MAKING LIGHT OF ClIKIST AND SALVATION, 
 
 TOO urr Tii£ i&ti'z ur oosi'rL lvvitxtiox^ : 
 
 A CALL TU THE UNCONVEKTED 
 
 TO TIRX AND LIvr : 
 
 THE LAST WOlIK OF A HELIEVFU; 
 
 III* lAXI.XlJ rnATIS, BCCOMHtNLI.VO ma DLVXRtlXO SPIRIT TO lUBIST, 
 TO BE BECXIVZD BY UIX : 
 
 SHEDDING ABROAD OF GOD'S LOVE 
 
 . ox TUZ ULAkT BV Tnz UOtT OUO<T : 
 
 RIJHARD DAXTER. 
 
 WITH AN ESSAY 
 
 ox UlS LirZ, XIMITBT, AND TUZOLOOT, 
 
 Et THOMAS W. JENKYN, D.D., F.C.S., 
 
 fBrtlDEXT or COWARD COLLZQB. luMJO.X. 
 
 er "Tur vmls cr tue holt triBiT and the cuiucu ix TUZ coxtebcio 
 or TUB WOBLD," ic. 
 
 iLaiition : 
 
 THOilAS NELSON, PATERNOSTEK ROW 
 
 AND EDINBUROU. 
 
 M 
 
 M DCCCZLVI.
 
 BX 
 
 5200 
 
 62.3 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 KssAT ON ins. L:fe, Mikistbt, and Theologt of 
 
 £AXl£tt, ..... . . 1 
 
 ! Lkicg Light of Cbrist and Salvalion, . 1 
 
 A Call to the Unccnvertod to Turn and Li-o, -il 
 
 The Last Work of a Believer 197 
 
 Of the Shedding Abroad of Gads LoTe on the Heart by 
 
 the Hc'.y Ghost -"^S 
 
 11428-18
 
 .L\ ESSAY 
 
 baxteh's life, ministhy, and theology. 
 
 It is a remark of Dr Wilkiiis, Bishop of Cliostor, tliat " it was 
 pnoii;;h for one ape to produce such a man as Kichanl Baxter." 
 The a^o which had the honour of producing this holy and j^reat 
 man, was the age of the Commonwealth, the ago of Nonconformity. 
 " Never did our England, since she first emerged from the ocean, 
 rise so high ahove surrounding nations. The rivalry of Holland, 
 the pride of Spain, the insolence of France, were thrust back by one 
 tinger each ; yet those countries were more powerful th?.n they had 
 ever been. The sword of Cromwell was preceded hv the niacc of 
 Milton, by that man which, when Oliver had rendered his account, 
 opened to our contemplation the garden-gate of Paradise. And 
 there were some around not unworthv to enter with him. In the 
 oompass of sixteen centuries, you will not number on the whole 
 earth so many wise and admiralile men, as you could have found 
 imited in that single day, when England shewed her true magni- 
 tude, and solved the question, Wiiick is most, oxf, on \ million? 
 There were giants in those days ; but giants who feared God, and 
 not who fought against him." • 
 
 l)AXTEn was one of the numerous giants of the Commonwealth. 
 He was to its theology what Ciiomwei.l was to its politics, — what 
 Milton was to its liberties, — and what Owex was to its non-con- 
 fiirmity. 
 
 This distinguished man was remarkable in every form of his cha- 
 r.icter, and in all those combinations of qualities which fitted him 
 for extensive usefulness, as an eminent saint, a l.iborious pastor, 
 and a profound divine. The series of works jiresonted to the 
 public in the Linii.vuY of Pikttan Divines, are intended to interest 
 the private Cliristian, the faithful Minister, and the theological Stu- 
 dent. To meet these cases, this Essay is arranged to embrace 
 
 • W. S.iTnjrc Landor'n Imaoivaiit CoNVEn^vxioKs, in the conversa- 
 tion l)etwi'cn Makvel and Paheer.
 
 EAXTKKS Lll'L'. 
 
 Baxter's Life, Baxter's Ministry, and Baxter's Theology*, in the 
 hope that it will succeed iu makinj^ Baxter known to the Million. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Baxter's l i f k. 
 
 UicuARD Baxter was born Xovenihcr 12, IGlo, at Kowton, tiic 
 house of his maternal grandfather, in High Ercall, a rural village, 
 not far from the foot of the Wrekin, in Bhropshirc. His parents 
 were connected with the gentry of the county ; but his father had 
 squandered much of his estate by the habits of gambling, to which 
 lie was addicted in his youtli. About the time of tlieAiirth of Ki- 
 chard, a deep religious seriousness pervaded the chai-acter of his 
 father, which was occasioned by reading the (Scriptures in private. 
 
 Baxter spent the first ten years of his life at Kowton, under the 
 care of his grandfather ; but the father had frequent interviews with 
 his child, and the first religious impressions which his young heart 
 received, were produced by the holy character and serious conver- 
 sations of his father. Under this influence the boy became so ha- 
 liituiiUy devout and serious, that, even at this early ago, as iJr 
 Bates mentions in his funeral sermon for him, he would reprove 
 the improper conduct of other children, " to the astonishment of 
 those who heard him." 
 
 The youthful piety of Kichard Baxter was imfoldcd in the midst 
 of elements calculated to quench and destroj- it. He was bom in a 
 tlistrict where the religion of the ]5ook of ijjwrts was in the liighest 
 popularity. The clergy of the district were, almost universally, 
 iiuTC readers of prayers, and no preachers. It is on tiiis account 
 that they were called reading curates, reading vicars, &c. In ad- 
 dition to their total incapacity for jireaching, they were, for the 
 most jiart, poor, ignorant, immoral, and even dissolute nu;n. The 
 result wa.>», that the villagers and jjcasants were sunk in vice and 
 irrijligion, and spent the greater part of the Sabbath in dancing 
 round the Ma)i)ole, and in otiier gambols, which the Book of Sports 
 recommended and cujtuned as projicr exercises for the Lord's day. 
 Baxt(!r, at so tender an age, was likely to be iulluenced by the cor- 
 rupting scenes around him ; and, in subse(iucut life, l)o deeply la- 
 ments that, " during his boyhood, he became addicted to the sin-t 
 of disobedience to jjareuts, lying, stealing fruit, &c. — sins which af- 
 terwards greatly disturbed his coiibcicnce, and which he found great 
 difHculty in mastering.
 
 nAXTEIiS MIE. 
 
 In such a distrit-t, and in sui-h circumstances, the education of 
 tlio future Schoolman of English Theolog-y was likely to be ;i>:- 
 jjlected. IIi3 first ten years were spent amonjy the peasants of 
 H^i Ercall, and all the education which he received, from the 
 age of six to ten, was under the traininjj of the four successive 
 curates of the parish, of whom the two ablest were drunkards, 
 even to beggary. At the age of ten, he was removed from Eowton 
 to the house of liis father, at Eaton Constantino, a village reposing 
 on the left bank of the Severn, about live miles below Slirewsbury. 
 Here he was placed under the instruction of the curate, a notorious 
 drunkard, who Lid been a lawyer's clerk, who was now reading 
 prayers under forged orders, and who, in Baxter's time, preache.l 
 only once, and was then drnnk. From this wretched teacher, i;i 
 pretended holy orders, he was transferred to the care of a man of ac- 
 knowledged abilities, " who," says Baxter, '' loved me much, and 
 who expected to be made a bishop." This tutor grievously neglected 
 his cliarge, for, in the course of two j-ears, he never gave liis pupil 
 one hour's actiml instruction, but " devoted his time to attacks on 
 the Puritans." His next tutor w;\s Mr Owen of Wroxeter, the 
 head-master of the free school of that place. Here Baxter made 
 considerable attaiuments in the Latin Classics, but not much pro- 
 gress in Greek. 
 
 In all these places of education, Baxter had to depend entirely 
 upon his own diligence, ambition, and judgment. HLs proficiency 
 at Wroxeter was so satisfactory to Mr Owen, that he was now 
 deemed fidly prepared for the University of Oxford, for which he 
 was intended; but instead of sending the youth to Oxford, Mr 
 Owen recommended liim to go to Ludlow, to be under the tuition 
 of Mr Wiekstead, the chaplain of the council, who was allowed to 
 have one pupil. Ue who luis once seen Ludlow Castle, will fondly re- 
 member it as the romantic centre of one of the sweetest landscapes 
 in England, and as the august scat of many liistorical recollections. 
 Here Baxter entered as a pui)il, — here, some three or four yeais 
 afterwards, ^lilton presented his inmiortal " Comus'' for tlie first 
 time, — (ind here, some tliirty years afterwards, Butler wrote the first 
 p;irt of his Hudibras. In Ludlow Cxstle, however, as well as else- 
 where, Baxter's education was neglected by his "tutor ; and all tlm 
 benefit which tlic youtli received, he derived himself from the e;:- 
 joyment of abundance of time, and plenty of books. His own in- 
 domitable mind did all the; rest, in kis " pursuit of knowledge un- 
 der difficultie.<." 
 
 In the history of Baxter's life, Ludlow is celebrated for two events 
 which had great influence in the formation of hia reJi;,'iou9 charac- 
 ter : and tlicse were his temptations to become a gambler, and the
 
 IV BAXTER S LIFE. 
 
 religions apostacy of his most intimate friend. The first game he 
 ever played in his life, he played with the hest gamester in the 
 Castle. It was soon perceived that, he must inevitably lose the 
 game, unless he obtained one particular cast of the dice each tin^p in 
 snccession. The dice gave that particular cast each time, and he 
 won the game. His astonishing success induced him to believe 
 that the devil had managed the dice for the purpose of making a 
 gamester of him. lie therefore returned the money to his antago- 
 nist, and determined never to play another game. The apostacy of 
 his yo'.mg friend was more dangerous to him than the temptation 
 to gambling. His friend was a religious and a very devotional 
 young man. They were very much attached to each other, and 
 were constantly studying together. He was the first that Bax- 
 ter had ever heard pray extempore, and it was from him that Baxter 
 himself acquired the gift and habit. This youth became a reviler of 
 all religion, and even scoffed at Baxter's devotional habits. From 
 the contagion of his influence Baxter was preserved, partly by his 
 own deep religious convictions at that time, and partly by his re- 
 moval from Ludlow Castle to Eaton Constantine. 
 
 Wlien he returned to the house of his father he was fifteen years 
 of age. He was one day rummaging among the books of his father, 
 and discovered an old tattered book, which a poor cottager in the neigh- 
 bourhood had lent him. Young Baxter, fresh from the scenes and 
 recollections of Ludlow Castle, read this book very closely, and with 
 great " searchings of heart ;" and the reading produced in his mind 
 decided convictions of the evil of sin. It will be interesting to 
 know what book that was which gave the decisive turn to Baxter's 
 mind. That tattered old book was Bunny's " Booke of Christian 
 Exercise appertaining to Resolution." Its name in common use 
 was " Bunny's Kesolution." The real author of it was Parsons, 
 the famous English Jesuit. The original was written on purely 
 popish principles ; but it was corrected and improved by Edmund 
 Bunny, a thorough old Puritan, who was Rector of Bolton Percy, 
 and who, after a life of apostolic labours, died in 1617. 
 
 " Bunny's Resolution " deals much and vigorously with con- 
 science, and rouses every man to the obligation of " resolving our- 
 selves to become CTiristians indeed." It is probable that this work 
 gave to Baxter's mind that awakening tone, and that eloquent 
 energy, which tell so mightily in his " Call to the Unconverted." 
 The Jesuit, in composing this work, never thought that it would 
 produce the author of " The Certainty of Christianity without 
 Popery." Bunny's Resolution was useful to Baxter, only so far as 
 it awakened his mind, and directed him to caution, prayer, and 
 firmness: it neither led him to Christ, nor brought him to 'he
 
 BAXTEIl S LIFE. ▼ 
 
 guklance and aid of the Holy Spirif;, and, therefore, it gave him no 
 " joj' and peace in believing." This was reserved for another, and 
 a very different work : this honour was for Dr Sibbs' Bruised Reed. 
 This admirable little work brought him and his resolutions to the 
 Saviour, and melted his heart into devotion. If Bunny's Eesolu- 
 tion strung Baxter's harp, it was Sibbs' Bruised Reed that tuned it 
 to the love of Christ. 
 
 These were the circumstances in which Baxter was making 
 arrangements for studying theology. In these he was interrupted 
 by his being requested to superintend the school at Wroxeter, on 
 account of the illness of his old tutor Mr Owen, and then by his 
 own bodily infirmities. After superintending the Wroxeter school 
 for three months, he placed himself under the care of the Rev. 
 Francis Garbett, of the same village, that he might study theology 
 as a science. He had scarcely been a month in the study of logic, 
 before he was attacked with a harassing cough, spitting of blood, 
 and many other symptoms of consumption, which continued to afflict 
 him, almost incessantly, for two years. This affliction checked his 
 intellectual studies, but it gave a powerful and an onward impulse 
 to his religious affections ; it excited him to a closer examination of 
 his motives for entering the ministry, and it associated all his future 
 plans and present movements vnih eternity. He already began to 
 feel as a dying man among dying men. In this frame of mind, he 
 found EzEKiEL CuLVER^yELL'^ " Treatise of Faith," a gi-eat help 
 and a delightful solace. It is reported of him that, in the twilight of 
 every evening, at that interval in which it was too dark for him to 
 read, and not dark enough to light his lamp, he employed his mind 
 regularly in tliinking of heaven. This will account for the sweet- 
 ness and power with which at a subsequent period he >vrote about 
 " The Saints' Everlasting Rest ; " the reading of which now is like 
 conversing in " the gate of heaven." 
 
 The first month of his studies under Mr Garbett had been given 
 to logic ; but after this affliction, he resolved to devote himself 
 rntirely, and almost exclusively, to theology, and that ^v^th a spe- 
 cial and direct view to the information and the spiritual furniture of 
 his own soul. In his theological curriculum, he studied first prac- 
 tical theology as exhibited in the best works of our English divines. 
 In learning systematic theology, he was obliged to have recourse to 
 the works of foreign divines; because, unless Perkins's Golden 
 Chain be regarded as a systematic work, the English language did 
 not at this period possess a Body of Divinity. 
 
 \^ roxeter is to be held in remembrance as the place, in which 
 Baxter finished his course of education preparatory to his entering 
 on liis ministerial work. In that important process he greatly needed
 
 VI k.UlTek s like. 
 
 an intelligent gniile, wiio would have directed him to the best course 
 of theological reailing, aud to the best methods of study : but instead 
 of having such guidance, he was left much to himseh", and was almost 
 entirely liis own teacher. Had he had the advantages of a regular cur- 
 riculum at a college or uuiversit}-, his knowledge would have been bet- 
 ter arranged and more S3'mmetrical, though, perhaps, not so various 
 and discursive. In the absence of such salutary discipline and whole- 
 some aid, his predilections and taste led him to plunge himself into 
 the thick forests of metaphysical theology. In dialectics he became 
 a consummate Aristotelian. The ecclesiastical fathers came to him 
 as if they were brethren ; Aquinas, as a familiar spirit ; Anselm, 
 as a fellow student ; and Duns Scotus, as a pleasant companion. 
 His success in these kinds of studies was so great and thorough, 
 that, for acutcness in definitions, for subtlety in distinctions, and 
 for masterly adroitness in disj)utation and logomachy, he deserved 
 to be called the last of the Schoolmen. To all theologians, who 
 have made any acquaintance with scholastic divinity, it is a pleasing 
 marvel that, amid all its jargon Latin and its dry speculations,^ 
 Baxter's mind and heart were kept in all their lively freshness and 
 healthy glow. On one occasion their ponderous tomes seriously 
 endangered his life, as they fell from shelves under which ho Wiis 
 reposing. He recounts his deliverance as a singular interposition 
 of Providence. " As I sat in my study, the weight of my greatest 
 folio books brake down three or four of the highest shelves, when I 
 sat close under them, and they fell down on every side of me, and 
 not one of them hit me, save one upon my arm ; whereas the place, 
 the weight, and the greatness of the books was such, and my hea<l 
 just under them, that it is a wonder they had not beaten out my 
 brains." It is quite as great a wonder, that their weighty and crab- 
 bed lore did not wither and shrivel the energies of his capacious 
 heart. Profound studies in metaphysics tend generally to freeze 
 the religious affections of the student, but it is evident that they did 
 not damp the ardour of Baxter's devotion. Even while threading 
 the labyrinths and " wondrous mazes " of scholastic theology, he 
 was " fervent in spirit, serving the Lord." Hear his own account, 
 and his own estimate of his studies, as given in a letter to the 
 bigotted and partial Anthony Wood, who wished to know whether 
 lie was an alumnus of Oxford. " As to myself," says Baxter, " my 
 faults are no disgrace to any university, for I was of none ; I have 
 little but what I had out of books, and inconsiderable helps of 
 country tutors. Weakness and pain helped me to study how to 
 flu; that set me on studying how to liie ; and that on studying the 
 doctrine from which 1 fetch my motives and comforts. Beginning 
 with necessitic!!, I proceeded by degrees ; and now I am going to 
 •ice that for which I have lived and studied."'
 
 BAXTERS I.IFK. V:i 
 
 W'lu'ii Daxter was giving himself a theological eJacatiun at 
 ANroxeter, his prospects of usefulness in the ministry were clouded 
 hy his diseased constitution. He was now eighteen years of age, 
 and his liveliest hopes were blighted. His former tutor at Ludlow 
 Castle advised him to try his fortune at court, " as being the only 
 rising way." For, at this period, Charles I. had but lately ascend- 
 ed the throne, ilauy circumstances seconded this recommenda- 
 tion. His parents had never been verj- cordial in his ivishes to 
 ••nter the ministry. They had great confidence in the opinion of 
 Mr Wickstead ; and he had great interest with Sir Henry Herbert, 
 who was Master of the Ilevels. liaxter came to London and spent a 
 niontli at court, but it was a month of disgust and revulsion. He says, 
 •' I had quickly enough of the court ; when I saw a stage-play instead 
 of a sennon on the Lord's days in the afternoon, and saw what 
 cjiurse was there in fashion, and heard little preaching but what 
 was, as to one part, against the Puritans, I was glad to be gone." 
 
 The illness of his mother supplied him with a good excuse for 
 quitting Whitehall and retiring to Shroyjshire. He left London 
 abi>ut Christmas 1633, during a severe frost. While travelling on 
 horseback through a heavy and memorable snow-storm, he met, in 
 a narrow part of the road, a loaded waggon, which he could pass 
 only by riding on tlie side of a bank. In spurring liis horse up 
 this bank, the animal fell, the girths broke, and Baxter was thrown 
 immediately before the wheel. At this critical juncture the horses 
 stopped suddenly, unaccountably, but providentially, and his life 
 was saved. The preservation of his life, in so remarkable a manner, 
 deeply affected him. Under the influence of tliis fresh interference 
 of (iod in his behalf, he reached his home, where he found his mo- 
 ther in such agonies of pain that her groans filled the whole house. 
 She languished through the spring, and died on May 10, 1634. At 
 the grave of his mother, and being rescued so wonderfully from his 
 own grave, liLs mind was awakened to fresh and resolved thoughts 
 ab<jut the ministry ; and, in three or four yc^irs more, he entered the 
 church as a Conformist, though no Episcopalian. 
 
 In 1638 he was appointed head master of the Free School which 
 had been just established at Dudley, where he would have also op- 
 portunities for iireaehing. In the same year he was ordained at 
 \N'orcestcr by Bishop Thomborough. After staying one year at 
 Dudley, he removed to Bridgenorth. where the Et Caetera Oath 
 iii.ide him a Nonconformist, and where, he says, he continued about 
 a j'car and three quarters, having " liberty of preaching in troub- 
 lous times." 
 
 The days of Baxter's sojourn in Bridgenorth might well be called 
 " troublous times." In these times Laud was teaching popery 
 to England, and manufacturing bonds of iniquity for Protestant?
 
 Vlll B.VXTEU S LIFE. 
 
 BtraSfortl vas learning and practising servilityto Cliarles, and sap- 
 ping the liberries of his country ; kings trembled on their thrones, 
 and bishops were ill at ease on their benches ; the immortal Hamp- 
 den was disputing with his king about shiiJ-ftioney ; I'cter Smart 
 was imprisoned twelve years for preaching against high church 
 ceremonies ; Dr Leightou, as much the minister of tlie freedom of 
 truth, as his son was the minister of its love, had his ears cut off, 
 and his nose slit, for ■\vriting his " Zion's I'lea agauist Prelacy ;" 
 PrjTine, the barrister, liad similar cruelties inlUcted on him for 
 writing against plays and masquerades ; tlie Scots were marching to 
 England wth their Covenant; the High Commission Court was 
 practising the abominations of the Inquisition ; the English were 
 beginning to speak in honest Saxon, and bold tones, to their princes ; 
 Charles was become the most consummate and shameless hypocrite 
 in England ; the House of Commons appointed a committee to re- 
 ceive the complaints and petitions of the people against their ignorant 
 and dissolute clergy, and the chairman published those complaints 
 in his " One Century of Scandalous Ministers." 
 
 Such were the times about 1640, when Baxter left Bridgenorth to 
 settle in Kidderminster, where he had been invited by the people 
 to become' their lecturer. This was his first settlement in that 
 town, which lasted about two years ; but they were two years of 
 laborious ^Meaching on his part, of great political agitations among 
 thei)eople, and of imminent danger to his life. The Koyalist rabble 
 were so malignant against his ministry, that his best friends recom- 
 mended him to leave the plpce. 
 
 From Kidderminster he went to Gloucester, where he tarried one 
 month. During his short stay, he witnessed, for the first time, one 
 of the public disputations, which were sometimes held between the 
 ministers and the Baptists, who ■were every where agitating the 
 churches on the question of immersion, — a question on which, it is 
 the humiliation and enervation of the Congrcgationalists, that they, 
 have not agreed to differ without separating from each other. On 
 all other topics they can meet and associate with safety and peace. 
 A Baptist and Independent arc nmch like the powders of an acid 
 and an alkali ; they can mix together in the same phial, and in the 
 same vessel, with perfect concord : but just drop a little v>ater among 
 them, and they are immediately in cfl'ervescenco. So did Baxter 
 find them at Gloucester, and so did he afterwards find them in his 
 controversies witii Mr Tombes of Bewdley. 
 
 When lie had spent a month at Gloucester, his friends at Kidder- 
 minster thought he might return to them in safety; but, on his re- 
 turn, he found the town so mucli divided on the questions between 
 tlie King and the I'arliament, that he was obliged to quit it imme-
 
 EAXTEU S LIFE. IX 
 
 diately. Once more he was a wanderer, and he visited his old 
 friend Jlr Samuel Clark, at Alcester, where he preached on Sun- 
 day, October 23, 1642, amid the sounds of the cannon at Edgehill. 
 On the next day he went to see the field of battle, and saw the two 
 armies keeping the ground in sight of each other, and the space 
 between them covered wjth tlie unburied bodies of the slain. From 
 Alcester he went to Coventry to spend a month with his friend ilr 
 Simon King, who Avas minister there. He cxi)ccted that, in a month, 
 Charles and the Parliament ^vould have adjusted their diSereuees 
 and put an end to the civil war, but instead of ceasing, the war 
 raged more and more furiously. The state of the country induced 
 him to accept the invitation of the committee and governor of Co- 
 ventrj' to stay with them and to preach to the soldiers. After a 
 stay of one year in this city, he went to Shropshire for the pui-pose 
 of releasing his father, who was a prisoner at Lilleshall. It was 
 on tliis occasion that he jouied Colonel ilytton, and Mr Hunt of 
 lioreatton, at the garrison of AVem. In Shropshire, he was perpe- 
 tually in the midst of tumults and skirmishes, and, therefore, at the 
 end of two months, he returned to Coventry, and staid there another 
 year. It was during this second stay that he signed the Scottish 
 Covenant, and declared himself openly on the side of the Parlia- 
 ment. The first of these acts he always afterwards lamented ; and 
 for the second, he apologises \nt\\ thii-ty-two reasons in his " Peni- 
 tent Confessions." 
 
 Baxter was at Coventry when Cromwell fought and won the battle 
 of Naseby ; and, two days after the victory, he visited the field of 
 battle, and passed a night in the Parliamentary camp, near Leices- 
 ter. This visit opened his eyes to the real state of the army on the 
 subject of civil and religious liberty. His new information deepened 
 and darkened his prejudices against Crom\vell. Yet some of the 
 officers persuaded him to join the army, and he consented to become 
 chaplain to Colonel Whalley's regiment. 
 
 As a military chaplain, his subsequent movements were regulated 
 by the campaigns and marches of the regiment to which he M-as at- 
 tached. Immediately on joining the anny, he marched to Somer- 
 ton, and was present at the battle of Langport, where, standing on 
 the brow of a hill, he could survey the operations of both armies. 
 As Goring's anny began to flee before the Parliamentary forces 
 under Fairfax, Baxter stood next to JIajor Harrison, and heard the 
 gallant officer " with a loud voice break forth into the praise of 
 God Avith fluent expressions, as if he had been in a rapture." 
 
 From Langj^iort he accompanied the army to the siege of Bridge- 
 water, which he sa^v taken by storm. He was again at the siege of 
 Bristol, where, in about three days, he was taken ill of a fever, occa-
 
 X BAXTKi; S LIFE. 
 
 sionofl by the plaf^ue wliicli prevailed in tlie iieiglilioiirlionrl. Ilo 
 immediately quitted the camp, and rode to Batli, to be under the 
 care of his physician, Dr Venner. In fourteen days the fever ended 
 in a crisis, but it left him so emaciated and weak that " it Tras long,"' 
 he says, " before I recovered the little strength which I had before." 
 On his recovery, he returned to Bristol, and saw that city taken in 
 four days, Major Bethell wounded and slain, and Prince IJupert 
 routed with the loss of his " ordnance and arms." His next march 
 was to Sherborne Castle, which, after a fortnight's siege, was taken 
 by storm, " and that on a side which one would think could never 
 Jiave been that way taken." Cromwell, after his success at Basing- 
 house, near Basingstoke, resolved to pursue I^ord Goring's troops 
 to the west of England, where they had made themselves infamous 
 for their flagrant impieties and barljarous outrages. In consequence 
 <<f tliis movement of the army, Baxter was present at the siege of 
 Exeter, where he continued abotit three weeks, and then left because 
 his regiment was ordered to march against Oxford to keep that gar- 
 rison in check till the army would return from Exeter. Colonel 
 Whalley's regiment quartered in Buckinghamshire for about six 
 weeks, when it besieged and took Banbury Castle. It was while 
 quartering in this neighbourhood that Baxter maintained his famous 
 disputation with Bethcll's troopers at Agmondesham. 
 
 At the siege of Worcester, ]5axter was again taken very ill, and 
 lie was urged by his friends to visit London for medical advice. On 
 arriving in the metropolis, his physician sent him to Tunbridge 
 AV'ells, where he received considerable benefit, and then returned 
 through London to the army in Worcestershire. Ilis quarters were 
 at Rous Lench, the seat of Sir Thomas Eons, where lie had never 
 been before. Here Providence supplied him with a vahiable friend, 
 who continued for years to be of great use to him. This friend was 
 liady Lench, " a godly, grave, and understanding woman, who en- 
 tertained me," says Baxter, " not as a soldier, but as a friend." 
 From Worcestershire he went into Leicestershire, .Staffordshire, 
 and Derbyshire. At Melbourn, near Ashby-de-la-Zouch, his for- 
 mer diseases again afflicted him. It was now a cold and snowy sea- 
 son, and " the cold," he says, " together with other things coinci- 
 dent, set my nose bleeding. When I had bled a quart or two, I 
 opened four veins, but that did no good. I used divers other reme- 
 dies, for several days, to little purpose. * * * This so mucli 
 weakened me, and altered my complexion, that my acquaintances 
 who came to see me scarcely knew me." 
 
 'Hiis affliction was a turning jxiint in the liistory of Baxter. It 
 took him completely from all his schemes of opposing the Ironsides, 
 just when he thoi'tj'U liimscl'' host prepared and furnished for tlie
 
 BAXTEK 3 LIFE. XI 
 
 enterprise ; and, by this means, he was separated for ever from the 
 army. His ilhicss at JVIelbourn detained him in his chamber and 
 among strangers for tliree. weeks. As soon as he gathered a little 
 strengtii, he went to Kirhy Mallory, and spent three weeks at the 
 house of his friend Mr Nowell. ^\^len the news of his illness reached 
 Kous Lench, Lady Rous sent her servant all the way to Leicester- 
 shire to bring him under her roof. " In great weakness," says 
 Baxter, " thither I made shift to get, where I was entertained with 
 tlie gi-eatest care and tenderness, while I continued to use the means 
 for my recovery ; and when 1 had been there a quarter of a year, I 
 returned to Kidderminster." 
 
 He had now been ill about five months, but they were the most 
 memorable months in his history. It was in this season of pains 
 and medicines that he wrote his first works. His disputes in the 
 army had prepared him to ^\Tite his " Aphorisms of Justification ; " 
 and his sanctified afflictions made him write of " The Saints' Ever- 
 lasting liest." The work which he commenced first was the " Saint's 
 Rest ;" and it was while discussing the rewards, which should be 
 conferred on the saints for their works of faith, that he was led to 
 write his "Aphorisms." In speaking of the " Saint's Rest." he says, 
 " AVliilst I was in health, I had not the least thought of writing 
 books, or of serving God in any more public way than preaching. 
 But when I was weakened with great bleeding, and left solitary in 
 my chamber at Sir John Cook's in Derbyshire, v^ithout any ac- 
 quaintance but my servant about me, and was sentenced to death 
 by the physicians, I began to contemplate more seriously on the 
 everlasting rest which I apprehended myself to be just on the bor- 
 ders of; and that my thoughts might not too much scatter in my 
 meditation, I began to write something on that subject, intending 
 buf the quantity of a sermon or two (which is the cause that the 
 beginning is, in brevity and style, disproportionable to the rest) ; 
 but being continued long in weakness, where I had no books, nor 
 DO better emplopnent, I followed it on till it was enlarged to the 
 l)ulk in which it is published. The first three weeks I spent in it 
 was at Mr Nowell's house at Kirby llallory, in Leicestershire ; a 
 quarter of a year more, at the seasons which so great weakness 
 would allow, I bestowed on it at Sir Tho. Rous's house, at Rous 
 Lench, in Worcestershire ; and I finished it shortly after at Kidder- 
 minster. The first and last parts were first done, being all that I 
 intcndeil for my own use ; and the second and third parts came 
 afterwards in besides my first intention." 
 
 Mj-riads of saints will have to bless God for ever for having 
 afdicted Baxter at Melbourn, and for having taught him, in the mi- 
 nister's house at Kirbv, to write the " Saints' Rest." He wrote it 
 
 b
 
 Xii BAXTEUS LIFK. 
 
 when he had no books by hun but a Bible and a Concordance. It 
 •was the transcript of his own heart, and therefore he found that, of 
 all his works, " it had the greatest force on the hearts of others." 
 It was first published in 1G49, and since then, it has gone through 
 many successive editions — surpassed, in niunber of editions, by, per- 
 haps, no other book but the Pilgrim's Progress, or his own " Call 
 to the Unconverted." All the editions subsequent to 1659 are dis- 
 tinguished by one ])ainful peculiarity. In the Commonwealth edi- 
 tions, he has introduced the name of Lord Brook, Hampden, and 
 Pym, as among the glorified saints whom he should meet in " the 
 everlasting rest ; " but in impressions under the Restoration, these 
 names are left ont. The motive for omitting them was to please 
 Dr Jane, and to induce him to license the publication of the volume. 
 It is a wonder and a grief to all the friends of Baxter, that he should 
 have thus truckled ; for the omission was against his own firm judg- 
 ment concerning these illustrious individuals ; and the omission, like 
 all other such will-sacrifices, was far from giving satisfaction to the 
 prelatical party. According to Baxter's own unchanged opinion, 
 Hampden, Pym, and Brook, were still in the everlasting rest, 
 though their names were no longer in his book about that rest. 
 This omission marred the honour, but it did not injure the useful- 
 ness, of the book, ilany thousands own their conversion to it ; and 
 many more owe to it their growth in grace, and their edification in 
 love and heavenly mindedness. 
 
 Baxter's afflictions and meditations on the Saints' Rest had pre- 
 pared him for his pastoral work at Kidderminster, whither he has- 
 tened from Rous Lench. The account of his ministiy in that town, 
 made famous by his pastorship, will be found in the second chapter 
 of this Essay. He spent there fourteen years, which were as event- 
 ful in the history of England as they were in the life of the labori- 
 ous minister. In these years Cromwell marched his troops against 
 the Parliament and subdued it. Charles, after a life of improbity 
 and bloodshed, was seized by the army and executed ; the Common- 
 wealth was estaldished, and Cromwell proclaimed its I'rotector ; the 
 Scottish Covenanters were intriguing with Charles II. at Breda, 
 and sacrificed Montrose to their schemes ; war was devastating Ire- 
 land and Scotland; Charles II. entered England, lost the battle of 
 Worcester, and inmiortalized the royal oak ; tlie Protector died, and 
 his son was deposed ; England ceased to be puritan ; and General 
 Mojdc liad matured In's plots for duping the army to restore Charles 
 to the throne of his father. 
 
 Such was the state of England wlien Baxter left Kidderminster, 
 and reached London, April 13, IGGO. On his arrival he conversed 
 with Lord Lauderdale on the nation's obligation to tlie oath whk'h
 
 BAXTEli'S LIFE. xiii 
 
 tlif y had sworn to Kicliard C'roniwell. This Lauderdale was the 
 man who had procured letters to bo written by Protestant ministers 
 in France, filled with assurances that Charles was firmly attached 
 to the Protestant religion. A new parliament was immediately 
 summoned to cancel the obligation of the oath to Richard Crom- 
 well, and to invite Charles II.* to England. To this parliament 
 Baxter preached at iSt Margaret's, Westminster, April 30, on Re- 
 pentance, from Ezek. xxxvi. 31. Immediately after the sennon, 
 the House was to meet to vote the return of Charles. On May 10, 
 ho preached again from Luke x. 30, on " Right Rejoicing," to the 
 l^ord Mayor and Aldermen of London, who were keeping a day of 
 solemn thanksgiving for Licneral Monk's success in bringing the 
 king back. As Cliarles ])assed through the city of London to West- 
 minster, the London ministers attended him with acclamations, 
 and, by the hands of the oldest minister among them, the venerable 
 Arthur Jackson, they " presented him with a richly adorned Bible, 
 which he received, and ti;ld them that it should be the rule of his 
 actions." Thus, before he had yet reached liis throne, Charles be- 
 gan to act the hypocrite, even with the Bible in his hand, and to 
 treat with flagitious duplicity the men who had restored him to his 
 cro^vn. These ministers were honest men, but they allowed them- 
 selves to be duped and entrapped ; and, in two years after their 
 acclamations, he made llieni ])ay dearly for their silly confidence in 
 royal promises. Oh ! had wisdom uttered her voice in some street, 
 and cried in some place of concourse, or in the opening of the gates 
 of London, while Charles was passing, and had told these ministers, 
 " Put NOT Youu TKUsr i\ Pkixces,"* many wailings and much 
 shame would have been saved this country. 
 
 After the Restoration, ten or twelve of the Presbyterian ministers 
 were made royal chaplains ; and among these was Baxter, " at his 
 Majesty's own desire, as an acceptable furtherance of his service." 
 In this ofllce none of them ever preached except Mr Calamy, Dr 
 Reynolds, Dr iSpurslow, Mr Woodbridge, and Baxter, once each. 
 After his appointment, he I'.ad an intervieAv with the king on the 
 practicableness of efi'ecting an agreement between the Episcopalians 
 and Presbyterians, which ended in the royal farce of the meet- 
 ing at ^ion College. In September 4, 16G0, Cliarles published his 
 insulting Declaration, to which Baxter drew up an answer, in such 
 terms of firmuess and manliness as to alarm Calamy and Reynolds, 
 
 • At Bri'Ua, April 4, IGCO, Charks II. gave his royal word in tliese 
 tiTins — " Wf do declare a liberty to tender consciences, and that no man 
 shall be disquieted, or called in question, for dift'erences of o[iiiiion which 
 do not disturb the peace of the kingdom." This he had the proUigacy to 
 declare on, what he called, '' tlie word of a Christian king.''
 
 XIV BAXTER S LIFE. 
 
 who (loclared that " it would not he so much as rcceivcfl." ^Tlion 
 Baxter's modified replv was presented, a modified declaration of the 
 king was proclaimed, which was as unsatisfactory as its first compo- 
 sition. Defective and even insolent as the king's modified declara- 
 tion was, the very pastors who had enahled Charles to insult them, 
 met to thank him for the minimum of liherty which he graciously 
 gave them. "\Micn they presented their thanks to the king, Baxter 
 refused to attend. On hearing this, the king sent for Baxter the 
 next day. and flattered him, but did not change his opinion about 
 royal fidelity. These discussions concluded with farce the second, 
 called the Savoy Conference, at which Sheldon acted with the 
 haughtiness and tyranny of a Wolscy. 
 
 Though the Presbyterian Divines were thus treated by the court 
 and the hierarchy, the Nonconformists were known and felt to he 
 a powerful body in the country. As a measure of kingcraft, there- 
 fore, it was proposed that the best way to silence them was to make 
 some of their leaders Lord Bishops ; and, accordingly, Hereford was 
 oficred to Baxter, Litchfield and Coventry to Calamy, and Norwich 
 to Re}Tiolds, who accepted it on the ground that the congS d'elire was 
 taken out without his knowledge by a friend. An emissary of the 
 court, Colonel Birch, waited upon Baxter again and again to get 
 him to intimate his consent ; but he declared, that " if the old dio- 
 cesan frame continued, he would not accept it." Even this was not 
 enough, the Chancellor, Qarendon, had an interview with him, and 
 asked him about his resolution, when the proposal was rejected for 
 ever. In saying " Nolo Episcopari," he meant it as " the words of 
 truth and soberness." 
 
 The next step in Baxter's life is one perfectly singular, and is a 
 good illustration of his character. Having declined a bishopric, he 
 entreated Clarendon to give him the poor curacy of Kidderminster. 
 " My ])eople," he says, " were so dear to me, and I to them, that 
 I would have been with them on the lowest terms. Some laughed 
 at me for refusing a bishopric, and petitioning to be a reading-vicar's 
 curate ; l)ut I had little hopes of so good a condition, at least for any 
 considerable time. The Chancellor, and even the King, professed 
 to be for his restoration to his people, but they allowed themselves 
 to ])e bn*iled by his well known enemy, Sir l?alph Clare ; and Bi- 
 shop ^Torley also was resolved that he should never again enter the 
 diocese of Worcester." When the people at Kidderminster under- 
 stood the disposition of Baxter towards fliem, " in a day's time tliey 
 gathered the hands of sixteen hundred out of the eighteen hundred 
 communicants," witli the assurance of more, if they had only time 
 given them. Wlint Clarendon and the King had professed to fail 
 to do, he tried to do for himself. " I went do^^■n," lie says, " to
 
 BAXTER S LIFE. XV 
 
 AVorcestersliire, to try whether it were possible to have any honest 
 terms from the reading-viear there, that I might preach to my 
 former flock ; but -when I liad preached twice or thrice, he denied 
 me hberty to preach any more. * * * I offered to be his curate, and 
 he refused it. I then offered to preach for nothing, and he refused it. 
 And, lastly, I desu-ed leave but once to administer the sacrament to 
 the people, and to preach my fiu-ewell sermon to them, but he would 
 not consent. At last I understood that he was directed by his su- 
 periors to do what he did." From Kiddermiuster, Baxter, after 
 paying a hasty visit to his afflicted father in Shropshire, waited on 
 Bishop Morley. " I reminded the Bishop," he says, " of his pro- 
 mise to grant me his license, &c. ; but be refused me liberty to 
 preach in his diocese, though I offered to preach only on the Creed, 
 tlie Lord's Prayer, and the Ten Commandments, and that only to 
 such as had no preaching." 
 
 Baxter was sUcnced, — the man who had received his " ministry 
 from the Lord Jesus," was rejected. He went to the Bishop's palace 
 with " neither purse uor scrip." He said, " peace be to this house," 
 but " the son of peace was not there." AMien the door of Worces- 
 ter's palace closed on " holy Baxter," the event appeared trifling 
 in episcopal judgment ; but all the influence and bearings of that 
 little event have not been yet developed. An edict has gone forth 
 from the Lord, wliich says — " Into whatsoever city ye enter, and 
 they receive you not, go your ways out into the streets of the same 
 and say. Even the very dust of your city which cleaveth ♦n us, we 
 do wipe off against you." That dust, as it falls from the messenger, 
 will have its influence on other interests. Natm-al Pliilusophy in- 
 forms us, that a grain of sand on the point of a needle has its influ- 
 ence on the greatest and most remote bodies in the solar system. In 
 the same manner. Revelation assures, that the dust from the sandals 
 of ejected ministers, will, in the day of retribution, make it more 
 tolerable for Sodom than for that city or that house which has re- 
 jected them. 
 
 After the prelate of Worcester had refused to license him in that 
 diocese, he settled in London, and preached in various vacant pul- 
 pits, where his services were requested. After a year of such 
 occasional, and always gi-atuitous ministrations, he resolved to 
 become a colleague of the Rev. Dr Bates, at St Dunstan's in the 
 West, where he preached onco a-week. The subjects of his sermons 
 seem to have been regularly reported in high quarters, and he was 
 always charged with sedition and rebellion, till he jn-eached the 
 sti-ics which he afterwards published under the title of " The Formal 
 lI)-])ocrite Detected," when the low h}i)ocrites that reported him, 
 and tlie high h}iiocrites which heard their reports, ceased their 
 accusations.
 
 It -was while preaclniig in St Dunstaii's thai lio (lis;)kiycd that 
 solemn and calm superiority to alarm and fear which is related by 
 Dr Bates. The church of St Dunstan's had " an ill name, as very 
 old, rotten, and dangerous ;" when therefore " a little lime and dust, 
 and perhaps a piece of brick or two, fell down the steeple" during 
 service, the whole congregation was exceedingly alarmed, and every 
 one rushed towards the doors. Baxter " sat down in the pulpit, 
 seeing and pitying their vain distempers ; and then, as soon as he 
 could be heard, he rose and said, " Wc are in the service of God, to 
 prepare ourselves, that we may be fearless at the great noise of tlie 
 dissolving world, when the heavens shall pass away, and the elements 
 melt with fervent heat." lie then continued and finished his dis- 
 course, wliich was his last at St Dunstan's church, which had to be 
 rebuilt. 
 
 Between this time and the passing of the anti-Christian Act of 
 Uniformity, he continued to preach for some time at St Bride's in 
 Fleet Street, and at St Ann's, Black Friars, and he had also a week- 
 day lecture in Milk Street, supported by Mr Ashiirst. Thus he 
 continued to labour in his Jlaster's work, till the shadows of Bar- 
 tholomew Eve warned him to quit the English Church, wliich 
 incessantly harassed him, and persecuted him even unto death. 
 
 The whole noble band of Nonconformists were about to be ejected 
 from the Church of England on August 24, 101)2; but Baxter re- 
 solved to quit that Church before tlie Act of Uniformity came into 
 force, and he accordingly preached his last sermon on the 25tli of 
 the previous Maj-. This he did, partly because his legal advisers 
 informed him, that as he was only a Lecturer, the liberty of all 
 lecturers terminated on the 25th of May ; partly to let authority 
 know that he would obey it in all that was lawful ; but chiefly to 
 let all the Ministers iu England understand in time that ho did not 
 intend to conform, lest any should conform in the expectation that 
 he would be a conformist. When the 24th of August came, two 
 tliousand illustrious, able, and faithful ministers — such two thousand 
 as England saw never — wei-e faithful to their consciences, and faithful 
 to the God of truth and liberty; and they all quitted the English 
 Church. Popery had its Bartholomew's day in France, and it shed 
 the blood of myriads ; and I'relacy has had its Bartholomew's day 
 in England, and it covered it with the gall of bitterness and bonds of 
 iniquity. 
 
 While Baxter was busy in devising schemes of comprehension for 
 Ejiiscopalians and Nonconformists, he was at the same time em- 
 jiloying his thoughts and his heart on a subject of much delicac}- 
 and tenderness, and that was his marriage. On September U», 
 1062, just a fortnight after the dark and l.'lack IJartbolomew's day, 
 lie was married in Bennet Fink Church in Cheapside, by Mr Sa-
 
 DAXTi:]; ^ LIKE. xvu 
 
 Tinit'.l Clark, to Miss JIarsaiet Charlton. Baxter was now forty- 
 seven years of age, and iliss Charlton was about t^^■enty-th^■ee. It 
 li!id always been a jiart of his ereed, tiiat for ministers to marry was 
 oidy barely lawful. All these things made his marriage notorious. 
 •■ Tlie king's marriage," he says, " was scarcely more talked of 
 than mine." Two things brought Miss Charlton under the special 
 notice of Daxtcr ; she was born Tsithin three miles of his o^^ti native 
 '. illage, anil, on her removal with her mother to Kidderminster, his 
 ministry was the moans of her conversion. Notwithstanding the 
 inequality in their ages, he saj'S that " the many strange occur- 
 rences ■vfhieh brought it to pass, would take away the wonder of 
 her friends and mine" — but " in her ease and mine there was muck 
 that was extraordinary, what it doth not concern the world to be 
 acquainti^d with." The terms on which Baxter proposed marriage, 
 and which Jtliss Charlton accepted, are these : First, '• That I should 
 have nothing that before our marriage was hers ; that I, who wanted 
 no earthly supplies, might not seem to marry her for covetousness. 
 •Secondly, That she would so alter her affairs that I might be en- 
 tangled in no lawsuits. Tb.irdly, That she would expect none of 
 my time which my ministerial work should require." They were 
 " married in the Lord," and he found in her a help-meet for him, 
 sometimes his fellow prisoner, and always the helper to his joy. 
 
 Oil .Tune 1, 1663, Slicldon became Archbishop of Canterbiuy, a 
 man of deep craftiness, of dexterous ability, and of unrelenting ma- 
 lignity against the Nonconformists ; and, consequently, their suffer- 
 ings were greatly aggravated on his accession to the primacy, espe- 
 cially through the severity of his act against private meetings. 
 This law put all public service at an end. Baxter resolved to leave 
 London ; and he says, " I betook myself to live in the country, at 
 Acton, that I might set myself to writing, and do what service I 
 could for posterity, and live as much as I possibly could out of the 
 world. Thither I went on the 14th of July 1663, where I followed 
 my studies privately in quietness." Here he attended the church in 
 one iKirt of the day, and preached in his own house at another. 
 Here also he finished some of his best works, especially his " Chris- 
 tian Directory." On March 26, 1665, he was nearly being shot 
 dead. Wliile he was preaching and administering the Lord's Sup- 
 l)i'r, a bullet came in at the window, and passed close by him, but 
 did him no hurt. The villain who had attempted to murder liini 
 was never discovered. 
 
 Towards the close of 1 655 ^he Plague made its appearance in 
 Jjondon, amidst all the troubles of a war with Holhmd. Baxter 
 seems to have regarded this as a visitation upon England for the 
 wickedness of the Corporation Act which had lately passed. He
 
 XVIU BAXTEK S LIFK. 
 
 says, — " From London the plague is spread through many coxmties, 
 especially next London, wliere few places, especially corporutiojis, 
 are free ; which makes me oft groan, and wish that London, and all 
 the Corporations of England, would review the Couporation Act, 
 and their own acts, and speedily repent." ^Vhile Baxter was pen- 
 ning this nohle sentiment, he was at Hampden, in Buckinghamshire, 
 in the house of his beloved friend, Mr Richard Hampden, " the true 
 heir of his famous father's sincerity, piety, anddevotednessto God." 
 Here he continued while the plague raged about London. 
 
 It is probable that Nonconformity and Religious Liberty in Eng- 
 land owe more to the Plague, and to the Fire of London, than to 
 any other two causes in the providence of God. " When the 
 plague grew hot," says Baxter, " most of the conformable minis- 
 ters fled, and left their flocks in the time of their extremity ; where- 
 upon divers Nonconformists, pitving the dj-ing and distressed people, 
 when about ten thousand died in a week, resolved that no obedience 
 to the laws of mortal man whatever could justify them in neglecting 
 men's souls and bodies in such extremities. They therefore re- 
 solved to stay with the people, and to go into the forsaken pulpits, 
 though prohibited ; and also to visit the sick and the dj-ing, and to 
 get what relief they could for the i)oor, especially those that were 
 shut up." Yet while those noble and generous men were thus la- 
 bouring in the very domain of death, and at the post which the 
 hireling clergy had forsaken, Sheldon and Clarendon were forging 
 the chains of the Five Mile Act to stop all their efforts. When the 
 Plague ceased at Acton in March 166G, Baxter returned home, and 
 " found the church-yard like a ploughed field with graves, and many 
 of his neighbours dead." 
 
 The next mysterious Providence which promoted religious liberty 
 was the great Fire of London. It broke out at midnight, September 
 2, 1666. Baxter says, that " it was set on iirc," and he believed 
 that the agents in this awfid destruction " of one of the faii'cst cities 
 in the world " were the Papists. Whether the suspicion be true or 
 not, the report, and the connnon belief of it, shew in what degree of 
 detestation all Papists were held in that age. After the fire, as well 
 as during the iilague, the religious condition of the Londoners was 
 equally wretched and destitute, as far as the conforming clergj' were 
 concerned. AVhen the churches were Inirnt, the parish ministers 
 all departed, as if they had no ministry for the souls of men, except 
 within the walls of churches. At this season, again, the generous 
 Nonconformists came forth to the work of the ministry, with a dis- 
 interestedness and a diligence, that should have shamed their rivals 
 and opi)ressors. 'i'his was the birth-season of dissenting chajiels ; 
 for the ministers now prepared lai'ge i-oonis, and " plain chajicls \vith
 
 baxtek's life. xix 
 
 pulpits, seats, and galleries, for the reception of as many as would 
 eome :" and, says Uaxter, " many of the citizens went to those 
 meetings called private, more than went to the public parish churches." 
 These magnanimous labours produced a fresh rumour about a "com- 
 prehension," and libert)' of conscience ; but the clergy opposed every 
 effort for the restitution of the Nonconformists, and continued to 
 refuse them all toleration till the fall of the wily Clarendon. 
 
 On the rise of the Duke of Buckingham, the preaching of the 
 Nonconformists was connived at, "so that the people went openly to 
 hear them without fear" — "and they did the like in most parts of 
 England." In the mean time, Baxter was busily engaged at Acton 
 with his illustrious friend Judge Hale in arranging the heads of a new 
 scheme of Comprehension. While Judge Hale and Baxter were 
 thus employed, the inqiusitorial Sheldon addressed a circular letter 
 to all the Bishops, requesting them to give an account of all the 
 conventicles in their diocese. The result was, that many muiisters 
 were imprisoned; and one of Sheldon's iii-st victims was Baxter. 
 Information was laid against him by his neighbour, one Colonel 
 Phillips, for preaching in his own house at Acton, and he had to 
 appear before the magistrates at Brentford. These, after treating 
 him rudely and insultingly, sent hun to Clerkenwell prison, " where," 
 saj'S Baxter, " I had an honest jailer, who shewed me all the kind- 
 ness he could." Mrs Baxter went to prison with her husband ; 
 and he says, " My wife was never so cheerful a companion to me as 
 in prison, and was very much against my seeking to be released." 
 From this prison he was liberated by a Habeas Corpus, but M'itli an 
 ohitam dictum of the Judge that it was not on account of his inno- 
 cence, but merely because of a flaw iu the mittimus. 
 
 On his release, he found that his position was more difficult than 
 he had apprehended ; for the Five Mile Act prevented him from 
 returning to Acton, where he had a house of large rent ; and that his 
 enemies among the magistrates had made a fresh and a more accurate 
 mittimus to send him to Newgate " among thieves and murderers^-," 
 he felt, therefore, tliat he must at any cost leave Jliddlesex. 
 
 His next place of abode was Totteridge, near Bamet, where he 
 lived in " a few mean rooms, which were so extremely smoky, and 
 the place withal so cold, that he spent the winter with great pain." 
 It was during his stay at Totteridge that he had his controversy 
 with Dr Owen ; that Lauderdale offered to make him a Scottish 
 Bishop, or a Scottish Triucipal of one of tlie Universities ; that he 
 wrote a great part of his " Met/todiis Theohg'ue ;" that he lost a great 
 part of his property through the bankruptcy of the King's Exchequer ; 
 tiiat he aided Lord Orrery in forming the " Healing Measure," which 
 failed ; and tliat he availed liimseif of the King's " Dispensing De-
 
 XX B.V.XTF.KS LIFE. 
 
 cLsration " to recommence preacliing. Trusting in the. word of a king, 
 lie removed to London, and preached as one of the lecturers at 
 Tinners' Hall, lie says: "On the 19th of November (1G72), 
 r.iy baptism day, was tlie first dav, after ten years' silence, that I 
 preached in a tolerated assembly." On Jannaiy 1G73, he began a 
 Tuesday lecture at Mr Turner's church in New Street, Fetter Lane, 
 but " never took a penny of money for it from any one." lie had 
 also a lecture at St James' Markct-IIouse. In this neighbourhood 
 his ministry was veiy extensively useful, though it was now illegal ; 
 having been made so by the circumstance that the Parliament had 
 annulled the King's Dispensing Declaration, and had passed the 
 Test Act. Informations were again laid against him, in which an 
 Alderman of London, a Sir Thomas Davies, figures as a beast of 
 prey seeking whom he might devour, who distrained his goods for 
 fifty pounds for preaching his lecture in New Street. 
 
 In consequence of the dangerous state of his place of preaching at 
 St James's, his friends pressed him to obtain another place, and 
 Oxenden chaiwl was built for him by their liberality. " Jlr Henry 
 Coventry, one of his ilajcsty's jirincipal secretaries, who had a 
 house joining to it, and was a member of parliament, spake twice 
 against it in the Parliament, but no one seconded him." Here he was 
 incessantly worried by his ])ersecutors. "I was so long wearied," 
 he says, " with keeping my doors shut against them that came to 
 distrain my goods for preaching, that I was fain to go from my 
 house, and to sell all my good's, and to hide my library first, and 
 after»vards to sell it ; so that, if books had been my treasure (and I 
 valued little more on earth), I had now been without a treasure. 
 For about twelve years, I was driven a hundred miles from them ; 
 and when 1 had paid dear for the carriage, after two or three years 
 I was forced to sell them." As an illustration of his dangers at Ox- 
 enden Chapel, he gives the following account of ilr Seddon, who was 
 to preach for him during his absence in the country: " I had left 
 word that if he would but step into my house through a door, he 
 was in no danger ; they not having power to break open any but the 
 meeting-house. While he was preaching, tliree justices, supi)osed of 
 Secretary Coventry's sending, came to the door to seize the preacher. 
 They thought it liad Ijcen I, and had prei)ared a warrant upon the 
 Oxford Act to send me for six weeks to the common jail." 
 
 After the silence of a whole year, he opened another place of 
 preaching in tlio parish of St Martin. In the spring of 1676, 
 Charles, utterly heedless of the " word of a Christian king" given 
 at IJreda, urged .ill the judges and magistrates to jiiit the laws against 
 Nonconformists in strict execution, yet Paxter recommenced preacli- 
 ing at a chapel in Swallow Street, while his own stood empty, at tlie
 
 BAXTKi: ri LIFE. XXI 
 
 expense to him of thirty poiuids a-year for ground rent. A fresli 
 waiTant was issued against liim, ami for twenty-four SaLLaths con- 
 stables and beadles watched the cliapel door to apprehend him. 
 
 On the 14th of June 1G81, I'axter sustained tlic irreparalile loss 
 of his excellent and heroic wife, i^hc was buried in C'hristcliureli, 
 and Howe preaehed her funeral sermon. Her husband praised her 
 in the gates, and in the sketch of her character says, " She was the 
 meetest helper that I could have hud in the world." She was only 
 forty wlien she died. 
 
 On August 24, 16S'2, he preaehed his last sermon in New 
 Street, " just that day twenty years tliat I, and near two thousand 
 more, had been by law Torliidden to preach." " I took tliat day 
 leave of the pulpit and public work in a tliaukful congregation." 
 " Wlien I had ceased preaching, and was nearly risen from ex- 
 tremity of pain, I was suddenly surprised by a poor, violent in- 
 former, and many constables and officers, who rushed in, appre- 
 hended me. and served on me one warrant to seize my person for 
 <'Oining within five miles of a corporation, and five more warrants 
 to diiitrain for a hundred and ninety pounds for five sermons." In 
 this state he aeeompanicd them to the magistrate to be sent to jail, 
 but his jihysician meeting him, made oath that he could not go to 
 prison without danger of death. The magistrates represented the 
 aflair to the King, and Charles consented that he should not be sent 
 to prison for the present, that he might die at home. They, how- 
 ever, seized his books and goods, and even the bed which he lay 
 sick on, and sold them all. " I had no remedy but utterly to for- 
 sake my house and goods and all, and take secret lodgings at a dis- 
 tance, in a stranger's liouse." 
 
 In 1G84 he suffered similar treatment. " ^Vliile I lay in pain 
 and languishing, the justices of tlie session sent warrants to appre- 
 hend me, about a tliousand more being in catalogue to be bound to 
 their good beliaviour. I refused to oj)en my chamber door to them, 
 their warrant not being to break it open ; but they set six officers 
 at my study door, who watched all night, and kept me from my bed 
 and food ; so that the next day I jnelded to them, who carried me, 
 scaroe able to st^ind, to tiie sessions, and bound me in four hundred 
 pounds." 
 
 Early in 1685 appeared his New Testament with Notes, and on 
 February 28 he was coniniitted to prison on a warr'ant from Judge 
 Jefl'eries, on account of some sentiments in his Paraphrase. (>n 
 the 18th of May, it was moved that, on account of Jiis great bodily 
 pains, fe.rther time might be given him before his trial. Judge 
 Jefr«rics said, " I will not give him a minute's time more to sava 
 his life. Yonder stands Oatcs in tlic pillory, and he says he suffers
 
 xxii b.vxtek's life. 
 
 for the truth, and so says Baxter ; but if Baxter did but stand on 
 tlie other side of the pillory \rith him, I -vvould say, two of the 
 greatest rogues and rascals in the kingdom stood there." The trial 
 came on at Guildhall on May 30, before Jefl'eries. Over every 
 seat on which this ermined ruffian ever sat might be inscribed, " By 
 appointment, Butcher to the Royal Family." When Baxter's counsel 
 was defending him, Jefferies said, " This is an old rogue, who has 
 poisoned the world with his Kidderminster doctrine. Au old 
 schismatical knave, a hj-pocritical villain. Hang him, this one old 
 fellow hath cast more reproach upon the constitution and discipline 
 of our church than will be wiped ofl' this hundred years; but 111 
 
 handle him for it ; for, by G , he deserves to be whipped through 
 
 the city." When Baxter attempted to explain and vindicate him- 
 self, JelTeries said to him, " Richard, Richard, dost thou think 
 we'll hear thee poison the court? Richard, thou art an old fellow, 
 an old knave ; thou has written books enough to load a cart, every 
 one is full of sedition, I might say treason, as an egg is full of meat. 
 Hadst thou been whii)ped out of thy writing ti-ade forty years ago, 
 it had been happy. Thou hast one foot in the grave ; it is time for 
 thee to begin to think what account thou iutendest to give. But 
 leave thee to thyself, and I see thou'lt go on as thou hast begun ; 
 but, by the grace of God, I'll look after thee." After Jelieries 
 had charged the jury in a most un-English and outrageous manner, 
 Baxter said, " Does your Lordship think that any jury will jire- 
 tend to pass a verdict upon mc upon such a trial?" The ruffian 
 replied, " I'll warrant you, Mr Baxter, don't you trouble your 
 head about that." JclVeries was right, for without quitting the box, 
 the jury found him " guilty." At this trial Sir Henry Ashurst, 
 the son of Baxter's old and falthfiJ friend, acted nobly, led the ve- 
 nerable and injured friend of his father through the crowd, and con- 
 veyed him home in his own carriage. Baxter applied in vain to tlie 
 Bishop of London to use liis influence to obtain a new trial, or a 
 milder judgment than was likely to be awarded to liim by Jefferies. 
 On the 20th of June his judgment was pronounced. He was to be 
 fined live Iiiindred pounds, to lie in prison till he paid it, and to be 
 bound to his good behaviour for seven years. Tliis award was 
 one of the first acts of James II., who had ascended the throne on 
 the 6th of February. The prosecution was promoted by the efforts 
 of L'Lstrange, a name of some rank among the learned men of his 
 day. Every thing contributed to render the trial of Baxter 
 a Inirning stigma on the royalty, law, and literature of England. 
 
 Baxter resolved to go to prison, for ho could not pay the fine ; 
 and even if he paid it, it was lilccly he would soon bo prosecuted 
 again. In prison he was visited by some of the clergy, who lamented
 
 BAXTEK S LIFE, XXlll 
 
 liis nnjrst vcrilict. lie continued in his prison nearly hvo years, 
 when Lord Powis used his influence at Court to procure his release. 
 He left the prison on Xovcmber 24, 1686. As a favour, Kinpj 
 •Tames allowed hira to live in London, notwithstanding the Oxford 
 Act ; and havinf^ lived for some months within the rules of the King's 
 Bench, he removed on February 28 to Charterhouse Yard, and re- 
 newed his pulpit labours in company -with Mr Sylvester. 
 
 In these stirring times, Baxter's age, sufferings, infirmities, and 
 persecutions, prevented him from taking much interest in the agita- 
 tions and changes which were taking place around him. Neither 
 James' downfall, nor the glorious Revolution of 1688, seems to have 
 dra-ivn forth any remark from his pen or his pulpit. The last mea- 
 sure of legislation in which Baxter acted any part, was the Act of 
 Toleration passed by William and j\Iary, which placed all Noncon- 
 formists under the shield of tlie British constitution. The last re- 
 ligious movement in which he interested himself, was the Bond of 
 Agreement which was formed between the Presbyterians and Inde- 
 pendents of London, memorable as commencing the name of Pres- 
 b}-terians, properly so called, ia England. 
 
 In Charterhouse Square he lived near Mr Sylvester's meeting- 
 house, where he preached gratuitously on Sunday mornings, and once 
 a fortnight on Thursday mornings. After spending four years and a 
 half in these engagements, he gave them up, and " opened his doors 
 morning and evening every day " to all who would join him in fa- 
 mily worship. Eventually his gro'wing infirmities constrained him 
 to give up this engagement, and confined him to his own chamber. 
 " He continued to preach," says Dr Bates, " so long, notmthstand- 
 ing his wasted, languishing body, that the last time ho almost died 
 in the pulpit. It would doubtless have been his joy to have been 
 transfigured in the mount. Not long after, he felt the approaches 
 of death, and was confined to his sick-bed. He said to his friends, 
 ' You come hither to learn to die ; I am not the only person that 
 must go this way. I can assure you that your whole life, be it ever 
 so long, is little enough to prepare for death.' After a slumber ho 
 waked and said, ' I shall rest from my labour.' A minister then 
 present said, ' and your works shall follow yoii.' To whom he 
 replied, ' No works : I will leave out works, if God \\ill grant me 
 tlie other.'" 
 
 Wlien a friend reminded him of his past usefulness, he said, " I 
 wxs but a pen in God's hands, and what praise is due to a pen ? " 
 In the extremity of his agonies ho would sometimes pray earnestly 
 to God for a speedy release, an<l then he would check liimself and 
 say, " It is not fit for me to prescribe ; when thou wilt, what thou 
 wilt, how thou wilt." lie was once asked how he felt in his in-
 
 XXIV BAXTKK S JIIXISTKY. 
 
 ovarii man, and lils reply was, " I bless God I have a weli-grouii(U'(l 
 assurance of my eternal happiness, and preat peace and coniioit 
 within." On the day before his death, Ur Bates and Mr Mather of 
 New England visited him. To them he expressed his trrcat willin;:- 
 ness to die ; and when the question was asked, " How he did ? " his 
 answer was, " Almost well." This was on a Monday, and he had 
 fully expected and hoped that he should have died on the preceding 
 ^fimday, which to Mr t^ylvester he called " a high day," in the 
 ( xpcctation of his joyful change, lie languished through Monday, 
 and on Tuesday, December 8, 1C91, about four o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, he had his last conflict with disease, languished into hfe, and 
 tlie "llcformed I'astor" found himself ia the "Saints' Everlasting 
 Kest." 
 
 His body was interred in Qu-ist Cliurch, •with the body of h'\& 
 wife. Men of all ranks, and ministers of Nonconfonnist and of Con- 
 formist orders attended his funeral. Two fimeral sermons were 
 preached for him ; one by his colleague, Mr Sylvester, and t!ie other 
 by his friend Dr Bates, both of wliich were published. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 n A X T E U ' S M I M S T K Y. 
 
 K Whitei'Ield is properly called the prince of preachers, Bax- 
 TEK deserves to be ranked as the prince of pastors. The Holy 
 Spirit made him a model pastor, and in the ecclesiastical hihtory of 
 England, since the Kefornuition, no name can be mentioned as be- 
 ing his equal in the pastorship. To form an adequate conception 
 of his pastoral character, it is necessary first to read his own ideal of 
 a Christian minister in his " Gildas Salvianus, or Keformed I'astor,"' 
 and then to see his working out of that i(le;il in the " Rcliquia; Bjix- 
 tcrianyt'," where he recounts his plans and methods of pastoral toil at 
 Kiddernnnstcr. 
 
 Baxter commenced his ministry as a Conformist. His family, 
 though inclined to Puritanism, were all Conformists, and so were 
 all his connexions. The whole of his theological readuig had been 
 .-igainst Nonconformity. AVhen he was about twenty years of age, 
 l.e became acquainteil with several able Xonconformist divines in 
 .'^hrollshire, and especially with the Ilev. \\'alter Cradock, the 
 apostle of Nonconformity in North Wales. In their society he 
 fuiuiJ an atmosphere which was refreshing to every thing devout,
 
 i;axti;hs vimstuy. tlw 
 
 uneartlily and holy, in his own mind. Tlie fervid piety, the serioua 
 conversation, and the lofty devotion of those men raised them very 
 highly in his esteem, and the prosecutions which they suffered 
 kindled his indignation against the hierarchy that oppressed them ; 
 but neither the holy character of the Shropshire Puritans, nor th<; 
 persecuting disposition of the prelates, produced in him any scruples 
 about conforming. To be a minister, he must be episcopally or- 
 dained ; to be ordained, he must subscribe the Articles and the 
 Liturgy — and to subscribe consent and assent to them he had n<> 
 hesitation, because, says he, " I had never once read the Book of 
 Ordination." In 1638, he was ordained at Worcester by Bishoi> 
 Thomborough, The first sermon he ever preached was in the 
 Upper Church at Dudley, while he was head master of the grammar 
 school there. He laboured in that town as a preacher for about a> 
 year, but without any pastoral relation to the people. 
 
 The next scene of his ministry was Bridgenorth, a town at that 
 time full of public houses. He preached here for nearly two years 
 to large congi-egations of ignorant and besotted people, with very 
 few instances of success, and with many discouragements. It is 
 still reported in Bridgenorth that when he preached his farewell ser- 
 mon to the people, he remarked that their hearts were as hard as 
 the sandstone rock on which their church is built. It was at Bridge- 
 north that he became a Nonconformist. When, in 1640, regal 
 tyranny and prelatical madness imposed upon the clergy the noto- 
 rious Et Cactera Oath ; * binding all the ministers of truth and liberty 
 nerer to change their opinions concerning bishops, deans, &c., its 
 ridiculous and wicked pretensions were carefully examined by the 
 Salopian Conformists assembled at Bridgenorth. After this discus- 
 sion, Baxter resolved that he would not subscribe the oath, and 
 that he would honestly and manfully investigate the claims of Pre- 
 lacy. He read witli diligence and candour the works of distin- 
 guished and learned Nonconformists, as well as those of able Epis- 
 copalians, and he came to the conclusion that Diocesan Epis- 
 copacy was of unscriptural origin, opposed to the simplicity of 
 primitive pastorship, and subversive of scriptural discipline and 
 order in the church. The Et Cretera Oath produced many results 
 favourable to the progress of Nonconformity, and among its ct 
 cjetera consequences one was the Prcsbyterianism of Baxter. 
 
 On April 5, 1641, Baxter was appointed lecturer at Kidder- 
 minster. His removal to this town was brought about partly by 
 the parliament, and partly by the people. The clergy, iu every 
 
 * One part of the oath ran thus — " Xor «ill I ever give my conseut 
 to alter the government of tliis ehurch hy arelibishi'i)S. hishojis, dt-.-iU', 
 ami arthO.eriions, &c., as it stanUs now cstablishcJ, a:iU ought to stand."
 
 ixvl Baxter's mixistkt. 
 
 part of the coiinhy, -(verc so ignorant and dissolute, that the parlia- 
 ment appointed a committee to enquire into the religious state of the 
 country, and to hear the complaints and the petitions of the people 
 against their ministers. Tlie inhabitants of Kidderminster availed 
 themselves of this arrangement, and presented a petition against the 
 Rev. Mr Dance, their minister, who was a drunkard, and who 
 preached only once a quarter. This petition resulted in the com- 
 mittee's invitation to Baxter to talce the lectureship, which was 
 seconded by an afTcctionatc letter from the people of the town. 
 
 Kidderminster had many attractions for Baxter : the town was 
 large, and afforded an adequate sphere for his commanding talents ; 
 the people were generally of a profligate character, for which his 
 fervid and rousing preaching was well adapted ; and, among the 
 i)ihabitants, there were a few who were sighing for the abominations 
 of the place, and who would cheerfully welcome and further the 
 efforts of a holy minister to do good. He commenced his ministiy 
 among them by preaching for one Sunday on probation, and was 
 then cordially chosen by the people as their lecturer. He spent 
 here two years, which proved, in the arrangement of Providence, 
 a kind of disciplinary novitiate to his remarkable labours there 
 at a subsequent period. His first labours at Kidderminster were 
 interrupted and blasted by the unhaiip}- rupture between Giarles I. 
 and the Parliament. ^Mien the first rumours of a civil war were 
 heard in the moans of an o))pressed people, Baxter began to deve- 
 lope some of the mental characteristics which marked the subse- 
 quent history of his life ; for he sided with neither party, but found 
 fault with both. This was not from timidity ; much less was it 
 from compromise ; but it was from his sincere desire to secure and 
 promote peace on earth and good will among men. All the writ- 
 ings of Piaster demonstrate that he was a firm and thorough friend 
 to the cause of the parliament ; and that though ho was loyal to 
 the monarchy and the throne, he detested the consummate and 
 heartless duplicity of Charles. All this the people of Kidderminster 
 believed and knew ; and, therefore, when the king's declaration was 
 one day being proclaimed at the market-place, just wliile Baxter 
 was passing by, the officer who read it exclaimed, " there goes a 
 traitor." The rabble, who already hated liim on account of his 
 serious and faithful preaching, responded immediately and heartily, 
 " Down with the roundheads" — and then directed their march in 
 pursuit of him, with the resolution to take away his life. As the 
 town of Kidderminster, and indeed nearly every town in Worcester- 
 shire were ojicnly for the king, Baxter was advised to quit the place 
 and retire from the county altogether. 
 
 In the sketch of his life given in the preceding chapter, his re-
 
 BAXTEUS MIXISTUV. XXvii 
 
 tiremont to Gloucester — his brief return to Kiddcrminstor — liis 
 ))rcacliinp' at Alcester on the Sunday tliat the battle of Edychill was 
 fought — his first year at Coventry — his two months' sojourn at 
 Shropshire at the siege of Weni — and his second year at Coventry, 
 have been recorded. In all these wanderings lie was ever faithful 
 to the work of the ministry, preaching whenever he could and 
 wliercvcr he might— sometimes in towns, and sometimes in villages 
 and rural hamlets ; now to soldiers in garrison, and anon to pea- 
 sants in the highways and hedges. His village labours were car- 
 ried on amidst many dangers, and especially at the hazard of appre- 
 hension and imprisonment. As an instance of the state of the 
 times, and as a memorial of the interposition of Providence in 
 his behalf, the following anecdote is introduced on the authority 
 of the Congregational Magazine.* 
 
 The report is, that during Baxter's residence at Coventry, seve- 
 ral of the Nonconformist ministers of that city united with him in 
 preaching a lecture at a private house, on a neighbouring common. 
 ■' The time of worship was generally a very early hour. Jlr Bax- 
 ter left Coventry in the evening, intending to preach the lecture 
 the following morning. The night being dark, he lost his wav ; 
 and, after wandering about a considerable time, he came to a gentle- 
 man's house, where he asked for direction. The servant who came 
 to the door informed his master that a person of very respectable 
 appearance had lost his way. The gentleman, thinking it would be 
 unsafe for such a person to be wandering on the common at so late 
 an hour, requested the servant to invite him in. Mr Baxter readilv 
 accepted the kind proposal, and met with a very hospitable reeej)- 
 tion. His conversation was such as to give his host an exalted idea 
 of his good sense, and his extensive information. The gentleman, 
 ■wishing to know the quality of his guest, said, after supper, ' as most 
 persons have some cmplojnnent or profession in life, I have no 
 doubt, sir, that you have yours.' ^Ir l?axter replied, with a smile, 
 ' Yes, sir, I am a man catcher.' ' A man catcher,' said the gen- 
 tleman, ' are you ? I am very glad to hear you say so, for you are 
 the very jKrson 1 want. I am a Justice of the Peace in this district, 
 and am commissioned to secure the person of Dick Baxter, who is 
 ex])Peted to preach at a conventicle in this neighbourhood early tt)- 
 movrow morning; you shall go with me, and, I doubt not, we shall 
 easily apprehend the rogue.' Mr Baxter very prudently consented 
 to accompany him. 
 
 '• .Vccordingly, the gentleman, on the following morning, took 
 Mr I'axtcr in his carriage to the place where the meeting was to b»- 
 
 • Congr. M:ig. toI. iii.
 
 xxvm BAXTERS jnxrsTRY. 
 
 held. '^^Tien they arrived at the spot, thoysa-w a cor.siderahle num- 
 ber of people hovering about ; for seeing the carriage of the Justice, 
 and suspecting his intentions, they were afraid to enter the house. 
 The . Justice, observing this, said to Mr Ikxter — ' I am afraid that 
 they have obtained some information of my design ; Baxter has 
 probably been apprised of it, and therefore will not fulfil his en- 
 gagement ; for you see the people will not go into the house. I 
 think, if we extend our ride a little farther, our departure may 
 encourage them to assemble, and on our return we may fulfil our 
 commission.' When they returned, they found their efforts useless, 
 for the people still appeared unwilling to assemble. 
 
 " The magistrate, thinking he should be disappointed of the 
 object he had in view, observed to his companion, tliat, as the 
 people were very much disaffected to Government, he would bo 
 much obliged to him to address them on the subject of loyalty and 
 good behaviour. Mr IJaxter replied, that perhaps this would not 
 be deemed sufficient ; for, as a religious service was the object for 
 which they were met together, they would not be satisfied with 
 advice of that nature : but, if the magistrate would begin with 
 prayer, he would then endeavour to say something to them. The 
 gentleman replied, putting his hand to his pocket, ' Indeed, sir, I 
 have not got my prayer book with me, or I would readily comply 
 with your proposal. However, I am persuaded that a person of 
 your appearance and respectability would be able to pray with them 
 as well as to talk to them. I beg, therefore, that you will be so 
 good as to begin with prayer.' Tiiis being agreed to, they alighted 
 from the carriage and entered the iioase, and the people, hesitating 
 no longer, immediately followed tiiem. 
 
 Mr Daxter tlicn commenced the service, and prayed with that 
 seriousness and fervour for which he was so eminent. The magis- 
 trate, standing by, was soon melted into tears. The good divine 
 then preaclied in iiis accustomed lively and zealous manner. Wlien 
 he had concluded, he turned to the Justice and said, ' Sir, I am the 
 very Dick IJAXXEii of whom you arc in pursuit. I am entirely at 
 your disposal.' The magistrate, however, had felt so much during the 
 service, and saw things in so different a light, that he laid aside all liis 
 enmity to the Nonconformists, and ever afterwards became tlieir sin- 
 cere friend and advocate, and it is lielieved also a decided Christian." 
 
 I'axter commenced his ministry in Coventry on the condition that 
 he should neither lje obliged to take a commission in the army nor lie 
 appointed a chaplain to a regiment. His duties were to preach 
 once a-wcek to the soldiers, and once on the i^abbaths to the town's 
 peopl*!. For liis labours lie took no rennmeration but his diet. In 
 this garrison he ibllowcd his studies, he s:iys, " as quietly as in the
 
 BAXTEU.S MIXISTFiY. XXlX 
 
 time of peace." After the battle of Xasoliy, foucjlit wliilc he was at 
 Coveutry, liis scruples to join the army gave way Iwl'ore what ho 
 licard ami saw on visiting Cromwi'll's troops near Leicester, lie 
 I'ound that the church ia the army was a different thing from the 
 uliurch amid citizens and peasantry. He was astonished and 
 grieved to hear civil and religious liberty openly, freely, a:id man- 
 fully discussed by tlie soldiers. " I heard," he says, " the plotting 
 heads hot upon that which intimated their intention to subvert 
 Church and State ;'' and these were Cromwell's chief fiivourites, and 
 they were the soul of the army, though in number they were only 
 as one to twenty. Several officers pressed him to join the army, 
 and after consulting his ministerial friends in Coventry, and obtain- 
 ing the reluctant consent of the city garrison to release him, he 
 joined it as chaplain to Colonel Whalley's regiment. Among his 
 friends in the garrison, he said expressly that he attached himself to 
 the army for the purpose of doing his best against its sectarian 
 tendencies. On hearing him, Colonel L'urefoy said very magisterially, 
 " Let me hear no more of that. If Nor, Ckomwei.l should hear 
 any soldier but speak such a word, he would cleave his cro^vn." 
 
 On joining the army, he was introduced to Cromwell, who 
 received him very coolly, and never afterwards conversed ^vith him, 
 nor was he ever allowed an opportunity to attend the meetings of 
 the officers at head quarters. It is not unlikely that Colonel I'nre- 
 foy had communicated Baxter's designs to Cromwell, and this was 
 the reason of the coolness ; but anotlicr fact might also be in the 
 recollection of Cromwell which woidd induce him to treat the divine 
 with some reserve. AVhen Cromwell lay at Cambridge, he collected 
 his first troop of Ironsides, which he and his officers tried to form into 
 a eluirch ; that is, a troop of church members, a literally militant 
 church, or fighting congregation. This troop invited Baxter, while 
 at Coventry, to become its pastor. In reply, he not only declined 
 tiieir invitation, but rebuked them for their constitution, and for 
 their designs. This peevish denial and ill-timed reproof are enough 
 to account for the coolness with which he was received by the army. 
 
 His ministry in the army was an utter failure. He was too belli- 
 gerent in polemic theology, and too much of a field-marshal in logic, 
 to maintain successfully a ministry of peace among soldiers, and espe- 
 cially among the independent Ironsides. In his ministerial labours, 
 he set himself to discover the ecclesiastical corrnjitions of the soldiers 
 — disputed with the troops upon all points, political as well as religi- 
 ous — contended against all varieties of opinions among them, whether 
 Antiuoniianism, Arminianism, or Quakerism and Anabajitism, but 
 es]iecially against Voluntarjism. In describing the army, lie says, 
 " The most frequent and vehement disputes were for liberty of
 
 •XXX BAXTER .S MIXISTRT. 
 
 conscience, as they called it ; that is, that the civil magistrate had 
 nothing to do to determine matters of religion bv constraint or 
 restraint." With the leaders of these heroes of freedom, Eaxtcr 
 ivonld dispute in the hearing of the rest, to try to make tliem the 
 laughing-stock of the troops. The consequence was, that he was 
 hoth bitterly scorned and cautiously avoided. It is due to these, 
 lirst and noble disciples of liberty of conscience to record, that the 
 failure of his ministry among them was to be traced more to the 
 controversial tendencies of his own mind than to the military habits 
 of the soldiers. To this fact he gives himself a candid and an honest 
 j testimony. " Many of those honest soldiers who were tainted but 
 •with some doubts about liberty of conscience or independency, were 
 men who would discourse of the points of sanctification and Chris- 
 tian experience very seriously." As a proof of the manner in wliicli 
 lie was treated and avoided in the army, he saj-s — "All the two 
 years that I was in the army, even my old bosom friend who Jiad 
 lived in my house, and been dearest to me, James Eorry, then 
 Captain, after Colonel and Major, the Lord of tlie Upper House, 
 who had formerly invited me to Cromwell's old troop, did never 
 once invite me to the army at fu-st, nor invite me to his quarters, 
 nor ever once come to visit me, or ever saw me, save twice or 
 thrice that we met by accident." 
 
 After many marches and counter-marches with the army lur two 
 years, and after many attacks of disease, through which it is not 
 necessary now to follow him, he settled at Kidderminster, much to 
 the joy of his jieople, and much to the honour of his own immortal 
 character. 
 
 Baxter's settlement at Kidderminster was the greatest honour that 
 Clod ever conferred on that picturesque town. His pastorsliip there, 
 will be had in everlasting remembrance, when the skill and the 
 wealth produced by its peculiar manufactory will be forgotten for 
 ever. As a model pastor, his character deserves to be known, studied, 
 and imitated, yea, if possible, surpassed. To form a proper estimate 
 of his pastoral labours, it is necessary to know the character of tlie 
 inhabitants before he settled among them, the state of his health amid 
 his numerous labours, the various plans of usefulness wliich he 
 adopted, the amount of his success, and the peculiar advantages 
 which lu! had for carrying on his operations. 
 
 'J'lie character of the inhabitants of Kidderminster, at tlic period 
 of his settlement, was as degraded and as unpromising as an incom- 
 petent and profligate clergy could make it. 'i'he vicar of the place. 
 «lid not understand even the substance of the chatechism or creed. 
 His preaching consisted in scrajjing together, once a quarter, "a few 
 words which lie so said over as to move jiity in hi.-: auditois." At-
 
 li.VXTElt.S MIMSTItY. XXil 
 
 taclied to the parish there was a chapel, which was supplied by au 
 old fiirate as ignorant as his vicar. This curate i^ot his living liy 
 celebrating unlawful marriages. " I knew not," says Baxter, " how- 
 to keep him from reading the prayers, for I judged it a sin to tole- 
 rate him in any sacred oflico." In one of the suburban districts, 
 called the Kock, there were two chapels. The curate of one of these 
 got his living by cuttuig faggots ; and the other curate by making 
 ropes, " their ability being answerable to their studies and employ- 
 ments." It is no wonder that under the ministry of such clergy the 
 whole populace of the town had become a disorderly mass and au 
 unruly rabble. The people were hostile to real religion under 
 every name and form, whether conformist or nonconfonnist. They 
 compelled Baxter to leave the town and the county to preserve his 
 life, and they resoluiely oj)posed two or three attempts which the 
 (;ongregation made to restore him. This fact in the history of 
 Kidderminster, vriM supply a salutary lesson to some ministers in 
 the present day, who, in contemplating some new sphere of la- 
 bour proposed to them, speak of it as abounding with " up-hill 
 work." If any pastor on earth had " up-hill work," Baxter had it. 
 Ba.Kter's discouragements, and Baxter's devotedness, should cancel 
 such phrase from every minister's vocabulary, for in " destroying 
 the works of the devil," he must expect difficulty, toil, and suffer- 
 ing. 
 
 tSuch was Kidderminster : and now sec the man who is going to 
 labour for Christ in it. In bodily health he seems a very Lazarus, 
 and his painfid diseases would have been by many a sufficient apo- 
 logy for doing nothing in pastoral efforts. He says, " in my la- 
 hours at Kiddcnninster, after my return, I did all under languish- 
 ing weakness, being seldom an hour free from pain. Many a tiniis 
 have I been brought very low, and received the sentence of deatli 
 in myself, when my poor, honest, praying neighbours have met ; 
 and, upon their fasting and earnest prayers, I have been recovered." 
 •• Another time, I had a tumour rose on one of the tonsils in my 
 throat, white and hard like a bone, above the hardness of any schyr- 
 iMUS tumour. I feared a cancer. This proved obstinate against 
 all remedies, when, at the end of about a quarter of a year, I was 
 checked in conscience that I had never publicly praised God par- 
 ticularly for any of the deliverances vouchsafed me." He was no'i^' 
 writing the second part of the " Saint's Kest," and while he was 
 penning the passage of gratitude to God for his mercies, " the tu- 
 mour vanished." ho says ; '" and no sign wherever it had been re- 
 mained ; nor did 1 know what went with it to this day." " Another 
 time, being in danger of an cegilops, and (to be brief) at divers 
 times, in divers weaknesses, pains, dangers, I have been delivered
 
 XiJiU B^IXTEU S ill.NISTKY. 
 
 upon earnest prayers." " After abundance of diSiempcrs and lan- 
 guishings, I fell at last into a flux hepaticiis, and after that into 
 manifold dangers necessarily too long to be cited." He had very 
 distressing headaches, and a stomach so disordered, that " a spoon- 
 ful of wine yroiild disturb him for a whole fortnight." His body 
 was indeed a body of death, a vile body, sufficient to clog any soul, 
 and to weigh dovra any common pastor. In addition to all the 
 pains endured, lot it be remembered what debilitating influence such 
 a body would have upon the mind and upon the temper, indisposing 
 the mind to Mork, and souring the temper against all pastoral in- 
 tercourse with his people. 
 
