as hell 
 itself; or, as the French translation has it, " Be in 
 horror." As the apprehensions of hell, so the ap- 
 prehensions of sin, impress horror upon the mind 
 that is sanctified. Nothing is more loathsome to a 
 holy soul. Its aversations from it are with the high- 
 est indignation and loathing. 
 
 4. The renewed nature of a saint restrains him 
 from sin : " The spirit lusteth against the flesh, so 
 that ye cannot do the thing ye would." " Ye can- 
 not !" why cannot ye ? because it is against your new 
 nature. 
 
 Beloved, this is a very remarkable thing in the 
 experience of all renewed men, that, upon the reno- 
 vation of men's principles, their delights, and their 
 aversions and loathings, are quite opposite to what 
 they were before. In their carnal state, vain com- 
 pany and sinful exercises were their delight. To 
 be separated from these, and tied to prayer, medita- 
 tion, heavenly discourse and company, O what a 
 bondage would that have been ! Now, to be tied to 
 such carnal society, and restrained from such duties 
 of godliness, and the society of the godly, is become 
 a much sorer bondage to the soul. 
 
 5. Experience of the bitterness of sin, is a restraint 
 to a gracious heart. They who have had so many 
 
 K 60 
 
290 
 
 sick days and sorrowful nights for sin, are loath to 
 taste that wormwood and gall again which their soul 
 hath still in remembrance : " In that ye sorrowed 
 after a godly sort, what carefulness it wrought !" 
 The believer would not grapple with those inward 
 troubles again, he would not have the cheerful light 
 of God's countenance eclipsed again, for all, and 
 much more than all, the pleasures that are in sin. 
 
 6. The consideration of the sufferings of Christ 
 for sin, powerfully withholds a gracious soul from the 
 commission of it. " Our old man is crucified with 
 him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that 
 henceforth we should not serve sin." Were there a 
 knife or sword in the house, that had been thrust 
 tlirough the heart of your father, could you ever en- 
 dure the siirht of it ? Sin was the sword that 
 pierced Christ, and so the death of Christ becomes 
 the death of sin in his people. Thus the children 
 of God and the children of the devil are manifest, in 
 the principles and reasons of their abstinence from sin. 
 
 Sect. IV. — They are also manifested by their 
 hatred of sin. This puts a clear distinction betwixt 
 them ; for no false or unregenerate heart can hate sin 
 as sin. 
 
 1. He may indeed hate sin in another, but not in 
 himself. Thus one proud man hates another. Dio- 
 genes, when he trampled Plato's fine clothes under 
 foot, said, " I spurn the pride of Plato." Plato re- 
 plied, " Thou tramplest upon my pride, but it is with 
 greater pride." " Why," said Christ to the hypo- 
 crite, " beholdest thou the mote that is in thy bro- 
 ther's eye, but considerest not the beam that is in 
 thine own eye ?" How quick in espying, and rash 
 
291 
 
 in censuring, the smallest fault in another, is the 
 hypocrite ! It was but one fault, and that but a 
 small one, but a mote, that he could find in another ; 
 yet this he quickly discerns. It may be there were 
 many excellent graces in him ; these he overlooks, 
 but the mote he plainly discerns. It may be that 
 mote in his brother's eye had drawn many tears from 
 it, but these he takes no notice of: and meanwhile 
 there is a beam, a great, horrid, flagitious evil, in 
 himself; but it is too near him to be discerned or be- 
 wailed. This is a sad symptom of a naughty heart. 
 
 2. He may hate it in its effects and consequences, 
 not in its own nature ; as the thief hates the gallows, 
 not the wickedness that he has done. It is not sin 
 itself, but sin in its connection with hell, that is fright- 
 ful to him. The unsound professor could wish that 
 there were no such threatening in the Bible against 
 sin. When sin tempts him, I would consent, says he, 
 but I fear the consequence. O sin, could I separate 
 thee from hell, nothing should separate thee and me. 
 
 3. He may hate it for a moment or a pang, but 
 not with a rooted, habitual hatred. It is plain, from 
 2 Peter ii. 22. that sin may sometimes lie upon the 
 conscience of an unregenerate man, as a load lies 
 upon a sick stomach ; and so he may discharge him- 
 self of it by reformation, restitution : but a httle time 
 reconciles the quarrel betwixt him and his lust again. 
 If they fall out, they will fall in again : " The dog 
 returned to his vomit, and the sow that was washed, 
 to her wallowing in the mire." 
 
 But an upright soul hates sin in another manner ; 
 and in this hatred of sin the children of God are 
 manifest. 
 
 N 2 
 
29^ 
 
 1. The opposition of sin to God, is the very 
 ground and formal reason upon which a gracious soul 
 opposes and hates it. If it be opposite to the holy- 
 nature and law of God, it cannot but be odious in 
 his eyes. This cut David's heart : " Against thee, 
 thee only, have I sinned." I have wronged Uriah 
 greatly ; I have wronged myself and family greatly : 
 but the wrong I have done to others is not worth 
 naming, in comparison of the wrong I have done to 
 thee. 
 
 2. The upright soul hates sin in himself more than 
 he hates it in any other ; as a man hates a serpent in 
 the hedge, but much more in his own bosom. " I 
 see another law in my members :" " I find then a 
 law, that when I would do good, evil is present with 
 me." I do not know how others find it, but I am 
 sure I find sin in my very bosom, in my very bowels; 
 it is present with me. " O wretched man that I 
 am !" A gracious soul can mourn to see it in others, 
 but to find it in himself pierces him to the very heart. 
 
 3. The gracious soul hates not only this or that 
 particular sin, but the whole kind, every thing that 
 is sinful. True hatred is of the whole nature or 
 kind : " I hate every false way." His reasonings 
 proceed from sin as sin, concluding against every sin ; 
 sins that are profitable and pleasant, as well as sins 
 that have neither profit nor pleasure; sins that are 
 secret, as well as sins that are open, and such as will 
 defame him. 
 
 And before this trial a false heart cannot stand ; 
 for he always indulges some lust. There is an ini- 
 quity from which he cannot be separated. 
 
 4. The sincere soul hates sin with an irreconcilable 
 
£93 
 
 hatred. There was a time when sin and his soul fell 
 out ; but there never will be a time of reconciliation 
 betwixt them again. That breach, which effectual 
 conviction once made, can never be made up any 
 more : " They will return no more to folly." And, 
 indeed, it seems to them who have suffered so much 
 for sin, who have endured so many fears and sorrows 
 for it, the greatest folly in the world to return to sin 
 again. No ; they admire the mercy of their escape 
 from sin to their dying day, and never look back upon 
 their former state but with shame and grief. Ask a 
 convert. Would you be back again where once you 
 were ? Would you be among your old companions 
 again ? Would you be fulfilling the lusts of the flesh 
 again ? And he will tell you, he would not run the 
 hazard of abiding one day or one night in that con- 
 dition again, to gain all the kingdoms of the world 
 the next morning. 
 
 5. The sincere soul hates sin with a superlative 
 hatred. He hates it more than any other evil in the 
 world besides. Penal evils are not pleasant in them- 
 selves ; but yet if he must endure them or sin, then 
 he chooses sufferings : " choosing rather to suffer af- 
 fliction than enjoy the pleasures of sin ;" the worst of 
 sufferings, rather than the best of sins. 
 
 6. So deep is the hatred that upright ones bear to 
 sin, that nothing pleases them more than the thoughts 
 of a full deliverance from it. " I thank God, through 
 Jesus Christ our Lord." What does he so heartily 
 thank God for ? For a prospect of his final deliver- 
 ance from sin ; never to be entangled, defiled, or 
 troubled with it any more. And this is one thing 
 that sweetens death to the saints as much as any 
 
294 
 
 thing in the world can do, except Christ's victory over 
 it, and lying in the grave for us. To think of a 
 grave, is not pleasant in itself; but to think of a part- 
 ing-time with sin, that is sweet and pleasant indeed. 
 
 Sect. V. — The children of God and the children 
 of the devil, pure gold and vile dross, are manifest, 
 as in hatred of sin, so in their troubles and sorrows 
 about sin. 
 
 All trouble for sin argues not sincerity. Some 
 have reason to be troubled even for their troubles for 
 isin. 
 
 1. And they are of this number, who are troubled 
 only for the commission of some more gross sins that 
 startle the natural conscience, but not for inward sins 
 that defile the soul. Judas was troubled for betray- 
 ing innocent blood, but not for that base lust of co- 
 vetousness that was the root of it, or the want of 
 sincere love to Jesus Christ. Outward sins are sins 
 of greater scandal, but heart-sins are oftentimes sins 
 of greater guilt. To be troubled for grosser sins, 
 and have no trouble for ordinary sins daily incurred, 
 is an ill sign of a bad heart. 
 
 2, A graceless heart may be much troubled at the 
 discovery of sin, when it is not troubled for the guilt 
 of sin : " As the thief is ashamed when he is found, 
 so is the house of Israel ashamed." Hence it is, 
 that some men stick not to commit ten sins against 
 God, to hide one sin from the eyes of men. It is a 
 mercy that sin is the matter of men's shame, and that 
 all are not arrived at that height of impudence to de- 
 clare their sin as Sodom, and glory in their shame. 
 But to be ashamed only because men see it, and not 
 with Ezra, to say, " O my God, I am ashamed, and 
 
295 
 
 blush to look up unto thee," ashamed that thou seest 
 it, — this is but hypocrisy. 
 
 3. A gracigiw heart may be troubled also for the 
 rod that sin draws after it, but not for sin itself, as 
 it provokes God to inflict rods. 
 
 But the troubles of upright ones for sin are of 
 another kind and nature. 
 
 1. They are troubled that God is wronged, and 
 his Spirit troubled by their sins. So the penitent 
 prodigal: " I have sinned against heaven, and in 
 thy sight :" against heaven, that is, against him whose 
 throne is in heaven — a great, glorious, and infinite 
 Majesty ! A poor worm of the earth has lifted up 
 his hand against the God of heaven. 
 
 2. They are troubled for the defilement of their 
 own souls by sin. Hence they are compared, in 
 Prov. XXV. 26. to a troubled fountain. You know 
 it is the property of a living spring, when any filth 
 falls into it, or that which lies in the bottom of its 
 channel is raised, and defiles its streams, never to 
 leave working until it has purged itself of it, and re- 
 covered its purity again. So it is with a righteous 
 man. He loves purity in the precept, Psalm cxix. 
 140. ; and he loves it no less in the principle and 
 practice. He thinks it is hell enough to lie under 
 the pollution of sin, if he should never come under 
 damnation for it. 
 
 3. They are troubled for the estrangements of 
 God, and the hidings of his face from them because 
 of their sin. It would go close to an ingenuous 
 spirit, to see a dear and faithful friend, whom he has 
 grieved, to look strange and shy upon him at the 
 next meeting, as if he did not know him ; much more 
 
296 
 
 does it go to the heart of a gracious man, to see the 
 face of God turned from him, and not to be towards 
 him as in times past. This went to David*s heart 
 after his fall, as you may see in Psalm li. 11. " Cast 
 me not away from thy presence, and take not thy 
 Holy Spirit from me." Lord, if thou turn thy back 
 upon me, and estrange thyself from me, I am a lost 
 man ; that is the greatest mischief that can befall me. 
 Their troubles for sin run deep in comparison with 
 what other men's do. They are strong to bear other 
 troubles, but sink and faint under this. Psalm xxxviii. 
 4. Other sorrows may, for the present, be violent, 
 and make more noise, but this sorrow sinks deeper 
 into the soul. 
 
 5. Their troubles for sin are more private and 
 silent troubles than others are : their " sore runs in 
 the night," as it is in Psalm Ixxvii. 2. Not but 
 that they may, and do open their troubles to men ; 
 and it is a mercy when they meet with a judicious, 
 tender, and experienced Christian to unbosom them- 
 selves unto ; but, when all is done, it is God and thy 
 soul alone that must whisper out the matter. That 
 is indeed a sincere sorrow for sin, which is expressed 
 secretly to God in the closet. 
 
 6. Their troubles are incurable by creature-com- 
 forts. It is not the removing of some outward pres- 
 sures and inconveniences that can remove their bur- 
 den. Nothing but pardon, peace, and witnessed 
 reconciliation, can quiet the gracious heart. 
 
 7. Their troubles for sin are ordinate, and kept in 
 their own place. They dare not stamp the dignity 
 of Christ's blood upon their worthless tears and groans 
 for sin. " Lord, wash my sinful tears in the blood 
 of Christ," was once the desire of a true penitent. 
 
297 
 
 And thus our trouble for sin shows us what our 
 
 hearts are. 
 
 Sect. VI. — The behaviour and carriage of the 
 soul with respect to subjection to the commands of 
 sin, shows what our estate and condition is. This 
 will separate dross from gold. All unregenerate men 
 are the servants of sin; they subject themselves to its 
 commands. This the Scripture sometimes calls a 
 " conversation in the lusts of the flesh ;" sometimes 
 the " selling of themselves to sin." Now, as Dr. 
 Reynolds observes, though the children of God com- 
 plain, with Paul, that they are " sold under sin," 
 yet there is a vast difference betwixt these two : the 
 saints are sold to it by Adam, but others by their 
 own continued consent. But, to show you the dif- 
 ference in this matter, I conceive it necessary to show 
 wherein the reigning power of sin does not consist, 
 and then whereTn it does; that you may plainly dis- 
 cern who are in subjection to the reigning power of 
 their corruptions, and who are not. Now, there are 
 divers things common both to the regenerate and 
 unregenerate ; and we cannot say the dominion of 
 sin lies in any or in all of them, abstractedly and 
 simply considered. 
 
 1. Both one and the other having original cor- 
 ruption dwelling in them, may also find this fountain 
 breaking forth into gross and scandalous sins. But 
 we cannot say, that because original corruption thus 
 breaks forth into gross and scandalous sins in both, 
 therefore it must needs reign in the one as well as in 
 the other. A righteous man may " fall before the 
 wicked." He may fall into the dirt of grosser ini- 
 quities, and furnish them with matter of reproach. 
 n3 
 
298 
 
 So did David, Peter, Abraham, and many more of 
 the Lord's upright-hearted ones, whose souls never- 
 theless sin did not reign over by a voluntary subjec- 
 tion to its commands; nor must this embolden any 
 to sin with more liberty. 
 
 2. Though an upright soul fall once and again 
 into sin, though he reiterate the same act of sin which 
 he has repented of before, yet it cannot merely from 
 thence be concluded, that therefore sin reigns over 
 him, as it does over a wicked man who makes it his 
 daily trade. I confess every reiteration of sin puts a 
 further aggravation upon it; and it is said that we 
 should repent and sin, and sin and repent; but yet 
 you read, in Prov. xxiv. 16. "A just man falleth 
 seven times, and riseth up again." Job's friends 
 were good men, yet he tells them, " These ten times 
 have ye reproached me." This indeed shows a heart 
 that greatly needs purging; for it is with relapses 
 into spiritual, as it is with relapses into natural disr 
 eases : return of the disease shows that the morbific 
 matter was not duly purged. But though it shows 
 the foulness, it does not always prove the falseness, 
 of the heart. 
 
 3. Though the one may be impatient of the re- 
 proof of his sin, as well as the other, yet that alone 
 will not conclude sin to be in full dominion over the 
 one, as it is over the other. It is a pity that any 
 good man should storm at a just rebuke of sin ; that 
 such a precious oil as is proper to heal, should be 
 imagined to break his head; but yet flesh will be 
 tender and touchy, even in good men. Asa was a 
 good man, and yet he was wroth with the prophet 
 who reproved him, 2 Chron. xvi. 10, Yet I doubt 
 
299 
 
 not but that their consciences smite them for it, when 
 pride suffers not another to do it. A reproof may be 
 well-timed and ill-managed by another, and so may 
 provoke ; but they will hear the voice of conscience 
 in another manner. 
 
 4. Though in both some one particular sin may 
 have more power than another, yet neither does this 
 alone prove, that therefore that sin must reign in 
 one as it does in another. Indeed, the beloved lust 
 of every wicked man is king over his soul ; but yet 
 a godly man's constitution or calling may incline him 
 more to one sin than another; and yet neither that 
 nor any other may be said to be in dominion : for 
 though David speaks of his iniquity, his special sin, 
 in Psalm xviii. 23. which some suppose to be the sin 
 of lying, from that intimation in Psalm cxix. 19. ; yet 
 you see in one place he begs God to keep him from 
 it, and in the other he tells us he kept himself from 
 it, and both show he was not the servant of it. 
 
 5. Though both may sin against knowledge, yet 
 it will not follow from thence, that therefore sins 
 against knowledge must needs be sins in dominion hi 
 the one, as they are in the other. There was too 
 much light abused and violence offered in David's de- 
 liberated sin, as he confesses in Psalm li. 6. and the 
 sad story itself too plainly shows ; and yet, in the 
 main, David was an upright man still ; though this 
 consideration of the fact wounded his integrity, and 
 stands upon record for a caution to all others. 
 