 Such was the man who regenerated ffidderminster. It is now to 
 be seen what he did, and how he did it. It was remarked at the 
 commencement of this Essay, that one purpose of its being ^vritten 
 was to interest young ministers in the pastoral character of Baxter. 
 To promote this purjiose, it is thought desirable to place the ele- 
 ments of his extensive usefulness in an adjusted order, that they 
 might be apprehended with the greatest possible distinctness. This 
 is the reason why they are arranged under separate and distinct 
 heads. 
 
 I. baxtkr's plaxs of usefulness. 
 
 The methods which he adopted for the regeneration of Kidder- 
 minster are the following :— 
 
 1. Before the wars he preached twice every Lord's day, and af- 
 terwards once a Sal)bath. 
 
 2. On Monday and Tuesday in each week, his assistant and him- 
 Belf took fourteen families between them for catechising and confer- 
 ence : Baxter taking the towni, and tlie assistant the parish. In 
 these visits he heard them recite the words of the catechism, and 
 then examined them in the meaning of it, and finally urged them to 
 practise what they knew. He spent about an hour with each family, 
 making seven liours a day. 
 
 3. He preached a lecture every Thursday morning ; and after the 
 lecture had " the company of several godly ministers, with whom 
 he spent the afternoon in the truest recreation." 
 
 4. Every Thursday evening he had Ills neighbours to meet liim 
 at his own house. On these occasions one of them repeated the 
 leading thoughts of the sermon that had been preached in the morn- 
 ins; and others i)ro])osed their dilliculties, and cases of conscience. 
 These meetings closed by one or more engaging in extempore prayer, 
 and sometimes he iiimself prayed.
 
 BAXTEK d MIXISTKT. XXXill 
 
 jj. Once a-week the young people met a few of the nicmljers more 
 privately, when they spent three hours in prayer together ; and, 
 especially on Saturday night, they met at some of their houses to 
 repeat the sermons of the last Lord's day, and to pray, and prepare 
 themselves for the morrow. 
 
 6. Once in a few weeks, Baxter and his people held, on some oc- 
 casion or other, a day of humiliation and prayer. 
 
 7. Every religious woman that was safely delivered in childbirth, 
 if able, kept a day of open thanksgiving with some of her neighbours, 
 praising God, singing psalms, and soberly feasting together. 
 
 8. On the first Wednesday m every mouth was held the monthly 
 meeting Xor parish discipline. 
 
 9. Every first Thursday in the month was the Minister's meeting 
 for discipline and disputation, and mutual conference, at which he 
 M'as " almost constant moderator ;" and for wliica lie generally pre- 
 pared a written determination. 
 
 This was indeed a week well filled up, and well spent. His only 
 time for study was Monday, after spen^iing seven hours in pastoral 
 visit ; Tuesday the same ; ^Vednesday entirely, except the iirst 
 ^Vednesday in the month; and the whole of Eriday and Satur- 
 day. When his manifold labours, liis intense sufi'erings, his labo- 
 rious preparations, are taken into consideration, his industry must 
 appear stupendous, and liis economy of time virtuously avaricious. 
 In his visitation to any district of the town, he expected to see 
 every family, and lie was resolved to have an interview widi thcr.i, 
 if possible. As an instance of this resolution, the following anecdote 
 is current in Sliropshire. In some streets, he found some families 
 so obdurate that they refused him admission, and the door was con- 
 tinued closed as long as he was known to be in the neighbourhood. 
 In such cases, his practice was, on another day, to enter some 
 friendly house which commanded a view of the door that had been 
 closed against him, and thence watch to see if the door were open 
 or on the jar ; and whenever he s;iw the door partly open, he 
 seized the opportunity, entered the house, and had rdigious con- 
 versation with the inmates. 
 
 II, liAXTKR S SCCCESS. 
 
 Having presented his plans and methods of labour, it is now pro- 
 per to notice how they worked, and to record the amount of his 
 success. In reference to his success, he says — " I have mentioned 
 my pweet and acceptable cmplovment, let me, to the praise of my 
 gracious Lord, acquaint you witli some of my success. And I will
 
 XXXIV n.VXTERS MIMSTUV. 
 
 not suppress it, though I foreknow th.at the malignant ■will imputo. 
 the mention of it to pride and ostentation ; for it is the sacrifice of 
 thanksgiving which I owe to my gracious Gud, wliich I will not 
 deny him for fear of being censui'ed as proud, lest I prove myself 
 proud indeed." 
 
 1. Plis public pi-eaching met with great acceptance. lie w;is 
 popular in the town, and even those that were so hostile to liiiu 
 before the wars, not only became tractable, but also attended his 
 ministry. 
 
 2. The congregation increased, and became so numerous that five 
 galleries were built in succession to acconnnodate the crowds that 
 attended, though the church itself was large and commodious. Even 
 at the private meetings the place was well attended. 
 
 3. No disorder was to be seen on the street on the Lord's day. 
 He says — " You might hear an hundred families singing psalms, 
 and repeating sermons, as you passed through the streets." " When 
 I came thither first, there was about one family in a street that 
 worshipped God, and called on his name ; and when I came away, 
 tlicre were some streets where there was not past {i. e. -more than) 
 one family in the side of a street that did not so." This was the 
 case even with the inns and public-houses of the town. 
 
 4. The number of his regular communicants averaged sixteen hun- 
 dred ; " of whom," he says, " there was not twelve that I had not 
 good hopes of as to their sincerity." 
 
 5. When he began personal conference with each family, and 
 catechised them, there were very few families in all the town that 
 refused to come ; and they consisted chietly of beggars and paupers 
 who lived in the outskirts of Uie town. (Scarcely a family left his 
 presence " without some tears, or seemingly serious promises of a 
 serious life." 
 
 (>. Some of the poor people liecame so versed in theological ques- 
 tions as " competently to understand the body of divinity," and 
 were able to judge in difficult controversies. " Some of them were 
 so able in prayer, that very few ministers did match them in order 
 and fulness, and apt expressions, and holy oratory, with fervency." 
 — " The temper of their minds, and tlie inuoccncy of their lives, 
 was much more laudable than their i)arts." 
 
 7. The lectures which he preached in his itinerant efforts at Wor- 
 cester, Cleobury, WiifTnall, and especially Dudley, gave him great 
 lincouragcment. At Dudley lie says, " tlie i)i)or nailers and la- 
 liourcrs would not oidy crowd the church as full as ever I had 
 seen in ]jondon, but would also hang on the windows and leads 
 without." 
 
 8. llis success among his ministerial brethren was as great r.s 
 among private Christiana. Their meetings were " never conten-
 
 LAXTICK 3 MIXISTRV. XXXV 
 
 tioiw, but always comfortable." " We took," he says, " great de- 
 lif;lit in the company of each other, so that I know that the remem- 
 brance of those (lays is pleasant both to them and me." — " When I 
 attempted to bring them all conjunctly to the work of catechizin<^ 
 and instrncting every family by itself, I found a ready consent i:i 
 most, and i)Crformance in many." 
 
 9. As Baxter became a model Pastor, the church at Kiddermin- 
 ster became a model Church to the surrounding congregations. 
 " The /cal and knowledge of this poor people," he says, "provoked 
 many in otlier parts of the land. And though I have been absent 
 from them now six years, and they have been assaulted with pulpit 
 calumnies, and slanders, with threatenings and imprisonments, with 
 enticing words and seducing reasonings, they yet stand fast, and 
 keep to their integrity. Many of them are gone to God, and some 
 are removed, and some are now in prison, and most still at home ; 
 but not one that I hoar of arc fallen off, or forsako their upright- 
 ness." 
 
 It woidd be wrong to close this account of Baxter's success witli- 
 out stating the devout feelings with which he recorded it. " I 
 must here, to the praise of my dear Redeemer, set up this pillar of 
 remembrance, even to his praise, who hath employed me so many 
 years in so comfortable a work, with such encouraging success ! (.} 
 what am I, a worthless worm, not only wanting academical hon- 
 ours, but much of that furniture which is needful to so high a work, 
 that God should thus abundantly encourage me, when the reverend 
 instructors of my youth did labour fifty years together in one place, 
 and could scarcely say that they had converted one or two of their 
 ])arishes ! And the greater was this mercy, because I was naturallv 
 of a discouraged spirit ; so that if I had preached one year, and seen 
 no fruit of it, I should hardly have forborne running away like Jo- 
 nah, but should have thought God had not called me to that place." 
 
 III.— BAXTEi: S ADVANTAGES. 
 
 In surveying the wonderful success of Baxter, and in wishing to 
 ailopt his plans of usefulness, many young ministers would l)e glad 
 to know what were the peculiar advantages of his position whieli 
 contributed to the efficiency of his ministry. He himself has 
 recorded thirty of these advantages, which will now be presented 
 in his own arrangement, and, for distinctness' sake, in his own enu- 
 meration. 
 
 I. His going to a people who were not previously hardened by 
 the Gospel. — " I came to a people that never had any awakening mi-
 
 xxxvi Baxter's ^^IXI.<^TtV•. 
 
 iiistr^- before, Lut afew formal coldsermons of the curate. If they had 
 Leen hardened under a powerful ministry, and been sermon proof, 
 1 should have expected less." This language was occasioned by liis 
 bitter remembrance of Bridgenorth. 
 
 2. His affectionate and serious style of preaching. — " I was in 
 the vigour of ray spirits, and had naturally a familiar moving 
 voice, which is a great matter with the common hearers ; and doing 
 all in bodily weakness as a dying man to djang men." " It must 
 be serious preaching Avhich must make men serious in hearing and 
 obeying it." 
 
 3. The removal and disappearance of the profane rabble out of 
 the to-\vn. — " Those who had risen in tumult against me at fii-st, 
 and who were the enemies of all godliness in the town, went, from 
 the very hatred of the Puritans, to the wars, and perished in battle.". 
 
 4. Freedom of conscience and liberty of proi)hesying under the 
 reign of Cromwell. — Baxter himself bears testimony that the suc- 
 cess of the Parliament in the civil wars " removed many and great 
 impediments to men's salvation." Somewhere between the niches 
 allotted for Charles the First and Cliarles the Second, in the New 
 Houses of Parliament, where, as an insult to the civil and religious 
 liberties of England, a statue was denied Cromwell, a tablet sliould 
 be placed bearing in letters of gold the following testimony of Bax- 
 ter : — " Though Cromwell gave liberty to all sects among us, and 
 did not set up any party alone by force, yet this much, gave abun- 
 dant advantage to the Gosj)el [viz.], removing the prejudices and 
 the terrors that hindered it ; especially considering that godliness 
 had countenance, and reputation also, as well as liberty." " For 
 my part, I bless God who gave me, even under an usurper whom 
 1 opjjosed, such liberty and advantage to preach his Gospel with 
 success, which I cannot have under a King to wliora I have sworn 
 and ])erfornied subjection and nljedience ; yea [liberty and advan- 
 tage] which no age, since the Gospel came into this land, did before 
 possess, as far as I can iearn from history." 
 
 5. The esteem and veneration in which lie was personallj' held 
 by all. — " It is almost certain that the gi-atefulness of tlie person 
 doth ingratiate the message, and greatly prepares the people to re- 
 ceive the truth. Had they taken me to be ignorant, erroneous, 
 scandalous, worldly, scK-seeking, &c., I could have expected small 
 success." 
 
 G. The co-operation and zeal of his people. — 'i'hesc " thirsted 
 for the salvation of tlicir nciglibours, and were, in private, my 
 assistants ; and ))cing disijcrscd through the town, were ready, in 
 almost all companies, to rejjress seducing words, and to justify god- 
 liness, to convince, reprove, and cxiiort men according to their 
 uccds ; as also, to teach them liow to pray."
 
 Baxter's mikistky. xxxvii 
 
 7. The consistent lives of the niemiiers of his church. — " The 
 inaUcious iieoiiki could not say, ' Your professors here are as proud 
 and covetous as any.' The blameless lives of godly people did 
 shame opposers." 
 
 8. The absence of sectarian bigotry in the tovm, — " We had no 
 ]!ri\ate church, though we had private meetings. We had not 
 pastor against pastor, nor church against church, nor sect against 
 sect, nor Christian against Christian." 
 
 10. The i)rivate meetings which he held with religious people. — 
 These were meetings for religious conversation, and for the friendly 
 discussion of some important point of doctrine. " Here I had an 
 opportunity to know their ease ; for if any were touched and 
 awakened in public, I should presently see him drop into our pri- 
 vate meetings." 
 
 11. The diligence and laboriousuess of his ministerial assistants. 
 These deserve honouraljle mention ; they were successively Mr 
 Richard Sergeant and ]\Ir Humphrey Waldern. In speaking of Mr 
 Sergeant, he says, — " No child ever seemed more humble. No 
 interest of his own, either of estate or reputation, did ever seem to 
 6top him in his duty. No labour did he ever refuse which I could 
 ))Ut him to. AVhen I put him to travel over the parish, which is 
 nearly twenty miles about, from liouse to house, to catechize and 
 instruct each family, he never grudged or seemed once unwilling. 
 He preached at a chapel above two miles off one-half the day, and 
 in the town the other, and never murmured ;" "Mr Humphrey 
 Waldern was very much like liim." 
 
 12. The coimtenance of the magistrates of the place. " A bailif 
 and a justice were annually chosen in the corporation, who ordi- 
 narily were godly men, and always such as would be thought so ; 
 and were ready to use their authority to suppress sin and i>romote 
 §(odliness." This was in perfect keeping with Baxter's views on 
 the authority of the magistrate in religion ; though it would be dis- 
 puted by most Independents. 
 
 13. His generous liberality to the poor. The living was thought 
 to be worth L.200 per annum, but only L.90, and sometimes only 
 3j.80 came to Baxter. His published works brought him in some- 
 times L.60, and sometimes L.80 per annum. Some of the cle- 
 verest children he sent to the universities, " where, for L.8 a-year, 
 or L.IO at most, by the help of my friends there, I maintained 
 them," " Some of them are honest ministers, now cast out with 
 their brethren." " In giving what little I had, I did not inquire 
 whether they were good or bad, if they asked relief : For the bad 
 had souls and bodies tliat needed charity most. And this truth I 
 will speak to the encouragement of the charitable, that what little 
 money I have now by me, 1 got it almost all, 1 scarce know how,
 
 XXXVIU BAXTEK S MIXI3TRT. 
 
 in thut time when I gave most. And since I have had less oppor ■ 
 tiinity of giving, I have had less increase." 
 
 14. Tlie free distribution and circulation of his practical writings 
 among the inhabitants. Of all his smaller publications he presented 
 ii copy to each family among his people, " which came to about 
 eight hundred." 
 
 15. The facilities for reading afforded by the particular trade of 
 the town. In those days hand-looms allowed the people " time 
 enough to read, and to talk of holy things ;" but the wheels and 
 spindles of power looms are not so accommodating. " The town 
 liveth upon the weaving of Kidderminster stuffs, and as they stand 
 in their loom, they can set a book before them, or edifie one an- 
 other." " And their constant converse and traffic with Loudon doth 
 much promote civility and piety among tradesmen." 
 
 16. His single life. " For I could the easilier take mj' people 
 for my children ; and being discharged from the most of lamily 
 cares, keeping but one servant, had the greater vacancy and liberty 
 for the labours of my calling." 
 
 17. His practice of physic. He found that "they that cared 
 not for their souls did love their lives, and care for their bodies." 
 " Sometimes I could see before me in the church a very consider- 
 able part of the congregation, whose lives God had made me a means 
 to save, or to recover their health. And doing it for nothing si> 
 obliged them, that they would readily hear me." 
 
 18. The influence of his young converts upon their relations. In 
 the town there were few irreligious families " but some of their own 
 relations were converted. Many children did God work upon at 
 fourteen, fifteen, or sixteen years of age ; and this did marvellously 
 reconcile the minds of the parents, and elder sort to godliness. They 
 that would not hear me would hear their own children." " We 
 had some old persons of near eighty years of age who are, I hope, 
 in heaven ; and the conversion of their own children was the chief 
 means to overcome their prejudice, and old customs and conceits." 
 
 19. Afflictions in families. " Though sick-bed promises are 
 usually soon forgotten ; yet was it otherwise with many among us. 
 And as soon as they were recovered, they first came to our private 
 meetings, and so kept in a learning state, till further fruits of piety 
 appeared." 
 
 "20. His bearing a public testimony against the iniquity of the 
 times. Here he refers to Cronnvell's army marching against the 
 Parliament — to the execution of Charles I. — to the invasion of 
 Scotland, &c., .and says, " Had I owned the guilt of others, it would 
 have been my shame, and the hindrance of my work, and provoked 
 God to have disowned me." In his view, pul])it protests against ini- 
 quitous governments wei"e not likely to injure ministerial usefulness.
 
 EAXTUK S MINISTRY. XXXIX 
 
 21. The character of the ministers around him. " Their preach- 
 ing was powerful and sol)er ; their spirits peaceable and meek ; dis- 
 owning the treasons and iniquities of the times, as well as we. They 
 were wholly addicted to the winning of souls : adliering to no fac- 
 tion, neither episcopal, presbyterian, or independent, as to parties, 
 but desiring union, and loving that which is good in all. Tliese, 
 meeting weekly at our lecture (in Kidderminster), and monthly at 
 our disputation, constrained a reverence in the people to their wortli 
 and unity, and consequently furthered my work." 
 
 22. The reproach and ridicule which intemperance brought upon 
 itself. " There were two drunkards almost at the next doors to me, 
 ■who, one by night, and the other by day, did constantly every week, 
 if not twice or thrice a-week, roar and rave in the street like stark 
 aiadmen. These were so beastly and fidiculous that they made 
 that sin, of which we were in most danger, the more abhorred." 
 
 23. The character and the fate of apostates and backsliders in 
 the neighbourhood. " They that fell off were such as, before, by 
 their want of grounded understanding, humility, and mortification, 
 gave us the greatest suspicion of their stability." " As they fell 
 from the faith, so they fell to drinking, gaming, furious passions, 
 horrildy abusing their wives, &c. — and so to a vicious life. I^'o 
 that they stood up as pillars of God's justice to warn others." 
 
 24. The closeness of his appeals in his pastoral visits. In these 
 visits he had " personal conference with every family apart, and 
 catechising and instructing them. That which was spoken to them 
 personally, awakened more attention, and was easier applied than 
 public preaching, and seemed to do much more upon them." 
 
 25. The firm maintenance of Church discipline among the mem- 
 liers of his congregation. His system of discipline was somewhat 
 doubtful for a parish Presbyterian, but the advantages of it to 
 his ministry were the following, as stated by himself. (1.) " We 
 performed a plain command of Christ, and we took oliedience to be 
 better than sacrifice. (2.) We kept the church from irregular 
 separations, &c. (3.) We helped to cure that dangerous disease 
 among the people, of imagining that Christianity is Init a matter of 
 opinion and dead belief; and to convince them how much it con- 
 sisteth in holiness, &c. (4.) We greatly suppressed the practice 
 of sin, and caused people to walk more watchfully than else tliey 
 would have done." 
 
 26. The wise adaptation of his ministry to the circumstances of 
 his hearers. This he did, he says, " by ordering my doctrme to 
 them in a suitableness to the main end, and yet so as might suit 
 their dispositions and disciiscs. The thing which I daily opened 
 to them, and, witli the greatest importunity, laboured to imprint on 
 their m-nds, was the great fundamental principles of Christianity
 
 3U BAXTER S MIXISTUT. 
 
 oonfainecl iu their baptismal covenant." — " Yet I did usually put in 
 sunething in my sermon, which was above their own discovery, 
 and which they had not kno^vn before ; and this I did that they 
 miaht be kept humble, and still perceive their ignorance, and be 
 v/illing to be kept in a learning state." 
 
 27. The absence of wealthy men in his church. '' My people 
 were not rich." — " There were none of the tradesmen very rich, 
 seeing their trade was poor, that w-ould but find them food and rai- 
 ment. The magistrates of the town were, few of them, worth L.40 
 per annum, and most not half so much. Three or four of the rich- 
 est thriving masters of the trade got about L.500 or L.600 in 
 twenty years, and it may be lose L.lOO of it at once by an ill 
 debtor. The generality of the master workmen lived but a little 
 better than their journeymen, from hand to mouth." — " It is the 
 poor that receive the glad tidings of the gospel, and that are usually 
 rif.h in faith. As Jlr George Herbert saith in his Church Mili- 
 tant — 
 
 ' Colli and the gospel never did agree. 
 Religion always sides with poverty.' " 
 
 23. His abstaining from all money agitations with his people. 
 Ho avoided " meddling with tithes and worldly business, whereby 
 I had my whole time, except what sickness deprived me of, for 
 my duty, and my mind more free from entanglements, than else 
 it would have been. And also I escaped the offending of the 
 people. And I found also that nature itself being conscious of 
 the baseness of its earthly disposition, doth think basely of those 
 whom it' discerneth to be earthly." — As an instance of his in- 
 difference to money, he gives the following racy account of his do- 
 mestic life, while a bachelor. " In my family, I had the help 
 of my father, and mother-in-law, and the benefit of a godly, undcr- 
 stamling, faithful servaul, an ancient woman, near sixty j-ears old, 
 who eased me of all care, and laid out all my money for house- 
 keeping, so that I never had one hour's trouble about it, nor ever 
 took one day's account of her for fourteen years together, as being 
 certain of her fidelity, providence, and skill." 
 
 29. His continuing his ministry so long in one place. He was 
 at Kidderminster " near two years before the war, and fourteen 
 after." — " He that removeth oft from [dace to place may sow good 
 seed in many places, but is not like to see much fruit in any, unless 
 some other skilful hand shall follow him to water it. It was a great 
 advantage to me to have all the religious peoj)lo of the place of my 
 own instructing and informing ; and that I stayed to see them grown 
 up to some conlirmedness and maturity." 
 
 30. His itinerant labours in the surrounding towns and villages.
 
 B.VXTEU'S MIXISTRY. Xll 
 
 Paxter and his brethren had a regular system of itinerancy for the 
 county. In speaking of these country lectures, he saj's — " To di- 
 vers of them I went as oft as I was alilc, and the neighbour minis- 
 ters oftener than I." — " This business also we contrived to be uni- 
 versally and regularly managed ; for, besides the lectures set up on 
 week days fixedly in several places, we studied how to have it ex- 
 tended to every place in the county that had need. This lecture 
 did a great deal of good ; and we continued it voluntarily till the 
 ministers Avere turned out, and all these works went down to- 
 gether." 
 
 This concise but well-defined outline of Baxter's labours and 
 tisefulness contains nothing singular in the advantages of his posi- 
 tion, — nothing novel or extravagant in the machinery of his means. 
 His plans were simple, and his advantages were almost common to 
 every faithful pastor ; but his success is extraordinary, and its in- 
 fluence is yet telling throughout England and the Protestant world. 
 The efficiency of his plans is found in his own masculine mind, and 
 manly piety, baptized with the Holy Ghost and with fire. His ma- 
 chinery was plain, but every wheel and pin in it was of the best gold ; 
 was all worked by a living and indefatigable heart, and that 
 heart moved by the Holy Ghost. Pie mentions thirty advantages 
 which contributed to liis success : but one more might have been 
 added to his enumeration, which perhaps his holy modesty prevented 
 him from recording, — and that, the thirty-first, was his preaching 
 talents. He was an efiective preacher, as well as an efficient pas- 
 tor. Under the heads 3 and 26 he makes allusions to his preach- 
 ing, such as his " familiar moving voice," his " dealing in fundamen- 
 tals," &c. ; but they are mere allusions, which give us no full con- 
 ception of Paxter in the pulpit. His works are the best index to 
 his preaching, for he delivered from the pulpit the greater part of 
 his practical publications ; and he says, that, except when diseased 
 or idle, he wrote out all his sermons, and read them as they were 
 written. Plis printed sermons demonstrate that his discourses were 
 distinguished for three great principles of efi'ective preaching — sim- 
 plicity of style, directness of purpose, and earnestness of manner. 
 
 Baxter's own immortal lines will explain the simplicity of his 
 style in the pulpit — 
 
 " I preached, as never sure to prcn<h again, 
 Aiiil as a dying man to dying men. ' 
 
 His language was sound, chaste, and vigorous Saxon, used with- 
 out the Latin idioms of Owen, 6r the majestic m-gligence of Howe. 
 Ho preached Christ crucified in a crucilied style, without ever di-
 
 ?;lii EAXTEn'S MIXISTKY. 
 
 verting liis hearers by extravajrance, or offending tliem by coarsc- 
 i:ess. He never ranged over poetical fields to cnU flowers for his 
 ssrmons. All his tlowers, and many of them are of the loveliest and 
 i'reshest hues, grew out of his subject ; and there he let them stand, 
 because they were either medicinal, or nourishing, to his hearers, 
 as well as beautiful to their sight. He preached as feeling that the 
 truths of God were too gi-eat and too glorious in themselves to be 
 covered up with the little trappings of human adornments. He 
 would {IS soon have thought of hanging the rainbow with corals, as 
 of dressing the cross of Christ with tinsel. His eloquence consisted 
 in fit thoughts, and not in rounded sentences. Consummate and ready 
 (ilalectician as he was, he veiy rarely or never introduced metaphy- 
 sics into his sermons. Sometimes indeed, as has been recorded, lie 
 "ivould say something profound or abstruse, just to convince his 
 liearcrs that his plain preaching and his simple style were not to be 
 traced either to a feeble intellect, or to superficial knowledge ; still 
 b.e was never a metaphysical essayist in the pulpit. He never 
 j)reached a sermon to display his scholastic learning, or his powers 
 of logic ; but his aim was ever to win souls to Christ. If fine and 
 elegant sermons are tolerable at all, it is in the press only, when 
 tliey are to be read as discussions of a subject, and read cither as an 
 intellectual exercise or as a discipline of conscience. In the pulpit 
 splendid sermons are splendid sins. Tliey dazzle, and amuse, and 
 astonish, like brilliant fire-works, but they throw daylight on no 
 subject. They draw attention to the preacher, instead of to the 
 gospel. The splendid preaclier, like the Pyrotechnist, calculates OJi 
 a dark night among his attendants ; and amid the corruscations of 
 llie ])ulpit, his skill and his art are admired and applauded, but Christ 
 is not glorified. If angels weep and devils inock, it is at the pulpit 
 door of a splendid preacher. 
 
 His sermons are all distinguislicd for directness of purpose, and 
 singleness of aim. He neither preached about his liearers nor at 
 tiiem, but to them. Even when recording his having preached at 
 court in the days of the Commonwealth, he says that he " preached 
 to Cromwell," and not before him. Neither did he preach above or 
 besid(! his audience ; but they, like the hearers of our Lord, " per- 
 ceived tiiat he meant tliem." It was the boast of the licnjamites 
 that they could shoot their arrows at an oliject to the breadth of a 
 hair ; but it seems the pride of many pulpit-archers tliat they can 
 shoot many degrees above their targets. In their puljut parades 
 tluir shafts are polished, but tiiey pierce none. Tiie })laiidits of (ho. 
 archer are loud and long ; but, after the whole quiver is exhausted, 
 no groans of the wounded are heard, rrying for relief and life. In ijie 
 ministry, every honest preacher must aim at success ; and he must 
 i:cver misinterpret the scripture narrative of a certain man who di-cw
 
 Baxter's ministry. xliii 
 
 an arrow at a venture, to justify desultory sermons or aimless 
 preaching. All Baxter's sermons have a given and intelligible aim, 
 which stood distinctly and prominently before his eye, and that was 
 the heart or the conscience. lie aimed at producing impression, 
 and producing while he was yet speaking ; he, therefore, never 
 sent his hearers home to decide, but always insisted on " Now or 
 never." 
 
 In preaching, Baxter's heart burnt ^\ itliin him ; and while he was 
 speaking, a live coal from tlie altar fired his sermon with serapiiic 
 fervour. Into his pulpit lie brought all the energies and sj-rapathies 
 of liis entire natui-c. He had a large mind, an accute intellect, a 
 melting heart, a holy soul, a kindling eye, and a " moving voice" — 
 and he called on all that was within him to aid him in his preach- 
 ing. Being deeply earnest himself, he wished his hearers to be 
 deeply earnest. Himself being a burning light, he wislied to flash 
 the hallowed fire into the hearts of others. He seems never to have 
 studied action or " the start theatric." The only teacher that gave 
 him lessons in action and attitude was feeling — real, genuine, holy 
 feeling : and this taiight him how to look, how to move, and how 
 to speak. In preaching, as well as in every thing religious, he be- 
 lieved with Paul, tliat " it is good to be always zealously affected ;" 
 and, consequently, that earnest fervid preaching is truly apostolic. 
 Woidd God that there had been in the church of Christ a real unin- 
 terrupted succession in the fervour of apostolic preaching, and that 
 the mantle of apostolic Elijalis had been taken up by succeeding 
 Elishas, and by men like ApoUos, " an eloquent man, and mighty 
 in the Scripture, who being fervent in spirit, spake and taught dili- 
 gently the things of the Lord." The modern mode of preaching is 
 more like Joseph's coat of many colours, than like Elijah's mantle, 
 which raised the dead — it has never descended from a chariot of 
 fire, and it is so flimsy, that it gives neither heat nor warmth even 
 to the preacher himself. 
 
 Hear I'axter's own heart-stirring thoughts on the best style of 
 preaching.* " How few ministers do preach with all their might ? 
 Or speak about everlasting joy or torment, in such a manner as to 
 make men believe that they are in good sadness. It would make a 
 man's heart ache to sec a company of dead and drowsy sinners sit 
 under a minister, and not have a word that is like to quicken or 
 awaken them. To think with ourselves, if these sinne7-s were hit 
 convinced and atccikened, they inif/ht yet he converted and live. And 
 alas ! we speak so drowsily or gently, that sleepy sinners cannot 
 hear. The blow falls so light, that hard-hearted ))ersons cannot 
 feel it. Slost ministers will not so mucli as put* out tiieir voice and 
 
 * Hefonncd Pastor, Cli:i;>. iv. Sect. C.
 
 xliv BAXTER S THEOLOGY 
 
 ■Stir up themselves to an earnest utterance. But if they do speak 
 out loud and earnestly, how few do answer it with earnestness of 
 matter ? and then the voice doth but little good : the people will 
 take it but for mere bawhng, when the matter doth not correspond. 
 It would grieve me to hear what excellent doctrines some ministers 
 have in hand, and let it die in their hands, for want of close and 
 lively application. What fit matter they have for convincing sin- 
 ners, and how little they make of it ; and what a deal of good it 
 might do, if it were sent home ; and yet they cannot or wUl not do 
 it. Oh sirs ! how plain, how close, and earnestly should we de- 
 liver a message of such a nature as ours is ? When the everlasting 
 life or death of men is concerned in it, methinks we are no where 
 so wanting as in this seriousness. There is nothing more unsuit- 
 able to such a business than to be slight and dull. A\'Tiat ! speak 
 coldly for God ! and for mens salvation ! Can we believe that our 
 people must be converted or condemned, and yet can wo speak in a 
 drowsy tone ! In the name of God, brethren, labour to awaken 
 your hearts before you come ; and when you are in the work, that 
 you may be fit to awaken the hearts of sinners. Remember that they 
 must be awakened or damned ; and a sleepy preacher will hardly 
 awake them." 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 BAXTEIt'S TIIEOLOGT. 
 
 In writing an essay on Baxter, it would be as wrong to omit his 
 Theology, as it would be to omit philosophy in an essay on Bacon, 
 or epic poetry in one on Milton. It was his theology that brought 
 upon him assaults and onslaughts from all sects and divisions of the 
 mihtant church in his own age. It is on account of his theology 
 that a deep, strong, and general prejudice is cherished and expressed 
 to this day. In fact, it is his theology that constitutes his indivi- 
 duality in History. By Baxter, every divine means Baxter's theo- 
 logy. As l)y Mclancthon, one means the " Commimes Loci ;" and by 
 Calvin, the " Institutes ;" so by Baxter, the theological reader 
 means "the A])horism3on Justification," and the devotional reader 
 means, " the Saint's Rest," or " the Reformed Pastor." 
 
 It is not likely that this volume will come into the hands of any 
 one reader who has not some lurking and undefined prejudice 
 against Baxter, aud that solely on account of his theology. To 
 render this volume, therefore, useful to such a reader, it is neces- 
 sary tlut some notice should be taken of Baxter's Theology.
 
 Baxter's tiieologv. xlv 
 
 In thaological science Baxter was a Thinker. He did not sa- 
 tisfy liimself with reading and collecting the thoughts of other di- 
 vines, but he thought out their thoughts, and he digested tht'ir 
 master doctrines, until they gave him strength and stature, and bu- 
 carae part and parcel of his own gigantic mind. Some minds, like the 
 bookworm, penetrate through musty volumes and ponderous tomes; 
 and in their progress they devour syllables, words, and even whole 
 sentences, but they themselves do not grow one cubit in thought. 
 A Hviug, thinking mind is not so. "Wlienever the thoughts of others 
 get a lodgement in a healthy mind, as seed in a fertile soil, they 
 produce other thoughts, and these thoughts are that mind's own 
 thoughts, its own produce, and its own seed for a further harvest. 
 This was the case with Baxter. He roamed through the varied 
 domains of thought, and schoolmen, and divines, and collected the 
 thoughts of others more exclusively and successfully, perhaps, than 
 any theologian of his age :— but he had also thoughts of his own, 
 thoughts which had all the vigour and raciness of the Baxteriau 
 mind, and these thoughts he worked out with a power, and inde- 
 jjcndency, and a courage, which entitle him to all the distinction of 
 an original Theologian. 
 
 In the breadth and the depth of theologj' as a science, Baxter had 
 no divine of his age that surpassed him : perhaps the truth would 
 warrant the assertion, that in bi-eadth and depth, he had none equal 
 to him. Usher was probably equal to him in the depth of theolo- 
 gical dogmatics, and surpassed him in general knowledge. Jekemy 
 Taylor was equal to him in the breadth of scholastic literature, 
 and surpassed him in the brilliancy of amassed thoughts. But in 
 both length and breadth, neither of them sur];)assed him ; for every 
 theological reader will allow that Baxter is more profound than 
 Taylor, and more comprehensive than Usher. Among the Non- 
 conformists, also, there were many who excelled him in some 
 things ; as Owen in Greek exegesis, Howe in loftiness of thouglu, 
 Goodwin in evangelical savour, and Flavel, in gentle sweetness 
 but none of them e(iualled him in all. 
 
 His only real rival among the Nonconformists was Dr Owen 
 and it is a fact that, among religious parties two centui-ies ago, and 
 among the evangelical readers of our own day, Owen was, and has 
 been, a far greater favourite than Baxter. One of the most re- 
 markable circumstances in this fact is that, even with Arminiau 
 divines, the Calvinistic Owen is in far greater acceptance than tha 
 eclectic Baxter. The reason is, that Owen studied the Christology 
 of Redemption more than Baxter ; and Baxter studied the Anthro- 
 pology of salvation more than Owen. Owen exhibits with much 
 jichness and amplitude what Christ did for the redemption of man. 
 Baxter takes all this for granted, and, taking his position at tliB
 
 xlvi Baxter's theology, 
 
 cross of Christ, addresses a "Call to the Unconverted;" and ex- 
 plains and enforces the obligations of redeemed man to believe the 
 testimony of God concerning his Son. The cold reception of Bax- 
 ter, and the warm accci)tablGness of Owen, therefore, ■with Armi- 
 iiian divines, are curious phenomena in the philosophy of theologi- 
 cal parties. Arniinians have forgiven Owen's "limited redemption," 
 on account of his " Glorj' of Christ," and "Communion with God;" 
 but they have never forgiven Baxter's " Personal Election," for 
 the sake of his " General Redemption," and his " Saint's Everlast- 
 ing Rest." 
 
 The violent iinkindness with which Baxter's theology was treat- 
 ed by the divines of his own age, and of his own communion, is not 
 peculiar to his contemporaries: it is the fate of tlieological enter- 
 prise in all ages. He seems to have suft'ered as much of odium and 
 annoyance from his brethren on account of his doctrinal thoologj-, 
 as lie suffered of reproach and persecution from the Episcopalian 
 Royalists, on account of his ecclesiastical politics. Some indeed 
 who disliked his theolo-n', opposed it with lionesty and plain speak- 
 ing, chastened by kindness. Such were Blake, of Tamworth, in a 
 postscript attached to his " Covenant Sealed ; " Burgess, of Sutton 
 Coldfield, in his " True Doctrine of Justification," and George 
 IjAwson, the able author of " 'i'heopolitica," a work whose merit 
 has never yet been appreciated by the theological student. Other 
 opponents treated him with harshness and insulting severity. Such 
 were Kendall in his work on " Perseverance;" Eyre, of Salis- 
 burj-, in his " Treatise on Justification ; " Crandox, of Eawlej-, in 
 his " Baxter's Aphorisms exorcised and anthorized; " and especially 
 by Thomas Edwards, in his " P.axterianism liarefaced." Nor is 
 Jh- Owen to be left out of this last enumeration, as is evident from 
 the close of his tract " On the Death of Christ," &c. attached to his 
 " ^'indiciiE Evangelica;." The theological character of all his 
 opi)onents is given by Baxter with one stroke of his pen. " The 
 animadverters," he says, " were of se.veral minds ; and what one 
 ajiproved, the other confuted, being farther from each other than 
 any of them were from nic." 
 
 To theologians of any class, it is a great dishonour ; but to Pro- 
 testant theologians, whose very existence is a standing protest 
 against intellectual slavery, it is a flagrant .shame, that they .should 
 cherish in themselves, and i)romotc in each other, a disjwsition to 
 decry any 81 irit tliat appears among them claiming the right of iliink- 
 ing with his own mind, seeing with his own eyes, and sj)eaking witli 
 his own lips. Wiiy should they act thus? The God of mind, like 
 the God of nature, is the God of variety. In variety there must 
 necessarily be a scries and a collection of individualities ; for where, 
 there is no distinctive individuality, Uiere can bo no variety, but
 
 BAXTEH'S TIIEOLOCIY. xlvil 
 
 only uniformity. To even' germ of life " God hath given it a 
 body as it hath pleased him, and to every seed it3 own body ; 
 and every flesh is not the same flesh." In like manner, to every 
 rational being, " God giveth it a mind and mental powers as it hath 
 pleased him ; and to every mind its own form, and its own modo 
 of producing thonglit ; and all thought is not the same thought." 
 Why, then, should theologians wish to destroy this beautiful variety 
 in the intellectual system ? Who has given them authority to inter- 
 fere with this variety? Who are they themselves who claim this 
 right to interft're ? Have they any divine right to difl'er from a man 
 like Baxter, which a man like Baxter has not to difTer from them ? 
 Are not they themselves, as well described above, farther from each 
 other, than any of them arc from him ? 
 
 It is unlovely to see thiidiing men trying to murder every 
 fresh produce of thought. It is unmanly and ungenerous to at- 
 tempt to quench a man's reason by wounding his feelings. It is 
 the meanness of dastard imbecility to try to check the progress of 
 his doctrine by Parthian javelins at his othcial position or his pro- 
 fessional reputation. Yet this is the odium theolofjiatm. If men, 
 in the affairs of everj'-day life, are to exercise forbearance towards 
 each otlicr because they are in the flesh ; the same forbearance is 
 inci'ml)ent on theologians towards their brethren in intellectual 
 struggles, since they themselves see but in a glass darkly. The 
 men who are known in ecclesiastical history as heretics, would 
 probably have never proceeded to the extreme errors with which 
 their names are associated, had it not been for the intellectual tyranny, 
 and the dogmatic despotism, of their contemporary theologians. 
 Had a little intellectual liberty been allowed to the inquiring spirit, 
 and had the new thinker been treated with gentle concern and alTec- 
 tionate warning, instead of with reserve, rudeness, and barbarity, 
 the powerful mind would have been preserved to the church and to 
 the interests of truth. Spontaneous thoughts and doctrines are 
 tender and vital matters to a thinking mind. AVhen, therefore, 
 any luxuriant thoughts which may sprout from the vigorous roots of 
 a healthy mind are wrenched otf by the hand of a ruthless ortho- 
 doxy, the heart's blood will resiwud to the barbarity, and as in the 
 tree of Virgil, 
 
 " QiioB prima solo ruptis radicibus arbos 
 
 VelUlur, liuif alio iiqinintur sanguine gut(ae, 
 £t tenaiu tubu iiiaculnnt." 
 
 One is tempted to ask, which is the most nnehristian and 
 most dangeroiis to Cliristianity--tbe freedom of s]'CCuiation which 
 proves all things that it n-.ay hold the more fast that which is good ; 
 or the ungenerous, illiberal, and persecuting spirit with which tlie
 
 SlviU BAXTER.S TIIEOLOCV. 
 
 <i;iponents <reat the raithor of that speculation? Yet, the inquirer 
 is suspected, and the higot is canonized. Why, in the very temple 
 of truth itself, God still speaks " in divers manners : " yea, in the 
 very tones of truth, vcc are to expect harmony, but not unison. 
 The discussion of truth and the agitation of doctrines have always 
 resulted in good to the Church, and to the world. Even the waters 
 <if Bethesda, in the very house of Mercy itself, needed to be agitated 
 nnd disturbed to renew their healing power. It is, therefore, un- 
 f^eemly in theologians, that when some '' Doctor Angclicus " descends 
 among them, and agitates the settled waters of their dull and stag- 
 nant orthodoxy, then always "a great UTultitude of impotent foil;, 
 of blind, halt, and withered," creep from the " five points " of their 
 " five porches " to brandish their crutches against the intruder, cr 
 to mutter their anathemas against the innovation, instead of wel- 
 coming the benignant visitor, sharing in the healthiness of tlic 
 agitation, and becoming healed of whatsoever disease they had. 
 Such an angel was Baxter, and such was the treatment of his whole- 
 some and healing agitation of the waters of orthodoxy ; and such 
 ■will always be the treatment of theological agitations until intel- 
 lectual liberty become an acknowledged law in the republic of 
 literature. 
 
 Baxterianism was treated in the eighteenth century much as 
 Baxter himself was treated by his contemporaries in the seventecntli. 
 In the eighteenth century, ultra-Calvinism was rampant among the 
 Baptist and Independent churches ; and even in Episcopal churches, 
 where there was Calvinism at all, it was inclined to ultraism, as 
 may be instanced in Romaine and Toplady. This retreating from 
 Baxterianism to the extreme bordei-s of Calvinism may be accounted 
 for by the pernicious influence which professed Baxterianism exerted 
 <in its avowed adherents. These professed disciples of Baxter gra- 
 dually forsook the r/a media of their master, and travelled to 
 Armin'ianism ; and thence, after some progress through Arianism, 
 ])ecame at last settlers in Soeinianism. From a survey of these pain- 
 ful consequences, many sound Calvinists hated Baxterianism, and 
 asked, " Can any good thing come from Kidderminster ? " The 
 result was, that a blind and blinding prejudice against Baxter pre- 
 vailed every where iai England, and especially in Scotland and 
 "Wales. 
 
 A startling instance of the force and extent of this bigotted preju- 
 'lice is given in Mr Philip of Maberly's lively "Essay on th(^ 
 (ienius, Works, and Times of Baxter," attached to Virtue's bciiutifiil 
 edition of *' Baxter's I'ractical Works " in three volumes. A pri- 
 vate gentleman, who was an elegant scholar and a good theologiai;, 
 teeing the destructive influence of hyi)er-('alvinism upon pcrsoTia! 
 piety, as well as upon theological science, resolved to try to soften
 
 BAXTEU S THEOLOGY XilX 
 
 ilown the asperities of controversy by introducing among the con- 
 troversialists the matured tlioughts and strong ai'gumcnts of some 
 master-mind in Israel. Agreeably to this method, he contrived to 
 tiike the public by guile, and he published the opinions of " an 
 author of the seventeenth century." 
 
 " It is hardly credible," says Mr Philip, " but it is true, that 
 so lately as the close of the last century, specimens of the best of 
 I^axtcr's arguments on the great points at issue between C'alvin- 
 ists and Arminians, -were brought before the public without his 
 name, that they might be read without prejudice, and make their 
 own impression, before the author could be discovered. This was 
 done bj- Eli Bates, Esq., in a volume entitled, ' Observations on 
 some important Points in Divinity, &c. &c., extracted from an au- 
 tlior of the seventeenth century.' Even in the second edition of 
 this volume, in 1811, Baxter's name is not given in the title-page, 
 nor allowed to appear even in the preface. The fact is. Bates 
 was too proud of Baxter's theology to peril it at once upon his 
 name. He knew his peculiarities, and could not forget the odium 
 tl'.ey once excited." — " The dexterous bait took. Not a few Calvin- 
 ists found out that there was an old and powerful writer whom the 
 Arminians could not claim, and would not quote, for themselves, 
 iven although he fought their battle at some of its hottest points , 
 and still more, Arminians discovered that Calvinism did not neces- 
 sarily limit the call of the Gospel, nor subvert the free agency of man." 
 
 During the eighteenth century, the dissenting ministry in Britain 
 were divided into Calvinists and Baxterians. Through the disre- 
 ]inte into which the Arians and others brought the name of Bax- 
 terianism, many divines, who were Baxterians in theological senti- 
 ments, renounced the name ; and since the commencement of the 
 nineteenth century, they have preferred being called " Moderate, 
 < 'alvinists." The moderate Calvinists of the present century are in 
 iact only the Baxterians of the preceding age. This change in the 
 name is owing to the influence of the writings of President Edwards, 
 of Andrew Euller, and of Dr AVilliams. The " Fullerism" of the 
 sage of Kettering, and the " Modern Calvinism" of Dr Williams, 
 would, in the eightcentli century, have been called Baxterianism. 
 AV'hcn the disciples of Baxter are called Baxterians, it is not meant 
 that they ever formed a distinct sect, or separate party, in the 
 C'hristian Church. Instead of being, like the Wesleyans for in- 
 •stance, formed into a distinct body, they were, and are, more like 
 the friends of Arminius, scattered among different societies, and 
 found among all communities. Though the denomination " Bax- 
 terian," as the badge of a theological party, is likely to become ex- 
 tinct, the partj' itself will always exist, as long as Arminianism will 
 have any tendency to Pelagianism, and Calvinism have any bias to- 
 wards Antinomianism,
 
 1 BAXTElt'S THEOLOGY. 
 
 This account of the treatment of Baxter ami his Theology has 
 probaljly excited the reader to wish to know what Baxterianism is. 
 
 Taxtcrianism is, in theolog}-, wliat eclecticism is in philosophy. 
 It is a method of philosophizing, and, if the word be allowed, of 
 theologizing, which seizes upon theological truth, in whatever sys- 
 tem that truth may be foimd ; and which gathers and appropriates 
 to itself every truth, simply because it is truth. The theology of 
 Baxter is distinguished from others by four peculiarities,--by its 
 method of .systematizing the doctrines of Revelation ; its adoption of 
 universal Redemption in harmony with personal Election ; its theory 
 of Justification by faith ; and its theoretical and practical assertion of 
 the agency of man in conversion. 
 
 The method which Baxter adopted for systematizing the doctrines 
 of theology may be called Triadism, or what he liimself calls " Tri- 
 chotomizing." The meaning is, that as all the works and dispensa- 
 tions of God are the productions of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, 
 some vestigia Trinitatis, some evidences of triplicity, or some marks 
 of triadism, may be expected to discover themselves in all the 
 phenomena of the divine operations. Those who understand what 
 Alonadism was to Plato and Leibnitz, and what Tetractysm was to 
 the Pythagoreans, will be prepared to comprehend what triadism 
 was to Baxter. It is his starting point, the principle from which hs 
 sots out, the -TTou (jTu, the where-to-stand of Archimedes, or, what 
 the German philosophers call his stand-punkt, his stand-point. 
 
 The whole of his Latin Body of Divinity called " JIethodus 
 Theologize," is arranged according to this method. At the close 
 of his " Counsels to Young Men," published in 1682, he gives the 
 following account of his method of arrangement in the " Methodus." 
 " It consists of seventy-three tables, or methodical schemes, pre- 
 tending to a juster methodizing of Christian verities according to 
 the matter and Scripture, than Is yet extant ; furnishing men with 
 necessary distinctions on every subject ; shewing that trinity in 
 unity is imprinted on the whole creation, and [that] trichotomizing 
 is the just distribution in naturals and morals." This trinal me- 
 thod was a decided favourite, it was almost a passion with him. Ho 
 saw triadism every where. As in the Godhead ho saw Father, 
 Son, and Holy Spirit, so he perceived that in God's relations to tlw 
 world, ho was Creator, Ruler, and Benefactor,— in tlie soul of man 
 he saw power, will, and intellect,— in the divine dispensations to- 
 wards man, he saw nature, grace, and glory, — in salvation ho saw 
 the Father as Rector or Ruler, the Sou as Redeemer, the Holy 
 Spirit as Sanctificr,— and in the Grace of the Spirit he saw faith, 
 hope, and charity. 
 
 To those who delight to watch some great mind at some imuort- 
 ant work, the practical application of this method to pliilosophy and
 
 BAXTEU'S THEOLOOT. 11 
 
 tliOi)lnp:)-, must be as intercstiiifj as to see a painter plying his pencil 
 and colours, or a sculptor his hanuner and chisel. The perspica- 
 city necessary for detecting the trinal " priinalities" as they devc- 
 lope themselves in the phenomena of the universe, the skill to ana- 
 lyse them and place them in proper arrangement, and the extent of 
 knowledge requisite to combine all these triads in one complete 
 whole and one grand unity, demand an intellect that is quick, 
 adroit, and comprehensive. The great drawback from the glory of 
 the whole process is, that the eflort is not so useful as it is clever 
 and amusing. As an intellectual exercise on the plains of si)ecu- 
 lation, it is pleasing not only because it is playful, but because also 
 it is a wholesome discipline in the gjnnnastics of mind. But, as a 
 system of methodizing, it is so hypothetical, so conjectural, and some- 
 times so pbantastic. But it is of no use either to practical religion 
 or to theological science. The English reader will find how Bax- 
 ter employs this method, in his " Catholick Theologie," printed in 
 1675, but presented more succinctly in his " End of Controversies," 
 printed in 1091. 
 
 Baxter's doctrine of universal Iledpmption in harmony with 
 personal Election, can scarcely be called Baxterianism. Yet as far 
 as English theology is concerned, it is one of the most distinctive 
 characteristics of Baxterianism. This doctrine was, in fact, the 
 theology of the French Caivinists, especially of Camero, Amyral- 
 Dus, and Dall.eus. Baxter seems to have read the works of the 
 French divines thoroughly, and therefore, upon this subject, Eng- 
 lish Baxterianism is nothing but what might be called AmjTaldism, 
 or French Cameronianism. In his theory of Redemption, Baxter 
 differed from most, if not from all of the Calvinistic theologians in 
 • Entrland. 
 
 First, He asserted that the Atonement, or Satisfaction of Clirist, 
 did not consist in his suflering the identic^il punishment which was 
 due to mankind from an offended law. This he expressed in the 
 language of the schools, by saying that Christ did not suiter 
 the idem threatened in the penaltj-, but the tuntundem, or the 
 equivalent. In plain English, the theory means, that the curses of 
 the law were due to men for their sins,— that Girist became a sub- 
 stitute for men, — that the law could inflict no curse upon an inno- 
 cent Substitute,— and that the Lord did not suffer the curses of the 
 law, but answered " the end of the law," by suffering what would 
 have the sr.me effect in moral government, as if he had endured the 
 identical punishment thre;itened. 
 
 Secondly, he asserts that Christ rendered this tantimdem, or en- 
 dured these equivalent sufferings, with the design of furnishing an 
 honourable consideration, or safe ground, for proclaiming pardon
 
 lii EAXTr.r/s thkology. 
 
 and offering salvation to cveiy human being. This Kiea.ns that 
 Clirist died for sins and not for persons. 
 
 Thirdly, he asserts, that while the-honefits of this substitutionary 
 atonement are aeeessihle and available to all men for their salva- 
 tion, they have, in the divine appointment, a special reference to 
 the subjects of personal election ; that is, Christ is an atoning Ran- 
 som, and is " the Saviour of all men, but specially of them that 
 believe." This third assertion is the head and front of Baxter's 
 offending. By admitting universal redemption, he offended the 
 <,'alvinists ; and by admitting personal election, he offended the 
 Arminians. 
 
 Had Baxter satisfied himself with admitting these two doctrines 
 into his system without attempting to harmonize them, he would 
 have acted the part of a humble believer, and of a philosophic theo- 
 logian, and would besides have spared himself much polemic obloquy 
 and persecution. Great faith is believing a great truth. He is 
 greatest in faith who believes the greatest truths, and the greatest 
 number of truths ; and he is complete in faith who believes all 
 truth. Upon this principle, Baxter believed that he found the two 
 truths, genei-al redemption and personal election, in the Book of 
 truth, and therefore he admitted them into his system of theology. 
 And why not ? He was charged with admitting discrepancies and 
 contradictioiis ; and the charge was apparently true. To this 
 charge every believer is subject. Kinety-nino men out of a hun- 
 <',red believe what arc called contradictions; and the hundredth man is 
 <inc who either doubts every thing, or examines nothing. These 
 two principles are not contradictions because men call them so : they 
 may, in the realities of the case, be verities in the most perfect har- 
 mony, though our feculties are not adequate to the task of reconcil- 
 ing them. The office of Keason, in reference to all truths presented 
 to it, is to examine them and believe them. It is never called upon 
 tirst to reconcile them, or, if it fail in that, then to reject them. In 
 no portion of the Scripture does God enjoin upon liis servants the 
 obligation to harmonize his truths; for, that is his work, and not 
 theirs : it is theirs to believe that he has harmonized tiiem before 
 they were revealed and announced. 
 
 Jiaxter attempted to reconcile these two doctrines by a theory 
 much in vopue in his time, of Common Grace and Special Grace : 
 but that theorj' was as inconsistent and contradictory as that of 
 Universal Rc'dcmption and Special Salvation was supposed to be. 
 'J'hat theory was, that if any man made a proper use of common 
 Grace, God wuuld then give l)im saving Grace. Baxter illustrates 
 this with the metaphor of a house with two stories ; and says, that 
 if man would use common Grace to come up the first flight of stairs, 
 God would give liim saving Grace to ascend the second flight, and
 
 EAXTEU'S THEOLOGY. liii 
 
 tlnis enter the hijrher (lei)artnu'nt. lie does not say what this com- 
 iiion grace is, wliy it is called common ; nor does he distinguish it 
 i'roni what was afterwards called natural ability, which, as an element 
 essential to acconntableness, is a matter of Justice, and not of Grace. 
 Indeed, the whole In-pothesis seems to be proposed rather to justify 
 the damnation of the sinner than to aid him in his salvation. It 
 must therefore be confessed that Baxter, in his eftbrts at reconcili- 
 jition, did not meet the question fairly and fully. His theory is, 
 that all the elect are sure to be saved ; and that those who are non- 
 elect may he saved, if they believe the Gospel. The question which 
 he had to solve was this : Will any of the non-elect believe, and be 
 actually saved ? This question he could not meet, because the 
 Scriptures record no instance of such a circumstance. 
 
 Tliis difficulty is produced, not by the evidence of the two truths, 
 Universal Kedemption and Personal Election, as independent doc- 
 trines, but by the attempt to reconcile them. The reasoning of 
 liaxter, stripped of its scholastic form, would probably be em- 
 bodied in the following statement : That the number of the 
 finally saved, who will be at the right hand of Christ in the last 
 day, is foreknown, and therefore fixed, is indisputable ; and that 
 < 'Iirist, by the grace of God, tasted death for every man, and for 
 tiie sins, not of the elect only, but also for the sins of the whole 
 world, and that the call to accept his salvation is sincerely adilressed 
 to all men, are equally indisputable : why then not admit both V 
 'i'heologians who believe in general Providence, believe also in 
 special Providence. "What is special Providence but the applica- 
 tion of the principles and means of general Providence to special 
 oases? It is thus that "all things " in general Providence " work 
 together for good," special/// " to them that love God." In the. 
 same manner, a theologian may admit Universal Redemption and 
 Special Itedemption, since Special Redemption is only the applica- 
 tion of the benefits and provisions of general redemption to special 
 e.T«es ; it is Christ being generally the Saviour of all men, specially 
 of them that believe. 
 
 In line, liaxter believed that a certain and fixed number of saved 
 men was determined in the deci'ce about Redemption, without any 
 reference to their faith as the ground of their election. Here he 
 was a decided Calvinist of the Dordt School. He also believed that 
 the divine decrees contemplate no Reprobation of any, but a uni- 
 versal redemption for all who will accept it, since Christ died for 
 all. llcrc he was a decided Arminian. He admitted both doctrines 
 to be tnie, and this gave to his theology tlic name of Baxterian. 
 
 A third distinctive peculiarity of Baxter's theologj- was his theory 
 of J ustification by Faith. His theory was, tliat in justification of
 
 liv Baxter's theology. 
 
 a sinner, it is not the righteousness of Christ that is imputed to 
 him, but his Civn actual iaith. In explaining his theoiy, it is ne- 
 cessary to state the hypothesis which he had to attack. The ma- 
 jority of the C'alvinistie divines of his day believed in, what was 
 called the imputation of Christ's active righteousness to the be- 
 liever. It was presented in this manner. The law said " Do this 
 and live." The sinner could not " do this" perfectly ; therefore 
 he must die. Jesus Christ " did this," or obeyed the law instead 
 of the sinner, both as his substitute and as his representative, and 
 therefore the law could not again say to the sinner " do this," since 
 it had been done for him by his representative. In this theory the 
 sinner is accounted as if he had obeyed the law, /. e. what Christ 
 had done as his representative is accounted as having been done by 
 himself, and therefore the law coidd not ask him twice. This opened 
 a way direct to all the heights, moors, and bogs of Antinomianism ; 
 for the inference was unavoidable that, if Christ rendered to the 
 law all the active obedience which was due to it from the believer, 
 the law could not ask him for any more obedience ; that is, Christ 
 obeyed the law that the believer might not obey it. To hedge off 
 this tremendous precipice some divines introduced the hypothesis 
 of a distinction between the law as a Covenant of Works and as a 
 Rule of Life, which they borrowed from Cocceiu.'?. 
 
 To counteract the above opinions, Baxter sought to establish, in 
 harmony with many of the Fathers, and of the divines of the Refor- 
 mation, that, in justification, the active righteousness of Christ was 
 not at all imputed, but only the faith of the believer in the Right- 
 eousness of Christ. In this statement he deemed himself firmly 
 sustained by the express language of Scripture, and by the literal 
 exegesis of the passages in which " faith" was found in connexion with 
 " justification," — e. g. Gen. xv. 6 ; Rom. iv. 3, 5, 9, 23-24. All these 
 passages, he argued, shew that the doctrine of Paul was, that it was 
 " faith," and not the active righteousness of Christ, that was im- 
 puted for justification. In opposition to this interpretation, Dr 
 Owen and others argued, that by the word " fiith" here, the Apos- 
 tle meant the object of faith, viz. the righteousness of Christ. 
 Baxter contended that such a gloss was against all honest exegesis of 
 the passages, and against the logical argument of the Apostle. " If 
 it be not faith indeed," he says, " that the Apostle meaneth, the 
 context is so far from relieving our understandings, that it contri- 
 buteth to our unavoidable deceit and ignorance. Read over the 
 texts, and put but ' Clirist's righteousness' every where instead of 
 the 'faith,' and sec wliat a scandalous parai)hrase you will make." 
 This was honest and manly dealing, and warranted by the context. 
 As an example of this absurdity, read Rom, iv. 9, as Baxter sug- 
 gests--" Wc say that the object of his fajth, the righteousness of
 
 BAXTERS THEOLOGY. Iv 
 
 Christ, was coiuited to him for righteousness." This " object of 
 his faith could not be Ids, until it was imputed to him ; but it is evi- 
 dent that he exercised /n's faith before the imputation. Besides, a:5 
 if the Apostle wished to speak more explicitly, he sa_vs, in verse 22, 
 that by " faith," he did not mean the " object of faith," but the act 
 of " believing" in him, " who raised our Lord Jesus from the dead." 
 Faith is believing. Justifying faith is believing a justifying 
 truth. God informed Abraham that all the nations of the earth 
 should be blessed, /. e. pardoned and saved on account of his seed, 
 the ilessiah. Abraliam witnessed tliis saving and justifying truth, 
 and his beUeving it in the saving character of his Seed, was count- 
 ed to him for righteousness, or a justifpng faith. It \vas a pro- 
 per, a just, and a right thing that Aljraham should believe 
 God's testimony concerning the Alessiah, and therefore it was im- 
 puted to him as a right thing, or as a righteousness. The Owen- 
 ian divines objected that in this shewing, faith was an act, and 
 therefore a work, which would imply justification by -works. And 
 that such an act or work implied merit, and therefore did not, like 
 the gospel justification, exclude boasting. It would be now too te- 
 dious to enter fully upon these objections. Let it suilice just to 
 state that the objection is a play upon the word " work "—that be- 
 lieving in a substitute is no " work of law " — that faitli is only an 
 act of compliance with the gospel method of justification, and that 
 no human being is ever conscious that there is any merit vrhatever 
 in believing a true statement. 
 
 The fourth, and which was regarded by some as the most offensive 
 peculiarity of Baxter's theology, was his doctrine that every sinner 
 has a distinct agency of his own to exert in the process of his con- 
 version. Among his works there is no separate treatise on human 
 ability or free agency ; but in all his works he either asserts or as- 
 sumes that every man has power to do his duty. The most length- 
 ened investigation of the ditncukies of tliis question is found in Iiis 
 " Catholic Theologie," in the Dialogues on origmal shi, free v.i.l, 
 and eSfeetual grace. In " the Sixth day's Conference on natural 
 corruption and impotency," he puts to his antagonist the following 
 questions, which are all answered by being conceded. 
 
 1. Have not wicked iiici: natural life? or are they dead? 
 
 2. Have they not natural powci's or faculties for natural acts ? 
 
 3. Is it not the same natural faculty of intellection by which we 
 imderstand and believe things common and (things) spiritual ? And 
 the same natural faculty of wiliing, by which Ave love or will them 
 both ? 
 
 4. (This is about common grace). 
 
 5. Is there any nation or people in the world that are not obliged
 
 Ivi BAXTERS TIIIiOLOGV. 
 
 bj' Got! to use some means towai-ds tlieir own conversion, and t > 
 forbear their sin ? 
 
 6. Is there not sueli a thing in the world as a true power to di) 
 something that never is done, and forbear what is not forborne ? 
 
 Tills puzzles the antagonist, but Baxter proeeeds to demonstrate 
 it : and then on " the Eleventh day's Conference " he rallies him and 
 asks — " Would you not have your wife, children, and servants 
 taught that it is their duty to love, honour, and obey you ? and 
 your neighbours to deal justly with you? and the rulers to i)rotect 
 you, and the judges to do you justice?" 
 
 The antagonist replies — " I speak only of religious, and not civil 
 duties." 
 
 Answer. " You are indififerent, it seemeth, as to the interests of 
 God's honour and man's salvation. Let those alone, so be it your 
 own interest be secured. Duty to you must be preached, but nut 
 to God. But would you not have them taught to do you service as 
 to tlie Lord, and as such as from him shall have punishment and 
 reward ? Should not all be done to the glory of God ? " 
 
 All intellectual philosophers avow the doctrine that man has 
 power to command his owti attention ; and no theologian can dis- 
 pute it. This power to comnumd his own attention, or " power 
 over his own will," in man, is called, in doctrinal theology, " the 
 self-determining power of the will." Baxter assumed this in all his 
 writings, and in all his sermons, and especially in the two works 
 embodied in this little volume. 
 
 The " Call to the Unconverted" takes for granted, in every 
 page, that man " hatk power over his own will." Indeed, no work 
 has ever been written on conversion, and no work can be written 
 on the subject, which does not imply that man acts volun- 
 tarily, whether in accepting or in rejecting the calls of the 
 Gospel. The leading doctrines in the " Call to the Unconverted" 
 are the following :—l'hat the wicked must either turn and be con- 
 verted, or perish,— that the wicked, whoever they are, shall be 
 saved if they will oidy turn, — that God is pleased in their conver- 
 sion, but displeased in their danmation,— that (rod is shicu'C in this 
 pleasure, and has confirmed it by oath,— that (iod importunes men 
 to be converted, — that he reasons with the wicked, and asks them 
 to account for their non-conversion, — and that the blame of their 
 being unconverted is not to be attached to any secret decree in God, 
 but entirely to their own obstinacy. 
 
 It is true that his views of free-agency were not very dear or di,^- 
 tlnct ; but the only thing that clouded them was the misty theory 
 of common grace and saving grace. 'J'his is evident from the nian- 
 nor in which he meets the following objections to the wicked being 
 called to turn :—
 
 Baxter's theology. Ivii 
 
 " Object. — But we cannot convert ourselves till God convert 
 us ; wo can do nothing without his grace. It is not in him that 
 willetli, nor in him tliat runneth, but iu God that sheweth mercy." 
 
 *' Ans. 1. — God hath two degrees of mercy to shew ; the mercy of 
 conversion first, and the mercy of salvation last. The latter he will 
 give to none but those that will and run, and hath promised to them 
 only. The former is to make them willing that were unwilling ; and 
 though your own willingness and endeavours deserve not his grace, 
 yet your wilful refusal deserveth that it sliould be denied you. Your 
 disability is your very unwillingness itself, which excuseth not your 
 sin, but maketh it the greater. You could turn, if you were but 
 truly willing ; and if your wills themselves were so corrupted that 
 nothing but effectual grace will move them, you have the more. 
 cause to seek that grace, and yield to it, and do what you can in the 
 use of means, and not neglect it, or set against it. Do what you are 
 able first, and then complain of God for denying you grace, if you 
 have cause." 
 
 " Object. — But you seem to intimate all the while that man hath 
 free-will." 
 
 " Axs.— The dispute about free-will is beyond your capacity. I 
 shall therefore trouble you with no more but this about it. Your 
 will is naturally a free, that is, a self-determining faculty ; but it is 
 viciously inclined, and backward to do good ; but that is the wicked- 
 ness of it which deserveth punishment." 
 
 Whatever may be our sentiments concerning Baxter's theory of 
 human agency in conversion, it is evident that Dr Owen could not, 
 on his principles, write a "Call to the Unconverted." This theory 
 gave a character to Baxter's mind and to Baxter's preaching. It 
 is probable that it was the very characteristic that arrested the 
 attention of Archbishop Usher, who suggested to him his adapta- 
 tion to write works of this description. In the preface he gives 
 a detailed account of Usher's couviTsation with him on the import- 
 ance of producing such a work. The work was not commenced till 
 after the death of the venerated Archbishop, and was published on 
 December 11, 1657. It is introduced by a very serious address 
 " to all unsanctitied persons who shall read this book, especially 
 my hearers in the parish of Kidderminster." Of its remarkable and 
 extensive usefulness, he gives the following account ; — 
 
 *' God hath blessed it with unexpected success beyond all the 
 rest that I have written, except the ' Saint's Kest.' In a little, 
 more than a year, there were about twenty thousand of them printed 
 by my own consent, and about ten thousand since, besides many 
 thousands by stolen impressions, which j)oor men stole for lucre's 
 sake. Through God's mercy, I have had inforaiation of almost 
 whole households converted by this small book, which I set so light
 
 IvUi Baxter's theology. 
 
 by : and, as if all this in England, Scotland, and Ireland, were not 
 mercy enongh to me, God since I was silenced, hath sent it over 
 on his message to many beyond the seas. For when Mr Elliot 
 had printed all the Bible in the Indian's language, he next trans- 
 hited this my ' Call to the Unconverted.' * * * Mr Stoop, the 
 pastor of the French church in London, being di-iven hence by the 
 displeasure of liis superiors, was pleased to translate it into elegant 
 French, and print it in a veiy curious letter : "and I hope it will 
 not be unprofitable there, nor in Germany, where it is printed in 
 Dutch." 
 
 Since the death of Baxter it has been translated into almost all 
 the European languages, and has gone through very numerous 
 and very large editions, both in England and in America. The 
 instances of its usefulness, known and unknown, ai-e a number which 
 110 man can number. 
 
 The other work contained in this volume is written on the same 
 theological principles as the " Call to the Unconverted," and is in- 
 tituled, " Making light of Christ." This latter work is the sub- 
 stance of a sermon preached at St Lawrence, Jewry, where the Kev. 
 lilr Vines was pastor. %he brief history of this sermon supplies 
 an index to the great popularity of Baxter as a preacher. 
 When he had to preach this sermon at St Lawrence, Jewry, he 
 sent word to Mr ^^ines to secure seats or ])ews for Lord Brog- 
 liill and the Earl of Suffolk, " with whom he was to go in the 
 coach." " Yet," he says, " when I came, the crowd had so little 
 respect to persons, that they (the said Lords) were fain to go home 
 again, because they could not come witliin hearing. The old Earl 
 of Warwick, wlio stood in the lobby, brought me home again. 
 And Mr Vines himself was fain to get up into the pulpit, and sit 
 behind me, and I stood between liis legs: which 1 mention, that 
 the reader may understand that verse in my poem concerning him, 
 which is printed, where I say, that ' at once one pulpit held us 
 loth.' " 
 
 The full title of the sermon is, " Tlie Causes and Danger of 
 slighting Christ and his Gosi)el : or, Eternal Salvation made Light 
 by multitude's to whom it is freely offered." It was first preached 
 at Kidderminster, and afterwards in London. The whole discourse 
 abounds with solemn and stirring passages. To his readers he says 
 in the preface — " Should you but seriously read, and well consider 
 as you read, till your lieart be scnsililc what a sin it is to make 
 light of Christ and his salvation, and till the Lord that bouglit jou. 
 be advanced in the esteem and alfections of your soul, — this will 
 fulfil my desires." In these desires the writer of this Essay, and 
 the Editor and I'ublisher of these voliunesof " Tlic I'uritan Divines," 
 sincerely and devoutly join.
 
 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST A.\D SALVATION, 
 
 THE ISSUE OF GOSPEL INVITATIONS. 
 
 How shall we escape if we neglect so gi-eat salvation?"— Heb. ii. 3*.
 
 TO THE READER. 
 
 Re^vder, 
 
 Beixg called on in London to preach, when I had no time 
 to study, I was fain to preach some sermons that I had 
 preached in the country a little before. This was one, 
 which I preached at St Laurence, in the church where my 
 reverend and foithful brother in Chiist, Mr Richard Vines, 
 is pastor : when I came home I was followed by such im- 
 portunities by letters to prmt the sermon, that I have jield- 
 ed thereunto, though I know not fully the ground of then* de- 
 sires. Seeing it must abroad, vnll the Lord but bless it to the 
 cure of thy contempt of Christ and gi-ace, how comfortable 
 may the occasion prove to thee and me ! It is the slighting of 
 Christ and salvation, that undoes the world. O happy man 
 if thou escape but this sin ! Thousands do spUt their souls 
 on this rock which they should biuld them on. Look into 
 the world, among rich and poor, high and low, young and 
 old, and see whether it appear not by the whole scope of 
 their conversations that they set more by something else 
 tlian Christ ? And for all the proclamations of his gi'ace in 
 the gospel, and our common professing ourselves to be his 
 disciples, and to behcve the glorious things that he hath 
 promised us in another world, whether it yet appear not by 
 the doceitfulness of our service, by our heartless endeavours 
 to obtain liis kingdom, and by our busy and delightful fol- 
 lowing of the world, that the most who are called Christians 
 do yet in their hearts make light of Christ ; and if so, wliat 
 wonder if they perish by tlieu- contempt ? Wilt thou but 
 soberly peruse this short discourse, and consider well as 
 thou readest of its truth and weight, tiU thy heart be sen-
 
 4 TO THE RE.U>ER. 
 
 sible yvhsxt a sin it is to make light of Christ and thy own 
 salvation, and till the Lord that bought thee be advanced 
 in the estimation and affections of thy soul, thou shalt here- 
 by rejoice, and fulfil the desires of 
 
 Thy servant in the faith, 
 
 RICHARD BAXTER.
 
 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AO SALVATION, 
 
 TOO OFT 
 
 THE ISSUE OF GOSPEL INVITATIONS. 
 
 " But they made light ol' it." — Matt. -xxii. 5. 
 
 Thk blessed Son of God, that thought it not enough to 
 die for the world, but -would himself also be the preacher of 
 grace and salvation, doth comprise in this parable the sum 
 of Ids gospel. By the king that is here said to make the 
 marriage, is meant God the Father, that sent his Son into 
 the world to cleanse them fi'om their sins, and espouse them 
 to himself. By his Son, for whom the maniage is made, is 
 meant the Lord Jesus Christ, the eternal Son of God, who 
 took to his Godhead the nature of man, that he might be 
 capable of being their Redeemer when they had lost themselves 
 in sm. By the mairiage is meant the conjunction of Chiist 
 to the soul of sinners, when he giveth up himself to them to 
 be their Sa\'iour, and they give up themselves to him as his 
 redeemed ones, to be saved and mled by him ; the perfec- 
 tion of which marriage wi]l be at the day of judgment, when 
 the conjunction between the whole church and Christ shall 
 be solemnized. The word here translated marriage^ rather 
 signifieth the marriage-feast ; and the meaning is, that the 
 world is in-vited by the gospel to come in and partake of 
 Christ and sidvation, which comprehcndeth both pardon, 
 justification, and right to salvation, and :dl other privileges
 
 6 M^UvIXG LIGHT OF CHKIST AND SALVATIOX. 
 
 of the members of Christ. The irmtation is God's offer of 
 Christ and salvation in the gospel ; the servants that in^■itc 
 tliem are the preachers of the gospel, who are sent forth by 
 God to that end-; the preparation for the feast there men- 
 tioned, is the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, and the enactmg of a 
 law of grace, and opening a way for revolting sinners to re- 
 turn to God. There is a mention of sending second mes- 
 sengers, because God useth not to take the first denial, but 
 to exercise his patience till sinners are obstinate. The first 
 persons invited are the Jews ; upon their obstinate refusal 
 they are sentenced to punishment : and the gentiles are in- 
 cited, and not only invited, but by powerful preaching, and 
 mu-acles, and eflectual gi'ace, comjielled ; that is, infaUibly 
 prevailed with to come in. The number of them is so gi'eat 
 that the house is filled with guests : many come sincerely, 
 not only looking at the pleasure of the feast, that is, at the 
 pardon of sin, and deliverance from the WTath of God, but 
 also at the honour of the marriage, that is, of the Redeemer, 
 and their profession by giving up themselves to a holy con- 
 versation : but some come in only for the feast, that is, jus- 
 tification by Christ, haring not the wedding-garment of 
 sound resolution for obedience in their life, and looking only 
 at themselves iu believing, and not to the glory of their 
 Redeemer ; and these arc sentenced to everlasting misery, 
 and speed as ill as those that came not in at all ; seeing a 
 faith tliat will not work is but like that of the devil ; and 
 they that look to be pardoned and saved by it are mistaken, 
 as James sheweth, chap. ii. 24. 
 
 Tlie words of my text contain a narration of the ill enter- 
 tainment that the gospel findeth with many to whom it is 
 sent, even after a first and second inritation. They made 
 light of it, and are taken up Avith other things. Though it 
 be the Jews that were fii'st guilty, they have too many fol- 
 lowers among us gentiles to this day. 
 
 The Doc tuixk of the Passage. — ^For all the wonderful 
 love and mercy tliat God hath manifested in giving his Son 
 to be the Redeemer of the world, and wliich the Son hath 
 manifested in redeeming them by his blood ; for all his full
 
 MAKING LIGHT OF CHKIST AND SALVATION. 7 
 
 preparation by being a sufficient sacrifice for the sins of all ; 
 for all his personal excellencies, and that full and glorious 
 salvation that he hath procured ; and for all his fi-ee oilers 
 of these, and frequent and earnest in\dtation of sinners ; yet 
 many do make light of all this, and prefer their worldly 
 enjoyments before it. Tlie ordinary treatment of all these 
 oHers, invitations, and benefits, is by contempt. 
 
 Not that all do so, or that all continue to do so, who 
 were once guilty of it ; for God hath his chosen whom he 
 mil compel to come in. But till the Spirit of grace over- 
 power the dead and obstinate hearts of men, they hear the 
 gospel as a common story, and the great matters contained 
 in it go not to the heart. 
 
 The method in wliich I shall handle this doctiine is this. 
 
 I. I shall shew you what it is that men make light of. 
 
 II. "What this sin of making light of it is. 
 
 III. The cause of the sin. 
 
 IV. The use of the doctrine. 
 
 I. The thing that carnal hearers make light of is, 
 
 1 . The doctiine of the gospel itself, which they hear re- 
 gardlessly. 2. The benefits offered them therein : which 
 are, 1. Christ himself 2. The benefits which he giveth. 
 
 Concerning Christ himself, the gospel, 1. Declareth his 
 person and natiu-e, and the great things that he hath done 
 and suffered for man ; his redeeming him from the wrath 
 of God b}' his blood, and procuring a grant of salvation 
 with himself. Fuitlieiinore, the same gospel maketh an 
 offer of Christ to sinners, that if they -will accept him on 
 his easy and reasonable terms, he ANall be then" Saviour, the 
 Physician of their souls, then* Ilusbimd, and their Head. 
 
 2. The benefits that he ofTereth them are these. 1. That 
 with these blessed relations to him, himself and mterest in 
 liim, they shall have the pardon of all their sins past, and 
 be saved from God's -sn-ath, and be set in a sm*e way of 
 obtiiining a pardon for all the sins tliat they shall commit 
 hereafter, so they do but obey sincerely, and timi not again 
 to the rebellion of their unregeneracy. 2. They shall have 
 the Spuit to become their Guide and Sanctifier, and to dwell
 
 8 MAKESG LICiHT OF CIIKIST AND S.VLA'ATIOX. 
 
 in tlieii' souls, and help them against their enemies, and con- 
 lurm them more and more to his image, and heal their dis- 
 eases, and bring them back to God. 3. They shall have 
 right to everlasting glory when this life is ended, and shall 
 be raised up thereto at the last ; besides many excellent 
 privileges in the way, in means, preservation, and provision, 
 and the foretaste of what they shall enjoy hereafter : all 
 these benefits the gospel oifereth to them that will have 
 Chi'ist on his reasonable terms. The sum of all is in 1 John v. 
 11, 12, " This is the record, that God hath given us eternal 
 life, and this life is in his Son : he that hath the Son hath 
 life, and he that hath not the Son hath not life." 
 
 H. Wliat this sin of the making light of the gospel is. 
 1. To make light of ti:e gospel is to take no great heed to 
 what is spoken, as if it were not a certain truth, or else 
 were a matter that little concerned thera ; or as if God had 
 not Avritten these things for them. 2. ^Vhen the gospel 
 doth not affect men, or go to then* hearts ; but though they 
 seem to attend to what is said, yet men are not awakened 
 by it from theii' security, nor doth it work in any measure 
 such holy passion in their souls, as matters of such everlast- 
 ing consequence should do : this is making light of the 
 gospel of salvation. AYlien we tell men what Christ hath 
 done and suffered for their souls, and it scarce moveth 
 them : ' we tell them of keen and cuttmg truths, but nothing 
 Avill pierce them : we can make them hoar, but we cannot 
 make them feel ; our words take up in tlic porch of their 
 ears and fancies, but will not enter into the inward parts ; 
 as if we spake to men that had no hearts or feeling : this is 
 a making liglit of Christ and salvation. Acts xxviii. 26, 
 27, " Hearing ye shall hear, and shall not understand ; 
 seeing ye shall see, and shall not perceive. For the heait 
 of this people is waxed gross, and their cars are dull of 
 hearing, and their eyes have they closed," &c. 
 
 3. When men have no high estimation of ChiTst and 
 salvation, but wliatsoever they may say with their tongues, 
 or dreamingly and speculatively believe, yet in their serious 
 and practical thoughts they have a higher estimation of the
 
 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SAXVATIOIs. 9 
 
 matters of this world, than they have of Christ, and the 
 salvation that he hath purchased ; this is a making light of 
 him. When men account the doctrine of Christ to be but 
 a matter of words and names, as Gallic (Acts x\'iii. 4), or 
 as Festns (Acts xxv. 19), a superstitious matter about one 
 Jesus who Avas dead, and Paul saith is alive ; or ask the ■ 
 preachers of the gospel, as the Athenians, " What will this 
 babbler say?" Acts xvii. 18 : this is contempt of Christ. 
 
 4. "VMien men are informed of the truths of the gospel, 
 and on what terms Christ and his benefits may be had, and 
 liow it is the will of God that thej' should believe and ac- 
 oept the oiler; and that he commaruleth to do it upon pain 
 of damnation ; and yet men will not consent, unless they 
 could have Christ on terms of their OAvn : they will not part 
 with their worldly contents, nor lay doAvn their pleasm-es, 
 and profits, and honour at his feet, as being content to 
 take so much of them only as he will give them back, and as 
 is consistent with his will and interest, but think it is a hard 
 saj-ing, that the}- must forsake all in resolution for Christ : 
 this is a making light of him and their salvation. When 
 men might have part in him and all his benefits if they 
 would, and they will not, unless they may keep the world 
 too ; and are resolved to please their flesh, whatever comes 
 of it ; this is a high contempt of Christ and everlasting life. 
 In Matt. xiii. 21 ; Luke x\iii. 23, you may find examples 
 of such as I here describe. 
 
 5. When men will promise fair, and profess their willing- 
 ness to have Christ on his terms, and to forsake all for him, 
 but yet do stick to the world and their sinful courses ; and 
 Avhen it comes to practice, will not be removed by all that 
 Christ hath done and said ; this is making light of Christ 
 and SiJvation, Jer. xlii. 5, compared with xliii. 2. 
 
 III. The causes of this sin are the next tiling to be in- 
 quired after. It may seem a wonder that ever men, that 
 have the use of their reason, should be so sottish as to make 
 light of matters of such consequence. But the cause is, 
 
 1 . Some men understand not the very sense of the words 
 of the gospel when they hear them ; and how cim they.
 
 10 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST XSX> SAXVATIOX. 
 
 be taken with that which they understand not ? Though 
 we speak to them in plain EngHsh, and study to speak it as 
 plain as we can, yet people have so estranged themselves 
 from God, and the matters of their own happiness, that they 
 know not what we say ; as if we spoke in another language, 
 and as if they were under that judgment, Isa. xx-\-iii. 11, 
 " With stammermg hps, and mth another tongue, wiU he 
 speak to this people." 
 
 2. Some that do understand the words that we speak, 
 yet because they are carnal, understand not the matter. 
 " For the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit 
 of God, neither can he know them, because they are spiri- 
 tually discerned," 1 Cor. ii. 14. They are earthly, and 
 these things are heavenly, John iii. 12. These things of 
 the Spirit are not well known by bare hearsay, but by spiri- 
 tual taste, which none have but those that are taught by the 
 Holy Ghost (1 Cor. ii. 12), that we may know the things 
 that are given us of God. 
 