 Sect. VII. We have seen what does not infer 
 the dominion of sin in the former particulars, being 
 simply considered ; 1 shall next show you what does, 
 and how sincere and false hearts are distinguished in 
 this trial. . 
 
soo 
 
 1. Assent and consent upon deliberation notes the 
 soul to be under the dominion of sin. When the 
 mind approves sin, and the will gives its plenary con- 
 sent to it, this sets up sin in its throne, and puts the 
 soul into subjection to it ; for the dominion of sin con- 
 sists in its authority over us, and our voluntary sub- 
 jection to it. This you find to be the character of a 
 wicked graceless person : " He deviseth mischief upon 
 his bed ; he setteth himself in a way that is not 
 good ; he abhorreth not evil." 
 
 The best men may fall into sin through mistake, 
 or be precipitated into sin through the violence of 
 temptation ; but to devise mischief, and set himself 
 in an evil way, this notes full assent of the mind ; and 
 then not to abhor evil, notes full consent of the will ; 
 and these two being given to sin, not only antece- 
 dently to the acting of it, but also consequently to it, 
 to like it afterwards as well as before : this puts the 
 soul fully under the power of the sin. What can it 
 give more ? This, in direct opposition to the apos- 
 tle, Rom. xii. 1. is to present their bodies a dead 
 sacrifice, unholy, and abominable to God, acceptable 
 to the devil, which is their unreasonable service. All 
 men by nature are given to sin, but these men give 
 themselves to it. 
 
 2. The customary practice of sin subjects the soul 
 to the dominion of sin ; and so, " He that is born of 
 God doth not commit sin." Fall into sin, yea, the 
 same sin, he may, and that often ; but then it is not 
 without reluctance, repentance, and a protest entered 
 by the soul in heaven against it ; so that sin has not 
 a quiet possession of his soul. He is not the servant 
 of sin, nor does he willingly walk after its command- 
 
SOI 
 
 ments ; but so do its own servants : it is their daily 
 practice ; '* they proceed from evil to evil." 
 
 3. Delight in sin proves the dominion of sin. So 
 the servants of sin are described: "They have chosen 
 their own ways, and their soul delighteth in their 
 abominations." 
 
 As our delight in God is the measure of our ho- 
 liness, so our delight in sin is the measure of our sin- 
 fulness. Delight in sin is the uppermost round of 
 the ladder, and much higher the soul of a sinner can- 
 not go, till it be turned off into hell : " It is a sport 
 to a fool to do mischief." He is never merrier than 
 when he has the devil for his play-fellow. 
 
 4. Impatience of Christ's yoke and government, 
 argues the soul to be the subject of sin. This is 
 dear from the apostle's reasoning : " But God be 
 thanked, that ye were the servants of sin ; but ye 
 have obeyed from the heart that form of doctrine 
 which was delivered you. Being then made free 
 from sin, ye became the servants of righteousness." 
 Where you see plainly, that no man can have his 
 manumission or freedom from sin, who comes not 
 into Christ's service, and yields himself up to his obe- 
 dience. So then, to fret at Christ's laws that tie us 
 up from our lusts, to be weary of all spiritual employ- 
 ments as a burden intolerable, never to be in our ele- 
 ment and centre till we are off from God, and plung- 
 ing in the world and our lusts, — this is a sad note of 
 a soul in subjection to sin. 
 
 Obj, But it may be said. May not an upright soul 
 find some weariness in spiritual things ? 
 
 Sol. Doubtless he may, for he has flesh as well as 
 spirit ; and " though the spirit be willing, the flesh 
 
302 
 
 is weak :" he is sanctified but in part, and his delight 
 in the law of God is but according to, or " after the 
 inner man ;" but he sees another law in his members, 
 that is, contrary inclinations. If, however, he be 
 weary sometimes in the duties of godliness, he is 
 more weary out of them, and is not centered and at 
 rest till he be with his God again : but the carnal 
 heart is where it would be when it is in the service 
 of sin, and as a fish upon dry land when engaged in 
 spiritual duties, especially such as are secret, and have 
 no external allurements of reputation to engage him 
 to them. 
 
 But what surprisals or captivities to sin soever may 
 befall an upright soul, yet it appears by these eight 
 following particulars, that he is not the servant of sin, 
 nor in full subjection to it : — 
 
 1. Though he may be drawn into sin, yet he can- 
 not reflect upon his sin without shame and sorrow, 
 which plainly shows it to be an involuntary surprise. 
 So Peter wept bitterly, and David mourned for his 
 sin heartily. Others can fetch new pleasures out of 
 their old sins, by reflecting on them ; and some can 
 glory in their shame : some are stupid and senseless 
 after sin ; and the sorrow of a carnal heart for it, is 
 but a morning dew; but it is far otherwise with God*s 
 people. 
 
 2. Though a saint may be drawn into sin, yet it 
 is not with a deliberate and full consent of his will : 
 " Their delight is in the law of God," — " They do 
 that which they would not ;" there are inward dislikes 
 from the new nature. And as for the case of Da- 
 vid, which seems to have so much of counsel and de- 
 liberation in it, yet it was but in a single act ; it was 
 
303 
 
 not in the general course of his life : he was upright 
 in all things, that is, in the general course and tenor 
 of his life. 
 
 3. Though an upright soul may fall into sin, yet 
 he is restless and unquiet in that condition, like a 
 bone out of joint ; and that bespeaks him to be none 
 of sin's servants : as, on the contrary, if a man be 
 engaged in the external duties of religion, and be 
 restless and unquiet there, his heart not being in it, 
 he not being at rest till he is again in his earthly 
 business ; this man cannot be reckoned Christ's ser- 
 vant. A gracious heart is much after that rate em- 
 ployed in the work of sin, that a carnal heart is em- 
 ployed in the work of religion. That is a good rule, 
 That is a man's true temper, wherein he is at rest. 
 Poor David fell into sin ; but he had no rest in his 
 bones because of it. If his heart be off from God 
 and duty for a little while, yet he recollects himself, 
 and says, " Return to thy rest, O my soul." 
 
 4. Though a sincere Christian fall into sin and 
 commit evil, yet he proceeds not from evil to evil, as 
 the ungodly do, Jer. ix. 3. ; but makes his fall into one 
 sin a caution to prevent another sin. Peter by his 
 fall got establishment for the time to come. If God 
 will speak peace to them, they are careful to return 
 no more to folly : " In that ye sorrowed after a godly 
 sort, what carefulness it wrought ! yea, what fear !" 
 It is not so with the servants of sin. One sin leaves 
 them much moxe disposed to another sin. 
 
 5. A sincere Christian may be drawn into sin, but 
 yet he would be glad with all his heart to be rid of 
 sin. It would be more to him than thousands of 
 gold and silver, that he might grieve and offend God 
 
304 
 
 no more : and that shows sin is not in dominion over 
 him. He who is under the dominion of sin, is loath 
 to leave his lusts. Sin's servants are not willing to 
 part with it: they hold it fast, and refuse to let it go, 
 as that text expresses it, Jer. viii. 5. But the great 
 complaint of the upright is expressed by the apostle, 
 according to the true sense of their hearts, in Rom, 
 vii. 24. " Who shall deliver me from the body of this 
 death ?" 
 
 6. It appears that they yield not themselves will- 
 ingly to obey sin, inasmuch as it is the matter of 
 their joy when God orders any providence to prevent 
 sin in them. " Blessed be the Lord," said David 
 to Abigail, " and blessed be thy advice, and blessed 
 be thou that hast kept me this day from shedding 
 blood." Here is blessing upon blessing for a sin- 
 preventing providence. The Author is blessed, the 
 instrument blessed, the means blessed. O it is a 
 blessed thing, in the eyes of a sincere man, to be kept 
 from sin ! He reckons it a great deliverance, a very 
 happy escape, if he is kept from sin. 
 
 7, This shows that some who may be drawn to 
 commit sin are yet none of the servants of sin, that 
 they do heartily beg the assistance of grace to keep 
 them from sin : " Keep back thy servant from pre- 
 sumptuous sins," says the Psalmist : " let them not 
 have dominion over me ;" that is. Lord, I find pro- 
 pensities to sin in my nature, yea, and strong ones 
 too ; if thou leave me to myself, I am carried into 
 sin as easily as a feather is carried down the torrent. 
 O Lord, keep back thy servant. And there is no 
 petition that upright ones pour out their hearts to 
 God in, either more frequently or more ardently, than 
 in this, to be kept back from sin. 
 
305 
 
 8. This shows the soul not to be under the do- 
 minion of sin, that it does not only cry to God to be 
 kept back from sin, but uses the means of prevention 
 itself. It resists it, as well as prays against it : ** I 
 was also upright before him, and kept myself from 
 mine iniquity." So Job xxxi. 1. " I have made a 
 covenant with mine eyes ;" and yet more fully in Isa. 
 xxxiii. 15. " He shaketh his hands from holding 
 bribes, and stoppeth his ears from hearing blood, and 
 shutteth his eyes from seeing evil." See with what 
 care the portals are shut, at which sin is accustomed 
 to enter. 
 
 All these things are very relieving considerations 
 to poor souls questioning their integrity under the 
 frequent surprisals of sin. And the next trial is no 
 less so. 
 
 Sect. VIII. — Our opposition to, and conflicts 
 with sin, discover what we are : gold or dross. 
 
 There are conflicts with sin both in the regenerate 
 and in the unregenerate ; but there is a vast differ- 
 ence betwixt them, as will appear in the following 
 account : — 
 
 1. There is a universal, and there is a particular 
 opposition to sin. The former is found in regene- 
 rate, the latter in unregenerate souls. A gracious 
 heart hates every false way ; and must needs do so, 
 because it hates and opposes sin as sin ; so that it can 
 have no excepted or reserved lust, but fights against 
 the whole body, and every Hmb and member of the 
 body of sin. But it is not so with the hypocrite or 
 carnal professor. He has some reserved sin that he 
 cannot part with. 
 
 2. There is an opposition betwixt the new nature 
 
306 
 
 and siu, and there is an opposition betwixt a natural 
 conscience and sin ; the former is the case of an up- 
 right soul, the latter may be a self- deceiver. 
 
 A regenerate person opposes sin, because there is 
 an irreconcilable antipathy betwixt it and the new 
 nature in him, as is clear from Gal. v. 17. " The 
 flesh lusteth against the spirit, and the spirit against 
 the flesh : and these are contrary the one to the 
 other.'^ By flesh, we are to understand corrupt na- 
 ture ; by spirit, not only the spirit of man, but the 
 Spirit of God, or principle of regeneration in man* 
 By the lusting of these two against each other, we 
 are to understand the desire and endeavour of each 
 other's destruction and ruin ; and the ground of all 
 this is the contrariety of these two natures. These 
 are contrary one to the other. There is a twofold 
 opposition betwixt them : one formal, their very na- 
 tures are opposite; the other effective, their workings 
 and designs are opposite, as it is betwixt fire and 
 water. 
 
 But the opposition found in unrenewed souls against 
 sin, is not from their natures, for sin is suitable, 
 enough to that ; but from the light that is in their 
 minds and consciences, which scares and terrifies them. 
 Such was that in Darius : " He was sore displeased 
 with himself, and set his heart on Daniel to deliver 
 him ; and laboured till the going down of the sun to 
 deliver him." Here the contest was betwixt sense 
 of honour on one side, and conviction of conscience 
 on the other side. Sometimes a generous and noble 
 disposition opposes sordid and base actions. ** I am 
 greater, and born to greater things, than that I should: 
 be a slave to my body," said a brave heathen. 
 
307 
 
 3. There is a permanent, and there is a transient 
 opposition to sin. The former is the case of God's 
 people, the latter of temporary and unsound professors. 
 
 The saint, when he draws the sword in his war- 
 fare against sin, throws away the scabbard. No end 
 of this combat with sin till life end. His life and 
 his troubles are finished together : " I have fought 
 the good fight, and have finished my course." But 
 in other men it is but a transient quarrel; they are 
 out with sin one day, and in with it another : and the 
 reason is plain, by what was noted before — it is not 
 the opposition of two natures. It is like the opposi- 
 tion of the wind and tide ; these may be contrary, and 
 make a stormy sea to-day, but the wind may come 
 about, and go as the tide goes to-morrow. In a 
 Christian, it is the opposition of the river and the 
 dam : one must give way to the other ; there is no 
 reconciling them; but the other, "like the dog, re- 
 turns to his vomit." 
 
 4. There is an opposition to the root of sin, and 
 an opposition to the fruits of sin, A gracious soul 
 opposes root and fruit, but others the latter only. 
 The great design of an upright soul, is not only to 
 lop off this or that branch, but to kill the root of sin 
 which is in his nature : " Who shall deliver me 
 from the body of this death ?" But the great care 
 and endeavour of others is to suppress outward acts 
 of sin, and escape the mischievous consequences of it ; 
 yea, their study is, as Lactanius phrases it, " to hide, 
 rather than to kill their lusts." 
 
 5. There is an opposition to sin in the strength of 
 God, and an opposition to sin in our own strength. 
 The former is proper to real Christians, the latter, is 
 
308 
 
 found frequently with unsanctified persons. When 
 Christians go forth against any sin, it is in the strength 
 of God: so their rule directs them, " Be strong in the 
 Lord, and in the power of his might : take unto you 
 the whole armour of God." And you will accord- 
 ingly find them frequently upon their knees begging 
 strength from heaven against their lusts : " For this 
 cause I besought the Lord thrice," says Paul — that is, 
 often and earnestly, that the temptation might depart 
 from him. But others go forth against sin in the 
 strength of their own resolutions only. The reso- 
 lutions or vows which they have put themselves un- 
 der, are as frequently frustrated as made. 
 
 6. There is a successful opposition to sin, and an 
 opposition that comes to nothing. The former is 
 that of true Christians; the latter is found among 
 unregenerate men. 
 
 The work of mortification in the saints is progres- 
 sive and increasing. Hence we read, in Rom. vi. 6. 
 " Our old man is crucified with him, that the body 
 of sin might be destroyed." Sin dies in believers 
 much as crucified persons die, a slow, lingering, gra- 
 dual, but sure death. Its vigour and life expire by 
 degrees, or as a consumptive person dies ; for to that 
 also the apostle alludes here. There is a disease, 
 which is called a consumption of the whole ; and those 
 who die of that disease, languish more and more, till 
 at last they drop by imperceptible degrees into the 
 grave. But in the unregenerate, whatever conflicts 
 they may have with sin, no corruption falls before 
 them. It may be said of them, as the church in an- 
 other case complains of herself, " We have been in 
 pain ; we have, as it were, brought forth wind. We 
 
309 
 
 have not wrought any deliverance in the earth, neither 
 have the inhabitants of the world fallen.'* So it fares 
 with these professors. They pray, they hear, they 
 vow, they resolve ; but, when all is done, their lusts 
 are as strong and vigorous as ever : no degree of mor- 
 tification appears after all. — Thus much of the trial 
 of our sincerity by our carriage towards sin. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The proof, or trial, that is made of the soundness 
 of our graces by the duties of religion which we 
 perform. 
 
 Sect. I. — We now come, according to the me- 
 thod proposed, to make trial of the truth or falseness 
 of grace, by the duties we daily perform in religion. 
 And certainly they also have the use and efficacy of 
 fire for discovery. " He that saith, I know him, and 
 keepeth not his commandments, is a liar, and the 
 truth is not in him. But whoso keepeth his word, in 
 him verily is the love of God perfected : and hereby 
 know we that we are in him." This is a practical 
 lie of which the apostle speaks here ; a lie by which 
 men deceive others for a while, and themselves for 
 ever ; a lie not spoken, but done, when a man's course 
 of life contradicts his profession. The life of a hypo- 
 crite is but one longer or continued lie. He says or 
 professes that he knows God, but takes no care at all 
 to obey him in the duties he commands. He either 
 neglects them, or if he performs them, it is not as God 
 
310 
 
 requires. If he draws nigh unto him with his lips, 
 yet his heart is far from him : " Thou art near in their 
 mouth, but far from their reins." 
 
 There are some who feel the influence and power 
 of their communion with the Lord in duties, going 
 down into their very reins; and there are others 
 whose lips and tongues only are touched with religion. 
 This is an age of light and much profession. Men 
 cannot now keep up a reputation in the sober and 
 professing world, whilst they totally neglect the duties 
 of religion; but surely, if men would be but just to 
 themselves, their very performance of duty would telJ 
 them what their hearts are. 
 
 Sect. IL — There are, among others, these follow- 
 ing particulars, that very clearly distinguish the sound 
 from the unsound professor : — 
 
 1. The designs and real aims of men's hearts in 
 duty will tell them what they are. 
 
 A hypocrite aims low. " They have not cried 
 unto me with their heart, when they howled upon 
 their beds : they assemble themselves for corn and 
 wine, and they rebel against me." It is not for Christ 
 and pardon, for mortification and holiness, but for 
 corn and wine. Thus they make a market of religion. 
 All their ends in duty are either carnal, natural, or 
 legal; either to accomplish their carnal ends, or to 
 satisfy and quiet their consciences ; and so their duties 
 are performed as a sin-offering to God. 
 