 8. A carnal man apprehendeth not a suitableness in these 
 spii-itual and heavenly things to his mind, and therefore he 
 sets light by them, and hath no mind of them, "\^^len you 
 tell him of everlasting glory, he heareth you as if you were 
 persuading him to go play with the sun : they are matters 
 of another world, and out of his element ; and therefore he 
 hath no more dehght in them than a fish would have to be 
 in the fairest meadow, or than a swine hath in a jewel, or a 
 dog in a piece of gold : they may be good to others, but he 
 cannot apprehend them as suitable to him, because he hath 
 a natm'e that is otherwise incHned : he savom-eth not the 
 tilings of the Spiiit, Rom. -^-iii. 5 
 
 4. The main cause of the shghting of Christ and salva- 
 tion is, a secret root of unbelief in men's hearts. "Whatso- 
 ever they may pretend, they do not somidly and thoroughly 
 beUeve the word of God : they are taught in general to say 
 the gospel is true ; but they never saw the evidence of its 
 truth so far, as thoroughly to persuade them of it ; nor have 
 they got their souls settled on the infallibility of God's tes- 
 timony, nor considered of the truth of the particular doc-
 
 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AXD SALVATIOX. 11 
 
 trines revealed in the Scripture, so far as soundly to believe 
 them. Oh did you all but soundly believe the words of this 
 gospel, of the evil of sin, of the need of Christ, and what he 
 hath done for you, and what you must be and do if ever 
 you will be saved by him ; and what will become of you for 
 ever if you do it not ; I dare say it would cure the con- 
 tempt of Christ, and you would not make so hght of the 
 matters of your salvation. But men do not believe while 
 they say they do, and would face us down that they do, and 
 verily think that they do themselves. There is a root of 
 bitterness, and an e\il heart of unbelief, that make them 
 depart from the lining God, Heb. ii. 12 ; iv. 1, 2, 6. Tell 
 any man in this congregation that he shall have a gift of 
 ten thousand pounds, if he will but go to London for it ; if 
 he beheve you, he will go ; but if he behove not, he will 
 not ; and if he ^vill not go, you may be sm-e he believeth 
 not, supposing that he is able. I know a slight beUef may 
 stand with a wicked life ; such as men have of the truth of 
 a prognostication, it may be true, and it may be false ; but 
 a true and sound beUef is not consistent with so great ne- 
 glect of the things that are beUeved. 
 
 5. Christ and salvation are made light of by the world, 
 because of then* desperate hardness of heart. The heart is 
 hard naturally, and by custom in smning made more hard, 
 especially by long abuse of mercy, and neglect of the means 
 of gi'ace, and resisting the Spirit of God. Hence it is that 
 men are turned into such stones : and till God cure them of 
 the stone of the heart, no wonder if they feel not what they 
 know, or regard not what we say, but make light of all : 
 it is hard preaching a stone into tears, or making a rock to 
 tremble. You may stand over a dead body long enough, 
 and say to it, O thou carcass, when thou hast lain rotting 
 and mouldered to dust till the resmTection, God wiU then 
 call thee to account for thy sin, and cast thee iiito everlast- 
 ing fire, before you can make it feel what we say, or fear 
 the misery that is never so truly threatened : when men's 
 hearts are lilce the highway that is trodden to hardness by 
 long custom m smmng, or like the clay that is hardened to
 
 12 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST .iXO S.AXVATION. 
 
 a stoue by the heat of those mercies that should have melted 
 them into repentance ; when they have consciences seared 
 with a hot iron, as the apostle speaks (1 Tim. iv. 2), no 
 wonder then if they be past feeling, and working all unclean- 
 ness with greediness do make light of Christ and everlasting 
 glory. Oh that this were not the case of too many of our 
 hearers ! Had we but living souls to speak to, they would 
 hear, and feel, and not make light of what we say. I know 
 they are natiu-ally alive, but they are spiritually dead, as 
 Scriptm-e witnesseth, Eph. ii. 3. Oh if there were but 
 one spark of the life of grace in them, the doctrine of 
 sah^ation by Jesus Christ would appear to them to be the 
 weightiest business m the world ! Oh how confident should 
 I be, methinks, to pi'evail Avith men, and to take them off 
 this world, and bring them to mind the matters of another 
 world, if I spake but to men that had life, and sense, and 
 reason ! But when we speak to blocks and dead men, how 
 should we be regarded ? Oh how sad a case are these souls 
 in, that are fallen under this fearful judgment of spiritual 
 madness and deadness ! to have a bhnd mind, and a hai'd 
 heart, to be sottish and senseless (Mark iv. 12 ; John xii. 
 40), lest they should be converted, and their sin should be 
 forgiven them. 
 
 6. Christ and salvation are made hght of by the world, 
 because they are wholly enslaved to their sense, and taken 
 up with lower things : the matters of another world are out 
 of sight, and so far from their senses, that they cannot re- 
 gard them ; but present things are nearer them, in their 
 eyes, and in their hands. There must be a hving faith to 
 prevail over sense, before men can be so taken with things 
 that are not seen, though they have the word of God for 
 their secuiity, as to neglect and let go things that are still 
 before their eyes. Sense works ■nath great advantage, and 
 therefore doth much in resisting faith where it is ; no won- 
 der then if it carry all before it, where there is no true 
 and Uvely faith to resist, and to lead the soul to higher 
 things. This cause of making light of Clirist and salvation 
 is expi'essed here in my text : one went to Ids flirm, and
 
 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AXD SALA'^ATION. 13 
 
 another to liis merchandise : men have houses and lands to 
 look after ; they have wife and children to mind ; they have 
 their body and outward estate to regard ; therefore they 
 forget that they have a God, a Redeemer, a soul to mind : 
 these matters of the world are stUl with them. They see 
 these, but they see not God, nor Christ, nor their souls, 
 nor everlasting glory. These things are near at hand, and 
 therefore work naturally, and so work forcibly; but the 
 others are thought on as a great way off, and therefore too 
 distant to work on then* affections, or be at the present so 
 much regarded by them. Then- body hath life and sense, 
 therefore if they want meat, or di-ink, or clothes, vnil feel 
 their want, and teU them of it, and give them no rest till 
 their wants be supplied, and therefore they cannot make 
 light of their bodily necessities ; but their souls in spiritual 
 respects are dead, and therefore feel not their wants, but 
 will let them alone in their greatest necessities ; and be as 
 quiet when they are starved and languishing to destruction, 
 as if aU were well, and nothing aUed them. And here- 
 upon poor people are whoUy taken up in proA'iding for the 
 body, as if they had nothing else to mind. They have their 
 trades and callings to follow, and so much to do fi'om morn- 
 ing to night, that they can find no time for matters of salva- 
 tion : Christ would teach them, but they have no leisure to 
 hear him : the Bible is before them, but they cannot have 
 time to read it ; a minister is in the town vdth them, but 
 they cannot have time to go to enquire of him what they 
 should do to be saved : and whsn the}' do hear, their hearts 
 are so full of the world, and carried away with these lower 
 matters, that they cannot mmd the things which they hear. 
 They are so full of the thoughts, and desires, and cares of 
 this world, that there is no room to pour into them the 
 water of life. The cares of the world do choke the word, 
 and make it become unfruitful, Matt. xiii. 32. Men cannot 
 serve two masters, God and mammon ; but they will lean 
 to the one, and despise the other, Matt. vi. 24. He that 
 loveth the world, the love of the Father is not in him, 1 
 John ii. 15, 16. Men cannot choose but set light by Christ
 
 14 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. 
 
 and salvation, wliile tliey set so much by any thing on 
 earth. It is that which is highly esteemed among men that 
 is abominable in the sight of God, Luke xvi. 15. Oh, this 
 is the ruin of many thousand souls ! It woidd grieve the 
 heart of any honest Christian to see how eagerly this vain 
 world is followed every where, and how little men set by 
 Chi'ist and the world to come ; to compare the care that 
 men have for the world, with the care of their souls; and 
 the time that they lay out on the world, with that time they 
 lay out for their salvation : to see how the world fills then* 
 mouths, their hands, their houses, theu* hearts, and Christ 
 hath Uttle more than a bare title : to come mto their com-' 
 pany, and hear no discourse but of the world ; to come in- 
 to their houses, and hear and see nothing but for the world, 
 as if this world would last for ever, or would purchase them 
 another. When I ask sometimes the ministers of the gospel 
 how their labours succeed, they tell me. People continue 
 still the same, and give up themselves wholly to the world ; 
 so that they mind not what ministers say to them, nor will 
 give any full entertainment to the word, and aU because of 
 the deluding world : and O that too many ministers them- 
 selves did not make light of that Christ whom they preach, 
 being dra^vn away with the love of this world ! In a word, 
 men of a worldly disposition do judge of things according to 
 worldly advantages, therefore Christ is shghted ; " He is 
 despised and rejected of men, they hide their faces from 
 him, and esteem him not, as seeing no beauty or comeHness 
 in him, that they should desire him," Isa. hii. 3. 
 
 7. Christ and salvation are made light of, because men 
 do not soberly consider of the truth and weight of these ne- 
 cessary things. They suffer not their muids so long to 
 dwell upon them, tUl they procure a due esteem, and deeply 
 affect their heart ; did they beheve them and not consider 
 of them, how should they work ! Oh when men have rea- 
 son given them to think and consider of the things that most 
 concern them, and yet they will not use it, this causeth their 
 contempt. 
 
 8. Christ and salvation are made Hght of, because men
 
 MAXmG LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SATVATIOX. 15 
 
 were never sensible of their sin and misery, and extreme 
 necessity of Christ and his salvation ; their eyes were never 
 opened to see themselves as they are ; nor theii- hearts 
 soundly humbled in the sense of their condition : if this were 
 done, they would soon be brought to value a Saviom- : a 
 truly broken heart can no more make light of Christ and 
 salvation, than a hungry man of his food, or a sick man of 
 the means that would give him ease ; but tUl then our words 
 cannot have access to their hearts : while sin and misery are 
 made light of, Chi-ist and salvation ivill be made light of; 
 but when these are perceived an intolerable burden, then 
 nothing will serve the turn but Christ. Till men be truly 
 humbled, they can venture Christ and salvation for a lust, 
 for a httle worldly gain, even for less than nothing : but 
 when God hath illuminated them, and broken their hearts, 
 then they would give a world for a Chi-ist ; then they must 
 have Chi-ist or they die ; all tilings then are loss and dung 
 to them in regard of the excellent knowledge of Christ, 
 Phil. iii. 8. WTien they are once pricked in theii- hearts 
 for sin and misery, then they cry out, " Men and brethren, 
 what shall we do?" Acts ii. 87. "When they are awakened 
 by God's judgments, as the poor jailer, then they cry out, 
 " Sirs, what shall I do to be saved?" Acts x-vi. 30. Tliis 
 is the reason why God Avill biing men so low by humilia- 
 tion, before he brings them to salvation. 
 
 9. Men take occasion to make light of Christ by the 
 commonness of the gospel ; because they do hear of it every 
 day, the frequency is an occasion to duU their affections ; I 
 say, an occasion, for it is no just cause. AYere it a rarity 
 it might take more •u-ith them ; but now, if they hear a mi- 
 nister preach nothing but these sa-\-ing truths, they say, We 
 have these everj' day : they make not light of their bread or 
 drink, their health or life, because they possess them every 
 day ; they make not light of the sun because it shineth 
 every day ; at least they should not, for the mercy is the 
 greater ; but Christ and salvation are made light of because 
 they hear of them often ; this is, say they, a good, plain, 
 diy sermon. Peai'ls are trod into the dirt where they ai'e
 
 16 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AKD SAXVATIOX. 
 
 common : they loathe this dry manna : " The ftJl soul 
 loathes the honej'-comb ; but to the hungry every bitter 
 thing is sweet," Prov. xxvii. 7. 
 
 10. Christ and salvation are made light of, because of 
 this disjunctive presumption ; either that he is sure enough 
 theirs already, and God that is so merciful,, and Christ that 
 hath suffered so much for them, is sm-ely resolved to save 
 them ; or else it may easily be obtained at any tune, if it be 
 not yet so. A conceited facility to have a part in Christ 
 and salvation at any time doth occasion men to make Hght 
 of them. It is true, that grace is free, and the offer is uni- 
 versal, according to the extent of the preaching of the 
 gospel ; and it is true, that men may have Christ when they 
 vriU ; that is, when they are willing to have him on his 
 terms ; but he that hath promised thee Christ if thou be 
 willing, hath not promised to make thee willing : and if thou 
 art not willing now, how canst thou think thou shalt be 
 willing hereafter ? If thou canst make thine own heart will- 
 ing, why is it not done now ? Can you do it better when 
 sin hath more hardened it, and God may have given thee 
 over to thyself? O smners ! you might do much, though 
 you are not able of yourselves to come in, if you woidd now 
 subject yourselves to the working of the Spirit, and set in 
 while the gales of grace continue. But did you know what 
 a hard and impossible thing it is to be so much as willing 
 to have Chiist and grace, when the heart is given over to 
 itself, and the Spbit hath withdrawn its former invitations, 
 you woidd not be so confident of your owia strength to be- 
 lieve and repent ; nor would you make light of Christ upon 
 such fooUsh confidence. If indeed it be so easy a matter 
 as you imagine, for a sinner to believe and repent at any 
 time, how comes it to pass that it is done by so few ; but 
 most of the world do peiish in their impenitency when they 
 have all the helps and means that we can aflford them ? It 
 is true, the thing is very reasonable and easy in itself to a 
 pm-e natiu-e ; but whUe man is blind and dead, these things 
 are in a sort impossible to him, which are never so easy to 
 others. It is the easiest and sweetest life in the world to a
 
 MAKING LIGHT OP CHRIST AND SALVATION. 1 7 
 
 gracious soul to live in the love of God, and the delightful 
 thoughts of the life to come, where all their hope and hap- 
 piness heth : but to a worldly, carnal heart., it is as easy to 
 remove a mountain as to biiiig them to this. However, 
 these men are their own condemners ; for if they think it so 
 easy a matter to repent and believe, and so to have Christ, 
 and right to salvation, then have they tio excuse for neglect- 
 ing this which they thought so easy. O wretched, impeni- 
 tent soul ! what mean you to say when God shall ask you. 
 Why did you not repent and love your Redeemer above the 
 world, when you thought it so easy that you could do it at 
 any time ? 
 
 rV". Use 1 . We come now to the application : and hence 
 you may be informed of the blindness and folly of aU carnal 
 men. How contemptible are their judgments that think 
 Christ and salvation contemptible ! And how little reason 
 there is why any should be moved by them, or discouraged 
 by any of their scorns or contradictions ! 
 
 How shall we sooner know a man to be a fool, than if 
 he know no difference between dung and gold ? Is there 
 such a thing as madness in the world, if that man be not 
 mad that sets light by Christ, and his own salvation, while 
 he daily toils for the dung of the earth ? And yet what 
 pity is it to see that a company of poor, ignorant souls will 
 be ashamed of godliness, if such men as these do but deride 
 them ! or will think hardly of a holy life, if such as these 
 do speak against it ! Hearers, if you see any set light by 
 Christ and salvation, do you set Ught by that man's wit, 
 and by his words, and hear the reproaches of a holy life as 
 you would hear the words of a madman, not with regard, 
 but with a compassion of his misery. 
 
 Use 2. "N^Tiat wonder if we and our preaching be de- 
 spised, and the best ministers complain of ill success, when 
 the ministry of the apostles themselves did succeed no bet- 
 ter ? "\^^lat wonder if, for all that we can say or do, oiu- 
 hearers still set hght by Christ and their own salvation, 
 when the apostles' hearers did the same? They that did 
 second their doctiine by miracles, if any men could have 
 
 B
 
 18 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. 
 
 shiiken and torn in pieces the liearts of sinners, they could 
 have done It ; if any could have laid them at their feet, and 
 made them all cry out as some, " What shall we do?" it 
 would have been they. You may see then that it is not 
 merely for want of good preachers that men make light of 
 Christ and salvation. The first news of such a thing as the 
 pardon of sin, and the hopes of glory, and the danger of 
 everlasting misery, Avould turn the heiirts of men within 
 them, if they were as tractable in spiritual matters as m 
 temporal : but, alas, it is far other\vise. It must not seem 
 any strange thing, nor must it too much discourage the 
 preachers of the gospel, if, when they have said all that they 
 can devise to say, to win the hearts of men to Christ, the 
 most do still slight him ; and while they bow the knee to 
 him, and honom* him ■nith their lips, do yet set so light by 
 him in their hearts, as to prefer every fleshly pleasure or 
 commodity before him. It Avill be thus with many : let us 
 be glad that it is not thus with all. 
 
 Use 3. But for closer appUcation, seeing this is the great 
 condemning sin, before we inquii'e after it into the hearts of 
 our hearers, it beseems us to begin at home, and see that 
 we, who -are preachers of the gospel, be not guilty of it our- 
 selves. The Lord forbid that they that have undertaken 
 the sacred office of revealing the exceUenciesof Christ to the 
 world, should make light of him themselves, and slight that 
 salvation which they do djuly preach. The Lord knows we 
 are all of us so low in our estimation of Christ, and do this 
 great work so negligently, that we have cause to be ashamed 
 of our best sermons ; but should this sin prevail in us, we 
 were the most miserable of all men. Brethren, I love not 
 censoriousness ; j'et dare not befriend so vile a sin in myself or 
 others, under pretence of avoiding it : especially when there 
 is so great necessity that it should be healed first in them 
 that make it their work to heal it in others. Oh that there 
 were no cause to complain that Christ and salvation are 
 made light of by the preachers of it ! But, 1. Do not the 
 negligent studies of some speak it out? 2. Doth not their 
 dead and drowsy preaching declare it ? Do not they make
 
 MAKtSG LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SAI.VATIOX. 19 
 
 light of the doctrine they preach, that do it as if they were 
 half asleep, and feel not what they speak themselves ? 
 
 3. Doth not the carelessness of some men's private en- 
 deavom-s discover it? "Wliat do they for souls? How 
 shghtly do they reprove sin ! How little do they when 
 they are out of the pulpit for the saving of men's souls ! 
 
 4. Doth not the continued neglect of those things wherein 
 the mterest of Christ consisteth discover it? 1. The 
 church's purity and reformation. 2. Its iinity. 
 
 6. Do not the covetous and worldly Hves of too many 
 discover it, losing advantages for men's souls for a little gain 
 to themselves ? And most of this is because men are preach- 
 ers before they are Christians, and tell men of that which 
 they never felt themselves. Of all men on earth there are 
 few that are iu so sad a condition as such ministers : and if, 
 indeed, they do believe that Scripture which they preach, 
 methinks it should be terrible to them m theu* studj-ing 
 and preaching it. 
 
 Use 4. Beloved hearers, the office that God hath called 
 us to, is by declaring the glorj' of his grace, to help rnider 
 Christ to the saving of men's souls. I hope you think not 
 that I come hither to-day on any other errand. The Lord 
 knows I had not set a foot out of doors but in hope to suc- 
 ceed in this work for your souls. I have considered, and 
 often considered, what is the matter that so many thousands 
 should perish when God hath done so much for their salva- 
 tion ; and I find this that is mentioned in my text is the 
 cause. It is one of the wonders of the world, that when 
 God hath so loved the world as to send his Son, and Christ 
 hath made a satisfaction by his death sufficient for tliera all, 
 and offereth the benefits of it so fi-eely to them, even with- 
 out money or price, that yet the most of the world should 
 perish ; yea, the most of those that are thus caUed by his 
 word ! Why, here is the reason, when Christ hath done 
 all this, men make Hght of it. God hath shewed that he Ls 
 not un-\vilimg ; and Christ hath shewed that he is not un- 
 willing that men should be restored to God's favoiu* and 
 be saved ; but men are actually uuArilling themselves. God
 
 20 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AKD SALVATION. 
 
 takes not pleasure in the death of smners, but rather that 
 they return and live, Ezek. xxxiii. 11. But men take such 
 pleasure in sin, that they wiU die before they will return. 
 The Lord Jesus was content to be their Physician, and hath 
 provided them a sufficient plaster of his own blood : but il" 
 men make light of it, and will not apply it, what wonder if 
 they pei'ish after aU? This Scripture giveth us the reason 
 of their perdition. This, sad experience tells us, the most of 
 the world is guUty of. It is a most lamentable thing to see 
 how most men do spend their care, their time, theii* pains, 
 for known vanities, while God and glory are cast aside ; 
 that he who is all should seem to them as nothing, and that 
 which is nothing should seem to them as good as aU ; that 
 God should set manldnd in such a race where heaven or hell 
 is their certain end, and that they should sit down, and 
 loiter, or run after the childish toys of the world, and so 
 much forget the prize that they should run for. Were it 
 but possible for one of us to see the whole of this business 
 as the all-seeing God doth ; to see at one view both heaven 
 and hell, which men are so near ; and see what most men 
 in the world are minding, and what they are doing every 
 day, it would be the saddest sight that could be imagined. 
 Oh how should we marvel at then- madness, and lament 
 their self-delusion ! Oh poor distracted world ! what is it 
 you run after ? and what is it that you neglect ? If God 
 had never told them what they were sent into the world to 
 do, or wliither they were going, or what was before them 
 in another world, then they had been excusable ; but he 
 hath told them over and over, tUI they were weary of it. 
 Had he left it doubtftil, there had been some excuse ; but 
 it is his sealed word, and they profess to beheve it, and 
 would take it iU of us if we should question whether they 
 do believe it or not. 
 
 Beloved, I come not to accuse any of you particularly of 
 this crime ; but seemg it is the commonest cause of men's 
 destruction, I suppose you will judge it the fittest matter for 
 our inquiry, and deserving our greatest care for the cure. 
 To which end I shall, 1. Endeavour the conviction of the
 
 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION 21 
 
 guilty. 2. Shall give them such considerations as may 
 tend to humble and reform them. 3. I shall conclude 
 with such dii-ection as may help them that are wUliug to 
 escape the destroying power of this siu. And for the first, 
 consider, 
 
 1. It is the case of most sinners to think themselves 
 freest from those sins that they are most enslaved to ; and one 
 reason why we cannot reform them, is because we cannot 
 con%dnce them of their guilt. It is the natm'e of sin so f;u' 
 to blind and befool the sinner, that he knoweth not what 
 he doth, but thinketh he is free fi-om it when it reigneth 
 in him, or when he is committing it : it bringeth men to be 
 so much unacquainted vnih themselves, that they know not 
 what they think, or what they mean and intend, nor what 
 they love or hate, much less what they are habituated and 
 disposed to. They ai'e alive to sin, and dead to aU the 
 reason, consideration, and resolution that should i-ecover 
 them, as if it were only by their si nnin g that we must know 
 they are alive. May I hope that you that hear me to-day 
 ai'e but willing to know the truth of yom* case, and then I 
 shall be encouraged to proceed to an mquii-y. God will 
 judge impai"tially ; why should not we do so ? Let me, 
 therefore, by these following Cj[uestions, try whether none of 
 you are slighters of Christ and yom- o^v^l salvation. And 
 foUow me, I beseech you, by putting them close to your 
 own hearts, and faithfully answering them. 
 
 1. Things that men highly value wiU be remembered, 
 they vnH be matter of then- freest and sweetest thoughts. 
 This is a kno^Ti case. 
 
 Do not those then make light of Chiist and salvation that 
 think of them so seldom and coldly in comparison of other 
 things ? FoUow thy o^vn heart, man, and observe what it 
 daily runneth after ; and then judge whether it make not 
 light of Christ. 
 
 We cannot persuade men to one hoiu-'s sober considera- 
 tion what they shoidd do for an interest in Christ, or in 
 thankfulness for liis love, and yet they will not beUej'e that 
 they make light of him.
 
 22 JIAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. 
 
 2 . Things that we highly value will be matter of our dis- 
 course ; the judgment and heart will command the tongue. 
 Freely and deUghtfully will om- speech run after them. 
 This also is a known case. 
 
 Do not those then make light of Christ and salvation, 
 that shun the mention of his name, unless it be in a vain or 
 sinflil use? Those that love not the company where 
 Christ and salvation is much talked of, but think it trouble- 
 some, precise discourse : that had rather hear some merry 
 jests, or idle tales, or talk of theu- riches or business in the 
 world. When you may follow them fi'om morning to night, 
 and scarce have a savoury word of Christ ; but perhaps 
 some slight and weary mention of him sometimes; judge 
 whether these make not light of Christ and salvation. How 
 seriously do they talk of the world (Psal. cxliv. 8, 11) and 
 speak vanity ! but how heartlessly do they make mention of 
 Christ and salvation ! 
 
 3. The things that we highly A-alue we would secure the 
 possession of, and therefore would take any convenient 
 course to have all doubts and fears about them well resol- 
 ved. Do not those men then make light of Christ and sal- 
 vation that have lived twenty or thirty years in uncertainty 
 whether they have any part ui these or not, and yet never 
 seek out for the right resolution of their doubts? Are aU 
 that hear me this day certain they shall be saved ? Oh 
 that they were ! Oh, had you not made light of salvation, 
 you could not so easily bear such doubtings of it ; you could 
 not rest till you had made it sure, or done yom* best to 
 make it sure. Have you nobody, to inquire of, that might 
 help you in such a work ? AVliy, you have ministers that 
 ai'e purposely appointed to that office. Have you gone to 
 them, and told them the doubtfulness of your case, and 
 asked then* help in the judging of yom* condition ? Alas, 
 ministers may sit m theu* studies from one year to another, 
 before ten persons among a thousand will come to them 
 on such an errand ! Do not these make light of Christ 
 and salvation ? When the gospel pierceth the heart indeed, 
 they cry out, " Men and brethren, what shall we do to be
 
 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. 23 
 
 saved?" Acts x\i. 30. Trembling and astonished, Paul 
 ci-ies out, "Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?" Acts 
 ix. 6. And so did the convinced Jews to Peter, Acts ii. 
 37. But when hear we such questions? 
 
 4. The things that we value do deeply affect us, and some 
 motions will be in the heart according to our estimation of 
 them. O sirs, if men made not light of these things, what 
 working would there be in the hearts of all our hearers ! 
 What strange affections would it raise in them to hear of 
 the matters of the world to come ! Plow would their hearts 
 melt before the power of the gospel ! What sorrow would 
 be wrought in the discovery of their sins ! WTiat astonish- 
 ment at the consideration of their miseiy ! WTiat unspeak- 
 able joy at the glad tidings of salvation by the blood of 
 Christ ! "V^Tiat resolution would be raised in them upon the 
 discovery of theii* duty ! Oh %vhat hearers should we have, 
 if it were not for this sin ! Whereas now we are liker to 
 weary them, or preach them asleep with matters of this un- 
 speakable moment. We tallc to them of Christ and salva- 
 tion till we make their heads ache : httle would one thinic 
 by theu* careless carriage that they heard and regarded what 
 we said, or thought we spoke at all to them. 
 
 6. Our estimation of things vnH be seen in the diligence 
 of our endeavours. That which we highliest value, we shall 
 think no pauis too great to obtain. Do not those men then 
 make light of Chiist and salvation, that think all too much 
 that they do for them; that miu^nm* at his serace, and 
 think it too gi-ievous for them to endure ? that ask of his 
 service as Judas of the ointment. What need this waste ? 
 Cannot men be saved without so much ado ? Tliis is more 
 ado than needs. For the world they %vill labour all the 
 day, and all their Uves ; but for Christ and salvation they 
 are afi-aid of doing too much. Let us preach to them as 
 long as we will, we cannot bring them to relish or resolve 
 upon alif' of holiness. Follow them to their houses, and 
 you sludl not hear them read a chapter, nor call upon God 
 with their families once a day : nor ^viU they allow him that 
 one day in seven which he hath separated to his service.
 
 24 MAKIXG LIGHT OF CHRIST A>'D SAI.VATIOX. 
 
 But pleasure, or -worldly business, or idleness, must hare a 
 part. And many of them are so far hardened as to reproach 
 them that ■will not be as mad as themselves. And is not 
 Chidst -worth the seeking ? Is not everlasting salvation 
 -worth more than all this ? Doth not that soul make hght 
 of all these, that thinks his ease more -worth than they ? 
 Let but conmion sense judge. 
 
 6. That Tvliich -we most highly value, -we think -we cannot 
 buy too dear : Chi'ist and salvation are ti-eely given, and 
 yet the most of men go -without them, because they cannot 
 enjoy the -world and them together. They ai'e called but 
 to part -with that -which -would hinder them fi-om Chiist, and 
 they -will not do it. They are called but to give God his 
 o-wn, and to resign all to his -wiU, and let go the j^rofits and 
 pleasures of this -world, -when they must let go either Christ 
 or them, and they -wiU not. They think this too dear a 
 bai-giun. and say they cannot spare these things : they 
 must hold their credit -with men; they must look to their 
 estates : ho-w shall they live else '? They must have their 
 pleasure, -«-hatsoever becomes of Christ and salvation : as if 
 they could Uve -without Christ better than without these : as 
 if they -were afi'aid of being losers by Christ, or could make 
 a sa-dng match by losing their soids to gain the -world. 
 Christ hath told us over and over, that if -we -will not for- 
 sake all for him -we cannot be his disciples, ^Matt. x. Far 
 are these men fi-om for^saking aU, and yet -will needs think 
 that they are his disciples indeed. 
 
 7. That -which men highly esteem, they -would help their 
 fiiends to as -well as themselves. Do not those men make 
 light of Chiist and salvation, that can t;vke so much care 
 to leave theii* children portions m the -world, and do so little 
 to help them to heaven ? that provide outward neces- 
 saries so cai'eMly for their families, but do so Kttle to 
 the savuig of their souls? Their neglected children and 
 fiiends will witness, that either Chi-ist, or then- children's 
 souls, or both, were made light of 
 
 8. That -which men highly esteem, they -wiU so diligently 
 seek after, that you may see it in the success, if it be a
 
 3IAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AXD SALVATIOX. 25 
 
 matter Tvithin their reach. You may see how many make 
 light of Christ, by the Httle knowledge they have of him, 
 and the little communion with him, and communication 
 fi'om him ; and the little, yea, none of his special grace in 
 them. Alas ! how many ministers can speak it to the sor- 
 row of their hearts, that many of their people know almost 
 nothing of Christ, though they hear of him daily ! Xor 
 know they what they must do to be saved : if we ask them 
 an account of these things, they answer as if they under- 
 stood not what we say to them, and tell us they ai'e no 
 scholars, and therefore think they are excusable for their 
 ignorance. Oh if these men had not made light of Christ 
 and their salvation, but had bestowed but half as much pains 
 to know and enjoy him as they have done to vmderstand 
 the matters of their trades and callings in the world, they 
 would not have been so ignorant as they are : they make 
 light of these things, and therefore will not be at the pains 
 to study or learn them. When men that can learn the 
 hardest trade in a few years, have not learned a catechism, 
 nor how to understand their creed, under twenty- or thirty 
 years' preaching, nor can abide to be questioned about such 
 things ; doth not this shew that they have slighted them in 
 their hearts ? How will these despisers of Christ and sal- 
 vation be able one day to look him in the face, and to give 
 an account of these neglects ? 
 
 Thus much I have spoken in order to your con^-iction. 
 Do not some of your consciences by this time smite vou, 
 and say, I am the man that have made Hght of my salva- 
 tion ? If they do not, it is because you make light of it 
 still, for all that is said to you. But "because, if it be the 
 will of the Lord, I would fain have this damning distemper 
 ciu-ed, and am loth to leave you in such a de^erate condi- 
 tion, if I knew how to remedy it, I will give you some con- 
 siderations, which may move you, if you be men of reason 
 and understanding, to look better about you ; and I be- 
 seech you to weigh them, and make use of them as we go, 
 and lay open your hearts to the work of grace, and sadly
 
 26 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. 
 
 bethink you what a case you are in, if you prove such as 
 make light of Christ. 
 
 Consider, 1. Thou makest hght of him that made not 
 light of thee who didst deserve it. Thou wast worthy of no- 
 thing but contempt. As a man, what art thou but a worm 
 to God ? As a sinner, thou art far viler than a toad : yet 
 Christ was so far from making light of thee and thy happi- 
 ness, that he came down into the flesh, and lived a life of 
 suffering, and offered himself a sacrifice to the justice which 
 thou hadst provoked, that thy miserable soul might have a 
 remedy. It is no less than miracles of love and mercy, that 
 he hath shewed to us : and yet shall we sHght them after all? 
 
 Angels admire them, whom they less concern (1 Pet. i. 
 12), and shall redeemed sinners make light of them? 
 What barbarous, yea, devilish, yea, worse than deviHsh in- 
 gratitude is this ! The devils never had a saviour offered 
 them, but thou hast, and dost thou yet make hght of Him ? 
 
 2. Consider, the work of man's salvation by Jesus 
 Christ is the master-piece of all the works of God, wherein 
 he would have his love and mercy to be magnified. As the 
 creation declareth his goodness and power, so doth redemp- 
 tion his goodness and mercy ; he hath contrived the very 
 frame of his worship so, that it shall much consist in the 
 magnifying of this work ; and after all this, will you make 
 light of it? " His name is Wonderful," Isa. ix. 6. " He 
 did the work that none could do," John xv. 24. " Greater 
 love could none shew than his," John xv. 13. How great 
 was the evil and misery that he delivered us from ! the good 
 procured for us ! AU are wonders, from his birth to his ascen- 
 sion ; from our new birth to our glorification, all are won- 
 ders of matchless mercy — and yet do you make Hght of 
 them? 
 
 3 . You make light of matters of greatest excellency and 
 moment in the world : you know not what it is that you 
 slight : had you well known, you could not have done it. 
 As Christ said to the woman of Samaria (John iv. 10), 
 Hadst thou known who it is that speakest to thee, thou
 
 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. 27 
 
 wouldst have asked of him the waters of life: had they 
 known they would not have crucified the Lord of glory, 1 
 Cor. ii. 8. So had you known what Christ is, you would 
 not have made hght of him ; had you been one day in 
 heaven, and but seen what they possess, and seen also what 
 miserable souls must endure that are shut out, you would 
 never siu-e have made so light of Christ again. 
 
 sirs, it is no trifles or jesting mattere that the gospel 
 speaks of. I must needs profess to you, that when I have 
 the most serious thoughts of these things myself, I am ready 
 to marvel that such amazing matters do not overwhelm the 
 souls of men ; that the gi-eatness of the subject doth not so 
 overmatch our understandings and affections, as even to 
 drive men beside themselves, but that God hath always 
 somewhat allayed it by the distance : much more that men 
 should be so blockish as to make light of them. O Lord, 
 that men did but know what everlasting glory and ever- 
 lasting torments are ; would they then hear us as they do ? 
 would they read and think of these things as they do ? 
 I profess I have been ready to wonder, when I have heard 
 such weighty things deUvered, how people can forbear cry- 
 ing out in the congregation ; much more how they can rest 
 till they have gone to their ministers, and learned what they 
 should do to be saved, that this gi-eat business might be put 
 out of doubt. Oh that heaven and hell should work no 
 more on men ! Oh that everlastingness should work no 
 more ! Oh how can you forbeai* when you are alone to 
 think with yourselves what it is to be everlastingly in joy or 
 in torment ! I wonder t;hat such thoughts do not break your 
 sleep ; and that they come not in your mind when you are 
 about yom- labour ! I wonder how you caji almost do any 
 thing else ! how you can have any quietness in your minds ! 
 how you can eat, or drink, or rest, till you have got some 
 ground of everlasting consolations ! Is that a man or a corpse 
 that is not affected with matters of this moment ? that can 
 be readier to sleep than to tremble when he heareth how he 
 must stand at the bar of God ? Is that a man or a clod of 
 clay that can rise and lie dowTi without beuig deeply
 
 28 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AIND SALVATION. 
 
 affected witli liis everlasting estate? that can follow Lis 
 worldly business, and make nothing of tlie great business of 
 salvation or damnation ; and that when they know it is 
 hard at hand ! Truly, su-s, when I think of the weight of the 
 matter, I wonder at the very best of God's saints upon 
 earth that they are no better, and do no more in so weighty 
 a case. I wonder at those whom the world accounteth more 
 holy than needs, and scorns for making too much ado, that 
 they can put oif Christ and their soids -with so Uttle ; that 
 they pour not out their souls in every supplication ; that 
 they are not more taken up with God ; that their thoughts 
 be not more serious in preparation for their account. I 
 wonder that they be not a hundi-ed times more strict in 
 their lives, and more laborious and imwearied in striring for 
 the crown, than they are. And for myself, as I am ashamed 
 of my dull and careless heart, and of my slow and unpro- 
 fitable course of life ; so the Lord knows I am ashamed of 
 every sermon that I preach : when I think what I have been 
 speaking of, and who sent me, and what men's salvation or 
 damnation is so much concerned in it, I am ready to tremble, 
 lest God should judge me as a sUghter of his truth, and the 
 souls of men, and lest in the best sermon I should be guilty 
 of their blood. Methinks we should not speak a word to 
 men in matters of such consequence without tears, or the 
 greatest earnestness that possibly we can : were not we too 
 much guilty of the sui wliich we reprove, it would be so. 
 "Whether we are alone, or in company, methinks our end, 
 and such an end, shoidd still be in our mind, and as before 
 our eyes ; and we should sooner forget any thing, and set 
 light by. any thing, or by all things, than by this. 
 
 Consider, 4. Wlio is it that sends this weighty message 
 to you ? Is it not God himself? Shall the God of heaven 
 speak, and men make hght of it ? You would not sUght the 
 voice of an angel, or a prince. 
 
 6. Whose salvation is it that you make hght of? Is it 
 not your own ? Are you no more near or dear to your- 
 selves than to make light of yom' own happiness or misery ? 
 \Miy, sirs, do you not care whether you be saved or damned?
 
 MAKTN'G LIGHT OF CHRIST A^fD SALVATION. 29 
 
 is self-love lost ? are you turned your own enemies ? As he 
 that slighteth his meat doth slight his life ; so if you slight 
 Christ, whatsoever you may think, you will find it was your 
 own salvation that you slighted. Hear what he saith, " All 
 they that hate me love death," Prov. liii. 36. 
 
 6. Your sin is greater, in that you profess to believe the 
 gospel which you make so light of. For a professed infidel 
 to do it that beUeves not that eA'er Christ died, or rose 
 agaui ; or doth not believe that there is a heaven or hell ; 
 this were no such marv^el : but for you that make it your 
 creed, and your verj-- religion, and call yoru-selves Christians, 
 and have been baptized into this faith, and seemed to stand 
 to it, this is the wonder, and hath no excuse. "\^Tiat ! be- 
 lieve that you shall live in endless joy or torment, and yet 
 make no more of it to escape torment, and obtain that joy ! 
 "Wliat ! believe that God will shortly judge you, and yet 
 make no more preparation for it ! Either say plainly, I am 
 no Christian, I do not believe these wonderful things, I will 
 beheve notliing but what I see ; or else let your hearts be 
 affected with your belief, and five as you say you do believe. 
 "WTiat do you think when you repeat the creed, and men- 
 tion Christ's judgment and everlasting life? 
 
 7. "What are these things you set so much by, as to pre- 
 fer them before Christ and the saving of your souls ? HaA-e 
 you foimd a better fi-iend, a greater and surer happiness 
 than this ? Good Lord ! what dung is it that men make so 
 much of, while they set so light by everlasting glory ! ^Miat 
 toys are they that they are daily taken up with, while mat- 
 ters of life and death are neglected ! ^Tiy, sirs, if you had 
 every one a kingdom in your hopes, what were it in com- 
 parison of the everlastmg kingdom? I cannot but look 
 upon all the glory and dignity of this world, lands and lord- 
 sliips, croAvns and kingdoms, even as on some brain-sick, 
 beggarly fellow, that borroAveth fine clothes, and plays the 
 part of a king or a lord for an hour on a stage, and then 
 comes down, and the sport is ended, and they are beggars 
 again. Were it not for God's interest in the authority of 
 magistrates, or for the service they might do him, I should
 
 80 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SAXVATION. 
 
 judge no better of tbem. For as to their own glory, it is 
 but a smoke : what matter is it whether you live poor or 
 rich, unless it were a gi'eater matter to die rich than it is ? 
 You know Avell enough that death levels all. What matter 
 is it at judgment, whether you be to answer for the life of a 
 rich man or a poor man ? Is Dives then any better than 
 Lazarus ? O that men knew what a poor deceiving shadow 
 they grasp at, while they let go the everlasting substance ! 
 The strongest, and richest, and most voluptuous sinners, do 
 but lay in fuel for theu" sorrows, while they think they are 
 gathering together a treasm-e. Alas ! they are asleep, and 
 dream that they are happy ; but when they awake, what a 
 change will they find ! Theii' crown is made of thorns : their 
 pleasure hath such a sting as will stick in the heart through 
 all eternity, except vmfeigned repentance do prevent it. 
 O how sadly will these wretches be convinced ere long, 
 what a foolish bargain they made in selling Christ and their 
 salvation for these ti'ifies ! Let your farms and merchandise 
 then save you if they can ; and do that for you that Christ 
 would have done. Cry then to thy Baal to save thee ! Oh 
 what thoughts have drunkards and adulterers, &c. of Christ, 
 that will not part with the basest lust for him ! " For a 
 piece of bread," saith Solomon, " such men do transgress," 
 Prov. xxviii. 11. 
 
 8. To set so light by Christ and salvation, is a certain 
 mark that thou hast no part in them, and if thou so con- 
 tinue, that Christ will set as light by thee : " Those that 
 honour him he ^411 honour, and those that despise him shall 
 be hghtly esteemed," 1 Sam. ii. 30. Thou wilt feel one 
 day that thou canst not live without him ; thou wilt confess 
 then thy need of him ; and then thou maj'est go look for a 
 saviour where thou wilt ; for he will be no saviour for thee 
 hereafter, that wouldst not value him, and submit to him 
 here. Then who will prove the loser by thy contempt? 
 O what a thing Avill it be for a poor miserable soul to cry 
 to Christ for help in the day of extremity, and to hear so 
 sad an answer as I'uis ! Thou didst set light by me and my 
 law ill the day of th}' prosperit}-, and 1 will now set as light
 
 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST A>fD SALVATION. 3 1 
 
 by thee in thy adversity. Read Prov. i. 24, to the end. 
 Thou that, as Esau, didst sell thy buthright for a mess of 
 pottage, shalt then find no place for repentance, though thou 
 seek it with tears, Heb. xii. 17. Do you think that Christ 
 shed his blood to save them that continue to make light of 
 it? and to save them that value a cup of drink or a lust be- 
 fore his salvation ? I tell you, sii'S, though you set so light 
 by Christ and salvation, God doth not so : he will not give 
 them on such tenns as these : he valueth the blood of his 
 Son, and the everlasting glory ; and he will make you value 
 them if ever }ou have them. Nay, this will be thy con- 
 demnation, and leaveth no remedy. All the world cannot 
 save him that sets light by Christ, Heb. ii. 3 ; Luke xiv. 
 24. None of them shall taste of his supper, Matt. x. 37. 
 Nor can you blame him to deny you what you made light 
 of youi-selves. Can you find fliult if you miss of the salva- 
 tion which you slighted ? 
 
 9. The time is near when Clu-ist and salvation will not 
 be made Hght of as now they are. When God hath shaken 
 those careless souls out of theu- bodies, and you must an- 
 swer for all your sins in your own name ; oh then what 
 would you give for a sa-viour ! "When a thousand bills 
 shall be brought in against you, and none to reheve you ; 
 then you will consider. Oh ! Christ would now have stood 
 between me and the wrath of God : had I not despised him, 
 be would have answered all. When you see the world hath 
 left you, and your companions in sin have deceived them- 
 selves and you, and all yom* merry days are gone ; then 
 what would you give for that Christ and salvation that now 
 you account not worth yom* labour ! Do you think when 
 you see the judgment set, and you are doomed to everlast- 
 ing perdition for your wickedness, that you should then 
 make as light of Christ as now ? ^\Tiy AviU you not judge 
 now as you know you shall judge then ? AMU he then be 
 worth ten thousand worlds ? and is he not now worth your 
 highest estimation and dearest affection ? 
 
 10. God will not only deny thee that salvation thou 
 madest light of, but he will take from thee all that which
 
 32 JIAKIXG LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION". 
 
 thou didst value before it : he that most highly esteems 
 Christ shall have him, and the creatures so far as they are 
 good here, and him Avithout the creature hereafter, because 
 the creature is not useful ; and he that sets more by the 
 creature than by Chi'ist, shall have some of the creature 
 without Chiist here, and neither Christ nor it hereafter. 
 
 So much of these considerations, which may shew the true 
 face of this heinous sin. 
 
 What thiiik you now, fiiends, of this business ? Do you 
 not see by this time what a case that soul is in that maketh 
 light of Christ and salvation ? ^^Tiat need then is there 
 that you should take heed lest this should prove your own 
 case ! The Lord knows it is too common a case. WTioever 
 is found guilty at the last of this sin, it were better for that 
 man he had never been bom. It were better for lum he 
 had been a Turk or Indian, that never had heard the name 
 of a SaA^our, and that never had salvation offered to him : 
 for such men " have no cloak for their sin," John xv. 22. 
 Besides all the rest of their sins, they have this killing sin 
 to answer for, which will undo them. And this Tvill aggra- 
 vate their misery, that Christ whom they set light by must 
 be their Judge, and for this sin will he judge them. Oh 
 that such would now consider how they ■will answer that 
 question that Christ put to their predecessors, "How will 
 ye escape the damnation of hell?" !Matt. xxiii. 33: or, 
 " How shall we escape if we neglect so great salvation? " 
 Heb. ii. 3. Can you escape without a Christ? or will a 
 despised Christ save you then ? If he be accursed that sets 
 light by father or mother (Deut. xx^ii. 16), what then is 
 he that sets light by Christ ? It was the heinous sin of 
 the Jews, that among them were found such as set light by 
 father and mother, Ezek. xxii. 7. But among us, men 
 slight the Father of spirits ! In the name of God, brethren, 
 I beseech you to consider how you vciW then bear his anger 
 which you noAvmak^i light of! You that cannot make light 
 of a little sickness or want, or of natural death, no, not of a 
 tooth-ache, but groan as if you were undone ; how will you 
 then make light of the fury of the Lord, which will bum
 
 MAKTSTG LIGHT OF CUEIST AfST> SALA^ATION. 33 
 
 against the contenmers of lils grace ! Doth it not behove 
 you beforehand to think of these things ? 
 
 Hitherto I have been con^-incrng you of the evil of the 
 sin, and the danger that followeth : I come now to know 
 your resolution for the time to come. What say you ? Do 
 you mean to set as light by Christ and salvation as hitherto 
 you have done ; and to be the same men after all this ? I 
 hope not. Oh let not your ministers that would fain save 
 you, be brought in as witnesses against you to condemn 
 you ; at least, I beseech you, put not this upon me. ^^Tiy, 
 sirs, if the Lord shall say to us at judgment, Did you never 
 tell these men what Christ did for their souls, and what 
 need they had of liim, and how nearly it did concern them 
 to look to their salvation, that they made light of it ? We 
 must needs say the truth ; Yea, Lord, we told them of it 
 as plainly as we could; we would have gone on our knees 
 to them if we had thought it would have prevailed ; we 
 did entreat them as earnestly as we could to consider 
 these things : they heard of these things every day ; but, 
 alas, we could never get them to their hearts : they gave 
 us the hearing, but they made light of all that we coidd 
 say to them. Oh ! sad will it prove on yom- side, if }-ou 
 force us to such an answer as this. 
 
 But if the Lord do move the hearts of any of you, and 
 you resolve to make Ught of Christ no more ; or if any of 
 you say. We do not make Hght of him ; let me teU you here 
 in the conclusion what you must do, or else you shall be 
 judged as slighters of Christ and salvation. 
 
 And fii'st I win teU you what will not serve the turn. 
 
 1. You may have a notional knowledge of Christ, and 
 the necessity of his blood, and of the excellency of salvation, 
 and yet perish as neglecters of him. This is too common 
 among professed Chiistians. You may say all that other 
 men do of him : what gospel passages had Balaam ! Jesus 
 I know, and Paid I know, the very devils could say, who 
 believe and tremble, James ii. 19. 
 
 2. You may weep at the historj- of Christ's passion, when 
 
 c
 
 3 4 MAKIXG LIGHT OF CHRIST AXD S.AXVATIOX. 
 
 you read how he was used by the Jews, and }'et make light 
 of him, and perish for so doing. 
 
 3. You may come desii-oubly to his word and ordinances. 
 Herod heard gladh' ; so do many that yet must perish as 
 neglect ers of salvation. 
 
 4. You may in a fit of fear have strong desires after a 
 Christ, to ease you, and to save }ou from God's \\Tath, as 
 Saul had of David to play before hmi ; and }'et }'ou may 
 perish for making hght of Christ. 
 
 5. You may obey him in many things so far as ■will not 
 ruin you in the world, and escape much of the pollutions of 
 the world by his knowledge, and yet neglect him. 
 
 6. You may suffer and lose much for him, so far as leaveth 
 you an earthly fehcity ; as Ananias ; and the young man, 
 Matt. xix. 16-22. Some parcels of their pleasures and 
 profits many -will part Avith in hope of salvation, that shall 
 perish everlastmgly for valuing it no more. 
 
 7. You may be esteemed by others a man zealous for 
 Chi'ist, and loved and admii'ed upon that accomit, and yet be 
 one that shall perish for makhig Ught of him. 
 
 8. You may verily tlimk yom'selves, that you set more 
 by Christ and salvation than any thing, and yet be mistaken, 
 and be judged as conteumers of him : Christ justifieth not 
 all that justify themselves. 
 
 9. You may be zealous preachers of Christ and salvation, 
 and reprove others for this neglect, and lament the sin of 
 the world in the Hke expression as I have done this day ; 
 and }-et if you or I have no better evidence to prove om' 
 heaity esteem of Christ and salvation, we are undone for 
 all this. 
 
 You hear, brethren, what will not serve the turn ; a\t11 
 you now hear what persons you must be if you would not 
 be condemned as slighters of Christ? O search whether it 
 be thus with your souls or no ! 
 
 1. Yom' esteem of Christ and salvation must be gi'eater 
 than your esteem of all the honours, profits, or pleasures of 
 this world, or else you slight him : no less will be accounted 
 sincere, nor accepted to yom- salvation. Think not this
 
 MAKESTG LIGHT OF CHRIST AXD SALVATION. 35 
 
 hard, when there is no comparison in the matters esteemed. 
 To esteem the gi-eatest glory on earth before Christ and 
 everhisting glory, is a gi'eater foil}' and A\Tong to Christ, 
 than to esteem a dog before yom* prince, Avould be folly in 
 you, and a wi-ong to him. Scripture is plain in this ; " He 
 that loveth father or mother, wife, children, house, land, or 
 his o\vn life, more than me, is not worthy of me, and cannot 
 be my disciple," Matt. x. 37 ; Luke xiv. 26. 
 
 2. You must manifest this esteem of Christ and salvation 
 in yom- daily endeavours and seeking after hkn, and in part- 
 ing -vrith any thmg that he shall require of you. God is a 
 Spirit, and vnR not take a hj-jjocritical profession instead of 
 the heart and spiritual sei-vice which he commandeth. He 
 wiU. have the heart or nothing ; and the chief room in the 
 heart too : these must be had. 
 
 If you say that you do not make Hght of Christ, or will 
 not hereafter ; let me try you in these few jjarticulai's, 
 whether indeed )ou mean as jou say, and do not dissemble. 
 
 1. ^\i]l you for the time to come make Chi'ist and salva- 
 tion the chiefest matter of }-our care and study ? Thi'ust them 
 not out of your thoughts as a needless or unprofitable sub- 
 ject ; nor allow it only some running, slight thoughts, which 
 will not affect you. But will you make it yoiu* business 
 once a day to bethink you soberl}-, when you are alone, 
 what Christ hath done for you, and Avhat he wiU do, if you 
 do not make hght of it ; and what it is to be everlastingly 
 happy or miserable ? And what all things m this world are 
 in comparison of your salvation ; and how they will shortly 
 leave you ; and what mind }ou vnR be then of, and how 
 you wdll esteem them ? "Will you promise me now and then 
 to make it yom" business to -withdraw yom'sulves fi-om the 
 world, and set yom'selves to such considerations as these ? If 
 you -win not, are not you shghters of Christ and salvadon, 
 that -Hill not be persuaded soberly to thuik on them V This 
 is ni}- fii-st question to put you to the trial, whether you will 
 value Chiist or not. 
 
 2. AVill you for the time to come set more by the word of 
 God, which contains the discovery of these excellent thing's,
 
 86 JL4.KING LIGHT OF CHRIST A>sD S.VLVATIOX, 
 
 and is your charter for salvation, and your guide thereunto ? 
 You cannot set by Chiist, but you must set by his word : 
 therefore the despisers of it are threatened with destruction, 
 Prov. xiii. 13. Will you therefore attend to the public 
 preaching of this word ; will you read it daily ; wIU you re- 
 solve to obey it whatever it may cost you ? If you will not 
 do this, but make light of the word of God, you shaU be 
 judged as such as make light of Chi-ist and salvation, what- 
 ever you may fondly promise to yourselves. 
 
 3 . Will you for the time to come esteem more of the offi- 
 cers of Christ, whom he hath purposely appointed to guide 
 you to salvation ; and will you make use of them for that ■ 
 end ? Alas, it is not to give the minister a good word, and 
 speak weU of him, and pay him his tithes duly, that will 
 serve the turn : it is for the necessity of your souls that God 
 hath set them in his chm'ch ; that they may be as physicians 
 under Chi'ist, or his apothecaries to apply his remedies to 
 your spiritual diseases, not onl}' in public, but also in private : 
 that you may have some to go to for the resohing of your 
 doubts, and for your instruction where you are ignorant, and 
 for the help of their exhortations and prayers. Will you 
 use hereafter to go to your ministers privately, and solicit 
 them for ad\ice ? And if you have not such of your own as 
 are fit, get advice from others ; and ask them. What you 
 shall do to be saved ? how to prepare for death and judg- 
 ment ? And will you obey the word of God in their 
 mouths ? If you will not do this much, nor so much as 
 inquii-e of those that should teach you, nor use the means 
 which Christ hath established in his chm-ch for yom- help, 
 your own consciences shall one day witness that you were 
 such as made light of Christ and salvation. If any of you 
 doubt whether it be your duty thus to ask coimsel of your 
 teachers, as sick men do of their physicians, let yom- own 
 necessities resolve you, let God's express word resolve you ; 
 see what is said of the priests of the Lord, even before 
 Christ's coming, when much of their work did lie in cere- 
 monials : " ]My covenant was with him of life and peace : 
 and I gave them to him (to Levi) for the fear wherewith
 
 MAKLN'G LIGHT OF CKRIST AXD SALVATION. 37 
 
 he feared me, and was afraid before my name. The law of 
 truth was in his mouth, and iniqmty was not found in his 
 lips ; he walked with me in peace and equity, and did tm'n 
 many away from iniquity. For the priest's lips should keep 
 loiowledge, and they should seek the law at his mouth : for 
 he is the messenger of the Lord of hosts," Mai. ii. 5, 6. 
 
 Nay, you must not only uu{uu-e, and submit to then* ad- 
 vice, but also to theu' just reprehensions, and church cen- 
 sures ; and mthout proud repining submit to the discipline 
 of Christ in their hands, if it shall be used hi the congrega- 
 tions whereof you are members. 
 
 4. Will you for the time to come make conscience of 
 daily and earnest prayer to God, that you may have a part 
 in Christ and salvation ? Do not go out of doors till you 
 have breathed out these desires to God ; do not he down 
 to rest tni you have breathed out these desires : say not, 
 God knoweth my necessity without so often prajing ; for 
 though he do, yet he will have you to laiow them, and feel 
 them, and exercise your desu'es and all the graces of his 
 Spu'it in these duties : it is he that hath commanded to pray 
 continually, though he know your needs without it, 1 Thess. 
 V. 17. Christ himself spent whole nights in prayer, and 
 encourageth us to this course, Luke x\m. 1. If you will 
 not be persuaded to this much, how can you say that you 
 make not hght of Christ and salvation ? 
 
 5. Will you for the time to come resolvedly cast away 
 your knoAvn sins at the command of Christ ? If you have 
 been proud, or contentious, or malicious, and revengeftd, be 
 so no more. If you have been adulterers, or swearers, or 
 cursers, be so no more. You cannot hold these, and yet set 
 by Christ and salvation. 
 
 "^Tiat say you ? Are you resolved to let them go ? If 
 not, when you know it is the will of Christ, and he hath 
 told you such shall not enter into his kingdom, do not you 
 make light of him ? 
 
 6. 'WJll you for the tmie to come serve God m the dearest 
 as well as in the cheapest pait of liis service ? not only with 
 your tongues, but with your purses and yoiu- deetls ? Shall
 
 38 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AXD SALVATION. 
 
 the poor find that you set more by Christ than this world ? 
 Shall it appear in anj' good uses that God calls you to be 
 liberal in, according to your abilities ? " Pure religion and 
 nndefiled before God is this, To ^^sit the fatherless and the 
 widows in their affliction," James i. 27. Will you resolve 
 to stick to Christ, and make sure this work of salvation, 
 though it cost you all that you have in the world ? If you 
 think these terms too dear, you make light of Christ, and 
 will be judged accordingly. 
 
 7. Will you for the time to come make much of all things 
 that tend to your salvation ; and take every help that God 
 offereth you, and gladly make use of all his ordinances? 
 Attend upon his strengthening sacraments ; spend the Lord's 
 own day in these holy empIo}inents ; instruct your children and 
 servants in these things, Deut. vl. 6, 7 ; get into good com- 
 pany that set their feces heavenward, and will teach you the 
 way, and help you thither ; and take heed of the company 
 of wicked scorners, or foolish, voluptuous, fleshly men, or 
 any that would hinder you in this work. Will you do these 
 things ? Or will you shew that you are slighters of Christ 
 by neglecting them ? 
 
 8. Will you do all this with delight ; not as your toil, 
 but as your pleasure ? And take it for your highest ho- 
 nour that you may be Christ's disciples, and may be ad- 
 mitted to serve and worship him ; and rejoice with holy 
 confidence in the sufficiency of that sacrifice by which you 
 may have pardon of all your fallings, and right to the in- 
 heritance of the saints in light ? If you Avill do these things 
 sincerely, you will shew that you set by Christ and salva- 
 tion ; else not. 
 
 Dearly beloved In the Lord, I have now done that work 
 which I came upon ; what effect It hath, or will have, upon 
 your hearts, I know not. nor Is It any further in my power 
 to accomplish that which my soul desireth for you. Were 
 It the Lord's will that I might have my wish herein, the 
 words that you have this day heard should so stick by you, 
 that the secure should be awakened by them, and none of 
 you should perish by the slighting of your salvation. I
 
 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. 39 
 
 cannot now follow yon to }'oiir several habitations to apply 
 this word to your particular necessities ; but O that I 
 could make every man's conscience a preacher to himself 
 that it might do it, which is ever with you ! — That the next, 
 time you go prayerless to bed, or about your business, 
 conscience might cry out. Dost thou set no more by Christ 
 and thy salvation ? That the next time you are tempted to 
 think hardly of a holy and diligent life (I will not say to de- 
 ride it as more ado than needs), conscience might cry out 
 to thee. Dost thou set so light by Christ and thy salvation ? 
 That the next time you are ready to rush upon known sin, 
 and to please your fleshly desires against the command of 
 God, conscience might cry out. Is Christ and salvation no 
 more worth, than to cast them aAvay, or venture them for 
 thy lusts ? That when you are following the world with 
 3^our most eager desires, forgetting the world to come, and 
 the change that is a Uttle before j^ou, conscience might cry 
 out to you. Is Christ and salvation no more worth than so ? 
 That when you are next spending the Lord's day in idleness 
 or vain sports, conscience might tell you what you are 
 doing. In a word, that in all your neglects of duty, your 
 sticking at the supposed labour or cost of a godly life, yea, 
 in all your cold and lazy prayers and pei-tbrmances, con- 
 science might teU j'ou how unsuitable such endeavours are 
 to the reward ; and that Christ and salvation should not be 
 so slighted. I will say no more but this at this time. It is a 
 thousand pities that when God hath provided a Sa\aour for 
 the world, and Avhen Christ hath suffered so much for their 
 sins, and made so full a satisfaction to justice, and purchased 
 so glorious a kingdom for his saints, and all this is offered so 
 freely to sinners, to lost, unworthy sinners, even for no- 
 tliing, that yet so many millions should everlastingly perish 
 because they make hght of theii* Savioiu- and salvation, and 
 prefer the vain world and their lusts before them. I have 
 delivered my message, the Lord open your hearts to receive 
 it. I have persuaded you with the word of truth and 
 soberness; the Lord persuade you more effectually, or else 
 all this is lost. Amen.
 
 A 
 
 CALL TO THE UiNCO.XVERTED 
 
 TOTURNANDLIVE, 
 
 AND ACCEPT OF MEKCT WHILE MEKCY MAY BE HAD, AS EVER THEY 
 WODID FIND MEKCr IN THE DAT OF THEIR EXTREMITY ; 
 
 FROM THE LIVING GOD: 
 
 To tvhich are added. Forms of Prayer for Morning and Evening for a 
 Family, for a penitent Sinntr, and for the Lord's Day.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 In that short acquaintance I had with that reverend learned 
 servant of Christ, Bishop Usher, he was oft, from first to 
 last, importuning me to write a tUrectory for the several 
 ranks of professed Christians, which might distinctly give each 
 one their portion ; beginning mth the unconverted, and 
 then proceeding to tlie babes in Christ, and then to the 
 strong ; and mixing some special helps against the several 
 sins that they are addicted to. By the suddenness of his 
 motion at our first congress, I perceived it was in his mind 
 before ; and I told him, both that it was abundantly done 
 by many already, and that his unacquaintedness with my 
 weakness, might make him think me fitter for It then I was. 
 But this did not satisfy him, but still he made it his request. 
 I confess I was not moved by his reasons, nor did I appre- 
 hend any great need of doing more than is done in that 
 way: nor that I was likely to do more. And, therefore, I 
 parted fi'om him without the least purpose to answer his 
 desire. But smce his death, his words often canie into my 
 mind ; and the great reverence I bore to him, did the more 
 Incline me to think with some complacency of his motion. 
 And having of late Intended to wi-ite a " Family Directory," 
 I began to apprehend how congruously the forementloned 
 work should lead the way ; and the several conditions of 
 men's souls be spoken of, before we come to the several 
 relations. Hereupon I resolved, by God's assistance, to 
 proceed in the order following. First, to speak to the Im- 
 penitent, unconverted sinners, who are not yet so much as 
 purposing to turn ; or at least are not setting about the 
 work. And with these, I thought, a wakening persuasive 
 v/as a more necessary means than mere dii'ections ; for 
 directions suppose men wlUing to obey them. But the per- 
 sons that we have fii-st to deal with, are wHful and asleep in
 
 44 PREFACE. 
 
 sin, and as men that are past feeling, having given them- 
 selves over to sin with gi-eediness, Eph. iv. 19. My next 
 work must be for those that have some pm-poses to turn, 
 and are about the work, to direct them for a thorough and a 
 true conversion, that they miscarry not in the birth. The 
 third part must be directions for the younger and weaker 
 sort of Christians, that they may be established, built 
 up, and persevere. The fourth part, directions for lapsed 
 and backsliding Christians, for their safe recovery. Besides 
 these, there is intended some short persuasions and direc- 
 tions against some special errors of the times, and against 
 some common, killing sins. As for dii'ections to doubting, 
 troubled consciences, that is done already. And the strong 
 I shall not wiite directions for, because they are so much 
 taught of God already. And then the last part is intended 
 more especially for fiiirulies, as such, directing the several 
 relations in their duties. Some of these are already written. 
 "Whether I shall have life and leisiure for the rest, God only 
 knoweth : and therefore I shall pubUsh the several pai'ts by 
 themselves, as I wiTite them. And the rather because they 
 are intended for men of diflerent states, and because I 
 would not deter them by the bidk or price, fi'om reading 
 what is written for their benefit. The use that this part is 
 published for, is, 1. For masters and parents to read often 
 in their flimilies, if they have servants or childi-en that are 
 yet imconverted. 2. For all such imconverted persons to 
 read and consider of themselves. 3. For the richer sort, 
 that have any pity on such miserable souls, to give to the 
 unsanctified that need them (if they have not fitter at hand 
 to use and give). The Lord awake us to work Avhile it is 
 day, for the saving of our own and others' souls, in subser- 
 viency to the blessed God, the Maker, the Redeemer, and 
 the Sanctifier of souls. 
 
 RICHARD B^VXTER. 
 Dtcember 10, 1657.
 
 PREFACE. 4.5 
 
 TO ALL UNSANCTIFIED PERSONS THAT SHALL READ 
 THIS BOOK, ESPECIALLY ilY HEARERS IX THE 
 PARISH OF KIDDERMINSTER; 
 
 Mex ^vxd Brethrex, 
 
 The eternal God that made you for life everlasting, and 
 hatli redeemed you by liis only Son, when you had lost it 
 and yoiu"selves, being mindfiil of you in your sin and misery, 
 hath indited the gospel, and sealed it by his Spirit, and com- 
 manded his ministers to preach it to the world, that pardon 
 bemg fi-eely offered you, and heaven being set before you, 
 he might call you off from your fleshly pleasm'es, and from 
 following after this deceitful world, and acquaint you -w-ith 
 the life you were created and redeemed for, before you are 
 dead and past remedy. He sendeth you not prophets or 
 apostles, that receive their message by immediate revelation, 
 but j'et he calleth you by his ordiiiaiy ministers, who are com- 
 missioned by him to preach the same gospel which Chiist and 
 his apostles first delivered. Tlie Lord standeth over you, 
 and seeth how you forget him and your latter end, and how 
 light you make of everlasting things, as men that under- 
 stand not what they have to do or suffer. He seeth how 
 bold you are in sin, and how fearless of Ins threatenings, and 
 how careless of your souls, and how the works of infidels 
 are in your lives, while the belief of Chiisrians is in yom* 
 mouths. He seeth the dreadfld day at hand, when yom* 
 sorrows will begin, and you must lament all this with fruit- 
 less cries in torment and desperation ; and then the remem- 
 brance of yom- foUy will teai* your hearts, if true conversion 
 now prevent it not. In compassion of your sinful, miser- 
 able souls, the Lord, that better knows your case than you 
 can know it, hath made it our duty to speak to you in his 
 name (2 Cor. v. 19), and to tell you plainly of your sin and 
 miserv, and what vnU be vour end, and how sad a chano;e
 
 46 PREFACE. 
 
 you wtU shortly see, if yet you go on a little longer. Hav- 
 ing bought you at so dear a rate as the blood of his Son 
 Jesus Christ, and made you so free and general a promise of 
 pardon and grace, and everlasting glory, he conimandeth 
 us to tender all this to you, as the gift of God, and to en- 
 treat you to consider of the necessity and worth of what he 
 ofiereth. He seeth and pitieth you, while you are di'o^vned 
 in worldly cares and pleasures, and eagerly following cMd- 
 ish toys, and wasting that short and precious time for a 
 thing of nought, in which j'ou should make ready for au 
 everlastuig life ; and therefore he hath commanded us to 
 call after you, and to tell jou how you lose jour labom', 
 and are about to lose your souls, and to tell j'ou what 
 gi'eater and better things you might certainly have, if you 
 would hearken to his call, Isa. Iv. 1-3. We beUeve and 
 obey the voice of God ; and come to j'ou daily on his mes- 
 sage, who hath charged us to preach and be instant with 
 you in season and out of season, and to lift up our voice 
 Uke a trumpet, and shew you your transgressions and your 
 sins, Isa. Iviii. 1 ; 2 Tim. iv. 1,2. But woe and alas ! to 
 the grief of our souls, and your own undomg, you stop 
 your ears, you stilTen yoiu* necks, you harden your hearts, 
 and break our hearts, and send us back to God with groans, 
 to teU him that we have done his message, but can do no 
 good, nor scarcely get a sober hearing. Oh that our eyes 
 were as a fountain of tears, that we might lament our ignor- 
 ant, careless people, that have Christ before them, and par- 
 don, and life, and heaven before them, and have not hearts 
 to know and value them ! that might have Christ, and 
 grace, and glory, as well as others, if it were not for their 
 wilful negUgence and contempt ! Oh that the Lord would 
 fill our hearts with more compassion to these miserable souls, 
 that we might cast ourselves even at their feet, and follow 
 them to then* houses, and speak to them -with our bitter 
 tears. For long have we preached to many of them, as in 
 vain : we study plainness to make them understand, and 
 many of them will not understand us : Ave study serious, 
 piercing word§ to make them feel, but they will not feel.
 
 PREFACE. 47 
 
 If the greatest matters would work with them, we should 
 awake them. If the sweetest things would work, we should 
 entice them, and win their hearts. If the most di'eadful thmgs 
 would work, we should at least aflfright them fi'om their 
 \nckedness. If truth and sincerity would take with them, 
 we should soon convince them. If the God that made them, 
 and the Christ that bought them, might be heard, the case 
 would soon be altered with them. If Scriptui-e might be 
 heard, we should soon prevail. If reason, even the best 
 and strongest reason, might be heard, we should not doubt 
 but we should speedily convince them. If experience might 
 be heard, and even then- own experience, and the experi- 
 ence of all the world, the matter might be mended. Yea, 
 if the conscience within them might be heard, the case 
 would be better vnth them than it is. But if nothing can 
 be heard, what then shall we do for them ? If the di'ead- 
 ful God of heaven be slighted, who then shall be regarded V 
 If the inestimable love and blood of a Redeemer be made 
 light of, what then shall be valued ? If heaven have no 
 desirable glory with them, and everlasting joys be worth no- 
 thing ; if they can jest at heU, and dance about a bottom- 
 less pit, and play with the consuming fii'e, and that when 
 God and man do warn them of it ; what shall we do for 
 such souls as these ? 
 
 Once more, in the name of the God of heaven, I shall do 
 the message to you which he hath commanded us, and leave 
 it in these stauduig lines to convert you or condemn you ; 
 to change you, or rise up in judgment against }0u, and to 
 be a witness to your faces, that once you had a serious call 
 to turn. Hear, all you that are the drudges of the world, 
 and the servants of flesh and Satan ; that spend jour days 
 in looking after prosperity on earth, and di'O'ivn your con- 
 sciences in di-inking, and gluttony, and idleness, and foolish 
 sports, and know your sua, and yet will sin, as if you set 
 God at defiance, and bid him do liis worst, and spare not. 
 Hearken, all you that muid not God, and have no heart 
 to holy things, and feel no savoiu" m the word or worship 
 of the Lord, or in the thoughts or mention of eternal life 5
 
 48 PREFACE. 
 
 that are careless of your immortal souls, and never bestow- 
 ed one hour in inquiring what case they are in, whether 
 sanctified or unsanctified, and whether you are ready to ap- 
 pear before the Lord ! Hearken, all you that by sinning in 
 the light, have sinned yourselves into atheism and infidelity, 
 and do not believe the word of God. " He that hath an 
 ear to hear, let him hear" the gi'acious and yet dreadful 
 call of God ! His eye is all this while upon you, your sins 
 are registered, and you shall sm-ely hear of them again ; 
 God keepetli the book now, and he wiU write it upon your 
 consciences Avith his terrors ; and then you also shall keep it 
 yourselves. O sinners ! that you but knew what you are 
 doing ! and whom you are all this while ofiending ! The sun 
 itself is darkness before the glory of that Majesty which you 
 daily abuse and carelessly provoke. The sinning angels 
 were not able to stand before him, but were cast down to 
 be tormented with devils. And dare such silly worms as 
 you so carelessly ofiend, and set yourselves against your 
 Maker ? O that you did but a little know what a case that 
 wi'ctched sold is in, that hath engaged the living God against 
 hun ! The word of his mouth that made thee can mimake 
 thee ; a fi'OAvn of his face wiU cut thee off, and cast thee out 
 into utter darkness : how eager are the de\'ils to be doing 
 with thee that have tempted thee, and do but wait for the 
 word from God to take and use thee as their own ! And 
 then in a moment thou wilt be in hell. If God be against 
 thee, all things are against thee. Tliis world is but thy 
 prison for all that thou so lovest it : thou art but reserved 
 in it to the day of ■\ATath, Job xxi. 30. The Judge is 
 coming, thy soul is even going : yea, a little while and thy 
 friends shall say of thee, He is dead ; and thou shalt see 
 the things that thou dost now despise, and feel what now 
 thou wilt not beUeve. Death will biing such an argument 
 as thou canst not answer ; an argument that shall effectually 
 (jonfute thy cavUs against the word and ways of God, and 
 all thy self-conceited dotages : and then how soon will thy 
 mind be changed ! Then be an unbeliever if thou canst ! 
 Stand then to all thy former words which thou wast wont to
 
 PREFACE. 49 
 
 ntter against the Scriptures, or against a holy and heavenly 
 life ! ISIake good that cause then before the Lord, which 
 thou wast wont to plead against thy teachers, and against 
 the people that feared God. Then stand to thy old opi- 
 nions, and contemptuous thoughts of the diligence of the 
 saints. Make ready now thy strongest reasons, and stand 
 np then before the Judge, and plead like a man, for thy 
 fleshly, thy worldly, and ungodly life ; but loiow that thou 
 must have one to plead with thee, that will not be outfaced 
 by thee, nor so easily put off as we thy fellow-creatures. O 
 poor deceived, wretched soul ! there is nothing but a slender 
 veil of flesh betwixt thee and that amazing sight, which will 
 quickly silence thee and turn thy tune, and make thee of 
 another mind ! As soon as death has drawn this curtain, 
 thou shalt see that which will quickly leave thee speechless. 
 And how quickly will that day and hour come ! When thou 
 hast had but a few more merry hours, and but a few more 
 pleasant draughts and morsels, and a little more of the 
 honours and riches of the world, thy portion will be spent, 
 and thy pleasures ended, and all is then gone that thou set- 
 test thy heart upon ; of all that thou soldest thy Saiiour 
 and salvation for, thei'e is nothing left but the heav}' reckon- 
 ing. As a thief that sits merrily spending the money in an 
 ale-house which he hath stolen, when men are riding in post 
 haste to apprehend him ; so it is with you : while you are 
 droAVTied in cares or fleshly pleasures, and making merry 
 with your own shame, death is coming in post haste to seize 
 upon you, and carry' your souls to such a place and state, 
 as now you little know or think of. Suppose Avhen you are 
 bold and busy in your sin, that a messenger were but com- 
 ing post from London to apprehend you, and take away 
 your hfe ; though you saw him not, yet if you knew of his 
 coming it would mar your mirth, and you would be think- 
 ing of the haste he makes, and hearkening when he knock- 
 eth at your door. Oh that ye could but see what haste 
 death makes, though yet it hath not overtaken you ! No 
 post so swift ! No messenger more sure ! As sure as the 
 sun will be with you in the morning, though it hath many 
 
 D
 
 50 PREFACE. 
 
 thousand and liundi-ed thousand miles to go in the night, so 
 sure will death be quickly A\ith you ; and then where is 
 yoiu* sport and pleasiu'e ? Then vnR you jest and brave it 
 out ? Then will you jeer at them that warned you ? Then 
 is it better to be a belle\-ing saint, or a sensual worldling ? 
 And then whose shall all those things be that you have 
 gathered? Luke xii. 19-21. Do you not observe that 
 days and weeks are quickly gone, and nights and mornings 
 come apace, and speedily succeed each other? You sleep, 
 but " your damnation slumbereth not;" you linger, "but 
 your judgment this long time lingereth not," 2 Pet. ii. 3-5 ; 
 to which you are reserved for punishment, 2 Pet. ii. 8, 9., 
 *' Oh that you were wise to understand this, and that you 
 did consider your latter end ! " Deut. xxxii. 20. " He 
 that hath an ear to hear, let him hear " the call of God in 
 this day of his salvation. 
 
 O careless sinners, that you did but know the love that 
 you imthankfully neglect, and the preciousness of the blood 
 of Christ which you despise ! Oh that you did but know 
 the riches of the gospel ! Oh that you did but know a httle 
 the certainty, and the glory, and blessedness of that ever- 
 lasting life, which now you Mill not set your hearts upon, 
 nor be persuaded first and dihgently to seek ! Heb. xi. 6 ; 
 xii. 28 ; Matt. vi. 13. Did you but know the endless life 
 ^\■ith God which you now neglect, how quickly would you 
 cast away your sm ! how quickly would you change your 
 muid and life, your course and company, and tm-n the 
 streams of your affections, and lay out your care another 
 Avay ! how resolutely would you scorn to yield to such 
 temptations as now deceive you, and carry you away ! how 
 zealously would you bestir yom-selves for that most blessed 
 life ! how earnest would you be with God m prayer ! how 
 diligent in hearing, learning, and inquiring ! how serious in 
 meditatmg on the laws of God ! Psal. i. 2. how fearM of 
 sinning in thought, word, or deed! and how carefld to please 
 God and grow in hohness ! Oh what a changed people you 
 would be ! And why should not the certain word of God 
 be beUeved, and prevail witli you, which openeth to }"0u
 
 PREFACE. 51 
 
 these glorious and eternal tilings? Yea, let me toll you, 
 that even here upon earth, you httle know the diiference 
 between the hfe you refixse and the Hfe you choose. The 
 sanctified are conversing with God, when you scarce dare 
 think of him, and when you are conversing but -^vith eartli 
 and flesh ; their conversation is in heaven, when you are utter 
 strangers to it, and your belly is your god, and you are 
 minding earthly things, PhU. iii. 18-20. They are seek- 
 ing after the face of God, when you seek for nothing higher 
 than this world. They are busily laj-ing out for an endless 
 life, where they shall be equal vnth the angels, Luke xx. 36, 
 when you are taken up with a shadow, and a transitory thing 
 of nought. How low and base is your earthly, fleshly, sin- 
 ftil life, in comparison of the noble, spiritual life of true be- 
 lievers ! Many a time have I looked on such men with 
 grief and pity, to see them trudge about the world, and 
 spend theu- hves, care, and labom-, for nothing but a Httle 
 food and raiment, or a Uttle fading pelf, or fleshly pleasm-es, 
 or empty honours, as if they had no higher thing to mind. 
 ^\Tiat diiference is there between the lives of these men, and 
 of the beasts that perish, that spend their time in workuig, 
 and eating, and H\'ing, but that they may hve ? They taste 
 not of the mward heavenly pleasures which behevers taste 
 and live upon. I had rather have a Httle of their comfort, 
 which the forethoughts of their heavenly inheritance doth 
 afford them, though I had aU their scorn and sufferings with 
 it, than to have aU yom- pleasures and treacherous prosperi- 
 ties ; I would not have one of yom- secret gripes and pangs 
 of conscience, dark and dreadful thoughts of death and the 
 Hfe to come, for all that ever the world hath done for you, 
 or all that you should reasonably hope that it should do. If 
 I were in yom- imconverted, cai-nal state, and knew but what 
 I know, beHeved but what I now beHeve, methinks my life 
 woidd be a foretaste of hell. How oft should I be thuiking 
 of the ten-ors of the Lord, and of the dismal day that is 
 hasting on ! Sm-e death and heU would be still before 
 me. I should think of them by day, and dream of them by 
 night ; I should He do^Ti in fear, and ri^ein terror and Hve
 
 52 PREFACE. 
 
 in anguish, lest death should come before I was converted : 
 I should have small felicity in any thing that I possessed, and 
 little pleasure in any company, and little joy in any thing in 
 the world, as long as I knew mysell' to be under the curse and 
 wi-ath of God : I should still be afraid of hearing that voice, 
 " Thou fool, this night shall thy sold be required of thee," 
 Luke xii. 20. And that fearful sentence would be wi-itten 
 upon my conscience, " Verily there is no peace, saith my 
 God, to the wicked," Isa. xhoii. 22 ; hdi. 21. O poor sinners! 
 it is a more joj-ful life than this that you might live, if you 
 were but willing, but truly -niUing to hearken to Christ, and 
 to come home to God. You might then draw near to God ■ 
 with boldness, and call him your Father, and comfortably 
 trust him with your souls and bodies. If you look upon 
 promises, you may say. They are all mine ; if upon the 
 curse, you may say, From this I am delivered. When yon 
 read the law, you may see what you are saved fi'om : when 
 you read the gospel, you may see him that redeemed you, 
 and see the com'se of his love, and holy Hfe, and sufferings, 
 and trace him in his temptations, tears, and blood, in the 
 work of your salvation. You may see death conquered, 
 and heaven opened, and your resurrection and glorification 
 provided for, in the resurrection and glorification of your 
 Lord. If you look on the saints, you may say, They are 
 my brethren and companions. If on the unsanctified, you 
 may rejoice to think that you are saved fi-om that state. If 
 you look upon the heavens, the sun, and moon, and stars 
 innumerable, you may think and say, My Father's face is 
 infinitely more glorious ; it is higher matters that he hath 
 prepared for his saints. Yonder is but the outward coiul 
 of heaven. The blessedness that he hath promised me, is 
 so much higher, that flesh and blood cannot behold it. If 
 you think of the grave, you may remember that the glori- 
 fied Spirit, a living Head, and a loving Father, have all so 
 near relation to your dust, that it cannot be forgotten or 
 neglected ; but wUl more certainly rerive than the plants 
 and floM'ers in the spring ; because the soul is still alive, 
 that is the root of the body, and Christ is alive, that is the
 
 PREFACE. 53 
 
 root of both. Even death, which I:^ the king of fears, may 
 be remembered and entertamed with joy, as being the day 
 of }-our deHverance from the remnants of sin and sorrow, 
 and the day which you believed, and hoped, and waited for, 
 ■when you shall see the blessed things which you have heard 
 of, and shall find by present 30)^01 exiDenence, what It was 
 to choose the better part, and be a sincere believing saint. 
 ^Vhat say you, su's ? is not this a more delightful life, to be 
 assured of salvation, and ready to die, than to Hve as the 
 ungodly, that have their hearts " overcharged with sm-feit- 
 ing and drunkenness, and the cares of this life, and so that 
 day comes upon them unawares ? " Luke xxi. 34, 36. ]Might 
 you not hve a comfortable life, if once you were made the 
 heirs of heaven, and sm'e to be saved when you leave the 
 world? O look about you then, and think what you do, 
 and cast not away such hopes as these for very nothing. 
 The flesh and world can give you no such hopes or comlorts. 
 And besides aU the misery that you bring ujion yom-selves, 
 you are the troublers of others as long as you ai'e uncon- 
 verted. You trouble magistrates to rule you by their laws. 
 You trouble ministers, by resisting the Hght and guidance 
 which they offer you ; your sin and misery is the gi-eatest 
 gi'ief and trouble to them in the world. You trouble the 
 commonwealth, and draw the judgments of God upon us : 
 it is you that most distm-b the hoh' peace and order of the 
 churches, and hinder our union and reformation, and are 
 the shame and trouble of the chm'ches where }0U intrude, 
 and of all the places where you are. Ah, Lord ! how heavy 
 and sad a case is this, that even in England, where the gos- 
 pel doth abound above any other nation in the world ; 
 where teaching is so plain and common, and all the helps we 
 can desire are at hand ; when the sword hath been he^\Tng 
 us, and judgment hath run as a fu-e through the land ; when 
 deliverances have relieved us, and so many admirable mer- 
 cies have engaged us to God, and to the gospel, and to a 
 holy life ; that yet afler all this our cities, and tOAvns, and 
 counties, shall abound with multitudes of imsanctified men, 
 and swai-m Arith so much sensuahty, as eveiy where to our
 
 54 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 grief we see. One would have thouglit, that after all this 
 light, and all this experience, and all these judgments and 
 mercies of God, the people of this nation sh(!uld have joined 
 together, as one man, to turn to the Lord ; and should 
 have come to theii- godly teachers, and lamented all their 
 former sins, and desired them to join with them in public 
 humiliation to confess their sins openly, and beg pardon of 
 them fi-om the Lord, and should have craved instruction for 
 the time to come, and be glad to be ruled by the Spu-it 
 Arithin, and the mini'sters of Christ without, according to the 
 word of God. One would think, that after such reason and 
 scripture eridence as they hear, and after all these means 
 and mercies, there should not be an imgodly person left 
 among us, or a worldling, or a drunkard, or a hater of re- 
 formation, or an enemy to holiness, be foun4 in all our 
 towns or counties. If we be not all agreed about some 
 ceremonies or forms of government, one would think that, 
 before this, we should have been all agreed to live a holy 
 and heavenly life, in obedience to God, his word and minis- 
 ters, and in love and peace with one another. But, alas! 
 how far are oiu" people fi-om this coiu"se ! IMost of them, in 
 most places, do set their hearts oii earthly things, and seek 
 not first the Idngdom of God, and the i-ighteousness thereof, 
 but look at holiness as a needless thing : then- families are 
 praj'erless, or else a few heartless, lifeless words must serve 
 instead of hearty, fervent, daily prayer ; their children are 
 not taught the knowledge of Christ, and the covenant of 
 grace, nor brought iip m the nurture of the Lord, though 
 t!>ey falsely promised this in their baptism. They instruct 
 not their sem-ants in the matters of salvation ; but so their 
 work be done they care not. There are more oaths, and 
 curses, and ribald and railing speeches in their famihes, than 
 gracious words that tend to edification. How few are the 
 families that fear the Lord, and inquire after his word and 
 ministers, how they should live, and v/hat they should do ; 
 and are A;alling to be taught and ruled, and that heartily 
 look after everlasting life ! And those few that God hath 
 made so happ}', are commonly the by-word of their neigh-
 
 PREFACE. 55 
 
 bours ; when we see some live in di-unkenness, and some in 
 pride and worldliness, and most of them have little care of 
 their salvation, though the cause be gross, and past all con- 
 troversy, yet will they hardly be convinced of their misery, 
 and more hardly recovered and reformed ; but when we 
 have done all that we are able, to save them fi-om their 
 sins, we leave them, most of them, as we find them. And 
 if, according to the law of God, we cast them out of the 
 communion of the church, when they have obstinately re- 
 jected all our admonitions, they rage at us as if we were 
 their enemies, and their hearts are filled with maUce against 
 us, and they will sooner set themselves against the Lord, 
 and his laws, and chiu-ch, and ministers, than against their 
 deadly sins. This is the doleful case of England ; we have 
 magistrates that countenance the ways of godlhaess, and a 
 happy opportunity for unity and reformation is before us ; 
 and faithful ministers long to see the right ordering of the 
 chiu'ch, and of the ordinances of God ; but the power of sin 
 in our people doth fi'ustrate almost all. Nowhere almost 
 can a faithfial minister set up the miquestionable disciphne of 
 Christ, or put back the most scandalous, impenitent sinners 
 from the communion of the church, and participation of the 
 sacrament, but the most of the people rail at them, and re- 
 vile them ; as if these ignorant, careless souls were wiser 
 than their teachers, or than God himself ; and fitter to ride 
 the church than they. And thus in the day of our ^dsita- 
 tion, when God calls upon us to reform liis church, though 
 magistrates seem willing, and faithful ministers are wiUing, 
 yet are the midtltude of the people still unwilling ; and sin 
 hath so blinded them, and hardened their hearts, that even 
 in these days of light and grace, they are the obstinate ene- 
 mies of hght and gi'ace, and will not be brought by the calls 
 of God to see then' folly, and know what is for their good. 
 Oh that the people of England knew, " at least in this then- 
 day, the things that belong unto their peace, before they are 
 hid fi-om their eyes !" Lulie xix. 42. O fooUsh and miser- 
 able soids ! Gal. iii. 1 , who hath bewitched your minds into 
 Buch madness, and yoiir hearts into such deadness, that you
 
 56 PREFACE 
 
 should be such mortal enemies to yourselves, and go on so 
 obstinately towards damnation, that neither the word of God 
 nor the persuasions of men can change yom- minds, or hold 
 yom- hands, or stop you till j'ou arc past remedy ? Well, 
 sinner ! this life will not last always ; this patience wUl not 
 wait upon you still. Do not think that you shall abuse your 
 Maker and Redeemer, and serve his enemies, and debase 
 yom- souls, and trouble the world, and Avi-ong the church, 
 and reproach the godly, and gi-ieve yom- teachers, and hin- 
 der reformation, and all this upon fi-ee cost. You know not 
 yet what this must cost you, but you must shortly know, 
 when the righteous God shall take you in hand, who vnR 
 handle you in another manner than the sharpest magistrates 
 or the plainest dealing pastors did, unless you prevent the 
 everlastmg torments by a sound conversion, and a speedy 
 obe}ing the call of God. " He that hath an ear to heai", 
 let him hear," while mercy hath a voice to call. 
 