 But an upright heart has very high and pure aims 
 in duty. The desire of their soul is to God, Isa. 
 xxvi. 8. Their soul follows hard after God. " One 
 thing have I desired of the Lord, that I will seek 
 after, that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all 
 
311 
 
 the days of my life, to see the beauty of the Lord, 
 and to inquire in his temple." These are the true 
 eagles that aim at the sun, and will not stoop to low 
 and earthly objects. Alas ! if the enjoyment of God 
 be missed in a duty, it is not the greatest enlarge- 
 ment of gifts that will satisfy. The Christian comes 
 back from it like a man who has taken a long journey 
 to meet his friend upon important business, and lost 
 his labour; his friend was not there. 
 
 2. The engagements of men's hearts to God in 
 duties, will tell them what they are. 
 
 Hypocrites take little heed to their hearts, Isa. 
 xxix. 13. They are not afflicted really for the hard- 
 ness, deadness, unbelief, and wanderings of their 
 hearts in duty, as upright ones are ; nor do they en- 
 gage their hearts, and labour to get them up with 
 God in duty, as his people do. " I have entreated 
 thy favour with my whole heart," says David. True 
 Christians are not pleased in duty until they feel 
 their hearts stand towards God, like a bow in its full 
 bent. I say not that it is always so with them— 
 what would they give that it might be so ? but, surely, 
 if their souls in duty are empty of God, they are 
 filled with trouble and sorrow. 
 
 3. The conscience that men make of secret, as 
 well as of public duties, will tell them what their 
 hearts and graces are, whether true or false. A vain 
 professor is curious in the former, and either negli- 
 gent, or, at best, formal in the latter ; for he finds 
 no inducements of honour, applause, or ostentation 
 of gifts, externally moving him to them ; nor has he 
 any experience of the sweetness and benefit of such 
 duties internally, to allure and engage his soul to 
 
them. The hypocrite therefore is not for the closet, 
 but the synagogue, Matt. vi. 5, 6. Not but that edu- 
 cation, example, or the impulse of conscience, may 
 sometimes drive him thither ; but it is not his daily de- 
 light to be there, his meat and drink to retire from the 
 clamour of the world, to enjoy God in secret. It is 
 the observation of their duties that is the great in- 
 ducement to these men to perform them ; and, 
 *' verily," says our Lord, " they have their reward;" 
 they have it away, or they have carried off all the bene- 
 fit and advantage that ever they shall have by reli- 
 gion. Much good may their applause and honour 
 do them ! Let them make much of that airy re- 
 ward, for it is all that ever they shall have. 
 
 But now, as for a soul truly gracious, it cannot 
 long subsist without secret prayer. It is true there 
 is not always an equal freedom and delight, a like 
 enlargement and comfort in its retirements, but yet it 
 cannot be without them ; it finds the want of secret in 
 its public duties. If the Christian and his God have 
 not met in secret, and had some communion in the 
 morning, he sensibly finds it in the deadness and un- 
 profitableness of his heart and life all the day after. 
 
 4. The spirituality of our duties tries the sincerity 
 of our graces. An unregenerate heart is carnal, 
 whilst engaged in duties that are spiritual. Some 
 men deceive themselves in thinking they are spiritual 
 men, because their employments and calling is about 
 spiritual things, Hosea ix. 7. This indeed gives 
 them the denomination, but not the frame of spiritual 
 men. And others judge themselves spiritual persons, 
 because they frequently perform and attend upon spiri- 
 tual duties. But, alas ! the heart and state may be 
 
313 
 
 carnal notwithstanding all this. O my friends, it is 
 not enough that the object of your duties is spiritual, 
 that they respect a holy God ; nor that the matter 
 is spiritual, that you are conversant about holy things; 
 but the frame of your heart must be spiritual ; a 
 heavenly temper of soul is necessary ; and what are 
 the most heavenly duties without it ? The end 
 and design you aim at must be spiritual, the enjoy- 
 ment of God, and a growing conformity to him in 
 holiness; else, multiply duties as the sand on the 
 sea-shore, and they all will not amount to one evi- 
 dence of your sincerity? " God is my witness, 
 whom I serve with my spirit," says the apostle. 
 He seems to appeal to God in this matter. I serve 
 God in my spirit, and God knows that I do so. I 
 dare appeal to him that it is so. He knows that my 
 heart is with him, or would be with him, in my 
 duties. The arms of my faith do either sensibly 
 grasp, or are stretched out towards him in my duties. 
 O how little favour do gracious hearts find in the 
 most excellent duties, if God and their souls do not 
 sensibly meet in them ! 
 
 Certainly, reader, there is a time when God 
 comes nigh to men in duty, when he deals familiarly 
 with men, and sensibly fills their souls with unusual 
 powers and delights. The near approaches of God 
 to their souls are felt by them, and now are their 
 minds abstracted and marvellously refined from all 
 that is material and earthly, and swallowed up in 
 spiritual excellencies and glories. These are the 
 real prelibations or foretastes of glory, which no man 
 can by words make another to understand, as he 
 himself does who feels them. These seasons, I con- 
 O 60 
 
314 
 
 less, do but rarely occur to the best of Christians, 
 nor continue long when they do. Alas ! this wine 
 is too strong for such weak bottles as we are. " Hold, 
 Lord," a holy man once said; "it is enough, thy 
 poor creature is a clay vessel, and can hold no more." 
 This is that joy unspeakable and full of glory, which 
 is mentioned in 1 Pet. i. 7, 8. ; something that words 
 cannot describe. These seasons are the golden spots 
 of our lives, when w^e are admitted to these near 
 and ineffable views and tastes of God. 
 
 Possibly some poor Christians can say but little 
 to these things. Their sorrows are exercised in 
 duties, more than their joys; they are endeavouring 
 to mount, but the stone hangs at the heel ; they es- 
 say, but cannot rise to that height that others do, 
 who are got up by their labouring faith into the up- 
 per region, and there display their wings, and sing 
 in the sun-beams. But though they cannot reach 
 this height, yet have they no satisfaction in duties 
 wherein there is no intercourse betwixt God and 
 their souls. That wliich contents another, will not 
 content a Christian. If the king be absent, men will 
 bow to the empty chair; but if God be absent, an 
 empty duty gives no satisfaction to a gracious spirit. 
 The poorest Christian is found panting after God by 
 sincere desires, and labouring to get up that dead and 
 vain heart to God in duty ; though, alas ! it is many 
 times but the rolling of the returning stone against 
 the hill : yet he never expects advantage by that duty 
 wherein the Spirit of God is not; nor does he expect 
 the Spirit of God to be where his own spirit is not. 
 5. Assiduity and constancy in the duties of reli- 
 gion make a notable discovery of the soundness or 
 
315 
 
 rottenness of men*s hearts. The hypocrite may 
 show some zeal and forwardness in duties for a time, 
 but he will become weary and give out at length. 
 " Will he delight himself in the Almighty? Will 
 he always call upon God ?" No, he will not. If his 
 motions in religion were natural, they would be con- 
 stant; but they are artificial, and he is moved by ex- 
 ternal inducements, and so must needs be off and on. 
 He prays himself weary of praying, and hears him- 
 self weary of hearing. His heart is not delighted in 
 his duties, and therefore his duties must needs grow 
 stale and dry to him after a while. There are 
 three seasons in which the zeal of a hypocrite may 
 be inflamed in duties: — 
 
 First, When some imminent danger threatens 
 him, some smart rod of God is shaken over him : 
 ^' When he slew them, then they sought him, and 
 returned and inquired early after God." O the 
 goodly words they give, the fair promises they make ! 
 aiid yet all the while " they do but flatter him with 
 their lips, and lie unto him with their tongues;" for 
 let but that danger pass over and the heavens clear 
 up again, and they will restrain prayer and return to 
 their old course again. 
 
 Secondly, When the times countenance and fa- 
 vour religion. O what zeal will he then have for 
 God ! So in the stony ground, Matth. xiii. 5. the 
 seed sprung up and flourished until the sun of perse- 
 cution arose, and then it faded away, for it had no 
 depth of earth, no deep solid inward work or prin- 
 ciple of grace to maintain it. 
 
 Thirdly, When self-ends and designs are accom- 
 modated and promoted by these things. This was 
 o 2 
 
316 
 
 the case of Jehu : " Come, see my zeal :" for what ? 
 For a base self-mterest, not for God. How fer- 
 vently will some men pray, preach, and profess, 
 whilst they sensibly feel the advantages and profits of 
 these duties to their flesh, whilst they are admired 
 and applauded ! These external incentives will put 
 a hypocrite into a hot fit of zeal ; but then, as it is 
 with a man whose colours are raised by the heat of 
 the fire and not by the healthfulness of good consti- 
 tution, it soon fades and fails again. 
 
 But, blessed be God, it is not so with all. The 
 man whose heart is upright with his God, will " keep 
 judgment and do righteousness at all times." Whe- 
 ther dangers threaten or not, whether the times fa- 
 vour religion or not, whether his earthly interest be 
 promoted by it or not, he will be holy still. He will 
 not part with his duties when they are stripped naked 
 of external advantages. As the addition of these 
 things to religion did not at first engage him, so the 
 subtraction of them cannot disenc^ao-e him. If his 
 duty become his reproach, yet Moses will not forsake 
 it, Heb. xi. 26. If he loses his company and is left 
 alone, yet Paul will not flinch from his duty, 2 Tim. 
 iv. 16. If hazard surrounds duty on every side, yet 
 Daniel will not quit it, Dan. vi. 10. They con- 
 sidered these things at first, and counted the cost ; 
 and the servants of God still find that religion is rich 
 enough to pay the cost of all that they can lose or 
 sufier for its sake ; yea, and that with a hundred-fold 
 reward now in this hfe. They never had any other 
 design in engaging in religious duties, but to help 
 them to heaven ; and if they recover heaven at last, 
 whether the way to it prove better or worse, they 
 
317 
 
 have their design and end ; and therefore thev ^vilI 
 be steadfast, " always abounding in the work of the 
 Lord, as knowing that their labour is not in vain in 
 the Lord." 
 
 6. The humility and self-denial of our hearts in 
 duties, will try what they are as to their integrity and 
 sincerity towards God. 
 
 Does a man boast in his own excellencies in 
 prayer, as the Pharisee did ? " God, I thank thee, 
 I am not as other men :" which he speaks not in an 
 humble acknowledgment of the grace of God which 
 distinguishes man from man, but in a proud ostenta- 
 tion of his own excellencies. Does a man make his 
 duties his saviours, and trust to them in a vain confi- 
 dence of their worth and dignity ? Surely " his heart, 
 which is thus lifted up within him, is not upright." 
 But if the heart be upright indeed, it will express its 
 humility as in all other things, so especially in its 
 duties wherein it approaches the great and holy God. 
 
 1st, It will manifest its humility in those awful 
 and reverential apprehensions it has of God, as Abra- 
 ham did : " And now, I, that am but dust and ashes," 
 says he, " have taken upon me to speak unto God." 
 The humility of Abraham's spirit is, in some mea- 
 sure, to be found in all Abraham's children. 
 
 2d, In those low arid vile thoughts which they 
 have of themselves and their religious performances. 
 Thus that poor penitent in Luke vii. 38. stood be- 
 hind Christ weeping. " Yet the dogs eat the 
 crumbs," said another. " I am more brutish than 
 any man," said a third. " I abhor myself in dust 
 and ashes," said a fourth. And as little esteem have 
 they for their performances: " All our righteous- ; 
 
318 
 
 nesses are as filthy rags." I deny not but that there 
 is pride and vanity in the most upright ones ; but 
 what place soever it finds in their converse with men, 
 it finds little room in their converse with God, or, if 
 it does, they loathe it, and themselves on account 
 of it. 
 
 3d, But their humility in duty is especially dis- 
 covered in renouncing all their duties in point of de- 
 pendence, and relying entirely upon Christ for right- 
 eousness and acceptance. They have special regard 
 to duties in point of obedience, but none at all in 
 point of reliance. 
 
 7. The communion and intercourse which is be- 
 twixt God and men in duties, discovers what their 
 persons and graces are. And it must needs do so, 
 because what communion soever the hypocrite has 
 with duties, or with saints in duties, he has surely 
 none with God. 
 
 None can come nigh to God in duty, but those 
 that are made nigh by reconciliation. All special 
 communion with God is founded in real union with 
 Christ ; but " the wicked are estranged from the 
 womb." But now there is real communion betwixt 
 God and his people in duties : " Truly our fellow- 
 ship, our communion, is with the Father and his 
 Son." God pours forth of his Spirit upon them, 
 and they pour forth their hearts to God. It is sen- 
 sibly manifested to them when the Lord comes nigh 
 to their souls in duty, and as sensible are they of his 
 retreats and withdrawments from their souls. Cant, 
 iii. 1, 4. They find their hearts open and shut ac- 
 cording to the accesses and recesses of the Divine 
 presence. They who never felt any thing of this 
 
319 
 
 nature may call it a fancy, but the Lord's people are 
 abundantly satisfied of the reality thereof. Their 
 very countenance is altered by it, 1 Sam. i. 18.; the 
 sad and cloudy countenance of Hannah cleared up, 
 there was fair weather in her face, as soon as she 
 knew that she had audience and acceptance with her 
 God. I know that all communion with God does 
 not consist in joys and comforts. There is a real 
 communion with God in the mortifying and hum- 
 bling influences of his Spirit upon men, as well as in 
 the cheering and refreshing influences thereof. I 
 know also that there is a great diversity in the de- 
 grees and measures thereof. It is not alike in all 
 Christians, nor with the same Christain at all times. 
 But that real Christians have true and real com- 
 munion with God in their duties, is a truth as 
 manifest in the spiritual sense and experience of 
 the saints, as their communion is one with another. 
 
 8. Growth and improvement of grace in duties 
 distinguishes the sound from the unsound heart. 
 
 All the duties in the world will never make a hy- 
 pocrite more holy, humble, or heavenly than he is ; 
 but will, as the watering of a dry stick, sooner rot it, 
 than make it flourishincp and fruitful. What was 
 Judas the better for all those heavenly sermons, 
 prayers, and discourses of Christ, which he heard? 
 And what will thy soul be the better for all the 
 duties thou performest weekly and daily, if thy heart 
 be unsound ? It is plain from Job xxv. 4. that there 
 must be an implantation into Christ, before there can 
 be an improvement in fruitful obedience. And it is 
 as plain from 1 John ii. 14. that the virtues of ordi- 
 nances must remain, the efficacy and power that we 
 
320 
 
 sometimes feel under them must abide and remain in 
 the heart afterwards, or we cannot grow and be made 
 fruitful by them. But the false professor is neither 
 rooted in Christ by union with him, nor does or can 
 retain the virtue of ordinances within him; but, like 
 one that views his face in a glass, quickly forgets what 
 manner of man he was. His head indeed may grow, 
 his knowledge may increase, but he has a dead and 
 withered heart. But as the saints have real com- 
 munion with God in duties, so they make improve- 
 ments answerable thereunto. There is most cer- 
 tainly a ripening of their graces, a changing or gradual 
 transformation from glory to glory, a springing up to 
 that full stature of the man in Christ : " They that 
 are planted in the house of the Lord, shall flourish 
 in the courts of our God." There is pure and sin- 
 cere milk in the breasts of ordinances. They grow 
 thereby; they grow^ more and more judicious, ex- 
 perienced, humble, mortified, and heavenly, by con- 
 versing with the Lord so frequently in his appoint- 
 ments. 
 
 There is, I confess, a more discernible growth 
 and ripening in some Christians than in others. 
 The faith of some groweth exceedingly, 2 Thess. i. 3.; 
 of others, more slowly, Heb. v. 12.; but yet there 
 are improvements of grace in all upright ones. Ha- 
 bits are more deeply radicated, or fruits of obedience 
 more increased. 
 
 Obj. If any upright soul be stumbled at this, as 
 not being able to discern the increase of his graces 
 after all his duties, 
 
 Sol, Let such consider that the growth of grace 
 is discerned as the growth of plants is ; we perceive 
 
321 
 
 them rather to have grown, than to grow. Compare 
 time past and present, and you may see a growth ; 
 but usually our eager desires after more, make us 
 overlook what we have as nothing. 
 
 9. The assistance and influences of the Spirit in 
 duties show us what we are. 
 
 No vital sanctifying influences can fall upon carnal 
 hearts in duties. The Spirit helps not their infirmi- 
 ties, nor makes intercession for them with groaniugs 
 which cannot be uttered, as he does for his own peo- 
 ple. They have his assistances in the way of common 
 gifts, but not in the way of special grace. He may 
 enable them to preach judiciously, not experimentally; 
 to pray orderly and neatly, not feelingly, believingly, 
 and broken-heartedly ; " for as many as are led by 
 the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God." He 
 never so assists but where he has first sanctified. 
 Carnal men furnish the materials of their duties out 
 of the strength of their parts : a strong memory, a 
 good invention, are the fountains whence they draw. 
 But it is otherwise with souls truly gracious. They 
 have ordinarily a threefold assistance from the Spirit 
 in reference to their duties. 
 
 First, Before duties, exciting them to it, making 
 them feel their need of it, like the call of an empty 
 stomach : " Thou saidst, seek my face ;" my heart 
 answered, " Thy face. Lord, will I seek." 
 
 Secondly, In their duties, furnishing both matter 
 and affection, as in that text lately cited, Rom. viii. 26. 
 guiding them not only what to ask, but hovv to ask. 
 
 Thirdly, After their duties, helping them not only 
 to suppress the pride and vanity of their spirits, but 
 o 3 
 
also to wait on God for the accomplishment of their 
 desires. 
 
 Now, though all these things, wherein the sincerity 
 of our hearts is tried in duties, are found in great 
 variety, as to degrees among saints; yet they are 
 mysteries unknown by experience to other men. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 On the trial of sincerity and hypocrisy by sufferings 
 on account of religion. 
 
 Sect. I. — We are now arrived at the last trial 
 of grace propounded; namely, by sufferings for reli- 
 gion. 
 
 Thousands of hypocrites embark themselves in the 
 profession of religion in a calm; but if the wind rises, 
 and the sea rages, and they see that religion will not 
 transport them safely to the cape of their earthly hopes 
 and expectations, they desire to be landed again as 
 soon as may be ; for they never intended to ride out 
 a storm for Christ. " He endureth for a while; but 
 when tribulation or persecution ariseth because of the 
 word, by and by he is offended." 
 
 But yet it is not every trial by sufferings that se- 
 parates gold from dross ; and therefore my business 
 will be to show, first, when the fire of sufferings and 
 persecutions is hot and vehement enough to separate 
 them ; secondly, why it must needs discover hypoc- 
 risy when it is at that height; and, thirdly, what 
 advantages sincere grace has to endure that severe 
 and sharp trial. 
 
3QS 
 
 Sect. II. — Now the fire of persecution, or suffer- 
 ings for religion, may be judged intense and high 
 enough to separate gold and dross,- — 
 
 1. When religion exposes us to imminent hazard 
 of our deepest and dearest interests in this world : 
 such are our liberties, estates, and lives. Then it is 
 a fierce and fiery trial indeed. Sometimes it exposes 
 the liberties of its professors : " The devil shall cast 
 some of you into prison." Sometimes their estates: 
 " Ye took joyfully the spoiling of your goods." And 
 sometimes their lives : " 1 hey were stoned, they 
 were sawn asunder, they were slain with the sword." 
 Whilst it goes no higher than some small incon- 
 veniencies of life, reputation and sense of honour 
 will hold a false heart; but when it comes to this, 
 few will be found able to endure it, but those who 
 expect to save no more by rehgion than their souls, 
 and account themselves in good case if they can but 
 save them with the loss of all that is dear to them in 
 this world. Here the false heart hesitates ; here it 
 usually jades and falters. 
 
 2. The fiery trial is then high, when there remains 
 no visible hopes of deliverance, or outward encou- 
 ragements to sense, that the scene will alter. When 
 " we see not our signs, there is no more any pro- 
 phet, nor any that can tell us how long," as the case 
 was with the church. Psalm Ixxiv. 9. then our hands 
 hang down and our hearts faint. Nor is it to be 
 wondered at, when the length of troubles prove so 
 sore a temptation even to the upright, to put forth 
 their hands even to iniquity. If such a temptation 
 shake such men as build on the rock, it must quite 
 overturn those whose foundation is but sand. 
 
3. When a false professor is engaged alone in 
 sufferings, and is singled out from the herd, as a deer 
 to be run down, it is a thousand to one but he quits 
 religion to save himself. Good company will en- 
 courage a faint-hearted traveller to jog on a great 
 way ; but if he is forsaken by all, as Paul was, with 
 no man to stand by him ; if left alone, as Elijah was; 
 what can encourage him to hold out? Indeed, if 
 false professors had the same visible supports these 
 good men had, that the Lord was with them, that 
 would keep them steady; but wanting that encou- 
 ragement from within, and all shrinking away from 
 without, they quickly tire. 
 
 4. When near relations and intimates oppose and 
 tempt us. The prophet speaks of a time " when 
 a man's enemies shall be the men of his own house;" 
 it may be the wife of his bosom. O what a trial is 
 that which Christ mentions in Luke xiv. 26. when 
 we must hate father and mother, wife and children, 
 or quit all claim to Christ and heaven ! This is 
 hard work indeed. How hard did that truly noble 
 and renowned Galeacius Carracciolus find this ! O 
 what a conflict found he in his bowels ! Now Christ 
 and our dearest interests come to meet like two men 
 upon a narrow bridge ; if one go forward, the other 
 must go back, and now the predominant interest can 
 no longer be concealed. 
 
 5. When powerful temptations are mixed with 
 cruel sufferings ; when we are strongly tempted, as 
 well as cruelly persecuted. This blows up the fire 
 to a vehement heif^ht. This was the trial of those 
 
 o 
 
 precious primitive believers: " They were stoned, 
 they were sawn asunder, they were tempted." Here 
 
825 
 
 was life, liberty, and preferment set on one hand, and 
 death, in the most formidable shape, on the other. 
 This cannot but be a great trial to any; but when a 
 cruel death and tender temper meet, then the trial 
 goes especially high indeed. 
 
 Sect. III. — And that such sufferings as these 
 will discover the falseness and rottenness of men's 
 hearts, cannot be doubted, if you consider, that this 
 is the fire designed by God for this very use and 
 purpose, to separate the gold from the dross. So 
 you will find it in 1 Pet. iv. 12. " Beloved, think 
 it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to 
 try you :" the very design and aim of Providence in 
 permitting and ordering them, is to try you. The 
 design of Satan is to destroy you, but God's design 
 is to try you. Upon this account, you find the hour 
 of persecution called " the hour of temptation, or 
 probation;" for then professors are sifted to the very 
 bran, searched to the very bottom. " This is the 
 day that burns as an oven, in which all the proud, 
 and all that do wickedly, shall be a$ stubble." 
 
 1. In that day the predominant interest must ap- 
 pear and be discovered ; it can be concealed no lon<^er. 
 " No man can serve two masters." A man may 
 serve many masters, if they all command the same 
 things, or things subordinate to each other; but he 
 cannot serve two masters, if their commands clash 
 and interfere with each other. And such are the 
 commands of Christ and the flesh in a suffering hour. 
 Christ says, " Be thou faithful to the death :" the 
 flesh says, Spare thyself, and secure the comforts 
 of life. Christ says, " He that loveth father or 
 mother, wife or children, lands or inheritance, more 
 
3^6 
 
 than me, is not worthy of me :'* the flesh says, He 
 that will grieve and break the heart of such dear re- 
 lations, and forsake, when he might keep, such earthly 
 accommodations, is not worthy of them. Thus the 
 two interests come in full opposition ; — and now have 
 but patience to wait a little, and you shall discern 
 which is predominant. A dog follows two men, 
 while they both walk one way, and you know not 
 which of the two is his master ; stay but a little, till 
 their path separates, and then you shall quickly see 
 who is the master. So is it in this case. 
 
 2. In that day sensible supports fail, and all a 
 man's relief comes in by the pure and immediate act- 
 ings of faith ; and were it not for those reliefs, his 
 heart would soon faint and die away under discourage- 
 ments. " We faint not, whilst we look not at the 
 things which are seen, for they are temporal ; but at 
 the things which are not seen, for they are eternal." 
 If we keep not our eye intently fixed upon the invi- 
 sible and eternal things in the coming world, we shall 
 feel ourselves fainting and dying away under the 
 many troubles and afflictions of this world. " I had 
 fainted," said holy David, " if I had not believed." 
 How then, suppose ye, shall the hypocrite live at 
 such a time, who has no faith to support him, no re- 
 lief but what comes in through the senses? 
 
 3. In that day all mere notions and speculations 
 about religion vanish, and nothing reheves and satis- 
 fies the suffering soul, but what it really believes, 
 and what it has satisfying proof and experience of in 
 itself. There are a great many pretty and pleasing 
 notions with which our minds are entertained. Some 
 delight in times of peace, which can do us no service 
 
3^7 
 
 at all in the day of trouble. And as for speculative 
 unpractical knowledge of the greatest truths in reli- 
 gion, as Httle service is to be expected from them. 
 Except we have better evidence and security about 
 them, we shall be loath to venture all upon the credit 
 of them. That is a very considerable passage to 
 this purpose in Heb. x. 34. " Ye took joyfully the 
 spoiling of your goods, knowing in yourselves that 
 ye have in heaven a better and more enduring sub- 
 stance." This " knowing in yourselves" is by in- 
 ward and sensible experience, taste, and feeling, which 
 is abundantly satisfying to the soul ; and stands op- 
 posed to all that traditional knowledge we receive 
 from others, which, as it leaves the mind fluctuating, 
 so it leaves the heart also dead and comfortless. 
 
 4. In that day the root and foundation of a man's 
 faith and hope is tried, and then they who have built 
 upon the sand must needs fail ; for every thing is as 
 its foundation. Principles are to us what a root is 
 to a tree, or a foundation to a house; a flaw or grand 
 defect there most assuredly ruins all. This we find 
 to be the very scope of the two famous parables in 
 Luke xiv. 25. and Matt. xiii. 21. Lesser troubles 
 shake but the branches, but these try the very root. 
 If nothing be found there but self-ends, the force of 
 education, and the influence of example — surely, when 
 the winds rise high and beat upon it, they will quickly 
 lay the loftiest professor even with the ground. 
 
 And thus you see what a crisis an hour of temp- 
 tation, the suffering hour, is, and what discoveries of 
 hypocrisy it must needs make; for now the hypocrite, 
 like Orpah, will forsake religion ; but sincerity will 
 make the soul cleave to it, as Ruth did to Naomi. 
 
328 
 
 Sect. IV. — What advantages sincerity gives the 
 soul for its establishment and perseverance in suffer- 
 ing times, I shall briefly account for in the following 
 particulars : — 
 
 1. Sincere godliness dethrones that idol, the love 
 of this world, in all true Christians ; and this is that 
 which makes men shrink from Christ in a day of suf- 
 fering. I do not deny but that even believers them- 
 selves love the world too much ; but they love it not 
 as their chief good ; it is not their portion or happi- 
 ness : " If any man so love the world, the love of 
 the Father is not in him." How much soever a sin- 
 cere Christian loves the world, yet still it is in subor- 
 dination to the love of God, John xxi, 1 5. Sincerity 
 can consist with no other love of the world : it wiU 
 not suffer such a cursed plant to grow under its 
 shadow. 
 
 Now, what is it, but this inordinate, supreme love 
 of the creature, that makes men forsake Christ in 
 time of temptation ? This was the ruin of that 
 young man in Matt. xix. 22. " He went away sor- 
 rowful, for he had great possessions." This was the 
 overthrow of Demas : " He hath forsaken me," says 
 the apostle, " having loved this present world." 
 The love of this world, like sap in green wood, will 
 not suffer you to burn for Christ : get but the heart 
 mortified to the creature, by a discovery of better 
 things in heaven, and it will establish and fix your 
 spirit, so that it shall not be in the power of creatures 
 to shake you off from Christ your foundation. 
 
 2. Sincerity knits the soul to Christ, and union 
 with him secures us in the greatest trials. The 
 hypocrite having no union with Christ, can have no 
 
329 
 
 communion with him, nor communications of grace 
 from him ; and so that little stock of his own being 
 quickly spent, I mean natural courage and resolu- 
 tion, and no incomes from Christ, he must needs 
 give up in a short time. But it is with a believer in 
 a day of trouble, as it is with a garrison besieged by 
 land, but free and open to the sea, whence fresh sup- 
 plies are daily sent in to relieve it. See 2 Cor. i. 5. 
 " As the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so our 
 consolation also aboundeth by Christ ;" we have fresh 
 aids and daily supplies, proportionable to our ex- 
 penses and decays of strength. So Col. i. 11. 
 " Strengthened with all might in the inner man, ac- 
 cording to his glorious power, unto all patience and 
 long-suffering with joyfulness." And this is the be- 
 liever's great advantage by his Buion with Christ in 
 a day of trial. 
 
 3. As sincerity unites the soul to Christ, so it sets 
 the heart on heaven and things eternal. Surely no- 
 thing is more conducive to our stability than this in 
 the hour of temptation. This is the most effectual 
 preservative from temptations upon the right hand 
 and upon the left. Moses could cast a kingdom at 
 his heels, despise the riches, pleasures, and honours 
 of Egypt, whilst his eye was fixed upon Him that is 
 invisible, and had respect to the recompense of reward. 
 And it was a brave reply of the forty martyrs to Valence 
 the emperor, tempting them with the preferments and 
 honours of the world — " Why offer ye these trifles 
 to us, when you know how the whole world is con- 
 temned by us ?" And as for temptations on the 
 left hand, how little can they move that soul who 
 realizes the glory of the approaching world, and sees 
 
330 
 
 the afflictions and sufferings of this world preparing 
 him for, and hastening him to, the enjoyment of it ! 
 Temptations meet with but cold entertainment from 
 such souls. 
 
 4. Sincerity drives but one design, and that is to 
 please and enjoy God ; and what can more establish 
 and fix the soul in the hour of temptation than this? 
 The reason why the hypocrite is unstable in all his 
 ways, is given us by the apostle : he is '' a double- 
 minded man," a man of two souls in one body ; as a 
 profane wretch once boasted, that he had one soul for 
 God, and another for any thing. But all the de- 
 signs of a gracious heart are united in one ; and so 
 the entire stream of his affections runs strong. 
 
 It is base by-ends and self-interests, that, like a 
 great many ditches cut out of the bank of a river, 
 draw away the stream out of its proper channel, and 
 make its waters fail. But if the heart be united for 
 God, as the expression is in Psalm Ixxxvi. 11. then 
 we may say of such a Christian, as was said of a 
 young Roman, " What he does is done with all his 
 might." A man of only one design, puts out all his 
 strength to carry it ; nothing can stand before him. 
 
 5. Sincerity brings a man's will into subjection to 
 the will of God ; and this being done, the greatest 
 danger and difficulty is over with such a man. This 
 is that holy oil which makes the wheels of the soul 
 run nimbly, even in the difficult paths of obedience. 
 Let but a man be once brought to that, *' The will 
 of the Lord be done," as it is in Acts xxi. 14. to see 
 the highest reason of cheerful obedience in the holy, 
 just, and good will of God, and then all the difficulty 
 is over ; he can suffer quietly what men inflict un- 
 justly. 
 
331 
 
 6. Sincerity takes its measures of present things 
 by the rules of faith and eternity. It goes not by 
 the same reckoning and account that others do, who 
 judge of things by sense, and the respects they have 
 to the present world : " We look not at the things 
 that are seen, but at the things that are not seen ;" 
 and this is given as the reason of the apostle's not 
 fainting under present difficulties. So in Rom. viii. 
 18. "I reckon that the sufferings of the present 
 times are not worthy to be compared with the glory 
 which shall be revealed in us." He will not allow 
 himself to undervalue eternal glory, by once mention- 
 ing present sufferings, in a way of bemoaning him- 
 self for them. A steady eye upon the other world 
 makes us more than conquerors over the troubles of 
 this world. 
 
 7. Sincerity alone has all the heavenly aids and 
 assistances to stability and perseverance in suffering 
 times. Upright ones, and such only, have Christ's 
 intercession in heaven for them, Rom. viii. 34. ; the 
 Spirit's consolation in all their troubles, 1 Pet. iv. 
 14.; the beneficial ministry of angels, who are sent 
 forth on their account, Heb. i. 14.; a stock of prayers 
 going up from them all the world over, Eph. vi. 18.; 
 multitudes of precious promises in the Scriptures, for 
 every line, word, and syllable of which the faithful- 
 ness of God stands engaged ; so that it is impossible 
 such gold can perish in the fire. 
 
 And thus of the several ways by which grace is 
 here tried. 
 
332 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The designs and ends of God in bringing the pro- 
 fessors of religion into such various trials of their 
 graces in this world. 
 