 One desperate objection (which I have touched in the 
 sequel, but with too much brevity) I find sticks close to the 
 hearts of many imgodly men. They think that God doth 
 not so much care what men think, or say, or do, as we per- 
 suade them ; and therefore they care so little themselves. 
 For the convincing of such atheistical men as these, I shall 
 propound the foUoAving questions : — 
 
 1. Dost thou think God careth whether thou be a 
 man or not ? If not, who made thee, and preserved thee ? 
 If he do, then sure he careth whether thou behave thyself 
 as a man. No man is so foolish as to make any instrument, 
 build a house, or a ship, and not care, when he hath done, 
 whether it be good for the use he made it. Do not, for shame, 
 then, impute such folly to the God of wisdom, as if he made 
 so noble a creature as man, and endowed him with such 
 noble faculties, and all for nothing, and careth not what be- 
 cometh of him when he hath done. ^Vhy should God give 
 thee a mind that can know him, and a heart that can love 
 him, when he careth not whether thou know him, and love 
 him, or not ? Do not you see, that, in the course of nature, 
 every thing is fitted to its use ? The beasts know not God,
 
 PREFACE. 57 
 
 nor are capable of loving him, because they were made for 
 no such use ; but thy capacity shews that thou wast made 
 for God, and for a life to come. 
 
 2. Dost thou think that God is everywhere present, and 
 infinite, and all-sufficient ? K not, thou dost not beUeve 
 that he is God ; and it is unreasonable to imagine, that 
 God hath made a world that is gi-eater, and more extensive 
 or comprehensive, than himself ! For none can communicate 
 more than he hath. But if thou ai-t forced to confess that 
 God is everpvhere, and as sufficient for every single man, 
 as if he had never another creatm-e to regard, thou must 
 needs confess then that he is not careless of the hearts and 
 ways of the sons of men ; for they are thmgs that are still 
 before his eyes. It is base and blasphemous thoughts of 
 God, as if he were hmited, absent, or insufficient, that makes 
 men thmk him so regardless of their hearts and waj's. 
 
 3. Dost thou thmk that God careth what becomes of thy 
 body ? whether thou be sick or well ? whether thou Hve or 
 die ? If not, then how camest thou by thy liie, and health, 
 and mercies ? If they came fi"om any other fountam, tell 
 us from whence. Is it not to God that thou prayest for 
 thy life and health ? Darest thou say to him, I will not 
 depend upon thee ? I wiU not be beholden to thee for the 
 life and mercies of another day ? If so, then thou art a 
 blind atheist. But if thou thinkest he cares for thy body, 
 canst thou think he cares not more for thy soul ? If he must 
 regard to furnish thee with mercies, he will surely have a 
 x'egard whether thou love and hve to him that gave them. 
 
 4. Dost thou beheve that God is the Governor of the 
 world, or not ? If not, then there can be no rightful go- 
 vernment. For as no justice of peace can have a power, 
 but from the sovereign ; so no sovereign can have power, 
 but from God ; nor be a lawful governor, but under him : 
 and then all the world would be turned into confiision. 
 But if thou must needs confess that God is the Governor of 
 the world, what an imwise, unrighteous governor wouldst 
 thou make him, if thou thinkest that he regardeth not the
 
 58 PREFACE. 
 
 hearts and ways of those whom he doth govern ! This still 
 is but to deny him to be God 
 
 5. If God do not care so much what is in our hearts, or 
 what we do, why then should he make a law for our hearts, 
 and words, and ways? Would he command us that 
 which he doth not care for ? Would he so strictly forbid 
 sin, if he were indifferent whether we sin or not ? Would 
 he promise eternal life to the holy and obedient, if he cared 
 not whether we be holy and obedient or no? Would 
 he threaten heU to aU that are ungodly, if he cared not 
 whether we are godly or not ? Dai'est thou say, that the 
 almighty, holy God is fain to rule the world by a he, and 
 to deceive men into obedience? Yea, the very law of 
 nature itself doth contain not only precepts of om* duty, 
 but the hopes and fears of the life to come, without which 
 the world could not be governed ; and certainly they are 
 no deceits, by which an infinite wisdom, and power, and good- 
 ness, doth govern the world. 
 
 6. If God did not much regard our heai'ts and lives, why 
 doth he make all the world to be our servants ? Doth he 
 give us the sun, and moon, and stars, the earth, and aU 
 creatm'es to attend us, and serve us with their hves and 
 virtues, and yet doth he not care for our hearts or service ? 
 This is as foolish as to say, that he hath made all the world 
 in vain, and careth not for it, now he hath made it. 
 
 7. If he cared not for the frame of our hearts and lives, 
 he woidd not have sent his Son to redeem us, and to cleanse 
 us fi-om iniquity, and sanctif}' us a peculiar people to him- 
 self. Tit. ii. 14. Sm-ely the price that was paid for sinners, 
 and the wonderful design of God in our redemption, doth 
 shew that he makes not hght of sm, and that he is wonder- 
 fully in love ■with holiness. 
 
 8. if God did not regard our hearts and lives, he would 
 not have made it the office of his ministers to call us daily 
 to repentance and a holy life ; nor commanded them to make 
 such a stir with sinners to win them unto God : he would 
 not have appointed all his ordinances, public and private,
 
 PREFACE. 59 
 
 also to this end. Dotla God command all tMs ado for a 
 thing he regards not ? 
 
 9. Nor would he ptmish the world with hell hereafter, 
 or so many dreadflil judgments here, as thousands feel, if he 
 cared not what they think or do. Methinks, men that are 
 so often groaning imder his rod, should feel that he looks 
 after their hearts and ways. 
 
 10. And how can the Holy Ghost be our Sanctifier, if 
 God be so indiiFerent, whether we be clean or unclean ? 
 Dare you tliink that the Holy Ghost doth take upon him a 
 needless work ? 
 
 11. Methinks you might perceive, even in the malice of 
 the tempter, that God is holy, and hateth iniquity ; and his 
 word is true, that telleth us of the eternal punishment of 
 sin. The Scriptm-e teUs us of the angels' fall, and that 
 many of them are become de\ils by their sin, and are mali- 
 cious enemies of man's salvation. And do you not easily 
 perceive it to be true? How came they else to be such 
 importunate tempters of men, which we feel, alas ! by too 
 much experience? Or if this evidence be not palpable 
 enough to convince the infidel ; how come they to make so 
 many bargains with conjurers and witches, to draw them 
 fi'om God and salvation, as they have done? How come 
 they to appear in terrible shapes to so many as they have 
 done, and still upon designs that declare their oavu dejected, 
 base condition, and their enmity to God and man, and their 
 eager desire to engage men in a way of sin ? If any infidel 
 will not believe that really there have been witches and ap- 
 paritions, and consequently that there are devils, who are 
 miserable, malicious spirits, who by sin are cast out of the 
 llivoiu' of God, and would draw men into their miserable 
 case ; let them come and reason the case with me, and I 
 shall quickly tell them of so many sure and undeniable in- 
 stances, and give them so much proof of the truth of it, as 
 shall leave them nothing to say against it, unless they will 
 still say, We will not believe : yea, so much, as that I will 
 not be beholden to the vilest atheist or infidel to beheve it,
 
 60 PREFACE. 
 
 if he will not quite renounce bis reason, but give it leave to 
 see the light. 
 
 12. Lastly, If yet you think that God (the Sovereign 
 Ruler of the world, that is everywhere present, and pre- 
 serveth all) doth care so little what men are, or what they 
 do, whether they are holy or unholy, obedient or disobe- 
 dient to his laws ; then uiethinks that you yourselves, and 
 all the rest of your feUow-creatures, should Uttle care. 
 
 Two questions therefore I must propound to you r 
 
 1. Do not you care what men say of you, or do to you ? 
 Are you contented that men slander you, and abuse you, or 
 set your houses or towns on fire, or destroy your cattle, or 
 wives or cliildren, and imprison, wound, or kill yourselves ? 
 If you will make a gi'eat matter what men say or do against 
 you, can you be so mad (for it is no better) as to think that 
 the ormiipotent, holy God, should little regard Avhat is said 
 or done against himself, and against his servants, and that 
 by such silly worms as men, that are his workmanship ? Did 
 not selfishness make you blind and partial, you would know 
 that one sin against God deserves more punishment than 
 ten thousand thousand times as much against such siUy 
 things as you. Do you make no matter of difference 
 between a bad servant and a good? an obedient and dis- 
 obedient child ? a son that Avill lay down lus life for you, 
 and a son that longs for your death, that he may have your 
 land? between a faithful friend and a deadly enemy? If 
 you do not, you are not men, but something else in human 
 shape. If you do, then you are somewhat worse than men, 
 if yet you would have the blessed God to make no great 
 difference between those that love hun above all the world, 
 and those that regard him not ; between the holy and un- 
 holy sold. 
 
 And, 2. I would ask you whether you would have the 
 rulers of the world to take care what men say or do, or 
 would you not ? If not, then you would have all the world 
 turned loose, and you would have every man that is poorer 
 than you, have leave to rob you ; and every man that hateth
 
 PREFACE. 61 
 
 you, have leave to beat or kill you ; and every man that 
 liketh your house, or lands, or goods, or cattle, to have leave 
 to take them fi-om }-ou ; and every man defile your wives or 
 daughters, that hath a mind to it ? And so we should see 
 whither it is that infidelity leads men. But il" you like not 
 this, then you are most unreasonable, if you would have 
 magistrates to be regardful of men's actions, and not God ; 
 if magistriites must hang men for wronging you, and the 
 eternal j\Iajesty must not punish them for wronging liim, and 
 breaking his laws, which is infinitely a greater matter. As 
 if you would have a constable punish men, and the king or 
 judge to have no regard of it ; for kings are under God, as 
 constables are under kings, and a thousandfold lower. 
 
 The truth is, -wicked men are fallen so far from God to 
 themselves, that they are as gods to themselves in theii' own 
 esteem, and besides themselves they know no God ; and 
 therefore any -vxTong that is done against them, or any good 
 that is done for them, they would have regarded ; but the 
 wrong and disobedience that is against God, they would have 
 nothing made of it. And they have such narrow, blasphe- 
 mous thoughts of God, as if he were a finite creature like 
 themselves, that can be but in one place at once, that makes 
 them so blaspheme his providence, and think he minds no 
 good or e\il, and will not regard the godly, or punish the 
 ungodly, but were like the idols of the heathen, that have 
 eyes and see not, ears and hear not, and hands ^vithout an 
 executive power. But when the memorial book of God is 
 opened, which is written for them tliat fear the Lord, and 
 think upon his name ; and when tlie Lord shall say of them, 
 " These are mine," as he is making up his jewels, and 
 spareth them as a man spareth his son that serveth him ; 
 then shall these infidels return to their wits, and the righte- 
 ous shall return fi-om their fears and sufierings, and shall 
 decern between the righteous and the wicked, between those 
 that serve God and those that serve him not, Mai. iii. 16-18. 
 
 Another objection I find most common in tlie mouths of 
 the ungodly, especially of late years ; they say, "We can do 
 nothing without God ; we cannot have grace if God Avill not
 
 62 PEEFACE. 
 
 give it us ; and if he will, we sliall quickly turn : if he have 
 not predestinated us, and will not turn us, how can we turn 
 ourselves or be saved? It is not in him that wills, or m 
 him that runs. And thus they think they are excused. 
 
 I have answered this formerly, and in this book ; but 
 let me now say this much. 1. Though you cannot cure 
 yom-selves, you can hmt and poison yourselves : it is God 
 that must sanctify your hearts ; but who corrupted them ? 
 Win you Avihidly take poison, because you cannot cure 
 yourselves ? Methmks you should the more forbear it : you 
 should the more take heed of sinning, if you cannot mend 
 what sin doth mar. 2. Though you cannot be converted 
 without the special grace of God, yet you must know, that 
 God giveth his grace in the use of his holy means which he 
 hath appointed to that end ; and common grace may enable 
 you to forbear yoiu" gross sinning, as to the outward act, and 
 to use those means. Can you truly say tliat you do as much 
 as you are able to do ? Are you not able to go by an ale- 
 house door, or to shut your mouths and keep out the drink? 
 or to forbear the «om]iany that hardeueth j'ou to sin ? Are 
 you not able to go hear the Avord, and think of what you 
 heard when you come home? and to consider with yoiu*- 
 selves of yom* own condition, and of everlasting things? Are 
 you not able to read good books from day to day, at least 
 on the Lord's day, and to converse with those that fear the 
 Lord ? You cannot say that you have done what you are 
 able. 3. And therefore you must know that you can forfeit 
 the grace and help of God by your wilful smning or negU- 
 gence, though you cannot, without grace, turn to God. If 
 you vnR not do what j'ou can, it is just with God to denj- 
 you that grace by which you might do more. 4. And for 
 God's decrees, you must know that they separate not the 
 end and means, but tie them together. God never decreed 
 to save any but the sanctitied, nor to damn any but the 
 unsanctified. God doth as truly decree from everlasting 
 whether your land this year shall be barren or fruitful, and 
 just how long you shall live in the world, as he hath decreed 
 whether you shall be saved or not. And yet you would thmk
 
 PREFACE. 63 
 
 that man but a fool that would forbeai* ploughmg and sow- 
 ing, and say, If God have decreed that my ground shall 
 bear corn, it ■will bear whether I plough and sow or not. 
 If God have decreed that I shall live, I shall live whether I 
 eat or not ; but if he have not, it is not eating wiH keep 
 me alive. Do you know how to answer such a man, or do 
 you not ? If you do, then you know how to answer your- 
 selves ; for the case is alike : God's decree is as peremptory 
 about your bodies as j'oiu' souls. If you do not, then try 
 first these conclusions upon yom' bodies, before you venture 
 to try them on yom' souls ; see fii'st whether God iviU keep 
 you ahve wdthout food or raiment, and whether he wiU give 
 you com without tUlage and labour, and whether he yvill 
 bring you to your joxurney's end without your travel or car- 
 riage ; and if you speed well in this, then try whether he 
 will biing you to heaven without youi' dihgent use of means, 
 and sit down and say, We cannot sanctify om'selves. 
 
 And for the point of fi-ee-will, which yon hai'p so long 
 upon, di\ines are not so much disagi'eed about it as you 
 imaguie. Augustine as well as Pelagius, Cah-in as well as 
 Ai'uiinius, the Dominicans as well as the Jesuits, all do 
 generally maintain, that man hath fi-ee-wiU. The orthodox 
 say, that free-\vill is corrupted and disposed to evil. Epi- 
 phanius condemned Origen for sajing, that man had lost 
 the image of God, and makes it a point of heresy. And 
 yet one may truly say, That man hath lost God's image ; 
 and another may truly say, That he hath not lost it. For 
 there is a twofold unage of God in man : the one is natm-al, 
 and that is our reason and free-will, and this is not lost ; 
 the other is quahtative and ethical, and this is om* holiness, 
 and this Ls lost, and by gi-ace restored. No man of brains 
 denieth, that a man hath a wiU that is naturally free ; it is 
 fi-ee from violence, and it is a self-determining ]-)i-inciple ; but 
 it is not free from e\il dispositions. It is habitually averse 
 to God and holiness, and inclhied to earthly, fleslily things ; 
 it is enslaved by a shiful bias. Tliis, no man, methinks, 
 that is a Christian, should deny ; and of the aged, I see 
 not how an infidel can deny it. Alas, we easily confers to
 
 64 PREFACE. 
 
 you, that yoii have not this spiritual, moral free-will, which 
 is but your right inclination, and your habitual -\villingness 
 itself. If you had a will that were freed from wicked in- 
 cHnations, I had no need to write such books as these to 
 persuade you to be •\\'illing in a case which your own salva- 
 tion Ueth on. To the gi'ief of our souls, we perceive, after 
 all our preachings and persuasions, that the imgodly have 
 not tliis spiritual free-will. But this is nothing but your 
 willingness itself, and incUnation to be willing ; and there- 
 fore the want of it is so far from excusing you, that the 
 more you want it (that is, the more you are -wilful in sin) 
 the worse you are, and the sorer will be yovu* pimishment. 
 And our preaching and persuasions, and your hearing and 
 considering, are the appointed means to get this moral 
 power of freedom, that is, to make jou truly willing. 
 
 Well, sirs, I have but three requests to you, and I have done : 
 First, That you •will seriously read over this small treatise 
 (and if you have such that need it in your flimilies, that you 
 read it over and over to them : and if those that fear God 
 would go now and then to their ignorant neighbours, and 
 read this or some other book to them on this subject, they 
 might be a means of winning of soiils.) If we cannot en- 
 treat so small a labour of men for their own salvation, as to 
 read such short mstructions as these, they set little by them- 
 selves, and will most justly perish. Secondly, ^Vhen you 
 have read over this book, I would entreat you to go alone, 
 and ponder a little what you have read, and betliink you, 
 as in the sight of God, whether it be not true, and do not 
 nearly touch your souls, and whether it be not time for you 
 to look aljout you ; and I also entreat that you will fall upon 
 your knees and beseech the Lord tliat he will open your 
 eyes to understand the truth, and turn your hearts to the 
 love of God, and beg of him all that saving grace, that you 
 have so long neglected, and follow it on from day to day, 
 till your hearts be changed ; and withal, that you will go 
 to your pastors (that are set over you, to take care of the 
 health and safety of your souls, as physicians do for the health 
 of your bodies), and desfrethem to direct you what course to
 
 rPvKFACE. C5 
 
 take, and acquaint tliem witli your spiritual estate, that you'may 
 liave the benefit of then' advice and ministerial help. Or if 
 you have not a faithM pastor at home, make use of some 
 other in so great a need. Thu-dly, l^Tien by reading, con- 
 sideration, prayer, and ministerial advice, you are once -ac- 
 quainted with your sin and misery, Amh your duty and re- 
 medy', delay not, but presently forsake your sinM company 
 and courses, and tiu'n unto God, and obey his call, and as 
 you love your souls, take heed that you go not on against 
 so loud a call of God, and against your own knowledge and 
 conscience, lest it go worse with you m the day of judg- 
 ment than with Sodom and Gomorrah. Inquii-e of God, as 
 a man that is wiUing to know the truth, and not be a wil- 
 fiil cheater of his soul. Search the holy Scriptm-e daily, 
 and see whether these thmgs be so or not ; try impartially 
 whether it be safer to trust heaven or earth ; and whether 
 it be better to follow God or man, the Spii-it or the flesh ; 
 and better to live in holiness or sin ; and whether an un- 
 sanctified estate be safe for you to abide in one day longer ; 
 and when you have found out which is best, resolve accord- 
 ingly, and make your choice without any more ado. If you 
 win be true to yom' own souls, and do not love everlasting 
 torments, I beseech you, as from the Lord, that you will 
 but take this reasonable adrice. O what happy towns and 
 countries, and what a happy nation might we have, if we 
 could but persuade om- neighbours to agree to such a ne- 
 cessary motion! A^Hiat joj-ful men would all faithful muiis- 
 ters be, if they could but see their peojjle truly heavenly 
 and holy ! This would be the unity, the peace, the safety, 
 the glory of our chiu-ches, the happiness of our neighbours, 
 and the comfort of our souls. Then how comfortable should 
 we preach absolution and peace to you, and dehver the 
 sacraments, which are the seals of peace, to you. And with 
 what love and joy might we live among you ; at yom* death- 
 bed, how boldly might we comfort and encourage yom' de- 
 parting souls ; and at your burial, how comfortably might 
 we leave you in the grave, in expectation to meet your 
 souls in heaven, and to see your bodies raised to that glory. 
 
 E
 
 66 PREFACE. 
 
 Btit if still the most of you mU go on iii a careless, ig- 
 norant, fleshly, worldly, or unholy life ; and all our desires 
 and labours cannot so far prevail as to keep you from the 
 wilful damning of j'ourselves ; we must then imitate our 
 Lord, wlio dellghteth hmiself in those few that are his 
 jewels, and the little flock that shall receive the kingdom, 
 when the most shall reap the misery which they sowed. In 
 nature excellent things aj'e few. The world hath not many 
 suns or moons ; it is but a Uttle of the earth that is gold or 
 silver ; princes and nobles are but a small part of the sons 
 of men. And it is no gi'eat number that are learned, judi- 
 cious, or Avise, here in this world. And therefore if the gate 
 being strait, and the way nari'ow, there be but few that find 
 salvation, yet God avUI have his glory and pleasure in those 
 few. And when Christ " shall come with his mighty angels 
 in flaming fire, taking vengeance on them that know not 
 God, and obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, his 
 coming Avill be glorified in his saints, and admired in all true 
 believers," 2 Thess. i. 7-10. 
 
 And for the rest, as God the Father vouchsafed to create 
 them, and God the Son disdained not to bear the penalty 
 of their sins upon the cross ; and did not judge such suffer- 
 ings vain, though he knew that by refusing the sanctifica- 
 tion of the Holy Ghost, they would finally destroy them- 
 selves ; so we that are his ministers, though these be not 
 gathered ; judg&v^iot our labour whoUy lost. See Isa. 
 xhx. 5. 
 
 Reader, I have done ^vith thee (when thou hast perused 
 this book) ; but sin hath not yet done -n-ith thee (even those 
 that thou though test had been forgotten long ago), and 
 Satan hath not yet done with thee (though now he be out 
 of sight), and God hath not yet done with thee, because 
 thou Avilt not be persuaded to have done with deadly, reign- 
 ing sin. I have written thee this persuasive, as one that is 
 going into another world, where the things are seen that I 
 here speak of, and as one that knoweth thou must shortly 
 be there thyself As ever thou wouldst meet me with com- 
 fort before the Lord that made us ; as ever thou wilt
 
 PREFACE. 67 
 
 escape tlie everlasting plagues prepared for the final ne- 
 glecters of salvation, and for all that are not sanctified 
 by the Holy Ghost, and love not the communion of the 
 saints, as members of the holy catholic church ; and as ever 
 thou hopest to see the face of Chri!;t the Judge, and of the 
 majesty of the Father, with peace and comfort, to be re- 
 ceived into glory, when thou art turned naked out of tliis 
 world ; I beseech thee, I charge thee, to hear and obey the 
 call of God, and resolvedly to turn, that thou mayst live. 
 But if thou -vvilt not, even when thou hast no true reason for 
 it, but because thou ^\ilt not ; I summon thee, answer for 
 it before the Lord, and requu-e thee there to bear me wit- 
 ness I gave thee warning, and that thou wert not condemned 
 for want of a call to turn and live, but because thou wouldst 
 not beHeve it, and obey it ; which also must be the testi- 
 mony of thy seiious monitor. 
 
 RICIIAED BAXTER.
 
 A 
 
 CALL TO THE UXCOXVEllTED 
 
 TO TURN AND LIVE. 
 
 " Say unto them, as I livo, saith the Lord Goil, I have no pleasure in 
 'lie death of the wicked : but that the wicked turn from his way and live: 
 turn ye, turn ye from your evil ways ; for why will ye die, O house of 
 Israel?" — Ezekiel sxxiii. 11. 
 
 It hath been the astonLsliiiig wonder of many a man, as well 
 •IS me, to read in the holy Sci-ipture, how few will be saved, 
 nd that the greatest part even of those that are called, will 
 )e everlastingly shut out of the kingdom of heaven, and 
 tormented with the de^dls in eternal fire. Infidels believe 
 not this when they read it, and therefore must hereafter feel 
 it. Those that do believe it, are forced to cry out with Paul, 
 " Oh the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and know- 
 ledge of God ! How unsearchable are his judgments, and 
 liis ways past finding out !" Eom. xi. 13. But nattrre itself 
 doth teach us all, to lay the blame of e-vil works upon the 
 doers ; and therefore when we sec any heinous thing done, a 
 principle of justice doth provoke us to inquire after him that 
 <lid it, that the evil of the work may reti;rn the e-\-il of shame 
 ripon the author. K we saw a man killed and cut in pieces 
 by the way, we should presently ask. Oh I who did this cruel 
 deed ? If the town were wilfully set on fire, you would ask, 
 ViTiat -wicked -^\Tetch did tliis? So when we read that the most 
 ■'.\iil be fire-brands of hell for ever, we must needs think ■\rith 
 ourselves, how comes this to pass ? And whom doth it belong
 
 70 A CAI>L TO THE UNCONVERTED. 
 
 to ? wlio is it that is so cruel as to be the cause of such a 
 thing as this ? And we can meet with few that -will ovm the 
 guilt. It is indeed confessed by all, that Satan is the cause, 
 but that doth not resolve the doubt, because he is not the 
 principal cause. He doth not force men to sin, but tempt 
 them to it, and leaves it to theu- own wills, whether they will 
 do it or not. He doth not carry men to an ale-house, and 
 force open theu' mouths, and pour in the drink ; nor doth 
 he hold them that they cannot go to God's service, nor 
 doth he force their hearts from holy thoughts. It lieth, 
 therefore, between God himself, and the sinner : one of them 
 must needs be the principal cause of all this misery, which- 
 ever it is ; for there is no other to cast it upon. And 
 God disclaimeth it ; he will not take it upon him. And the 
 wicked disclaim it usually, and they will not take it upon 
 them ; and this is the controversy that is here managed in 
 the text. 
 
 The Lord com])laineth of the people, and the people think 
 it belongeth to God : the same controversy is handled in 
 chap, xviii. where, ver. 25, they plainly say, " that the way 
 of the Lord is not equal." And God saith, " It is their 
 ways that are not equal." So here they say, ver. 19, "If our 
 transgressions and our sins be upon us, and we pine away 
 in them, how shall we then live ? " As if they should say, If 
 we must die and be miserable, how can we help it ? as if it 
 belonged not to them, but God. But God, in my text, 
 doth clear himself of it, and tilleth them how they may help 
 it if they -svill, and persuadeth them to use the means : and 
 if they ^vill not be persuaded, he lets them know that it be- 
 longeth to themselves ; and if this will not satisfy them, he 
 will not therefore forbear to punish them. It is he that will be 
 then- Judge, and he will judge them according to their ways : 
 they are no judges of him, or of themselves, as wanting 
 authority, wisdom, and impartiality ; nor is it theii' ca\illing 
 and (piarrelling with God, that shall serve their turn, or save 
 them from the execution of justice which they mm-mur at. 
 
 'llie words of this verse contain, 1. God's purgation or 
 clearinjj of himself ii-om the blame of their destruction. This
 
 A CALL TO THE L^NCONVEETED. 7 1 
 
 he (loth, not by tlisowning his law, that the " wicked shall 
 die ;" nor by disowning his judgments and execution accord- 
 ing to that law, or by giving them any hope that the law shall 
 not be executed ; but by professing that it is not their death 
 that he takes pleasm'c in, but their returning rather, that 
 they may hve. And this he confirmeth to them by his oath. 
 2. An express exhortation to the wicked to retm-n ; where- 
 in God doth not only command, but persuade and conde- 
 scend also to reason the case with them, AVhy will they die ? 
 The direct end of this exhortation is, that they may turn and 
 live. The secondary, or reserved ends, upon supposition 
 that this is not attained, are these two : First, To conraice 
 them by the means which he used, that it belongeth not to 
 God if they be miserable. SecontUy, To convmce them, 
 from their manifest wilfidness, in rejecting all his commands 
 and persuasions, that it belongeth to themselves, and they 
 die even because they will die. 
 
 The substance of the text doth he in these observations 
 following. 
 
 Doct. I. It is the unchangeable law of God, that wicked 
 men must turn or die. 
 
 Doct. II. It is the promise of God, that the wicked shall 
 live, if they will but turn. 
 
 Doct. III. God takes pleasure in men's conversion and 
 salvation, but not in their death or damnation ; he had 
 rather they would return and Uve, than go on and die. 
 
 Doct. IV. This is a most certain truth, which because 
 God would not have men to question, he hath confimied it 
 to them solemnly by his oath. 
 
 Doct. V. The Lord doth redouble his commands and per- 
 suasions to the wicked to turn. 
 
 Doct. VI. The Lord condescendeth to reason the case 
 with them, and asketh the wicked, why they will die ? 
 
 Doct. VII. If after all this, the wicked will not return, 
 it belongeth not to God that they perish, but to themselves : 
 their own wilfulness is the cause of theii' damnation ; they 
 therefore die because they will die. 
 
 Having laid the text open before your eyes m these plain
 
 72 A CAI.L TO THE rTN'COX VERTED. 
 
 propositions, I shall next speak somewhat of each of them 
 in order, though very briefly. 
 
 Doct. I. It is the michangeable. law of God, that wicked 
 mon must tm'n or die. 
 
 If you -nail believe God, believe this. There is but one 
 of these two Avays for every wicked man, either conversion 
 or damnation. I know the wicked will hardly be persuad- 
 ed, either of the truth or equity of this. No wonder if 
 the guilty quarrel with the law. Few men are apt to 
 beheve that which they would not have to be true, and 
 fewer would have that to be ti'ue, which they apprehend 
 to be against them. But it is not quaiTellLng with the 
 law, or Avith the judge, that will save the malefactor : be- 
 lieving and regarduig the law might have prevented his 
 death ; but denying and accusing it, will but hasten it. If 
 it were not so, a liundi'ed would bring their reason against 
 the law, for one that would bring his reason to the law ; 
 and men wovJd rather choose to give their reasons why they 
 should not be punished, than to hear the commands and 
 reasons of their governors which requh-e them to obey. The 
 law was not made for you to judge, but that you might be 
 ruled and judged by it. But if there be any so bHnd as 
 to venture to question either the truth or justice of the law 
 of God, I shall briefly give you that ctddence of both, which, 
 methinks, would satisfy a reasonable man. And first, if 
 you doubt whether this be the word of God or not, besides 
 a hundred other texts, you may be satisfied by these few : 
 " Verily, I say unto you. Except ye be converted, and be- 
 come as little childi-en, ye cannot enter into the kmgdom of 
 heaven," Matt, xviii. 3. " Verily, verily, I say unto thee. 
 Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of 
 God," John iii. 3. " If any man be in Christ he is a new 
 creature : old things are passed away, behold all things are 
 become new," 2 Cor. v. 17. " Ye have put off the old 
 man with his deeds, and have put on the new man, which 
 is renewed in knowledge, after the image of him that 
 created him," Col. iii. 9, 10. " Without hohness no 
 man shall see God," Ileb. xii. 14. "So then they that
 
 A CALL TO THE L':NXO^~\"ERTED. Jo 
 
 are In the flesh cannot please God. Now if any man have 
 not the Spu-it of Christ, he is none of his," Rom. -iiii. 8, 9. 
 " For in Christ Jesus neither ch-cumclslon avaHeth any thing, 
 nor imcircumclsion, but a new creature," GaL \i. 15. " Ac- 
 corduig imto his abundant gTace, he hath begotten us again 
 to a lively hope," 1 Pet. i. 3. " Behig bom again, not of 
 con-uptlble seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, 
 which Hveth and abideth for ever," ver. 23. " Wherefore 
 laj-ing aside all malice, and all guile, and hj-pocrisles, and 
 envjings, and e'vil-speakings, as new-born babes desire the 
 sincere mUk of the word, that ye may gTow thereby," 1 Pet. 
 ii. 1, 2. " The wicked shall be tm-ned mto hell, and all 
 the nations that forget God," Psal. Lx. 17. " And the 
 Lord loveth the righteous ; but the wicked his soul hateth," 
 Psal. xi. 4. As I need not stay to open these texts wlilch 
 are so plain, so I think I need not add any more of that 
 multitude which speak the like. If thou be a man that dost 
 beheve the word of God, here Is already enough to satisfy 
 thee that the wicked must be converted or condemned. 
 You are already brought so far, that you must either confess 
 that this is true, or say plainly, you will not believe the word 
 of God. And if once you be come to that last pass, there 
 is but small hopes of you : look to yoiurselves as well as you 
 can ; for it is Uke you will not be long out of hell. You 
 would be ready to fly in the face of him that should give 
 } ou the lie ; and yet dare you give the he to God ? But if 
 you tell God plamly you wll not beheve hun, blame hun 
 liot if he never warn you more, or if he forsake you, and 
 give you up as hopeless : for to what purpose should he 
 warn you, if you would not beheve hun. Should he send 
 an angel from heaven to you, it seems you would not be- 
 lieve, for an angel can speak but the word of God ; and 
 if an angel should biing you any other gospel, you ai'e not 
 to receive it, but to hold him accursed. Gal. i. 8. And 
 surely there is no angel to be believed before the Son of 
 God, who came from the Father to bruig us this doctrme. 
 If he be not to be beUeved, then all the angels ui heaven 
 are not to be beheved. And If you stand on these terms
 
 74 A CALL TO TirE UA' CONVERTED. 
 
 ■with Gofi, I shall leave yoii till lie deal -until you in a more 
 con\incing way. God hath a voice that Avill make you 
 hear ! Though he entreat you to hear the voice of his gos- 
 pel, he ■n'ill make you hear the voice of his condemning 
 sentence, -n-ithout entreaty. "We cannot make you believe 
 a^-ainst your wills ; but God Avill make you feel against 
 your wills. But let us hear what reason you have, why you 
 will not believe this word of God, which tells us, that the 
 ■wicked must be converted or condemned. I know your 
 reason ; it is because that you judge it unlikely that God 
 should be so unmercifi.il ; you think it cruelty to damn- 
 men everlastingly for so small a thing as a sinful life. And 
 this leads us up to the second thing, which is to justifj' the 
 equity of God in his laws and judgment. 
 
 And fii-st, I think j-ou -w-ill not deny but that it is most 
 suitable to an immortal soul, to be rided by laws that pro- 
 mise an immortal reward, and threaten an endless punish- 
 ment. Otherwise the law should not be suited to the na- 
 ture of the subject, who will not be fiilly ruled by any 
 lower means than the hopes or fears of everlasting things : 
 as it is in case of temporal punishment. If a law were now 
 made, that the most heinous crimes should be punished 
 ■\vith a hundi-ed years' capti\ity, this might be of some effi- 
 cacy, as being equal to our lives. But if there had been 
 no other penalties before the flood, when men lived eight 
 or nine hundi'ed years, it would not hare been sufficient, 
 because men would know that they might have so many 
 huncb'ed years' unpunity afterward. So it is in our present case. 
 
 2. I suppose you will confess, that the promise of an end- 
 less and inconceivable glory, is not unsuitable to the wis- 
 dom of God, or the case of man. And why then should 
 you not think so of the threatening of an endless and un- 
 speakable misery? 
 
 3. "WHien you find it in the word of God, that so it is, 
 and so it will be, do you think yourselves fit to contradict 
 this word? Will you call your IMaker to the bar, and ex- 
 amine his word upon the accusation of falsehood ? WUl 
 you sit upon him, and judge him by the law of your conceits ?
 
 A CALL TO THE U>'COX\"ERTED. 7o 
 
 Are you -wiser, and better, and more righteous tlian he? ]\Iust 
 the God of heaven come to school to you to learn -wisdom ? 
 ]\Iust Infinite Wisdom learn of folly ; and Infinite Goodness 
 be coiTected by a s-^\nnish sinner, that cannot keep himself 
 an hour clean ? Must the Almighty stand at the bar of a 
 worm ? Oh honid arrogancy of senseless dust ! Shall 
 eveiy mole, or clod, or dunghill, accuse the sun of darkness, 
 and undertake to illuminate the -world? Where were you 
 ■when the Almighty made the la-ws, that he did not call you 
 to his counsel? Surely he made them before you were born, 
 without desiring your ad-vice, and you came into the world 
 too late for to reverse them. K you could have done so 
 gi'eat a work, you should have stepped out of your nothing- 
 ness, and have contradicted Christ when he was on earth, 
 or Moses before him, or have saved Adam and his sinfiJ 
 progeny from the threatening death, that so there might 
 have been no need of Christ. And what if God -withdraw 
 liis patience and sustentation, and let you di-op into hell 
 while you are quarrelling -with his words, -will you then be- 
 lieve that there is a hell "^ 
 
 4. If sin be such an e-^il that it requii-ed the death of 
 Christ for its expiation, no wonder if it desene oui- ever- 
 lasting miser)'. 
 
 5. And if the sins of the devils deserved an endless tor- 
 ment, why not also the sins of men 1 
 
 6. And methinks you should perceive that it is not pos- 
 sible for the best of men, much less for the wicked, to be 
 competent judges of the desert of sin. Alas ! we are both 
 blind and partial. You can never know fully the desert of 
 sin, till you fiilly know the evil of sin ; and you can never 
 fiilly know the exil of sin, till you fully know, 1. The ex- 
 cellency of the soul which it deformcth. 2. And the ex- 
 cellency of holiness which it doth obliterate. 3. And the 
 reason and the excellency of the law which it -\-iolateth. 
 And, 4. The excellency of the glory which it doth despise. 
 And, 5. The excellency and office of reason which ittreadeth 
 down. 6. No, nor till you know the uifinite excellency, 
 almightmess, and holiness of that God, against whom it is
 
 7G A C--\XL TO THE L■^'C0^"VE1^TKD. 
 
 committed. "When you fully know aU these, you shall fuUy 
 know the desert of sin. Besides, you know that the offender 
 is too partial to judge the law, or the proceedings of his 
 judge. We judge by feeling, which bmds om' reason. We 
 see in common worldly things, that most men think the 
 cause is right which is theu* own, and that aU is wrong that 
 is done against them ; and let the most wise, or just, or im- 
 partial friends persuade them to the contrary, and it is all 
 in vain. There are few children but think the father un- 
 merciful, or that he dealeth hardly with them, if he whip 
 them. There is scarce the vilest, swinish wretch, but tlnnketh 
 the church doth -m-ong him, if they excommunicate him ; 
 or scarce a thief or murderer that is hanged, but would 
 accuse the law and judge of cruelty, if that would serve 
 his turn. 
 
 7. Can you think that an unholy soul is fit for heaven? 
 Alas ! they cannot love God here, nor do him any service 
 which he can accept. Thej' are contrary to God, they 
 loathe that which he most loveth, and love that which he 
 abhorreth. They are mcapable of that imperfect commu- 
 nion with him, which his saints here do partake of. Plow 
 then can they hve in that perfect love of him, and full de- 
 lights and communion with him, which is the blessedness of 
 heaven ? You do not accuse yourselves of unmercifulness, 
 if you make not your enemy your bosom counsellor ; or if 
 you take not your swine to bed and board with you ; no, 
 nor if you take away their life, though they never sinned. 
 And yet will you blame the absolute Lord, the most \dse and 
 gi-acious Sovereign of the world, if he condemn the uncon- 
 verted man to peqaetual misery. 
 
 Use. I beseech you now, all that love your souls, that 
 instead of quaiTeUmg with God, and with his word, you 
 win presently stoop to it, and use it for yom* good. AU 
 you that are yet unconverted in this assembly, take this as 
 the undoubted truth of God ; you must ere long be con- 
 A'erted or condemned, there is no other way but turn or die. 
 When God, that cannot lie, hath told you this, when you 
 hear from the IMaker and Judge of the world, it is time for
 
 A CALL TO THE UXCONYEKTICD. t 7 
 
 lilm that hath ears to hear ; by this time you may see ^^■hat 
 you have to trust to. You are but dead and damned men, 
 except you will be converted. Should I tell you otherwise, 
 I should but deceive you with a He. Should I hide this from 
 you, I shoiild undo you, and be guilty of your blood, as the 
 verses before my text assure me, ver. 8, " When I say to 
 the wicked man, O wicked man, thou shalt surely the ; if 
 thou dost not speak to warn the wicked fi-om his way, that 
 i\acked man shall die in his iniquity, but his blood wUl I 
 require at thme hand." You see then, though this be a 
 rough, unwelcome doctrine, it is such as we must preach 
 and you must hear. It is easier to hear of hell than feel 
 it. If your necessities did not require it, we should not 
 gaU your tender ears with truths that seem so harsh and 
 grievous. Hell would not be so fuU, if people were but 
 ■Holling to know then" case, and to hear and think of it. The 
 reason why so few escape it, is, because they strive not to 
 enter in at the strait gate of conversion, and to go the nar- 
 row way of hohness while they have time ; and they strive 
 not, because they be not awakened to a lively feeling of the 
 danger they are in ; and they be not awakened, because 
 they are loth to hear or think of it ; and that is partly 
 through foohsh tenderness, and carnal self-love, and partly 
 because they do not well beheve the word that threateneth 
 it. If you will not thoroughly believe this truth, methinks 
 the weight of it shoiild force you to remember it, and it 
 shovild follow you and give you no rest till you are converted. 
 If you had but once heard this word, by the voice of an 
 angel, Thou must be converted or condemned ; tiuTi or die ! 
 would it not stick in yoiu' mmd, and haimt you night and 
 day? So that in your smning you would remember it, as if 
 the voice were still in your ears, Tvu-n or die ! Oh happy 
 ■were your souls, if it might thus work with you, and never 
 be forgotten, or let you alone till it hath ch-iven home yom- 
 hearts to God. But if you vrill cast it out by forgetfulness 
 or unbeHef, how can it work to your conversion and salva- 
 tion ? But take this with you, to your sorrow, though you 
 may put this out of your minds, you cannot put it out of the
 
 78 A C.AXL TO THE UNCOm'EUTED. 
 
 Bible ; but there it -vvill stand as a sealed truth, which you 
 shall experimentally know for ever, that there is no other 
 way but turn or die. 
 
 Oh what is the matter then that the hearts of sinners 
 be not pierced with such a weighty truth ! A man would 
 think now that every unconverted soul that hears these 
 words should be pricked to the heart, and thmk with them- 
 selves, This is my own case ; and never be quiet till they 
 found themselves converted. Believe it, sirs, this drowsy, 
 careless temper will not last long. Conversion and con- 
 demnation are both of them awakening things ; and one of 
 them will make you feel ere long. I can foretell it as 
 truly as if I saw it with my eyes, that either gi'ace or hell 
 will shortly bring these matters to the quick, and make you 
 say, A^liat have I done ? What foolish, wicked courses have 
 I taken ? The scornful and stupid state of sinners wiU last 
 but a little while : as soon as they either turn or die, the 
 presumptuous dream vnh be at an end, and then their wits 
 and feeUng will return. 
 
 But I foresee there are two things that are like to harden 
 the unconverted, and make me lose all my labour, except 
 they can be taken out of the way : and that is, the misun- 
 derstanding of those two words, the wicked, and tm'n. 
 Some will think vnth themselves, it is true, the wicked must 
 turn or die ; but what is that to me ? I am not wicked, 
 though I am a sinner, as all men be. Others will thmk, it 
 is true that we must turn fi-om our evil ways ; but I am 
 turned long ago, I hope this is not now to do. And thus, 
 while wicked men think they are not wicked, but are al- 
 ready converted, we lose all our labour in persuading them 
 to tiu-n. I shall therefore, before I go any further, tell you 
 here who are meant by the wicked, and who they be that 
 must turn or die, and also what is meant by turning ; and 
 who they be that are truly converted ; and this I have pur- 
 posely reserved lor this place, preferrmg the method that 
 fits my end. 
 
 And here you may obser\'e, that in the sense of the text, 
 a wicked man and a converted man are contraries. No man
 
 A CALL TO THE UXCOX^'ERTED. 79 
 
 is a wicked man that is converted, and no man is a con- 
 verted man that is wicked ; so that to be a wicked man, 
 and to be an unconverted man, is all one. And therefore 
 in opening one, we shall open both. 
 
 Before I can tell }'0u what either wickedness or conver- 
 sion is, I must go to the bottom, and fetch up the matter 
 fi'om the beginning. 
 
 It pleased the gi'eat Creator of the world to make three 
 sorts of living creatures. Angels he made pm'e spiiits with- 
 out flesh, and therefore he made them only for heaven, and 
 not to dwell on earth. Beasts were made flesh -without im- 
 mortal souls ; and therefore they were made only for earth, 
 and not for heaven. Man is of a middle nature, between 
 both, as partaldng of both flesh and spii-it ; and therefore 
 he was made both for heaven and earth. But as his flesh 
 is made to be but a servant to his spirit, so is he made for 
 earth, but has his passage or way to heaven, and not that 
 this should be his home or happiness. The blessed state 
 that man was made for, was to behold the glorious majestj- 
 of the Lord, and to praise him among his holy angels, and 
 to love him, and be filled with his love for ever. And as 
 this was the end that man Avas made for, so God did give 
 him means that were fitted to the attainuig of it. These 
 means were principally two. Fu'st, The right inclination 
 and disposition of the mind of man. Secondly, The right 
 ordering of his life and practice. For the first, God suited 
 the disposition of man to his end ; giAing him such know- 
 ledge of God, as was fit for his present state, and a heart 
 disposed and inclined to God in holy love. But yet he chd 
 not fix or confirm him m this condition ; but having made 
 him a free agent, he left him in the hands of his own fi-ee- 
 wUl. For the second, God did that which belonged to 
 him ; that is, he gave man a perfect law, requu'mg him to 
 continue in the love of God, and perfectly to obey him. 
 By the Avilful breach of this law, man did not only forfeit 
 his hopes of everlasting life, but also turned his heart from 
 God, and fLxcd it on these lower, fleshly things, and hereby 
 did blot out the spiritual image of God from his soul. So
 
 80 A CAXL TO THE U:,"COX VERTED. 
 
 that man did both fall short of the glory of God, which was 
 his end, and put himself out of the way by which he 
 should have attained it ; and this, both as to the fi'ame of 
 his heart and of his life. The holy inclination and love of 
 his soul to God, he lost ; and instead of it, he contracted 
 an inclination and love to the pleasing of his flesh, or 
 carnal self, by earthly things ; gi'owing strange to God, and 
 acquainted with the creature : and the com'se of his life was 
 suited to the bent and inclination of his heart ; he Uved to 
 his carnal self, and not to God ; he sought the creatm-e for 
 the pleasing of his flesh, mstead of seeking to please the 
 Lord. With this nature or corrupt inclination, we are all 
 now born into the world ; for " who can bring a clean 
 thing out of an unclean?" Job xiv, 4. As a lion hath a 
 fierce and cruel nature before he doth devour, and as an 
 adder hath a venomous nature before she stings, so in our 
 very infancy we have those smfid natiu-es or incUnations, 
 before we think, or speak, or do amiss. And hence 
 springeth aU the sin of our lives. And not only so, but 
 when God hath of his mercy provided us a remedy, even the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, to be the Sa-\-iom' of our souls, and 
 bring us back to God again, we natm'ally love our present 
 state, and are loth to be brought out of it, and therefore 
 are set against the means of om- recover}' ; and though cus- 
 tom hath taught us to thank Christ for his good will, yet 
 carnal self persuadeth us to refuse his remedies, and to de- 
 sire to be excused when we are commanded to take the me- 
 dicines which he offereth, and are called to forsake all, and 
 follow him to God and glory. 
 
 I pray you read over tliis leaf again, and mark it : for in 
 these few words you have a true desci-iption of our natm'al 
 state, and consequently of a wicked man. For every man 
 that is in this state of corrupted natm-e, is a wicked man, 
 and in a state of death. 
 
 By this also you are prepared to imderstand what it is 
 to be converted ; to which end you must fiirther know, 
 that the mercy of God, not willing that man should perish 
 in his sin, pro\ided a remedy, by causing his Son to take
 
 A CALL TO THE UXCOXVERTED. 81 
 
 oiir natiu-e, and being in one person God and man, to be- 
 come a Mediator between God and man ; and by djing for 
 om* sins on the cross, to ransom us fi'oni tlie curse of God, 
 and the power of the de\'il : and having thus redeemed us, 
 tlie Father hath deUvered us into his hands as his own. 
 I lereupon the Father and the Mediator do make a new law 
 and covenant for man. Not Uke the first, which gave life 
 to none but the perfectly obedient, and condemned man for 
 eveiy sin ; but Christ hath made a law of grace, or a pro- 
 mise of pardon and everlasting life to all that by true rejien- 
 tance, and by faith in Christ, aiHJ converted unto God. 
 Like an act of obli\ion, which is made by a piince to a 
 company of rebels, on condition they will lay do^vn then- 
 arms, and come m, and be loyal subjects for the time to 
 come. 
 
 But because the Lord knoweth that the heart of man is 
 grown so wicked, that, for all this, men wiU not accept of 
 the remedy if they be left to themselves ; therefore the Holy 
 Ghost hath undertaken it as his office to inspire the apostles, 
 and seal up the Scripture by mu'acles and Avonders, and to 
 illuminate and convert the souls of the elect. 
 
 So that by this much j'ou see, that as there are three 
 Persons in the Trinity, the Father, the Son, and the Holy 
 Ghost, so all of these Persons have then' several works, 
 which are eminently ascribed to them. 
 
 The Father's works Avere, to create us, to rule us as his 
 rational creatures by the law of nature, and judge us there- 
 by ; and in mercy to proride us a Redeemer when we were 
 lost ; and to send his Son, and accept his ransom. 
 
 The works of the Son for us were these : to ransom and 
 redeem us by his sufferings and righteousness, to give out 
 the promise or law of gi-ace, and rule and judge the world 
 as their Redeemer, on terms of grace ; and to make inter- 
 cession for us, that the benefits of his death may be com- 
 municated ; and to send the Holy Ghost (which the Father 
 also doth by the Son.) 
 
 The works of the Holy Ghost for us are these : to indite 
 the holy Scriptures, by uispiiing and guiding the prophets 
 
 F
 
 82 A CALL TO THE rXCOX^'ERTED. 
 
 and apostles ; and sealing the word by his miraculous gifts 
 and works ; and the illuminating and exciting the ordinf,ry 
 ministers of the gospel ; and so enabling them, and helping 
 them to publish that word, and by the same word illumi- 
 nating and convertmg the souls of men. So that as you 
 could not have been reasonable creatures if the Father had 
 not created you ; nor have had any access to God if the Son 
 had not redeemed you ; so neither can you have a part in 
 Christ, or be saved, except the Holy Ghost do sanctif}- 
 you. 
 
 So that by this time you may see the several causes of 
 this work. The Father sendeth the Son ; the Son redeemeth 
 us, and maketh the promise of grace ; the Holy Ghost in- 
 diteth and sealeth this gospel ; the apostles are the secre- 
 taries of the Spirit, to -smte it ; the preachers of the gospel 
 are the heralds to proclaim it, and persuade men to obey it ; 
 and the Holy Ghost doth make their preaching effectual, by 
 opening the hearts of men to entertain it. And all this to 
 repair the image of God upon the soul, and to set the heart 
 upon God again, and take it off the creatm-e and carnal self, 
 to which it is revolted, and so tm-n the current of this life 
 into a heavenly course, which before was earthly ; and all 
 this by the entertainment of Christ by faith, who is the 
 Physician of the soul. 
 
 By this wliich I have said, you may see what it is to be 
 wicked, and what it is to be unconverted. "WTiich, I think, 
 will be yet plainer to you, if I describe them as consisting of 
 theii- several parts : and for the fu-st, A wicked man may be 
 kno^vn by these three things : 
 
 First, He is one that placeth his chief content on earth ; 
 and loveth the creature more than God ; and his fleshly 
 prosperity above the heavenly felicity : he savoureth the 
 things of the flesh, but neither discerneth nor savoureth the 
 things of the Spu-it ; though he will say that heaven is better 
 than earth, yet doth he not really so esteem it to himself. If 
 he might be sure of earth, he would let go heaven, and had 
 rather stay here than be removed thither. A* life of perfect 
 holiness ia the sight of God, and in his love, and praises for
 
 CALL TO THE I":\'COXVEHTED. 83 
 
 ever in heaven, dotli not find sucli liking -witii bis heart as 
 a life of health, and Avealth, and honoiu" here upon earth. 
 And though he falsely profess that he loveth God above all, 
 yet indeed he never felt the power of di\dne love within him, 
 but his mind is more set on the world, or fleshly pleasures, 
 than on God. In a word, whoever loveth earth above 
 heaven, and fleshly prosperity more than God, is a wicked, 
 imconverted man. 
 
 On the other side, a converted man is illuminated to dis- 
 cern the loveliness of God : and so for beUeveth the glorj- 
 that is to be had with God, that his heart is taken up to it, 
 and set more upon it than on any thing in this world. He 
 had rather see the foce of God, and Uve in his everlasting 
 love and praises, than have all the wealth or pleasure of the 
 world. He seeth that all things else are vanit}-, and nothing 
 but God can fill the soid ; and therefore let the world go 
 which way it will, he layeth up his treasm-es and hopes in 
 heaven ; and for that he is resolved to let go all. As the 
 fire doth mount upward, and the needle that is touched with 
 the loadstone still turneth to the north, so the converted soul 
 is inclined unto God. jSTothing else can satisfy him ; nor 
 fan he find any content and rest but in his love. Li a word, 
 all that are converted do esteem and love God better than 
 all the world, and the heavenly felicity Is dearer to them 
 than their fleshly prospeiity. The proof of what I have said 
 you may find in these places of Scriptm-e, PhU. ill. 18, 21 ; 
 Matt. vi. 19-21 ; Coh iii. 1-4 ; Rom. vlii. 3, 6-9, 18, 23 ; 
 Psal. Ixxlii. 25, 26. 
 
 Secondly, A wicked man is one that maketh it the priu- 
 <lpal busmess of his life to prosper in the world, and attam 
 his fleshly ends. And though he may read and hear, and 
 do much in the outward duties of reUgion, and forbear dis- 
 graceful sins ; yet this is all but upon the bye, and he never 
 makes It the trade and pmiclpal business of his life to please 
 God and attain everlasting glorj', but puts off" God vntb. the 
 lea-vlngs of the world, and gives him no more ser^-Ice than the 
 flesh can spare ; for he will not part with all for heaven. 
 
 On the contrary, a converted man is one that makes it
 
 84 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 
 
 the principal care and business of his life to please God, and 
 to be saved ; and takes all the blessings of this life but as 
 accommodations in his journey towards another life, and 
 useth the creature in subordination unto God : he loveth a 
 holy life, and longeth to be more holy ; he hath no sin but 
 what he hateth, and longeth, and prayeth, and striveth to 
 be rid of. The di-rft and bent of his Ufe is for God ; and if 
 he sin, it is contrary to the very bent of his heart and life, and 
 therefore he rises agahi, and lamenteth it, and dare not wil- 
 fully Hve in any known sin. There is nothing in this world 
 so dear to him but he can give it up to God, and forsake it 
 for him and the hopes of glory. All this you may see in 
 Col. iii. 1-5 ; Matt. \i. 20, 33 ; Luke xviii. 22, 23, 29 ; 
 xiv. 18, 24, 26, 27; Kom. viii. 13; Gal. v. 24; Luke 
 xii. 21, &c. 
 
 Thii'dly, The soul of a wicked man did never truly dis- 
 cern and relish the mj'stery of redemption, nor thankfully 
 entertain an offered Saviour, nor is he taken up \vith the 
 love of the Redeemer, nor willing to be ruled by him, as the 
 Physician of his soul, that he may be saved from the guilt 
 and power of his sins, and recovered unto God ; but his heart 
 is insensible of this unspeakable benefit, and is quite against 
 the heaUng means by which he should be recovered. Though 
 he may be wilhng to be carnally religious, yet he never re- 
 signed up his soul to Christ, and to the motions and conduct 
 of his word and Spirit. 
 
 On the contrary, the converted soul having felt himself 
 undone by sin ; and perceiving that he hath lost his peace 
 with God, and hopes of heaven, and is in danger of ever- 
 lasting misery, doth thanklliUy entertain the titlings of re- 
 demption; and bellcA-ing in the Lord Jesus as his only 
 SaAdour, resigneth up himself to him for wisdom, righteous- 
 ness, sanctification, and redemption. He taketh Christ as 
 the life of his soul, and liveth by him, and useth him as a 
 salve for every sore, admii-ing the wisdom and love of God 
 in his wonderful work of man's redemption. Li a word, 
 Christ doth even dwell in his heart by faith, and the life that 
 he now liveth is by faith in the Sou of God, who loved 
 t
 
 A CALL TO THE UXCOX^'ERTED. 85 
 
 liim and gave himself for liim. Yea, it is not so much he 
 that liveth, as Christ in him. For these, see John i. 1], 
 12; iii. 19, 20; Rom. \-iii. 9 ; Phil. iii. 7-10; Gal. ii. 
 20; John xv. 2-4 ; 1 Cor. i. 20 ; ii. 2. 
 
 You see now in plain terms, fi-om tlie word of God, who 
 are the wicked, and who are the converted. Ignorant 
 people think, that if a man be no swearer, nor curser, nor 
 railer, nor drunkard, nor fornicator, nor extortioner, nor 
 wrong any body in their dealings, and if they come to 
 church, and say their prayers, these cannot be Avicked men. 
 Or if a man that hath been guilty of ih'unkenness, swearing, 
 gaming, or the like -vices, do but forbear them for the time 
 to come, they think that this is a converted man. Others 
 think, if a man that hath been an enemy, and a scomer 
 of godliness, do but approve it, and join himself with those 
 that are godly, and be hated for it by the -wicked, as the 
 godly are, that this needs must be a converted man. And 
 some are so foolish as to think they are converted, by tak- 
 ing up some new and false opinion ; and falling into some 
 diAiding party, as baptists, quakers, papists, or such like. 
 And some think, if they have but been affrighted by the fears 
 of hell, and had con\actions, and gripes of conscience, and 
 thereupon have purposed and promised amendment, and 
 taken up a life of cinl be]ia\'iour, and outward religion, that 
 this must needs be true conversion. And these are the poor 
 deluded soids that are like to lose the benefit of all our 
 persuasions. And when they hear that the -wicked must 
 turn or die, they think that this is not spoken of them ; for 
 they are not wicked, but are turned already. And there- 
 fore it is, that Christ told some of the rulers of the Jews, 
 who -were more gTave and ci-\il than the common people, 
 that " Publicans and harlots do go into the kingdom of 
 God before them," Matt. xxi. 31. Not that a harlot or 
 gross sinner can be saved -without conversion, but because 
 it was easier to make those gross sinners perceive their sin 
 and misery, and the necessity of a change, when the civiler 
 sort do delude themselves by tliiiiking that they are con- 
 verted already, when they be not.
 
 86 A CALL TO ti:e uxcox verted. 
 
 O sirs, conversion is anotlier kind of work tlian most m\ 
 aware of. It is not a small matter to bring an eartlily 
 mind to heaven, and to shew man the amiable excellencic < 
 of God, tni he be taken up in such love to him that can 
 never be quenched ; to break the heart for sin, and make 
 him fly for refuge unto Christ, and thankfully embrace hiii' 
 as the life of his soul ; to have the very drift and bent of 
 the heart and hfe to he changed ; so that a man renouncetli 
 that which he took for liis felicity, and placeth his feUcity 
 where he never did before, and liveth not to the same end, 
 and di'iveth not on the same design m the world as former- 
 ly he did : in a word, he that is in Christ "is a nev>- 
 creatiu^e ; old thmgs are passed away, behold aU thuigs arc 
 become new," 2 Cor. v. 17. He hath a new understanding. 
 a new will and resolution, new sorrows, and desu-es, and 
 love, and dehght ; new thoughts, new speeches, new com- 
 pany (if possible), and a new conversation. Sin, that be- 
 fore was a jesting matter -with him, is now so odious and 
 terrible to huu that he Hies from it as from death. The 
 world, that was so lovely in his eyes, doth now appear but 
 as vanity and vexation. God, that was before neglected. 
 is now the only happmess of his soul : before he was for- 
 gotten, and every lust preferred before him ; but now is 
 set next the heart, and all things must give place to him ; 
 and the heart is taken up in the attendance and observance 
 of him, and is gi-ieved when he hides his face, and neve.- 
 thinks itself well without him. Christ hunself, that was 
 wont to be slightlj" thought of, is nov/ his only hope and re- 
 fuge, and he hves upon him as on his daily bread ; he can- 
 not pray without him, nor rejoice Avithout him, nor thinl:, 
 nor speak, nor live, without hiui. Heaven itself, that be- 
 fore was looked upon but as a tolerable reserve, which he 
 hoped might serve tm-n better than hell, when he could not 
 stay any longer m the world, is now taken for his home, 
 the place of his<only hope and rest, where he shall see, and 
 love, and praise that God that hath his heart already. Hell, 
 that did seem before but as a bugbear to fi-ighten men 
 from sin, doth now appear to be a real misery, that is not
 
 A c.-'lll to the u^'CO^^\'EKTED. 87 
 
 to be ventured on or jested witli. The T7orks of holiness, 
 •which before he was weary of, and seemed to be more ado 
 than needs, are now both his recreation, and his busmcss, 
 and the trade he hves upon. Tlie Bible, which was before to 
 him but almost as a common book, is now as the law of God, 
 as a letter written to him fi-om heaven, and subscribed with 
 the name of the Eternal ^Majesty ; it is the rule of his 
 thoughts, and words, and deeds ; the commands are binding, 
 the threats are di-eadilil, and the promises of it speak life to 
 his soul. The godly, that seemed to him but like other 
 men, are now the most excellent and happiest on earth. 
 And the wicked that were his play-fellows, are now his 
 grief; and he that could laugh at their sins, is readier now 
 to weep for their sin and misery, Psal. xv. 4 ; x\i. 3 ; Phil, 
 iii. 18. In short, he hath a new end in his thoughts, and 
 a new way in his endeavom's, and therefore his heart and 
 life ai-e new. Before, his carnal self was his end ; and his 
 pleasure, and worldly profits, and credits were his way. 
 And now, God and everlasting glory are his end ; and 
 Christ, and the Spirit, and the word, and ordinances, holiness 
 to God, and righteousness and mercy to men, these are his 
 way. Before, self was the chiefest ruler, to which the mat- 
 ters of God and conscience must stoop and give place ; and 
 now God in Chi-ist, by the Spirit, word, and ministry, is the 
 chiefest Eider, to whom both self, and all the matters of 
 self, must give place. So that this is not a change in one, 
 or two, or twenty points, but in the whole soul ; and the 
 very end and bent of the conversation. A man may step 
 out of one path into another, and yet have his face still 
 the same way, and be still going towards the same place ; 
 but it is another matter to turn quite back again, and 
 take his journey the clean contrary way, to a contraiy place. 
 So it is here ; a man may turn fi'om di'imkenness to thiifti- 
 ness, and forsake his good fellowship, and other gi'oss, dis- 
 graceful sins, and set upon some duties of rehgion, and yet 
 be going still to the same end as before, intending his car- 
 nal self above all, and giving it still the government of his 
 soul. But when he is converted, this self is denied and
 
 88 A CALL TO THE L^'COXVERTED. 
 
 taken do\vn, and God is set up, and his face is tuiTied the 
 contrary way : and he that before was addicted to himself, 
 and lived to himself, is now by sanctification devoted to 
 God, and liveth nnto God. Before he asked himself what 
 he should do with his time, liis parts, and his estate, and 
 for himself he used them ; but now he asketh God what he 
 shall do with them, and useth them for him : before he 
 would please God so far as might stand with the pleasure 
 of his flesh and carnal self, but not to any great displea- 
 sm'e of them; but now he "vnll please God, let flesh and 
 self be ever so much displeased. This is the great change 
 that God will make upon all that shall be saved. 
 
 You can say that the Holy Ghost is oiu* Sanctifier ; but 
 do you know what sanctification is ? Why, this is it that I 
 have now opened to you : and every man or woman in the 
 world must have tliis, or be condemned to everlasting miser)-. 
 They must turn or die. 
 
 Do you believe all this, sii's, or do you not ? Surely j'ou 
 dare not say you do not ; for it is past all doubt or denial. 
 These are not controversies, where one learned, pious man 
 is of one mind, and another of another; where one party 
 saith this, and the otlier saith that : papists and baptists, 
 and every sect among us, that deserve to be called Chnstians, 
 are all agreed in this that I ha^e said ; and if you will not 
 believe the God of truth, and that in a case where eveiy 
 sect and party doth beUe"\e him, you are utterly inexcus- 
 able. 
 
 But if you do believe this, how comes it to pass that you 
 are so quiet in an unconverted state ? Do you think you are 
 converted ? and can you find this wonderful change upon 
 yoiu" souls ? Have you been thus born again, and made 
 anew ? Be not these strange matters to many of you ? and 
 such as you never felt upon yourselves ? If you cannot 
 tell the day or week of your change, or the very sermon 
 that converted you, jet do you find that the work is done, 
 and such a change indeed there is? and that you have such 
 hearts as are before described ? Alas, the most do follow 
 their worldly business, and little trouble theii" minds with
 
 A CAXL TO THE LTCCOX^'ERTED. 89 
 
 sucli tliouglits. And if they be but restrained fi-om scan- 
 dalous sins, and can say, I am no -whoremonger, nor thief, 
 nor curser, nor swearer, nor tippler, nor extortioner ; I go 
 to the church and say my praters ; they thmk that this is 
 true conversion, and they shall be saved as well as any. 
 Alas, tliis is foolish cheating of yourselves ; this is too much 
 contempt of an endless glory, and too gross neglect of your 
 immortal souls. Can you make so Hght of heaven and hell? 
 Your corpse vrill shortly lie in the dust, and angels or devils 
 ■VN-ill presently seize upon your souls ; and every man or 
 woman of you all, will shortly be among other company, 
 and in another case than now you are: you will dwell in 
 these houses but a httle longer ; you will work in your shops 
 and fields but a little longer ; you -n-ill sit in these seats, and 
 dwell on this eaith, but a little longer ; j'ou v.-i\\ see with 
 those eyes, and hear vciih those ears, and speak with those 
 tongues, but a little longer, till the resurrection day ; and 
 can you make shift to forget this? Oh what a place wiU 
 you be shortly in of joy or torment ! Oh what a sight wll 
 you shortly see in heaven or hell ! Oh what thoughts will 
 shortly fill your hearts with unspeakable delight or horror ! 
 What work will }'ou be emplo}ed in ! To praise the Lord 
 with samts and angels, or to ciy out in fire unquenchable 
 with deAnls : and should all this be forgotten ? And all this 
 will be endless, and sealed up by an unchangeable decree. 
 Eternity, etemitj- will be the measure of your joys or sor- 
 rows ; and can this be forgotten ? And all this is true, sii's, 
 most certainly true : when you have gone up and doAvn a 
 little longer, and slept and awaked but a few times more, 
 you will be dead and gone, and find all true that now I tell 
 you ; and yet can you now so much forget it ? You shall 
 then remember you heard this sermon, and that this day, in 
 this place, you were remembered of these things, and per- 
 ceive them matters a thousand times gi'cater than either you 
 or I could here conceive ; and yet shall they be now so 
 much forgotten ? 
 
 Beloved friends, if the Lord had not awakened me to be- 
 lieve and lay to heart these things myself, I should have re-
 
 90 A CALL TO TIIK UXCOXA'ERTED. 
 
 mained in tlie dark and selfisli state, and have perislied for 
 ever ; but if lie have truly made me sensible of them, it will 
 constrain me to compassionate you, as well as myself. If 
 yom* eyes were so far open as to see hell, and you saw your 
 neighbours that were unconverted, dragged thither with 
 hideous cries ; though they Avere such as you accounted 
 honest people on earth, and feared no such matter by them- 
 selves ; such a sight would make you go home and think of 
 it, and think again, and make you warn all about j^ou, as 
 that damned worldling in Luke xvi. 28 would have had 
 his brethren warned, lest they come to that place of torment. 
 ^'\Tiy, ftiith is a Idnd of sight, it is the eye of the soul, the 
 CA-idence of things not seen : if I beHeve God, it is next to 
 seeing ; and therefore I beseech you excuse me, if I be half 
 as earnest yviib. you about these matters, as if I had seen 
 them. If I must die to-morrow, and it were in my power 
 to come again from another world, and teU you what I had 
 seen, would you not be willuig to hear me ? and would you 
 not believe and regard what I shoidd tell you ? If I might 
 preach one sermon to you after I am dead, aud have seen 
 what is done m the world to come, would you not have nic 
 plainly speak the truth ? aud would you not crowd to hear 
 me ? and would j-ou not lay it to heai't ? but this must not 
 be : God hath his appomted way of teachmg you by Scrip- 
 ture and ministers ; and he will not humour unbeUevers so 
 far, as to send men from the dead to them, and alter his 
 established way : if any man quarrel with the sun, God will 
 not humour him so far, as to set up a clearer Ught. Friends, 
 I beseech you regard me now, as you would do if I should 
 come fi-om the dead to you ; for I can give you the full assu- 
 rance of the truth of what I say to you, as if I had been 
 •there and seen it with my eyes: for it is possible for one 
 from the dead to deceive you ; but Jesus Christ can never 
 deceive you ; the word of God dehvered in Scripture, and 
 sealed up by the mu-acles and holy workings of the Spirit, 
 can never deceive you. BeUeve this, or believe nothing. 
 BeUeve and obey this, or you are undone. Now, as ever 
 jou believe the word of God, and as as ever you care for
 
 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 9 1 
 
 tlie salvation of your souls, let me beg of }-ou tliis reasonable 
 i'equest, and I beseech you deny me not, that you would 
 without any more delay, when you are gone from hence, 
 remember what you heard, and enter into an earnest search 
 of your hearts, and say mito yourselves, Is it so uideed ? 
 ]VIust I tm-n or die ? Must I be converted or condemned ? 
 It is time for me then to look about me, before it be too 
 late. Oh why did not I look after this till now ? "Why did I 
 venturously put off or slubber over so great a business ? "Was 
 I awake, or in my wits? O blessed God, what a mercy is it 
 that thou didst not cut off my life all this while, before I 
 had any certain hope of eternal life ! "\Yell, God foi-bid that 
 I should neglect this work any longer. "What state is my 
 sold in ? Am I converted, or am I not ? Was ever such a 
 change or work done upon my soul ? Have I been illumi- 
 nated by the word and Spirit of the Lord, to see the odious- 
 ness of sin, the need of a Saviour, the love of Christ, and 
 the excellences of God and glory? Is my heart broken, or 
 humbled wdthin me, for my former life ? Have I thankfully 
 entertained my SaAiour and Lord, that offered himself with 
 pardon and life to my soul? Do I hate my former sinful 
 life, and the remnant of eveiy sin that is in me ? Do I fly 
 from them as my deadly enemies ? Do I give up myself to 
 a life of holiness and obechence to God ? Do I love it and 
 delight in it ? Can I truly say, that I am dead to the world, 
 and carnal self; and that I live for God, and the glory 
 which he hath promised ? Hath heaven more of my estima- 
 tion and resolution than earth? And is God the dearest and 
 highest in my soul ? Once, I am sure, I Hved prmcipally to 
 the world and flesh, and God had nothing but some heart- 
 less services which the world coidd spare, and wliich were 
 the leavings of flesh. Is m.y heart now turned another way? 
 Have I a new design, and a new end, and a new train of 
 holy affections ? Have I set my hope and heart in heaven ? 
 And is it the scope, and design, and bent of my heart and life, 
 to get well to heaven, and see the glorious face of God, and 
 live in his everlasting love and praise ? And when I sin, is 
 it against the habitual bent and design of mv heart? And
 
 92 A CALL TO THE UXCOXVERTED. 
 
 do I conquer all gross sins, and am I weary and willing to 
 be rid of my infirmities ? Tliis is the state of a converted 
 sold. And thus must it be ■with me, or I must perish. Is 
 it thus Avith me indeed, or is it not ? It is time to get this 
 doubt resolved, before the dreadful Judge resolve it. I am 
 not such a stranger to my own heart and life, but I may 
 somewhat perceive whether I am thus converted or not : if 
 I be not, it will do me no good to flatter my soid with false 
 conceits and hopes. I am resolved no more to deceive my- 
 self, but to endeavour to know trulj', off or on, whether I be 
 converted, yea or no ; that if I be, I may rejoice in it, and. 
 glorify my gracious Lord, and comfortably go on tUl I reach 
 the crown ; and if I am not, I may set myself to beg and 
 seek after the gi-ace that should convert me, and may turn 
 without any more delay : for if I find in time that I am out 
 of the way, by the help of Christ I may turn and be re- 
 ceived ; but if I stay till either my heart be forsaken of 
 God in blindness and hardness, or till I be catched away by 
 death, it is then too late. There is no place for repentance 
 and conversion then ; I know it must be now or never. 
 
 Sirs, this is my request to you, that you will but take 
 your hearts to task, and thus examine them, till you see, if 
 it may be, whether you are converted or not ; and if you 
 cannot find it out by yoiu" own endeaTours, go to your mi- 
 nisters, if they be fiiithful and experienced men, and desire 
 their assistance. The matter is great, let not bashfulness 
 nor carelessness hinder you. Tliey are set over you to ad- 
 vise you for the savnng of your souls, as pli}'sicians ad\ise 
 you for the curing of your bodies. It undoes many thou- 
 sands, that they think they are in the way to salvation, 
 when they are not ; and think that they are converted, 
 when it is no such thing. And then when we call to them 
 daily to turn, they go away as they came, and think that 
 this concerns not them ; for thej' are turned ah-eady, and 
 hope they shall do well enough in the way that they are in, 
 at least if they do pick the fiurest path, and avoid some of 
 the foulest stej)s ; when alas, all this while, they live but to 
 the world and flesh, and are strangers to God and eternal
 
 A CALL TO THE IINXOXVEIITED. 93 
 
 life, and are quite out of the way to heaven. And all this 
 is much because we cannot persuade them to a few serious 
 thoughts of theli' condition, and to spend a few hom-? 
 in the examining of thcii* states : is there not many a 
 self-conceited Avretch that hears me this day, that never 
 bestowed one hour, or a quarter of an hour, m all their 
 lives, to examine their souls, and try whether thoy are 
 truly converted or not ? O mercifid God, that will care for 
 such wretches that care no more for themselves, and tliat 
 "will do so much to save them fi'om hell, and help them 
 to heaven, who will do so little for it themselves ! If all 
 that are in the way to hell, and m a state of damnation, did 
 but know it, they durst not continue in it. The greatest 
 ho]>e that the de\'il hath, of brmging you to damnation 
 without a rescue, is by keeping you blindfold and ignorant 
 of your state, and making you believe that you may do 
 well enough In the way that you are in. If you knew 
 tliat you were out of the way to heaven, and were lost 
 lor ever. If you shoidd die as you are, durst you sleep an- 
 other night m the state that you are in ? Durst jou live 
 another day in it ? Coidd }ou heartil}' laugh or be merry m 
 such a state ? ^\niat ! and not know but you may be snatch- 
 ed away to hell in an hour ! Sure it would constrain you to 
 forsake your former company and courses, and to betake 
 yourselves to the ways of holiness, and the communion of 
 the saints. Siu-e it would di-ive you to cry to God for a 
 new heart, and to seek help of those that are fit to counsel 
 you. There is none of you, sure, that cares not for being 
 damned. Well then, I beseech you, presently make ui- 
 quii-y into your hearts, and give theui no rest till you find 
 out your condition, that if it be good, you may rejoice in it 
 and go on ; and if it be bad, you may presently look about 
 you for recovery, as men that believe they must turn or 
 die. What say you, sirs, will you resolve and promise to 
 be at thus much labour for your souls ? Will you fall upon 
 this self-examiaation Avhen you come home ? Is my re(]uest 
 unreasonable ? Your consciences know it is not ; resolve on 
 it then, before you stir : knowing how much it concerneth
 
 0-i A CALL TO THE UNCOX VKKTED. 
 
 yoiu' souls, I beseech you for tlie sake of that God that doth 
 command you, at ■whose bar you vdW shorth' appear, that 
 you -will not deny me tlils reasonable request. For tlie sake 
 of those souls that must turn or die, I beseech you deny me 
 not ; even but to make it your business to understand your 
 OAvn conditions, and build upon sure ground, and know off 
 or on^ whether you are converted or no, and ventui'e not 
 your souls on negligent secm-ity. 
 
 But jierhaps you will say. What if we should find our- 
 selves yet unconverted, what shall we do then ? This ques-, 
 tion leadeth me to my second doctrine ; which will do much 
 to the answering of it, to which I shall now proceed. 
 
 Doct. II. It is the promise of God, that the wicked shall 
 live if they Anil but turn, unfeignedly and thoroughly turn. 
 
 The Lord here professeth, that this is it he takes plea- 
 sure in, that the wicked turn and hve. Heaven is made 
 as sure to the converted, as hell is to the unconverted. 
 Turn and live, is as certain a truth as turn or die. God 
 was not bound to proA^ide us a Saviour, nor open to us 
 the door of hope, nor call to us to repent and turn, when 
 once we had cast ourselves away by sin. But he hath free- 
 ly done it to magnify his mercy. Sinners, there are none 
 of you shall have cause to go home and say, I preach des- 
 peration to you. Do we use to shut up the door of mercy 
 against you? Oh that you would not shut it up against 
 yourselves ! Do we use to tell you that God will have 
 no mercy on you, though you turn and be sanctified ? AMien 
 did you ever hear a preacher say such a word? You that 
 bark at the preachers of the gospel, for desu-ing to keep you 
 out of hell, and say that they preach desperation ; tell me 
 if you can, when did you ever hear any sober man say, that 
 there is no hope for you, though ye repent and be convert- 
 ed ? !N"o, it is the clean contrary that we daily proclaun 
 from the Lord, Tliat whosoever is born again, and by faith 
 and repentance doth become a new creature, shall certainly 
 be saved ; and so far we are from persuacHng you to despair 
 of this, that we persuade you not to make any doubt of it. 
 It is life, and not death, that is the first part of cm* mes-
 
 A CAiL TO THE ITXCOX VERTED. Oo 
 
 sage to you ; oui- commission is to offer salvation ; certain 
 salvation, a speedy, glorious, everlasting- salvation, to every 
 one of you ; to the poorest beggar, as well as to the great- 
 est lord ; to the -svorst of you, even to the drunkards, sivcar- 
 ers, Tvorldlings, thieves, yea, to the despisers and reproachers 
 of the holy way of salvation. We are commanded by our 
 Lord and Master to offer you a pardon for all that is past, 
 if you ■will but now at last return and live ; we are com- 
 manded to beseech and entreat you to accept the offer and 
 retm-n ; to* tell you what preparation is made by Christ, 
 what mercy stays for you, what patience waiteth on you, 
 what thoughts of Idndness God hath towards you ; and how 
 happy, how certainly and unspeakably happy, you may be 
 if you will. "We have indeed, also, a message of wi-ath and 
 death ; yea, of a twofold wrath and death ; but neither of them 
 is our piincipal message : we must teU you of the wi-ath that is 
 on you abeady, and the death that you are born under, for 
 the breach of the law of works : but this is only to shew }-oii 
 the need of mercy, and provoke you to esteem the gi"ace of 
 the Redeemer. And we tell you nothing but the truth, which 
 }'ou must know : for who wUl seek out for physic, that knows 
 not that he is sick ? For telling you of yom" misery, is not 
 it that makes you miserable, but driveth you to seek for 
 mercy. It is you that have brought this death upon your- 
 selves. We tell you also of another death, even remediless, 
 and much greater torment which will fidl on those that xnH 
 not be converted. But as this is true, and must be told 
 you ; so it is but the last and saddest part of our message : 
 we are first to offer you mercy, if you Avill tmni ; and it is 
 only those that will not timi nor hear the voice of mercy, 
 that we must foretell damnation to. Will you but cast away 
 your transgi'essions, delay no longer, but come away at the 
 call of Christ and be converted, and become new creatures, 
 and we have not a word of damning Avi-ath or death to 
 speak against you. I do here in the name of the Lord of 
 life proclaim to you all that hear me this day, to the 
 worst of you, to the greatest, to the oldest sinner, that you 
 may have mercy and salvation if you wUl but turn. Tliere
 
 96 A C.*JLL TO THE U^'CONVERTED, 
 
 is mercy in God, there is sufficiency in the satisfaction of 
 Christ, the promise is free, full, and universal : you may 
 have life if you -vviU but turn. But then, as you love your 
 souls, remember what turnuig it is the Scripture speaks of. 
 It is not to mend the old house, but to puU down all, and 
 build anew on Christ the rock and sure foundation. It is 
 not to mend somewhat in a carnal course of life, but to 
 mortify the llesh, and live after the Spu'it. It is not to 
 serve the flesh and the world m a more reformed way, 
 without any scandalous disgraceful sins, and Avithp a certain 
 kuid of religiousness ; but it is to change youi* master, and 
 your works, and end, and set yom* face a contraiy way, 
 and do all for the life that you never saw, and dedicate 
 yourselves and all you have to God. This is the change 
 that must be made, if you will live. 
 
 Yourselves are witness now, that it is salvation, and not 
 damnation, that is the great doctiine I preach to you, and 
 the first part of my message to you. Accept of this, and 
 we shall go no further with you : for we would not so 
 much as affi'ight or trouble you with the name of danma- 
 tion without necessity. 
 
 But if you will not be saved, there is no remedy, but 
 damnation must take place ; for there is no middle place 
 between the two. You must have either life or death. 
 
 And we are not only to ofler you life, but to shew you 
 the gi'ounds on which we do it, and call you to believe, that 
 God doth mean indeed as he speaks ; that the promise is 
 time, and extendeth conditionally to you as weU as others, 
 and that heaven is no fancy, but a true feUcity. 
 
 If you ask, where is our commission for this offer? 
 Among a hundred texts of Scripture, I will shew it unto 
 you in these few: 
 
 First, you see it here m my text, and the follo^ving verses * 
 and in Ezek. xviii. as pUiin as can be spoken. And in 2 
 Cor. v. 17-21, you have the very sum of our commission 
 (" If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature : old things 
 ai-e passed away ; behold, all things are become new. And 
 all thuigs are of God, who hath reconciled us to himself by
 
 A CALL TO THE VN'CONVEKTKD. 97 
 
 Jesus Christ, and bath given to us the ministiy of reconcili- 
 ation ; to Avit, that God was in Christ, i-econciling the 
 world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto tliem ; 
 and hath committed unto us the word of reconciliation. 
 Xow then we are ambassadors for Clmst, as though God 
 (hd beseech }0U by us ; we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye 
 reconciled unto God. For he hath made him to be sin for 
 us, who knew no sin ; that we might be made the righteous- 
 ness of God in him.") So Mark xvi. 15, 16, " Go ye mto 
 all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature. He 
 that believetli (that is, with such a converting faith as is be- 
 fore expressed) and is baptized shall be saved ; but he that 
 believeth not shall be damned." And Luke xxiv. 46, 47, 
 " Thus it behoved Christ to suiler, and to rise from the dead 
 the third daj^ : and that repentance (which includes conver- 
 sion) and remission of sins should be preached in his name 
 among all nations." And Acts. v. 30, 31, " The God of 
 our fathers raised up Jesus, whom ye slew and hanged on a 
 tree. Him hath God exalted with his right hand to be a 
 Pi-ince and a Sa^iour, to give repentance to Israel, and for- 
 giveness of sms." And Acts xiii. 38, 39, "Be it kno^vn 
 mito you, therefore, men and brethren, that through this 
 man is preached unto you the forgiveness of sins : and by 
 him all that believe are justified from all tilings, from v/hich 
 ye could not be justified by the law of Moses." And lest 
 you tliink this offer is restrained to the Jews, see Gal. \i. 
 15, " For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision availeth any 
 thing, nor uncircumcision, but a new creature." And Luke 
 xiv. 17, " Come, for all things are now ready;" and ver. 
 23, 24. 
 
 You see l)y this time, that we are commanded to offer 
 life to you all, and to teU you from God, that if you 
 will turn }ou maj- Kve. 
 
 Here you may safely ti'ust your souls ; for the love of 
 God is the fountain of this offer, John iii. 16. And the 
 blood of the Son of God hath purchased it ; the fiuthfi.d- 
 ness and truth of God is engaged to make the promise 
 good ; mii-acles have sealed up the truth of it ; preacli- 
 
 G
 
 98 A CALL TO THE LT\CON\"ERTED. 
 
 ers are sent through the Avorld to proclaim it ; the sa- 
 craments are instituted and used for the solemn sealing 
 of the mercy offered, to them that mil accept it ; and 
 the Spu-it doth open the heart to entertain it, and is it- 
 self the earnest of the flill possession. So that the truth 
 of it is past controversy, that the worst of you all, and 
 every one of you, if you wiU but be converted, may be 
 saved. 
 
 Indeed, if you will needs believe that you shall be saved 
 without conversion, then you beUeve a falsehood ; and if I 
 should preach that to you, I should preach a lie. This . 
 were not to believe God, but the devil and your own de- 
 ceitful hearts. God hath his promise of hfe, and the devil 
 hath his promise of life. God's promise is, Return and live; 
 the devil's is. Thou shalt live whether thou turn or not. 
 The words of God are, as I have shewed you, " Except 
 ye be converted and become as httle children, ye cannot 
 enter into the kingdom of heaven," Matt, xviii. 3. " Ex- 
 cept a man be born again, he cannot enter into the king- 
 dom of God," John iii. 3, 5. " Without holiness no man 
 shall see the Lord," Heb. xil. 14. The devil's word is, You 
 may be saved without being born again and converted ; 
 you may go to heaven well enough without being holy ; 
 God doth but frighten you ; he is more merciful than to do 
 as he saith ; he will be better to you than his word. And, 
 alas ! the greatest part of the world believe this word of the 
 de\'il before the word of God, just as our frrst sin and mi- 
 sery came into the world. God saith to our first parents, 
 If ye eat ye shall die ; the devil contradicts him, and saith, 
 Ye shall not die ; and the woman beUeved the de\il before 
 God. So now the Lord saith, Turn or die ; and the de\Tl 
 saith,. You shall not die if you do but cry mercy at last, and 
 give over the acts of sin, when you can practise them no 
 longer. And this is the word that the world believes. O 
 hemous wickedness, to believe the devU before God ! 
 
 And yet that is not the worst, but blasphemously they 
 call this a believing and trusting in God, when they put 
 him in the shape of Satan, who was a liar from the begin-
 
 A CAXL TO THE tINCO]Sr\'T:RTED. 99 
 
 ning ; and when they believe that the word of God is a lie, 
 they call this a trusting God, and say they believe in him, 
 and trust on him for salvation. Where did ever God say, 
 that the unregenerate, unconverted, unsanctified, shall be 
 saved ? Shew such a word in Scripture, I challenge you, if 
 you can. ^Tiy, this is the de-vil's word, and to believe it is 
 to believe the devU, and is the sin that is commonly called 
 presumption. And do you call this a belie^dng and trust- 
 ing God ? There is enough in the word of God to comfort 
 and strengthen the hearts of the sanctified ; but not a word 
 to strengthen the hands of wickedness, nor to give men 
 the least hope of being saved, though they be never sanc- 
 tified. 
 
 But if you win turn, and come into the way of mercy, 
 the mercy of the Lord is ready to entertain you. Then 
 trust God for salvation boldly and confidently, for he is en- 
 gaged by his word to save you. 
 
 He will be a father to none but his chikben, and he will 
 save none but those that forsake the world, the devil, and 
 the flesh, and come into his family, to be members of his 
 Son, and ha^-e communion with the saints. But if they 
 will not come in, it is their own fault ; his doors are open ; 
 he keeps none back ; he never sent such a message as 
 this to any of you, It is now too late, I will not receive 
 thee, though thou be converted. He might have done so, 
 and done you no wrong, but he did not, he doth not to this 
 day, he is stOl ready to receive you, if you were but ready 
 unfeignedly, and with all your hearts, to tm-n. And the ful- 
 ness of this truth will yet more appear in the two following 
 doctrines, which I shall, therefore, next proceed to, before 
 I make a further apijlication of this. 
 
 Doct. HI. God taketh pleasui-e in men's conversion and 
 salvation, but not in their death and damnation. He had 
 rather they would return and live, than go on and die, 
 
 I shall first teach you how to understand this ; and then 
 clear up the truth of it to you. 
 
 And for the first, you must observe these following 
 thmgs : 1. A simple -svillingness and complacency Is the first
 
 100 A CALL TO THE UXCOXVERTKD. 
 
 act of the ■will, folloivlng the simple apprehension of the 
 understanding, before it j^i'oceedeth to compare things 
 together. But the choosing act of the will is a following 
 act, and supposeth the comparing practical act of the 
 nndcrstanchng ; and these two acts may often be carried to 
 contrary objects, without any fault at all in the person. 
 
 2. An unfeigned willingness may have tUvers degrees. 
 Some things I am so fer wiUiiig of, as that I will do all 
 that lieth in my power to accorapHsh them. And some 
 things I am truly willing another should do, when yet 
 I will not do all that ever I am able to procure them, hav- 
 ing man}' reasons to dissuade me therefrom ; though yet I 
 will do all that belongs to me to do. 
 
 3. The will of a ruler, as such, is manifest in maldng 
 and executing laws ; but the will of a man in his simple na- 
 tural capacity, or as absolute lord of liis OAvn, is manifested 
 in desu'ing or resolving of events. 
 
 4. A ruler's will, as lawgiver, is, first and principally, 
 that his law be obeyed, and not at all that the penalty be 
 executed on any, but only on supposition thai; they will not 
 obey his laws. But a ruler's will, as judge, supposeth the 
 law already either kept or broken. And, therefore, he re- 
 solveth on reward or punishment accordingly. 
 
 Hai-ing given you these necessary distmctions, I shall 
 next apply them to the case in hand, in these following 
 propositions : — 
 
 1. It is in the glass of the word and creatures that in 
 this life we must know God. And so, according to the 
 nature of man, we ascribe to him understanding and will, 
 removing all the imperfections that we can, because we ai-e 
 capable of no higher positive conceptions of him. 
 
 2. And on the same gi'ounds we do (with the Scriptures) 
 distinguish between tlie acts of God's vnll, as diversified 
 from the respects, or the objects, though as to God's essence 
 they are all one. 
 
 3. And the bolder, because that when we speak of 
 Christ, we have the more ground for it fi:"om his human 
 nature.
 
 A CALL TO THE UKCOX^'ERTED. 101 
 
 4. And tluis Tve say, tliat the simple complacency, will, 
 or love of God, is to all that is naturally or morally good, 
 according to the natm'e and degree of its goodness. And 
 so he hath pleasure m the conversion and salvation of all, 
 wliich yet will never come to pass. 
 
 5. And God, as Ruler and Lawgiver of the world, had so 
 far a practical ^dll for their salvation, as to make them a 
 free offer of gift of Christ and life, and an act of oblhion 
 for all their sins, so be it they will not unthankfully reject it ; 
 and to command his messengers to offer this gift to all the 
 world, and persuade them to accept it. And so he doth 
 all that, as Lawgiver or Promii^er, belongs to him to do for 
 their salvation. 
 
 6. But yet he resolveth, as Lawgiver, that they that will 
 not turn, shall die. And as Judge, when their day of grace 
 is past, he will execute that decree. 
 
 7. So that he thus unfelgnedly willeth the conversion of 
 those that never will be converted, but not as absolute Lord, 
 with the fullest efficacious resolution, nor as a thmg which he 
 resolveth shall undoubtedh' come to pass, or would engage 
 all his power to accomplish. It is in the power of a prince 
 to set a guard upon a mm-derer, to see that he shall not 
 miu'der and be hanged. But if upon good reason he for- 
 bear this, and do but send to his subjects, and warn and 
 entreat them not to be murderers, I hope he may well sa}-, 
 that he would not have them mm-der and be hanged ; he 
 takes no pleasra-e in it, but rather that they forbear^ and 
 live. And if he do more for some, upon some special rea- 
 son, he is not bound to do so by all. The king may well 
 say to all the murderers and felons in the land, I have no 
 ])leasure in your death, but rather that you would obey my 
 laws and live ; but if you ■will not, I am resolved, for all 
 this, that you shall die. The judge may truly say to the 
 thief, or a murderer, Alas ! man, I have no dehght in thy 
 <leath, I had rather thou hadst kept the law, and saved thy 
 life ; but seeing thou hast not, I must condenm thee, or else 
 I should be unjust. So, though God have no pleasm-e in 
 yom- damnation, and therefore calls upon jou to return and
 
 102 A CALL TO THE TINCONVERTED. 
 
 live, yet he hatli pleasure in the demonstration of his own 
 justice, and the executing his laws ; and, therefore, he is for 
 all this fuUy resolved, that if you will not be converted, you 
 shall be condemned. If God were so much against the 
 death of the wicked, as that he were resolved to do aU that 
 he can to hinder it, then no man should be condemned, 
 whereas Christ telleth you that few wiU be saved. But so 
 far God is against your damnation, as that he will teach you 
 and warn you, and set before you life and death, and offer 
 you your choice, and command his muiisters to entreat you 
 not to damn yourselves, but accept this mercy, and so to 
 leave you without excuse ; but if this will not do, and if 
 stiQ you be unconverted, he professeth to you he is resolved 
 of your damnation, and hath commanded us to say to you 
 in his name, ver. 18, " O wicked man, thou shalt surely 
 die ! " And Christ hath little less than sworn it over and 
 over, with a " Verily, verily, except ye be converted and 
 born again, ye cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven," 
 Matt, xviii. 3 ; John iii. 3. Mark that he saith, " You 
 cannot." It is in vain to hope for it, and in vain to dream 
 that God is willing of it ; for it is a thing that cannot be. 
 
 In a word, you see then the meanmg of the text, that 
 God, the gi-eat Lawgiver of the world, doth take no plea- 
 sure ia the death of the wicked, but rather that they turn 
 and live ; though yet he be resolved that none shall live but 
 those that turn ; and as a judge even deUghteth in justice, 
 and manifesteth his hatred of sin, though not in their misery 
 which they have brought upon themselves, in itself con- 
 sidered. 
 
 2. And for the proofs of this point, I shall be very brief 
 in them, because I suppose you easUy beheve it already. 
 
 1. The very gracious natvu-e of God proclaimed, Exod. 
 xxxiv. 6 ; XX. 6, and frequently elsewhere, may assure you 
 of this, that he hath no pleasure in your death. 
 
 2. If God had more pleasure in thy death than in thy 
 conversion and life, he would not have so fi-equently com- 
 manded thee in his word to tm'n ; he would not have made 
 thee such promises of life, if thou wilt but tm-n ; he would
 
 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 103 
 
 not have persuaded thee to it by so many reasons. The 
 tenor of his gospel proveth the point. 
 
 3. And his commission that he hath given to the minis- 
 ters of the gospel doth fully prove it. If God had taken 
 more pleasure in thy damnation than in thy conversion and 
 salvation, he would never have charged us to offer you 
 mercy, and to teach you the way of life, both pubhcly and 
 privately ; and to entreat and beseech you to turn and live ; 
 to acquaint you of your sins, and foretell you of your danger; 
 and to do all that possibly we can for yom' conversion, and 
 to continue patiently so doing, though you should hate or 
 abuse us for oiu- pams. Would God have done this and 
 appointed his ordinances for your good, if he had taken 
 pleasure in your death ? 
 
 4. It is proved also by the course of his proAddence. If 
 God had rather you were damned than converted and saved, 
 he would not second his word Avith his works, and entice 
 you by his daily kindness to himself, and give }-ou all the 
 mercies of this life, which are his means to lead you to re- 
 pentance, Rom. ii. 4, and bring you so often under his rod, 
 to force you to your wits. He would not set so many ex- 
 amples before your eyes ; no, nor wait on you so patiently 
 
 as he doth from day to day, and year to year. These be 
 not signs of one that taketh pleasure in your death ; if this 
 had been his dehght, how easily could he have had thee 
 long ago in hell ! How oft, before tliis, could he have 
 catched thee away in the midst of thy sms, with a curse, or 
 oath, or lie in thy mouth, in thy ignorance, and pride, and 
 sensuality ; when thou wert last in tliy drunkenness, or last 
 deriding the ways of God! How easily could he have 
 stopped thy breath, and tamed thee with his plagues, and 
 made thee sober in another world ! Alas ! how small a 
 matter is it for the Almighty to rule the tongue of the pro- 
 fanest railer, and tie the hands of the most malicious perse- 
 cutor ; or calm the fury of the bitterest of his enemies, and 
 make them know they are but worms ! If he should but 
 frown upon thee, thou wouldst drop into thy g;-:iv(- If he 
 gave commission to one of his angels to go and .' '^troy ten
 
 104 A C-VLL TO THE UNCOXVERTKD. 
 
 thousand sinners, how quickly would it be done ! How 
 easily can he lay thee upon the bed of languishing, and 
 make thee lie roaring there in pain, and make thee eat 
 the words of reproach which thou hast spoken against his 
 servants, liis word, his worship, and his holy ways ; and 
 make thee send to beg their prayers, whom thou didst de- 
 spise in thy presumption ! How easily can he lay that flesh 
 under gripes and groans, and make it too weak to hold thy 
 soul, and make it more loathsome than the dung of the 
 earth ! That flesh which now must have what it loves, and 
 mast not be displeased, and must be humoured with meat, 
 diiuk, and clothes, Avhatsoever God says to the contrary, 
 how quickly would the frowns of God consume it ! "When 
 thou wast passionately defending th}' sin, and quarrelling 
 with them that would have drawn thee fi-om it, and she'wuig 
 thy spleen against the reprovers, and pleading for the works 
 of darkness ; how easily could God snatch thee away in a 
 moment, and set thee before his dreadful Misjesty, where 
 thou mayest see ten thousand times ten thousand of glorious 
 angels waiting on his throne, and call thee there to plead thy 
 cause, and ask thee, What hast thou now to say against thy 
 Creator, his truth, his servants, or his holy ways? now plead 
 thy cause, and make the best of it thou canst. Now what 
 canst thou say in excuse of thy sins ? Now give account of 
 thy worldliness and fleshly life, of thy time, of all thy mer- 
 cies thou hast had. Oh how thy stubborn heart would have 
 melted, and thy proud looks be taken down, and thy coun- 
 tenance appalled, and thy stout words turned into speech- 
 less silence, or dreadful cries ; if God had but set thee thus 
 at his bar, and pleaded his own cause vdth thee, which thou 
 hast here so maliciously pleaded agauist ! How easily can 
 he, at any time, say to thy guilty soul, Come away, and Uve 
 in that flesh no longer, till the resurrection, and it cannot 
 resist ! A word of his mouth would take ofl" the noise of 
 thy present life, and then all tiny parts and powers would 
 stand still ; and if he say unto thee. Live no longer, or, Live 
 in hell, thou couldst not disobey. 
 
 But God hatli yet done no;K' of this ; but hath patiently
 
 A CALL TO THE UXCONVEKTED. 105 
 
 forborne thee, and niercifully upliold thee, and given thee 
 that breath which tliou didst breathe out against him, and 
 given those mercies which thou didst sacrifice to the flesh, 
 and afforded thee that provision which thou spentest to 
 satisf}- thy greedy tliroat : he gave thee every minute of that 
 time Avliich thou didst ivaste m idleness, and drunkenness, or 
 worldUuess. And doth not all his patience and mercy sliew 
 that he desired not thy damnation V Can the lamp burn 
 without the oil? Can your houses stand without the earth 
 to bear them ? As well as you can Uve one hour Avithout 
 the support of God. And why did he so long support thy 
 life, but to see when thou wouldst bethink thee of the folly 
 of thy ways, and return and live ? VvUl anj' man purposely 
 put arms into his enemy's liands to resist him ? Or hold a 
 candle to a murderer that is killing his children ? or to an 
 idle servant tliat plays and sleeps the while ? Sm-ely it is 
 to see whether thou wilt at last return and live, that God 
 has so long waited on thee. 
 
 5. It is further proved by the sufferings of his Son that 
 God taketh no pleasure in the death of the wicked. Would 
 he have ransomed them from death at so dear a rate ? Would 
 he have astonished angels and men by his condescension ? 
 Would God have dwelt in flesh, and have come m the form 
 of a servant, and have assumed humanity into one person 
 with the Godhead ? And would Christ have lived a life of 
 suffering, and died a cursed death for smners, if he had 
 rather taken pleasure in thcii* death ? Suppose you saw him 
 but so busy in preaching and healing of them, as you fmd 
 him in Mark iii. 21 ; or so long in fastmg, as in Matt. iv. ; 
 or all night in prayer, as m Luke vi. 12 ; or pra}ing with 
 drops of blood triclcling from him instead of sweat, as Lulce 
 xxii. 4:4: ; or suffering a cursed death upon the cross, and 
 poming out his soul as a sacrifice for our sins ; would you 
 have thought these the signs of one that delighteth in the 
 death of the wicked ? 
 
 And think not to extenuate it by sajing, that it was only 
 for liis elect. For it was thy sin, and the sin of all the 
 world, that lay upon our Redeem.er ; and his sacrifice and
 
 106 A CALL TO THE XINCONVERTED. 
 
 satisfaction is sufficient for all, and the fruits of it are offered 
 to one as well as another ; but it is true that it was never 
 the intent of his mind, to pardon and saA^e any that would 
 not by faith and repentance be converted. If you had seen 
 and heard him weeping and bemoaning the state of disobe- 
 dience in impenitent people, Lulce xix. 41, 42, or complain- 
 ing of their stubbornness, as Matt, xxiii. 37, " O Jerusa- 
 lem, Jerusalem, how often would I have gathered thy chil- 
 dren together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her 
 wings, and ye would not ! " Or if you had seen and heard 
 him on the cross, prajing for his persecutors, " Father, for- 
 give them, for they know not what they do ; " would you 
 have suspected that he had delighted in the death of Jhe 
 wicked, even of those that perish by their wilfid unbelief? 
 When " God hath so loved" (not only loved, but so loved 
 " the world as to give his only begotten Son, that whoso- 
 ever believeth in him" (by an effectual faith) " should not 
 perish, but have everlasting life," I think he hath hereby 
 proved, against the malice of men and devils, that he takes 
 no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but had rather that 
 they would turn and live. 
 
 6. Lastly, If all tliis will not yet satisfy you, take his own 
 word, that knoweth best his own mind ; or at least believe 
 his oath. But this leadeth me up to the fourth doctrine. 
 
 Doct. IV. The Lord hath confirmed it to us by liis oath, 
 that he hath no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but 
 rather that he turn and live ; that he may leave man no 
 pretence to question the truth of it. 
 
 If you dare question his word, I hope you dare not ques- 
 tion his oath. As Christ hath solemnly protested, that the 
 unregenerate and unconvertt;d cannot enter into the king- 
 dom of heaven, in Matt, xviii. 3 ; John iii. 3 ; so God hath 
 sworn, that his pleasure is not in their death, but in their 
 conversion and life. And as the apostle saith, Heb. vi. 13, 
 16-18, " Because he can swear by no gi'eater than himself, 
 he saith. As I live, &c. For men veiily swear by the greater, 
 and an oath for confu-mation is to them an end of all strife. 
 Wherein God, willing more abmidantly to shew mito the
 
 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 107 
 
 heirs of promise the immutability of his counsel, confirmed 
 it by an oath : that by two immutable thmgs, in v/hich it 
 was impossible for God to lie, we might have a strong con- 
 solation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold on the hope 
 set before us ; which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, 
 both sure and steadfast." If there be any man that cannot 
 reconcile this truth with the doctrine of predestmation, or 
 the actual damnation of the wicked, that is his own igno- 
 rance ; he hath no pretence left to deny or question there- 
 fore the truth of the point in hand ; for this is confirmed by 
 the oath of God, and therefore must not be distorted, to re- 
 duce it to other points ; but doubtful points must rather be 
 reduced to it, and certain truths must be beheved to agree 
 with it, though our shallow brams do hardly discern the 
 agreement. 
 
 Use. I do entreat thee, if thou be an unconverted sinner 
 that hearest these words, that thou wouldst ponder a little 
 upon the forementioned doctrines, and bethink thyself awhile, 
 ■who it is that takes pleasure in thy sm and damnation. 
 Certainly it is not God. He hath sworn for his part, that 
 he takes no pleasure in it. And I know it is not the pleas- 
 ing of him that you mtend in it. You dare not say that 
 you chink and swear, and neglect holy duties, and quench 
 the motions of the Spirit, to please God. That were as if 
 you should reproach the prince, and break his laws, and seek 
 his death, and say, you did all this to please him. 
 
 Who is it then that takes pleasure in your sin and death ? 
 Not any that bear the image of God, for they must be like- 
 minded to him. God knows, it is small pleasure to your 
 fiiithful teachers, to see you serve your deadly enemy, and 
 madly venture your eternal state, and wilfully run into the 
 flames of hell. It is small pleasure to them, to see upon 
 yom- soiJs (in the sad effects) such blindness, and hard- 
 heartedness, and carelessness, and presumption ; such -wil- 
 fulness in e\'il, and such uncharitableness, and stiffiiess against 
 the ways of hfe and peace : they know these are marks of 
 death, and of the -v\Tath of God, and they know, fi-om the 
 word of God, what is like to be the end of them ; and there-
 
 108 A CALL TO THE UXCO^•^'ERTED. 
 
 fore it is no more pleasure to tliem, than to a tender physi- 
 oiiin to see the plague-marks break out upon his patient. 
 Alas ! to foresee your everlasting torments, and know not 
 how to prevent them ! To see how near you are to hell, 
 find we cannot make you believe it, and consider it ! To see 
 how easily, how certainly j'ou might escape, if we knew but 
 how to make you -willing ! How fan- you are for everlasting 
 salvation, ii" you would but turn and do your best, and make 
 it tho care and busuiess of your lives ! But you will not do 
 it ; if our lives lay on it, we cannot persuade you to do it. 
 "We study day and night what to say to you, that may con- 
 vince you, and persuade )'ou, and yet it is undone : we la}' 
 before you the word of God, and shew j'ou the very chapter 
 and verse where it is wintten, that you cannot be saved ex- 
 cept you be converted ; and yet we leave the most of you 
 as we find you : we hope you will believe the word of God, 
 though you believe not us, and that you -will regard it when 
 Ave shew you plain Sci-i})ture for it ; but we hope in vain, 
 ;ii;d labour in vain, as to an}- saAing change upon your hearts. 
 And do you think that this is a pleasant thing to us ? Many 
 a time in secret prayers we are lain to complain to God with 
 sad hearts, Alas, Lord, we have spoken it to them, in thy 
 name, but they little regard vis ; we have told them what 
 thou bidst us tell them, concerning the danger of an uncon- 
 verted state, but they do not believe us ; we have told them 
 tluit thou hast protested, " That thei'e is no peace to the 
 wicked," Isa. xhdii. 22 ; Ivii. 21 ; but the worst of them 
 all will scarcely believe that they are wicked : we have shewed 
 tliera the word, where thou hast said, '■'• That if they live 
 after the flesh they shall die," Horn. viii. 13 ; but they say, 
 they wUl bcHeve in thee, when they will not believe thee 5 
 and that they will trust in thee, when the}' give no credit to 
 thy word ; and when they hope that the threatenings of thy 
 word are false, they will yet call this a hoping in God ; and 
 tliough we shew them where thou hast said, " That when a 
 Ancked man dieth, all his hopes perish," Prov. xi. 7, yet can- 
 not we persuade them fi'om their deceitful hopes. We tell 
 them what a base, unprofitable thing sin is, but they love it,
 
 A CAXX TO THE UXCONVEKTEO. 109 
 
 and therefore ■will not leaA'e it. Y\'e tell them how dear tliey 
 buy their pleasure, and what they must pay for it in ever- 
 lasting torment, and they bless themselves and -wall not believe 
 it, but will do as the most do ; and because God is merciful, 
 they will not beUeve him, but will A'enture their souls, come on 
 it what will. AVe tell them how ready the Lord is to receive 
 them ; and this does but make them delay their repentance, 
 and be bolder in their sin. Some of them say, they puii^ose 
 to repent, but they are still the same ; and some say, they do 
 repent already, while yet they are not converted from theii" 
 sins. We exhort them, we entreat them, we offer them our 
 help, but we cannot prevail with them, but they that were 
 di'unkards are drunkards still ; and they that were voluptu- 
 ous, flesh-pleasing Avretches, are such still ; and they that 
 were woiddlings are worldlings still ; and they that were 
 ignorant, proud, and self-conceited, are so still. Few of 
 them will see and confess then' sin, and fewer will forsake 
 it, but comfort themselves that all men are smners ; as if 
 there were no difference between a converted sinner and an 
 unconverted. Some of them will not come near us when 
 we are wiUing to instruct them, but think they know enough 
 ah'eady, and need not our instruction ; and some of them 
 will give us the heaiing, and do what they Hst ; and most 
 of them are like dead men that cannot feel ; so that when 
 w^e tell them of the matters of everlasting consequence, we 
 cannot get a word of it to their hearts. If we do not obey 
 them, and humour them in baptizing children of the most 
 obstinately wicked, and giving them the Lord's supper, and 
 doing all that they would have us, though never so much 
 agamst the word of God, they wiU hate us, and rail at us ; 
 but if we beseech them to confess and forsake their sins, and 
 save then- souls, they will not do it. We tell them, if they 
 will but tm-n, we will deny them none of the orduiances of 
 God, neither baptism to their children, nor the Lord's sup- 
 per to themselves ; but they will not hear us : they would 
 have us to disobey God, damn our souls to please them, and 
 yet they will not turn, and save their own souls to please 
 God. They are wiser in theu- own eyes than all theii-
 
 110 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 
 
 teachers ; they rage, and are confident in their own way ; 
 and if we would never so fain, we cannot change them. 
 Lord, this is the case of our miserable neighbours, and we 
 cannot help it ; we see them ready to di'op into heU, and 
 we cannot help it : we know if they would unfeignedly turn, 
 they might be saved ; but we cannot persuade them : if we 
 would beg it of them on our knees, we cannot persuade them 
 to it ; if we would beg it of them with tears, we cannot per- 
 suade them : and what more can we do ? 
 
 These are the secret complaints and moans that many a 
 poor minister is fain to make; and do you think that he. 
 hath any pleasure in tliis ? Is it a pleasure to him to see 
 you go on in sui and cannot stop you ? to see you so 
 miserable, and cannot so much as make you sensible of it ? 
 to see you merry, when you are not sure to be an hour out 
 of heU ? to think what you must for ever suffer because you 
 ■will not turn ? and to think what an everlastmg life of 
 glory you wHfuUy despise and cast away ? What sadder 
 things can you bring to then" hearts, and how can you devise 
 to grieve them more ? 
 
 Who is it then that you pleasure by your sin and death ? 
 It is none of your understanding, godly fi'iends. Alas, it is 
 the grief of their souls to see your misery, and they lament 
 you many a tune, when you give them little thanks for it, 
 and when you have not hearts to lament yourselves. 
 
 A^Tio is it then that takes pleasure in your sin ? It is 
 none but the three great enemies of God, whom you re- 
 nounced in your baptism, and now are tm-ned falsely to 
 serve. 
 
 1. The de^il, indeed, takes pleasure in your sin and 
 death ; for this is the very end of all his temptations : for 
 this he watches night and day : you cannot devise to please 
 him better, than to go on in sin. How glad is he when he 
 sees thee going to the alehouse, or other sin ; and when he 
 heareth thee curse, or swear, or rail ! How glad is he when 
 he heareth thee revile the nunister that Avould draw thee 
 from thy sin, and help to save thee ! These are his de- 
 U"ht.
 
 A CAXL TO THE UNCONVERTED. Ill 
 
 2. The -wicked are also delighted ia it, for it is agreeable 
 to their nature. 
 
 3. But I know, for all this, that it is not the pleasing of 
 the de-iil that you intend, even when you please him ; 
 but it is your own flesh, the greatest and most dangerous 
 enemy, that you intend to please. It is the flesh that would 
 be pampered, that would be pleased in meat, and drink, and 
 clothing, that would be pleased in your company, and 
 pleased in applause and credit with the world, and pleased 
 in sports, and lusts, and idleness ; this is the gulf that de- 
 vom-eth all. This is the very god that you serve ; for the 
 Scripture saith of such, " that their bellies are their god," 
 Phil. iii. 18. 
 
 But I beseech you stay a little and consider the business. 
 
 1. Quest. Should your flesh be pleased before your 
 Maker ? Will you displease the Lord, and displease your 
 teacher, and yom* godly friends, and all to please your brut- 
 ish appetites, or sensual desires ? Is not God worthy to be 
 a ruler of your flesh ? if he shall not rule it, he will not 
 save it ; you cannot in reason expect that he should. 
 
 2. Quest. Your flesh is pleased with your sin ; but is 
 your conscience pleased ? Doth not it grudge -vvithin you, 
 and tell you sometimes that aU is not well, and that your 
 case is not so safe as you make it to be ? And should not 
 your souls and consciences be pleased before that corrup- 
 tible flesh ? 
 
 3. Quest. But is not your flesh preparing for its own dis- 
 pleasure also ? It loves the bait, but doth it love the hook ? 
 It loves the strong drink and sweet morsels ; it loves its 
 ease, and sport, and merriment ; it loves to be rich, and well 
 spoken of by men, and to be somebody in the world ; but 
 doth it love the cm-se of God? Doth it love to stand 
 trembling before his bar, and to be judged to everlasting 
 fire ? Doth it love to be tormented with the derils for 
 ever ? Take all together ; for there is no separating sin 
 and hell, but only by faith and true conversion ; if }'ou ^vill 
 keep one, you must have the other. If death and hell be 
 pleasant to thee, no wonder then if thou go on in sm ; but
 
 112 A CVa.L TO TKE UXCONVEUTED. 
 
 if they be not (as I am sure they be not), then what if sin be 
 never so pleasant, is it worth tlie loss of life eternal? Is a 
 little di'ink, meat, ease, the good word of sinners, or the 
 riches of this world, to be valued above the joys of heaven ? 
 or are they worth the sufferings of eternal fire? Sirs, 
 these questions should be considered, before you go any 
 farther, by every man that hath reason to consider, and 
 that believes he hath a soul to save or lose. 
 
 Well, the Lord here sweareth that he hath no pleasure 
 in yoiu' death, but rather that you would turn and live : if 
 yet you vnll go on and die, rather than turn, remember it 
 was not to please God that you did it, it was to please the 
 world, and to please yourseh'cs. And if men will damn 
 themselves to please themselves, and run into endless tor- 
 ments for delight, and have not the wit, the heart, the gi'ace 
 to hearken to God or man that would reclaim them, what 
 remedy ? But they must take what they get by it, and re- 
 pent in another manner, when it is too late. Before I pro- 
 ceed any farther in the application, I shall come to the next 
 doctrine ; which giveth a fuller ground for it. 
 
 Doct. Y. So earnest is God for the conversion of sinners, 
 that he doubleth his commands and exhortations with vehe- 
 mency ; " Turn ye, turn ye, wliy will ye die?" 
 
 This doctiine is the application of the fonner, as by a use 
 of exhortation, and accordingly I shall handle it. Is there 
 ever an unconverted smner, that heareth these vehement 
 words of God ? Is there ever a man or woman in this as- 
 sembly, that is yet a stranger to the renewing, sanctifying 
 works of the Holy Ghost ? (It Is a happy assembly if it be 
 not so with the most). Hearken then to the voice of your 
 Maker, and turn to him by Christ -without delay. Would 
 you know the will of God ? Why this is his wUl, that you 
 presently turn. Shall the living God send so earnest a mes- 
 sage to his creatiu'cs, and should they not obey ? Hearken 
 then, all you tl^at live after the flesh ; the Lord that gave 
 thee thy breath and being, hnth sent a message to thee from 
 heaven, and this is his message, " Turn ye, turn ye, why 
 will ye die ? " " He that hath ears to hear, let lum hear."
 
 A CALL TO THE TINCOm'ERTED. 113 
 
 Sliall the voice of the Eternal Majesty be neglected ? If he 
 do but terribly thunder, thou art afraid ; O but tliis voice 
 doth more nearly concern thee : if he do but tell thee thou 
 shalt die to-morrow, thou wouldst not make hght of it ; O 
 but this word concerneth thy life or death everlasting ! It 
 is both a command and an exhortation : as if he said to 
 thee, I charge thee upon the allegiance thou owest to me thy 
 Creator and Redeemer, that thou renounce the flesh, the 
 world, and the devil, and turn to me that thou mayest live. 
 I condescend to entreat thee, as thou lovest or fearest liim 
 that made thee, as thou lovest thine own life, even thine 
 everlasting life, turn and live ; as ever thou wouldst escape 
 eternal misery, turn, turn, " for why wilt thou die ? " And 
 is there a heart in man, in a reasonable creature, that can 
 once refuse such a message, such a command, such an ex- 
 hortation as this ? Oh what a tiling then is the heart of 
 man! 
 
 Hearken then, all that love yourselves, and all that re- 
 gard your own salvation. Here is the most joj-fld message 
 that ever was sent to the ears of man, " Turn ye, turn ye, 
 why will ye die ? " You are not yet shut up under despera- 
 tion. Here is mercy offered you ; turn and you shall have 
 it. O sirs, -with what glad and joyful hearts should you 
 receive these tidings ! I biow that tliis is not the first tune 
 that you have heard it : but how have j'ou regarded it, or how 
 do }-ou regard it now ? Hear, all you ignorant, careless sin- 
 ners, the word of the Lord ! Hear, all you worldlings, you 
 sensual flesh-pleasers, you gluttoas and di-unkards, and 
 whoremongers and swearers, you railers and backbiters, 
 slanderers and liars ; " Turn ye, turn ye, whv wiU ye 
 die?" 
 
 Hear, all you cold and outside professors, and all that 
 are strangers to the Ufe of Christ, and never knev/ the power 
 of his cross and resurrection, and never felt your hearts 
 warmed with his love, and Hve not on him as the strength 
 of your souls ; " Turn ye, turn ye, why will ye die ? " 
 
 Hear, all that arc void of the love of God, whose hearts 
 are not towards hhn, nor taken up Avith the ho]ies of glory, 
 
 H
 
 Hi A C-\-LL TO THE U^CONVtKTED. 
 
 but set more by yoiu- eartlily prosperity and dcL'gbts, tban 
 by the joys of lieaven ; you that are religious but :i little on 
 the b}e, and give God no more than your flesh can spare ; 
 that have not denied your carnal selves, and forsaken all 
 that you have for Chi-ist, in the estimation and gi'ounded 
 resolution of your souls ; but have some one thing in the 
 world so dear to you, that }-ou cannot spare it for Christ, if" 
 he requires it, but yvill rather even veutm'e on his displea- 
 i^ure, than forsake it ; '• Tuni ye, turn ye, why will ye 
 tlie ? " 
 
 If you never heard it or observed it before, remember 
 that ye v.ere told it from the word of God thi> day, that it" 
 you %vili but turn, you may live ; and if you will not tm'n, 
 you shall surely die. 
 
 What now will you do, sh's ? '\Miat is your resolution ? 
 Will you tm*n, or will you not ? Halt not any longer be- 
 tween two opinions : if the Lord be God, follow him ; if your 
 flesh be God, then serve it still. If heaven be better than 
 earth and fleshly pleasures, come away then and seek a 
 better country, and lay up your ti'easure where rust and 
 moths do not corrupt, and thieves cannot break through 
 and steal, and be awakened at last with all your miglit to 
 seek the kingdom that cannot be moved, Heb. xil. 28 ; and 
 to employ yom' lives on a higher design, and turn the stream 
 of your cai'es and labom's another way than formerly you 
 have done : but if earth be better than heaven, or will do more 
 for you, or last you longer, then keep it and make your best 
 of it, and follow it stUl. Su-s, are you resolved what to 
 do ? If you be not, I will set a few more mo^■ing considera- 
 tions before you, to see if reason -will make you resolve. 
 
 Consider, fu'st, what preparations mercy hath made for 
 your salvation ; and what pity it is that any man should be 
 damned after all this. The time was, when the flaming 
 sword was in the way, and the curse of God's law would 
 have kept thee back, if thou hadst been never so willing to 
 turn to God : the time was, when thyself, and all the friends 
 that thou hadst in the world, could never have procured 
 thee the pardon of thy sins past, though thou hadst never
 
 A CALL TO THE U^■COXVERTED. 115 
 
 i-:o nmcli lamented, and reformed tliem. But Clirist hath 
 removed this impediment by the ransom of his blood. The 
 time was, that God was wholly unreconciled, as being not 
 satisfied for the violation of his law ; but now he is so far 
 satisfied and reconciled, as that he hath made thee a fi'ee 
 act of obli%ion, and a fi'ee deed of the gift of Christ and 
 life, and ofiereth it to thee, and entreateth thee to accept 
 it, and it may be thine if thou wit. For, " lie was in ChrLst 
 reconciling the world unto himself, and hath committed to 
 us the word of actual reconciliation," 2 Cor. v. 18, 19. 
 Sinners, we are commanded to do this message to you all, 
 as fi"om the Lord. " Come, for all things are ready," 
 Luke xiv. 17. Are all things ready, and are you luiready? 
 God is ready to entertain you and pardon all that you have 
 done against him, if you will but come. As long as you 
 have sinned, as wilfully as you have sinned, as heinously as 
 you have sinned, he is ready to cast all behind his back, if 
 you will but come. Tliough you have been prodigals, and 
 run away from God, and have staid so long, he is ready 
 even to meet you, and embrace you in his arms, and rejoice 
 in your conversion, if you will but turn. Even the earthly 
 worldling and swinish drunkard may imd God ready to bid 
 hun welcome, if they will but come. Doth not this turn 
 thy heart within thee ? O sinner, if thou hast a heart of 
 flesh, and not of stone in thee, methuiks this should melt it. 
 Shall the dreadful infinite Majesty of heaven, even wait for 
 thy returning, and be ready to receive thee who hast abused 
 him, and forgotten liim so long ? shall he delight in thy con- 
 version, that might at any time glorify liis justice in thy 
 damnation ? and doth it not yet melt th}- heart within thee, 
 avA art thou not yet ready to come in ? Hast thou not as 
 much reason to be ready to come, as God hath to in^•ite 
 thee and bid thee welcome ? 
 
 But that is not all ; Christ hath done his part on the 
 cross, and made such a way for thee to the Father, that on 
 bis account thou mayest be welcome, if thou wilt come ; and 
 yet ait thou not ready?
 
 116 A CALL TO THE UNCO]Sr\T.RTED. 
 
 A pardon is already expressly granted, and offered thee 
 in the gospel ; and yet art thou not ready ? 
 
 The ministers of the gospel are ready to assist thee, to in- 
 struct thee, and pronounce the absohing words of peace to 
 thy soul ; they are ready to pray for thee, and to seal up 
 thy pardon by the administration of the holy sacrament ; 
 and yet art thou not ready ? 
 
 All that fear God about thee, are ready to rejoice ia thy 
 conversion, and to receive thee uito the communion of saints, 
 and to give thee the right hand of fellowsliip, yea, though 
 thou hadst been one that had been cast out of their society : 
 they dare not but forgive where God forgiveth, when it is 
 manifest to them by thy confession and amendment ; they 
 dare not so much as hit thee in the teeth Avith thy former 
 sins, because they know that God will not upbraid thee with 
 them. If thou hadst been never so scandalous, if thou 
 wouldst but heartily be converted and come in, they would 
 not refuse thee, let the world say what they would against 
 it. And are aU these ready to receive thee, and yet art 
 thou not ready to come in ? 
 
 Yea, heaven itself is ready ; the Lord will receive thee 
 into the glory of the saints, as vile a beast as thou hast 
 been, if thou wilt but be cleansed thou mayst have a place 
 before his throne ; his angels will be ready to guard thy 
 soul to the place of joy, if thou do but unfeignedly come in. 
 And is God ready, the sacrifice of Christ ready, the promise 
 ready, and pardon ready ; are ministers ready, the people 
 of God ready, and heaven itself ready, and angels ready, 
 and all these but waiting for thy conversion, and yet art 
 thou not ready ? "WTiat ! not ready to live, when thou 
 hast been dead so long ? not ready to come to thy right 
 imderstanding (as the prodigal is said to come to himself, 
 Luke XV. 17), when thou hast been beside thyself so long? 
 not ready to be saved, when thou art even ready to be con- 
 demned? Art thou not ready to lay hold on Christ that 
 would deliver thee, when thou art even ready to drown, 
 and sink into damnation ? Art thou not ready to be saved 
 fi'om heU, when thou art even ready to be cast remediless
 
 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 117 
 
 into it ; alas ! man, dost thou know what thou dost ? K thou 
 die unconverted, there is no doubt to be made of thy dam- 
 nation : and thou art not sure to live an hom- ; and yet art 
 thou not ready to turn, and to come in? O miserable 
 wretch ! hast thou not served the flesh and the devil long 
 enough ? Yet hast thou not enough of sin ? Is it so good 
 to thee, or so profitable for thee ? Dost thou know what it 
 is, that thou wouldst yet have more of it ? Hast thou had 
 so many calls, and so many mercies, and so many blows, 
 and so many examples, hast thou seen so many laid in the 
 grave, and yet art thou not ready to let go thy sins, and come 
 to Christ ? What ! after so many convictions, and gripes of 
 conscience, after so many puiposes and promises, art thou 
 not yet ready to turn and live? Oh that thy eyes, thy 
 heart were opened, to know how fair an ofier is now made 
 to thee ! and what a jo}'ful message it is that we are sent 
 on, to bid thee come, for all thuigs are ready ! 
 
 2. Consider, also, what calls thou hast to turn and live ; 
 how many, how loud, how earnest, how dreadful, and yet 
 what encouraging, joj'ful calls. 
 
 For the prmcipal Inviter, it is God liimself. He that 
 commandeth heaven and earth, commandeth thee to turn; 
 and presently, without delay, to turn. He commandeth the 
 sun to run its course, and to rise upon thee every morning ; 
 and though it be so glorious a creature, and many times 
 bigger than all the earth, yet it obeyeth him, and faileth not 
 one minute of its appointed time. He commandeth all the 
 planets and orbs of heaven, and they obey. He com- 
 mandeth the sea to ebb and flow, and the whole creation 
 to keep its com'se, and all they obey him. The angels of 
 heaven obey his ^vUl, when he sends them to minister to 
 such silly worms as we on earth, Heb. i. 14. And yet if 
 he command but a sinner to turn, he mil not obe_\' Iiim : 
 he only thinks liimself vnser than God, and he cavils and 
 pleads the cause of sin, and mil not obey. If the Lord 
 Almighty says the word, the heavens and all therein obey 
 him ; but if he call a drunkard out of an ale-house he ^vill 
 not obey ; or if he call a worldly, fleshly sinner to deny
 
 118 A CALL TO THE UNCOJTV'ERTED. 
 
 hiinst'lf, and mortify the flesh, and set his heart on a better 
 inheritance, he will not obey. 
 
 If thou hadst any love in thee, thou wouldst know the 
 voice, and say, O this is my Father's call ! How can I find 
 in my heart to disobey? For the sheep of Christ do " kno-w 
 and hear his voice ; and they follow him, and he giveth 
 them eternal life," John xii. 4. If thou hast any spiritual 
 life and sense in thee, at least thou wouldst say, This call is 
 the dreadful voice of God, and who dare disobey ? For 
 saith the prophet, " The lion hath roared, who will not 
 fear?" Amos iii. 8. God is not a man that thou shouldst 
 dall}- and play with him. Remember Avhat he said to Paul 
 at liis conversion, " It is hard for thee to lack against the 
 ]3ricks," Acts ix. 5. "Wilt thou }-et go on and despise his 
 Avord, and resist his Spirit, and stop thine ears against his 
 call ? "\\1io is it that will have the Avorst of this ? Dost thou 
 know whom thou disobeyest and contendest with, and what 
 thou art doing ? It were a fur wiser and easier task for thee 
 to contend with the thorns, and spurn them with thy bare 
 feet, and beat them with thy bai-e hands, or put thy head 
 into the burning fire. " Be not deceived, God will not be 
 mocked," Gal. vi. 7. Whosoever else maybe mocked, God 
 will not ; you had better play with the fire in yom- thatch, 
 than with the fire of his burning wrath in your soul. " For 
 our God is a. consuming fire," Heb. xii. 29. Oh how unmeet 
 a match art thou for God ! "It is a fearful thing to fall 
 into his hands," Heb. x. 31 ; and therefore it is a fearful 
 thing to contend with him, or resist him. As you love your 
 OA\-n souls, take heed what you do. "WHiat wlU you say if 
 he begin in Avi'ath to plead yviih you? What Avill you 
 do if he take you once in hand? Will you then strive 
 against his judgment, as now you do against his gi-ace? 
 Saith the Lord, " Fury is not in me ;" that is, I delight 
 not to destroy, I do it as it were unwillingly : but yet, 
 *' ^Vho would set the briers and thorns against me in 
 battle? I would go through them, I would burn them to- 
 gether. Or let him take liold of my strength, that he may 
 make peace with me, and he shall make peace ^^nt\i me,"
 
 A CALL TO THE UNCOXVERTED. 119 
 
 Tsa. xxvii. 4, 6. It is an unequal combat for the briers 
 and stubble to make war with tlie fire. 
 
 And thus j^ou see who it is that calleth you, that should 
 move you to hear this call, and turn : so consider also, by what 
 instruments, and how often, and how earnestly he doth it. 
 
 1. Everj- leaf of the blessed book of God hath, as it were, 
 a voice, and calls out unto thee, " Turn and live, turn or 
 thou wilt die." How canst thou open it, and read a leaf, 
 or hear a cluipter, and not perceive God bids thee turn V 
 
 2. It is the voice of every sermon thou hearest ; foi 
 what else is the scope and drift of all, but to call, and per- 
 suade, and entreat thee to turn ? 
 
 3. It is the voice of many a motion of the Spirit, that 
 secretlj- speaks over these words again, and nrgeth thee to 
 turn. 
 
 4. It is likely sometimes it is the voice of thy ovn\ con- 
 science. Art thou not sometimes convinced, that all is not 
 well with thee ; and doth not thy conscience tell thee, that 
 thou must be a new man, and take a new course, and often 
 call upon thee to return ? 
 
 5. It is the voice of the gracious examples of the godly. 
 "VVlien thou scest tliem hve a heavenlj- life, and H}- from the 
 sin which is thy delight, this really calls upon thee to tiu-n. 
 
 6. It is the voice of all the works of God. For they also 
 are God's books that teach thee this lesson, by shewing thee 
 his greatness, and -vrisdom, and goodness, and calling thee 
 to observe them, and admire the Creator. " The heavens 
 declare the glory of God, and the firmament sheweth his 
 handy work ; daj- unto day uttereth speech, and night unto 
 night shcwotli knowledge," Psal. xix. 1, 2. Every time the 
 sun riseth upon thee, it really calleth thee to turn ; as if it 
 should say, "What do I travel and compass the world for, 
 but to declare to men the glory of their INIaker, and to light 
 them to do his work ? And do I still find thee doing the 
 work of sin, and sleeping out thy life in negligence? " Awake, 
 thou that sloepcst, and arise fi:om the dead, and Christ shall 
 give thee light," Eph. v. 14. "The night is far spent, the 
 day is at hand. It is now high time to awake out of sleep.
 
 120 A CALL TO THE XrXCOX\':ERTED. 
 
 Let us, therefore, cast off the works of darkness, and let us 
 put on the armour of light. Let us walk honestly, as m the 
 day ; not in riotmg and drunkenness, not in chambering and 
 wantonness, not in strife and envjing ; but put ye on the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to 
 fiilfil the lusts thereof," Rom. xiii. 11-14. (This text was the 
 means of Augustine's conversion. I pray God it maybe yours.) 
 7. It is the voice of every mercy thou dost possess. If 
 thou couldst but hear and understand them, they aU cry out 
 unto thee. Turn. Why doth the earth bear thee, but to 
 seek and serve the Lord ? Why doth it aflford thee fi-uit, 
 but to serve him ? Why doth the aii- afford thee breath, 
 but to sei-ve him? ^Vhy do all the creatm-es sei-ve thee 
 ynih theii' labours, and their lives, but that thou mightest 
 serve the Lord of them and thee ? Why doth he give thee 
 time, and health, and strength, but to serve liim? "Why 
 hast thou meat, (biiik, and clothes, but for his service? 
 Hast thou any thing which thou hast not received ? And if 
 thou didst receive them, it is reason thou shouldst betliink 
 thee fi'om whom, and to what end and use, thou didst re- 
 ceive them. Didst thou never cry to him for help m thy 
 distress ? And didst thou not then understand that it was 
 thy part to turn and serve him if he would deliver thee ? 
 He hath done his part, and spared thee yet longer, and 
 tried thee another and another year, and yet thou dost not 
 turn. You know the parable of the unfi-uitfid fig-tree, 
 Luke xiii. 6-9. AVhen the Lord had said, " Cut it doivTi, 
 why cumbereth it the ground ? '' he was entreated to try it 
 one year longer, and then, if it proved not fruitful, to cut 
 it doAvn. Christ himself there makes the application twice 
 over, " Except ye repent, j'e shall all likewise perish," ver. 
 3,5. How many years hath God looked for the fi'uits of 
 love and hoUness from thee, and hath found none? and 
 yet hath spared thee. How many times, by thy wilful igno- 
 rance, carelessness, and disobedience, hast thou provoked 
 justice to say, " Cut hira do-\vn, why cumbereth he the 
 ground ? " and yet mercy hath j)revailed, and patience hath 
 forborne the killing, dauniing blow to tliis da^'. If thou
 
 A CALL TO THE L'XCOXVERTED. 121 
 
 hadst the understanding of a man witliin thee, thou wouldst 
 know that all this calleth thee to turn. " Dost thou think 
 thou shall still escape the judgment of God ? Or despisest 
 thou the riches of his goodjiess, forbearance, and long-suffer- 
 ing ; not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to 
 repentance ? But after thy hardness and impenitent heart, 
 treasm-est up unto thyself wrath against the day of wrath, 
 and revelation of the righteous judgment of God ; who will 
 render to every one according to his deeds," Rom. ii. 3-6. 
 
 8. Moreover, it is the voice of every affliction, to call 
 thee to make haste and turn. Sickness and pain cry, Turn. 
 Povert}-, the loss of fi'iends, and every twig of the chastising 
 rod, cry, Tm'n ; and yet wilt thou not hearken to the call ? 
 These have come near thee, and made thee feel. They 
 have made thee groan, and can they not make thee turn ? 
 
 9. The very fi-ame of thy nature and being itself be- 
 speaketh thy return. AVhy hast thou reason, but to rule 
 thy flesh, and serve thy Lord ? Why hast thou an under- 
 standing soul, but to learn and know his will, and do it? 
 Why hast thou a heart within thee that can love, fear, and 
 desire, but that thou shouldst feai- him, and love him, and 
 desii'e after him ? 
 
 10. Yea, thine own engagements by promise to the Lord 
 do call upon thee to turn and serve him. Thou ha^ bomid 
 thyself to him by a baptisuud covenant, and renounced the 
 world, the flesh, and the devil ; this thou hast confu-med 
 by the j)rofession of Christianity, and renewed it at sacra- 
 ments, and in times of allliction. And wilt thou promise, 
 and vow, and never perform, and turn to God ? 
 
 Lay all these together now, and see what should be the 
 issue. The holy Scriptures call upon thee to turn ; the 
 ministers of Christ do call upon thee to turn ; the Spirit 
 cries, Tm-n ; thy conscience cries, Tiu-n ; the godly, by per- 
 suasions and examples, cry, Turn ; the whole world, and all 
 the creatures thereui that are presented to thy consideration, 
 cry, Turn ; the patient forbearance of God cries, Tm-n ; all 
 the mercies which thou receivest cry. Turn ; the rod of 
 God's chastisement cries, Tui-n ; thy reason and the fi-ame
 
 122 A CAI.L TO TIIK TJXCON^'ERTED. 
 
 of thy nature bespeaks tliy turning ; and so do all thy pro- 
 mises to God : and yet art thou not resolved to turn ? 
 
 3. Moreover, poor hard-hearted sinner, didst thou ever 
 consider upon Avhat terms thou standest all this while v/ith 
 him that calleth thee to turn ? Thou art his OAvn, and owest 
 him thyself, and all thou hast ; and may he not command 
 his own ? Thou art his absolute servant, and shouldst serve 
 no other master. Thou standest at his mercy, and thy life 
 is in his hand ; and he is resolved to save thee upon no other 
 terms. Thou hast many malicious spiritual enemies, that 
 ■would be glad if God would but forsake thee, and let them 
 alone with thee, and leave thee to their will ; how quickly 
 would they deal with thee in another manner ! And thou 
 canst not be delivered fi-om them but by turning unto God. 
 Thou art fallen under his wrath by thy sin already; and thou 
 knoAvest not how long his patience vv-Ul j-et wait. Perhaps 
 this is the last year ; perhaps the last day. His sword is 
 even at thy heart, while the Avord is in thine ear ; and if thou 
 tm"n not, thou art a dead and undone man. Were thy eyes 
 but open to see where thou standest, even upon the brink of 
 hell, and to see how many thousands are there already that 
 did not tui'n, thou Avouldst see that it is time to look about 
 thee. 
 
 Well, sirs, look inwards now, and tell me how are your 
 hearts affected with these offers of the Lord. You hear 
 w'hat is his mind ; he delighteth not in yotu" death. He 
 calls to you. Turn, turn ; it is a fearful sign, if all this move 
 thee not, or if it do but half move thee ; and much more if 
 it make thee more careless in thy misery, because thou 
 hearest of the mercifulness of God. The working of the 
 medicine Avill partly tell us, whether there be any hope of 
 the cure. Oh what glad tidings would it be to those that are 
 now in hell, if they had but such a message from God ! 
 What a joj-ful word would it be to hear this, Turn and live ! 
 Yea, what a welcome word would it be to thyself, when 
 thou hast felt that wrath of God but an horn' ; or, if after 
 a thousand, and ten thousand years' torment, thou couldst 
 but hear such a word from God, Tiu-n and live ! and yet
 
 A CALL TO THE UXCOXVEKTED. 123 
 
 wilt thou neglect it, and suffer us to return witliout our er- 
 rand ? 
 
 Bebold, sinners, we are set here as the messengei's of the 
 Lord, to set before you life and death ; what say you, which 
 of them will you choose ? Christ standeth, as it Avere, by 
 thee, with heaven in one hand, and hell in the other, and 
 offereth thee thy choice ; Avhich wilt thou choose ? The 
 voice of the Lord niaketli the rocks to tremble. See Psal. 
 xxix. And is it nothing to hear him threaten thee, if thou 
 wilt not turn ? Dost thou not understand and feel this 
 voice, "Turn ye, turn ye, why will ye die?" ^Vliy, it is 
 the voice of love, of infinite love, of thy best and kindest 
 Friend, as thou mightest easily perceive by the motion, and 
 yet canst thou neglect it ? It is the voice of pity and com- 
 passion. The Lord seeth whether thou art going better 
 than thou dost, which makes him call after thee. Turn, turn. 
 He seeth Avhat will become of thee, if thon turn not : he 
 thinkcth -with hunself, Ah this poor sinner w-iU cast himself 
 into endless torment, if he do not turn ; I must in justice 
 deal with him according to mj- righteous law : and therefore 
 he calleth after thee. Turn, tiu'n. O sinner ! if thou didst 
 but know the thousandth part as well as God doth, the dan- 
 ger that is near yon, and the misery that you are running 
 into, we should have no more need to call aft,er you to 
 turn. 
 
 Moreover, this voice that calleth to thee, is the same 
 that hath prevailed with thousands already, and called all 
 to heaven that are now there ; and they would not now for 
 a thousand worlds that they had made Ught of it, and not 
 turned to God. Now what are they possessing that turned 
 at God's call? Now they perceive indeed that it was the 
 voice of love, that meant them no more harm than their 
 salvation, ibid if thou wilt obey the same call thou shalfc 
 come to the same happiness. There be millions that must 
 for ever lament that they turned not, but there is never a 
 soul in heaven that is soiTy that they were converted. 
 
 Well, sirs, are you yet resolved, or are you not ? Do 1 
 need to say any more to }'0U, what will }-ou do ? "Will you
 
 124 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 
 
 turn or not ? Speak, man, in thy heart to God, though thou 
 speak not out to me : speak, lest he take thy silence for a 
 denial ; speak quickly, lest he never make thee the Hke of- 
 fer more ; speak resolvedly, and not waveringly, for he 
 ■mil have no mdifferents to be his followers. Say in thy 
 heart now, without any more delay, even before you stir 
 hence. By the grace of God, I am resolved presently to 
 turn. And because I know mine own insufficiency, I am 
 resolved to wait on God for his grace, and foUow him in his 
 ways, and forsake my former com'ses and companions, and 
 give up myself to the guidance of the Lord. 
 
 Sirs, you are not shut up m the darkness of heathenism, 
 nor in the desperation of the damned. Life is before you, 
 and you may have it on reasonable terms if you wiU ; yea, 
 on free-cost if you will accept it. The way of God heth 
 plain before you, the chm'ch is open to you, and you may 
 have Christ, pardon, and holiness, if you wiU. What say 
 you ? Will you or will you not ? If you say nay, or say 
 nothing, and still go on, God is witness, and this congrega- 
 tion is witness, and your own consciences are witness, how 
 fair an offer you had this day. Remember you might have 
 Christ, and you would not. Remember, when you have 
 lost it, that you might have had eternal life, as well as 
 others, and would not : and all this because you would not 
 turn ! 
 
 But let us come to the next doctrine, and hear your 
 reasons. 
 
 Doct. VI. The Lord condescendeth to reason the case 
 with imconverted smners, and to ask them why they wiU 
 die. 
 
 A strange disputation it is, both as to the controversy, and 
 as to the disputants. 
 
 1 . The controversy or question propounded to dispute of, 
 is. Why wicked men wiU damn themselves ? or. Whether 
 they will die rather than tiu-n ? Whether they have any 
 sufficient reason for so doing ? 
 
 2. The disputants are God and man ; the most holy God, 
 and wicked, unconverted sinners.
 
 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 125 
 
 Is it not a strange tHng which God doth seem here to 
 suppose, that any man should be willing to die, and be 
 damned ; yea, that this should be the case of all the wicked ; 
 that is, of the greatest part of the world? But you Avill 
 say. This cannot be ; for nature desireth the preservation 
 and fehcity of itself, and the wicked are more selfish than 
 others, and not less ; and therefore how can any man be 
 willing to be damned ? 
 
 To which I answer, 1. It is a certain truth, that no man 
 can be willing of any evil, as evil, but only as it hath some 
 appearance of good ; much less can any man be Avillmg to 
 be eternally tormented. Misery, as such, is desired by none. 
 2. But yet for all that, it is most true, which God here 
 teacheth us, that the cause why the wicked die and are 
 damned, is, because they will die and be damned. And tliis 
 is true in several respects. 
 
 1 . Because they will go the way that leads to hell, though 
 they are told by God and man whither it goes and where 
 it ends ; and though God hath so often professed in his 
 word, that if they hold on in that way they shall be con- 
 demned ; and that they shall not be saved unless they turn. 
 " There is no peace (saith the Lord) unto the Avicked," 
 Isa. xlviii. 22 ; l\ii. 21. " The way of peace they know 
 not ; there is no judgment in their going ; they have made 
 them crooked paths, whosoever goeth therein shall not know 
 peace," Isa. lix. 8. They have the word and the oath of 
 the living God for it, that if they will not turn, they shall 
 not enter into his rest. And yet wicked they are, and 
 wicked they will be, let God and man say what they will ; 
 fleshly they are, and fleshly they will be, worldlings they 
 are, and worldlings they will be, though God hath told 
 them, that " the love of the world is enmity to God ; and 
 that if any man love the world (in that measure) the love 
 of the Father is not in him," James iv. 4 ; 1 John ii. 15. 
 So th.at ('onsequentiaUy these men are willing to be damned, 
 though not directly : they are willing of the way to hell, 
 and love the certain cause of their torment, though they be
 
 126 A CALL TO TUE UXCOA' VEKTi:i>. 
 
 not -willing of hell itself, and do not love tlie pain which they 
 must endure. 
 
 Is not this the truth of your case, sirs ? You would not 
 burn in hell, but you -will kindle the lire by your sins, and 
 cjist yourselves into it ; you would not be tormented with 
 devils in hell, but you will do that which vnll certainly pro- 
 cure it in desj)ite of all that can be said agauist it. It is 
 just as if you would say, I will drink poison, but yet I ■will 
 not die. I will cast myself headlong from the top of a 
 steeple, but yet I Avill not Idll myself. I will thrust my 
 knife into my heart, but yet I A\'ill not take away my life. 
 I will put this fu'c into the thatch of my house, but yet I 
 will not bm'n it. Just so it is with wicked men ; they Avill 
 be wicked, and live after the Hesh in the world, and yet 
 they would not be damned. But do you not know, that 
 the means do lead unto the end ? and that God hath by his 
 righteous law concluded, that je must repent or peiish ? He 
 that Villi take poison may as well say, I will kill myself, for 
 it will prove no better in the end : though perhaps he loved 
 it for the sweetness of the sugar that was mixed with it, and 
 would not be persuaded it was poison, but that he might 
 take it and do well enough ; but it is not his conceit and 
 confidence that Avill save his life. So if you wiU be di*unk- 
 ards, or fornicators, or worldlings, or live after the flesh, 
 you may as well say plainly, AV^e will be damned^ for so 
 you shall be unless you turn. Would you not rebuke the 
 folly of a thief or murderer that would say, I will steal or 
 kill, but I will not be hanged ; when he knows, that if he 
 do the one, the judge in justice will see that the other be 
 done. If he says, I will steal and murder, he may as well 
 say plidnly, I will be hanged ; so if you 'will go on in a car- 
 nal life, you may as well saj" plainly. We \vill go to hell. 
 
 2. Moreover, the wicked ^vill not use those means vi-ithout 
 which there is no hope of their salvation : he that vrill not 
 cat, may as well say plainly he will not live, unless he can 
 tell how to live without meat. He that will not go his 
 jo'arney, may as well say phiinly he vnR not come to the 
 
 1
 
 A CALL TO THE UXCOX\'EIlTKD. I'Jl 
 
 end. He that falls into tlie water, and avUI not come out, 
 nor suffer another to help him out, may as well say j)hiinlv 
 he will be disowned. So if you be cai'ual and uiigodlv, and 
 win not be converted, nor use the means by Avhich you 
 should be converted, but think it more ado than needs, you 
 may as well say plainly you will be damned. For if you 
 have found out a way to be saved without conversion, you 
 have done that which was never done before. 
 
 3. Yea, this is not all, but the wicked are univilling even 
 of salvation itself. Though they may desire somewhat which 
 they call b}- the name of heaven, yet heaven itself, con?ider- 
 ed in tlie true nature of the felicity, they desire not ; yea, 
 their hearts are quite against it. Heaven is a state of per- 
 fect holiness, and of continual love and praise to God, and 
 the wicked have no heart to tliis. The imperfect love, praise, 
 and holiness which is here to be obtained, they have no 
 mind of; much less of that which is so much gi'eater : the 
 joys of heaven are of so pure and spiritual a natm-e, that the 
 heart of the wicked cannot truly desire them. 
 
 So that by this time you may see on what ground it is 
 that God supposeth that the wicked are willing of their own 
 destruction : they will not turn, though they must turn or 
 liie. They vnll rather ventm-e on certain misery, than be 
 converted ; and then to quiet themselves m their sins, they 
 will make themselves believe that they shall nevertheless 
 escape. 
 
 2. And as the controversy is matter of wonder (that 
 ever men should be such enemies to themselves, as wilfulh- 
 to cast away their souls), so are the disputants too : that 
 God should stoop so low, as thus to plead the case Avith 
 man ; and that man should be so strangely blind and ob- 
 stinate as to need all this in so plain a case ; yea, and to re- 
 sist all this, when then* own salvation lieth upon the issue. 
 
 No wonder if they will not hear us that are men, when 
 they will not hear the Lord hunself : as God saith, when he 
 sent the prophet to tlie Israelites, " The house of Israel will 
 not hearken inito thee ; for they will not hearken unto me : 
 for all the house of Israel are impudent and hard-hearted,"
 
 128 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 
 
 Ezek. iii 7. No wonder if they can plead against a mi- 
 nister, or a godly neighbour, when they will plead against 
 the Lord himself, even against the plainest passages of his 
 word, and think they have reason on their side. When 
 they weary the Lord with their words, they say, " Wherein 
 have we wearied him?" Mai. ii. 7. The priests that de- 
 spised his name, durst ask, " Wherein have we despised thy 
 name ?" And when they " polluted his altar, and made the 
 tables of the Lord contemptible," they durst say, " "V^Hierein 
 have we pollutedthem?" Mai. vi. 1,7. But, " Woe unto him 
 (saith the Lord) that striveth with his Maker ! Let the pot- 
 sherds strive with the potsherds of the earth. Shall the 
 clay say to him that fashioneth it, A\Tiat makest thou ?" 
 Isa. xlv. 9. 
 
 Quest. But why is it that God will reason the case with 
 man ? 
 
 Ansiv. 1. Because that man, being a reasonable creature, 
 is accordingly to be dealt with ; and by reason to be per- 
 suaded and overcome. God hath therefore endowed them 
 with reason, that they might use it for him. One would 
 think a reasonable creature should not go against the clearest 
 and greatest reason in the world, when it is set before him. 
 
 2. At least men shall see that God did require nothing of 
 them that was unreasonable, but that whatever he com- 
 mandeth them, and whatever he forbiddeth them, he hath 
 aU the right reason in the world on his side, and they have 
 good reason to obey him, but none to disobey. And thus 
 even the damned shall be forced to justify God, and confess 
 that it was but reason that they should have turned to him ; 
 and they shall be forced to condemn themselves, and con- 
 fess that they have little reason to cast away themselves by 
 the neglecting of his grace in the day of their visitation. 
 
 Use. Look up your best and strongest reasons, sinners, 
 if you will make good your way : you see now -with whom 
 you have to deal. What sayest thou, unconverted, sensual 
 wretch ? Darest thou venture upon a dispute with God ? 
 Art thou able to confute him? Art thou ready to enter the 
 lists? God asketh th*^e. Why wilt thou die? Art thou
 
 A CALL TO THE UNCOXVERTBD. 129 
 
 furnistcd with a sufficient answer ? Wilt thou undertake 
 to prove that God is mistaken, and that thou art in 
 the right ? Oh what an undertaking is that ! ^Vhy either 
 lie or you is mistaken, when he is for your conversion, 
 and you are against it. He calls upon you to turn, 
 and you will not: he bids you do it presently, even to- 
 day, whUe it is called to-day, and you delay, and tliink it 
 time enough hereafter. He saith, it must be a total change, 
 and you must be holy and new creatures, and born again ; 
 and you think that less may serve the turn, and that it is 
 enough to patch up the old man, without becoming new. 
 Who is in the right now, God or you ? God calleth on 
 you to tiirn, and to live a holy life, and you wUl not ; by 
 your disobedient lives it appears you wUl not. If you will, 
 why do you not? W^iv have you not done it all this while? 
 And why do j'ou not fall upon it yet? Your wills have the 
 command of your lives. We may certainly conclude, that 
 }-ou are unwilling to turn, when you do not turn. And why 
 will you not? Can you give any reason for it, that is 
 worthy to be called a reason ? 
 
 I that am but a worm, your fellow-creatiu-e, of a shallow 
 capacity, dare challenge the wisest of you all to reason the 
 case with me, while I plead my Maker's cause ; and I need 
 not be discouraged, when I know I plead but the cause 
 that God pleadeth, and contend for him that ■will have 
 the best at last. Had I but these two general grounds 
 against you, I am sure that }ou have no good reason on 
 your side. 
 
 1. I am siu-e it can be no good reason, which is against 
 the God of truth and reason ; it cannot be light that is con- 
 trary to the sun. There is no knowledge in any creature, 
 but what it had from God ; and therefore none can be wiser 
 than God. It were damnable presumption for the highest 
 angel to compare with his Creator ; what is it then for a lump 
 of dirt, an ignorant sot, that knoweth not himself, nor his 
 own soul ; that knoweth but little of the things which he 
 seeth, yea, that is more ignorant than many of his neigh- 
 boui's ; to set himself against the wisdom of the Lord? It 
 
 I
 
 130 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 
 
 Is one of the fullest discoveries of the homblc -wickedness of 
 carnal men, and the stark madness of such who sin, that so 
 silly a mole dai-e contradict his Maker, and call in question 
 the word of God : yea, that those people in our paiishes, 
 that are so beastly ignorant, that they cannot give us a rea-. 
 sonable answer concernuig the verj- jirlnciples of religion, 
 are yet so ■vvise in their own conceit, that tliey dare ques- 
 tion the plainest truths of God, yea, contradict them, and 
 ca\T[l against them, when they can scarce speak sense, and 
 will believe them no farther than agreeth with their foolish 
 wisdom. 
 
 2. And as I know that God must needs be in the right, 
 so I know the case is so palpable and gross which he pleadeth 
 against, that no man can have reason for It. Is It possible 
 that a man can have any good reason to break his master's 
 laws, and reason to dishonour the Lord of gloiy, and reason 
 to abuse the Lord that bought liim ? Is it possible that a 
 man can have any good reason to damn his o^vn immortal 
 soul? Mark the Lord's question, " Turn ye, turn ye, why 
 will ye die ? " Is eternal death a thing to be desii'ed ? Are 
 yon in love with hell ? AVhat reason have you wilfully to 
 perish ? If you think you have some reason to sin, should 
 you not remember that "death is the wages of sm?" Eom. 
 vi. 23. And think whether you have any rca.son to undo 
 yoiu'selves, body and soul, for ever ? You should not only 
 ask whether yon love the adder, but whether you love the 
 sting. It is such a thing for a man to cast away his ever- 
 lasting happiness, and to sin against God, that no good rea- 
 son can be given for it ; but the more any one pleads for it, 
 rhe more mad he sheweth himself to be. Had you a lord- 
 ship or a kingdom offered to you for every sin that you 
 commit, it were not reason but madness to accept it. Gould 
 you by every sin obtain the highest thing on earth that Ijesli 
 desireth, it were of no considerable value to persuade you in 
 reason to commit it. If it were to ])lease your greatest and 
 dearest friends, or obey the greatest prince on earth, or to 
 save your lives, or to escape tlie greatest earthly ml.«iery, all 
 these ai"e of no consideration to draw a man in reJison to
 
 A CAM. TO TIIF, I'NCONVKin'ED. 131 
 
 (he comniittiiiii of one sin. If it were a right lumd or a 
 right eve that would hinder your salvation, it would be the 
 L'ainfullost way.to cast it away, rather than go to hell to save it. 
 For there is no saving a part, when you lose the whole. So 
 exceeding pn>at are the matters of eteniity, that nothing in 
 this world desenx'th once to be named in comparison with 
 tlieni, nor can any earthly thing, though it were life, or 
 crowns and kingdoms, be a reasonable excuse for matters of 
 so high and everlasting consequence. A man can have no 
 rejuson to cross his ultimate end. Heaven is such a thing, 
 that if you lose it, nothing can supply the want, or make up 
 the loss. And hell is such a thing, that if you sufler it, 
 nothing can remove your misen.-, or give you ease and com- 
 fort, An<l therefon^ nothing can be a valuable considera- 
 tion to excuse you for neglecting your own salvation. For 
 saith our Saviour, " What shall it profit a man if he shall 
 gain the whole world and lose his own soulV" Mark viii. 36. 
 O sirs ! did you but know -what matters they are we are 
 now s])caking to you of! The saints in heaven have other 
 kind of thoughts of the.se things. If the devil could come 
 to them that live in the sight and love of God, and should 
 offer them a cup of ale, or a whore, or merry company, or 
 sport, to entice them away from God and glory. I pray you 
 tell me, how do you think they would entertain the motion ? 
 Nay, if he should ofler them to bo kings on the cartli, do 
 you think this would entice them down from heaven? Oh, 
 with what hatred and holy scorn would they disdain and re- 
 ject the motion ':* and why should not you do so that have 
 heaven oj)ened to your faith, if you had bu^ faith to see it? 
 There is never a soul in hell, but knows by this time, that it 
 wn.s a mad exchange to let go heaven for fleshly pleasure ; 
 and that it is not a little mirth, or pleasure, or worldly 
 riches or honour, or the good will or the word of men, that 
 will qnetich hell-fire, or nuike him a saver that loselh hh> 
 .soul. Oh if you had he.inl what I bilievi-, if you liad seen 
 what I believe, and that on the credit of the word »^f God, 
 you would say, there can bo uo reuion to wuiTJUit a ii:an to'
 
 132 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 
 
 damn his soul ; you durst not sleep quietly anotlier night, 
 before you had resolved to turn and live. 
 
 If you see a man put his hand into the fire tiU it burn off, 
 you marvel at it ; but this is a thing that a man may have 
 reason for, as Bishop Cranmer had when he burnt off his 
 hand for subscribmg to popery. If }'0U see a man cut off 
 a leg, or an arm, it is a sad sight ; but this is a thing a man 
 may have good reason for ; as many a man doth to save his 
 life. If you see a man give his body to be burned to ashes, 
 and to be tormented with strappadoes and racks, and refuse 
 deliverance when it is offered ; this is a hard case to flesh 
 and blood. But this a man may have good reason for ; as 
 you may see in Heb. xi. 33-36 ; and as many a hundred 
 martjTS have done. But for a man to forsake the Lord 
 that made him, and for a man to run into the fire of hell, 
 when he is told of it, and entreated to turn, that he may be 
 saved ; this is a thuig that can have no reason in the woi'ld, 
 that is reason indeed, to justify or excuse is. For heaven 
 will pay for the loss of any thing that we can lose to get it, 
 or for any labour which we bestow for it. But nothing can 
 pay for the loss of heaven. 
 
 I beseech you now, let his word come nearer to your 
 hearts. As you are convinced you have no reason to de- 
 stroy yourselves, so tell me what reason you have to refuse 
 to turn, and live to God ; what reason hath the A'criest 
 worldling, or drunkard, or igiiorant, careless sinner of you 
 all, why you should not be as holy as any you know, and 
 be as careful for your souls as any other? WiU not hell 
 be as hot to you as to others? Should not your own souls 
 be as dear to you, as theu's to them ? Hath not God as 
 much authority over you ? Why then will ye not become 
 a sanctified people as well as they ? 
 
 O su's, when God bringeth dovm the matter to the very 
 principles of nature, and shews you that you have no more 
 reason to be ungodly than you have to damn your own 
 souls ; if yet you will not understand and tuni, it seems a 
 desperate case that you are in.
 
 A CALL TO THE UlSrCO^a^ERTED. 1 o3 
 
 And now cither you have reasons for what you do, or you 
 have not. If not, will you go on against reason itself? 
 Will you do that which you have no reason for ? But if 
 you think you have, produce them, and make the best of 
 your matter ; reason the case a little while with your fellow- 
 creature, which is far easier than to reason the case with 
 God. Tell me, man, here, before the Lord, as if thou wert 
 to die this hour, why shouldst thou not resolve to turn this 
 day, before thou stir fi'om the place thou standest in? 
 What reason hast thou to deny, or to delay? Hast thou 
 any reasons that satisfieth thine own conscience for it ? or 
 any that thou darest own and plead at the bar of God ? If 
 thou hast, let us hear them, bring them forth, and make 
 them good. But alas ! what poor stuff, what nonsense, in- 
 stead of reasons, do we daily hear from ungodly men ! But 
 for their necessity, I should be ashamed to name them. 
 
 1. OnS saith, K none shall be saved but such converted 
 and sanctified ones as you talk of, heaven would be but 
 empty ; then God help a great many. 
 
 Aiisiv. "WTiat, it seems you thmk God doth not laiow, or 
 else that he is not to be believed : measiure not all bj- your- 
 self; God hath thousands and millions of his sanctified ones ; 
 but yet they are few in comparison of the world, as Christ 
 himself hath told us in Matt. vii. 13, 14, and Luke xii. 32. 
 It better beseems you to make that use of this truth which 
 Christ teacheth you : " Strive to enter in at the strait gate ; 
 for strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, that leadeth 
 unto life, and few there be that find it : but wide is the 
 gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction, and 
 many there be that go in thereat," Luke xili. 22-2-4. " And 
 fear not, little flock (salth Christ to his sanctified ones), for 
 it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom,'' 
 Luke xii. 32. 
 
 Object. 2. I am sure if such as I go to hell, we shall 
 have store of company. 
 
 Answ. And will that be any ease or comfort to you ? or 
 do you think you may not have company enough in 
 heaven ? Will you be undone for company ? or will you not
 
 134 A CAXL TO THE UNCOITV'ERTED. 
 
 believe that God will execute his threatenings, because there 
 are so many that are guilty? All these are silly, unreason- 
 able conceits. 
 
 Object. 3. But all men are sinners, even the best of 
 you all. 
 
 Answ. But all are not unconverted sinners. The godly 
 live not in gross sins ; and their very infirniities are their 
 grief and biu-den, which they daily long, and pray, and 
 strive to be rid of. Sin hath not dominion over them. 
 
 Object. 4. I do not see that professors are any better than 
 other men ; they will overreach and oppress, and are as co- 
 vetous as any. 
 
 Answ. Whatever h^'pocrites are, it is not so with those 
 that arc sanctified God hath thousands and ten thousands 
 that arfe otherwise, though the maUcious world doth ac- 
 cuse them of what they can never prove, and of that which 
 never entered into their hearts. And commonly they charge 
 them with heart sins, which none can see but God ; because 
 they can charge them with no such wickedness in their lives 
 as they are guilty of themselves. 
 
 Object. 5. But I am no whoremonger, nor drunkard, nor 
 oppressor ; and therefore why should you call upon me to be 
 converted ? 
 
 Answ. As if you were not bom after the flesh, and had 
 not lived after the flesh, as well as others. Is it not as great 
 a sin as any of these, for a man to have an earthly mind, and 
 to love the world above God, and to have a faithless, un- 
 humbled heart ? Nay, let me tell you more, that many per- 
 sons that avoid disgraceful sins, are fast glued to the world, 
 and as much slaves to the flesh, and as strange to God, and 
 averse to heaven, in their more civil course, as others are in 
 their more shameful, notorious sins. 
 
 Object. 6. But I mean nobody any harm, and do no 
 harm ; and wliy tlien should God condemn me? 
 
 Answ. Is it no harm to neglect the Lord that made thee, 
 and the work for which thou earnest into the world, and 
 prefer the creature before the Creator, and neglect grace 
 that is daily offered thee ? It is the depth of thy sinfulness,
 
 A CALL TO THE UXCONTERTED. 135 
 
 to be Insensible of it. The dead feel not that they are 
 dead. If once thou wert made alive, thou wouldst see 
 more amiss in thyself, and marvel at thyself for making so 
 light of it. 
 
 Object. 7. I think you will make men mad under a pretence 
 of converting them : it is enough to rack the brains of 3unple 
 people, to muse so much on matters too high for them. 
 
 Answ. 1. Can you be madder than you are ah-eady? 
 Or at least, can there be a more dangerous madness, than to 
 neglect }-om" everlasting welfare, and wilfully undo j'oui'- 
 selves ? 
 
 2. A man is never well in his wits till he be converted ; 
 he neither knows God, nor sm, nor Christ, nor the world, 
 nor liimself, nor what his business is on the earth, so as to 
 set himself about it, till he be converted. The Scriptm-e 
 saith that the wicked are unreasonable men, 2 Thess. iii. 2 ; 
 and " that the wisdom of the world is foolishness with 
 God," 1 Cor. i. 20 ; and Luke xv. 17, it is said of the pro- 
 digal, " that when he came to himself," he resolved to return. 
 It is a wise world when men will disobey God, and run to 
 hell for fear of being out of their \A-its ! 
 
 3. What is there in the w^ork that Christ calls you to, 
 that should dinve a man out of his vnts ? Is it the lo\-ing 
 of God, and calling upon him, and comfortable thinking of 
 the glory to come, and the forsaking of oiu' sms, and 
 the loring of one another, and delighting ourselves in 
 the serrice of God ? Are these such things as should make 
 men mad? 
 
 4. And whereas you say, that these matters are too high 
 for us, you accuse God himself for making this our work, 
 and giring us his word, and commanduig all that will be 
 blessed, to meditate in it day and night. Ai'e the matters 
 which we are made for, and which we live for, too high for 
 us to meddle with? This is plainly to unman us, and to 
 make beasts of us, as if we were like to them that must 
 
 , meddle with no higher matters than what belongeth to flesh 
 and earth. If heaven be too high for you to think on, and 
 to pro\ide for, it will be too high for }ou ever to possess.
 