 Sect. I. — These are some of the ways and me- 
 thods in which God brings his gold to the touchstone 
 and to the fire, even in this world, before the awful 
 and solemn trial we must come to in the final judg- 
 ment ; and if we desire to be satisfied what the de- 
 sign or end of God in making such probations of his 
 people is, we must conclude, in the general, that he 
 certainly designs his own glory, and his people's ad- 
 vantage and profit by them. If he suffer them to 
 be tried by reproaches, " happy are they, the Spirit 
 of God and of glory resteth on them ;" there is their 
 profit : and though his name be evil-spoken of, yet 
 in the meekness of their spirits " he is glorified," as 
 it is in 1 Pet. iv. 14. " If the scourge slay suddenly, 
 he laugheth at the trial of the innocent :" not their 
 afflictions, but at the effects and blessed issues and 
 results of them; not that it gives them pain, but that 
 it gives them glory. On this account the apostle 
 bids us count it all joy, when we fall into manifold 
 temptations or trials; and still the more trials the 
 more joy; for thereby God will produce such effects 
 as are " more precious than gold that perisheth." O 
 who can value the comfort that is tasted by the soul 
 upon the trial and discovery of its sincerity, when, 
 after some sore temptation wherein God has helped 
 
333 
 
 us to maintain our integrity, or after some close 
 pinching affliction, wherein we have discovered in our- 
 selves a sweet resignation to, and contentment in, the 
 will of God, a heart cleaving to the Lord, purged 
 and made more spiritual under tlie rod, we can turn 
 to the Lord, and appeal to him, as the prophet did, 
 " But thou, O Lord, knowest me ; thou hast seen 
 me, and tried mine heart towards thee :" I say, who 
 can duly value such an advantage ? Who would ex- 
 change such a comfort for all the gold and silver in 
 the world ? How many trials soever God brings his 
 people under, neither his own glory nor their interest 
 shall suffer any damage by them. 
 
 Sect. IL — But more particularly let us bring 
 our thoughts close to the matter before us, and we 
 shall find many great advantages and benefits rising 
 out of these trials of sincerity. 
 
 I. Hereby hypocrisy is unmasked and discovered. 
 The vizard is plucked off from the false professor, 
 and his true natural face and complexion shown to the 
 world ; and in this there is a great deal of good. 
 
 Obj. Good ! you will say ; where lies it ? All 
 the world sees the mischief and sad effects of it ; 
 many are stumbled, many are hardened by it. Woe 
 to the world because of offences ! 
 
 Sol. True, some are prejudiced and hardened bv 
 it, so as never to have good thoughts of the ways and 
 people of God more ; and this is sad indeed. How- 
 ever, herein God accomplishes his word, and executes 
 his decree ; and though these perish, yet others are 
 warned, awakened, and set to search their own hearts 
 more narrowly than ever ; and this is good : " Now 
 these were our examples; wherefore let him that 
 thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall." 
 
334 
 
 Hereby also sin is ashamed ; and it is good when 
 sin, that has exposed men to so much shame, shall 
 be itself exposed to shame. This is the just reward 
 of sin : " This is thy lot, the portion of thy measures 
 from me, saith the Lord ; because thou hast forgot- 
 ten me, and trusted in falsehood. Therefore will I 
 discover thy skirts upon thy face, that thy shame may 
 appear." The turning up the skirt is a modest ex- 
 pression of exposing a person to the greatest shame 
 in the day of trial. God, by discovering hypocrisy, 
 shames the hypocrite ; and surely many such disco- 
 veries are made of men at this day. We may see 
 sin, that lurked close in the heart before, now laid 
 open before all Israel, and before the sun. 
 
 Hereby too the poor self-cozening hypocrite has the 
 greatest opportunity and advantage that ever was be- 
 fore him in all his life, to recover himself out of the 
 snare of the devil. Now all his pretences are gone ; 
 now that which like a shield was advanced against the 
 arrows of reproof and conviction is gone ; now the 
 poor creature stands naked and stripped out of all his 
 pleas, as a fair and open mark to the world and his 
 own conscience; and happy will it be for him, if now 
 the Lord make conviction to enter into his soul. All 
 these are blessed effects of the discovery of hypocrisy. 
 
 2. By these trials integrity is cleared up, and the 
 doubts and fears of many upright and holy ones al- 
 layed and quieted, resolved and satisfied. 
 
 O what would many a poor Christian give for sa- 
 tisfaction in this great point of sincerity ! How many 
 tears have been shed to God in secret on that ac- 
 count ! How many hours have been spent in 
 examination of his own heart about it ! And still. 
 
335 
 
 jealousies and fears hang upon his heart. He doubts 
 what he may prove at last. Well, says God, let his 
 sincerity then come to the test ; kindle the fire, and 
 cast in my gold. Trials are the highway to assu- 
 rance. Let my child see that he loves me more than 
 these ; that his heart is upright with me. I will try 
 him by prosperity and adversity, by persecutions and 
 temptations, and he shall see that his heart is better 
 than he suspects it to be. This shall be the day of 
 resolution to his fears and doubts. 
 
 The apostle, speaking of heresies, 1 Cor, xi. 19. 
 puts a necessity upon them : " There must be here- 
 sies, that they which are approved may be made ma- 
 nifest." The same necessity there is, and for the 
 same end, of all other trials of grace, that the lovely, 
 beautiful, sweet face of sincerity may be opened 
 sometimes to the world, to enamour them ; and to 
 the soul in which it is, to satisfy it that it does not 
 personate a Christian, but lives the very life of a 
 Christian, and has the very spirit and principles of a 
 Christian in it. 
 
 3. By these trials pride and self-confidence are 
 destroyed and mortified in the saints, as much as by 
 any thing in the world. 
 
 We never see what poor weak creatures we are, 
 until we come to the trial. It is said, in Deut. viii. 2. 
 that God led Israel through the desert, " to prove 
 them and to humble them." When we are proved, 
 then we are humbled. Those who over-reckon 
 their graces before the trial, see they must come to 
 another account, and take new measures of them- 
 selves after they have been upon trial. Ah ! little 
 did I think, says one, that I had so much love for 
 
836 
 
 the world and so little for God, until afflictions tried 
 it. I could not have believed that ever the creature 
 had got so deep into my heart, until Providence 
 either threatened or made a separation, and then I 
 found it. I thought I had been rich in faith, until 
 such a danger befell me, or such a want began to 
 pinch hard, and then I saw how unable I was to 
 trust God for protection or provision. O it is a 
 good thing that our hearts be kept humble and lowly, 
 how rich soever they be in grace ! 
 
 4. By trials, grace is kept in exercise, and the 
 gracious soul preserved from security and spiritual 
 sloth fulness. 
 
 Trials are to grace what the tides and continual 
 agitations of the waters are to the sea, or what the 
 racking of wine from the lees is to it. Were it not 
 for our frequent trials and exercises, we should quickly 
 settle upon the lees, and our duties would be, as God 
 complains of Ephraim, Hos. iv. 18. like sour or dead 
 drink, flat and spiritless. " Moab hath been at ease 
 from his youth, and hath settled on his lees, and hath 
 not been emptied from vessel to vessel ; neither hath 
 he gone into captivity ; therefore his taste remained 
 in him, and his scent is not changed.'' Much after 
 this rate it would be with our hearts, did not the 
 Lord frequently try and exercise them. Let the 
 best man be without some trial or other but a few 
 months, and you may find the want of it in his 
 prayers and conferences quickly. O what formality 
 will be found in them ! And is it for the honour of 
 God, or profit of his people, that it should be so ? 
 No, the Lord knows it is not ; but how shall their 
 spirits be brought to their former zealous, heavenly 
 
337 
 
 temper again ? Why, says the Lord, they must be 
 put into the furnace again ; " I will melt them and 
 try them ; for how shall I do for the daughter of my 
 people ?" I love them too well to lose them for want 
 of a rod. Alas ! if I should suffer thino-s to so on 
 at this rate, what will become of them in a little time ? 
 What delight can I take in their duties, when the 
 faith, fervour, humility, and holy seriousness of their 
 spirits are wanting in them ? I will therefore " re- 
 fine them as silver is refined, and try them as gold is 
 tried, and they shall call upon my name, and I will 
 hear them ; and I will say. It is my people ; and they 
 shall say. The Lord is my God," And thus the 
 Lord chides himself friend again with his people : 
 thus he recovers them to their true temper ; and thus 
 his visitations preserve their spirits. And when the 
 Lord sees these sweet effects of his trial upon them, 
 it greatly pleases him. O now, says God, I like it. 
 This providence has done them good; this rod was 
 well bestowed ; the letting loose of this temptation or 
 that corruption upon them has made them find their 
 knees again. Now I hear the voice of my child 
 again. 
 
 Beloved, this is a blessed fruit and effect of our 
 frequent trials ; and how ungrateful soever they are 
 to flesh and blood, which desired ease, and is loath 
 to be disturbed, yet they are necessary to the preser- 
 vation of our spirits. 
 
 6. By the trial of our graces Satan is defeated, 
 and his accusations of the saints found to be mere 
 slanders. 
 
 It is a very common thing with the devil and 
 wicked men, to accuse the people of God of hypo- 
 P 60 
 
338 
 
 crisy, and to tell the world they are not the men and 
 women they are taken to be ; and that if their inside 
 were but turned out by some thorough trial or deep 
 search, it would appear that religion did not indeed 
 live in their souls, as they pretend, but that they only 
 act a part, and personate heavenly and mortified per- 
 sons upon the public stage of profession. Thus the 
 accuser of the brethren suggests the hypocrisy of Job : 
 " Put forth thine hand now, and touch his bone and 
 his flesh, and he will curse thee to thy face." Well 
 miffht Job serve thee whilst thou hast been so bounti- 
 ful a master to him ; he hath been well rewarded for 
 all the service he hath done thee ; but if thou stop 
 the current of his prosperity, thou shalt see how 
 quickly he will stop the course of his duty ; a few 
 lashes from thy hand will make him curse thee to thy 
 face. But O what shame and disappointment was it 
 to that envious spirit, what a vindication of Job's in- 
 / tegrity when, under the greatest trials of his faith and 
 patience, he still held fast his integrity, and showed 
 himself as great a pattern of patience under the cross, 
 as he had been of piety in the days of his greatest 
 prosperity ! Satan gets nothing by bringing forth 
 the saints upon the stage, to be made a spectacle to 
 angels and men, 1 Cor. iv. 9. 
 
 6. The frequent trials of grace exhibit a full and 
 living testimony against the atheism of the world. 
 
 These prove beyond all words or arguments that 
 religion is no fancy, but the greatest reality in the 
 world. Men would make religion but a fancy, and 
 the zeal of its professors but the intemperate heat of 
 some crazy brains, over-heated with a fond notion. 
 They who never felt the real influences of religion 
 
339 
 
 upon their own souls, will not believe that others feel 
 thera. Serious piety is become a ludicrous subject, 
 with which the wanton wits of this atheistical world 
 sport themselves. But behold the wisdom and good- 
 ness of God, exhibiting to the world undeniable tes- 
 timonies of the truth of religion, as often as the sin- 
 cere professors thereof are brought to the test by 
 afflictions from the hand of God, or persecution from 
 the hands of men. Lo ! " here is the faith and pa- 
 tience of the saints ;" here is their courage, meekness, 
 and self-denial, shining as gold in the fire. They 
 have the real proofs of it before their eyes. Instead 
 of casting them into hell, and convincing them by 
 eternal fire, he is pleased to cast his own people into 
 the fire of affliction, that they who scoff at them may 
 be convinced at an easier and cheaper rate. It is no 
 new thing to see the enemies of religion brought over 
 to embrace it, by the constancy and faithfulness of 
 the saints in their trials and sufferings for it. God 
 grant that the atheism of this present generation do 
 not occasion a more fiery trial to the people of God 
 in it, than they have yet suffered ! 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Showing that that grace only is to reckoned sincere 
 and real, which can efidure those trials which God 
 appoints or permits Jbr the discovery of it. 
 
 Sect. I. — Before I offer you the proofs and evi- 
 dences of this truth, it will be necessary to prevent 
 p2 
 
340 
 
 some mistakes that may be occasioned by misunder- 
 standing it. 
 
 Caution 1. And, in the first place, we are not to 
 think assurance of our sincerity impossible to be had 
 in this life, because as long as we live here we are in 
 a state of trial ; and how many trials soever have been 
 made upon us already, yet still there are more to 
 come ; and we know not what we shall prove in fu- 
 ture trials, though God has kept us upright in former 
 trials. No, this is none of my meaning ; nor does 
 such a conclusion necessarily follow this assertion; 
 for a Christian who has rightly closed with Christ at 
 first, and been faithful in the duties of active and 
 passive obedience hitherto, may be assured, on good 
 grounds, of a victory before he come to the fire of 
 his remaining trials. So was the Apostle : " Who 
 shall separate us from the love of Christ ? shall tri- 
 bulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or 
 nakedness, or peril, or sword ? Nay, in all these we 
 are more than conquerors, through him that hath 
 loved us." Here is an assured triumph before the 
 combat. So Job xxiii. 10. " But he knoweth the 
 way that I take : when he hath tried me, I shall 
 come forth as gold." He appeals to God for the 
 sincerity of his heart so far as he had hitherto gone 
 in the way of religion ; and thence concludes, that 
 whatever trials God should bring him to, in time to 
 come, he should " come forth as gold," that is, he 
 should not lose one grain by the fire. And this con- 
 fidence of a gracious soul is built not only upon ex- 
 perience gained in former trials, but upon faith in 
 the power, promises, and faithfulness of God, which 
 are engaged for hira in the covenant of grace, to keep 
 
341 
 
 him in the greatest dangers that befal him in this 
 world. He believes that the power of God is able 
 to make him stand, though he has no power nor 
 might in himself to overcome the least temptation : 
 " You are kept," as in a garrison, " by the power 
 of God through faith unto salvation." When Christ 
 has once taken possession of the soul by his Spirit, 
 he fortifies it by his power, as in a garrison ; that, 
 using the means, it may be surprised or betrayed no 
 more into the enemy's hand, so as finally to be lost. 
 
 He builds this confidence also upon the promises 
 of God, which are his security in future dangers. 
 And how are all the pages of the Bible bespangled 
 with such promises, as the firmament is with bright 
 and glorious stars ! Such are these of the first 
 magnitude: " Christ shall confirm you to the end, 
 that you may be blameless in the day of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ. God is faithful, by whom ye are 
 called into the fellowship of his Son Jesus Christ 
 our Lord." And no less satisfying and sweet is that 
 in Jer. xxxii. 40. " And I will make an everlasting 
 covenant with them, that I will not turn away from 
 them to do them good ; but I will put my fear in 
 their hearts, that they shall not depart from me." 
 And of the same nature is that also in John x. 27, 
 28. " My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, 
 and they follow me, and I give unto them eternal 
 life ; and they shall never perish, neither shall any 
 man pluck them out of my hand." If there be any 
 hypocrite in sheep's clothing, he has no part nor lot 
 in this promise; but it secures the whole flock of 
 Christ, great and small, against all danger. 
 
 He builds his assurance also upon the faithfulness 
 
342 
 
 of God, which stands engaged to make good every 
 line, word, and syllable of his promises to his people. 
 So we find in 1 Cor. x. 13. " There hath no temp- 
 tation taken you, but such as is common to man ; but 
 God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted 
 above that ye are able ; but will with the temptation 
 also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to 
 bear it :" and in 2 Thess. iii. 3. " But the Lord is 
 faithful, who shall establish you, and keep you from 
 evil." 
 
 Add to this the constant prevalent intercession of 
 Christ in heaven for his people, in all their trials; 
 and you will see that a sincere Christian needs not 
 to deny himself the joy and comfort of his assurance, 
 upon the account and supposition of his future trials. 
 
 Sect. II. — Caution 2, Nor do we here suppose 
 in this assertion, that inherent grace in the saints has 
 a sufficiency of ability in itself to endure the greatest 
 and severest trials that can befal it in this world. 
 It is certain that it shall be carried safely through all, 
 but not in its own strength and ability. 
 
 This is a true observation of the learned Gerson, 
 " The most perfect creature left to itself will fall 
 into ruin." This was exemplified in the angels that 
 fell, and in Adam, though in a perfect state. Divine 
 preservation is the prop which supports the best crea- 
 tures from ruin. Grace itself is but a creature, and 
 therefore a dependent being. It is but a stream, 
 depending upon the supply of the fountain. If the 
 fountain let not forth itself, what becomes of the 
 stream? That is a true and judicious observation 
 of the learned Dr. Ames, " The perseverance of be- 
 lievers, or the immutability of their condition, if we 
 
343 
 
 view the whole ground and reason of it, is not wholly 
 from within or wholly from without itself; but partly 
 from the nature of the spiritual life which flows from 
 Christ unto them, and partly from the keeping, pro- 
 tection, and direction of God." That protection is 
 always afforded to this life of grace ; and this life of 
 grace always needs that protection. The best of 
 men are but men at best. It was not Peter's grace 
 and resolution that kept him, but Christ's care of 
 him and intercession for him: " Be strong in the 
 Lord," says the apostle, " and in the power of his 
 might." ." Without me," says Christ, " ye can do 
 nothing." 
 
 Neither of these is that which I have before me 
 to prove ; but this is that which I aim at, that such 
 seeming grace as was never yet brought to the trial, 
 nor will be able to bear the trial when God shall 
 bring it thereto, must not pass for current as too fre- 
 quently it does among us. Such grace will neither 
 comfort us now nor save us hereafter. 
 
 Sect. III. — First, Great numbers of persons in 
 the professing world are deceived and destroyed by 
 trusting to seeming and untried grace. 
 