 136 A CALL TO THE U>s'COXVERTED. 
 
 5. If God should sometimes sufTer any weak-headed per- 
 son to be distracted by tliinking of eternal things, this is be- 
 cause they mismiderstand them, and run -without a guide. 
 And of the two, I had rather be in the case of such a one, 
 than of the mad, unconverted world, that take their dis- 
 traction to be their wisdom. 
 
 Object. 8. I do not think that God doth care so much 
 what men think, or speak, or do, as to make so great a 
 matter of it. 
 
 A71SW. It seems then, you take the word of God to be 
 false ; and then what -n-ill you believe ? But your own rea- • 
 son might teach you better, if you believe not the Scriptures ; 
 for you see God doth not set so Ught by us, but that he 
 vouchsafed to make us, and still preserveth us, and daily up- 
 holdeth us, and pro^ideth for us : and will any wise man 
 make a curious frame for nothing ? Will you make or buy 
 a clock, or a watch, and daily look to it, and not care 
 whether it go true or false ? Surely if you believe not a par- 
 ticular eye of Providence observing yom* hearts and lives, 
 vou cannot believe or expect any particular Providence to 
 observe your wants and troubles, to relieve you. And if God 
 had so little cared for you, as you imagine, you would never 
 have lived till now ; a hundi'ed diseases would have striven 
 which should first destroy you. Yea, the devil Avould have 
 haunted you, and fetched you away alive, as the great fishes 
 devour the less ; and as ravenous beasts and bii-ds devour 
 others. You cannot thmk that God made man for no end 
 or use ; and if he made him for any, it was sm-e for liimself. 
 And can you think he cares not whether liis end be accom- 
 plished, and whether we do the work that we are made 
 for? 
 
 Yea, by this atheistical objection, you make God to have 
 made and upheld all the world in vain. For what are all 
 other lower creatures for, but for man ? "Wliat doth the 
 eartli but bear us, and nourish us ? And the beasts do serve 
 us with then* labours and lives ; and so of the rest. And 
 hath God made so glorious a habitation, and set man to 
 dwell in it, and made all liis servants ; and now doth he
 
 A CALL TO THE L":SXOX\^ERTED. 137 
 
 look for nothing at his hands ? nor care how he thinks, or 
 speaks, or lives ? This is most unreasonable. 
 
 Object. 9. It was a better world when men did not make 
 so much ado in reUgion. 
 
 Ansic. It hath ever been the custom to praise the time 
 past. That world that you speak of, was wont to say, It 
 was a better world m oiu- forefathers' days, and so did they 
 of their forefathers. Tliis is but an old custom, because Ave 
 all feel the evil of om* own times, but we see not that which 
 was before us. 
 
 2. Perhaps you speak as you think: worldUngs think the 
 world is at the best, when it is agreeable to their minds, and 
 when they have most mirth and worldly pleasure. And I 
 doubt not but the de\-il, as well as you, would say, that then 
 it was a better world : for then he had more service, and 
 less disturbance ; but the world is best, when God is most 
 loved, regarded, and obeyed. And how else ynR you know 
 when the world is good or bad, but by this ? 
 
 Object. 10. Tliere are so many ways and religions, that 
 we know not which to be of ; and therefore we will be even 
 as we are. 
 
 Aiisw. Beeause there are many, vnR you be of that way 
 that you may be sure is Avrong ? None are farther out of 
 the way, than worldly, fleshly, unconverted sinners. For 
 they do not err in this or that opinion, as many sects do ; 
 but in the veiy scope and di'ift of theii* lives. If you were 
 going a journey that yoiu* life lay on, would jou stop or turn 
 agaui, because you meet some cross-ways, or because you 
 saw some travellers go the horse-way and some the foot- 
 way, and some perhaps break over the hedge, yea, and some 
 miss the way? Or would you not rather be the more care- 
 ful to inquire the way? K you have some servants tliat 
 know not how to do your work right, and some that 
 are imfaithful, would you take it well at any of the rest, 
 that would therefore be idle and do you no service, because 
 they see the rest so bad? 
 
 Ohject. 11. I do not see that it goes any bettor with those
 
 138 A CALL TO THE UNCOXVERTED. 
 
 that ai'e so godly, than with other men. They are as poor, 
 and in as much trouble, as otliers. 
 
 Answ. And perhaps in much more, when God sees it 
 meet. They take not an earthly prosperity for their wages. 
 They have laid up their treasiu-e and hopes in another world, 
 or else they are not Christians indeed. The less they have, 
 the more is behind : and they are content to wait till then. 
 
 Object. 12. "WTien you have said all that you can, I am 
 resolved to hope well, and trust in God, and do as well as I 
 can, and not make so much ado. 
 
 Ansiv. 1. Is that doing as well as you can, when you wiU 
 not turn to God, but your heart is against his holy and 
 diligent service ? It is as well as you vnW, indeed : but that 
 is your misery. 
 
 2. ISIy desire is that you should hope and trust in God. 
 But for what is it that you will hope ? Is it to be sa\'ed, 
 if you tui-n and be sanctified ? For this you have God's 
 {)romise ; and therefore hope for it, and spare not ; but if 
 you hope to be saved without conversion and a holy life, this 
 is not to hope in God, but in Satan, or yourselves ; for God 
 hath given you no such promise, but told you the contrary ; 
 but it is Satan and self-love that made you srach promises, 
 and raised you to such hopes. 
 
 Well, if these, and such as these, be all you have to say 
 against conversion and a holy life, your all is nothing, and 
 worse than nothing ; and if these, and such as these, seem 
 reasons sufficient to persuade you to forsake God, and cast 
 yourselves into hell, the Lord deliver you from such reasons, 
 and from such blind understandings, and from such senseless, 
 hardened hearts. Dare you stand to every one of these 
 reasons at the bar of God ? Do you think it wiU then serve 
 your turn, to say, Lord, I did not turn, because I had so 
 much to do in the world, or because I did not like the lives 
 of some professors, or because I saw men of so many minds? 
 Oh how easily will the light of that day confound and shame 
 such reasons as these! Had you the world to look afler? 
 Let the world which you served, now pay you your Avages,
 
 A C.-LLL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 139 
 
 and save you if it can ! Had you not a better world to 
 look after first ? And were ye not commanded to seek first 
 God's kingdom and righteousness, and promised, that other 
 things shall be added to you ? Matt. vi. 33. And were you 
 not told, " that godhness was profitable to all things, ha\'ing 
 the promise of tliis hfe, and of that which is to come V " 
 1 Tim. iv. 8. Did the sins of professors hmder you? 
 You should rather have been the more heedful, and learned 
 by then' falls to beware ; and have been the more careful, 
 and not to be more careless ; it was the Scripture -and not 
 then' lives, that was your rule. Did the many opinions of 
 the world hinder you ? Why, the Scripture that was your 
 rule, did teach you but one way, and that was the right 
 way ; if you had followed that, even in so much as was plain 
 and easy, you would never have miscarried. Will not such 
 answers as these confound and silence you ? If these will 
 not, God hath those that will. A\Tien he asketh the man, 
 "Friend, how camest thou in hither, not having on a wed- 
 ding garment?" jVLatt. xxii. 12 ; that is, what dost thou in 
 my church amongst professed Christians, without a holy 
 heart and life ? what answer did he make ? Why, the text 
 saith, " He was speechless," he had nothing to say. The 
 clearness of the case, and the majesty of God, vnh then 
 easily stop the mouths of the most confident of you, though 
 you will not be put down by any thing that we can say to 
 you now, but will make good yoxu* cause, be it never so bad. 
 I know already, that never a reason that now you can give 
 me, will do you any good at last, when your case must be 
 opened before the Lord and all the world. 
 
 iSTay, I scarce thmk that your own consciences are well 
 satisfied wdth your reasons. For if they are, it seems then 
 you have not so much as a pm^ose to repent ; but if you do 
 but pui-pose to repent, it seems you do not put much con- 
 fidence in your reasons which you bring against it. 
 
 What say you, unconverted sinners ? Have you any 
 good reason to give why you should not turn, and jn-esently 
 turn with all your hearts ? or will you go to hell in despite 
 of reason itself? Bethink you what you do, in time, for it
 
 140 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 
 
 will shortly be too late to bethink you. Can you find any 
 fault yntli God, or his work, or wages? Is he a bad master? 
 Is the devil whom ye serve a better ? or is the flesh a bet- 
 ter ? Is there any harm in a holy life ? Is a life of world- 
 liness and ungodliness better ? Do you think in your con- 
 science that it would do you any harm to be converted, and 
 live a holy life ? Wliat harm can it do you ? Is it harm 
 to you to have the Spii'it of Christ within you ? and to have 
 a cleansed, purified heart ? If it be bad to be holy, why 
 doth God say, " Be ye holy, for I am holy?" 1 Pet. i. 15, 
 1 6 ; Lev. xx. 7. Is it evil to be like God ? Is it not said, 
 that " God made man in his own image ? " Why, this holi- 
 ness is his image : this Adam lost, and this Christ by his 
 word and Spirit would restore you, as he doth to all that he 
 will save. "Wliy were )'0U baptized into the Holy Ghost, and 
 why do you baptize yom* childi-en into the Holy Ghost, as 
 your Sanctifier, if ye -will not be sanctified by him, but 
 think it a hm't to be sanctified ? Tell me truly, as before 
 the Lord, though you are loth to live a holy life, had you not 
 rather die in the case of those that do so, than of others ? If 
 you were to die this day, had you not rather die in the case 
 of a converted man than of the miconverted ? of a holy and 
 heavenly man, than of a carnal, eai'thly man ? And would 
 you not say as Balaam, " Let me die the death of the righte- 
 ous, and let my last end be lilce his ? " iffumb. xxiii. 10. And 
 why will you not now be of the mind that you will be of 
 then ? Fu'st or last you must come to this ; either to be 
 converted, or to wish you had been when it is too late. 
 
 But what is it that you are afraid of losing if you turn ? 
 Is it your friends ? You will but change them : God will 
 be your fi-iend, and Christ and the Spirit will be your friend, 
 and every Christian will be your fiiend. You will get one 
 Friend that will stand in more stead than all the fi-iends in 
 the world could have done. The fi-iends you lose would 
 have but enticed you to hell, but could not have delivered 
 you ; but the Friend you get will save you fi-om hell, and 
 bring you to his own eternal rest. 
 
 Is it your pleasures that you are afraid of losmg? You
 
 A CALL TO THE UXCOX^'ERTED. 141 
 
 think j'ou shall never have a merry day again, if once you be 
 converted. Alas ! that you should think it a greater plea- 
 sure to live in foolish sports and merriments, and please 
 your flesh, than hve in the believing thoughts of glory, and 
 in the loA^e of God, and in righteousness, and peace, and joy 
 in the Holy Ghost, in which the state of grace consisteth, 
 Rom. xiv. 17. If it be a greater pleasure to you to think 
 of your lands and inheritance (if you were lord of all the 
 country), than it is to a chUd to play with pins ; why should 
 it not be a greater joy to you to think of the kingdom of 
 heaven being yours, than all the riches or pleasm-es of the 
 world ? As it is but foolish childishness that makes children 
 so delight in gawds, that they would not leave them for all 
 your lands ; so it is but foolish worldliness, and fleshliness, 
 and Mickedness, that makes you so much deUght in your 
 houses, and lands, and meat, and drink, and ease, and 
 honour, as that you would not part with them for heavenly 
 delights. But what will you do for pleasure when these are 
 gone ? Do j'ou not think of that ? When your pleasures 
 end in horror, and go out with a stinking snuff, the plea- 
 sures of the saints are then at the best. I have had myself 
 but a little taste of the heavenly pleasures, in the fore- 
 thoughts of the blessed approaching day, and in the present 
 persuasions of the love of God in Christ ; but I have taken 
 too deep a di-aught of earthly pleasm-es (so that you may 
 see, if I be partial, it is on your side) ; and yet I must pro- 
 fess from that little experience, that there is no comparison. 
 There is more joy to be had in a day (if the sun of life shine 
 clear upon us) in the state of holiness, than in a whole life 
 of sinful pleasure : I had " rather be a doorkeeper in the 
 house of God, than to dwell in the tents of wickedness. A 
 day m his courts is better than a thousand " any where else, 
 Psal. Ixxxiv. 10. The mu-th of the wicked is like the 
 laughter of a madman, that knows not his own misery : and 
 therefore Solomon saith of such laughter, " It is mad ; and 
 of mirth, What doth it ? — It is better to go to the house of 
 mourning, than to go to the house of feasting ; for that is 
 the end of all men, and the lining will lay it to his heart.
 
 142' A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 
 
 Sorrow is better than laug-hter ; for by the sadness of the 
 countenance the heart is made better. The heart of the 
 wise is in the house of mourning ; but the heart of fools is 
 in the house of mii-th. It is better to hear the rebuke of 
 the wise, than to hear the song of fools ; for as the crackling 
 of thorns under a pot, so is the laughter of a fool," Eccl. ii. 
 2 ; vii. 2-G. All the pleasm-e of fleshly things is but like 
 the scratching of a man that hath the itch ; it is his disease 
 that makes him desire it : and a wise man had rather be 
 without his pleasure than be troubled with his itch. Your 
 loudest laughter is but like that of a man that is tickled, he 
 laughs when he hath no cause of joy. And it is a wiser 
 thing for a man to give all his estate, and his life, to be 
 tickled to make him laugh, than for you to part with the 
 love of God, and the comforts of holiness, and the hopes of 
 heaven, and to cast youi-selves into damnation, that you may 
 have your flesh tickled with the pleasure of sin for a little 
 while. Judge as you are men whether this be a wise man's 
 part. It is yoiu" carnal, unsanctified nature that makes a 
 holy life seem grievous to you, and a course of sensuality 
 seem more delightful. If you Avill but turn, the Holy Ghost 
 ■will give you another nature and inclination, and then it ■will 
 be more pleasant to you to be rid of your sin, than now it 
 is to keep it ; and you will then say that you knew not what 
 a comfortable life was till now, and that it was never well 
 with you till God and holiness were your delight. 
 
 Quest. But how cometh it to pass, that men should be so 
 unreasonable in the matters of salvation? They have wit' 
 enough in other matters ; what makes them so loth to be 
 converted, that there should need so many words in so plain 
 a case ; and all -will not do, but the most will live and die 
 uncoverted ? 
 
 Answ. To name them only in few words, the causes are 
 these : 
 
 1. Men arc naturally in love with earth and flesh ; they 
 are born sinners, and their nature hath an enmity to God 
 and godliness, as the nature of a serpent hath to a man. 
 And when all that ■we can say goes against the habi-
 
 A CALL TO THE UNCOXVEIITED. 143 
 
 tual inclinations of their natures, no marvel if it little pre- 
 vail. 
 
 2. They are in darkness, and know not the very things 
 that they hear. Like a man that was born blind, and hears 
 a high commendation of the light : but what will hearing do, 
 unless he sees it? They know not what God is, nor what 
 is the power of the cross of Christ, nor what the Spirit of 
 hoUness is, nor what it is to live in love by faith. They 
 know not the certainty, and suitableness, and excellency of 
 the heavenly inheritance. They know not what conversion 
 and a holy mind and conversation are, even when they hear 
 of them. They are in a mist of ignorance, they are lost and 
 bewildered in sin ; like a man that hath lost himself in the 
 night, and knows not where he is, nor how to come to him- 
 self again, till the daylight do 'recover him. 
 
 3. They are wilfuUy confident that they need no conver- 
 sion, but some partial amendment ; and that they are in the 
 way to heaven already, and are converted, when they are 
 not. And if you meet a man that is quite out of his way, 
 you may long enough call on liim to tm-n back again, if he 
 wiU not believe you that he is. out of the way. 
 
 4. Thoy are become slaves to their flesh, and drowned in 
 the world to make pro%'ision for it. Theii' lusts, and pas- 
 sions, and appetites have distracted them, and got such a 
 hand over them, that they cannot tell how to deny them, or 
 hoAV to muid any thing else. So that the drunkard saith, I 
 love a cup of good drink, and caimot forbear it. The 
 glutton saith, I love good cheer, and I cannot forbear. 
 The fornicator saith, I love to have my lusts fulfilled, and I 
 cannot forbear. And the gamester loveth to have his sports, 
 and he cannot forbear. So tliat they are even become capti- 
 vated slaves to their flesh, and their very wilfulness is become an 
 impotency, and what they would not do they say they can- 
 not. And the worldling is so taken up vnih earthly things, 
 that he hath neither heart, nor mmd, nor time for heavenly ; 
 but as in Pharaoh's dream, Gen. xli. 4, the lean kine did 
 eat up the flit ones, so tliis lean and barren earth do eat up 
 all the thoujijhts of heaven.
 
 144 A CALL TO THE UNCON^'ERTED. 
 
 5. Some are so earned away by the stream of evil com- 
 pany, that they are possessed with hard thoughts of a godly 
 life, by hearing them speak against it : or at least they think 
 they may venture to do as they see most do ; and so they 
 hold on in their sinful ways. And when one is cut off and 
 cast into hell, and another snatched away from among them 
 to the same condemnation, it doth not much daunt them, 
 because they see not whither they are gone. Poor wi-etches ! 
 they hold on in their ungodliness for all this ; for they little 
 know that their companions are now lamenting it in tor- 
 ments. In Luke xvi. the rich man in hell would fain have 
 had one to warn his five brethren, lest they should come to 
 that place of torment. It is like he knew their minds and 
 lives, and knew that they were hasting thither, and little 
 dreamed that he was there ; yea, and little would have be- 
 lieved one that should have told them so. I remember a 
 passage a gentleman told me he saAv upon a bridge over the 
 Severn.* A man was driring a flock of fat lambs, and 
 something meeting them and hindering their passage, one of 
 the lambs leaped upon the*wall of tlie bridge, and his legs 
 slipping from under him, he fell into the stream ; and the 
 rest seeing him, did one after another leap over the bridge 
 into the stream, and were all, or almost all, drowned. 
 Those that were behind, did little Icnow what was become 
 of them that were gone before, but thought that they might 
 venture to follow their companions. But as soon as ever 
 they were over the waU and falling headlong, the case was 
 altered. Even so it is with unconverted, carnal men. One 
 dieth by them, and drops into hell, and another follows the 
 same way ; and yet they will go after them, because they 
 thiiik not whither they are going. Oh ! but when death 
 has once opened their eyes, and they see what is on the 
 other side of the wall, even in another world, then what 
 would they give to be where they were ! 
 
 6. Moreover, they have a subtle, malicious enemy, that 
 is unseen of them, and plays his game in the dai'k ; and it 
 
 * Ml R. Rowley, of Shrewsbury, upon Acham Bridge.
 
 A C.VrX TO THE UNCONVERTED. 145 
 
 is Ins principal business to hinder their conversion ; and 
 therefore to keep them where they are, by persuading them 
 not to believe the Scriptures, or not to trouble their minds 
 •with these matters ; or by persuading them to think ill of a 
 godly life, or to think that it is more ado than needs, and 
 that they may be saved "without conversion, and -without all 
 this stir ; and that God is so merciful, that he will not damn 
 any such as they, or, at least, that they may stay a little 
 longer, and take their pleasm-e, and follow the world a little 
 longer yet, and then let it go, and repent hereafter ; and by 
 such juggling, deluding cheats as these, the de\-il keejjs most 
 in his captivity, and leadeth them to his misery. 
 
 These, and such like impediments as these, do keep so 
 many thousands unconverted, when God hath done so much, 
 and Cln-ist hath suffered so much, and ministers have said 
 so much, for theii- conversion ; when their reasons are si- 
 lenced, and they are not able to answer the Lord that calls 
 after them, " Turn ye, tiu-n ye, why will ye die?" yet all 
 comes to nothing vnih the gi'eatcjst pai't of them ; and they 
 leave us no more to do after all, but to sit down and lament 
 their wilful misery. 
 
 I have now shewed you the reasonableness of God's com- 
 mands, and the imreasonableness of wicked men's disobe- 
 dience. If nothing Avill serve turn, but men will yet refuse 
 to turn, we are next to consider whose doing it is if they 
 be damned. And this brings me to the last doctrine ; 
 which is, 
 
 Doct. VII. That if, after all this, men will not turn, it 
 is not of God that they are condemned, l)ut of tlicraselves, 
 even their own Avilfulness. They die because they vnll die, 
 that is, because they will not turn. 
 
 If you wQl go to heU, what remedy? God here acquits 
 himself of your blood : it shall not lie on him if you be lost. 
 A negligent minister may draw it upon him ; and those that 
 encourage you, or hinder you not, in sin, may draw it upon 
 them ; but be sure of it, it shall not lie upon God. Saith 
 the Lord concerning his unprofitable Adneyard, " Judge, I 
 piay you, between me and my vineyard : what could have 
 
 K
 
 146 A CALL TO THK UNCONVERTED. 
 
 been clone more to my vineyard, that I have not done to 
 it?" When he had " planted it in a fi-uitful soil, and fenced 
 it, and gathered out the stones, and planted it with the 
 choicest vines," what should he have done more to it? Isa. 
 V. 1-4. He hath made you men, and endued you with 
 reason ; he hath furnished you with external necessaries, all 
 creatiu'es are at your service ; he hath given you a righte- 
 ous, perfect law ; when you had broken it, and undone yom-- 
 selves, he had pity on you, and sent his Son by a miracle of 
 condescending mercy to die for you, and be a sacrifice for 
 your sins, and he " was in Christ reconciling the world to 
 himself." The Lord Jesus hath made you a deed of gift of 
 himself, and eternal life Avith him, on the condition you will 
 but accept it, and return. He hath, on this reasonable con- 
 dition, otiered you the fi'ee pardon of all your sins : he hath 
 wi'itten this in his word, and sealed it by his Sph-it, and sent 
 it you by his ministers ; they have made the offer to you a 
 hunth'ed and a hundred times, and called you to accept it, 
 and turn to God. They have in his name entreated you, 
 and reasoned the case with you, and answered all your fi'i- 
 volous objections. He hath long waited on you, and staid 
 your leisure, and suffered you to abuse him to his flice. He 
 hath mercifully sustained you in the midst of your sins ; he 
 hath compassed you about with all sorts of mercies ; he hath 
 also internnxed afflictions, to mind you of your folly, and 
 call you to yom- wits ; and his Spnit hath been often striv- 
 ing with yom- hearts, and saj-ing there. Turn smner, turn 
 to him that caUeth thee : whither art thou going ? ^Vhat 
 art thou domg? Dost thou know what will be the end? 
 How long wilt thou hate thy friends, and love thine ene- 
 mies ? "When Avilt thou let go all, and turn, and deliver up 
 thyself to God, and give thy lledeemer the possession of thy 
 soul ? When shall it once be ? These pleaduigs have been 
 used with thee ; and when thou hast delayed, thou hast been 
 urged to make haste, and God hath called to thee, " To- 
 day, while it is called to-day, harden not your heart. Why 
 not now without any more delay ? " Life hath been set be- 
 fore you ; the joys of heaven have been opened to you in
 
 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED 147 
 
 t'tic gospel ; tlic certainty of them have been manifested ; 
 tlie certainty of the everlasting torments of the damned have 
 been declared to you, vmless you would have had a sight of 
 heaven and hell, what could you desu'e more ? Christ hath 
 been, as it were, set forth crucified before your eyes, Gal. iii. 
 1. You have been a hundred times told, that you are but 
 lost men, tiU you come unto him ; as oft as you have been 
 told of the evil of sin, and of the vanity of sin, the world, 
 and all the pleasiu-es and wealth it can afford ; of the short- 
 ness and uncertainty of yom* lives, and the endless duration 
 of the joy or torment of the life to come. All this, and 
 more than this, have you been told, and told again, even 
 till you were weary of hearing it, and tUl you could make 
 the hghter of it, because you had so often heard it ; like 
 tlie smith's dog, that is brought, by custom, to sleep under 
 the noise of the hammers, Avhen the sparks do fly about his 
 ears : and though all this have not converted you, yet you 
 are alive, and might have mercy, to this day, if you had but 
 hearts to entertain it. And now let reason itself be judge, 
 whether it be of God or you, if after all this you will be 
 unconverted, and be damned ? If you die now it is be- 
 cause you will die. "What should be said more to you ? or 
 what coiu-se should be taken, that is liker to prevail ? Are 
 you able to say and make it good, AYe would fain have been 
 converted and become new creatm-es, but we could not ; we 
 would have changed ovu: company, and our thoughts, and 
 our discourse, but we could not. IVhy coidd you not if 
 you would? AXHiat hindered you, but the wickedness of 
 your heai-ts? ^Y[^o forced you to sin? or who did hold 
 you back from duty ? Had you not the same teaching, and 
 time, and hberty to be godly as your godly neighbours had ? 
 "\Miy then could you not have been godly as well as tlicy ? 
 "Were the church doors shut against you, or did you not 
 keep away yourselves ? or sit and sleep, or hear as if }ou tlid 
 not hear? Did God put in any exceptions against you in his 
 word, when he invited sinners to return, aild when he pro- 
 mised mercy to those that do return ? Did he say, I wiU 
 pardon all that repent, except thee ? Did he shut you out'
 
 148 A CALL TO THK L^XOX^'^ERTED. 
 
 from the liberty of liis holy worship ? Did he forbid you to 
 pray to him, any more than others ? You know he did not. 
 God flid not drive you away fi-om him, but you forsook liim, 
 and ran away yourselves. And when he called you to him, 
 you would not come. If God had excepted you out of the 
 general promise and offer of mercy, or had said to you,. 
 Stand off, I will have nothmg to do with such as you ; pray 
 not to me, for I wll not hear you. K you repent never so 
 much, and cry for mercy never so much, I wLU not regai-d 
 you. If God had left you nothing to trust to but desperation, 
 then von had had a iair excuse. You might have said. To 
 what end should I repent and turn, when it will do no 
 good? But this was not yoiu- case. You might have had 
 Chi-ist to be your Lord and Saviour, your Head and Hus- 
 band, as well as others, and you would not ; because that 
 ye felt not yourselves sick enough for the physician ; and 
 because you could not spare yopr disease : in your hearts- 
 ye said as those rebels, Luke xix. 14, " We vnR not have 
 this man to reign over us." Chi'ist would have gathered 
 vou under the wings of his salvation, and ye woiUd not, 
 iviatt. xxiii. 27. "What desires of your welfare did the Lord 
 express in his holy word ! With what compassion did he 
 stand over you and say, " Oh that my people had hearkened 
 unto me, and that they had walked in my way ! " Psal. 
 Ixxxi. 13. " Oh that there were such a heart in this people, 
 that they would fear me, and keep all my commandments 
 always, that it might be well Avith them, and with their 
 children for ever!" Deut. v. 29. "Oh that they were 
 Avise, that they understood this, and that they would con- 
 sider their latter end!" Deut. xxxii. 29. He would have 
 been your God, and done all for you that yoiu" souls could 
 well desire ; but you loved the world and your flesh above 
 him, and therefore you would not hearken to him ; though 
 you complimented with him, and gave him high, titles, yet 
 when he came to the closing, you would have none of him. 
 No marvel then, if " he gave you up to your o-wn heart's lusts, 
 and you walked in your own counsels," Psal. Lxxxi. 11,12. He 
 ccmdescendi to reason, and pleads the case with you, and asks
 
 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 149 
 
 vou, What is there in me, or my ser^ace, that you should be 
 so much against me ? AVTiat harm have I done thee, sinner ? 
 Have I deserved this unload dealing at thy hands ? Many 
 mercies have I shewed thee ; for which of them dc^t thou 
 despise me? Is it I, or is it Satan, that is thy enemy? Is 
 it I, or is it thy carnal self, that would undo thee ? Is it a 
 holy Ufe, or a life of sm, that thou hast cause to fly from ? 
 If thou be undone, thou procurest this to thyself, by forsak- 
 ing me the Lord, that would have saved thee, Jer. ii. 17. 
 " Doth not thine own wickedness correct thee, and thy sm 
 reprove thee : thou mayest see that it is an evil and bitter 
 tiling, that thou hast forsaken me," Jer. ii. 19. " ^Vhat 
 iniquity have ye foimd in me, that you have folloAved after 
 vanity, and forsaken me?" Jer. ii. 5, 6. He calleth out, 
 as it wei'e, to the brutes to hear the controversy he hath 
 against you. " Hear, O ye mountains, the Lord's contro- 
 versy, and ye strong foundations of the earth : for the Lord 
 hath a controversy with his people, and he will plead with 
 Israel. O my people, what have I done to thee, and where- 
 in have I wearied thee ? testify against me ; for I brought 
 thee out of Egj-pt, and redeemed thee," &c. INIic. ii. 2-5. 
 " Hear, heavens, and give ear, O earth, for the Lord hath 
 spoken. I have nourished and brought up children, and 
 they have rebelled against me. The ox knoweth his o^vner, 
 and the ass his master's crib, but Israel doth not laiow, my 
 people doth not consider. Ah, sinful nation, a people ladeu 
 with iniquity, a seed of e^^l-doers ! " &c. Isa. i. 2-4. " Do 
 you thus requite the Lord, O foolish people and unwise ? Is 
 not he thy Father that bought thee, made thee, and esta- 
 blished thee?" Deut. xxxii. 6. When he saw that you 
 forsook him even for nothing, and turned away from your 
 Lord and life, to hunt after the chaff and feathers of the 
 world, he told you of yom- folly, and called you to a more 
 profitable emplopnent. " Wherefore do you spend your 
 money for that which is not bread, and your labom- for that 
 which satisfieth not? Heai-ken diligently unto me, and eat 
 ye that which is good, and let your soul deUght itself in fat- 
 ness. Incline youi- ear, and come unto me ; hear, and yoiu:
 
 150 A CALL TO THE UNCOX\'ERTEr>. 
 
 soul shall live ; and I will make an everlasting covenant 
 with you, even the sure mercies of Da-sad. — Seek ye the 
 Lord while he may be found, call ye upon him while he is 
 near. Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous 
 . man his thoughts, and let him return unto the Lord, and he 
 will have mercy upon him, and to our God, for he ■\viU. 
 abundantly pardon," Isa. Iv. 1-3, 6, 7. And so Isa. i. 
 16-18. And when you would not hear, what complaints have 
 you put him to, charging it on you as your wilfulness and 
 stubbornness ! " Be astonished, O ye heavens, at this, and 
 be horribly afi'aid : for my people have committed two 
 evils ; they have forsaken me, the fountain of lining waters, 
 and hewed them out cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold 
 no water," Jer. ii. 12, 13. Many a time hath Christ pro- 
 claimed that fi'ce invitation to you, " Let him that is 
 athirst, come : and whosoever will, let him t:ike the water 
 of life freely," Iicv. xxii. 17. But you put him to com- 
 plain after all liis offers, " They will not come to me that 
 they may have life," John v. 40. He hath in\ated you 
 to feast with him in the kingdom of his grace ; and you 
 have had excuses from your gi'ounds, and your cattle, and 
 your worldly business ; and when you would not come, you 
 have said you could not, and provoked him to resolve that 
 you should never taste of his supper, Luke xiv. 15-23. 
 And whose act is it now but your own ? And what can 
 vo.u say is the chief cause of yom* damnation, but your own 
 Avills ? You would be damned. The whole case is laid open 
 by Christ himself, Prov. i. 20, to the end : " Wisdom 
 crieth -svithout, she uttereth her voice in the streets : she 
 crieth in the cliief place of concourse : How long, ye simple 
 ones, will ye love simplicity? and the scorners delight in 
 their scorning, and fools hate knowledge? Turn you at my 
 reproof: behold I wiU pom- out my Spirit unto you, I will 
 make knovvn my words unto you. Because I have called, 
 and ye refused ; I have stretched out my hand, and no man 
 regarded; but ye have set at nought all my counsel, and 
 would none of my reproof: I also will laugh at your cala- 
 mity; I will mock when your fear cometh ; when your fear
 
 A CALL TO THE UXCOXA'XRTED. 151 
 
 Cometh as desolation, and your destruction cometh as a 
 ■\vLirhvind ; when distress and anguish cometh upon you. 
 Then shall they call upon me, but I will not answer : they 
 shall seek me early but they shall not find me ; for that 
 they hated knowledge, and did not choose the fear of the 
 Lord : they would none of my counsel : they despised all 
 my reproof Tlierefore shall they eat of the fi'uit of their 
 own way, and be filled ^\^th then- own de^-ices. For the 
 turaing away of the simple shall slay them, and the pros- 
 perity of fools shall destroy them. But whoso hearkeneth 
 unto me shall dwell safely, and shall be quiet from the fear 
 of e\-il." I thought best to recite the whole text at large 
 to you, because it doth so fully shew the cause of the de- 
 struction of the wicked. It is not because God would not 
 teach them, but because they would not leam. It is not 
 because God would not call them, but because they would 
 not turn at his reproof Tlieir wilfulness is their undoing. 
 
 Use. From what hath been said, you may fui-ther leam 
 these following things : — 
 
 1. From hence you may see, not only what blasphemy 
 and impiety it is to lay the blame of men's destruction upon 
 God, but also hoAv unfit these -wicked wretches are to bring 
 in such a charge against their ]\Iaker. They cry out upon 
 God, and say, he gives them no grace, and his threatenings 
 are severe, and God forbid that all should be damned that 
 be not converted aud sanctified, and they think it hard mea- 
 sure, that a short sin should have an endless suflTering ; and 
 if they be damned, they say, they cannot help it. When 
 in the mean time they are busj' about their own destruc- 
 tion, even cutting the throat of their own souls, and wiU 
 not be persuaded to hold their hand. They think God 
 were cruel if he should damn them, and yet they are cruel 
 to themselves, and they %vill run into the fire of hell, when 
 God hath told them it is a Httle before them ; and neither 
 entreaties nor threatenings, nor any thing that can be said, 
 will stop them. "We see them almost undone ; their careless, 
 worldly, fleshly lives, do tell us, that they are in the power 
 of the dcA-il ; we know, if they die before they are con-
 
 152 A C.U-L TO THE UXCOXVERTED. 
 
 verted, all the -world cannot save tliem ; and knowing the 
 uncertainty of theii* lives, we are afi-aid every day lest they 
 drop into the fire. And, therefore, we entreat them to pity 
 theii' own souls, and not to undo themselves when mercy is at 
 hand ; and they will not hear us. "We entreat them to cast 
 away their sin, and come to Christ without delay, and to have 
 some mercy on themselves ; but they ^vill have none. And yet 
 they think that God must be cruel if he condemn them. O wil- 
 ful, wretched sinners ! it is not God that is so cniel to you ; it 
 is you that are cruel to yom-selves. You are told you must 
 tm'u or bum, and yet you turn not. You are told, that if 
 you will needs keep your sins, you shall keep the curse of 
 God with them, and yet you will keep them. You are told, 
 that there is no way to happiness but by holiness, and yet 
 you vnil not be holy. What would you have God say more 
 to you ? \Tliat would you have him do with his mercy ? He 
 offered it to you, and you will not have it. You are in the 
 ditch of sin and miserv", and he would give you his hand to 
 help you out, and you reftise his help ", he would cleanse 
 you of your sins, and you had rather keep them. You love 
 your lusts, and love your gluttony, and sports, and drunk- 
 enness, and win not let them go ; and would you have 
 him bring you to heaven whether you will or no ? or would 
 you have him to bring you and your sins to heaven to- 
 gethei" ? TlTiy, that is an impossibility ; you may as well 
 expect he should turn the sun into dai-kness. ^Tiat ! an un- 
 s;inctified, lleshly heait be in heaven ? It cannot be I 
 '• There entereth nothing that is unclean," Rev. xxi. 17. 
 -" For what commimication hath hght with diu-kness, or Christ 
 with BeUal?" 2 Cor. vi. 11, 15. "All the day long hath 
 he stretched out his hands to a disobedient and gainsaying 
 people.*' Rom. x. '25. AVhat will ye do now? Will you 
 crv- to God for mercy ? T\Tiy, God caUeth upon you to have 
 mercy upon yourselves, and you will not ; ndnisters see the 
 poisoned cup in the di-unkard's hand, and tell him. There is 
 poison in it, and desu'e him to have mercy on his soul, and 
 forbear, and he -will not hear us : diink it he must, and -sviU ; 
 he loves it, aud, therefore, though hell comes next, he saith,
 
 A C.AIL TO THE U>X0XAT:ETED. 153 
 
 he cannot help it. TMiat should one say to such men as 
 these ? We tell the imgodly, careless worldlings, It is not 
 such a life that Tvill serve the turn, or ever biing you to 
 heaven. If a bear were at your back, you would mend your 
 pace ; and when the curse of God is at your back, and 
 Satan and hell are at your back, you will not stir, but ask, 
 "What needs all this ado ? Is an immortal soul of no more 
 worth ? O have mercy upon yourselves ! But they will 
 have no mercy oj« themselves, nor once regard us. We 
 tell them the end will be bitter. "Who can dwell with the 
 everlasting fire ? And j'et they ■will have no mercy upon them- 
 selves. And yet Avill these shameful wretches say, that God 
 is more merciful than to condemn them ? when it is them- 
 selves that cruelly and unmercifully run upon condemnation. 
 And if we shotdd go to them with our hats in our hands, 
 and entreat them, we cannot stop them ; if we should fall 
 down on om' knees to them, we cannot stop them ; but to 
 hell they will, and yet will not believe that they are going 
 thither. If we beg of them, for the sake of God that made 
 them, and preser^'eth them ; for the sake of Christ that died 
 for them ; for the sake of their own poor souls ; to pity 
 themselves, and go no fai-ther in the way to hell, but come 
 to Chiist while his arms are open, and enter into the state 
 of life while the door stands open, and now take mercy 
 while mercy may be had, they will not be persuaded. If 
 we should die for it, we cannot get them so much as now 
 and then to consider Avith themselves of the matter, and to 
 turn. And yet they can say, I hope God wiU be merciful. 
 Did you never consider what he saith, Isa. xxAii. 11, " It is 
 a people of no imderstanding ; therefore he that made them 
 will not have mercy on them, and he that farmed them will 
 shew them no favour."' If another man wiU not clothe you 
 when you ai'e naked, and feed you when you are himgry, 
 you ^vill say he is unmerciml. If he should cast you into 
 prison, or beat or torment you, you would say he is unmer- 
 ciful. And yet you do a thousand times more against 
 yoursehies, even cast away both soul and body for ever, and 
 never complain of yom* own unmei-cifulness. Yea, and God
 
 154 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 
 
 that waited upon you all the while with his mercy, must be 
 taken to be unmerci&l, if he punish you after all this. Un- 
 less the holy God of heaven will give these wretches leave 
 to trample upon his Son's blood, and with the Jews, as it 
 were, again to spit in his face, and do despite to the Spirit 
 of grace, and make a jest of sin, and a mock at holiness, 
 and set more Hglit by sa^ang mercy, than by the filth of 
 their fleshly pleasure ; and unless, after all this, he will save 
 them by the mercy which they cast away and would none 
 of, God himself must be called unmerciful by them : but he 
 will be justified when he judgeth ; and he wHl not stand of 
 fall at the bar of a sinful worm. 
 
 I know there are many particular ca^•ils that are brought 
 by them against the Lord, but I shall not here stay to an- 
 swer them particularly, ha-\ang done it already in my " Trea- 
 tise of Judgment," to which I shall refer them. Had the 
 disputing part of the world been as careful to avoid sin and 
 destruction, as they have been busy in searching after the 
 cause of them, and forward indirectly to imjjute it to God, 
 they might have exercised their vnts more profitably, and 
 have less wronged God, and sped better themselves. When 
 so ugly a monster as sin is within us, and so heavj' a thing 
 as punishment is on us, and so dreadlld a thing as hell is 
 before us, one would think it should be an easy question who 
 OS in the fiiult, and whether God or man be the principal or 
 culpable cause? Some men are such favourable judges of 
 themselves, that they are proner to accuse the Infinite Per- 
 fection and Goodness itself, than their own hearts ; and 
 imitate their first parents that said, " The sequent temjDted 
 me, and the woman that thou gavest me, gave unto me, and 
 I did eat," secretly implying that God was the cause. So 
 say they. The understanding that thou gavest me Avas unable 
 to discern ; the will tliat thou gavest me was unable to 
 make a better choice ; the objects which thou didst set be- 
 fore me did entice me ; the temptation which thou didst 
 permit to assault me prevailed against me. And some are 
 so loth to think that God can make a self-dcterminftig crea- 
 ture, that they dare not deny him that which they take to
 
 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 155 
 
 1)6 his prerogative, to be the determiner of the will in every 
 sin, as the first efficient, inimechate, physical cause. And 
 many could be content to acquit God fi-om so much causing 
 of evil, if they could but reconcile it with his being the chief 
 cause of good. As if truths would be no longer truths, than 
 we are able to see them in their perfect order and cohe- 
 rence ; because our ravelled wits cannot set them right to- 
 gether, nor assign each truth its proper place, we presume 
 to conclude, that some must be cast away. This is the fi'uit 
 of proud self-conceitedness, when men receive not God's 
 truth as a child his lesson, in a holy submission to the holy 
 omniscience of our Teacher, but as censurers that are too 
 "wise to leam. 
 
 Object. But we cannot convert ourselves till God convert 
 us ; we can do nothing without his grace. It is not in him 
 that ■«-illeth, nor in him that runneth, but in God that shew- 
 eth merc)'. 
 
 Answ. 1. God hath two degrees of mercy to shew: the 
 mercy of conversion fii'st, and the mercy of salvation last. 
 The latter he will give to none but those that vnW and run, 
 and hath promised it to them only. The former is to make 
 them willing that were unwilhng ; and though your own 
 willingness and endeavours deserve not his gi'ace, yet your 
 wilful refusal deserveth that it should be denied unto you. 
 Your disability is your very unwilHngness itself, which ex- 
 cuseth not your sin, but maketh it the gi-eater. You could 
 turn, if you were but truly willing ; and if your wills them- 
 selves are so con-upted, that nothing but effectual gi-ace will 
 move them, you have the more cause to seek for that grace, 
 and )-ield to it, and do what you can in the use of the 
 means, and not neglect it, nor set against it. Do what you 
 are able fii-st, and then complam of God for denying jou 
 grace, if you have cause. 
 
 Object. But you seem to intimate, all this while, that man 
 hath free-will. 
 
 Answ. The dispute about free-^vill is beyond your capa- 
 city ; I shall, therefore, now trouble you with no more but 
 this about it. Your will is naturally a fi'ee, that is, a self-
 
 156 A CALL TO THE UNCOXVEr.TEO. 
 
 determining faculty ; but it is viciously inclined, and back- 
 ward to do good ; and therefore, we see by sad experience 
 that it hath not a virtuous, moral fi-eedom. But that is the 
 wickedness of it which deserveth the punishment. And I 
 pray you let us not befool ourselves with opinions. Let the 
 case be your own. If you had an enemy so malicious, 
 that he falls upon you and beats you every time he meets 
 you, and takes away the lives of yom- chilrh-en, wiU you 
 excuse him, because he saith, I have not fi-ee-will, it is 
 my nature, I cannot choose, unless God give me grace? 
 If you have a servant that robbeth you, will you talce 
 such an answer from him? IVIight not every thief and 
 murderer that is hanged at the assize, give such an an- 
 swer, I have not free-will, I cannot change my own heart. 
 What can I do without God's grace? And shall they, 
 therefore, be acquitted? K not, why, then, should you 
 think to be acquitted for a course of sin against the 
 Lord? 
 
 2. From hence also you may observe these three thing-s 
 together. (1.) What a subtle tempter Satan is. (2.) 
 What a deceitful thing sin is. (3.) What a foolish creature 
 corrupted man is. A subtle tempter, indeed, that can per- 
 suade the greatest part of the world to go wilfiilly into 
 everlasting fire, when they have so many warnings and dis- 
 suasives as they have ! A deceitful thing is sin, indeed, that 
 can bewitch so many thousands to part with everlasting life, 
 for a thing so base and utterly unworthy ! A foolish crea- 
 ture is man, indeed, that will be so cheated of his salvation 
 for nothing ; yea, for a known nothing ! and that by an 
 enemy, and a Icnown enemy ! You would think it impos- 
 sible that any man in his wits should be persuaded for a 
 trifle, to cast himself into the fire or water, into a coal-pit, 
 to the destruction of his life ; and yet men will be enticed 
 to cast themselves into hell. If your natural lives were in 
 your o^vn hands, that you should not die till you would kiU 
 yourselves, how long would most of you live ! And yet, 
 when your everlasting life is so far in your o^vn hands, un- 
 der God, that you cannot be undone till you undo your-
 
 A CALL TO THE UXCOX VERTED. 157 
 
 selves, how few of you will forbear j^our own undoing ! Ali, 
 Avha,t a silly tliinfr is man ! and what a bewitching and be- 
 fooling thing is sin ! 
 
 3. From hence also j'ou may learn, that it is no great 
 wonder, if -wicked men be hinderers of others in the way to 
 heaven, and would have as many unconverted as they can, 
 and would di-aAv them into sin, and keep them in it. Can 
 }ou expect that they should have mercy on others, that 
 have none upon themselves ? and that they should much 
 stick at the destruction of otliers, that stick not to destroy 
 themselves ? They do no worse by others, than they do 
 by themselves. 
 
 4. Lastly, You may hence learn that the greatest enemy 
 to man is himself, and the greatest judgment in this life, 
 that can befall him, is to be left to himself; and that the 
 great work that grace hath to do, is to save us from our- 
 selves, and the greatest accusations and complaints of men 
 should be against themselves ; and that the greatest woi'k 
 we hare to do ourselves, is to resist ourselves ; and the 
 greatest enemy we shoidd daUy pray, and watch, and strive 
 against, is our carnal hearts and -wills; and the greatest 
 part of your work, if you would do good to others, and help 
 them to heaven, is to save them from themselves, even from 
 their own blind understandmgs, and con-upted wills, and 
 perverse aifections, and \'iolent passions, and imrul}' senses. 
 I only name all these for brevity sake, and leave them to 
 your further consideration. 
 
 Well, sirs, now we have found out the great delinquent 
 and murderer of souls (even men's selves, their o-wn wills) ; 
 what remains, but that you judge according to the e-vidence, 
 and confess this gi-eat iniquity before the Lord, and be 
 humbled for it, and do so no more ? To these three ends 
 distinctly, I shall add a few words more. 1. Further to 
 convince you. 2. To humble you. And, 8. To reform 
 you, if there be yet any hopes. 
 
 1. We know so much of the exceeding gi-acious nature 
 of God, who is -vnlling to do good, and deligbteth to shew 
 mercy, that we have no reason to suspect him of being the
 
 158 A CALL TO THE UNXONYERTED. 
 
 culpable cause of our deatli, or call him cruel. He made 
 all good, and lie preservetli and maintainetli all. " The 
 eyes of all things do wait upon him, and he giveth them 
 their meat in due season ; he openeth his hand, and satis- 
 fieth the desires of all the living," Psal. cxlv. 15, 16. He 
 is not only " righteous in all his ways" (and, therefore, 
 will deal justly), " and holy in all his works" (and, there- 
 fore, not the author of sin), but " he is also good to all, 
 and his tender mercies are over all his works," Fsalm cxlv. 
 17, 9. 
 
 But as for man, we know his mind is dark, his will per-- 
 verse, his affections carry him so headlong, that he is fitted 
 by folly and coiTuption to such a work as the destroj-ing of 
 himself. If you saw a lamb lie killed in the way, would 
 you sooner suspect the sheep, or the dog or wolf to be the 
 author of it, if they both stand by ; or if you see a house 
 broken, and the people miu-dered, would you sooner sus- 
 pect the prince, or judge, that is wise and just, and had 
 no need ; or a known thief, or murderer ? I say, there- 
 fore, as James i. 13-15, "Let no man say when he is 
 tempted that he is tempted of God, for God cannot be 
 tempted ■\\ath e\al, neither tempteth he any man " (to draw 
 him to sin) ; " but every man is tempted, when he is ch'awn 
 away of his own lust, and enticed. Then when lust hath 
 conceived it bringeth forth sin : and sin, when it is finished, 
 bringeth forth death." You see here, that sin is the brat 
 of your own concupiscence, and not to be fathered on God ; 
 and that death is the offspring of your own sin, and the 
 fruit which it will jield you as soon as it is ripe. You have 
 a treasure of eAil in yourselves, as a spider hath of poison, 
 from whence you are bringing forth hurt to yourselves ; 
 and spuming such webs as entangle your own souls. Your 
 nature shews it is you that are the cause. 
 
 2. It is evident, you are your own destroyers, in that you 
 are so ready to entertain any temptation almost that is 
 offered you. Satan is scarce readier to move you to any 
 CN-il, than you are ready to hear, and to do as he would 
 have you. If he would tempt your understanding to eiTor
 
 A CXLJ. TO THE UXCOXVEETED. 159 
 
 and prejudice, you yield. If he would hinder you from good 
 resolutions, it is soon done. If he would cool any good 
 desires or affections, it is soon done. If he would Idndle 
 any lust, or \ilo affections and desires, in you, it is soon 
 done. If he would put you on to e\'il thoughts, words, or 
 deeds, you are so free, that he needs no rod or spur. If 
 he would keep you fi'om holy thoughts, and words, and 
 ways, a little doth it ; you need no curb. You examine 
 not his suggestions, nor resist them with any resolution, 
 nor cast them out as he casts them in, nor quench the 
 sparks which he endeavoureth to kindle. But you set in 
 ■\\ith him and meet him half-way, and embrace his motions, 
 and tempt him to tempt you. And it is easy to catch such 
 gi-eedy fish that are ranging for a bait, and will take the 
 bare hook. 
 
 3. Your destruction is e^'ldently your own doiiiff, in 
 that you resist all that would help to save you, and woidd 
 do you good, or hinder you fi-om undoing yoursehos. God 
 would help and save you by his word, and you resist it, it is 
 too strict for you. He would sanctify you by his Spirit, and 
 you resist and quench it. If any man reprove you for jour 
 sin, you fly in his face vnih. e^il words : and if he would 
 draw you to a hoi}' life, and tell you of }'our present danger, 
 you give him little thanks, but either bid him look to him- 
 self, he shall not answer for you ; or else at best, you put 
 him off with a heartless thanks, and wUl not turn when you 
 are persuaded. If ministers woidd privately instruct and 
 help you, you will not come at them, }our unhumbled souls 
 do feel but little need of their help. K they would catechise 
 you, you are too old to be catechised, though you are not 
 too old to be ignorant and unholy. ^\niatever they can 
 say to you for yom* good, you are so self-conceited and wise 
 in your ovm eyes (even in the depth of ignorance), that you 
 will regard, nothing that agreeth not with your present con- 
 ceits, but contradict your teachers, as if you were wscr than 
 they ; you resist all that they can say to you, by yoiu- igno- 
 rance and wilfulness, and foolish cavils, and shifting eva- 
 sions, and unthankful rejections ; so that no good that is
 
 160 A CALL TO THE LTN'COX^'EETED. 
 
 offered, can find any welcome acceptance or entertainment 
 with you. 
 
 4. Moreover, it is apparent tliAt }om' are self-destroyers, 
 in that you draw the matter of your sin and destruction, 
 even fi-om the blessed God himself. You like not the con- 
 trivance of his Avisdom. You like not his justice, but take 
 it for cruelty. You like not his holiness, but are ready to 
 think he is such a one as yourselves, Psal. 1. 21, and makes 
 as light of sin as you. You hke not his truth, but would 
 have his threatenings, even his peremptory threatenings, 
 prove false. And his goodness, which you seem most highly 
 to approve, you partly abuse to the streng-thening of your 
 sin, as if you might the freeher sin, because God is merciful, 
 and because his grace doth so much abound. 
 
 5. Yea, you fetch destruction fi-om youi* blessed Re- 
 deemer, and death from the Lord of life himself. And 
 nothing more emboldeneth }-ou in sin, than that Christ hath 
 died for you ; a? if now the danger of death were over, and 
 you might boldly venture. As if Christ Avere become a 
 servant to Satan and your sins, and must wait upon you 
 whUe you are abusing him ; and because he is become the 
 Physician of souls, and is able to save to the utmost all 
 that come to God by him, you think he must suffer you to 
 refuse his help, and throw away his medicines, and must 
 save you, whether you Avill come to God by him or no : so 
 that a great part of your sins are occasioned by yom* bold 
 presumption upon the death of Christ. 
 
 Not considering that he came to redeem his people from 
 their sin, and to sanctify them a pecuUar people to himself, 
 and to conform them in holiness to the image of then- hea- 
 venly Father, and to their Head, Matt. i. 21 ; Tit. ii. 14 ; 
 1 Pet. i. 15, 16 ; Col. iii. 10, 11 ; Phil. iii. 9, 10. 
 
 6. You also fetch your own destruction fi-om all the pro- 
 vidences and works of God. "\^^len you think of his eter- 
 nal foreknowledge and decrees, it is to harden you in your 
 sin, or possess j-our minds with quarrelling thoughts, as if 
 his decrees might spare you the labour of repentance and 
 a holy life, or else were the cause of }om- sin and death. If
 
 A C.VI.L TO THE rXCONVERTED. 161 
 
 he afflict you, you repine ; if lie prosper you, you tlie more 
 forget liim, and are the more baclcward to the thoughts of 
 the life to come. If the ■\\ifkefl prosper, you forget the end 
 that vn\l set all reckonings straight ; and are ready to think, 
 it is as good to bo -wicked as godly. And thus you draw 
 your death from all. 
 
 7. And the like you do from all the creatures, and mer- 
 cies of God to you ; he giveth them to you as the tokens 
 of his love, and furniture for his service, and you tuni them 
 against him to the pleasing of your flesh. You eat and 
 drink to please yom- appetite, and not for the glorj' of God, 
 and to enable you for his work. Yom' clothes you abuse to 
 pride. Your riches draw j-our hearts fi'om heaven, Phil. iii. 
 18. Your honours and applause do puff you up; if you 
 have health and strength, it makes you moi-e seciu-e, and 
 forget your end. Yea, other men's mei'cies are abused by 
 you to your hurt. If you see theii* honours and dignity, you 
 are provoked to en\y them. If you see their riches, you are 
 ready to covet them. If you look upon beauty, you are 
 stirred up to lust. And it is well if godliness be not an eye- 
 sore to you. 
 
 8. The verj' gifts that God bestoweth on you, and the 
 ordinances of grace which he hath instituted for his church, 
 you turn unto your sin. K you have better parts than 
 others, you gi'ow proud and self-conceited. If you have but 
 common gifts, you take them for special grace. You take 
 the bare hearing of your duty for so good a work, as if it 
 would excuse you lor not obepng it. Your prayers are 
 turned into sin, because you " regard iniquity in your 
 hearts." Psal. ]x^i. 18. And you " depart not fi'om ini- 
 quity when you call on the name of the Lord," 2 Tim. ii. 1 9. 
 Your "prayers are abominable, because you turn away your 
 ear from hearing the law," Prov. xx™i. 9. And you are 
 more ready to " offer the sacrifice of fools," (thinking you do 
 God some special service), " than to hear his Avord, and obey 
 it," Eccl. V. 1 . You examine not yom*selves before you receive 
 the supper of the Lord, but, not discerning the Lord's body, 
 do eat and drmk judgment to yourselves, 1 Cor. xi. 28, 29. 
 
 L
 
 162 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 
 
 9. Yea, the persons you converse with, and all their ac- 
 tions, you make the occasions of your sin and destruction. 
 If they live in the foar of God, you hate them. If they live 
 ungodly, you imitate them. If the wicked are many, you 
 think you may the more boldly follow them. If the godly 
 be few, you are the more emboldened to despise them ; if 
 they walk exactly, you think they are too precise ; if one of 
 them fall into a., particular tempt:ition, you stumble upon 
 them, and turn aAvay fi-om holiness, because others are im- 
 perfectly holy ; as if you were warranted to break your necks 
 because some others have, by theu* heedlessness, sprained a 
 sinew or put out a bone. If a hj-pocrite discover himself, 
 you say, Tliey are all ahke ; and think yourselves as honest 
 as the best. A professor can scarce slip into any miscar- 
 riage, but because he cuts his finger you think you may 
 boldly cut yoiu" throats. If ministers deal plainly with you, 
 you say they rail ; if they speak gently or coldly, you either 
 sleep under them, or are little more affected than the seats 
 you sit upon. K any errors creep into the church, some 
 greedily entertain them, and others reproach the Christian 
 doctrine for them, which is most against them. And if we 
 would draw you fi'om any ancient, rooted error, which can 
 but plead too, or three, or six, or seven hundred years' cus- 
 tom, you are as much offended with a motion for reforma- 
 tion, as if you were to lose your life by it, and hold fast old 
 errors while you cry out against new ones. Scarce a differ- 
 ence can arise among the ministers of the gospel, but you 
 will fetch j'our own death fi-om it. And you will not hear, 
 or at least not obey, the unquestionable doctrine of any of 
 those that jump not with your conceits : one will not hear a 
 minister, because he readeth his sermons ; and another -mil 
 not hear him, because he doth not read them. One will not 
 hear him because he saith the Lord's prayer ; and another 
 will not hear him, because he doth not use it. One will 
 not hear them that are for ejjiscopacy, and another xnll not 
 hear them that are against It. And thus I might shew you 
 in many other cases, how you turn all that comes near 
 you to your own destruction ; so clear is it, that the un-
 
 A C^VIX TO THE UiSrCONVERTEI>. 1 G3 
 
 godly are self-destroyers, and that their perdition is of them- 
 selves. 
 
 Methinks, now, upon the consideration of Avhat is said, 
 and the review of your oavii Avays, you should bethink you 
 what you have done, and be ashamed, and deeply hmiibled, 
 to remember it. If you be not, I pray you consider these 
 following truths. 
 
 1. To be your own destroyers, is to sin against the deep- 
 est principle in your natures, even the principle of self-pre- 
 servation. Every thing naturally desu-eth or inclineth to its 
 own felicity, welfare, or perfection. And will you set your- 
 selves to your own destruction ? AYhen you are commanded 
 to love your neighbours as yourselves, it is suj^posed that 
 you naturally love yourselves ; but if you love your neigh- 
 bours no better than yourselves, it seems you would have all 
 the world to be dannied. 
 
 2. How extremely do you cross your own intentions ! I 
 know you intend not your oavti damnation, even when you 
 are procuring it ; you think you are but doing good to your- 
 selves, by gratifying the desires of your flesh. But, alas ! it 
 is but as a di-aught of cold water in a burning fever, or as 
 the scratching of an itchmg wildfire, which mcreaseth the 
 disease and pain. K indeed you would have pleasure, profit, 
 or honour, seek them where they are to be found, and do 
 not hunt after them in the way to hell. 
 
 3. ^Vliat pity is it that you should do that against your- 
 selves which none else in earth or hell can do ! If all the 
 world were combined against you, or all the devils in hell 
 were combined agamst you, they could not destroy you with- 
 out yourselves, nor make you sin but by your own consent. 
 And Avill }ou do that against yom'selves which none else can 
 do ? You liave hateful thoughts of the devil, because he is 
 your enemy, and endeavom-eth your destruction. And will 
 you be worse than devils to yourselves ? Why thus it is 
 with you, if you had hearts to understxmd it ; when you rim 
 into sin, and nm from godliness, and refuse to turn at the 
 call of God, you do more against your o^vn souls than men 
 or devils could do besides. And if you should set your-
 
 1 64 A CAI.L TO THE UXCOKVERTED. 
 
 solves, and bend j-our Avits to do yourselves tlie greatest 
 mischief, you could not devise to do a gi-eater. 
 
 4. You are false to the trust that God hath reposed in 
 you. He hath much intrusted yOu "vvith your own salvation ; 
 and will you betray your trust ? He hath set you with all 
 diligence to keep yoiu- hearts? and is this the keeping of 
 them? Prov. iv. 23. 
 
 5. You do even forbid all others to pity you, when you 
 will have no pity on yourselves. If you cry to God in the 
 day of your calamity, for mercy, mercy ; what can you exr 
 pect but that he should thrust you away, and say. Nay, 
 thou wouldst not have mercy on thyself; who brought this 
 upon thee but thine own vdlfulness ? And if your brethren 
 see you everlastingly in misery, how should they pity you, 
 that were your own destroyers, and would not be dis- 
 suaded ? 
 
 6. It will everlastingly make you your own tormentors 
 in hell, to think on it, that you brought yourselves wilfully 
 to that misery. Oh, what a griping thought it will be for 
 ever, to think with yourselves, that this was your own doing ! 
 That you were warned of this day, and warned again, but 
 it would not do ; that you -vAolfully sinned, and tm-ned away 
 tV-ora God ; that you had time as well as others, but you 
 abused it ; you had teachers as well as others, but you re- 
 fused their instruction ; you had holy examples, but you did 
 not imitate them ; you were offered Christ, grace, and glory 
 as well as others, but you had more mind to fleshly plea- 
 sures ; you had a prize in your hands, but h?id not a heart 
 to lay it out, Prov. xvii. 16. Can it choose but torment, 
 you, to think of this your present folly? Oh that your eyes 
 were opened to see what you have done in the wilfiil wrong- 
 ing of your oAvn souls ! and that you better understood those 
 words of God, Prov. viii. 33-36, " Hear instruction, and 
 be wise, and refuse it not. Blessed is the man that heareth 
 me, watching daily at my gates, waiting at the posts of my 
 doors. For whoso findeth me, findeth life, and shall obtain 
 favour of the Lord. But he that sinneth against me, wrong- 
 eth his own soul : all they that hate me, love death."
 
 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 165 
 
 And now I am come to the conclusion of this work. My 
 heart is troubled to think how I shall leave you, lest after 
 this the flesh should deceive you, and the world and the 
 devil should keep you asleep, and I should leave you as I 
 found you, till you awake in hell. Though, in care of your 
 poor souls, I am afraid of this, as knowing the obstmacy of 
 a carnal heart, yet I can say with the prophet Jeremiah, 
 " I have not desired the woeftd day, the Lord knoweth," 
 Jer. xvii. 16. I have not, with James and John, desired 
 that fire might come down from heaven, to consume them 
 that refused Jesus Christ. But it is the preventmg of the 
 eternal fii'e that I have been all tliis while endeavouring : 
 and oh that it had been a needless work ! that God and 
 conscience might have been as wilhng to spare me this la- 
 bom*, as some of you could have been ! But, dear friends, 
 I am so loth you should he in everlasting fire, and be shut 
 out of heaven, if it be possible to prevent it, that I shall 
 once more ask you, AVhat do you now resolve ? Will you 
 turn or die ? I look upon you as a physician on his patient, 
 in a dangerous disease, that saith unto hun, Though you are 
 so far gone, take but this mecUcine, and forbear but these 
 few things that are so hiulful to you, and I dare warrant 
 your life ; but if you will not do this, you are a dead man. 
 What would you think of such a man, if the physician and 
 all the friends he hath, cannot persuade liim to take one 
 medicine to save his life, or to forbear one or two poisonous 
 things that would kill him ? This is your case. As far as 
 you are gone in sin, do but now turn and come to Christ, 
 and take his remedies, and yoiu- souls shall live. Cast up 
 yom' deadly sms by repentance, and retmui not to your 
 poisonous vomit any more, and }ou shall do well. But yet 
 if it were your bodies that we had to deal with, we might 
 partly know what to do for you. Though you would not 
 consent, you might be held or bound, while the medicine 
 was poured down your throats, and hurtful things might be 
 kept from you. But about your souls it cannot be so ; we 
 cannot convert you against your wills. Tb.ere is no cany- 
 ing madmen to heaven in fetters. You may be condemned
 
 166 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED, 
 
 against your wills, because you sinned witli your wills ; but 
 you cannot be saved against youi' wills. The wisdom of 
 God hatb thought meet to lay men's salvation or destruction 
 exceeding mucli upon the choice of their own wills : that 
 no man shall come to heaven that choose not the way to 
 heaven ; and no man shaU come to hell, but shall be forced 
 to say, I have the thing I chose, my o^vu will did bring 
 me hither. Now if I could but get you to be willing, 
 to be thoroughly and resolvedly, and habitually willing, 
 the work were more than half done. And alas ! must 
 we lose our friends, and must they lose then- God, their 
 happiness, then- souls, for want of this? God for- 
 bid ! It is a strange thing to me, that men are so inhu- 
 man and stupid in the greatest matters, that m lesser things 
 are very ci\al and com-teous, and good neighbours. For 
 aught I know, I have the love of all, or almost all my 
 neighbours, so far, that if I should send to every man in 
 the to"^vn, or parish, or country, and request a reasonable 
 courtesy of them, they vnR grant it me ; and yet when I 
 come to request of them the greatest matter in the world, 
 for themselves, and not for me, I can have nothing of many 
 of them but a patient hearing. I know not whether people 
 think a man in the pulpit is in good sadness or not, and 
 means as he speaks ; for I think I have few neighbours, but 
 if I were sitting famiUarly -with them, and telling them of 
 what I have seen or done, or known in the world, they 
 would believe me, and regard what I say ; but when I tell 
 them fi-om the uifalhble word of God, what they themselves 
 shall see and know in the world to come, they shew by 
 their Uves that they do either not behove it, or not much 
 regard it. If I met ever any one of them on the way, and 
 told them, yonder is a coal-pit, or there is a quicksand, or 
 there are thieves lay in wait for you, I could persuade them 
 to turn by. But when I tell them that Satan lieth in wait 
 for them, and that sin is poison to them, and that hell is 
 not a matter to be jested -with, they go on as if they did 
 not hear me. Truly, neighbom's, I am in as good earnest 
 with you in the pulpit, as I am in any fauuliar discourse,
 
 A CALL TO THE UXCOXVERTED. 167 
 
 and if ever you will regard me, I beseech you let it be here. 
 I think there is never a man of you all, but if my own soul 
 lay at your -wills, you woul:! be willing to save it (though 
 I cannot promise that you would leave yom- sms for it.) TeU 
 me, thou di-unkard, art thou so cruel to me that speaks to 
 thee, that thou wouldst not forbear a few cups of diink, if 
 thou knewest it would save my soul fi'om hell ? Hadst thou 
 rather I did burn there for ever, than thou shouldst Hve 
 soberly as other men do ? If so, may I not say, thou art 
 an unmerciful monster, and not a man ? If I came hungry 
 or naked to one of your doors, would you not part with 
 more than a cup of drink to relieve me ? I am confident 
 you would ; if it were to save my life, I know }'ou would 
 (some of you) hazard yom* ovm. And yet will you not be 
 entreated to part with your sensual pleasures for your own 
 salvation ? Wouldst thou forbear a huntked cups of chink, 
 man, to save my life, if it were in thy jjower, and wilt thou 
 not do it to save thy own soul ? I profess to you, sirs, I 
 am as hearty a beggar A\4th you this day, for the sa^"ing of 
 your souls, as I would be for my own suj^ply, if I were 
 forced to come a begging to your doors. And, therefore, 
 if you Avould hear me then, hear me naw. If you would 
 pity me then, be entreated now to pity yourselves. I do 
 again beseech you, as if it were on my bended knees, that 
 you would hearken to your Redeemer, and turn, that you 
 may Hve. All you that have lived in ignorance, and careless- 
 ness, and presumption, to this day ; and all you that have been 
 di'owned in the cares of the world and have no mind of God 
 and eternal glory ; all you that are enslaved to your fleshly 
 desu'cs of meats and drinks, sports and lust ; and all you 
 that know not the necessity of holiness, and never were 
 acquainted w-iih the sanctifjing woi-k of the Holy Ghost 
 upon your souls ; that never embraced youf blessed Re- 
 deemer by a hvely faith, and with admiiing and thankful 
 apprehensions of his love, and that never felt a highei" esti- 
 mation of God and heaven, and a heartier love to them,, 
 than to your fleshly prosperity, and the things below ; I ear- 
 nestly beseech you, not only for my sake, but for the Lord's
 
 168 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 
 
 sa,ke, and for your soul's sake, that you go not on one day 
 longer in your former condition, but look about you and 
 cry to God for convertmg grace, that you may be made 
 new creatures, and may escape the plagues that are a little 
 before you. And if ever you will do any thing for me, 
 grant me tliis request, to turn fi'om your evil ways and live : 
 deny me any thing that ever I shall ask you for myself, if 
 you -will but grant me this. And if you deny me this, I 
 care not for any tiling else that }'ou would grant me. Naj-, 
 as ever you v.-ill do any thing at the request of the Lord 
 that made you and redeemed you, deny him not this ; for 
 if you deny him this, he cares for nothing that you shall 
 grant him. As ever you would have him hear your prayers, 
 and grant your requests, and do for you at the hour of 
 death and day of judgment, or in any of your extremities, 
 deny not liis request now in the day of your prosperity. O 
 sirs, believe it, death and judgment, and heaven and hell, 
 are other matters when you come near them, than they 
 seem to carnal eyes atar off. Then you vnll hear such a 
 message as I bring you, with more awakened, regardful 
 hearts. 
 
 Well, though I cannot hope so well of all, I will hope 
 that some of }0U are b}' this time purposing to turn and live ; 
 and that you are ready to ask me, as the Jews did Peter, Acts 
 ii. 37, when they were pricked to their hearts, and said, ''Men 
 and brethren, what shall we do ? " How might we come 
 to be truly converted? We are willing, if we did but 
 loiow our duty. God forbid that we should choose destruc- 
 tion by refusing conversion, as hitherto we have done. 
 
 If these be the thoughts and purposes of your hearts, I 
 say of j'ou, as God did of a promising people, Deut. v. 28, 
 29, " They have well said, all that they have spoken: oh 
 that there were such an heart in them, that they would fear 
 me, and keep nil my commandments always ! " Your pur- 
 poses are good ; oh that there were but a heart in you to 
 perform these purposes ! And In hope thereof, I shall 
 gladly give you direction what to do, and that but briefly, 
 that you may the easier remember it for yom* practice.
 
 A CAIX TO THE XJ>'COXYERTED. 169 
 
 Direct. 1 . If you would be converted and saved, labour 
 to understand the necessity and true nature of conversion ; 
 for what, and from what, and to what, and by what it is 
 that you must turn. 
 
 Consider what a lamentable condition you are in till the 
 hoiu" of yom* conversion, that )ou may see it is not a state 
 to be rested in. You are under the guilt of all the sins 
 that ever you committed, and under the wi-ath of God, and 
 the curse of his law ; you are bond-slaves to the devil, and 
 daily emplojed in his Avork against the Lord, yourselves, and 
 others. You are spiritually dead and deformed, as being 
 void of the holy life, and natin-e and image of the Lord. You 
 are unfit for any holy work, and do nothing that is truly plea- 
 sing unto God. You are without any promise or assurance of 
 his jjrotection ; and live in continual danger of liis justice, 
 not knoAving what hour you may be snatched away to hell, 
 and most certain to be damned if }ou die in that condition. 
 And nothing short of conversion can prevent it. ^Vhatever 
 civilities, or amendments, or Airtues, are short of true con- 
 version, will never procure the savmg of your souls. Keep 
 the true sense of this natural misery, and so of the necessity 
 of conversion, on your hearts. 
 
 And then you must understand what it is to be con- 
 verted ; it is to have a new heart or disposition, and a new 
 conversation. 
 
 Quest. 1. For what must we turn? 
 
 A7isu\ For these ends following, which you may attain. 
 1. You shall immediately be made living members of 
 Christ, and have interest m him, and be renewed after the 
 image of God, and be adorned with all his graces, and 
 quickened -vrith a new and heavenly life, and saved from the 
 tjTanny of Satan and the dominion of sin, and be justified 
 from the curse of the law, and have tlie pardon of all the 
 sins of your whole hves, and be accepted of God, and made 
 his sous, and have liberty with boldness to call him Father, 
 and go to hun by prayer iu all your needs, with a promise 
 of acceptance ; you shall have the Holy Ghost to dwell in 
 jrou, to sanctliy and guide you. You shall have part in the
 
 170 A CALL TO THE XJNCOXVERTED. 
 
 brotherliood, communion, and prayers of the saints. You 
 shall be fitted for God's service, and be freed from the do- 
 minion of sin, and be useful and a blessing to the place 
 where you live, and shall have the promise of this life and 
 that which is to come. You shall want nothing that is truly 
 good for j'ou, and your necessary afflictions you will be 
 enabled to bear. You may have some taste of the com- 
 munion of God in the Spii'it ; especially in all holy ordi- 
 nances, where God prepareth a feast for your souls. You 
 shall be heirs of heaven while you live on earth, and may 
 foresee, by faith, the everlasting glory, and so may live and 
 die in peace ; and you shall never be so low, but your 
 peace and happiness will be incomparably greater than your 
 misery. 
 
 How precious is every one of these blessings, which I 
 do but briefly name, and which in this life you may re- 
 ceive. 
 
 And then, 2. At death your souls shall go to Christ, 
 and at the day of judgment both soul and body shall be 
 justified and glorified, and enter into your JNIaster's joy ; 
 where your happiness wUl consist in these particulars. 
 
 (1.) You shall be perfected yourselves : j-our mortal 
 bodies shall be made immortal, and the corruptible shall put 
 on incorruption ; you shall no more be hungrj', thirsty, 
 weary, or sick ; nor shall you need to fear -either shame, 
 sorrow, death, or hell. Your souls shall be perfectly freed 
 from sin, and perfectly fitted for the knowledge, love, and 
 praises of the Lord. 
 
 {2.) Your employment shall be to behold your glorified 
 Redeemer, with all your holy fellow-citizens of heaven ; 
 and to see the glory of the most blessed God, and to love 
 him perfectly, and be loved by him, and to praise him ever- 
 lastingly. 
 
 (3.) Your glory wiU contribute to the glory of the new 
 Jerusalem, the city of the Uving God, which is more than to 
 have a private feUcity to yourselves. 
 
 (4.) Your glory will contribute to the glori^ing of your 
 Redeemer, who will everlastingly be magnified and pleased
 
 A CALL TO THE UXCOX^'ERTED. 171 
 
 in you, that are the travail of bis soul. And this is more 
 than the glorifjing of yourselves. 
 
 (5.) And the Eternal IMajesty, the living God, will be 
 glonfied in your glory, both as he is magnified by yom* 
 praises, and as he communicateth of his glory and goodness 
 to you, and as he is pleased in you ; and in the accomphsh- 
 ment of his glorious works, in the glory of the New Jeru- 
 Sidem, and of his Son. 
 
 All this the poorest beggar of you that is converted, shall 
 certainly and endlessly enjoy. 
 
 2. You see for what you must tm-n ; next you must un- 
 derstand from what you must turn. And that is, in a word, 
 from your carnal self, which is the end of all the uncon- 
 veited. From the flesh, that would be pleased before God, 
 and would still be enticing you thereto. From the world, 
 that Is the bait ; and from the devU, that is the angler for 
 souls, and the deceiver. And so irom all known and wHful 
 sins. 
 
 3. Next you must know to what you must turn. And 
 that is, to God as your end ; to Chi-Ist, as the way to the 
 Father ; to holiness, as the way appointed you by Christ ; 
 and so, to the use of all the helps and means of gi'ace of- 
 fered you by the Lord. 
 
 4. Lastly, you must know by what you must turn. And 
 that is, by Christ, as the only Redeemer and Litercessor ; 
 and by the Holy Ghost, as the Sanctifier ; and by the word, 
 as his instrument or means ; and by faith and repentance 
 as the means and duties on yom' part to be performed. All 
 this is of necessity. 
 
 Direct. 2. If you would be converted and saved, be much 
 in secret, serious consideration. Liconsiderateness undoes 
 the world. Withdi-aw yourselves off into retired secrecy, 
 and there betliink you of the end why you were made, of 
 the life you have lived, the time you have lost, the sins you 
 have committed ; of the love, and suffermgs, and fulness of 
 Christ ; of the danger you are in ; of the nearness of death 
 and judgment ; and of the ceilainty and excellency of the 
 jo}s of heaven ; and of the certamty and terror of the tor-
 
 172 A CA1.1. TO THE UNCONVERTED. 
 
 ments of hell, and the eternity of both ; and of the necessity 
 of conversion and a holy life : steep yoiu- hearts in such con- 
 siderations as these. 
 
 Direct. 3. If you will be converted and saved, attend 
 upon the word of God, which is the ordinary means. Read 
 the Scripture, or hear it read, and other holy writings that 
 do apply it ; constantly attend upon the public preaching of 
 the word. As God will lighten the world by the sun, and 
 not by himself alone, without it ; so w411 he convert and 
 save men by his ministers, who are the lights of the world, 
 Acts xxvi. 17, 18 ; Matt. v. 14. AVhen he hath miracu- 
 lously humbled Paul, he sendeth him to Ananias, Acts ix. 
 10. And when he hath sent an angel to Cornelius, it is 
 but to bid him send for Peter, who must tell him what he 
 is to believe and do. 
 
 Direct. 4. Betake yourselves to God, in a course of earnest, 
 constant prayer. Confess and lament your former lives, 
 and beg his grace to illuminate and convert you. Beseech 
 him to pardon what is past, and give you his Spirit, and 
 change your hearts and lives, and lead j'ou in his wa}-s, and 
 save you from temptation. And ply this work daily, and 
 be not weary of it. 
 
 Direct. 6. Presently give over your known and -nalful 
 sins, make a stand, and go that way no further. Be di'unk 
 no more, but avoid the places and occasion of it. Cast 
 away your lusts and sinful pleasm-es with detestation. Curse, 
 and swear, and rail no more ; and if you have wronged any, 
 restore as Zaccheus did. If you will commit again your 
 old sins, what blessmg can you expect on the means of con- 
 version ? 
 
 Direct. 6. Presently, if possible, change yom* company, 
 if it hath hitherto been bad ; not by forsaking your neces- 
 sarj' relations, but your unnecessaiy, sinful companions ; 
 and join yourselves with those that fear the Lord, and in- 
 quu-e of them the way to heaven. Acts ix. 19, 26 ; Psal. 
 XV. 4. 
 
 Direct. 7. Deliver up yourselves to the Lord Jesus, as 
 the Ph}'sician of yom- souls, that he may pardon you by his
 
 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 173 
 
 blood, and sanctify you by his Spirit, by his Avord and mi- 
 nisters, the instruments of his Sjiirit. " He is the way, the 
 truth, and the Hfe : there is no coming to the Father but by 
 liim," John xiv. 6 ; " nor is there any other name under 
 heaven by which you can be saved," Acts iv. 12. Study 
 therefore his person, and nature, and what he hath done and 
 suffered for you, and what he is to you, and what he will 
 be, and how he is fitted to the full supply of all your neces- 
 sities. 
 
 Direct. 8. If you mean indeed to turn and hve, do it 
 speedily without delay. If you be not willing to turn to-day, 
 you will not be ■v\dUing to do it at all. Remember you are 
 all this while in your blood ; under the guilt of many thou- 
 sand sins, and under God's wrath, and you stand at the 
 very brink of hell ; there is but a step between you and 
 death. And this is not a case for a man' that is well in his 
 wits to be quiet in. Up therefore presently, and fly as for 
 yoiu" lives ; as you would be gone out of your house if it 
 were all on fire over your heads. Oh if you did but know 
 what continual danger you live in, and what daily unspeak- 
 able loss you sustain, and what a safer and sweeter life you 
 might live, you would not stand trillmg, but presently turn. 
 Multitudes miscarry that wilfully delay when they are con- 
 vinced that it must be done. Your lives are short and un- 
 certain ; and what a case are you in, if you die before you 
 thoroughly turn ! You have staid too long already ; and 
 •wronged God too long ; sm getteth strength and rooting ; 
 while you delay, your conversion will grow more hard and 
 doubtful. You have much to do, and therefore put not all 
 off to the last, lest God forsake you, and give you up to 
 yourselves, and then you iire undone for ever. 
 
 Direct. 9. If you will turn and live, do it unreservedly, 
 absolutely, and universally. Think not to capitulate with 
 Christ, and di\idc your heart between him and the world, 
 and to part \n{\\ some sins and keep the rest ; and to let go 
 that which your flesh can spare. This is but self-deluding : 
 you must in heart and resolution forsake all that you have, 
 or else you cannot be his disciples, Luke xiv. 26, 33. If
 
 174 A CALL TO THE tlNCON VERTED. 
 
 you will not take God and heaven for your portion, and lay 
 all below at the feet of Cj^ist, but you must needs also 
 have your good tilings here, and have an earthly portion, 
 and God and glory is not enough for you ; it is in vain to 
 dream of salvation on these terms ; for it will not be. If 
 you seem never so rehgious, if jet it be but a carnal righte- 
 ousness, and the flesh's prospenty, or pleasure, or safety, 
 be still excepted in your devotcdness to God ; this is as 
 certam a way to death as open proflmeness, though it be 
 more plausible. 
 
 Direct. 10. If you will turn and live, do it resolvedly, 
 and not stand stUl deliberating, as if it were a doubtful case. 
 Stand not wavering, as if you were yet uncertain whether 
 God or the flesh be the better master ; whether heaven or 
 hell be the better end ; or whether sin or holiness be the 
 better way : but away with your former lusts, and presently, 
 habitually, and fixedly resolve : be not one day of one mind, 
 and the next of another ; but be at a point "with all the 
 world, and resolvedly give up yom'selves, and aU you have, 
 to God. Now, while you are reading or hearing this, re- 
 solve. Before you sleep another night, resolve. Before 
 you stir fi-om the place, resolve. Before Satan hath time 
 to take you off, resolve. You will never tm-n indeed tiU 
 you do resolve ; and that with a firm, unchangeable resolu- 
 tion. So much for the directions. 
 
 And now I have done my part in this work, that you 
 may turn at the call of God and live. AVhat will become of 
 it, I cannot tell. I have cast the seed at God's command ; 
 but it is not in my power to give the increase. I can go 
 no further with my message, I cannot bring it to your 
 hearts, nor make it work : I cannot do your parts for you 
 to entertain it, and consider of it ; nor can I do God's part, 
 by opening your heart, to cause you to entertain it ; nor can 
 I shew you heaven or hell to your eyesight, nor give you 
 new and tender hearts. If I knew Avhat more to do for 
 your conversion, I hope I should do it. 
 
 But, thou that art the gracious Father of spirits, that 
 hast sworn thou dellffhtest not in the death of the wicked.
 
 A CALL TO THE UXCOXVERTED. 175 
 
 but ratlier tliat tbey turn and live ; deny not thy blessing 
 to these persuasions and directions, and suffer not thine ene- 
 mies to triumph in thy sight ; and the great deceiver of 
 souls to prevail over thy Son, thy Spirit, and thy word. O 
 pity poor unconverted sinners, that have no hearts to pitj' or 
 lielp themselves : command the blind to see, and the deaf to 
 hear, and the dead to live, and let not sin and death be able 
 to resist thee. Awaken the secure ; resolve the unresolved ; 
 confirm the wavering : and let the eyes of sinners, that read 
 these lines, be next employed in weeping over their sins ; 
 and bring them to themselves, and to thy Son, before their 
 sins have brought them to perdition. If thou say but the 
 word, these poor endeavours shall prosper, to the winning of 
 many a soul to their everlasting joy, and thine everlasting 
 glory. Amen.
 
 I7r» 
 
 FORMS OF PRAYER. 
 
 Five Prayers : one for Families : one for a Penitent Sinner: 
 one for the Lorcfs Day : one for Children and Servants : 
 one in the method of the LoirVs Prayer, being an Exposition 
 of it : for the use of those only ivho need such helps. 
 
 Two reasons moved me to annex these prayers : 1. I ob- 
 serve that abundance of people, who have some good desu-es, 
 do forbear, through disabihty, to worship God in then- families, 
 who I hope Avould do it, if they had some helps. And 
 though there be many such extant, yet few of these poor 
 flimilies have the books, and I can give them my own at a 
 little cheaper rate than I can buy others to give them. 
 
 2. Some that seem to have been brought to true repen- 
 tance and newness of life, by God's blessing, on the reading 
 of my books, have earnestly entreated me to write them a 
 form of prayer for their famihes, because long disuse hath 
 left them unable to pray before others. 
 
 For the service of God, and the good of men, I am con- 
 tented to liear the censures of those who account all forms 
 of book -prayers to be sin ; for in an age when pride (the 
 father) and ignorance (the mother) hath bred superstition 
 (the daughter), and taught men to think that God as fondly 
 valueth their several modes of speaking to him as they do 
 themselves, and thinketh as contemptuously of the contrary 
 as they, the question whether form or no form, book or no 
 book, hath been resolved unto such tragical and direful 
 effects, that I were too tender, if a censure should dis- 
 courage me.
 