 This was the miserable condition of those Laodi- 
 cean professors in the text : they reckoned themselves 
 rich, but were really poor. All is not gold that glit- 
 ters. Their supposed gold was never tried in the 
 fire. If a man's whole estate lay in some precious 
 stone, suppose a rich diamond, how is he concerned 
 to have it thoroughly tried, to see whether it will 
 bear a smart stroke with a hammer, or fly like a 
 Bristol diamond under it ! All that you are worth 
 lies in the truth and sincerity of your grace ; and till 
 
344 
 
 that be tried, you know not whether you are worth 
 any thing or nothing. 
 
 Reader, there are two sad sights in the world, 
 which cannot but deeply affect every upright heart : 
 one is, to see so many thousands of rational and in- 
 genuous men in the Romish church, by an implicit 
 faith in their guides, venturing their souls upon their 
 bare word ; never searching the Scriptures with their 
 own eyes, but wholly trusting to the infallibility of a 
 pope or a council; when, in the mean time, they 
 would fear to take their word for a sum of money, 
 without some further security. It is amazing to be- 
 hold the soul- destroying, easy credulity of those men; 
 but this is a stroke of madness and spiritual infatua- 
 tion judicially inflicted upon them, that the judgment 
 which is written might be fulfilled in them, " God 
 shall send them strong delusion, that they should be- 
 lieve a lie," And yet more amazing is that stroke 
 of God upon multitudes of vain and formal professors 
 even in the reformed Protestant churches, where no 
 man is restrained from searching the Scriptures ; nay, 
 where men are so frequently and earnestly pressed, 
 from Sabbath to Sabbath, to examine themselves and 
 prove their own work, that yet so many are content 
 to leave all at hazard, and, without any more ado or 
 farther search in the matter, credit the report of their 
 own deceitful hearts, and take all for granted, with- 
 out due trial or examination of the matter. Surely, 
 no one thing sends down more souls daily to hell out 
 of the professing world, than this does. The five 
 foolish virgins, the unprincipled professors in the re- 
 formed churches, perished this way. They took it 
 for granted that all was well, because they had lamps 
 
345 
 
 of profession as well as others ; and saw not the cheat 
 till the cry was heard at midnight, and their unfur- 
 nished lamps went out, Matt. xxv. 
 
 2. The promises of salvation are made to tried 
 grace, and such only as will endure the trial. Thus, 
 *' Blessed is the man that endureth temptation ; for 
 when he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life, 
 which God hath promised to them that love him." 
 We must be first tried, and then crowned. *' If a 
 man strive for the mastery, yet is he not crowned, 
 except he strive lawfully." The apostle manifestly 
 alludes to the Roman games, to v*^hich there were 
 judges appointed to see that no foul play was offered 
 contrary to the laws of wrestling ; and where it was 
 found, the crown was denied them. Not to him that 
 sets forth in the morning with resolution and gallan- 
 try, but to him that holds out till the evening of his 
 life, is the promise made : " He that endureth to the 
 end shall be saved." So Rom. ii. 7. *' To them who 
 by patient continuance in well-doing seek for glory, 
 and honour, and immortality, eternal life." And 
 once more : *' We are made partakers of Christ, if 
 we hold the beginning of our confidence steadfast 
 unto the end." So that if you should endure some 
 few slighter troubles, and faint at last, give out when 
 a closer trial befals you, all your labours and suffer- 
 ings are in vain. Sincerity and final perseverance 
 are the conditions of all special promises. 
 
 3. Every man's graces and duties must be tried 
 and weighed by God in the great day ; and if they 
 cannot endure these lesser trials to which God ex- 
 poses them now, how will they endure that severe 
 and exact trial to which he will bring them then? 
 
 p3 
 
346 
 
 No man can search his own heart with that exactness 
 in this world, as that with which God will search it 
 in the world to come. I may say in this case to you, 
 as the Lord spake to Jeremiah : " If thou hast run 
 with the footmen, and they have wearied thee, then 
 how canst thou contend with horses ? And if in the 
 land of peace, wherein thou trustedst, they have 
 wearied thee, then how wilt thou do in the swelling 
 of Jordan ?" This was spoken to encourage the 
 prophet to constancy in his work : as if the Lord had 
 said, O Jeremy, do the strivings of the men of Ana- 
 thoth, thine own town, dishearten thee ? Pluck up 
 thy spirits, and faint not. There are harder trials 
 than these that thou must undergo at Jerusalem. 
 These are no more to what is coming, than the run- 
 ning with footmen is to the contending with horses, 
 or the passing a small rivulet to the swellings of Jor- 
 dan. To apply this : — if our graces and duties can- 
 not bear these lighter trials ; if a little lift of prospe- 
 rity, or lighter stroke of adversity, discover so much 
 falseness, rottenness, pride, and selfishness in the 
 heart ; if we cannot resist the motions of corruption, 
 but yield ourselves to obey sin in the lusts of it ; if 
 we can neither keep our hearts with God in duties, 
 nor mourn for our wanderings from him ; if a few 
 scoffs from wicked tongues, or trials of persecution 
 from the hands of men, will cause us to faint in the 
 way, and turn back from following the Lord, what 
 shall we do when he comes whose "fan is in his hand, 
 and who will thoroughly purge his floor," who will 
 try every man's work as by fire, search the secrets of 
 all hearts ? Surely we can take little comfort in 
 that which is so unable to bear the severe trials of 
 
347 
 
 that clay, that it cannot stand before the slighter trials 
 of this day. 
 
 4. True grace is willing to be tried, and nothing 
 is more desirable to an upright soul, than to know its 
 own condition. If, therefore, we shun the trial, and 
 are loath to search ourselves, or be searched by the 
 Lord, our condition is suspicious, and we can take 
 little comfort in it. It was David's earnest desire 
 that God would thoroughly search his heart and 
 reins, and see if there were any way of wickedness 
 in him, Psal. cxxxix. 23. False grace is shy of 
 God's eye ; it cares not to be examined ; but this is 
 the delight of sincere ones : " Every one that doeth 
 evil hateth the light, lest his deeds should be re- 
 proved ; but he that doeth truth, cometh to the light, 
 that his deeds may be made manifest, that they are 
 wrought in God." The reason is plain why hypo- 
 crisy cannot endure to come to the touchstone and 
 test ; for hypocrites, having a secret consciousness of 
 their own guilt and unsoundness, know that by this 
 means their vain confidence would quickly be con- 
 futed, and all their reputation for religion blasted. 
 But O if men dare not stand before the word, as it 
 is now opened and applied by ministers, how will they 
 stand when it shall be opened and applied in another 
 manner by Jesus Christ ? 
 
 O professor, if thy condition be good, thy heart 
 right, thou wilt desire to know the very worst of it 
 thyself; and when thou hast made the deepest search 
 thou canst, thou wilt still fear thou hast not been 
 severe enough and impartial enough to thyself. No- 
 thing will give thee more content than when thou 
 feelest the word dividing thy soul and spirit, thy 
 
348 
 
 joints and marrow. Nothing so much comforts thee 
 under or after an affliction, as the discovery it has 
 made of thy heart. Thou wilt seem to feel with 
 what affection those words came from the prophet's 
 lips : " But thou, O Lord, knowest me ; thou hast 
 seen me, and tried mine heart toward thee." O what 
 a refreshing sweetness will stream through thy heart, 
 and all the powers of thy soul, when thou canst make 
 the like appeal to God with like sincerity ! And cer- 
 tainly, without such a disposition of spirit towards 
 the trial of our graces, we can have little evidence of 
 the truth of them. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Various practical instructive Inferences^ mth a 
 serious Exhortation to Self-trial and thorough 
 Examination, 
 
 Sect. I. — Infer, 1. Are there such variety of trials 
 appointed to examine the sincerity of men's graces ? 
 How great a vanity then is hypocrisy ! and to how 
 little purpose do men endeavour to conceal and hide 
 it ! We say. Murder will out ; and we may as confi- 
 dently affirm. Hypocrisy will out. When Rebekah 
 had laid the plot to disguise her son Jacob, and, by per- 
 sonating his brother, to get the blessing, Jacob thus 
 objects against it : " My father peradventure will feel 
 me, and I shall seem to him as a deceiver; and I 
 shall bring a curse upon me, and not a blessing." 
 As if he should say, But what if my father detect 
 
849 
 
 the cheat ? How then shall I look him in the face ? 
 How shall I escape a curse ? After the same man- 
 ner every upright soul scares itself from the way of 
 hypocrisy. If I dissemble, and pretend to be what I 
 am not, my Father will find me out. There is no 
 darkness nor shadow of death that can conceal the 
 hypocrite ; but out it will come at last, let him use 
 all the art he can to hide it. Oftentimes God dis- 
 covers him by the trials he appoints in this world ; 
 and men in that day shall " return, and discern be- 
 tween the righteous and the wicked; between him 
 that serveth God, and him that serveth him not." 
 But if he make a hard shift to get by a private way 
 to hell, carrying this comfort with him to the last 
 step, that nobody knows or thinks he is gone thither; 
 yet there will be a day when God will strip him naked 
 before the great assembly of angels and men, and all 
 shall point at him, and say, " Lo ! this is the man 
 that made not God his hope." This is he that wore 
 a garment of profession to deceive ; but God has now 
 stript him out of it, and all men see what he is: 
 " for there is nothing covered, that shall not be re- 
 vealed ; and hid, that shall not be known." And the 
 apostle assures us, in 1 Tim. v. 25. that " they that 
 are otherwise cannot be hid." If men's works be not 
 good, it is impossible they should be hid long. A 
 gilded piece of brass may pass from hand to hand a 
 little while, but the touchstone will discover the base 
 metal ; and if that does not, the fire will. 
 
 O sinners, away with your hypocrisy ! Be honest, 
 sincere, plain, and hearty in religion. If not, con- 
 fusion of face shall be your recompense from the 
 Lord. That is what you will get by it. 
 
350 
 
 Infer, 2, Are there such trials appointed and per- 
 mitted by the Lord for the discovery of his people's 
 sincerity in this world? Then let none of God's 
 people expect a quiet station in this world. Cer- 
 tainly you will meet with no rest here. You must 
 pass out of one fire into another. And it is a merci- 
 ful condescension of the Lord to poor creatures thus to 
 concern himself for their safety and benefit. " What 
 is man, that thou shouldst magnify him ? and that 
 thou shouldst set thine heart upon him? and that 
 thou shouldst visit him every morning, and try him 
 every moment ?" O it is a great deal of honour put 
 upon a poor worm, when God will every moment try 
 him and visit him ! It argues the great esteem the 
 goldsmith has of his gold, when he will sit by the 
 furnace himself, and order the fire with his own hand ; 
 when he pries so often and so curiously into the fining- 
 pot, to see that none of the precious metal upon which 
 he has set his heart be lost. 
 
 Think it not then debasing to you to be so often 
 exposed to trials. If God did not value you highly, 
 he would not try you so frequently. What would 
 become of you, if your condition here should be more 
 settled and quiet than now it is ? I believe you find 
 dross enough in your hearts after all the fires into 
 which God has cast you. Surely there is filth enough 
 in the best of God's people, to require all the trouble 
 they have yet met with, and perhaps a great deal 
 more. We fancy it a brave life to live at ease ; and, 
 if we meet with longer respites and intervals of trial 
 than usual, we are apt to say, " We shall never be 
 moved ;" or, " We shall die in our nest," as it is 
 in Job xxix. 18.; our hard and difficult days are 
 
351 
 
 over ; but woe to us if God should give us the desire 
 of our hearts in this ! See what is the temper of 
 those men's spirits who meet with no changes : " Be- 
 cause they have no changes, therefore they fear not 
 God.'* O it is better to be preserved sweet in brine, 
 than to rot in honey ! 
 
 Infer, 3. Let none boast in a carnal confidence of 
 their own strength and stability. You are in a state 
 of trial. Hitherto God has kept you upright in all 
 your trials. Bless God, but boast not. You are but 
 feathers in the wind of temptation, if God leave you 
 to yourselves. Peter told Christ — and doubtless he 
 spoke no more than he honestly meant — " Though 
 I should die with thee, yet will I not deny thee ;" 
 and you know what he did when the hour of his trial 
 came. Angels left to themselves have fallen. It is 
 better to be an humble worm than a proud angeL 
 
 Ah ! how many hypocrites will this professing age 
 show, if once God bring us to the fiery trial ! " Let 
 him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall." 
 " Ye have not yet resisted unto blood, striving against 
 sin. None stand upon firmer ground than those who 
 see nothing in themselves to stand upon. He who 
 leans upon his own arm, usually benumbs it, and makes 
 it useless. 
 
 Infer, 4. Does God kindle so many fires in Sion, 
 and set his furnaces in Jerusalem, to discover and 
 separate the dross from the gold ? How contrary 
 are those men to God, that allow, yea, and prize the 
 dross of hypocrisy which God hates, and stick not to 
 make the holy God a patronizer and countenancer of 
 it in the hearts and lives of men ! 
 
 It is amazing to read what popish pens have im- 
 
852 
 
 pudently written about this matter. Sylvester puts 
 the question, " Whether it be a sin to make a false 
 show of sanctity ?" — and answers it thus : " If it be 
 for the honour of God, and profit of others, it is no 
 sin ?" Nay, they have a reverence for hypocrisy, as 
 a holy art. Vicentius spends a whole chapter in 
 commendation of the hypocrisy of St. Dominio, and 
 entitles it, " Of the holy hypocrisy of that saint ;" 
 reckoning it among his commendations, that he had 
 the art of dissembling. And another goes still farther. 
 '' A religious person," says he, " who feigns himself 
 to have more holiness than he has, that others may 
 be edified, sins not, but rather merits." Blush, O 
 heavens, that ever such factors for hell should open 
 and vend such ware as this in the public market, and 
 invite the world to hypocrisy, as that which makes for 
 the glory of God, the edification of men, and a work 
 meritorious in the hypocrite himself. This is the 
 doctrine of devils indeed ! 
 
 Infer. 5. If it be so that all grace must come to 
 the test, and be tried as gold in the fire, even in this 
 world, how are all men concerned to lay a solid foun- 
 dation at first, and thoroughly deliberate the terms 
 upon which they close with Christ, and engage in the 
 profession of his name ! 
 
 " Which of you," says Christ, " intending to build 
 a tower, sitteth not down first, and counteth the cost ?" 
 If some men had sat down at first, and pondered the 
 conditions and terms of Christ, they had not sat down 
 now discouraged, and tired in the way. The Apostle 
 Paul went to work at another rate. He accounted 
 all but dung and dross for Christ, and was of the same 
 mind when the actual trial came ; for then he tells us, 
 
553 
 
 that " he counted not his life dear unto him." And 
 the Apostle Peter admonishes believers " not to think 
 it strange concerning the fiery trial which was to try 
 them." Let none of these things be surprisals to 
 you ; you are told before-hand what ye must trust to : 
 every Christian must be a martyr, at least in the dis- 
 position and resolution of his heart. 
 
 O that men would balance the advantages and dis- 
 advantages of religion, and thoroughly ponder the 
 matter in their deepest thoughts ! To the test you 
 must come. The rain will fall, and the storm beat 
 upon your buildings. Look carefully therefore to 
 the foundations. 
 
 Infer, 6. Learn from this point the unavoidable- 
 ness of scandals and offences in the way of religion ; 
 for if there be a necessity of trial, there is also a ne- 
 cessity of scandal. " It must needs be that offences 
 come." Why must it needs be? The reason is 
 evident : all must come to the trial, and all are not 
 able to bear it. Our Lord tells us, Matt. xxiv. 
 8 — 10. of a day of great straits and perplexity com- 
 ing; " And then," says he, " shall many be of- 
 fended." The day of trial is the day of scandal. 
 By these offences some are put to search themselves, 
 and some begin censuring all others; but the holy 
 God brings about his end both ways, in them that 
 are saved and in them that perish. 
 
 Sect. IL — Well then, if it be so that all must go 
 into the furnace, let every man try his own work. 
 Examine yourselves, professors ; search your hearts, 
 commune with your reins. Nothing more concerns 
 you in all the world than this does. O that you 
 would be more in your closets, and oftener upon 
 
354 
 
 your knees ! O that you would look into the Bible, 
 then into your hearts, and then to God, saying with 
 David, " Search me, O God, and know my heart ; 
 try me and know my thoughts, and see if there be 
 any wicked way in me !'* Never did religion thrive 
 in the world since men's heads have been so over- 
 heated with notions and controversies, and their 
 hearts so sensibly cooled in their closet-work. I 
 have elsewhere, in my ' Saint Indeed,' more largely 
 pressed this duty upon the professors of this genera- 
 tion, and thither shall refer the reader for the pre- 
 sent, to see the necessity and importance of this work. 
 Here I shall only urge the duty of self-trial by some 
 pressing motives and awakening considerations. 
 
 Motive 1. And the first shall be the exceeding 
 difficulty of this work. 
 
 Difficulty in some cases may be a discouragement; 
 but where the matter is of absolute necessity, as it is 
 here, nothing excites more to diligence. " Strive," 
 says our Lord, " to enter in at the strait gate ; for 
 many will seek to enter in, and shall not be able." 
 A double difficulty is found attending this work of 
 self-trial. Difficulty in bringing the heart to it, and 
 difficulty in the right and successful management of 
 it. Who finds it not hard to persuade his heart to 
 such work as this ! Nature declines it, flesh and 
 blood relish it not. It is one of the greatest severi- 
 ties in religion. It is no easy thing to bring a man 
 and his own heart together. It is in this case as in 
 the study of geography : we are more inquisitive to 
 know, and more delighted when we discover, the 
 rarities of foreign countries and strange things in the 
 remote parts of the world, than we ar^ with those of 
 
355 
 
 our own native country. I fear there are many pro- 
 fessors of religion who can spend day after„ day in 
 hearing, and love to be disputing fruitless controver- 
 sies, who never spend one day in searching what in- 
 fluence all those sermons they have heard have had 
 upon their hearts, or in rightly stating and determin- 
 ing that great controversy, in whose right and pos- 
 session their souls are, and which way they shall go 
 as soon as God has divided them from their mortal 
 bodies ; yea, I doubt, many sinful hours are spent in 
 prying into, reporting, and censuring the failings of 
 others, and not one hour faithfully employed in judg- 
 ing their own hearts before the Lord. Oh ! men 
 had rather be about any work than this. There is 
 no pleasure in it to the flesh. 
 
 And yet how difficult soever it be to bring our 
 hearts to the work, it is certainly much more difficult 
 to manage it successfully, and bring the great ques- 
 tion of our sincerity to a clear result and issue. O 
 how many upright hearts have applied closely to this 
 work many a year, and lifted up many a cry to Hea- 
 ven, and shed many secret and undissembled tears 
 about it, and yet are still in the dark, and their minds 
 greatly perplexed, and filled with fear about it ! 
 What would they not do, what would they not suffer, 
 what pleasant enjoyment would they not gladly part 
 with, to arrive at the desire of their souls, the full 
 assurance of their sincerity ? It was the saying of 
 a pious woman, " I have borne seven children, and 
 they have cost me as dear as ever children cost a mo- 
 ther; yet would I be content to endure all that sor- 
 row over again, to be assured of the love of God to 
 my soul." 
 
^356 
 
 ' Motive 2. And as the work is full of difficulty, 
 so the discovery of your sincerity will be full of 
 sweetness and joy unspeakable. It will never repent 
 you that you have prayed and mourned, that you 
 have trembled and feared, that you have searched 
 and tried; nay, it will never repent you, that God 
 has tried you by thousands of sharp afflictions and 
 deep sufferings, if, after all, your sincerity may be 
 fully cleared up to the satisfaction of your souls : for 
 in the same day in which your sincerity shall be 
 cleared, your title to Christ will be made as clear to 
 your souls as your sincerity is. You may then go 
 to the promises boldly, and take your own Christ 
 into the arms of your faith, and say, " My beloved 
 is mine, and I am his !" Yea, you may be con- 
 fident, that it shall be well with you in the judgment 
 of the great day, for " God will not cast away the 
 upright man." If the word clears you now, it can- 
 not condemn you then. 
 
 O what an ease it is to the soul, when the fears 
 and doubts that hang about it, are gone ! when a 
 man sees what he is, and what he has in Christ and 
 the promises ! what he has to do, even to spend the 
 time betwixt this and heaven in admiring the grace 
 of God that has delivered him from the ruining mis- 
 takes and miscarriages, by which so great a part of 
 the professing world are lost to all eternity ! 
 
 Motive 3. The deep concernment of your souls 
 in the matter to be tried, should awaken you to the 
 utmost diligence about it. 
 
 The trials of men for their life, at human bars, is 
 but a trifle to this. It is your eternal happiness that 
 stands or falls with your sincerity. It is said in the 
 
357 
 
 trial of opinions, that if a man build hay or stubble 
 upon the foundation, he shall suffer loss ; yet he him- 
 self may be saved. But if hypocrisy be in the foun- 
 dation, there is no such relief; there is no possibility 
 of salvation in that case. 
 
 Ah, reader ! thou must be cast for ever according 
 to the integrity or hypocrisy of thy heart with God, 
 Summon in, then, all the powers of thy soul : bring 
 thy thoughts, as closely as it is possible to bring 
 them, to this matter. If there be any subject of 
 consideration able to drink up the spirits of a man, 
 here it is. Never was time put up to a higher im- 
 provement, never were thoughts spent upon a more 
 important business, than this is. Happy is the man 
 who rescues the years, months, days, yea, the very 
 moments of his life from other employments to con- 
 secrate them to this solemn, awful, and most impor- 
 tant business ! 
 
 Motive 4. How evidential will it be of your sin- 
 cerity, when you are willing to come to the trial of 
 your own hearts ! 
 
 Suppose your doubts and fears should in some de- 
 gree remain with you, yet in this you may take some 
 comfort, that if hypocrisy be in your heart, it is not 
 there by consent. You are not loath to rise and come 
 to trial, because, like Rachel, you sit upon your idols. 
 Certainly it is a good sign that thy heart is right, 
 when it is filled with so much fear lest it should be 
 false. You know all the disciples said, " Master, is 
 it I ?" before Judas, who was the traitor, spake a 
 word. " Last of all, Judas said. Is it I ?" Our 
 wilhngness to be tried is a good sign that the desire 
 of our soul is to be right with God. 
 
358 
 
 Motive 5. Conclude it to be your great advan- 
 tage to be thoroughly tried, whatever you may be 
 found to be in the trial. 
 
 If you are found sincere, you are richly rewarded 
 for all your pains and labour. Never did that man 
 repent of digging and toiling, who, after all, hit upon 
 the rich vein that he digged for. What is a 
 vein of gold to a vein of sincerity ? If upon search 
 you find the contrary, a false, hypocritical, unsound 
 heart, yet in that very sad discovery you meet with 
 the greatest advantage that ever you had in your lives 
 for salvation. This discovery is your great advan- 
 tage ; for now your vain confidence being overturned, 
 and your ungrounded hopes destroyed, you lie open 
 to the stroke of a deep and effectual conviction of your 
 sin and misery, which is the introductive mercy to all 
 the other mercies to your souls ; and surely till you 
 come to that, to give up your false hopes and quit 
 your vain pretensions, there is no hope of you. 
 Christ told the Pharisees, that publicans and harlots 
 would into enter the kingdom of heaven before them. 
 Publicans were the worst sort of men, and harlots 
 the worst sort of women, and yet they stood in a fairer 
 way for heaven than the hypocritical Pharisees, be- 
 cause conviction had easier access to their consciences: 
 they had not those defences and pleas of duty and 
 strictness to ward off the word that the self-cozening 
 Pharisees had. 
 
 I may say, of your vain and groundless hopes, as 
 Christ, in another sense, said to the officers that came 
 to seize him in the garden, " If you seek me, let 
 these go their way." So it is here ; if you expect 
 Christ and salvation by him, let your vain confidences 
 
359 
 
 go their way. Away with your masks and vizards, 
 if ever you expect to see Christ. O it is your hap- 
 piness to have all these things stript off and your 
 nakedness and poverty discovered, that you may be 
 rich, as the text speaks. 
 
 Motive 6. Consider how near the day of death 
 and judgment approaches you. 
 
 these are searching days wherein you cannot 
 be hid. Will your consciences, think you, be put 
 off in a dying day as easily as they are now ? No, 
 you know they will not. 
 
 1 have heard of a good man that consumed not 
 only the greatest part of the day, but a very con- 
 siderable part of the night also in prayer, to the great 
 weakening of his body ; and being asked by a rela- 
 tion why he did so, and urged to favour himself, 
 he returned this answer, " Oh I must die ! I must 
 die !" plainly intimating, that so great is the concern- 
 ment of dying in a clear assured condition, that it is 
 richly worth the expense of all our time and strength 
 to secure it. 
 
 You know also that after death is the judgment. 
 You are hastening to the judgment of the great and 
 terrible God. Death will put you into his balance 
 to be weighed exactly ; and what can give the soul a 
 louder call to search itself with all diligence, whilst 
 it stands at the door of eternity, and its turn is not 
 yet come to go before that awful tribunal ? O that 
 these considerations may have force upon our hearts ! 
 
360 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Various helps for the clearing of Sincerity, and dis^ 
 covery of Hypocrisy, 
 
 Sect. L — You see of what importance the duty of 
 self-examination is, and how many things put a ne- 
 cessity and a solemnity upon that work. Now, in 
 the close of all, I would offer you some helps for the 
 due management thereof, that is, as far as I can carry 
 it. The Lord persuade your hearts to the diligent 
 and faithful application and use of them. The gen- 
 eral rules to clear sincerity are these that follow : — 
 
 "Rule 1. We must not presently conclude that we 
 are in the state of hypocrisy, because we find some 
 workings of it, and tendencies to it, in our spirits. 
 The best gold has some dross and alloy in it. Hy- 
 pocrisy is a weed naturally springing in all ground : 
 the best heart is not perfectly clear or free of it. It 
 may be that we are stumbled, when wr* feel some 
 workings of this disease in ourselves, and looking into 
 such Scriptures as these : " Behold an Israelite in- 
 deed, in whom is no guile." — " Blessed is the man 
 unto whom the Lord imputeth not iniquity, and in 
 whose spirit there is no guile." This, I say, may 
 stumble some upright soul, not understanding in what 
 a qualified sense these Scriptures are to be under- 
 stood ; for by a spirit without guile, is not to be un- 
 derstood a person absolutely free from all deceitful- 
 ness and falseness of heart. This was the sole pre- 
 rogative of the Lord Jesus, who was separated from 
 
361 
 
 sinners, in whose mouth was no guile found, in whom 
 the prince of this world, in all his trials and attempts 
 upon him, found nothing : but we must understand it 
 of reigning and allowed hypocrisy. There is no such 
 guile as this in any of the saints. Distinguish the 
 presence from the predominance of hypocrisy, and the 
 doubt is resolved. 
 
 Rule 2. Every true ground of humiliation for sin 
 IS not a sufficient ground for doubting and question- 
 ing our state and condition. 
 
 There are many more things to humble us upon 
 the account of our infirmity, than there are to stumble 
 us upon the account of our integrity. It is the sin 
 and affliction of some good souls to call their condi- 
 tion in question upon every slip and failing in the 
 course of their obedience. This is the way to debar 
 ourselves from all the peace and comfort of the Chris- 
 tian life. We find that Joseph was once minded to 
 put away Mary his espoused wife, not knowing that 
 the holy thing which was conceived in her was by the 
 Holy Ghost. It is the sin of hypocrites to take brass 
 for gold, and the folly of saints to call their gold brass. 
 Be as severe to yourselves as you will, provided al- 
 ways you be just. " There is that maketh himself 
 rich, yet hath nothing; there is that maketh himself 
 poor, yet hath great riches." Hiram called the cities 
 ^olomon gave him, Cabul, that is. Dirty, for they 
 pleased him not, 1 Kings ix. 13. It is but an ill re- 
 quital, an ungrateful return to God for the best of 
 mercies, to undervalue them in our hearts, and be 
 ready upon all occasions to put them away as wortli 
 nothing. 
 
 Rule 3. A stronger propension in our nature, and 
 Q 60 
 
362 
 
 more frequent incidence in our practice, to one sin 
 than another, do not presently infer our hypocrisy, 
 and the unsoundness of our hearts in religion. It is 
 true, every hypocrite has some way of wickedness; 
 some iniquity that he delights in, and rolls as a sweet 
 morsel under his tongue; some lust that he is not 
 vvilling to part with, nor can endure that the knife 
 af mortification should touch ; and this undoubtedly 
 argues the insincerity and rottenness of his heart. 
 And it is true also that the nature and constitution 
 of the miOst sanctified man inclines him rather to 
 one sin than to another, though he allow himself in 
 none; yea, though he set himself more watchfully 
 against that sin than any other, yet he may still have 
 more trouble and vexation, more temptation and de- 
 filement from it, than from any other. As " every 
 man has his proper gift, one after this manner, and 
 another after that,". as the apostle speaks, so every 
 man has his proper sin also, one after this manner, 
 and another after that. For it is with original sin 
 as it is with the juice or sap of the earth, which, though 
 it is the common matter of all kinds of fruit, yet it is 
 specificated according to the different sorts of plants 
 and seeds which it nourishes ; in one it becomes an 
 apple, in another a cherry. Just so it is in original 
 corruption, which is turned into this or that tempta- 
 tion or sin, according to this or that constitution or 
 employment it finds us in. In one it is passion, 
 in another lust, in a third covetousness, in a fourth 
 levity, and so on. Now, I say, the frequent assaults 
 of this sin — provided we indulge it not, but, by set- 
 ting double guard, labour to keep ourselves from our 
 own iniquity, as David did, Psalm xviii. 23 — will 
 not infer the hypocrisy of our hearts. 
 
363 
 
 Rule 4. A greater backwardness and indisposcd- 
 ncss to one duty rather than another, does not con- 
 clude the heart to be unsound and false with God, 
 provided we do not inwardly dislike and disapprove 
 any duty of religion, or except against it in our agree- 
 ment with Christ, but that it riseth merely from the 
 present weakness and distemper we labour under. 
 
 There are some duties in religion, as suffering for 
 Christ, bearing sharp reproofs for sin, to which even 
 an upright man, under a present distemper, may find 
 a great deal of backwardness and loathness ; yet still 
 he consents to the law that it is good, is troubled that 
 he cannot comply more cheerfully with his duty, and 
 desires to stand complete in the will of God. Per- 
 fection is his aim, and imperfections are his sorrows. 
 
 Some Christians have much ado to bring their 
 hearts to fixed, solemn meditation ; their hearts fly 
 off from it ; but this is their burden, that it should be 
 so with them. True, it is a very dangerous sign of 
 hypocrisy, w^hen a man's zeal runs out in one channel 
 of obedience only, and he has not respect to all God's 
 commandments; as physicians observe, that the heat 
 of one part of the body, when all the rest is cold, is 
 symptomatical, and argues an ill habit: but whilst 
 the soul heartily approves all the will of God, and 
 sincerely desires to come up to it, and mourns for its 
 backwardness and deadness to this or that duty, and 
 this deadness is not fixed, but occasional, under some 
 present indisposition out of which the soul rises in the 
 same degrees as sanctification rises in him, and the 
 Lord comes in with renewed strength upon him ; this, 
 I say, may consist, and is very ordinarily found to be 
 the case of upright-hearted ones. 
 22 
 
364< 
 
 Rule 5. The glances of the eye at self-ends in 
 duties, whilst self is not the weight that moves the 
 wheels or the principal end and design we aim at, 
 and whilst those glances are corrected and mourned 
 for, do not conclude the heart to be unsound and hy- 
 pocritical in religion. 
 
 Even among the most deeply sanctified, few can 
 keep their eyes so steady and fixed with pure and 
 unmixed respects to the glory of God, but that there 
 will be, alas ! too frequently, some by-ends insinuat- 
 ing and creeping into the heart. These, like the 
 fowls, seize upon the sacrifice, let the soul take what 
 pains it can to drive them away. It is well that our 
 High Priest bears the iniquities of our holy things 
 for us. Peter had too much regard to the pleasing 
 of men, and did not walk with that uprightness to- 
 wards the Gentile Christians and the believing Jews, 
 in the matter of liberty, as became him ; for which, 
 as Paul said, he ought to be blamed, and he did 
 blame him; but yet such a failing as that in the end 
 of his duty did not condemn him. In public per- 
 formances there may be too much vanity, in works 
 of charity too much ostentation : these are all work- 
 ings of hypocrisy in us, and matters of humiliation 
 to us ; but whilst they are disallowed, corrected, and 
 mourned over, they are consistent with integrity. 
 
 Rule 6. The doubts and fears that hang upon 
 and perplex our spirits about the hypocrisy of our 
 hearts, do not conclude that therefore we are what 
 we fear ourselves to be. 
 
 God will not condemn every one for a hypocrite 
 that suspects, yea, or charges himself with hypocrisy. 
 Holy David thought his heart was not right with 
 
365 
 
 God, after that great slip of his in the matter of 
 Uriah; and therefore he begs of God to renew a 
 right spirit within him : his integrity was indeed 
 wounded, and, as he thought, destroyed by that fall. 
 Holy Mr. Bradford so vehemently doubted the sin- 
 cerity of his heart, that he subscribed some of his 
 letters, " John Bradford the hypocrite; a very painted 
 sepulchre :" and yet, in so saying, he utterly mis- 
 judged the state and temper of his own soul. 
 