 A C.VLL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 177 
 
 A Prayer for Families, Morning and Evening. 
 
 Almighty, all-seeing, and most gracious God, the world 
 and all therein is made, maintauied, and ordered by thee : 
 thou art eve]-}-Tvhere present, being more than the soul of 
 all the world. Though thou art revealed in thy glory to 
 those only that are in heaven, thy grace is still at work on 
 earth to prepare men for that glory : thou madest us not as 
 the beasts that perish, but with reasonable, immortal souls, 
 to know, and seek, and serve thee here, and then to live 
 •with all the blessed in the everlasting sight of thy heavenlj' 
 glory, and the pleasures of thy perfect love and praise. But 
 we are ashamed to thuik how foolishly and sinfully we have 
 forgotten and neglected our God and our souls, and our 
 hopes of a blessed immortaHty, and have overmuch minded 
 the tilings of this \^sible, transitory world, and the pros- 
 perity and pleasure of this corruptible flesh, which we know 
 must tm'n to rottenness and dust. Thou gavest us a law 
 whifh was just and good, to guide us in the only way to 
 life ; and -when by sin we had undone ourselves, thou gavest 
 us a Sa\'iour, even thy Eternal Word made man, who by 
 his holy life and bitter suSerings reconciled us to thee, and 
 both purchased salvation for us, and revealed it to us, better 
 than an angel fi-om heaven could have done, if thou hadst 
 sent him to us sinners on such a message : but alas, how 
 light have we set by our Redeemer, and by all that love 
 which thou hast manifested by him ! and how little have we 
 studied and understood, and less obeyed, that covenant of 
 grace which thou hast made by him to lost mankind ! 
 
 But, O God, be mercifid to us \ile and miserable sinners ; 
 forgive the sins of our natm-al pravity and the follies of our 
 youth, and all the ignorance, negligence, omissions and 
 commissions of our n\'es : and give us true repentance for 
 them, or else we know that thou wilt not forgive them. 
 Our life is but as a shadow that passeth away, and it is but 
 as a moment till we must leave this world, and appear he- 
 fore thee to give up om* account, and to speed for ever as 
 
 M
 
 178 A CALL TO THE IINCOXVERTED. 
 
 here Ave have prepared. Should we die before thou hast 
 tui-ned our hearts fi'om this sinful flesh and world to thee by 
 true faith and repentance, we shall be lost for evermore. 
 Oh woe to us that ever we Avere born, if thou forgive not 
 our sins, and make us not hoi)*, before this short, uncertain 
 life be at an end ! had we all the riches and pleasures of 
 tliis world, they would shorth- leave us in the greater sor- 
 rows. We know that all om- life is but the time which thy 
 mercy allotteth us to prepare for death ; therefore we should 
 not put off our rej)entance and preparation to a sick bed : 
 but now, Lord, as if it were our last and dying Avords, Ave 
 earnestly beg tliy pardoning and sanctifAing grace, through 
 the merits and intercession of our Eedeemer. O thou that 
 hast pitied and saved so many millions of miserable sinners, 
 pity and save us also, that Ave may glorify thy grace for ever : 
 surely thovi delightest not in the death of siiiners, but rather 
 that they retm-n and Uve : hadst thou been uuAvoUing to shcAv 
 mercy, thou wouldst not have ransomed us by so precious a 
 price, and still entreat us to be reconciled unto thee : Ave 
 have no cause to distrust thy truth or goodness, but we are 
 afraid lest unbeUef, and pride, and hj^i^ocrisy, and a worldly, 
 fleshly mmd, should be our ruin. O save us from Satan, 
 and this temptuig world, but especially from ourselves: teach 
 us to deny all ungodliuess and fleshly lusts, and to Ha'C 
 soberly, righteousl}', and godly in this Avorld. Let it be our 
 chiefest daily Avork to please thee, and to lay up a treasure 
 in heaven, and to make sure of a blessed life Avith Christ, 
 and quietly to trust thee Avith soul and body, ]\Iake us 
 Ijuthful in our callings, and our duties to one another, and 
 to all men, to our superiors, equals, and inferiors : bless the 
 queen, and all in authority, that Ave may live a quiet and 
 peaceable hfe in all godliness and honest}' : give Avise, holy, 
 and peaceable pastors to all the chm'ches of Christ, and holy 
 and peaceable minds to the people : convert the heathen and 
 infidel nations of the world; and cause us, and all tliy people, 
 to seek first the halloAving of thy name, the coming of thy 
 kingdom, the doing of thy Avill on earth as it is done in 
 heaven : give us our daily bread, even all things necessar\'
 
 A CALL TO THE UXCOXVERTED. 179 
 
 to life and godliness, and let us be therewith content. For- 
 give us oui* diiil)' sins, and let thy love and mercy constrain 
 us to love thee above all : and for thy sake to love our 
 neighbours as ourselves ; and in all our dealings to do justly 
 and mercifully, as we would have others do by us. Keep 
 us from hurtful temptations, from sin, and from thy judg- 
 ments, and from the malice of our spiritual and coi-poral 
 enemies ; and let all our thoughts, afiections, passions, 
 words, and actions, be governed by thy word and Spfrit to 
 thy glory ; make all our religion and obedience pleasant to 
 us ; and let om* soids be so delighted in the praises of thy 
 kingdom, thy power, and thy glory, that it may secure and 
 sweeten om* labour by day, and our rest by night, and keep 
 us in a longing and jo)-ful hope of the heavenly glory : and 
 let the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God 
 om' Father, and the communion of the Holy Spirit, be with 
 us now and for ever. Amen. 
 
 A Confession and Prmjcr for a Penitent Sinner. 
 
 O most great, most wise, and gi'acious God, though thou 
 hatest all the workers of iniquity, and canst not be recon- 
 ciled unto sin ; yet through the mediation of thy blessed 
 Son, with pity behold tliis miserable siimer who casteth 
 himself down at the footstool of thy grace. Had I lived to 
 those high and holy ends, for which I was created and re- 
 deemed, I might now have come to thee in the boldness and 
 confidence of a child, in assurance of thy love and favour ; 
 but I have pla}'ed the fool and the rebel against thee ! I 
 have wilfully forgotten the God that made me, and the 
 Saviour that redeemed me, and the endless glory which 
 thou didst set before me : I forgot the business which I 
 was sent for into the world ; and have lived as if I had been 
 made for nothing, but to pass a few days in fleshly pleasiu-e, 
 and pamper a carcass for the worms : I Milfull}- forgot what 
 it is to be a man, who had reason given him to rule his 
 flesh, and to know his God, and to foresee his death, and
 
 180 A CALL TO THE UXCOXVERTED. 
 
 the state of immortality : and I made my reason a servant 
 to my senses, and lived too like tlie beasts that perish. Oh 
 the precious time which I have lost, wliich all the world 
 cannot call back ! Oh the calls of gi-ace, which I have ne- 
 glected ! Oh the calling of God, which I have resisted ! the 
 wonderfid love which I unthankiiiUy rejected ! and the 
 manifold mercies wliich I have abused, and turned into 
 wantonness and sin ! How deep is the guilt which I have 
 contracted ! and how great are the comforts which I have 
 lost ! I mio-ht have lived all this while in the love of thee 
 my gracious God ; and in the deUght of thy holy word and 
 ways ; m the daily sweet foresight of heaven, and in the joy of 
 the Holy Ghost : if I would have been ruled by thy righteous 
 laws : but I have hearkened to the flesh, and to this %vicked 
 and deceitfid world, and have preferred a short and sinful 
 life before thy love and endless glory. 
 
 Alas, Avhat have I been doing since I came into the world ? 
 FoUy and sin have taken up my time. I am ashamed to 
 look back upon the }ears that I have spent ; and to think 
 of the temptations that I have jielded to. Alas, what tiifles 
 have enticed me from my God ! How httle have I had for 
 the holy pleasures which I have lost ! Like Esau, I have 
 profanely sold my bu-thright for one morsel, to please my 
 fancy, my appetite, and my lust ; I have set light by all the 
 joys of heaven ; I have unldndly despised the goodness of 
 my ]\Iaker ; I have slighted the love and gi-ace of my Re- 
 deemer ; I have resisted thy Holy Spirit, silenced my own 
 (Conscience, and grieved thy ministers and my own faithful 
 friends, and have brought myself into this woeful case, 
 wherein I am a shame and burden to myself, and God is 
 my terror, who should be only my hope and joy. 
 
 Thou knowest my secret sins, which are miknown to men ; 
 thou knowest all their aggravations. My sins, O Lord, 
 have found me out. Fears and sorrows overwhelm me ! If 
 I look behind me, I see my -wickedness pursue my soul, and, 
 as an army, ready to overtake me, and devour me. If I 
 look before me, I see the just and dreadful judgment, and I 
 know that thou wilt not acquit the giulty. If I look within
 
 A C.AXL TO THE TJ^^^COXVERTED. 181 
 
 me, I see a dark defiled heart. If I look without me, I see 
 a world still offering fi-esh temptations to deceive me. If I 
 look above me, I see thine offended dreadful Majesty ; and 
 if I look beneath me, I see the place of endless torment, and 
 the company which I desem'e to suffer •w'ith. I am afi'aid 
 to live, and more afraid to die. 
 
 But yet when I look to thy abundant mercy, and to thy 
 Son, and to thy covenant, I have hope. Thy goodness is 
 equal to thy greatness ; thou art love itself, and thy mercy 
 is over all thy works. So wonderfully hath thy Son conde- 
 scended mito ginners, and done and suffered so much for 
 theu' salvation, that if yet I should cjuestion thy ■\nlUngTiess 
 to forgive, I should but add to all my sins, by dishonouring 
 that matchless mercy which thou dost design to glorify. 
 Yea more, I find upon record in thy word, that through 
 Christ thou hast made a covenant of grace, and act of ob- 
 li\-ion, in which thou hast already conditionally but freely 
 pardoned all ; granting them forgiveness of all their sins, 
 ■vnthout any exception, whenever by unfeigned faith and re- 
 pentance they turn to thee by Jesus Christ. And thy pre- 
 sent mercy doth increase my hope, in that thou hast not cut 
 me off, nor utterly left me to the hardness of my heart, but 
 shewest me my sin and danger, before I am past remedy. 
 
 O, therefore, behold this prostrate sinner, which with the 
 pubUcan smiteth on his breast, and is ashamed to look up 
 towards heaven : " God, be merciful to me a sinner." 
 I confess not only my original sin, but the folUes and furies 
 of my youth, my manifold sins of ignorance and knowledge, 
 of negligence and wilfulness, of omission and commission ; 
 against the law of nature, and against the grace and gospel 
 of thy Son ; forgive and saA'e me, my God, for thy abun- 
 dant mercy, and for the sacrifice and merit of thy Son, and 
 for the promise of forgiveness which thou hast made through 
 him, for in these alone is all my trust. Condemn me not 
 who condemn myself O thou that hast opened so precious 
 a fountam for sin and for uncleanness, wash me thorouglily 
 from my wickedness, and cleanse me from my sin. Though 
 thy justice might send me presently to hell, let mercy
 
 182 A CAXL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 
 
 triumpli in my salvation. Thou hast no pleasure in the 
 death of sinners, but rather that they repent and Hve : if my 
 repentance be not such as thou requirest, O soften this 
 hardened, flinty heart, and give me repentance unto life. 
 Turn me to thyself, O God of my salvation, and cause thy 
 face to shine upon me. " Create in me a clean heart, and 
 renew a right spirit -within me." ]\Ieet not this poor, re- 
 turning prodigal, in thy wTath, but with the embracement of 
 thy tender mercies. Cast me not from thy presence, and 
 sentence me not to depart from thee with the workers of 
 iniquity. Thou who didst patiently endure me when I 
 despised thee, refuse me not now I seek unto thee, and here 
 in the dust implore thy mercy. Thou didst convert and 
 pardon a wicked Manasseh, and a persecuting Saul. And 
 there are multitudes in heaven, who were once thine ene- 
 naies. Glorify also thy superabounding grace, in the for- 
 giveness of my abounding sins. 
 
 I ask not for Uberty to sm again, but for deliverance from 
 the sinning nature. O give me the renewing Spirit of thy 
 Son, which may sanctify all the powers of my soul. Let 
 me have the new and heavenly birth and nature, and the 
 Spirit of adoption to reform me to thine image, that I may 
 be holy as thou art holy. Illuminate me "vvith the saving 
 knowledge of thyself, and thy Son Jesus Christ. O fill me 
 with thy love, that my heart may be wholly set upon thee, 
 and the remembrance of thee be my chief delight : let the 
 freest and sweetest of my thoughts run after thee : and the 
 freest and sweetest of my discourse be of thee, and of thy 
 glory, and of thy kingdom, and of thy word and ways ! O 
 let my treasure be laid up in heaven, and there let me daily 
 and delightfully converse. jNIake it the great and daily 
 business of my devoted soul, to please thee, and to honotir 
 thee, to promote thy kingdom, and to do thy will ! Put thy 
 fear into my heart, that I may never depart from thee. 
 This world hath had too mucli of my heart already ; let it 
 now be crucified to me, and I to it, by the cross of Christ : 
 let me not love it nor the things which are therein ; but 
 ha\'ing food and raiment, cause me therewith to be content.
 
 A CALL TO THE UXCOXVERTED. 183 
 
 Destroy in me all fleshly lusts, that I may not live after the 
 flesh, but the Spirit. Keep rae from the snares of ■mckeil 
 company, and from the counsel and ways of the ungodly. 
 Bless rae with the helpful communion of the saints, and with 
 all the means that thou hast appointed to further our sanc- 
 tification and salvation. Oh that my ways were so dii-ected, 
 that I might keep thy statutes ! Let me never return again 
 to folly, nor forget the covenant of my God : help me to 
 quench the first motion of sin, and to abhor all sinful de- 
 sires and thoughts : and let tliy Spirit strengthen me against 
 all temptations ; that I may conquer and endure to the end. 
 Prepare me for sufferings, and for death and judgment ; 
 that when I must leave this smful world, I may }-ield up 
 my departing soul with joy into the faithful hands of my 
 dear Redeemer ; that I be not numbered with the ungodly, 
 which die in their unpardoned sin, and pass into everlasting 
 miser}- ; but may be found in Christ, harag the righteous- 
 ness which is of God by faith ; and may attain to the resur- 
 rection of the just ; that so the remembrance of the sin and 
 miseries from which thou hast delivered me, may further my 
 perpetual thanks and praise to thee my Creator, ni}- Re- 
 deemer, and my Sanctifier. 
 
 And oh that thou wouldst call and convert the miserable 
 nations of idolaters and infidels, and the multitudes of un- 
 godly h^-pocrites, who have the name of Christians, and not 
 the truth, and pov^'er, and life. O send forth labourers in- 
 to thy harvest, and let not Satan hinder them. Prosper 
 thy gospel, and the kingdom of thy Son, that sinners may 
 more abundantly be convei'ted to thee, and this earth may 
 be made like unto heaven ; that when thou hast gathered us 
 all into unity with Christ, we may all, with perfect love and 
 joy, ascribe to thee the kingdom, the power, and the glory, 
 for ever and ever. Amen.
 
 J. 84 A CALL TO THE UNCOXVERTED. 
 
 A Form of Praise and Prayer for tlie Lord's Day. 
 
 Glorious Jehovah, while angels and perfected spirits are 
 praising thee in the presence of thy glor}', thou hast allowed 
 and commanded us to take om* part in the presence of thy 
 grace : we have the same most holy God to praise ; and 
 though we see thee not, oiu* Head and Saviour seeth thee, 
 and our faith discerneth thee in the glass of thy holy works 
 and word. Though we are sinners, and unworthy, and 
 cannot touch those holy things, without the marks of our 
 pollution ; yet we have a gi'eat High Priest with thee, who 
 was separated from sinners, holy, harmless, and undefiled, 
 who appeareth for us, in the merits of his spotless life and 
 sacrifice, and by whose hands only we dare presume to pre- 
 sent a sacrifice to the most holy God. And thou hast or- 
 dained this day of holy rest, as a tj^e and means of that 
 heavenly rest with the triumphant church to which we as- 
 pire, and for which we hope. Thou didst accept their lower 
 praise on earth, before they celebrated thy praise in glorj' : 
 accept ours also by the same Mediator. 
 
 Glory be to thee, O God, in the highest : on earth peace, 
 good-will towards men. Holy, holy, holy. Lord God Al- 
 mighty, who wast, and art, and art to come ; eternal, with- 
 out beginning or end ; unmense, ■vvithout all bounds or mea- 
 sure ; the infinite Spirit, Father, Word, and Holy Ghost ; 
 -the infinite Life, Understanding, and "\^'LL1, infinitely power- 
 iuL, wise, and good ; of thee, and through thee, and to thee 
 are aU things ; to thee be glory for evermore. All thy 
 works declare thy glorj* ; for thy glorious perfections appear 
 on alL, and for thy glory, and the pleasure of thy holy will, 
 flidst thou create them. The heavens, and aU the hosts 
 thereof; the sun, and all the glorious stars ; the fire, with 
 its motion, li^ght, and heat ; the earth, and all that dwell 
 ihereon, with all its sweet and beauteous ornaments ; the 
 air, and all the meteors ; the gi'eat deeps, and all that swim 
 therein ; all are the preachers of thy praise, and shew forth 
 the great Ci^eator's glory. How great is that power which
 
 A CALL. TO THE UXCON'A'ERTED. 185 
 
 made so great a world of notlimg ; wliicli ■with wonderful 
 swiflness moved those great and glorious luminaries, which 
 in a moment send forth the influences of their motion, light, 
 and heat, through all the air, to sea and earth ! Thy power- 
 ful life giveth life to all ; and preserveth this fi'ame of natra-e 
 which thou hast made. How glorious is that wisdom wliich 
 ordereth all thuigs, and assigneth to all their place and 
 office, aad by its perfect law maintaineth the beauty and 
 harmony of all! how glorious is that goodness and love, 
 which made all good and very good ! 
 
 We praise and gloiily thee, om* Lord and Owner ; for we 
 and all things are thine own. AVe praise and gloiii}' thee, 
 our King and Ruler ; for we are thy subjects, and our per- 
 fect obedience is thy due : just are all thy laws and judgments ; 
 true and sure is all thy word. "We praise and glorifj^ thee, our 
 great Benefactor; ui thee we live, and move, and are; all 
 that we are, or have, or can do, is wholly fi'om thee, the 
 Cause of all ; and all is for thee, for thou art our End. 
 Dehghtflilly to love thee, is our gi-eatest duty, and our only 
 felicity; for thou art love itself, and infinitely amiable. 
 
 "WTien man by sin did turn away his heart fk-om thee, be- 
 lieved the tempter against thy truth, obeyed liis senses against 
 thy authority and wisdom, and forsaking thy fatherly love 
 and goodness, became an idol to himself, thou didst not use 
 him according to his desert: when we forsook thee, thou 
 didst not utterly forsake us ; when we had lost om-selves, 
 and by sin became thme enemies, condemned by thy law, 
 thy mercy pitied us, and gave us the promise of a Redeemer, 
 who in the fulness of time did assume our natm-e, fulfilled 
 thy law, and suffered for oiu* sins, and conqueiing death, did 
 rise again, ascended to heaven, and is our glorified Head and 
 Intercessor. Him hast thou exalted to be a Prince and Sa- 
 ■\-iour, to give us repentance and remission of sins. In hun 
 thou hast given pardon and justification, reconcihation and 
 adoption, by a covenant of gi'ace, to every penitent behever. 
 Of enemies, and the heii's of death, thou hast made us sons 
 and heirs of life. 
 
 We are the brands whom thou hast plucked out of the
 
 186 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 
 
 fire ; we are the captives of Satan -whom thou hast redeemed ; 
 we are the condemned sinners whom thou hast pardoned : 
 we praise thee, we glorify thee, our merciful God, and gra- 
 cious Redeemer. Our souls have now refuge fi-om thy re- 
 venging ^n-ath. Thy promise is sure : Satan, and the world, 
 and death are overcome ; our Lord is risen ; he is risen, 
 and we shall rise through him. O death, where is thy sting! 
 O grave, where is thy victory ! Our Saviour is ascended to 
 his Father and our Father, to liis God and our God ; and 
 we shall ascend ; to his hands we may commit our departing 
 souls : our Head is glorified, and it is his will and promise 
 that we shall be with him where he is to see his gloiy ; he 
 hath sealed us thereunto by his Holy Spu-it : we were dead 
 in sins, and he hath qiiickened us ; we were dark in igno- 
 rance and unbelief, and he hath enlightened us ; we were 
 unholy and carnal, sold under sin, and he hath sanctified our 
 wills, and killed our concupiscence. We praise and glorify 
 this Spirit of life, -with the Father and the Son, from whom 
 he is sent to be life, and light, and love to our dead, and 
 dark, and disaffected souls. We are created, and redeemed, 
 and sanctified for thy holy love, and praise, and ser\"ice : O 
 let these be the very nature of our souls, and the employ- 
 ment and pleasure of all our lives ! O, perfect thy weak and 
 languid gi'aces in us, that oiu' love and praise may be more 
 perfect ! We thank thee for thy word, and sacred ordi- 
 nances, for the comfort of the holy assemblies and commu- 
 nion of the saints, and for the mercy of these thy holy days. 
 But let not thy praise be here confined ; but be our daily 
 life, and bread, and work. 
 
 Fain we would praise thee with more holy and more joy- 
 ful souls. But how can we do it with so weak a faith, and 
 so gi'eat darkness and strangeness to thee ? with so little 
 assurance of thy favour and our salvation ? Can we rightly 
 thank thee for the grace which we are still in doubt of? Fain 
 we would be liker to those blessed souls who praise thee with- 
 out our fears and dulness. But how can it be, while we 
 love thee so little, and have so little taste and feeling of thy 
 love ? and whilst this load of sin doth press us down, and
 
 A CALL TO THE UXCOWERTED. 187 
 
 we are imprisoned in the remnant of our carnal affections ? 
 O kill this pride and selfishness, these lusts and passions. 
 Destroy this unbelief and darkness, and all our sins, which 
 are the enemies of us, and of thy praise. Make us more 
 holy and heavenly : and O bring us nearer thee in faith and 
 love, that we may be more suitable to the heavenly employ- 
 ment of thy praise. 
 
 Vouchsafe more of thy Spirit to all thy churches and ser- 
 vants in the world : that as their darkness and selfishness, 
 and imperfections have defiled, and di\ided, and weakened 
 them, and made them a scandal and hardening to infidels ; 
 so their knowledge, self-denial, and impai'tial love, may 
 truly refoi-m, imite, and strengthen them : that the glory of 
 their holiness may win the unbelie-ving world to Christ. O 
 let not Satan keep up still so large a kingdom of tjTanny, 
 ignorance, and wickedness in the earth, and make this woi'ld 
 as the suburbs of hell : but let the earth be more conform- 
 able to heaven, in the glorif)4ng of thy holy name, the ad- 
 vancing of thy kingdom, and the doing of thy just and holy 
 will. Let thy way be known upon earth, and th}- sa\ing 
 health among all nations. Let the people praise thee, O 
 God, let all the people praise thee ! Yea, give thy Son the 
 heathen for his inheritance, and let his gospel enlighten the 
 dark, forsaken nations of the earth. Let every knee boAvto 
 him, and every tongue confess that he is Christ, to their sal- 
 vation and thy glory. Pro\'ide and send forth the messen- 
 gers of thy grace through all the earth. Deliver all the 
 churches fi:om sin, di\'ision, and oppression. Let thy holy 
 word and worship continue in these Idngdoms, whilst this 
 world endureth. Bless the queen, and all in authority, with 
 all that Avisdom, justice, and holiness, which are neediul to 
 her own and her subjects' safety, peace, and welfare. Let 
 every congregation among us have burning and shining 
 lights, that the ignorant and ungodly perish not for want of 
 teaching and exhortation : and open men's hearts to receive 
 thy word, and cause them to know the day of their visita- 
 tion. Be merciful to the afilicted, in sickness, dangers, wants, 
 or sorrows, according to thy goodness and theii' necessities.
 
 188 A CALL TO THE UXCON^^ERTED. 
 
 Let all tlie prayers and praises of the faitlifiil tLrougbont 
 tlie world, sent up tliis day in tlie name of our common 
 Mediator, by him be presented acceptable unto thee ; not- 
 ■vvithstanding the imperfections and blemishes that are ou 
 them, and the censm'es, divisions, and injuries, -which in their 
 frowardness they are guilty of against each other : let them 
 enter as one in Chiist our Head, who are too sadly and 
 stiffly distant among themselves. Prepare us all for that 
 world of peace, where the harmony of universal love and 
 praise shall never be interrupted by sins, or griefs, or fears, 
 or discord ; but shall be everlastingly perfect to our joy and 
 to thv glors', through our oloiified Mediator, who taught us 
 when we pray to saj-. Our Father, which art in heaven. 
 Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be 
 done on earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our 
 daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive 
 them that trespass against us. And lead us not into temp- 
 tation, but deliver us fi'om evU : for thine is the kingdom, 
 the power, and the glor\', for ever. Amen. 
 
 A sJiort Prayer for Clnldren and Servants. 
 
 Ever-liAong and most gi'acious God, Father, Son, and 
 Holy Ghost ! infinite is thy power, thy wisdom and thy 
 goodness ! Thou art the Maker of all the world, the Re- 
 deemer of lost and sinful man, and the Sanctifier of the 
 elect ! Thou hast made me a li\-ing, reasonable soul, placed 
 awhile in this flesh and world to know, and love, and sers-e 
 thee, my Creator, with all my heart, and mind, and strength, 
 that I might obtain the reward of the heavenly glory. This 
 should have been the gi'eatest care, and business, and pleasure 
 of aU my life : I was bound to it by thy law ; I was invited 
 by thy mercy. And in my baptism I was devoted to this holy 
 life, by a solemn covenant and vow. But, alas, I have proved 
 too unfaithful to that covenant ; I have forgotten and ne- 
 glected the God, the Sa^-iour, and the Sanctifier, to whom I 
 was engaged ; and have too much served the devil, the
 
 A CALL TO THE UNCOXVEKTED. 189 
 
 world, and flesh, Avhich I renounced : I was born in sin, 
 and siniully I have lived. I have been too careless of my 
 immortal soul, and of the great work for which I was cre- 
 ated and redeemed ; I have spent much of my precious 
 time ill vanity, in minding and pleasing this corruptible 
 flesh ; and I have hardened my heart against those instruc- 
 tions, by which thy Spu'it, and my teachers, and my own 
 conscience, did call upon me to repent and tm-n to thee. 
 
 And now. Lord, my convinced soul doth confess, that I 
 have deserved to be forsaken by thee, and given over to my 
 lust and foUj', and to be cast out of thy glorious presence into 
 damnation. But seeing thou hast given a Sa\'iour to the 
 world, and made a pardoning and gracious law, promismg 
 forgiveness and salvation through his merits, to every true 
 penitent behever, I thankfully accept the mercy of thy cove- 
 nant in Christ ; I himibly confess my sin and guiltmcss ; I 
 cast my miserable soul upon thy grace, and the merits and 
 sacrifice, and intercession of my Sariour. O pardon idl the 
 sins of my con'upted heart and life ; and as a reconciled 
 Father, take me to be thy child ; and give me thy rene^ving 
 Spirit, to be in me a principle of holy life, and Ught, and love, 
 and thy seal and ^vitness that I am thine. Let him quicken 
 my dead and hardened heart ; let him enlighten my dai-k, 
 unbelieving mind by clearer knowledge and firm belief; let 
 him tm-n my will to the ready obedience of thy holy will ; 
 let him reveal to my soul the wonders of thy love in Chi'ist, 
 and fill it with love to thee and my Redeemer, and to all 
 thy holy word and works, till all my sinful, carnal love be 
 quenched in me, and my sinful pleasures turned into a sweet 
 delight in God : give me self-deriial, humility, and lowliness, 
 and save me fi-om the gi-eat and hatefiil sins of selfishness, 
 worldliness, and pride. O set my heart upon the heavenly 
 glory, where I hope ere long to five with Christ and all 
 his holy ones, in the jojful sight, and love, and praise of 
 thee, the God of love, for ever. Deny me not any of those 
 helps and mercies, which are needful to my sanctification 
 and salvation. And cause me to five in a continual readi- 
 ness for a safe and comfortable death. For what would it
 
 190 A CALL TO THE UXCOXVERTED. 
 
 profit me to win all the world, and lose iny soul, my Sa- 
 vioiu*, and my God ? 
 
 Additions for Children. 
 
 Let thy blessing be upon my parents and governors, 
 cause them to instruct and educate me in thy fear ; and cause 
 me -with thankfulness to receive their instructions, and to 
 love, honour, and obey them in obedience to thee. Keep 
 me ti'om the snares of evil company, temptations, and youth- 
 ful pleasures, and let me be a companion of them that fear 
 thee. Let my daily delight be to meditate on thy law ; and 
 let me never have the mark of the ungodly, to be a lover of 
 pleasures more than of God. Furnish my youth Avith those 
 treasiu-es of wsdom and holiness, wfiich may be daily in- 
 creased and used to thy glor}-. 
 
 Additions for Servants. 
 
 And as thou hast made me a servant, make me conscion- 
 able and faithfid in my place and trust, and carefid of my 
 master's goods and business, as I woujd be if it were my 
 OAvn. ]\Iake me submissive and obedient to my governors ; 
 keep me li-om self-will and pride, from murmuring and ir- 
 reverent speeches, from falsehood, slothfulness, and all deceit. 
 That I might not be an eye-servant, pleasmg my lust and 
 fleshly appetite ; but may cheerfully and wiUingly do my 
 duty, as believing that thou art the revenger of all mifaith- 
 fubiess ; and may do my service not only as unto man, but 
 as to the Lord, expecting from thee my chief reward. 
 
 All this 1 beg and hope for, on the account of the merits 
 and intercession of Jesus Christ, concluding in the words 
 which he hath taught us : Our Father, which art in heaven, 
 Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be 
 done on earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our 
 daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive
 
 A CALL TO THE L'XCONVERTED. 191 
 
 them tliat tresspass against us. And lead us not into temp- 
 tation, but deliver us from evil ; for thine is the kingdom, 
 the power, and the glory, tor ever. Amen. 
 
 A Prayer for the JSIondnrj^ in the method of the Lord\<i 
 Praijer, hciny but an Exposition of it. 
 
 Most glorious God, Avho art power, and wisdom, and 
 goodness itself, the Creator of all things ; the Owner, the 
 Ruler, and the Benefactor of the world, but especially of 
 thy church, and chosen ones. Though by sin original and 
 actual we were thy enemies, the slaves of Satan and om- 
 flesh, and under thy displeasui'e and the condemnation of 
 thy law ; yet thy children, redeemed by Jesus Ckrist thy 
 Son, and regenerated by thy Holy Spirit, have leave to call 
 thee theii' reconciled Father. For by thy covenant of gi'ace, 
 thou hast given them thy Son to be their Head, their 
 Teacher, and then* Saviour. And in him thou hast pardon- 
 ed, adopted, and sanctified them ; sealing and preparing 
 them b}' thy Holy Spirit for thy celestial kingdom, and be- 
 ginning in them that holy lile, and light, and love, which 
 shall be perfected with thee in everlasting glory. Oh with 
 what wondi'ous love hast thou loved us, that of rebels we 
 sliould be made the sons of God I Thou hast advanced us 
 to this dignity, that we might be devoted wholly to thee as 
 thine own, and might dehglittully obey thee, and entirelv 
 lo\'e thee with all our heart I And so might gloi'ity thee 
 here and for ever. 
 
 O cause both us, and all thy churches, and all the world, 
 to hallow thy gi-eat and holy name ! And to live to thee 
 as our ultimate end I that thy shumig image on holy souls 
 may glorifv thy divine perfection. 
 
 And cause both us and all the earth, to cast off the ty- 
 ranny of Satan and the llesh, and to acknowledge thy 
 supreme autiiority, and to become the Idngdoms of thee and 
 thy Son Jesus, by a willing and absolute subjection. O
 
 192 A C-VLL TO THE UXCONVEETED. 
 
 perfect thy kingdom of gi'ace in ourselves and in the world, 
 and hasten the kingdom of glon-. 
 
 And cause us and thy churches, and all people of the 
 earth, no more to be ruled by the lusts of the flesh, and 
 their erroneous conceits, and by self-'nill, which is the idol 
 of the wicked : but by thy perfect wisdom and holy inil 
 revealed in thy laws, make known thy word to all the 
 world, and send them the messengers of grace and peace ; 
 Hud cause men to understand, believe, and obey the gospel 
 of salvation. And that, with such holiness, miity, and love, 
 that the earth, which is now too lilce to hell, may be made 
 like unto heaven ; and not only thy scattered, imperfect 
 flock, but those also who in their carnal and ungodly minds 
 do now refuse a holy hfe, and think thy words and ways too 
 strict, may desu-e to imitate even the heavenly church ; 
 where thou art obeyed, and loved, and praised, with high 
 delight, in harmony and perfection. 
 
 And because our being is the subject of our weU-being, 
 maintain us in the life which thou hast here given us, until 
 the work of life be finished ; and give us such health of 
 mind and body, and such protection and supply of aU our 
 wants, as shall best fit us for our duty ; and make us con- 
 tented with our daily bread, and patient if we want it. And 
 save us fi-om the love of riches, honours, and pleasures of 
 this world, and the pride, and idleness, and sensuality which 
 they cherish ; and cause us to serve thy proridence by our 
 diligent labour, and to serve thee faithfully \rith all that 
 thou givest us ; and let us not make provision for the flesh, 
 to satisfy its desires and lusts. 
 
 And Ave boseecli thee of thy mercy, through the sacrifice 
 and proiiltiatlon of thy beloved Son, forgive us all our sins, 
 original and actual, fi'om our birth to this hour; our omis- 
 sions of duty, and committing of wliat thou didst forbid ; 
 our sins of heart, and word, and deed ; our sinful thoughts 
 and affections, our sinful passions and discontents ; our 
 secret and our open sins; our sins of negligence, and ignor- 
 ance, and rashness ; but especially our sins agamst know-
 
 A CALL TO THE UXCOXVF.RTED. 193 
 
 ledge and conscience, which have made the deepest guilt 
 and wounds. Spare us, O Lord, and let not our sin so 
 lind us out as to be our ruin ; but let us so find it out as 
 truly to repent and turn to tlice ! Especially punish us not 
 with the loss of thy gi-ace ! Take not thy Holy Spu'it from 
 us. and deny us not his assistance and holy operations. Seal 
 to us by that Spiiit the pardon of our sms, and lift up the 
 light of thy countenance upon us, and give us the joy of thy 
 favour and salvation. And let thy love and mercy to us fill 
 us not only with thankfulness to thee, but with love and 
 mercy to our brethren and our enemies, that we may 
 heartily forgive them that do us wrong, as through thy grace 
 we hope to do. 
 
 And for the time to come, sufier us not to cast ourselves 
 wilfully into temptations, but carefiilly to avoid them, and 
 resolutely to resist and conquer what we cannot avoid ; 
 and O mortify those inward sins and lusts, which are our 
 constant aud most dangerous temptations. And let us not' 
 be tempted by Satan or the world, or tried by thy judg- 
 ments, above the strength which thy grace shall give us. 
 Save us fi'om a fearless confidence in our own strength ; 
 and let us not dally with the snare, nor taste the bait, nor 
 play with the fire of Avi'ath. But cause us to fear and de- 
 part from evil ; lest before we are aware, we be entangled 
 and overcome, and wounded with our guilt and with thy 
 ^vrath, and our end should be worse than our beginning. 
 Especially save us fi'om those radical sins of en'or and un- 
 belief, pride, hj-pocrisy, hard-heartedness, sensuality, sloth- 
 fulness, and the love of this present world, and the loss of 
 our love to thee, to thy kingdom, and thy ways. 
 
 And save us from the malice of Satan and of wicked 
 men, and from the evils which our sins would brmg upon 
 us. 
 
 And as we crave all tliis from thee, we humbly tender 
 t'ur praises with our future service to thee ! Thou art tlie 
 King of all the world, and more than the fife of all the 
 livuig ! Thy kingdom is everlasting ; wise, and just, and 
 merciful, is thy government. Blessed are they that are 
 
 X
 
 194 A C-\XL TO THE f^N'COX^-ERTED. 
 
 faithful subjects ; but who hatlx hardened himself against 
 thee, and hath prospered ? The whole creation proclaimeth 
 thy perfection. But it is heaven where the blessed see thy 
 glory, and the glory of our Redeemer ; where the angels 
 and saints behold thee, admii-e thee, adore thee, love thee, 
 and praise thee with triumphant, joyful songs, the holy, 
 holy, holy God, the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, who 
 was, and is, and is to come ; of thee, and through thee, 
 and to thee are all things. To thee be glory for ever. 
 Amen. 
 
 The Creed. 
 
 I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of hea- 
 ven and earth : And in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our 
 Lord, TMio was conceived by the Holy Ghost, Born of the 
 Virgin Mary, Suffered under Pontius Pilate, Was crucified, 
 dead, and buried ; He descended into hell ; The third day 
 he rose again from the dead ; He ascended into heaven, 
 And sitteth on the right hand of God, the Father Almiglity ; 
 From thence he shall come to judge the quick and tlie dead. 
 I believe in the Holy Ghost ; The Holy Catholic Church ; 
 The communion of saints ; Tlie forgiveness of sins ; The re- 
 surrection of the body ; And the life everlasting. Amen. 
 
 77/e Ten Commandments. 
 
 I. I am the Lord thy God which have brought thee out 
 of the land of Eg}'}it, out of the house of bondage. Thou 
 shalt have no other gods before me. 
 
 II. Thou slialt not make unto thee any graven image, or 
 any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is 
 in the earth beneatli, or that is in the water under the earth : 
 thoTi shalt not bow down tliyself to them, nor serve them : 
 for I the Lord thy God am a jealous God, visiting the ini- 
 quity of the fathers upon the children luito the third and
 
 A C.\IX TO THE rXCON VERTED. 195 
 
 fourth generation of them that hate me ; and sliewing mercy 
 unto thousands of them that love me and keep my command- 
 ments. 
 
 III. Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God 
 in vain ; for the Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh 
 his name in vain. 
 
 IV. Remember the sabbath-day, to keep it holy. Six 
 days shalt thou labour and do all thy work : but the seventh 
 day is the sabbath of the Lord thy God : in it thou shalt not 
 do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy man- 
 sei^vant, nor thy maid-servant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger 
 that is within thy gates : for in six days the Lord made 
 heaven and eiuth, the sea, and all that m them is, and 
 rested the seventh day : wherefore the Lord blessed the 
 sabbath-day and hallowed it. 
 
 V. Honom* thy father and thy mother, that thy days 
 may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God givetb 
 thee. 
 
 VI. Thou shalt not kill. 
 
 VIL Thou shalt not commit adidterj'. 
 
 VIII. Thou shalt not steal. 
 
 IX. Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neigh- 
 bour. 
 
 X. Tliou shalt not covet thy neighbour's house, thou 
 shalt not covet thy neighboiu-'s wife, nor his man-servant, 
 nor his maid-servant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing 
 that is thy neighbour's.
 
 THE 
 
 LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER; 
 
 HIS PASSING PRAYER 
 
 RCC0>:)I£S-DINO UIS DEPARTINO SPIRIT TO CHRIST, TO BZ EECIIVED TV HIM 
 
 r, tpared for tkf Funrral of Mary the Kidof, first of Francis Charltan, £sq.. and afler q/ 
 
 7Aoinfi> Jlanmer, El<l.; and partly preached at St Mary Ma^dnltu'a 
 
 Church, in Milk Street, London, and nmr, at the desire of her 
 
 Daughter, before her death, reprinted.
 
 TO THE READER. 
 
 Reader, 
 
 The person whose death did occasion this discourse was 
 one that about five }-ears ago removed from her ancient 
 habitation, at Appley, in Shropshire, to liidderniinster, 
 where she lived under my pastoral care tUl I was come up 
 to London ; and before she had lived there a twelvemonth 
 (for thither she removed) she died of the fever, then very 
 common in the city. She lived among us an example of 
 prudence, gravity, sobriety, righteousness, piety, chiirity, 
 and self-denial, and was truly what I have described her to 
 be, and nmch more; for I use not to flatter the living, 
 much less the dead. And though I had personal acquaint- 
 ance with her for no longer a time than I have mentioned, 
 yet I think it wortliy the mentioning, which I understand 
 V)y comparing lier last years Avith what is said of her former 
 time, by tliose that were then nearest to her, and so were 
 at her death, that whereas (as I have said) sudden passion 
 was the sin that she was wont much to complain of, she had 
 not contented herself with mere complainings, but so elTec- 
 tually resisted them, and apphed God's remedies for the 
 healing of her nature, that the success was very much ob- 
 served by those about her, and tlic change and cure so great 
 herein, as was a comfort to her nearest relations that iiad 
 the benefit of her converse ; wliith I mention as a tlung 
 that shews us, 1. That even the infirmities that are found 
 in nature and temperature of body are curat)le, so far as 
 they fall under the dominion of a sanctified will. '2. That
 
 200 TO THE READER. 
 
 even in age, when such passions usually get. ground, and in- 
 firmities of mind increase with infirmities of body, yet grace 
 can effectually do its work. 3. That to attend God in his 
 means, for the subduing of any corruption, is not in vain. 
 4. That as God hath promised gro-\vth of grace, and flourish- 
 ing in old age, so in his way we may expect the fulfilling of 
 his promise. 5. That as grace increaseth, infirmities and 
 corruptions of the soul will vanish. 
 
 This makes me call to mind that she was once so much 
 taken with a sermon which I preached at the fimeral of ia 
 holy aged woman,* and so sensibly ofl recited the text it- 
 self as much affecting her — " For which cause we faint not ; 
 but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is 
 renewed day by day," &c. 2 Cor. iv. 16, 17 ; that I am 
 persuaded both the text itself, and the example opened 
 (and well known) to her, did her much good. 
 
 Her work is done, her enemies are conquered (except 
 the remaining fruits of death upon a corrupting body, which 
 the resurrection must conquer), her danger, and temptations, 
 and troubles, and fears, are at an end. She shall no more 
 be discomfited with evil tidings ; nor no more partake with 
 a militant church in the sorrows of her diseases or distresses. 
 We are left Avithin the reach of Satan's assaults and maUce, 
 and of the rage and Aaolence which pride, and faction, and 
 Cainish en-sy, and enmity to serious holiness, do ordinarily 
 raise against Christ's followers in the world. AVe are lefl 
 among the lying tongues of slanderous, malicious men, and 
 dwell in a wihh^rncss among scorpions ; where the sons of 
 Belial, lilve Na})al, are such that a man cannot speak to 
 them, 1 Sam. xxv. 17. The best of them is as a brier, 
 the most upright sharper than a thorn hedge, Mic. vii. 4. 
 " But the sons of BeUal shall be all of them as thorns 
 
 * Good olil Mrs Douphty, sometime of Shrewsbury," '^h" had long 
 walked with God and lonpcd to he with him, and was among us an ex- 
 cellent example of lioliniss, hlamclessiiess, contempt of the world, con- 
 stancy, piiticncc, liuinility, and {which makes it strange) a great and con- 
 i-tant desire to die, though she was still complaining of doubtings, and 
 weakness of assurance.
 
 TO THE RK.^DER. 201 
 
 thrust away, because they cannot be taken with hands ; but 
 the man that shall touch them must be fenced with iron, 
 and the staff of a spear, and they shall be utterly burned 
 with fire in the same place," 2 Sam. xxiii. 6, 7. We are 
 left among our weak, distempered, sinful, afflicted, lament- 
 ing friends ; the sight of whose calamities, and participation 
 of their sufferings, maketh us feel the strokes that fall upon 
 so great a number, that we are never like to be fi'ee from 
 pain. But she is entered into the land of peace, where 
 pride and faction are shut out ; where serpentine enmity, 
 malice, and ftiry, never come ; where there is no Cain to 
 en-ty and destroy us ; no Sodomites to rage against us, and 
 in their blindness to assault our doors ; no Ahithophels to 
 plot our ruin ; no Judas to betray us ; no false -natnesses to 
 accuse us ; no TertuUus to point us out as pestilent fellows, 
 and movers of sedition among the people ; no Rehum, 
 Shimshai, or their society, to persuade the rulers that the 
 servants of the God of heaven are hurtful unto kings, and 
 against their interest and honom*, Ezi-a iv. 9, 12-14, 22 ; 
 v. 1 1 ; no rabble to cr>', " Away with them, it is not fit 
 that they should live ;" no Demas that ^-ill forsake us for 
 the love of present things ; no such contentious, censorious 
 fi-iends as Job's to afflict us, by adding to our affliction ; no 
 cursed Ham to dishonour parents ; no ambitious, rebel- 
 lious Absalom to molest us, or to lament ; no sinfid, scanda- 
 lous, or impatient friends to be our grief: and, which is more 
 than all, no earthly, sinful inclinations in ourselves ; no pas- 
 sions or infirmities ; no languishings of soul ; no deadness, 
 dulness, hard-heartedness, or weaknesses of grace ; no back- 
 wardness to God, or estrangedness from him, nor fears or 
 doubtings of his love, nor frowns of his displeasure. None 
 of these do enter into that serene and holy region, nor ever 
 interrupt the joy of saints. 
 
 The great work is yet upon our hands, to fight out the 
 good fight, to finish our course, to run with patience the 
 remainder of the race that is before us ; and as we must 
 look to Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith, as our 
 great Exemplar, so must we look to his saints and martyrs
 
 202 TO THE EEADEl?. 
 
 as our encouraging examples under him. Put the case you 
 were now djing (and oh, how near is it, and how, sure) ! 
 what would you need most, if the day were come ? That is it 
 that you need most now. Look after it speedily while you 
 have time. Look after it seriously, if you have the hearts of 
 men, and sin have not turned you into idiots or blocks. 
 What a disgrace is it to mankind, to hear men commonly 
 at death cry out. Oh! for a little more time. And, 
 Oh ! for the opportunities of grace again. And, Oh ! 
 how shall I enter upon eternity thus unprepared? as 
 if they had never heard or known that they must die till 
 now. Had you not a life's time to put these questions? 
 And should you not long ago have got them satisfactorily 
 resolved? And justly doth God give over some to that 
 greater shame of human nature, as not to be called to their 
 wits, even by the approach of death itself ; but as they con- 
 temned everlasting life in theu* health, God justly leaveth 
 them to be so sottish as to venture presumptuously with 
 um'enewed souls upon death ; and the conceit that they are 
 of the right church, or party, or opinion, or that the priest 
 hath absolved them, doth pass -n-ith them for the necessary 
 preparation ; and Avell it were for them if these would pass 
 them currently mto heaven. But, oh, what heart can now 
 conceive how terrible it is for a new-departed soul to find 
 itself remedilessly disappointed, and to be shut up in flames 
 and desperation, before they would believe that they were 
 in danger of it ! 
 
 Reader, I beseech thee, as ever thou believest that thou 
 must shortly die, retire from the crowd and noise of worldly 
 vanity and vexation. O, bethink thee, how Uttle a while 
 thou must be here, and have use for honour, and favour, 
 and wealth ; and what it is for a soul to pass into heaven or 
 hell, and to dwell among angels or de\'ils for ever ; and how 
 men should live, and watch, and pray, that are near to such 
 a change as this. Should I care what men call me (by 
 tongue or pen), should I care whether I live at liberty or in 
 prison, when I am ready to die, and have matters of infinite 
 moment before me to take me up? Honoiu* or dishonour.
 
 TO THE READER. 203 
 
 liberty or pnson, are words of no sound or signification, 
 scarce to be heard or taken notice of, to one of us that are 
 just passing to God, and to everlasting life. The Lord have 
 mercy upon the distracted world! How strangely doth the 
 devil befool them in the daylight, and make them needlessly 
 trouble themselves about many things, when one thing is 
 needful; and heaven is talked of (and that but heartlessly and 
 seldom), while fleshly provision only is the piize, the pleasure, 
 the business of their lives. Some are diverted fi-om their 
 serious pre])aration for death by the beastly avocations of 
 lust, and gaudiness, and meats, and drmks, and childish 
 sports ; and some by the busmesses of ambition and covet- 
 ousness, contri^^ng how to feather their nests, and exercise 
 their wills over others in the world! And some that wiU 
 seem to be doing the work, are diverted as dangerously as 
 others, by contending about formalities and ceremonies, and 
 destroying charity and peace ; rending the church, and 
 strengthening factions, and caiTjdng on interests hA-pocriti- 
 cally under the name of religion, till the zeal that St James 
 describeth (James iii. 13, 14, &c.), ha\ing consumed all 
 that was like to the zeal of love and holiness in themselves, 
 proceed to consume the servants and interest of Chiist about 
 them, and to bite and devour, till their Lord come and find 
 them in a day that they looked not for him, smiting theu* 
 fellow-servants, and eating and drinking Avith the drunken, 
 and cut them asunder, and appoint them their portion with 
 the hj'pocrites, where shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. 
 Matt. xxiv. 49-51. 
 
 stud}', and preach, and hear, and pray, and live, and 
 use your brethren that differ fi'om you in some opinions, as 
 you would do if you were going to receive yoiu* doom, and 
 as will then be most acceptable to yom* Lord! The guilt 
 of sensuality, worldliness, ambition, of uncharitablenoss, 
 cruelty, and injustice, of losing time, and betrapng your 
 souls by negligence, or perfidiousness, and wilful sin, wUl 
 lie hea-s-ier upon a departing soul, than now, in tlie drunken- 
 ness of prosperity, you can think. Christ wiU never receive 
 such souls hi their extremity, unless upon repentance, by
 
 204 TO TUE EEABER. 
 
 faith in his blootl, they are washed from this pollution. It 
 is unspeakably terrible to die, without a confidence tliat 
 Christ will receive us ; and little knows the graceless world 
 what sincerity and simplicity in holiness is necessary to the 
 soundness of such a confidence. 
 
 Let those that know not that tliey must die, oi' know of 
 no life hereafter, hold on then* chase of a feather, till tliey 
 find what they lost their fives, and souls, and labour for. 
 But if thou be a Christian, remember what is thy work : 
 thou wilt not need the favour of man, nor worldly wealth, 
 to prevail with Christ to receive thy spirit. O, learn thy 
 last work before thou art put upon the douig of it ! The 
 world of spirits, to which we are passing, doth better know 
 than this world of fleshly darkened sinnei-s, the great dif- 
 ference between the death of a lieavenly believer and of an 
 earthly sensuahst. BeUeve it, it is a tiling possible to get 
 that apprehension of the love of Christ, that confidence of 
 his receiving us, and such familiar, pleasant thoughts of our 
 entertainment by him, as shall much overcome the fears of 
 death, and make it a welcome day to us when we shall be 
 admitted into the celestial society: and the ditference be- 
 tween one man's death and another's, dependeth on the 
 diiTorence between heart and heart, life and life, preparation 
 and unpreparedness. 
 
 K you ask me, How may so happy a preparation be made? 
 I have told you in this following discourse, and more fully 
 elsewhere formerly. I shall add now these dii'cctions fol- 
 lowing. 
 
 1 . Follow the flattering world no further ; come off" from 
 all expectation of felicity below; enjoy nothing under the 
 sun, but onlj' use it in order to your enjo3-mcnt of the real, 
 sure delight; take heed of being too much pleased in the 
 creature. Have you houses, and lands, and oflices, and hon- 
 ours, and fi-iends, that are very plejising to you ? Take heed, 
 for that is the killing snare ! Shut your eyes, and Avink them 
 all into nothing ; and cast by your contrivances, and cares, 
 and fears, and remember you have another work to do. 
 
 2, Live in communion with a sufierine Christ : studv
 
 TO THE READER. 205 
 
 ■well the whole life and nature of his sufferings, and the rea- 
 son of them, and thuik how desirable it is to be conformed to 
 him. Thus, look to Jesus, that for the joy that was set 
 before him, despised the shame, endured the cross, and the 
 contradiction of sinners against himself. Dwell upon this 
 example, that the image of a humbled, suffering Christ, 
 being deeply imprinted on thy mind, may di-aw thy heart 
 into a juster relish of a mortified state. Sure he is no good 
 Christian that thinks it not better to Uve as Chi-ist did (in 
 holy poverty and sufferings In the world), than as Croesus, 
 or Ciesar, or any such worldling and self-pleaser Hved. Die 
 daily b}' folloAving Jesus with your cross, and when you 
 have a while suffered with him, he wdll make you perfect, 
 and receive yom- spuits, and you shall reign with him : It 
 wonderfully prepareth for a comfortable death to live In the 
 fellowship of the sufferings of Chi'ist. He Is most likely to 
 ilie quietly, patiently, and joyrally, that can fii'st be poor, 
 be neglected, be scorned, be wronged, be slandered, be im- 
 prisoned, quietly, patiently, and jo}-fully. If you were but 
 at Jerusalem, you would, with some love and pleasiure, go 
 up mount Olivet, and think, Christ went this very way. 
 You would love to see the place where he was born, the 
 way which he went when he carried his cross, the holy grave 
 where he was buried (where there Is a temple which pil- 
 grims use to visit, fi-om whence they use to brmg the mark 
 as a pleasing badge of honour) ; but how more of Christ Is 
 there in oiu* suffering for his cause and truth, and in follow- 
 ing him in a mortified, self-den}'ing life, than In following 
 him in the path that he hath trodden upon earth ! Ills 
 e;iemies saw his cross, his gi'ave ; his mother, his person. 
 This did not heal their sinful souls, and make them happy ; 
 but the cross that he calleth us to bear is a life of suflering 
 for righteousness' sake ; in which he commandeth us to re- 
 joice, and be exceeillngly glad, because our reward Is gi-eat 
 in heaven, though all manner of e^il be spoken of us falsely 
 by men on earth, Matt. v. 11, 12. This is called a being 
 partaker of Chnst's sufferings, in which we are commanded 
 to rejoice, " that, when his glory shall be revealed, we may
 
 206 TO THE READER. 
 
 he glad also witli exceeding joy," 1 Pet. iv. 13. And as 
 " the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so our consolation 
 aboundeth by Christ," 2 Cor. i. 6. Till we come up to a 
 life of willing mortification, and pleased, contented suffering 
 with Christ, we are in the lower form of his school, and, as 
 children, shall tremble at that which should not cause our 
 terror ; and, through misapprehensions of the case of a de- 
 parting soul, shall be afraid of that which should be our 
 joy. I am not such an enemy to the esteem of relics, but 
 if one could shew me the very stocks that Paul and Silas 
 sat in when they sung psalms in their imprisonment (Acts 
 xvi.), I could be contented to be put (for the Hke cause) 
 into the same stocks, with a special willingness and plea- 
 sure : how much more should we be willing to be conformed 
 to our suffering Lord in a sjiirit and life of true mortifica- 
 tion ! 
 
 3 . Hold communion also with his suffering members : 
 desire not to dwell in the tents of wickedness, nor to be 
 planted among them that flourish for a time, that may be 
 pestroyed for ever, Psal. xcii. 6, 7. I had rather have 
 Bradford's heart and faggot than Bonner's bishopric. It 
 was holy Stephen, and not those that stoned him, that saw 
 heaven opened, and the Son of man sitting at the right 
 hand of God (Acts vii. 56), and that could joyfully say, 
 " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." lie liveth not by faith 
 (though he may be a hanger-on that keepeth up some j)ro- 
 fession for fear of being damned) who chooseth not rather 
 to suffer affliction witli the people of God, than to enjoy 
 the pleasures of sin for a season ; and esteeineth not tlie 
 very reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of 
 the world, as having resjject to the recompence of reward, 
 Heb. xl. 25, 26. 
 
 4. Live as if heaven were open to }'our sight, and tlien 
 dote upon the delights of worldlings if you can ; then love 
 a life of flesldy ease and honour, better than to be with 
 Christ, If you can. But of this I have spoken at large in 
 other writings. 
 
 Christian, make It the study and business of thy life to
 
 TO THE READER. 207 
 
 learn to do tliy last work well, that work which must be 
 done but once ; that so death, which transmits unholy souls 
 into utter darkness and despair, may deliver thy spirit into 
 thy Redeemer's hands, to be received to his glory, accord- 
 ing to that blessed promise, John xii. 26. And while I 
 am in the flesh beg the same mercy for 
 
 Thy brother and companion in tribulation, and in the 
 kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ, 
 
 RICHARD BAXTER. 
 
 London^ Jan. 31, 1661.
 
 209 
 
 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." — Acts vii. 59. 
 
 The birth of nature, and the new bii-th of grace, in their 
 measure resemble the death of saints, which is the birth of 
 glory. It is a bitter-sweet day, a day that is mixed of sor- 
 row and joy, when nature must quit its famiHar guest, and 
 j-ield to any of these changes. Our natural birth is not 
 •without the throes, and pain, and groanings of the mother, 
 though it transmit the child into a more large, and light- 
 some, and desirable habitation. Our spiritual buili is not 
 without its humbling and heart -piercing soiTows ; and Avhen 
 we are brought out of darkness into the marvellous light, we 
 leave our old companions in displeasure, whom we forsake, 
 and our flesh repining at the loss of its sensual delights. 
 And our passage into glory is not without those pangs and 
 fears which must needs be the attendants of a pained body 
 ready to be dissolved, and a soul that is going through so 
 strait a door into a strange, though a most blessed place ; 
 and it leaveth our lamenting friends behind, that feel their 
 loss, and would longer have enjoyed our company, and see 
 not (though they believe) the glonf' of the departed soul. 
 And this is our case that are brought hither this day, by an 
 act of Pro\'idence sad to us, though joyous to our departed 
 friend ; by a voice that hath called her into glory, and call- 
 ed us into this mourning plight : even us that njoicc hi the 
 thoughts of her felicity, and are not so cruel as to wish her 
 again into this corruptible flesh, and calamitous world, from 
 
 o
 
 210 THE LAST WORK OF A BEOEVEE. 
 
 the glorious presence of the Lord ; and vet should have kept 
 hm* longer from it, for our ovm and others' sakes, if our wis- 
 dom had been fit to rule, or oiu* -wills to be fulfilled, or if 
 our prayers must have been answered, according to the 
 measure of our failing apprehensions or precipitant desires. 
 But folly must submit to the incomprehensible wisdom, and 
 the desire of the creature must stoop to the will of the 
 Creator. The interest of Christ must be preferred when he 
 calleth for his own, and our temporary interest must give 
 place : flesh must be silent and not contend, and dust must 
 not dare to question God ; he knoweth best when his fruit 
 is ripe, and though he will allow our moderate sorrows, he 
 will not so much injure his saints as to detain them with 
 us from then' joj-ful rest, till we are content to let them go. 
 
 Thus also did blessed Stephen depart from glory to glorj' ; 
 from a distant sight of the glorj' of God, and of Jesus stand- 
 ing at his right hand, into the immediate presence and 
 fruition of that glor}-. But yet he must pass the naiTOw port ; 
 enraged malice must stone him till he die ; and he must 
 imdergo the pains of mart}Tdom before he reach to the 
 glory which he had seen. And when he was arrived in 
 safety, he leaveth his brethren scattered in the storm, and 
 devout men make great lamentation at his burial, Acts viii. 
 2. Tliough it is probable by the ordinary acceptation of 
 the word avS^ss tlxalii't, that they were not professed 
 Christians, but devout prosel^-tes (such as Cornelius and the 
 JEthiopian eunuch were), that buried and thus lamented 
 Stephen, as knowing him to be an excellent person, cruelly 
 murdered by the raging Jews ; yet their example, in a case 
 not culpable, but commendal)le, may be imitated by be- 
 lievers, upon condition that, with our sense of the excellency 
 of the persons, and of our loss by their removal, we exceed 
 them that had but a darker revelation hi our joj-ful sense of 
 the felicity of the translated souls. 
 
 The occasion of the death of this holy man was partly 
 that he surpassed others, as being full of faith, and of the 
 Holy Ghost ; and partly that he plainly rebuked the blind 
 and furious persecuting Kcal of the Jews, and bore a most
 
 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 211 
 
 resolute testimony of Christ. It is an ill time when men 
 must suffer because they are good, and deserve not suffer- 
 ing, but reward ; and they are an unhappy people that have 
 no more grace or wit but to fight against heaven, and set 
 themselves under the strokes of God's severest justice, by 
 persecuting them that are dear to Christ, and faithfully per- 
 form their duty. It is no strange thing for the zeal and 
 interest of a faction to make men mad ; so mad as impla- 
 cably to rage against the offspring of heaven, and to hate 
 men because they are faithful to their great Master, and 
 because they are against theii* fiiction ; so mad as to think 
 that the interest of their cause requireth them to destroy 
 the best with the greatest malice, because they stand most 
 in their way, and to forget that Christ, the revenger of his 
 elect, doth take all as done to hiui that is done to them ; so 
 mad as to forgL-t all the terrible threatenings of God, and 
 terrible instances of his avenging justice against the enemies 
 of his servants, whom he taketh as his own ; and to ruin 
 their own reputations by seeking to defame the upright, 
 whose names God is engaged to honour, and whose righte- 
 ousness shall shine forth as the sun, when foohsh mahgnity 
 hath done its worst. ^\'Tien Christ had pleaded his cause 
 effectually witli Saul, that was one of the persecutors 
 of Stephen, he maketli him confess that he was vi^ircrus 
 i/ifixivo films, exceedingly, excessively, or beyond measure mad 
 against the Christians. 
 
 But this ])lessed protomartjT, in despite of malice, doth 
 safely and joyfully pass through aU their rage to heaven. 
 By killing him they make him more than conqueror, and 
 send him to receive his cro'ivn. And he shuts up all the 
 action of his life in imitation of his suffering Lord, with a 
 twofold request to Heaven, the one for liimself, that his 
 spirit may be received, the other for his persecutors, that 
 this sin may not be laid to their charge. Acts vii. 59, 60 ; 
 for so you may find Clirist did before him, " Father, for- 
 give them ; for tliey know not what they do ; " and, " Father, 
 into thy hands I conunend my spirit," Luke xxVu. 34, 46. 
 Only Christ directelh liis prater immediately to "the Father,
 
 212 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 and Stephen to Christ, as being one that had a mediator, 
 when Christ had none, as needing none ; and being now 
 bearing "witness, by liis suifering, to Christ, and therefore it 
 was seasonable to dii-ect his prayer to him ; but especially 
 because it was an act of mediation that he petitioneth for, 
 and therefore directeth his petition to the Mediator, 
 
 This first request of this djing saint, which I have chosen 
 to handle, as suitable and seasonable for our instruction at 
 this tune, in a few words containeth not a few exceeding 
 useful, wholesome truths. 
 
 As I. It is here plainly intimated that Jesus Christ is 
 exalted in glory, in that he hath power to receive departed 
 souls. 
 
 II. That Christ is to be prayed to, and that it is not our 
 duty to direct all our prayers only to the Father. Especially 
 those things that belong to the office of the Mediator, as in- 
 terceding for us in the heavens, must be requested of the 
 Mediator. And those things which belong to the Father to 
 give for the sake of the Mediator, must be asked of the 
 Father for his sake. I cannot now stay to tell you in par- 
 ticular what belongeth to the one, and what unto the other. 
 
 III. That man hatli a spirit as well as a body ; of which 
 more anon. 
 
 IV. That this spiiit dieth not with the body (unless you 
 will call a mere separation a djing.) 
 
 V. That Christ doth receive the spii-its of his saints when 
 they are separated from the body. 
 
 YI. That a dying Christian may confidently and com- 
 fortably commend his s])uit to Christ, to be received of 
 him. 
 
 VII. That prayer in general, and this praj'er in special, 
 That Christ will receive our departing souls, is a most suit- 
 able conclusion of all the actions of a Christian's hfe. 
 
 The first and second of tiiese doctrines, offered us by this 
 text, I shall ])ass by. 
 
 The third is not ([uestioned by any that knoweth himself 
 to be a man : but that we may understand it, and the rest, 
 we must consider what the word " spiiit" doth here sig-
 
 THE LAST ■WORK OF A BELIEVER. 213 
 
 iiiA . By " spirit" here, can be meant nothing but the 
 rational soul, which is the principal constitutive part of the 
 man. For though the ■word do sometimes signify the wind 
 or breath, and sometimes the moral and intellectual quah- 
 fications, and have divers other senses, I need not stay to 
 prove that it is not here so taken. Stephen prnveth not to 
 Christ to receive liis breath, his graces, or the Holy Ghost, 
 but to receive his rational, immoi'tal soul. 
 
 It is not only the soul, but God himself, that is called 
 " a Spirit : " and though the name be fetched fi-om lower 
 things, that is, because that as we have no adequate posi- 
 tive conception of God or spirits, so we can have no ade- 
 quate proper names for them, but must take up with bor- 
 rowed names, as answerable to our notions. 
 
 Sometimes the word spirit (as Heb. iv. 12, &c.) is dis- 
 tinguislied from the soul ; and then it either signifieth the 
 superior faculties in the same soul, or the same soul as ele- 
 vated by grace. 
 
 Do you ask, "V^Tiat the soul is ? You may also ask, "^Miat 
 a man is ? And it is pity that a man should not know what 
 a man is. It is our intellectual nature, containing also the 
 sensitive and vegetative : the principle, or first act, by which 
 we live, and feel, and understand, and freely vnl\. Tlie acts 
 tell you what the faculties or powers are, and so what the 
 soul is. If you know what intellection, or reason and free- 
 will are, you may know what it is to have a spiritual nature, 
 essentially containing the power of reasoning and willing. 
 It is thy soul by which thou art thinking and asking what a 
 soul is ; and as he that reasoneth to prove that man hath 
 no reason, doth prove that he hath reason by reasoning 
 against it ; so he that reasoneth to prove that he hath no 
 soul, doth thereby prove that he hath a reasonable (though 
 abused) soul. 
 
 Yet there are some so blind as to question whether they 
 have souls, l)ecause they see them not ; whereas if they 
 could see them ^^^th eyes of flesh they were no souls, for 
 spirits are inrisible. They see not thi^ air or wind, and yet 
 thoy know that air or wind there is. They sec not God or
 
 214 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 angels, and yet tliey are fools indeed if tliey doubt •whether 
 there be a God and angels. If they see not their eyes, yet 
 they know that they have eyes, because ■with those eyes they 
 see other thmgs. And if they know not dii-ectly and in- 
 tuitively tliat the)^ have rational souls, they might know it 
 b}' their knowing other things, which without such souls 
 cannot lie kno'wn. It is just with God that those thut live 
 as carnally, and brutishly, and neghgeutly, as if they had no 
 souls to use or care for, should at last be given up to ques- 
 tion whether they have souls or no. 
 
 O woefiil fell ! depraved natui-e ! O miserable men, that 
 have so for departed from God, as to deny both themselves 
 and God ! or to question whether God be God, and man be 
 man. Return to God, and thou wilt come to thyself For- 
 get not, man, th}' noble nature, thy chiefest part : think not 
 that thou art only shell, because thou seest not through the 
 shell. It is souls that converse by the bodies while they are 
 in flesh. It is thy soul that I am speaking to, and thy soul 
 that understandeth me. AVhen thy soul is gone, I wiU 
 speak to thee no more. It is thy soul that is the workman- 
 ship of God by an immediate or special way of fabrication. 
 " The souls which I have made," Isa. Ivii. 16. " He 
 breathed mto man the breath of life, and he became a Uv- 
 ing soul," Gen. ii. 7. It is thy soul that is said to be made 
 after God's image ; in that thou art ennobled with a capa- 
 cious understanding and free-will ; and it Ls thy soul that is 
 the immediate subject of his moral image, even spiritual 
 wisdom, righteousness, and hohness. God hath not hands, 
 and feet, and other members, as thy body hath. How 
 noble a nature is that which is capable of knowhig not only 
 things in the world (m its measure), but God himself, and 
 the things of the world that is to come ; and capable of 
 loving and cnjoyuig God, and of seeking and serving him 
 in order to that enjoyment ! Cin-ist thouglit not basely of a 
 soul that redeemed souls at such a price, when he made his 
 soul an offering for sin, Isa. hii. 10. Were it not for our 
 immortal souls, would God ever honour us with such rela- 
 tions to him as to be his children ? (For he is first the Fa-
 
 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 215 
 
 ther of spii'its (Heb. xii 9), and then the Father of saints.) 
 Should we be called the spouse and the members of Christ ? 
 would he be at so much cost upon us? should angels 
 attend us as ministering spirits, if we had not spirits fit to 
 minister to God ? Would the Spirit of God himself dwell in 
 us, and quicken and beautify us with his grace, should a 
 world of creatures (whose coi'poreal substance seems as ex- 
 cellent as ours) attend and sen'C us, if we were but an inge- 
 nious sort of brutes, and had not rational, immortal souls ? 
 Shoidd such store of mercies be prorided for us, should mi- 
 nisters be provided to pi'euch, and pray, and labour for us, 
 if we had not souls to save or lose? " They watch for your 
 souls as they that must give account," Heb. xiii. 17. Why 
 should they preach in season and out of season, and sufl'er 
 so much to perform their work, but that they know that 
 " he that Arinneth souls is TOse," Prov. xi. 30 ; and that 
 " he which converteth the sinner from the error of his way, 
 doth save a soul from death, and hide a multitude of sins," 
 James v. 20. The devil himself may tell you the worth of 
 souls when he compasseth the earth (Job i. 7), and goeth 
 about night and day to deceive them, and devour them 
 (1 Pet. V. 8), and yet can he make you believe that they 
 are so worthless as to be abused to the basest drudgery, to 
 be poisoned with sin and sensuality, to be ventm-ed for a 
 thing of nought ? 
 
 O sirs ! have you such immortal souls, and will you sell 
 them for a lust, for a beastly pleasure, for liberty to glut 
 your flesh, or for the price that Judas sold his Lord for? Is 
 thy soiU no more worth than honour, or wealth, or foolish 
 mirth ? Is thy soul so base as not to be worth the care and 
 lal)Our of a holy life ? Is the world worth all thy care and 
 labour, and shall less be called too much ado, when it is for 
 thy precious soul ? . Alas ! one would think by the careless, 
 fleshly lives of many, that they remember not that they have 
 souls. Have they not need, in the depth of their security, 
 in the height of tiieir ambition, and in tlie heat of fleshly 
 lusts, to have a monitor to call to them, Pemember that thou
 
 216 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 ait a man, and that tliou hast a soul to save or lose ? TMiat 
 thinkest thou of thy negligence and carnal life, when thou 
 readest that so holy a man as Paul must keep under his 
 body, and bring it into subjection, lest he should be a cast- 
 away after all his labours? 1 Cor. ix. 25-27. live not 
 as if the flesh were the man, and its pleasure your felicity ; 
 but live as those that have spirits to take care of. 
 
 Doct. IV. The spii'it of man doth survive the body ; it 
 dieth not wth it. It is not annihilated ; it is not resolved 
 into the essence of some common element of souls, where it 
 loseth its specific form and name. It was still the spu-it of 
 Stephen that was received by Christ. It sleepeth not. To 
 confute the dream of those that talk of the sleeping of souls, 
 or any lethargic, unintelHgent, or inactive state, of so excel- 
 lent, capacious, and active a nature, were but to dispute 
 ■vvith sleeping men. "When we say it is immortal, we mean 
 not that it, or any creature, hath in itself a self-supporting 
 or self-preser\ing sufficiency ; or that they are necessai-j- be- 
 ings, and not contingent ; or primitive beings, and not de- 
 rived fi'om anotlier by creation. We know that all the 
 world would turn to nothing in a moment if God did but 
 ^vithdraw his preserving and upholding influence, and but 
 suspend that will that doth continue them. lie need not 
 t'xert any positive Avill or act for theii' destruction or annihi- 
 lation. Though ejusdem est annihilare, cujus est creare, none 
 can annihilate but God ; yet it is by a positive, efficient act 
 of will that he createth ; and by a mere cessation of the act 
 of his preser\'ing Avill he can annihilate. I mean not by 
 any change in him, but by wilHng the continuance of the 
 creature but till such a j)criod ; but yet he that vnW perpe- 
 tuate the spirit of man, hath given it a nature (as he hath 
 done the angels) fit to be pcrj)t'tuated ; a nature not guilty 
 of composition and elementary materiality, which might sub- 
 ject it to corruption. So that as there is an ;iptitude in iron, 
 or silver, or gold to continue longer tlian grass, or flowers, or 
 flesh : and a reason of its duration may be given a natura 
 rei^ from that aptitude in subordination to the will of God \
 
 THE LAST WOKK OF A BELIEVER, 217 
 
 SO there is sudi an aptitude in the nature of the soul to be 
 innnortal, which God maketh use of to the accomplishment 
 of his -will for its actual perpetuity. 
 
 The heathenish SocinLans, that deny the immortality of 
 the soul (yea, worse than heathenish, for most heathens 
 do maintain it), must deny to Christ himself, as well as to 
 his members ; for he used the like recommendation of his 
 soul to his Father when he was on the cross, as Stephen 
 dotli here to him. If " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit," be 
 words that prove not the surviving of the spu-it of Stephen ; 
 then, " Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit," wUl 
 not prove the survi\ing of the spirit of Christ. And, then, 
 what do these infidels make of Christ, who also deny his 
 Deity ; and consequently, make him nothing but a coi-pse, 
 when his body was in the grave ? How then did he make 
 good his promise to the penitent malefactor? " This day 
 shalt thou be with me in paradise." But he that said, 
 " Because I live, ye shall live also" (John xiv. 19), did 
 live in the spirit, while he was put to death in the flesh, 
 1 Pet. iii. 1 8 ; and reeeiveth the spirits of his servants unto 
 life eternal, M'hUe their flesh is rotting in the gi'ave. This 
 vi'ry te.xt is so clear for this, if there were no other, it 
 might end the controversj- M-ith all that believe the holy 
 Scriptures. 
 
 I confess there is a sleep of souls, a metaphorical sleep in 
 sin and in security, or else the drowsy opinions of these in- 
 fidels had never found entertainment in the world ; a sleep 
 so deep that the voice of God, in the threatenings of his 
 word, and the alarm of his judgments, and the thimder of 
 his warnings by his most serious ministers, prevail not to 
 awaken the most : so dead a sleep possesseth the most of 
 the ungodly world, that they can quietly sin in the sight of 
 God, at the entrance upon eternity, at the doors of hell, 
 and the calls of God do not awaken them : so dead a sleep, 
 tliat Scripture justly calls them dead, Eph. ii. 1,5; and 
 ministers may well call them dead, for alas, it is not our 
 voice that can awake them ; they are as dead to us : we 
 draw back the curtains to let in the light, and shew them
 
 218 THE LAST AVORK OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 that judgment is at hand, and use those true but terrible 
 arguments from ■v\Tath and hell, which we are afi-aid should 
 too much fi'ighten many tender hearers, and yet they sleep 
 on ; and oiu* loudest calls, om* tears, and our entreaties, 
 cannot awaken them. We cry to them in the name of the 
 Lord, " Awake, thou that sleepest, arise fi'om the dead, and 
 Christ shall give thee light," Eph. v. 14. This moral sleep 
 and death of souls, which is the forerunner of everlasting 
 death in misery, we cannot deny. But after death even 
 this sleep shall cease ; and God will awaken them with his 
 vengeance, that would not be awaked by his grace. Then, 
 sinner, sleep under the thoughts of sin and God's displea- 
 sure, if thou canst. There is no sleeping soul in hell ; there 
 are none that are past feeling. The mortal stroke that 
 layeth thy flesh to sleep in the dust, lets out a guilty soul 
 into a world where there is no sleeping ; where there is a 
 light irresistible, and a terror and torment, that will keep 
 them waking. If God bid thee awake by the flames of 
 justice, he will have no nay. The fu'st sight and feeling 
 which Avill sm'prise thee when thou hast left this flesh, will 
 awake thee to eternity, and do more than we could do in 
 time, and convince thee that there is no sleeping state for 
 separated souls. 
 
 Doct. V. Christ doth receive the s})irits of the saints when 
 they leave the flesh. 
 
 Here we shall lu'st tell you what Christ's receiidng of the 
 spirit is. The word signifieth, to take it as acceptable to 
 himself; and it comprehendcth these particulars. 
 
 1. That Christ will not leave the new-departed soul to 
 the Avill of Satan, its malicious enemy. How ready is he 
 to receive us to perdition, if Christ refuse us, and receive 
 us not to salvation ! He that now seeketh as a roaring lion 
 night and day, as our adversary, to devour us by deceit, 
 will then seek to devour us by execution. How glad was 
 he when God gave him leave but to touch the goods, and 
 children and bcxly of Job ! And how nuich more would it 
 please his enmity to hav(i power to torment our souls ! But 
 the soul that ileil to the arms of Chiist by I'.iith in the day
 
 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 219 
 
 of trial, shall then find itself in the arms of Christ in the 
 moment of its entrance npon eternity. O Christian, whether 
 thou now feel it to thy comfort or not, thou shalt then feel 
 it to the rarishing of thy soul, that thou didst not fly to 
 Christ in vain, nor trust him in vain to be thy Saviour. 
 Satan shall be for ever disappointed of his desu'ed prey. 
 Long wast thou combatmg ^vith him ; frequently and strongly 
 wast thou tempted by him. Thou oft thoughtest it was a 
 doubtful (juestion, who should win the day, and whether 
 ever thou shouldst hold out and be saved ; but when thou 
 passest from the flesh, in thy last exti'emity, in the end of 
 thy greatest and most shaking fears, when Satan is ready, 
 if he might, to carry thy soul to hell ; then, even then, shalt 
 thou find that thou hast won the day. And yet not thou, 
 but Christ is he that hath been %'ictorious for thee ; even as 
 when thou livedst the life of faith, it was not thou, but 
 Christ lived in thee, Gal. ii. 20. Thou mayst fear at thy 
 departure, and leave the flesh -with ten-or, and imagine that 
 Satan will presently devour thee ; but the experience of a 
 moment will end thy fears, and thou shalt triumph against 
 thy conquered foe. He that saved thee from the dominion 
 of a tempting devil, will certainly save thee from him when 
 he would torment thee. Here he would have us that he 
 may sitl; us, and get advantage on our weakness ; but Christ 
 prayeth for us, and strcngtheneth us, that our faith may not 
 fail, Luke xxii. 31. And he that saveth us from the sin, 
 will save us from the punishment, and from Satan's fury, as 
 he did from his fraud. 
 
 2. Christ's receiving us doth include his favourable en- 
 tertainment and welcoming the departed soul. Poor soul, 
 thou wast never so welcome to thy dearest friend, nor mto 
 the arms of a father, a husband or a Avife, as thou shalt be 
 then into the presence and embracements of thy Lord. 
 Thou hearcst, and readest, and partly beUevest, now how 
 he loveth us, even as his spouse and members, as his flesh 
 and bone, Eph. vi. But then thou shalt feel how he loveth 
 thee in particular. If the angels of God have joy at thy 
 conversion, what joy will there be in heaven at thy entrance
 
 220 THE LAST WORK OF A BBLIEVER. 
 
 into that salvation. And sure those angels vdU. bid thee 
 welcome, and concur with Christ in that triumpliant joy. 
 If a returning prodigal find himself in the arms of his father's 
 love, and welcomed home with his kisses, and his robe and 
 feast, what welcome then may a cleansed, conquered soul 
 expect when it cometh into the presence of glorious love, 
 and is purposely to be received ^nth such demonstrations of 
 love as may be fitted to magnify the love of God, which 
 exceedeth all the love of man, as omnipotency doth exceed 
 our impotency, and therefore will exceed it in the effects ! 
 Though thou hast questioned here in the dark, whether 
 thou wert welcome to Christ when thou camest to him in 
 prayer, or when thou camest to his holy table, yet then 
 doubt of thy welcome if thou canst. 
 
 Oh had we but one moment's sense of the delights of the 
 embraced soul that is newly received by Christ into his 
 kingdom, it would make us think we were in heaven already, 
 and transport us more than the disciples that saw the trans- 
 figuration of Chiist ; and make us say, in comparing this 
 with all the glory of the world, " Master, it is good for us 
 to be here ; " but in consideration of the full, to say, It is 
 better to be there. But it must not be : earth must not be 
 so happy as to have a moment's sense of the inconceivable 
 pleasures of the received soul ; that is the reward and 
 crown, and therefore not fit for tis here in our conflict. 
 
 But low things may, by dark resemblance, a little help 
 us to conceive of something that is like them in a low de- 
 gree. _ How would you receive your son, or husband, the 
 next day after some bloody fight, where he liad escaped 
 with the victory? or your child, or friend, that amved 
 safely after a long and a dangerous voyage? Would you 
 not run and meet liim, and with joy embrace him, if he had 
 been many years absent, and were now come home ? I 
 tC'U thee, poor soul, thy Saviour hath a larger heart, and 
 another kind of love than thou ; and other reasons of greater 
 force to move him to Ijid thee welcome into his ])resence. 
 
 3. Christ's rec('I\Tng the dejiarted soul includeth the state 
 of blessedness into Avhich he doth receive it. If you ask
 
 TJIJE L.\ST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 221 
 
 ^vllat that is, I answer, It is unto himself, to be vith liim 
 where he is ; and that in general is full of comfort, if there 
 were no more ; for we know that Christ is in no ill place ; 
 he is glorified at the " right hand of the Majesty on high," 
 Heb. i. 3. And that the souls of the righteous, and at last 
 their bodies, are received to himself, he often telleth us : 
 " If any man serve me, let him follow me ; and whore lam, 
 there shall also my servant be," John xii. 26. " And if I 
 go and prep;ire a place for you, I will come again and re- 
 ceive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be 
 also," John xiv. 3. And, in the meantime, Avhen Ave once 
 are absent fi-om the body, we are present Avith the Lord 
 (2 Cor. V. 8), and that is in " the building of God, an 
 house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens," verse 1. 
 Paul, therefore, desired " to depart, and to be with Christ," 
 as being far better, Phil. i. 23 ; and Christ promised the 
 converted thief, " This day shalt thou be with me in para- 
 dise," Luke xxiii. 43. And our state after the resurrection 
 hath the same description, " And so shall we ever be with 
 the Lord," 1 Thess. iv. 17. And what it shall be he de- 
 clareth himself, " Father, I will that they also, whom thou hast 
 given me, be with me where I am ; that they may behold my 
 glory, which thou hast given me," John XAni. 2-4. The soul of 
 Lazarus (Luke xvi.) was received into Abraham's bosom, where 
 he is said to be comforted. The heavens receive Christ (Acts 
 iii. 21), and therefore the heavens receive the spu-its that go 
 to him, even the spirits of the just made perfect, Heb. xii. 23 ; 
 that is, that are crowned with Christ in glory, and freed fi-om 
 the imperfections and eAils of this life. And so that is jjlain, 
 though some would pervert it, that " whether we wake or 
 sleep, we may live together with him," 1 Thess. v. 1 0. Not 
 whether we wake to righteousness, or sleep in sin, for such 
 sleepers live not with him ; nor whether we Avake by soUci- 
 tude, or sleep in seciu'ity; nor whether we naturally wake or 
 sleep only, but whether we hve, or die, and so our bodies 
 sleep in death, yet we live together with him. In a word, 
 Christ will receive us into a participation of his joy and glory; 
 into a joy as great as our nature sh;dl be capable of, and
 
 222 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 more than we can now desire, and that the largest heart on 
 earth can justly conceive of or comprehend. And because 
 all this tells you but to the ear, stay yet but a little AvhOe, 
 and experimental sight and feeling shall teU you what this 
 recei\-ing is, even when we receive the kingdom that cannot 
 be moved (Heb. xii. 28), and when we receive the end ot 
 our faith, the salvation of our souls, 1 Pet. i. 9. 
 
 Doct. VI. A djing Christian may confidently and com- 
 fortably recommend his spirit to Christ, to be received by 
 him. 
 
 Though he have formerlj' been a grievous sinner, though 
 at the present he be fi'ail and faulty, though he be weak in 
 faith, and love, and duty, though his body by sickness be 
 become unfit to serve his soul, and as to present sensibility, 
 activity, or joy, he seem to be past the best, or to be no- 
 thing, though the tempter would aggravate his sins, and 
 weakness, and dulnesstohis discouragement, yet he may, he 
 must, with confidence recommend his spirit to Christ, to be 
 received by him. 
 