 Sect. II. — Well then, let not the upright be 
 unjust to themselves in censuring their own hearts. 
 They are bad enough, but let us not make them 
 worse than they are, but thankfully own and acknow- 
 ledge the least degrees of grace and integrity in them; 
 and possibly our uprightness might be sooner dis- 
 covered to us, if, in a due composure of spirit, we 
 would sit down and attend to the true answers of our 
 own hearts to such questions as these are: — 
 
 Qiiest. 1. Do I make the approbation of God, or 
 the applause of men, the very end and main design 
 of my religious performances ? according to 1 Thess. 
 ii. 4. Col. iii. 23. Will the acceptance of my duties 
 with men satisfy me, whether God accept my duties 
 and person or not ? 
 
 Quest. 2. Is it the reproach and shame that at- 
 tends sin at present, and the danger and misery that 
 will follow it hereafter, that restrains me from the 
 commission of it ? or is it the fear of God in my soul, 
 and the hatred I bear to it as it is sin ? according to 
 Psalm xix. 12. and Psalm cxix. 113. 
 
 Quest. 3. Can I truly and heartily rejoice to see 
 God's work carried on in the world, and his glory 
 promoted, by other hands, though I have no share in 
 the credit and honour of it, as Paul did? Phil. i. 18. 
 
366 
 
 Quest. 4. Is there liO duty in religion so full of 
 difficulty and self-denial, but I desire to comply with 
 it ? And is all the holy and good will of God ac- 
 ceptable to my soul, though I cannot rise up with like 
 readiness to the performance of all duties? according 
 to that pattern in Psalm cxix. 6. 
 
 Qjiest, 5. Am I sincerely resolved to follow Christ 
 and holiness at all seasons, however the aspects of the 
 times may be towards religion ? or do I carry my- 
 self so warily and covertly as to shun all hazards for 
 religion, having a secret reserve in my heart to launch 
 out no further than I may return with safety, con- 
 trary to the practice and resolution of upright souls ? 
 Psalm cxvi. 3, 4. Psalm xliv. 18, 19. Rev. xxii. 14. 
 
 Quest. 6. Do I make no conscience of committing 
 secret sins, or neglecting secret duties ? or am I con- 
 scientious both in the one and the other ? according 
 to the rules and patterns of integrity in Matt. vi. 5, 
 6. Psalm xix. 12 — 14. 
 
 A few such questions solemnly propounded to our 
 own hearts in a calm and serious hour, would sound 
 them, and discover much of their sincerity towards 
 the Lord. 
 
 Sect. III. — And as upright hearts are too apt to 
 apply to themselves the threats and miseries of hypo- 
 crites, so hypocrites, on the contrary, are as apt to 
 catch hold of the promises and privileges pertaining 
 to believers. To detect therefore the soul- damning 
 mistakes of such deceived souls, O that these fol- 
 lowing rules might be studied, and faithfully applied 
 to their conviction and recovery ! 
 
 Ride 1. It is not enough to clear a man from 
 hypocrisy, that he knows not himself to be a hypo- 
 
367 
 
 crite. All hy})ocrites are not designing hypocrites ; 
 they deceive themselves as well as others : " Many 
 will say to me in that day, Lord, have we not pro- 
 phesied in thy name ?" Hell will be a surprisal to 
 multitudes of professors. A man may live and die 
 in a bhnd, ungrounded confidence of his safe condi- 
 tion, and not fear his ruin till he begins to feel it. 
 
 Rule 2. Zeal and forwardness in the cause of 
 God, and for the reformation of his worship, will not 
 clear a man from the danger of hypocrisy. Jehu was 
 a zealous reformer, and yet but a painted sepulchre. 
 In the year 1549, reformation grew so much in re- 
 putation, even among the nobles and gentry in Ger- 
 many, that many of them caused these five letters, 
 F, D, M. L JE. being the initial letters of these 
 words, " Verhum Domini manet in ceternum" that 
 is, " The word of the Lord abideth for ever," to be 
 wrought, or embroidered, or set in plates, some upon 
 their cloaks, and others upon the sleeves of their 
 garments ; to show to all the world, that, forsaking 
 all popish traditions, they would now cleave to the 
 pure doctrine and discipline of the eternal Word. 
 And no doubt they would have been as good as their 
 word, if what was embroidered on their cloaks had 
 been engraven on their hearts ; but, " Come, see my 
 zeal," mars all. 
 
 Rule 3. It is no sufficient evidence of a man*s 
 own integrity, that he hates hypocrisy in another ; 
 for, as one proud man may hate another, and he who 
 is covetous himself will be apt to censure another for 
 being so ; as lusts may be contrary to one another, 
 as well as all of them contrary to grace; so may a 
 hypocrite loathe that in another, which yet he allows 
 
368 
 
 in himself: nay, it is the poHcy of some to declaim 
 against the hypocrisy of others, thereby to hide their 
 own. Hypocrites are none of the most modest cen- 
 surers of others, Psalm xxxv. 16. A salt jest sea- 
 soneth their meat. 
 
 Rule 4. The mere performance of private duties 
 will not clear a man from hypocrisy. The influence 
 of education, or support of reputation, or the impulse 
 of a convinced conscience, may induce a man to it ; 
 and yet all this while his heart may not be carried 
 thither with hungry and thirsty desires after God. 
 It is not the matter of any duty that distinguishes 
 the sound and unsound professor ; but the motives, 
 designs, and ends of the soul in them. 
 
 Rule 5. The character you have among Christians 
 for sincerity, will not be sufficient to clear you from the 
 danger of hypocrisy. Christ tells the angel of Sar- 
 dis, " Thou hast a name that thou livest, and art 
 dead." The fall of Hymeneus and Philetus could 
 never have shaken the faith of the saints as it did, 
 had they not had great credit in the church, and been 
 men of renown for piety among them. 
 
 Rule 6. Your respects and love to them that arf; 
 the sincere and upright servants of God, will not 
 clear you from the danger of being hypocrites your- 
 selves ; for the bare loving of a Christian is not evi- 
 dential of a man's own Christianity, except he love 
 him, as he is a Christian, or as he belongs to Christ; 
 and so his sincerity becomes the attractive of your af- 
 fection. There are a thousand by-considerations and 
 respects that may kindle a man's love to the saints, 
 besides their integrity. 
 
 Sect. IV. — Well then, if thou wouldst indeed see 
 
369 
 
 the unsoundness of thy own heart, propound such 
 heart-sounding questions as these to thyself: — 
 
 Quest, 1. .Do I engage ray heart to approach unto 
 God in the course of my duties ? or do I go the 
 round of duties, taking no heed to my heart in them ? 
 If so, compare this symptom of thy hypocrisy with 
 that in 2 Kings x. 31. and that in Ezek. xx. 31, 32. 
 
 Quest. 2. Am I not swayed and moved by self- 
 interest and carnal respects in the ways of religion, 
 the accommodation of some worldly interest, or the 
 getting a name and reputation of godliness ? If so, 
 how apparently do the same symptoms of hypocrisy 
 appear upon my soul, which did upon Judas, John 
 xii, 6. ; and on Jehu, 2 Kings x. 15, 16. 
 
 Quest. 3. Have I not some secret reserves in my 
 heart, notwithstanding that face and appearance of 
 zeal which I put on ? Certainly, if there be any sin 
 that I cannot part with, any suffering for Christ 
 which I resolve against in my heart, I am not his 
 disciple ; my heart is not right with God, the 
 Searcher of hearts himself being a Judge. 
 
 Quest, 4f, What conscience do I make of secret 
 sins ? Do I mourn for a vain heart, wandering 
 thoughts, spiritual deadness ? And do I conscien- 
 tiously abstain from the practice of secret sins, when 
 there is no danger of discovery, no fear of forfeiting 
 my reputation by them ? Is it God's eye, or man's, 
 that awes me from the commission of sin ? Cer- 
 tainly, if I allow myself in secret sins, I am not of 
 the number of God's upright people, whose spirits 
 are of a contrary temper to mine. Psalm cxix. 113, ; 
 Psalm cxii. 1, 2. 
 
 Sect. V. — I will shut up all with five or six con- 
 83 
 
370 
 
 eluding counsels (which the Lord impress upon the 
 heart of him that writes, and those that shall read 
 them !) to preserve and antidote the soul against the 
 dangerous insinuation and leaven of hypocrisy. 
 
 Counsel 1. Entreat the Lord, night and day, for 
 a renewed and right spirit. All the helps and direc- 
 tions in the world will not antidote and preserve you 
 from hypocrisy : nothing will be found able to keep 
 you right, till sanctification has first set you right : 
 " I will put my Spirit within you ; and cause you to 
 walk in my statutes." A bowl may keep by a strait 
 line, so long as the impressed force of the hand that 
 delivered it remains strong upon it ; but as that wears 
 off, so its motion fails, and its own bias sways and 
 turns it. A fright of conscience, a pang of warm af- 
 fection, or the influence of some great example, or a 
 good education, may affect an unrenewed soul, and 
 push it on in the way of salvation for a season ; but 
 the heart, so influenced, must and will return to its 
 own natural course again. And I think there wants 
 nothing but time or a suitable temptation, to discover 
 the true temper of many a professor's spirit. Pray, 
 therefore, as that holy man did in Psalm cxix. 80. 
 " Let my heart be sound in thy statutes, that I be 
 not ashamed." 
 
 Counsel 2. Always suspect and examine your 
 ends in what you do. Sincerity and hypocrisy lie 
 much in your ends and designs; as they are, so are 
 you. The intentions of the heart lie deep. A man 
 may do the same action to a holy end, and his person 
 and service be accepted with God; which another 
 doing for a corrupt end, it may be reckoned his sin, 
 and both his person and service be abhorred by the 
 
371 
 
 Lord. We find two men riding in one chariot, and 
 both of them concerned in the same expedition, Jehu 
 the son of Nimshi, and Jonadab the son of Kcchab, 
 2 Kings X. 15, 23.; but though the work they en- 
 gaged in was one and the same, yet the different 
 ends they aimed at made the same action an excel- 
 lent duty in Jonadab, and an act of vile hypocrisy 
 in Jehu. It was the saying of a good man, when 
 commended for a good action, " The work indeed is 
 good, but I suspect the motive of it. Self-ends are 
 creeping and insinuating things into the best actions." 
 
 Counsel 3. Stir up yourselves with the daily fears 
 of the sin that is in hypocrisy, and the misery that 
 will follow it. Look upon it as the most odious sin 
 in the eyes of God and men. To want holiness is 
 bad enough, but to dissimulate and pretend it when 
 ve have it not, is double impiety. To make religion, 
 the most glorious thing in the world, a mere stirrup 
 to preferment, and a covert to wickedness, O how 
 vile a thing is this ! God made Christ a sacrifice 
 for sin, and the hypocrite will make him a cloak for 
 sin. 
 
 And as to the punishments that follow it, they 
 are suitable to the nature of the sin; for as hypocrisy 
 is out of measure sinful, so the reward and punish- 
 ment of it will be out of measure dreadful. . " He 
 shall cut him asunder, and appoint him his portion 
 with hypocrites ; there shall be weeping and gnashing 
 of teeth," Matt. xxiv. 5L 
 
 Counsel 4. Be daily at work in the mortification 
 of those lusts that breed hypocrisy. It is plain, 
 without much sifting, that pride, vain-glory, self-love, 
 and a worldly heart, are the seeds out of which this 
 
372 
 
 cursed plant springs up in the souls of men. Dig 
 but to the root, you will certainly find these things 
 there; and till the Lord helps you to kill and mortify 
 these, hypocrisy will spring up in all your duties to 
 God, and in all your converses with men. 
 
 Counsel 5. Attend the native voice of your own 
 consciences in the day of sickness, fear or trouble, 
 and take special notice of its checks or upbraidings, 
 vvhich, like a stitch in your side, will gird at such 
 times. Beware of that evil which conscience brands 
 and marks at such times, whether it be your living 
 in the practice of some secret sin, or in the neglect 
 of some known duty. These frights of conscience 
 mark out the corruption, wherein your danger mostly 
 lies. 
 
 Counsel 6. Let all that profess religion be uni- 
 form and steady in the profession and practice of it, 
 without politic reserves and by-ends. O take heed 
 of this Laodicean neutrality and indifFerency which 
 Christ hates ! Be sure your ground be good, and 
 then be sure you stand your ground. The religion 
 of time-servers is but hypocrisy. They have sluices 
 in their consciences which they can open or shut as 
 occasion requires. Every fox will at least have two 
 holes to his den, that if one be stopped, he may escape 
 at the other. The hypocrite poises himself so evenly 
 in a mediocrity, that, as it is said of Baldwin, " Let 
 Antony win, let Augustus win, all is one ;" so let 
 Christ win, or let Antichrist win, he hopes to make 
 every wind that can blow serviceable to waft him to 
 the port of his own interest. 
 
 The hypocrite has always more of the moon than 
 of the sun, little light, many spots, and frequent 
 
873 
 
 changes. It is easier to him to bow to tlie cross, 
 than to bear the cross ; to sin, than to suffer. 
 
 Our own history tells us of a poor simple woman 
 who lived both in the reign of Queen Mary and 
 Queen Elizabeth, and would constantly say her 
 prayers both in Latin and English, that she might 
 be sure to please one side or the other ; and " Let 
 God," said she, " take which likes him best." What 
 is noted as an act of ridiculous simplicity in her, the 
 time-serving hypocrite accounts a point of deep policy 
 in himself. 
 
 The times under Dioclesian were Pagan ; under 
 Constantino, Christian ; under Constantius, Arian ; 
 under Julian, apostate ; and under Jovian, Christian 
 again ; and all this within the space of seventy years, 
 the age of one man. O what shifting and shuffling 
 was there among the men of that generation ! The 
 changes of weather show the unsoundness of men's 
 bodies, and the changes of times the unsoundness of 
 their souls. 
 
 Christian, if ever thou wilt manifest and maintain 
 thine integrity, be a man but of one design, and be 
 sure that be an honest and good design, to secure 
 heaven, whatever becomes of earth ; to hold fast in- 
 tegrity, whatever thou art forced to let go for its 
 sake. Take heed of pious frauds. Certainly it was 
 the devil that first married these two words tog-ether: 
 for they never did nor can agree betwixt themselves, 
 nor was ever such a marriage made in heaven. 
 
 Never study to model religion, and the exercises 
 thereof, in a consistency with or subserviency to your 
 fleshly interests. If your religion be but a mock 
 religion, your reward shall be but a mock heaven, 
 that is, a real hell. 
 
374 
 
 O the vanity and inutility of these projects and 
 designs ! Men strive to cast themselves into such 
 modes, and stint themselves to such measures of re- 
 ligion, as they think will best promote or secure 
 their earthly interests : but it often falls out, contrary 
 to their expectation, that their deep policies are ridi- 
 culous follies ; they become the grief and shame of 
 their friends, and the scorn and song of their enemies. 
 And often it fares with them, as it did with him who 
 placed himself in the middle of the table, where he 
 could neither reach the dish above him, nor that be- 
 low him ; and, which is the very best of it, if earthly 
 interest be accommodated by sinful neutrality, and a 
 Laodicean indifferency in religion, yet no good man 
 should once feel a temptation to embrace it, except 
 he think what is wanting in the sweetness of his 
 sleep may be fully recompensed to him by the state- 
 liness of his bed, and richer furniture of his cham- 
 ber ; I mean, that a fuller and higher condition in the 
 world, can make him amends for the loss of his in- 
 ward peace, and the quiet repose of a good conscience. 
 These by-ends and self-interests are the httle pas- 
 sages through which hypocrisy creeps in upon the 
 professors of religion. 
 
 O let this be your rejoicing, which was Paul's, 
 " tlie testimony of your conscience, that in simplicity 
 and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom, but by 
 the grace of God, you have had your conversation 
 m the world." Let that be your daily prayer and 
 cry to heaven, which was David's, " Let integrity 
 and uprightness preserve me, for I wait on thee." 
 
 Counsel 7. Keep your hearts day and night under 
 the awe of God's all-seeing eye. Remember that 
 
375 
 
 he beholds all your ways, and ponders all your 
 thoughts. How covertly soever hypocrisy may be 
 carried for a time, all must, and will out at last, Luke 
 xii. 3. Sccresy is the main inducement to hypo- 
 crisy : but it will fall out with the hypocrite, as it did 
 with Ottocar the king of Bohemia; he refused to 
 do homage to Rodolphus the emperor, till at last, 
 chastised with war, he was content to do him homage 
 privately in a tent ; but the tent was so contrived by 
 the emperor's servants, that by drawing one cord, it 
 was taken all away ; and so Ottocar was presented on 
 his knees doing homage, in view of three armies. 
 
 Reader, awe thy heart with God's eye; know that 
 he will bring every secret thing into judgment. 
 Thus did Job, and it preserved him. Job xxxi. 1 — 4. 
 Thus did David, and it preserved him. Psalm xviii. 
 21 — 23. Thus do thou also, and it will preserve 
 thee blameless and without guile to the day of 
 Christ. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 Printed by W. Collins & Co. 
 Glasgow. 
 
Princeton Theological Seminary Libraries 
 
 1 1012 01197 4237 
 
 
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