 O learn his doctrine, Christians, that you may use it in the 
 hour of your last distress. The hour is near ; the distress will 
 be the greatest that ever you were in. As well as we seem 
 now while we are hearing this, our turn is nigh. Tlie mid- 
 wife is not so necessary to the life of the child that receiveth 
 it into the world, as Christ's receiving will be then to our 
 everlasting life. To say over heartlessly these words, " Lord 
 Jesus, receive my spirit," will be no more than a dead-hearted 
 hj'pocrlte may do. Such formal lip-service in life or at 
 death doth profit nothing to salvation ; now make such 
 necessary preparation, that at death you may have well- 
 grounded confidence that Jesus Christ will receive your 
 spirits. 
 
 1. And first, let me bring this to the carnal, unprepared 
 sinner. 
 
 Poor sinner, what thoughts hast thou of thy dying hour, 
 and of thy departing soul? I wonder at thee what thoughts 
 thou hast of them, that thou canst sin so boldly, and live so 
 carelessly, and talk or hear of the life to come so senselessly
 
 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 223 
 
 as thou (lost ! Thou mightest well think I wronged thee, 
 if I took thee to be such a brute as not to know that thou 
 must die. Thy soul that brought thy body hither, that 
 causeth it now to hear and understand, that carrieth it up 
 and down the world, must very shortly be required of thee, 
 and must fcek another habitation. What thoughts hast 
 thou of thy departing soul? "Will Christ receive it? Hast 
 thou made sure of that ? Or hast thou made it thv princi- 
 pal care and business to make sure ? Oh, what doth in- 
 toxicate the brains of sensual, worldly men, that they drown 
 themselves in the cares of this life, and ride and run for 
 transitory riches, and live upon the smoke of honour and 
 applause, and never soberly and seriously bethink them 
 whether Christ will receive their departed souls ! That thev 
 can fill their minds with other thoughts, and fill their mouths 
 with other talk, and consume then- time in other inconsider- 
 able emplojTuents, and take no more care, and spend no 
 more thoughts, and words, and time about the entertain- 
 ment of their departing souls ! When they are even readv 
 to be gone, and stand, as it were, on tiptoe; when fevers, 
 and consumptions, and many hundred diseases are aU abroad 
 so busily distributing their summonses ; and when the gates 
 of death have so many passengers crowding in, and souls a 
 remaking such haste away, will you not consider what shall 
 become of yours ? Will you say that you hope well, and 
 you must venture ? K God had appointed you nothing to 
 do to prepare for your safe passage and entertainment -w-ith 
 Christ, you might then take up with such an answer ; but it 
 Ls a mad adventure to leave all undone that is necessary to 
 your salvation, and then to say, you must put it to the ven- 
 ture. If you die in an unrenewed and unjustified state, it 
 is past all venture ; fur it is certain that Chi-ist will not re- 
 ceive you. You may talk of hoping, but it is not a matter 
 to be hoped for. Hope that God will make good every 
 word of his promise, and spare not; but there is no more 
 hope that Christ ^^^ll receive the souls of any but of his 
 members, than tliere is that he will prove a liar. He never 
 promised to save any otliers ; and that is not all, but he hath
 
 224 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 declared and professed fi-eqiiently tliat he will not. And you 
 are no believers if you will not believe him ; and if you be- 
 lieve him, you must believe that the unbelievers, the unre- 
 generate, the imholy, and the workers of iniquity, shall not 
 be received into the kingdom of heaven, for he hath professed 
 it, John iii. 3, 36 ; Heb. xii. 14; Matt. vii. 23. 
 
 If Christ would receive the souls of all, your venture then 
 had reason for it ; or if he had left it as a thing that depended 
 only on his unrevealed will, and not on any preparations of 
 our own, we might then have quit ourselves of the care, and 
 cast it all on him, as being his part, and none of om's. But 
 it is not so, I hope I need not tell you that it is not so. 
 Believe it, the question must be now resolved, and resolved 
 by yourselves, whether Christ shall receive your departed 
 souls, or cast them off as firebrands for hell. He hath made 
 the law, and set down the terms already to which he will 
 unalterably stand, and which we must trust to. It is now 
 that you must labour to be accepted of him, " for we nmst 
 all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ; that every one 
 may receive the things done in his body, according to that 
 he hath done, whether it be good or bad," 2 Cor. v. 10. 
 O sirs ! this is the reason of our importunity -with you. 
 " Knowing the terror of the Lord, we persuade men," saith 
 the apostle in the next words, ver. 11. We know that the 
 sentence wUl be just, and that it is now in your own hands 
 what judgment then shall pass upon you. And if just now 
 your souls were passing hence, before you went from the 
 place you sit in, would you think any care could be too 
 great to make sure that they should go to hap])iness. Oh 
 that you would consider how much it is }'our own work, and 
 how much it resteth on yourselves what Christ shall then do 
 with you ! Then you will cry to him for mercy, O cast not 
 away a miserable soul ! Lord, receive me Into thy kingdom ! 
 But how he must entreat you to be saved, and to be the 
 people that he may then receive, and you will not hear him. 
 And if you will not hear him when he calleth on you, and 
 beseecheth you to repent and to pr(>pare, as sure as Christ 
 is Christ, he will not liear you Avhcn j'ou cry and call for
 
 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIKVER. 225 
 
 mercy too late in your extremity. Read Prov. i. and you 
 will see this is true. It is you that are to be entreated that 
 Christ may receive you, tor the unwillingness and backward- 
 ness is on your part. You are now poisoning your souls by 
 sin ; and wlien we cannot entreat j'ou either to forbear, or 
 to take the vomit of repentance, yet when you are gasping 
 and (lying of your own wilful self-murder, you will then cry 
 to Christ, and think he must receive you upon terms incon- 
 sistent with his justice, holiness, and truth. But flatter not 
 yourselves, it will not be. This is the accepted time ; be- 
 hold, now is the day of salvation. Refuse it now, and it is 
 lost for ever. O sirs, if this were the hour, and you were 
 presently to be received or refused, would you blame me to 
 cry and call to you with all the fervour of my soul, if I knew 
 tiuit it were in your own choice whether you would go to 
 heaven or hell ? ^Vhy, now it is in your choice. Life and 
 death are set before you. Christ will receive you if you will 
 but come within the capacity of his acceptation. If youvnll 
 not, there will then be no I'emedy. It is a doleiid thing to 
 observe how Satan doth bewitch poor sinners. That when 
 time is gijue, and the door of mercy is shut against them, 
 they would think no cries too loud for mercy, and no impor- 
 tunity too gi-eat. For Christ telleth us, that then they will 
 cry, " Lord, Lord, open to us," Matt. xxv. 10, 11. And 
 yet now, when the door stands open, no arguments, no ear- 
 nestness, no tears, can entreat them to enter in. Then there 
 is not the most senseless sinner of you all but would cry 
 more strongly than Esau for the blessing, when his teai-s 
 could find no place for repentance, Ileb. xii. 16, 17; Lord, 
 receive a miserable soul ! O whither shall I go if thou re- 
 ceive me not ! I nnist else be tormented in those scorching 
 ilames. Anil yet now you will sell your birthriglit for one 
 morsel; for a little of Judas's or Gehazi's gain, tor the ap- 
 plause of worms, for the pleasing of your llesh that is turn- 
 ing to corrui)tion, for the delights of gluttony, drunkeimess, 
 sports, or lust. There is not a man of you but would then 
 pray more earnestly than those that jou now deride for
 
 226 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 earnest pra}'ing, as if they wliined, and were ridiculous. And 
 yet now you -will neitlier be serious in prayer, nor hear 
 Christ, or his messengers, when he maketh it his earnest re- 
 quest to you to come in to him that you may have life, John 
 V. 40. Then you will knock when the door is shut, and 
 cry. Lord, open to a miserable sinner ! and yet now you -will 
 not open unto him, when by his word and Spirit, his mercies 
 and afflictions, he standeth at the door of your stubborn 
 hearts, and calleth on you to repent and turn to God ; now 
 our entreaties cannot so much as bring you on your knees, 
 or bring you to one hour's serious thoughts about the state 
 of those souls that a're so near their doom. O sirs ! for 
 your souls' sake, lay by your obstinacy. Pity those souls 
 that then you will beg of Christ to pity. Do not you damn 
 them by your sloth and sin in the day of your visitation, and 
 then cry in vain to Christ to save them when it is too late. 
 Yet the door of grace is open, but how speedily will it be 
 shut ! One stroke of an apoplexy, a consumption, a fever, 
 can quickly shut it, and then you may tear your hearts with 
 crying, " Lord, open to us," and all in vain. O did you 
 but see departed souls, as you see the corpse that is left be- 
 hind ; did you see how they are treated at their removal 
 from the flesh ; how some are taken and others left ; how 
 some are welcomed to Christ, and others are abhorred, and 
 turned over to the tormentor, and thrust out with implacable 
 indignation and disdain, Luke xiii. 28 ; Prov. i. 24, 26, 27 ; 
 sure you would enter into serious consideration this day, 
 what it is that makes this (Hflerence, and why Christ so useth 
 the one and the other, and what must be done now by the 
 soul that would be received then. Alas! men wiU do any 
 thing but that which they should do. Among the supersti- 
 tious papists the conceit of a deliverance from purgatory 
 makes them bequeath their lands and moneys to priests and 
 fi-iars to pray for them when they are dead, and to have 
 other men cry to Christ to receive them, and open to them, 
 when time is past; and yet now in the accepted time, 
 now when it is at your choice, and the door is open, men live
 
 THE L.A.ST AVOHK OF A BELIEVER. 227 
 
 fis if tbcv ■were past feeling, and cared not what became of 
 them at the last, and would not be beholden to Christ to re- 
 ceive them, when the deceitful world hath cast them off. 
 
 And now, beloved hearers all, I would make it my most 
 earnest request to you, as one that laioweth Ave ai-e all pass- 
 ing hence, and foreseeth the case of a departed soul, that you 
 would now, mthout any more delay, prepare and maki^ sure 
 that you may be received into the everlasting habitations : 
 and to this end, I shall more distinctly, though briefly, tell 
 you, 1. What souls they are that Christ wiU receive, and 
 what he Avill not ; and, consequently, what you must do to 
 be received. 2. What considerations should stir you up to 
 this preparation. 
 
 1. Isothing is more sure than that Christ will not receive, 
 1. Any miregenerate, unconverted soul, John iii. 3, 5 ; 
 Matt. x\iil. ; that is, not renewed and sanctified by his 
 Spiiit, Rom. viii. 9; Ileb. xii. 14; Acts xxvi. 18. They 
 must have the new and heavenly nature that Avill ever come 
 to heaven. Without this you are morally incapable of it. 
 Heaven is the proper inheritance of saints, Col. i. 12. This 
 heavenly nature and Spirit is your earnest : if you have this 
 you are sealed up unto salvation, 2 Cor. i. 22 ; Eph. i. 13 ; 
 "iv. 30. 
 
 2. Christ Avill receive none but those that make it now 
 theii* work to lay up a treasure in heaven, rather than upon 
 the earth, Matt. -vi. 20, 21 ; and that seek it in the first 
 place, Matt. vi. 33 ; and can be content to pai't with all to 
 purchase it. Matt. xiii. 44, 46 ; Luke xiv. 33 ; xviii. 22. 
 An earthly-minded worldling is incapable of heaven in that 
 condition, Phil. iii. 17, 18; Luke xvi. 13. You must take 
 it for your portion, and set your hearts on it, if ever you will 
 come thither, Matt. ^.i. 21; Col. iii. 1-3. 
 
 3. Christ vrill receive no soul at last, but such as sincerely 
 received liiiii as theii* Lord and Saviour now, and gave up 
 themselves to him, and received his Avord, and yield obe- 
 dience to it, and receiA'ed his Spirit, and were cleansed by 
 him from their iniquities, John i. 11,12; Luke xix. 27. 
 '• That all they might be damned that belieA'ed not the truth,
 
 228 THE LAST WOKK OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 but had pleasure In unrighteousness," 2 Thess. ii. 10, 12. 
 They are God's own words ; be not offended at them, but 
 believe and fear. " He hateth all the workers of Iniquity," 
 and will say to them, " Depart fi-oni me, I know you not," 
 Psalm V. 5 ; Matt. vil. 23. 
 
 4. He will receive none but those that loved his servants, 
 that bore his holy Image, and received them according to 
 their abilities, Matt. xxv. 40, 41, &c. And if he will say 
 to those that did not entertain them, " Depart from me, ye 
 cursed. Into everlasting fire," what avUI he say to those that 
 hate and persecute them? 1 John ill. 14 ; v. 2. 
 
 5. He will receive none but those that live to him in the 
 body, and use his gifts and talents to his sei'vice, and make 
 it their chief Inisiness to serve, and honour, and please him 
 in the world, Matt. xxv. 21, 26; 2 Cor. v. 9, 15; Gal. vi. 
 7,8; and live not to the pleasing of the flesh, but have cru- 
 cified It and its lusts, Rom. viii. 1, 13 ; Gal. v. 24. 
 
 Examine all these texts of Scripture (for the matter is 
 worthy of your study), and you will see what souls they 
 are that Christ will then receive, and what he will rejeat. 
 You may see also what you must now be and do, if you will 
 be then received. If jou are not regenerate by the Spirit of 
 God (though you may be sacramentally regenerate in 
 baptism) ; if you are not justified by Christ (though }ou may 
 be absolved by a minister) ; if you sciek not heaven with 
 higher estimation and resolutions than any felicity on earth, 
 and take not God for your satisf3ing portion (though you 
 be never so religious In subserviency to a fleshly, worldly 
 happiness) ; if you receive not Christ as your only Saviour, 
 and set him not in the throne and government of your 
 hearts and lives (though you may go with men for current 
 Christians) ; if you hate not sin, if you love not the holy 
 image and children of God, and use them not accordingly ; 
 if you crucify not the flesh, and die not to the world, and 
 deny not yourselves, and live not unto God, as making it 
 your chicif business and happiness to please him ; I say, if 
 this be not your case, as sure as you are men, if you died 
 this hour In this condition, Christ will not own you, but
 
 THE LAST AVORIC OF A BELIEVER. 229 
 
 turn you off with a " Depart, ye cursed." You may as 
 well think of reconciling ligiit and darkness, or persuade a 
 man to live on the food of beasts, or the stomach to wel- 
 come deadly poison, as to think that Christ will receive an 
 ungodly, earthly, guilty soul. 
 
 Deceive not yourselves, sinners. If God could have en- 
 tertained the ungodly, and heaven could hold unholy souls, 
 answer nie, then, these two or three questions. 
 
 Quest. 1. What need Christ, then, to have shed his 
 blood, or become a sacrifice for sin ? K he could have re- 
 ceived the ungodly, he might have done it upon cheaper 
 rates. This feigned him to have died to no p-n-pose, but 
 to bring the unsanctified to heaven, that might have been 
 as well entertained there without his sufferings. 
 
 Quest. 2. To what use doth Christ send the Holy Ghost 
 to sanctify his elect, or send his word and ministers to pro- 
 mote it, if they may come to heaven unsanctified? 
 
 Que.<it. 3. If the ungodly go to heaven, what use is hell 
 for? Tliere is no hell, if this be true. But you will 
 quickly find that to be too good news to the ungodly to be 
 true. 
 
 2. In Luke xvi. Chiist teacheth us our duty by the 
 parable of the steward, that asketh himself l)eforehand, what 
 he shall do when he must be no longer steward, and con- 
 triveth it so that others may receive him %vhen he is c»ist off; 
 and he applieth it to us that must now so provide, that 
 when we fail we may be received into the eveilasting habi- 
 tations. This is the work that we have all to mind. We 
 always knew that this world would fail us. Oh how uncer- 
 tain is your teinu-e of the dwellings that you now possess ! 
 Are you provided, certainly provided, whither to go, and 
 who shall receive you when your stewardshij) is ended, and 
 you must needs go hence? O think of these considerations 
 that should move you presently to provide 
 
 1. Your cottages of earth are reaily to drop do\vn, and 
 it is a stormy time, theix; are many sicknesses abroad. 
 One blast may quickly lay them in the dust ; and then the 
 flesh that had so much care, and was thought worthy to
 
 230 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 be preferred before the soul, must be laid and left to rot 
 in darkness, to avoid the annoyance of the living : and when 
 you may justly look every hour when you are turned out of 
 these dwellings that you are in, is it not time to be pro- 
 vided of some other ? 
 
 2. Consider, if Christ should not receive thy spirit, how 
 unspeakably deplorable thy case will l)e. I think there is 
 no man in all this asscmbl}' so mad, that would take all the 
 world now to have his soul refused then by Christ, that 
 would professedly make and subscribe such a bargain ; and 
 yet, alas, how many are they that will be hired for a smaller 
 price, even for the pleasure of a sin, to do that which 
 Christ himself hath told them will cause him to refuse 
 them ! O su-s, for aught you know, before to-morrow, or 
 within this week, you may be put to know these things by 
 trial, and your souls ma}- be refused or received ; and woe 
 to you that ever you were men, if Christ receive you not. 
 
 Consider, 1. If Christ receive thee not, thou hast no 
 friend left then to receive thee. Thy house, and land, and 
 riches, and reputation, are all left behind ; none of them 
 will go with thee ; or, if they did, they could afford thee no 
 relief. Thy bosom friends, thy powerful defenders, are all 
 left behind ; or if they go before thee, or -with thee, they 
 can do nothmg there, that could do so much for thee here. 
 No minister so holy, no fi-iend so kind, no patron so power- 
 ful, that can give thee any entertainment, if Christ refuse to 
 entertain thee. Look to the right hand or to the left, there 
 will be none to help thee, or care for thy foi'saken soul. 
 Then thou Avilt find that one Christ had been a better friend 
 than all the great ones upon earth. 
 
 2. If Chri.st, then, receive not th}' departed soul, the 
 devils will receive it. I am loth to speak so terrible a word, 
 but that it must be spoken, if you will be awaked to pre- 
 vent it. He that deceived thee will then plead conquest, 
 and claim thee as his due, that he may torment thee. And 
 if the devil say, Tliissoul is mine, and Christ do not rescue 
 and justify thee, but say so too, no heart is able to conceive 
 the horror that -will then overwhelm thee. Doth not the
 
 THE LAST WORK OF A BKLIEVER. 231 
 
 reading of the sentence make thee tremble, " Depart from 
 me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, pi-epared for the de^-ii 
 and his angels?" Matt. xxv. 41. This is that dreadful 
 delivering up to Satan, -syhen the soul is excommunicated 
 from the city of God. O, therefore, if thou bo yet unre- 
 conciled to God, agi-ee with him quickly, while thou art 
 here in the way, lest he deliver thee to this terrible jailer 
 and executioner, and thou be cast into the prison of the 
 bottomless pit: "Vei-ily, I say unto thee, thou shalt by no 
 means come out thence till thou hast paid the uttermost 
 farthing," Matt. v. 25, 26. 
 
 8 . The greatness of the change will increase the amaze- 
 ment and misery of thy spirit, if Christ receive it not. To 
 leave a world that thou wast acquainted with ; a world that 
 pleased thee, and entertained thee ; a world where thou 
 hadst long thy business and delight, and where, ■\\Tetched 
 man, thou hadst made the chief provision, and laid up thy 
 treasure: this will be a sad part of the change. To enter 
 inti) a world where thou art a stranger, and much worse, 
 and see the company and the things that before thou never 
 sawest, and to find things go there so contrary to thy expec- 
 tation ; to be turned, with Dives, from thy sumptuous dwell- 
 ing, attendance, and fiire, into a place of easeless torment : 
 this \vill be a sadder part of thy change. Here the rich 
 would have received thee, the poor would have served and 
 Mattered thee, thy friends would have comforted thee, thy 
 play-follows would have been merry with thee. But there, 
 alas ! how the case is altered ! all these have done ; the table 
 is withdrawn, the game is ended, the mirth is ceased, and 
 now succeedeth, " Son, remember that thou in thy life-time 
 receivedst thy good things, and Lazarus evil things : but 
 now he is comforted, and thou art tormented," Luke xvi. 
 2.'). Oh, dreadful change to those that made the world 
 tlieir home, and little dreamed, or did but dream, of such a 
 day I Xever to see this world again, unless by such re- 
 views as will torment them ; never to have sport or ])leasure 
 more ; and for these to have such company, such thoughts, 
 su'.h work and usage, as God hath told us is in hell.
 
 232 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 4. If Christ receive thee not, the burden of thy sins tvill 
 overwhehn thee, and conscience will have no relief. Sin 
 will not then appear in so harmless a shape as now : it will 
 then seem a more odious or frightful thing. Oh, to re- 
 member these days of folly, of careless, sluggish, obstinate 
 folly, of sottish negligence, and contempt of grace, will be 
 a more tormenting thing than you Avill now believe. If 
 such sermons and discourses as foretell it are troublesome 
 to thee, what then will that sad experience be ! 
 
 5. The wrath of an offended God will overwhelm thee. 
 This wUl be thy hell. He that was so merciful in the time 
 of mercy, will be most ten-ible and implacable when that 
 time is past, and make men know that Christ and mercy 
 are not neglected, refused, and abused at so cheap a rate, 
 as they would needs unagine in tlie time of their deli- 
 rium. 
 
 6. It will overwhelm the soul if Christ receive it not, to 
 see that thou art entei'ing upon eternity, even into an ever- 
 lasting state of woe. Then thou wilt think, O whither am 
 I going? What must I endure ? and how long, how long? 
 When shall my miseries have an end ? and when shall I 
 come back ? and how shall I ever be delivered ? Oh now 
 what thoughts wilt thou have of the wonderful design ol 
 God in man's redemption ! Now thou vrilt better under- 
 stand what a Saviour was worth, and how he should have 
 been believed in, and how his gospel and his saving grace 
 should have been entertained. 
 
 Oh that the Lord would now open your hearts to enter- 
 tain it, that you may not then value it to your vexation, 
 that would not value it now to your relief! Poor sinner, 
 for the Lord's sake, and for thy soul's sake, I beg now of 
 thee, as if it were on my knees, that thou wouldst cast 
 away thy sinful cares and pleasures, and open thy heart, 
 . and now receive thy Saviour and his saving grace, as ever 
 thou wouldst have him then receive thy trembling, departed 
 soul ! Turn to him now, that he may not turn thee from 
 him then. Forsake him not for a flattering world, a little 
 transitory, vain delight, as ever thou wouldst not then have
 
 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 233 
 
 thy departed soul forsaken by him ! O delny not, man, 
 but now, even now receive him, that thou mayst avoid so 
 terrible a danger, and put so gi-eat a question presently out 
 of doubt, and be able comfortably to say, I have received 
 Christ, and he will receive me ; if I die this night he will 
 receive me : then thou mayst sleep quietlj-, and hve merrily, 
 without any disparagement to thy reason. O }ield to this 
 request, sinner, of one that desu-eth thy salvation. If thou 
 wert now departing, and I would not pray earnestly to 
 Christ to receive thy soul, thou wouldst think I were un- 
 charitable. Alas ! it will be one of these days ; and it is 
 thee that I must entreat, and thyself must be prevailed with, 
 or there is no hope. Christ sendeth me to thyself, and 
 satth, that he is willing to receive thee, if now thou wilt re- 
 ceive him, and be sanctified and ruled by him. The matter 
 stops at thy own regardless, Avilfid heart. "What safest 
 thou? Wilt thou receive Christ now, or not ? Wilt thou 
 be a new creature, and live to God, by the princi])le of his 
 Spirit, and the rule of his word, to please him here, that 
 thou mayst live with him for ever? \\'ilt tliou take up this 
 resolution, and make this covenant with God this day? O 
 give me a word of comfort, and say, thou art resolved, and 
 wilt deliver up thyself to Christ. That which is my com- 
 fort, now on thy behalf, will be ten thousand-fold more thy 
 comfort then, when thou partakest of the benefit. And if 
 thou grieve us now, by den}ang thy soul to Christ, it will 
 be at last ten thousand-fold more thy grief. Refuse not 
 our requests and Christ's request now, as ever thou wouldst 
 not have him refuse thee then, and thy requests. It is 
 men's turning away now from Christ that Avill cause Christ 
 then to turn from them. '■'■ The tvu'uing away of the simple 
 slayeth them, and they then eat but the ii-uit of their own 
 way, and are filled with their oa\ti devices," Prov. i. 31, 
 32. " See then that ye now refuse not lum that sj)eakcth ; 
 for there is no escaping if you turn away from him that 
 gpeaketh from heaven," Ileb. xii. 25. 
 
 What would you say yourselves to the man that would 
 not be dissuaded from setting his house on fu-e, and then
 
 234 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 would pray and cry importunately to God that he would 
 keep it from being burnt ? Or of the man that will not be 
 dissuaded from taking poison, and then when it gripeth him 
 win cry to God to save his life ? Or of the man that will 
 go to sea in a leaking, broken vessel, yea, himself will make 
 those breaches in it that shall let the water in, and when it 
 is sinking will cry to God to save him from bemg drowned? 
 And will you do this about so great a matter as the ever- 
 lasting state of your immortal souls? WiU you now be 
 worldlings, and sensualists, and ungodly, and undo your- 
 selves, and then cry, " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit," at 
 the last ? What ! receive an unholy spirit ? Will you not 
 knock tiU the door is shut? when he telleth you, that " it 
 is not every one that will cry Lord, Lord, that shall enter 
 into the kingdom of heaven, but he that doth the wiU of his 
 Father which is in heaven," Matt. vii. 21. 
 
 Lastly, consider with what unspeakable joy it wUl fiU thy 
 soul to be then received by the Lord. Oh what a jojiul 
 word will it be, when thou shalt hear, " Come, ye blessed 
 of my Father, inherit the kingdom prejjared for you." If 
 thou wilt not have this to be thy case, thou shalt see those 
 received to the increase of thy gi-ief whom tliou reflisedst 
 here to imitate : " There shall be weeping and gnashing of 
 teeth, when ye shall see Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and all 
 the prophets in the kingdom of God, and those that from 
 east, .west, north, and south, shall sit thei'e with them, and 
 thou thrust out," Luke xiii. 27-29. 
 
 I have been long in this part of my application, having 
 to do witli souls that are ready to depart, and are in so sad 
 an unprepared state, as is not to be tliought on but with 
 great compassion ; I am next to come to that part of the 
 appUcation which I chiefly intended, to those that are the 
 heirs of life. 
 
 2. O you that are members of Jesus Christ, receive this 
 cordial which may corroborate your hearts against all inordi- 
 nate fears of death. Let it come when it vrill, you may 
 boldly recommend your departing souls into the hands of 
 Christ. Let it be by a lingering disease or by an acute, by
 
 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 235 
 
 a natural or a violent death, at the fulness of your age or 
 in the flower of your youth, death can but separate the soul 
 from llesh, but not from Christ : Avhether you die poor or 
 rich, at liberty or in prison, in your native country or a 
 foreign land, whether you be buried in the earth or cast into 
 the sea, death shall but send your souls to Christ. Though 
 you die under the reproach and slanders of the world, and 
 your names be cast out among men as evil-doers, yet Christ 
 will take your spirits to himself. Though your souls depart 
 in fear and trembling, though they want the sense of the 
 love of God, and doubt of pardon and peace with him, yet 
 Christ -vvill receive them. 
 
 I know thou wilt be ready to say, that thou art unworthy, 
 Will he receive so unworthy a soul as mine ? But if thou 
 be a member of Christ thou art worthy in him to be ac- 
 cepted. Thou hast a Avorthiness of aptitude, and Christ 
 hath a worthiness of merit. 
 
 The day that cometh upon such at unawares, that have 
 their hearts overcharged with sm-feiting, di'unkemiess, and the 
 cares of this life, and as a snare surpriseth the inhabitants 
 of the earth, shall be the day of thy great deliverance ; 
 " Watch ye, therefore, and pray always, that ye may be 
 accounted worthy to escape all these things that shall come 
 to pass, and to stand before the Son of man," Luke xxi. 
 84-36. " They that are accounted worthy to obtain that 
 world can die no more ; for they are equal unto the angels, 
 and are the children of God," Luke xx. 35, 3G. 
 
 Object. Oh but my sins are great and many ; and vnll 
 Christ ever receive so ignorant, so earthly and impui'e a 
 soul as mine ? 
 
 Ansio. If he have freed thee from the reign of sin, by 
 giraig thee a will that would fain be fully doUvered from it, 
 anil given thee a desire to be perfectly hoh", he will finish 
 the work that he hath begun ; and will not bring thee de- 
 iiled into heaven, but will wtvsh thee in his blood, and sepa- 
 rate all the remnant of corruption from thy soul, when 
 he separatcth thy soul from llesh : there needs no pur- 
 gatory, but his blood and Spirit in the instant of death
 
 236 THE LAST WORK OF A BFXIEVEE. 
 
 shall deliver thee, that he luay present thee spotless to the 
 Father. 
 
 O fear not then to trust thy soul with him that wiU re- 
 ceive it ; and fear not death that can do thee no more harm. 
 And when once thou hast overcome the fears of death, thou 
 mlt be tlie more resolute in thy duty, and faithful to Christ, 
 and above the power of most temptations, and wilt not fear 
 the face of man, when death is the worst that man can bring 
 thee to. It is true, death is dreadful ; but it is as true that 
 the arms of Christ are joyful. It is an unpleasing tiling to 
 leave the bodies of our fi-iends in the earth ; but it is un- 
 speakable pleasure to their souls to be received into the 
 heavenly society by Chi'ist. 
 
 And how confidently, quietly, and comfortably you may 
 commend your departing spirits to be received by Christ, be 
 informed by these considerations foUomng. 
 
 1. Your spirits are Christ's own ; and may you not trust 
 him with his own ? As they arc his by the title of creation, 
 " All souls are mine, saith the Lord," Ezek. xviii. 4 ; so 
 also by the title of redemption, "• We are not om* own, we 
 are bought with a price," 1 Cor. vi. 19. 
 
 Say therefore to him, Lord, I am thine much more than 
 my own ; receive thine own, take care of thine own. Thou 
 drewest me to consent to thy gracious covenant, and I re- 
 signed myself and all I had to thee. And thou swarest to 
 me, and I became thine, Ezek. xvi. 8. And I stand to the 
 covenant that I made, though I have offended thee. I am 
 sinful, but I am thine, and would not forsake thee, and 
 change my Lord and ^Master, for a world. O know thine 
 own, and own my soul tliat hath owned thee, though it hath 
 sinned against thee. Tliy sheep kncjw thy voice, and follow 
 not a stranger; now know thy jHsor slieep, and leave them 
 not to the devourer. Thy lambs have been preserved by 
 thee among wolves in the world, preserve me now from the 
 enemy of souls. I am thine, O save me (Psal. cxix. 94), 
 and lose not that which is thine own ! 
 
 2. Consider that thou art his u))on so dear a purchase, 
 as that he is the more en"a<ied to receive thee, llath he
 
 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 237 
 
 bought thee by the price of his most precious blood, and 
 will lie cast thee ofl? Ilath he come down on earth to seek 
 and save thee, and vdW he now forsake thee ? Hath he 
 lived in flesh a life of poverty, and suffered reproach, and 
 scorn, and bufli'tinfrs, and been nailed to the cross, and put 
 to cry out, " ]\Iy God, my God, why ha^it thou forsaken 
 me?" and will he now forget his love, and sufferings, and 
 himsi'lf forsake thee after tliis ? Did he himself on the cross 
 commend his spirit into his Father's hands, and will he not 
 receive tliy spirit when thou at death commendest it to liim? 
 He hath known himself what it is to have a human soul 
 separated from the body, and the body buried in a grave, 
 and there lamented by surviving friends. And why did he 
 this, but that he might be fit to receive and relieve thee ia 
 the like condition ? O, who would not be encouraged to 
 encounter death, and lie down in a grave, that believeth 
 that Christ did so before him, and considereth why he went 
 that way, and what a conquest he had made ! 
 
 I know an argument from the death of Christ will not 
 prove his love to the souls of tlie ungodly so as to infer that 
 he will receive them ; but it will prove his reception of be- 
 Hevei's' souls : " He that spared not his own Sun, but gave 
 him up for us all, liow shall he not with him also freely give 
 us all things?" (Rom. viii. 32,) is an infallible argument 
 as to believers, but not as to those that do reject him. 
 
 Say therefore to him, O my Lord ! can it be that thou 
 couldst come down in the flesh, and be abused, and spit 
 upon, and slandered, and crucified ; that thou couldst bleed, 
 and die, and be buried for me, and now be unwilling to re- 
 ceive me ? that tliou shouldst pay so dear for souls, and now 
 refuse to entertain them ? that thou shouldst die to save 
 them from the de\-il, and now wilt leave them to his cruelty ? 
 that tliou hast conquered him, and yet wilt suffer him at 
 last to have the prey ? To wliom can a departing soul fly 
 for refuge, and for entertaimnent, if not to thee that diedst 
 for souls, and sufferedst thine to be separated from the ilesh, 
 that we n\ight have all assurance of thy compassion unto 
 ours ? 'J'hou didst openly declare upon the cross, that the
 
 238 THE LAST AVORK OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 reason of thy dpng was to receive departed souls, wlien thou 
 didst thus encourage the soul of a penitQjit malefactor, by 
 telling Lim, " This day shalt thou be with me in paradise." 
 O give the same encouragement or entertainment to this 
 sinful soul that flieth unto thee, that trusteth in thy death 
 and merits, and is coming to receive thy doom ! 
 
 3. Consider that Jesus Christ is full of love and tender 
 compassion to souls. "What his tears over Lazarus com- 
 pelled the Jews to say, " Behold how he loved him," John 
 xi. 36 ; the same his incarnation, life, and death should 
 much more stir us up to say, with gi'eater admiration. Be- 
 hold how he loved us. The foregoing words, though the 
 shortest verse in all the Bible, " Jesus wept" (verse 35), 
 are long enough to prove his love to Lazarus : and the Holy 
 Ghost would not have the tears of Chi-ist to be unknown to 
 us, that his love may be the better known. But we have a 
 far larger demonstration of his love ; " He loved us and gave 
 himself for us," Gal. ii. 20. And by what gift could he bet- 
 ter testify his love? " He loved us, and washed us in his 
 blood," Rev. i. 5. He loved us, as the Father loveth him, 
 John XV. 9. And may we not comfortably go to liim that 
 loved us ? WUl love refuse us Avlien we fly unto hun ? 
 
 Say then to Christ, O thou that hast loved my soul, re- 
 ceive it ! I commend it not unto an enemy. Can that love 
 reject me, and cast me into hell, that so oft embraced me 
 on earth, and hath declared itself by such ample testimo- 
 nies ! 
 
 Oh had we but more love to Christ, we should be more 
 sensible of his love to us, and then we should trust him, and 
 love would make us hasten to him, and with confidence cast 
 ourselves upon him ! 
 
 4. Consider that it is the office of Christ to save souls, 
 and to receive them, and therefore we may boldly recom- 
 mend them to his hands. The Father sent him to be the 
 Saviour of the Avorld, 1 John iv. 14 ; and he is effectually 
 the Saviour of his body, Eph. v. 23. And may we not trust 
 him in his undertaken oflice, that would trust a physician or 
 any other in his oflice, if we judge him faithful ? Yea, he is
 
 THE LAST AVORK OF A BELIEVER. 239 
 
 engaged by covenant to receive us : when we gave up our- 
 selves to him, he also became ours ; and we did it on this 
 condition, that he should receive and save us. And it was 
 the condition of his owti undertaking ; he drew the cove- 
 vant himself and tendered it first to us, and assumed his own 
 conditions, as he imposed ours. 
 
 Say then to him. My Lord, I expected but the perform- 
 ance of thy covenants, and the discharge of thine under- 
 taken ofEce : as thou hast caused me to believe in thee, and 
 love and serve thee, and perform the conditions which thou 
 laidest on me, though with many sinful failings, which thou 
 hast pardoned ; so now let my soul, that hath trusted on 
 thoo, have the full experience of thy fidelity, and ttike me to 
 thyself according to thy covenant. " O now remember the 
 Avord unto thy servant, upon which thou hast caused him 
 to hope!" Psal. cxLx. 49. How many precious promises 
 hast thou left us, that we shall not be forsaken by thee, but 
 that we shall be with thee where thou art, that we may be- 
 hold thy glory ! For this cause art thou the Mediator of the 
 new covenant, that by means of death for the redemption of 
 the transgressions that were under the first testament, they 
 which are called might receive the promise of eternal inheii- 
 tance, Ileb. Lx. 15. According to thy covenant, " Godli- 
 ness hath the promise of the hfe that now is, and of that 
 which is to come," 1 Tim. iv. 8. And when we have done 
 thy will (notmtlistanding our lamentable imperfections) we 
 arc to receive tlie promise, Heb. x. 36. O, now receive me 
 into the kingdom which thou hast promised to them that 
 love thee! James i. 12. 
 
 5. Consider how able Christ is to answer thine expecta- 
 tions. All power is given him In heaven and earth (jMatt. 
 xxvill. 19), and all things are given by the Father uito his 
 hands, John xiii. 3. All judgment is committed to him, 
 John V. 22. It Is fully in his power to receive and save 
 thee ; and Satan cannot touch thee but by his consent. 
 Fear not, then ; he Is the first and last, that liveth, and was 
 dead ; and behold he liveth for ever more, amen ; and hath 
 the kej-s of hell and death, Kev. I. 17, 18.
 
 24:0 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 Say, then, If thou wilt, Lord, thou canst save this de- 
 parting soul ! O, say but the word, and I shall live ! Lay 
 but thy rebuke upon the destroyer, and he shall be restrain- 
 ed. When my Lord and dearest SaAdour hath the keys, 
 how can I be kept out of thj^ kingdom, or cast into the burn- 
 ing lake ? AVere it a matter of difficulty unto thee, my soul 
 might fear lest heaven would not be opened to it ; but thy 
 love hath overcome the hindrances ; and it is as easy to re- 
 ceive me as to love me. 
 
 6. Consider how perfectly thy Saviour is acquainted with 
 the place that thou art going to, and the company and em- 
 ployment which thou must there have ; and, therefore, as 
 there is nothing strange to him, so the ignorance and strange- 
 ness in thyself should therefore make thee fly to him, and 
 trust him, and recommend thy soul to him, and say, Lord, 
 it would be terrible to my departing soul to go into a world 
 that I never saw, and into a place so strange, and unto 
 company so far above me ; but that I know there is no- 
 thing strange to thee, and thou knowest it for me, and I 
 may better trust thy knowledge than mine own. When 1 
 was a child I knew not mine own inheritance, nor what was 
 necessary to the daily pro^•isions for my life ; but my parents 
 knew it that cared for me. The eyes nmst see for all the 
 body, and not every member see for itself Oh, cause me 
 as quietly and belie\'ingly to commit my soul to thee, to be 
 possessed of the glory which thou seest and possessest, as if 
 I had seen and possessed it myself, and let thy knowledge 
 be my trust ! 
 
 7. Consider that Christ hath provided a glorious recep- 
 tacle for faithful souls, and it cannot be imagined that he 
 will lose his preparations, or be frustrate of his end. All 
 that he did and suflered on earth was for this end. He 
 therefore became the Captain of our salvation, and was 
 made perfect through sullerings, that he might bring many 
 sons to glory, lleb. ii. 10. lie hath taken possession in 
 our nature, and is himself interceding for us in the heavens, 
 Heb. vii. 25. And for whom doth he provide this heavenly 
 building, not made with hands, but for behevers? If,
 
 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 241 
 
 therefore, any inordinate fear surprise thee, remember what 
 he hath said : " Let not your hearts be troubled : ye be- 
 lieve in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are 
 many mansions : if it were not so, I would have told you. 
 I go to prepare a place for you ; and if I go and prepare a 
 place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto my- 
 self; that Avherelam, there ye maybe also," John xiv. 1-3. 
 
 Say, therefore. Lord, when thou hadst made this lower 
 narrow world, thou wouldst not leave it uninhabited ; for 
 man thou madest it, and man thou placedst in it. And 
 when thou hast prepared that more capacious, glonous world 
 for thy redeemed flock, it cannot be that thou yvHt shut 
 them out. O, therefore, receive my fearful soul, and help 
 me to obey thy ovra command, Luke xii. 32, " Fear not, 
 little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you 
 the kingdom." O, let me hear that joj-ful sentence, " Come, 
 }X' blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for 
 you from the foundation of the Avorld," Matt. xxv. 3-4. 
 
 8. Consider that Christ hath received thy soul unto 
 grace, and therefore he will receive it unto glor}-. He hath 
 quickened us who were dead in trespasses and sins, wherein 
 in times past we walked, &c. But God, who is rich in 
 mercy, for las great love where'W'ith he loved us, even when 
 we were dead in sms and trespasses, quickened us together 
 with Christ, and raised us up together, and made us sit to- 
 gether in heavenly places in Christ Jesus, Eph. ii. 1-6. 
 The state of grace is the kingdom of heaven, as well as the 
 state of glory. Matt. iii. 2 ; x. 7 ; xiii. 11, 24, 31, 33, 44, 
 45, 47. By grace thou hast the heavenly birth and na- 
 ture : we are first-born to trouble and sorrow in the world ; 
 but we are new-born to everlasting joy and pleasure. Grace 
 maketh us heii's, and giveth us title, and therefore at death 
 we shall have possession. The Father of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ, acpording to his abundant mercy, hath begotten us 
 again unto a lively hope, by the resurrection of Jesus Christ 
 from the de»id, to an inheritance incorruptible and unde- 
 filed, and that fadt-th not away, resciTcd in heaven for us, 
 1 Pet. i. 3, 4. The gi-eat work Avas done in the day of thy 
 
 Q
 
 242 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 renovation ; then thou wast entered into the household of 
 God, and made a fellow-citizen with the saints, and re- 
 ceivedst the Spirit of adoption, Eph. ii. 19 ; Gal. iv. 6. He 
 gave thee life eternal, when he gave thee knowledge of him- 
 self, and of his Son, John xvii. 3. And will he now take 
 from thee the kingdom which he hath given thee ? Thou 
 wast once his enemy, and he hath received thee already into 
 his favour, and reconciled thee to himself; and will he not 
 then receive thee to his glory? Rom. v. 8-11, " God com- 
 mendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sin- 
 ners, Christ died for us. Much more then, being now jus- 
 tified by his blood, we shall be saved from wrath through 
 him. For if, when we were enemies, we were reconciled to 
 God by the death of his Son, much more, being reconciled, 
 we shall be saved by his life. And not only so, but we also 
 joy in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom we 
 have now received the atonement." And when we have 
 peace with God, being justified by fiilth (Rom. v. 1), why 
 should we doubt whether he will receive us? The great 
 impediments and cause of fear are now removed : unpardoned 
 sin is taken away, our debt is discharged. We have a 
 sufficient answer against all that can be alleged to the pre- 
 judice of our souls : yea, it is Christ himself that answereth 
 for us ; it is he that justifieth, who then shall condemn us ? 
 Will he not justify those at last whom he hath here justi- 
 fied? Or will he justify us, and yet not receive us? That 
 were both to justify and condemn us. 
 
 Depart, then, in peace, O fearful soul ; thou fallest into 
 his hands that hath justified thee by his blood; will he deny 
 thee the inheritance of which he himself hath made thee 
 heir, yea, a joint-heir with himself? Rom. viii. 17. Will he 
 deprive thee of thy l)irthright, who himself begot thee of 
 the incorruptible seed ? If he would not have received thee 
 to glory, he would not have drawn thee to himself, and 
 have blotted out thine iniquities, and received thee by re- 
 conciling grace. Many a time he hath received the secret 
 petitions, complaints, and groans which thou hast poured 
 out before him ; and hath given thee access with boldness
 
 THE I^\ST WOKK OF A BELIEVER. 243 
 
 to his throne of grace, when thou couldst not liavc access 
 to man ; and he liath taken thee up, wlien man hath cast 
 thee ort". Sui-ely he tliat received thee so readily in tliy dis- 
 tress, -will not now at last repent him of his love. As Ma- 
 noah's wife said, '' If the Lord were pleased to kill us, he 
 would not liave received abunit-olFeiiugand a meat-offering 
 at our hands, neither would he have shewed us all these 
 things," Judg. xiii. 23. He hath received thee into his 
 church, and entertained thee with the delights and fatness 
 of his house (Psal. xxxvi. 8), and bid thee welcome to his 
 table, and feasted thee with his body and his blood, and 
 communicated in these his quickening Spirit ; and will he 
 then disown thee, and refuse thee, when thou drawest 
 nearer him, and art cast upon him for thy final doom ? 
 After so many receptions in the way of grace, dost thou yet 
 doubt of his recei\'ing you. 
 
 9. Consider how nearly thou art related to him in this 
 state of grace ; thou art his child, and hath he nf»t the 
 bowels of a father? When thou didst ask bread, he was not 
 used to give thee a stone ; and will he give thee hell, when 
 thou askest but the entertainment in heaven, which he hath 
 promised thee? Thou art his friend (John xv. 14, 15), and 
 ■will he not receive his friends ? Thou art his spouse, be- 
 trothed to him the very day when thou consentedst to his 
 covenant ; and where then shouldst thou Uve but with him? 
 Thou art a member of his body, of his flesh and bone, Eph. 
 V. 30 ; and no man ever yet hated his own flesh, but 
 nourisheth and cherisheth it, even as the Lord the church, 
 verse 29 : as he came down in flesh to be a suitor to thee, 
 so he caused thee to let go all for him ; and will he now 
 forsake thee ? Suspect it not, but quietly resign thy soul 
 into his hands, and say. Lord, take this soul that pleads re- 
 lation to thee ; it is the voice of thy child that crieth to 
 thee; the name of a father, which thou hast assumed to- 
 wards me, is my encouragement. Wlien thou ditlst call us 
 out of the world unto thee, thou saidst, I will receive you, 
 and I will be a father to you, and ye shall be my sons and 
 daughters, 2 Cor. -vi. 17, 18. O our Father, which ai't in
 
 244 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIKVER. 
 
 heaven, sliut not out tliy children, the childi-en of thy love 
 and promise. The compassion that thou hast put into man 
 engageth him to reheve a neighbour, yea, an enemy, much 
 more to entertain a child ; our children and our fi'iends dare 
 trust themselves ujiou our kindness and fidelity, and fear not 
 that Yre will reject them in then- distress, or desti-oy them, 
 though they do sometimes offend us : our kindness is cruelty 
 in comparison of thine ; our love deserveth not the name 
 of love in comparison of thy most precious love. Thine is 
 the love of God, who is love itself, 1 John iv. 8, 16 ; and 
 who is the God of love, 2 Cor. i. 13, 11 ; and is answerable 
 to thme omnipotency, omniscience, and other attributes : 
 but ours is the love of frail and finite sinfiil men. As we 
 may pray to thee to forgive us our trespasses, for we also 
 forgive those that have trespassed against us ; so we may 
 pray to thee to receive us, though we have offended thee, 
 for even Ave receive those that have offended us. Hath thy 
 love unto thine own its breadth, and length, and height, 
 and depth ; and is it such as passeth knowledge ? Eph. iii. 
 17-19. And yet canst thou exclude thine own, and shut 
 them out that cry unto thee ? Can that love, which washed 
 me and took me home when I lay wallowing in my blood, 
 reject me, when it hath so far recovered me? Can that love 
 now thrust me out of heaven, that lately fetched me from 
 the gates of hell, and placed me among thy saints ? " Whom 
 thou lovest, thou lovest to the end," John xiii. 1. "Thou 
 art not as man, that thou shouldst repent," Numb, xxiii. 
 19. " With thee is no variableness, or shadow of turning," 
 Jam. i. 17. If yesterday thou so freely lovedst me as to 
 adopt me for thy child, thou wilt not to-day refuse me, and 
 cast me into liell. lleceive, Lord Jesus, a member of thy 
 body ; a weak one, indeed, but yet a member, and needeth 
 the more thy tenderness and compassion, who hast taught 
 us not to cast out our infants, because they are small and 
 weak. " We have forsaken all to cleave unto thee, that 
 we might vnth. thee be one flesh apd spu-it," Eph. v. 31 ; 
 1 Cor. vi. 17. O cut not off, and cast not out, thy mem- 
 bers that are ingrafted into thee. " Thou hast dwelt in me
 
 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 245 
 
 here by faith, and shall I not now dwell with thee?" Eph, 
 iii. 17. Thou hast prayed to the Father, that we mav be 
 one in thee, and may be with thee to behold thy glory, 
 John xvii. 20-24 ; and wilt thou deny to receive me to that 
 glory, who pray but for what thou hast prayed to thy Fa- 
 ther? Death maketh no separation between thee and thy 
 members ; it dissohefh not the union of souls with thee, 
 though it separate thom from the flesh ; and shall a part 
 of thyself be rejected and condemned ? 
 
 10. Consider that Christ hath sealed thee up unto sal- 
 vation, and given thee the earnest of his Spirit; and 
 therefore will certainly receive thee, 2 Cor. i. 22 ; v. 5 ; 
 Eph. i. 13, 14; iv. 30. Say, therefore, to him. Be- 
 hold, Lord, thy mark, thy seal, thine earnest : flesh and 
 blood did not illuminate and renew me ; thy Spirit which 
 thou hast given me is my witness that I am thine, Rom. ^-iii. 
 16. And wilt thou disown and refuse the soul that thou 
 liast sealed ? 
 
 11. Consider that he that hath given thee a heavenly 
 mind, will certainly receive thee into heaven. If thy trea- 
 sure were not there, thy heart would never have been tliere, 
 Matt. \i. 21. Thy weak desires do shew what he intends 
 thee for ; he kindled not those desires in vain. Thy love to 
 him (though too small) is a certain proof that he intends not 
 to reject thee ; it cannot be that God can damn, or Christ 
 refuse, a soul that doth sincerely love him : he that loveth, 
 '■'■ dwelleth in God, and God in him," 1 John iv. 15, 16. 
 And shall he not then dwell Avith God for ever ? God fit- 
 teth the nature of every creature to its use, and agreeably 
 to the element in which they dwell ; and, therefore, wlien 
 he gave thee the heavenly nature (tliough but in weak be- 
 ginnhigs), it shewed his will to make thee an inhabitant of 
 heaven. 
 
 Say, therefore, to him, O Lord, I had never loved thee 
 if thou liadst not begun and loved me first; I had not 
 minded thee, or desired after thee, if thou hadst not kindled 
 these desires : it caimot be that thy gi-ace itself should be a 
 deceit and misery, and intended but to tantahze us ; and
 
 246 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 that thou hast set thy servants' souls on longing for that 
 which thou wilt never give them. Thou wouldst not have 
 given me the wedding-garment, when thou didst invite me, 
 if thou hadst meant to keep me out: even the grain of mus- 
 tard-seed which thou sowedst in my heart, was a kind of 
 promise of the happiness to which it tendeth. Indeed I have 
 loved thee so little, that I am ashamed of myself, and con- 
 fess my cold indifferency deserves thy -vvrath ; but that I love 
 thee, and desire thee, is thy gift, which signifieth the higher 
 satisfving gift : though I am cold and dull, my eyes are to- 
 wards thee ; it is thee that I mean when I can but groan : it 
 is long since I have bid this world away; it shall not be my 
 home or portion : O perfect what thou hast begun ; this is 
 not the time or place of my perfection ; and though my life 
 be now hid with thee in God, when thou appearest, let me 
 appear with thee in glory, Col. iii. 4. And, in the mean- 
 time, let this soul enjoy its part that appeareth before thee ; 
 give me what thou hast caused me to love, and then I shall 
 more perfectly love thee, when my thirst is satisfied, and the 
 water which tliou hast given me shall spring up to everlasting 
 life, John iv 14. 
 
 12. Consider, also, that he that hath engaged thee to 
 seek first his kingdom, is engaged to give it them that do 
 sincerely seek it. He called thee off the pursuit of vanity 
 when thou wast following the pleasures and profits of the 
 world ; and he called thee to labour for the food that perisheth 
 not, but endureth to everlasting hfe, John vi. 27. Since 
 then it hath been thy care and business (notwithstanding 
 all tliine iinperfections), to seek and serve him, to please 
 and honour liiin, and so to run that thou mightest obtain. 
 
 Say, then, Tliough my sins deserve thy wrath, and no- 
 thing that I have done deserve thy favour, yet godliness 
 hath tliy promise of the life to come; and thou hast said, that 
 " he tliat seeks sludl find," Matt. vii. 7, 8. O now let me 
 find the kingdom tliat I have sought, and sought by thy en- 
 couragement and help : it cannot be that any should have 
 cause to repent of serving thee, or suffer disajijjointment that 
 trusts upon thee. My labour for the world was lost and
 
 THE LAST "WORK OF A BELIEVER. 247 
 
 vain, but thou didst engage me to be steadfast and abound 
 in thy work, on this account, that my hibour shouhl not be 
 in vain, 1 Cor. xv. 58. Now give the full and final an- 
 swer unto all my prayers : now that I have done the fight, 
 and finished my course, let me find the crown of righteous- 
 ness which thy mercy hath laid up, 2 Tim. iv. 8. O crown 
 thy graces, and with thy greatest mercies recompense and 
 perfect thy preparatory mercies, and let me be received to 
 thy glory, who have been guided by thy counsel, Psal. 
 Lxxiii. 24. 
 
 13. Consider that Christ hath already received millions 
 of souls, and never was mifaithful unto any. There are 
 now with him the spirits of the just made perfect, that in 
 this life were imperfect as well as you. Why, then, should 
 you not comfortably trust him with your souls ? and say, 
 Lord, thou art the connnon salvation and refuge of thy 
 saints ; both strong and weak, even all that are given the* 
 by the Father, shall come to thee, and those that come thou 
 wilt in no wise cast out. Thousands have been entertained 
 by thee that were unworthy in themselves, as well as I. It 
 is few of thy members that are now on earth, in compari- 
 son of those that are with thee in heaven. Admit me. Lord, 
 into the new Jerusalem : thou wilt have thy house to be 
 filled; O, take my spirit into the number of those blessed 
 ones that shall come from east, west, north, and south, and 
 sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom ; 
 that we may, together with eternal joys, give thanks and 
 praise to thee that hast redeemed us to God by thy blood. 
 
 14. Consider that it is the will of the Father himself that 
 •we should be glorified. lie therefore gave us to his Son, 
 and gave his Son for us. to be our Saviour, " That whoso- 
 ever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlast- 
 ing life," John iii. 16, 17. All our salvation is the pro- 
 duct of his love, Eph. ii. 4; John vi. 37. John xvi. 26, 
 27, " I say not that I will pray the Father for you, for the 
 Father himself loveth you, because ye have loved me," &c. 
 John xiv. 21, " He that loveth me shall be loved of my
 
 248 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 Father, and I will love him, and will manilest mj-self to 
 him." 
 
 Say, therefore, with our dying Lord, " Father, into thy 
 hands I commend my spirit." By thy Son, who is the way, 
 the truth, and the life, I come to thee, John xiv. 6. "Ful- 
 ness of joy is in thy presence, and everlasting pleasures at 
 thy right hand," Psal. xvi. 11. Thy love redeemed me, 
 renewed and preserved me ; O now receive me to the ful- 
 ness of thy love. This was thy will in sending thy Son, 
 that of all that thou gavest him he should lose nothing, but 
 should raise it up at the last day. O let not now this soul 
 be lost that is passing to thee through the straits of death. 
 I had never come unto thy Son, if thou hadst not cbawn me, 
 anil if I had not heard and learned of thee, John vi. 44, 
 45. I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, 
 that thou hast revealed to me, a babe, an idiot, the blessed 
 mystei'ies of thy kingdom, Luke x. 21 ; Acts iv. 13. O 
 now as the veil of flesh must be withdrawn, and ray soul be 
 parted from this body, withdraw the veil of thy displeasure, 
 and shew thy servant the glory of thy presence : that he 
 that hath seen thee but as in a glass, may see thee now with 
 open face ; and when my earthly house of this tabernacle is 
 dissolved, let me inhabit thy building not made with hands, 
 eternal in the heavens, 2 Cor. v. 1. 
 
 15. Lastly, Consider that God hath designed the ever- 
 lasting glory of his name, and the pleasing of his blessed 
 will, in our salvation ; and the Son must triumph in the per- 
 fection of his conquest of sin and Satan, and in the perfect- 
 ing of our redemption ; and, doubtless, he wUl not lose his 
 Father's glory and his own. Say, then, with confidence, I 
 resign my soul to thee, O Lord, who hast called and chosen 
 me, that thou mightest make knoAvn the riches of thy glory 
 on me, as a vessel of mercy prepared unto glory, Rom. ix. 
 23. Thou hast predestinated me to tlie adoption of thy 
 child by Christ unto thyself, to the praise of the glory of 
 thy grace, when;in thou hast made me accepted in thy Be- 
 loved, Epli. i. 5, G, 11, 12. lleceive me now to the glory
 
 THE JJs.Sr WORK OF A BELIEVER. 249 
 
 which thou hast prepared for us, ]\Iatt. xxv. 34. The hour 
 is at hand ; Lord, glorify thy poor adopted child, that he 
 may for ever jrlonfy thee, John xvii. 1. It is thy promise 
 to glorify those whom thou dost justify, Rom. viii. 30. As 
 " there is no condemnation to them that are in Christ" 
 (Rom. \'iii. 1), so now let him present me faultless before 
 the presence of his glory with exceedmg joy ; and to thee 
 " the only wise God our Sa^dour, be the glory, majesty, 
 dominion, and power for evermore. Amen." Jude 24, 25. 
 
 ^Vhat now remaineth, but that we all set ourselves to 
 I'sarn this sweet and necessary task, that we may jo^•fully 
 ]jerform it in the hour of our extremity ; even to recom- 
 mend our departing souls to Christ, with confidence that 
 he will receive them. It is a lesson not easy to be learned; 
 for faith is weak, and doubts and fears w-ill easily arise, and 
 nature will be loth to think of dying ; and we that haVe so 
 much olfended Christ, and lived so strangely to him, and 
 been entangled in too much familiarity with the w-orld, shall 
 be apt to shrink when we should jo}-fully trust him with our 
 departing souls. O, therefore, now set yourselves to over- 
 come these difficulties in time. You know we are all readv 
 to dejiart : it is time this last important work were thorcuglily 
 learned, that our death may be both safe and comfortable. 
 
 There are divers other uses of this doctrine, that I should 
 have urged upon you, had there been time. As, 1. If 
 Christ will receive your departing souls, then fear not death, 
 but long for this heavenly entertainment. 
 
 2. Then do not sin for fear of them that can but kill the 
 body, and send the soul to Christ. 
 
 3. Then think not the righteous uidiappy because they 
 are cast off by the world ; neither be too much troubled at 
 it yourselves when it comes to be your case ; but remember 
 that Christ will not forsake you, and that none can hinder 
 him from the receiving of your souls. No mahce nor 
 slanders can follow you so far as by defamation to make 
 your justifier condemn you. 
 
 4. If you may trust him with your souls, then trust him 
 with your friends, your children that you must leave behind,
 
 250 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 with all your concernments and affairs : and trust him witli 
 his gospel and his church ; for they are all his own, and he 
 will preyail to the accomplishment of his blessed pleasure. 
 
 But, 5. I shall only add that use which the sad occasion 
 of our meeting doth bespeak. What cause have we now 
 to mix our sorrows for our deceased friend, ■\\nth the joys of 
 faith for her felicity ! We have left the body to the earth, 
 and that is our lawful sorrow, for it is the fi'uit of sin ; but 
 her spirit is received by Jesus Christ, and that must be our 
 joy, if we will behave ourselves as true believers. If we 
 can suffer vdth her, should we not rejoice also with her? 
 And if the joy be far greater to the soul with Christ, than 
 the ruined state of the body can be lamentable, it is but 
 reason that our joj^ should be greater for her joy, than our 
 sorrow for the dissolution of the flesh. We that should not 
 much lament the passage of a fi-iend beyond the seas, if it 
 were to be advanced to a kingdom, should less lament the 
 passage of a soul to Christ, if it were not for the remnant 
 of our woeful unbelief. 
 
 She is arrived at the everlasting rest, where the burden 
 of corruption, the contradictions of the flesh, the molesta- 
 tions of the tempter, the troubles of the world, and the in- 
 juries of malicious men, are all kept out, and shall never 
 more disturb her peace. She hath left us in these storms, 
 who have more cause to weep for ourselves, and for our 
 children, that have yet so much to do and suffer, and so 
 many dangers to pass through, than for the souls that are 
 at rest ^\^th Christ. We are capable of no higher hopes 
 than to attain that state of blessedness which her soul pos- 
 sesseth ; and sIuiU we make that the matter of our lamenta- 
 tion iis to her, which we make the matter of our hopes as 
 to ourselves? Do we labour earnestly to come tliither, and 
 yet lament that she is there ? You will say, it is not be- 
 cause she is clothed ujjon with the house from heaven, but 
 that she Is unclothed of the flesh : but is there any other 
 passage than death into inmiortality ? Must we not be 
 unclothed before the garments of glory can be put on ? 
 She bemoaneth not her own dissolved body ; the glorified
 
 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 251 
 
 soul can easily bear the corruption of the flesh ; and if you 
 saw but what the soul enjoyeth, you would be like-minded, 
 and be moderate in your griefs. Love not yourselves so 
 as to be unjust and unmerciful in your desires to yoiu: 
 friends. Let Satan desire to keep them out of heaven, but 
 do not you desire it. You may desire your own good, but 
 not so as to deprive your friends of theirs ; yea, of a greater 
 good, that you may have a lesser by It. And if it be their 
 company that you ilesire, in reason you should be glad that 
 they are gone to dwell where you must dwell for ever, and 
 therefore may for ever have their company ; had they staid 
 on earth you would have had their company but a little 
 •while, because you must make so short a stay yourselves. 
 Let them therefore begin tlieir jom-nej' before you ; and 
 grudge not that they are first at home, as long as you ex- 
 pect to find them there. In the mean time he that called 
 them from jou hath not left you comfortless ; he is with 
 you himself, who is better than a mother, or than ten thou- 
 sand friends : when grief or negligence hindereth you from 
 observing him, yet he is with you, and holdeth you up, and 
 tenderly pro\'ideth for you : though turbulent passions in- 
 juriously question all his love, and cause you to give him 
 unmannerly and unthuTikful words, yet still he beareth with 
 you, and forgiveth all, and doth not forsake you for your 
 pee\'ishiiess and weakness, because you are his children ; 
 and he kuowcth that you mean not to forsake liim. Re- 
 buke your passions, and calm your minds ; reclaim your 
 thouglits, and cast away the bitterness of suspicious, quar- 
 relsome unbelief; and then you may perceive the presence 
 of your dearest Friend and Lord, who is enough for you, 
 though you had no other friend. Without him all the 
 friends on earth would be but silly comforters, and leave 
 you as at the gates of hell ; without him all the auguls and 
 saints in heaven woxdd never make it a heaven to you. 
 Grieve not too much that one of your candles is put out 
 while you have the sun ; or if indeed it be not diiy with any 
 of you, or the sun be clouded or eclipsed, let that rather be 
 the matter of your grief; fmd out the cause, and presently
 
 2o2 THE LAST WOr.K OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 submit and seek reconciliation : or if you are deprived of 
 this light, because you are yet asleep in sin, hearken to his 
 call, and rub your eyes : ' ' Awake, thou that sleepest, and 
 arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light," Eph. 
 V. 14. " Knowing that it is now high time to awake out 
 of sleep, our salvation being nearer than when we first be- 
 haved : the night is far spent, the day of etei-nal light is 
 even at hand ; cast off therefore the works of darkness, and 
 put on all the armour of hght ; Avalk honestly and decently 
 as in the day," K,om. xiii. 11-14. And whatever you do, 
 make sure of the Friend that never dieth, and nCAer shall 
 be separated fi-om you ; and when you die ^vill certainly re- 
 ceive the souls which you commend mito him. 
 
 And here, though coutraiy to my custom, I shall make 
 some more particular mention of our deceased iiiend on 
 several accounts. 1. In prosecution of this use that now 
 we are upon, that you may see in the e'vHdences of her hap- 
 piness how httle cause you have to indulge extraordinary 
 grief on her account ; and how much cause to moderate your 
 sense of our loss, with the sense of her felicity. 2. Tliat 
 you may have the benefit of her example for yom* imitation, 
 especially her children that are bound to observe the holy 
 actions as well as the instructions of a mother. 3 . For the 
 honour of Christ, and his grace, and his servant : for as God 
 hath promised to honour those that honour him (1 Sam. ii. 
 30), and Christ hath said, " If any man serve me, him vrHl 
 my Father honour," John xii. 26 ; so I know Christ will 
 not take it ill to be honoured in his members, and to have 
 his ministers subserve him in so excellent a work : it is a 
 very considerable part of the love or hatred, honour or dis- 
 honour, that Christ hath in the world, which lie receiveth 
 as he ap]5eareth in his folloAvers. He that will not see a 
 cup of cold water given to one of them go imrewarded, and 
 will tell those at the last day that did or did not visit and 
 reheve them, that they did or did it not to him, will now 
 expect it from me as my duty to give him the honour of his 
 graces in his deceased servant ; and I doubt not will ac- 
 cordmgly accept it, Avhen it is no other indeed than his own
 
 XriE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVKll. 2^3 
 
 honour that is my end, and nothing bnt the -words of truth 
 and soberness shall be the means. 
 
 And here I shall make so great a transition as shall re- 
 tain my discourse in the narrow compass of the time in which 
 she lived near me, and under my care, and in my familiar 
 acquaintance, omitting all the rest of her life, that none may 
 say I speak but by hearsay of things which I am uncertain 
 of; and I will confine it also to those special gifts and gi'aces 
 in which she was eminent, that I may not take you up with 
 a description of a Christian as such, and tell you only of 
 that good which she held but in common with all other 
 Christians. And if any thing that I shall say were unknown 
 to any reader that knew her, let them know that it is be- 
 cause they knew her but distantly, imperfectly, or by re- 
 ports : and that my advantage of near acquaintance did give 
 me a just assurance of what I say. 
 
 The graces which I decerned to be eminent in her were 
 these. 1. She was eminent in her contempt of the pride, 
 and pomp, and pleasure, and vanity of the world ; and in 
 her great averseness to all these, she had an honest impa- 
 tience of the life which is common among the rich and vain- 
 glorious in the world : voluptuousness and sensuaHty, excess 
 of drinking, cards and dice, she could not endure, whatever 
 names of good house-keeping or seemly deportment they 
 borrowed for a mask. In her apparel she went below the 
 garb of others of her rank ; indeed in such plainness as did 
 not notify her degree ; but yet in such a grave and decent 
 habit as notified her sobriety and humihty. She was a 
 stranger to pastimes, and no companion for time-wasters ; 
 as knowing that persons so near eternity, that have so short 
 a Ufe, and so great a work, have no time to spare. Accord- 
 ingly, in her latter days she did, as those that grow ■wise by 
 experience of tlie vanity of the world, retire from it, and 
 cast it off before it cast off her : she betook herself to the 
 society of a people that were low in the world, of humble, 
 serious, upright lives, though such as had been wholly stran- 
 gers to her ; and an;nng these poor inferior strangers she 
 Hved in contentment and quietness ; desirmg rather to con-
 
 254 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 verse with those that -woiikl help her to redeem the time, 
 in praj'er and editying conference, than vnth those that would 
 grieve her by consuming it on their lusts. 
 
 2. She was very prudent in her converse and affairs (al- 
 lowing for the passion of her sex and age), and so escaped 
 much of the inconveniences that else in so great and mani- 
 fold businesses would have overwhelmed her : as "a good 
 man will guide his affairs with discretion," Psal. cxii. 5 ; so 
 " discretion will preserve him, and understanding will keep 
 him, to deUver him fi-om the way of the evil man, who 
 leaveth the paths of uprightness to walk in the way of dark- 
 ness," Prov. ii. 11-13. 
 
 3. She Avas seriously religious, without partiality, or any 
 taint of siding or faction, or holding the faith of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ in respect of persons. I never heard her speak 
 against men, or for men, as they diffei'ed in some small and 
 tolerable things : she impartially heard any minister that 
 was able, and godly, and sound in the main, and could bear 
 with the weaknesses of ministers when they were faithftil. 
 Instead ol owning the names or opinions of Prelatical, Pres- 
 byterian, Independent, or such like, she took up with the 
 name and profession of a Christian, and loved a Christian 
 as a Christian, without much respect to such different, toler- 
 able opinions. Instead of troubling herself with needless 
 scruples, and making up a religion of opinions and singulari- 
 ties, she studied faith and godliness ; and lived upon the 
 common certain truths, and well-known duties, which have 
 been the old and beaten way, by which the universal church 
 of Christ hath gone to heaven in former ages. 
 
 4. She Avas very impartial in her judgment about par- 
 ticular cases, being the same in judging of the case of a 
 child and a stranger ; and no interest of children, or other 
 relations, could make her swerve from an equal judgment. 
 
 6. She very much preferred the spiritual welfare of her 
 children before their temporal ; looking on the former as 
 the true felicity, and on the latter without it but as a plea- 
 sant, voluntary misery. 
 
 6. Since I was acquainted with her, I always found her
 
 ' THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEYICR. 255 
 
 very ready to good works, according to her power. And 
 when she hath seen a poor man come to me, that she con- 
 jectured solicited me for relief, she hath reprehended me for 
 keeping the case to myself, and not inviting her to contri- 
 bute ; and I could never discern that she thought any thing 
 so well bestowed as that which relieved the necessities of the 
 poor that were honest and uidustrious. 
 
 7. She had the wonderful mercy of a man-like, Christian, 
 patient spirit, under all afllictions that did befall her ; and 
 under the nmltitude of troublesome businesses, that would 
 have even distracted an impatient mind. Though sudden 
 anger was the sin that she much confessed herself, and there- 
 fore thought she Avanted patience, yet I have oil wondered 
 to see her bear up with the same alacrity and quietness, 
 when Job's messengers have brought her the tidings that 
 would have overwhelmed an impatient soul. AVhen law- 
 suits and the great afflictions of her children have assaulted 
 her like successive waves, which I feared would have borne 
 her into the deep, if not devoured all her peace, she sus- 
 tained all as if no gi'eat considerable change had been made 
 against her, having the same God and the same Christ, and 
 promises, and hope, from which she fetched such real com- 
 fort and support as shewed a real, serious faith. 
 
 8. She was always apt to put a good interpretation upon 
 God's providences ; like a right believer, that having the 
 spirit of adoption, perceiveth fatherly love in all, she would 
 not easily be persuaded that God meant her any harm : she 
 was not apt to hearken to the enemy that accuseth God 
 and his ways to man, as he accuseth man and his actions 
 to God : she was none of those that are suspicious of God, 
 and are still concluding death and ruin from all that lie doth 
 to them, and are gathering wrath from misinterpreted ex- 
 pressions of his love; who weep because of the smoke before 
 they can be warmed by the fire. Yet (Jod is good to Israel ; 
 
 _ and it shall go well with them that fear before him (Tsal. 
 Ixxiii. ] ; Eccles. viii. 12, 13), were her conclusions from 
 the shai"])est providences : she exjiected the morning in the 
 darkest night, and judged not of the end by the begimiing ;
 
 256 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 but was always confident if slie could but entitle God in tte 
 case that the issue would be good. She was not a mur- 
 raiu'er against God, nor one that contended with her Maker ; 
 nor one that created calamity to herself by a self-troubling; 
 unquiet mind : she patiently bore what God laid upon her, 
 and made it not hea-vier by the additions of uncomfortable 
 prognostics, and misgi\dng or repining thoughts. She had 
 a great confidence in God, that he was doing good to her 
 and hers in all ; and where at present she saw any matter 
 of grief, she much supported her soul Avith a belief that God 
 would remove and overcome it in due time. 
 
 9. She was not troubled, that ever I decerned, with 
 doubtings about her interest in Christ, and about her own 
 justification and salvation ; but whether she reached to as- 
 surance or not, she had confident apprehensions of the love 
 of God, and quietly reposed her soul upon his grace. Yet 
 not secure through presumption or self-esteem, but comfort- 
 ing herself in the Lord her God ; by this means she spent 
 those hours in a cheerful performance of her duty, which 
 many spend in fruitless self- vexation for the failings of their 
 duty, or in mere inquiries whether they have grace or not ; 
 and others spend in wrangling, perplexed controversies 
 about the manner or circumstances of duty : and I believe 
 that she had more comfiirt fi-om God by way of reward upon 
 her sincere obedience, while she referred her soul to him, 
 and rested on liim, than many have that more anxiously 
 perplexed themselves about the discerning of their holiness, 
 when they should be studying to be more holy, that it 
 might discover itself. And by this means she was fit for 
 praises and thanksgiving, and spent not her life in lamenta- 
 tions and complaints ; and made not religion seem terrible 
 to the ignorant, that judge of it by the faces and carriage 
 of professors. She did not represent it to the world as a 
 morose and melancholy temper, but as the rational crea- 
 ture's cheerful obcdirncc to his Maker, actuated by the 
 sense of the wonderful love that is manifested in the Re- 
 deemer, and by the hopes of the purchased and promised 
 felicity in the blessed sight and fruition of God. And I
 
 THE L.VST WOllK OF A BELIEVER. 25/ 
 
 conjecture that her forementioned disposition to tliink -well 
 of God, and of his providences, together with her long and 
 manifold experience (the great advantage of ancient, tried 
 Christians)., did much conduce to fi-ee her from doubtings 
 and disquieting feai*s about her own sincerity and salvation ; 
 and I confess, if her life had not been answerable to her 
 jieacc and confidence, I should not have thought the better, 
 1 lut the worse, of her condition ; nothing being more lamen- 
 table than to make haste to hell, through a wilful confidence 
 ihat the danger is past, and that they are in the way to 
 heaven as well as the most sanctified. 
 
 10. Lastly, I esteemed it the height of her attainment 
 that she never discovered any inordinate fears of death, but 
 a cheerful readiness, willingness, and desii'e, to be dissolved, 
 and be with Cluist. This was her constant temper, both in 
 health and sickness, as far as I was able to observe. She 
 would be frequently expressing how little reason she had to 
 be desirous of longer lite, and how much reason to be will- 
 ing to depart. Divei's times in dangerous siclaiess I have 
 been with her, and never discerned any considerable aversc- 
 iiess, dejectedness, or fear. JNIany a time I have thought 
 how great a mercy I should esteem it if I had attained that 
 measure of feai-less wilHngness to lay do^^■n this flesh, as she 
 had attahied. jNIany a one that can make light of wants, 
 or threats, or scorns, or any ordinary troubles, cannot sub- 
 mit so quietly and wUlingly to death. ]\Iany a one that 
 can go through the labours of religion, and contemn oj)j)o- 
 sition, and easily give all they have to the poor, and bear 
 imprisonments, banishment, or contempt, can never over- 
 come the fears of death. So far, even the father of lies 
 spake truth ; " Skin for skin, yea, all that a man hath will 
 he give for his life," Job ii. 4. I took it, therefore, for a 
 high attainment and extraordinary mercy to our deceased 
 friend, that the king of terrors was not teri'ible to her. 
 Though I doubt not but somewhat of averseness and fear is 
 so rooted in nature's self-preserving principle, as that it 
 is almost inseparal»le, yet in her 1 never discerned an\- 
 troublesome appeai'ances of it. "Wlien I first came to her
 
 258 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVEK. 
 
 in the beginning of her last sickness, she suddenly passed 
 the sentence of deatli Ti]ion herself, ivithout anj- shew of fear 
 or trouble, Avhen to iis the disease appeared not to be great. 
 But when the di:?ease increased, her pains were so little, and 
 the effect of the fever was so much in her head, that, after 
 this, she seemed not to esteem it mortal, being not sensible 
 of her ease and danger : and so, as she lived without the 
 fears of death, she seemed to us to die without them. God, 
 by the nature of her disease, removing death as out of her 
 sight, when she came to that weakness, in which else the 
 encounter was like to have been sharper than ever it was 
 befoi-e. And thus, in one of the weaker sex, God hath shew- 
 ed us that it is possible to live in holy confidence, and peace, 
 and quietness of mind, without distressing griefs or fears, 
 even in the midst of a troublesome world, and of vexatious 
 businesses, and with the afflictions of her dearest relations 
 almost continually before her : and that our quiet or dis- 
 quiet, om* peace or trouble, dependeth more upon our in- 
 Avard sti'ength and temper than upon our outward state, 
 occasions, or provocations ; and that it is more in our hands 
 than of any or all our friends and enemies, whether we shall 
 have a comfortable or uncomfortable life. 
 
 What remaineth now, but that all we that survive, espe- 
 cially you that are her children, do follow her as she follow- 
 ed Christ? Though the word of God be }our sufficient rule, 
 and the example of Christ be your perfect pattern, yet as 
 the instructions, so the example of a parent must be a 
 weighty motive to quicken and engage you to your duty ; 
 and will else be a great aggravation of your sin. A holy 
 child of unholy parents doth no more than his necessaiy 
 duty ; because whatever parents are, he hath a holy God : 
 but an unholy child of holy parents is inexcusable in sin, and 
 deplorably miserable, as forsaking the doctnne and pattern 
 both of their Creator and their progenitors, Avhom nature 
 engageth them to observe ; and it will be an aggravation of 
 llieir deserved misery to h.ave their parents witness against 
 tlicm, that they taught tlieni, and they would not learn ; and 
 went before them in a holy life, but tliey would not follow
 
 TUK L.\ST WOKK OF A BELIEVKK. 251) 
 
 them. " My son, hear the instruction of thy father, and 
 forsake not the law of thy mother ; for they shall be an or- 
 nament of gi'aco unto thy head, and chains about thy neck," 
 Prov. i. 8, 9. Read and consider Prov. xxx. 17 ; xv. 20 ; 
 xxiii. 22, 25. Sins against parents have a special curse 
 affixed to them in this life, as the case of Ham shewcth ; and 
 the due observance and honouring of parents hath a special 
 ]>roniise of temporal blessings, as the fifth commandment 
 sheweth. " Childi-en, obey your parents in the Lord, for it 
 is right : honour thy lather and thy mother (wliich is the first 
 commandment with promise), that it may be well with thee, 
 and thou mayst live long on the earth," Eph. vi. 1-3. The 
 histories of all ages are so full of the instances of God's 
 judgments, in this life, upon five sorts of sinners, as may do 
 nmch to convince an atheist of the government and special 
 providence of God ; that is, upon persecutors, murderers, 
 sacrilegious, false witnesses (especially by perjury), and 
 abusers and dishonourers of parents. And the gi'eat hon- 
 our that is due to parents when they are dead, is to give 
 ju.st honour to thuu- names, and to obey their precepts, 
 and imitate their good examples. It is the liigh com- 
 mendation of the Pechabites, that they strictly kept the 
 precepts of their father, even in a thing indilferent, a 
 mode of living ; not to diink whie, or build houses, but 
 dwell in tents : and God annexeth this notable blessing, 
 '■'■ Thus saith the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel ; Because 
 ye have obeyed the commandment of Jonadab your father, 
 and kept all his precepts, and done according unto all that 
 he hath commanded you : therefdre thus saith the Lord of 
 hosts, the God of Israel ; Jonadab the son of Rechab shall 
 not want a man to stand before me for ever," Jer. xxxv. 6, 
 7, 18, 19. But, especially in the great duties of religion, 
 where parents do but deliver the mind of God, and use their 
 authority to procure obedience to divine authority, and 
 where the matter itself is necessary to our sahation, the 
 obligation to obedience and imitation is most indisjiensable ; 
 and disobedience is an aggravated iniipiity, and the noto- 
 rious brand of infelicity, and prognostic of ensulni,'' woe ; the
 
 2 GO Till: LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 ungodly cliikken of godly parents being the most deplorable, 
 jnhappy, inexcusable persons in the world (if they hold on.) 
 
 There is yet another doctrine that I should speak to. 
 
 Doct. 7. Prayer in general, and this prayer in particular, 
 that Christ will receive our departing souls, is a most suit- 
 able conclusion of all the actions of a Christian's life. 
 
 Prayer is the breath of a Christian's life : it is his wcrk 
 and highest converse, and therefore fittest to be the con- 
 cluding action of his life, that it may reach the end at which 
 he aimed. We have need of prayer all our lives, because 
 Ave have need of God, and need of his manifold and conti- 
 nued gi-ace. But in our last extremity we have a special 
 need. Though sloth is apt to seize upon us, while prospe- 
 rit}' hindereth the sense of oiu* necessities, and health j^er- 
 suadeth us that time is not near its journey's end, yet it is 
 high time to pray Avith redoubled fervour and importunit}' 
 when we see that Ave are near our last. "When Ave find that 
 Ave haA'e no more time to pray, but must now speak our 
 last for om' immortal souls, and must at once say all that Ave 
 have to say, and shall never have a hearing more. Oh, then, 
 to be unable to pray, or to be faithless, and heartless, and 
 hopeless in om' prayers, Avould be a calamity beyond expres- 
 sion. 
 
 Yet I know, for ordmary obser\-ation tells it us, that 
 many truh' gracious persons may accidentally be inchsposed 
 and disabled to ]}Vi\y Avhen they are near to death. If tlu- 
 disease be such as doth disturb the brain, or take them up 
 Avith violence of pain, or overAvhehn the muid by perturba- 
 tion of the passions, or abuse the imagination, or notably 
 Avaste and debilitate the spirits, it cannot be expected thai 
 a body thus disabled should serve the soul in this or any 
 other duty. But still the praj-ing habit doth remain, though 
 a distempered body do forbid the exercise. The habitual 
 desires of the soul are there ; and it is those tluit are the 
 soul of prayer. 
 
 But this should move us to pray Avliile A\-e have time, and 
 Avhile our bodies have strength, and our spirits haA'e vigour 
 and alacrity to serve us, seeing Ave are so uncertain of bodily
 
 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIE VEU. 261 
 
 ilispositlon aiul capacity so near our end. O prav, and pray 
 ^\^th all your hearts, before any fever or delirium overthrow 
 your understandings or your memories ; before your thoughts 
 are all commanded to attend your pains, and before your 
 decayed spirits fail you, and deny their necessary service to 
 }-our suits ; and before the apprehensions of your speedy ap- 
 proach to the presence of the most holy God, and your en- 
 trance upon an endless state, do amaze, confound, and over- 
 whelm your souls -with fear and perturbation, O Christians! 
 what folly, what sin and shame is it to us, that now while we 
 ha\'e time to pray, and leave to pray, and helps to prav, 
 r.nd have no such disturbing hindrances, we should yet want 
 hearts, and have no mind, no life and fervour for so gi'eat 
 a work ! O j^ray now, lest you are unable to pray then ; 
 nnd if yon are then hindered but by such bodily indisposed- 
 ness, God will understand your habitual desires, and your 
 groans, and take it as if you had actually prayed. Pray 
 now, that so you may be accj[uainted with the God that then 
 you must fly unto for mercy, and may not be strangers to 
 him, or unto prayer; and that he may not find then that 
 j'our prayers are but the expression of your fears, and not 
 of your love, and are constrained, and not voluntary mo- 
 tions mito God : pray now m preparation to your dying 
 prayers. Oh what a terrible thing it is to be to learn to 
 pray in that hour of exti-emity, and to have then no prin- 
 ciple to pray by, but natural self-love, which every thief 
 hath at the gallows ! To be then Avithout the spirit of 
 prayer, when without it there cannot an acceptable Avord 
 or gi'oan be uttered ; and when the rejection of our suits 
 and person will be the prologue to the final judicial rejec- 
 tion, and will be a distress so grievous as presumptuous souls 
 will not believe, till sad experience become their tutor. Can 
 you imagine that you shall then at last be taught the art of 
 acceptable prayer merely by horror, and the natural sense 
 of pain and danger, as seamen in a storm, or a malefactor 
 by the rack, when in your health and leisure you Avill not bo 
 persuaded to the daily use of serious prayer, but number 
 Aourselves with the families that are under the Avrath of the
 
 262 THK LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 
 
 Almiglity, being such as call not on his name, Jer. x. 25 ; 
 Psalm Ixxix. 6. 
 
 Indeed, there are many pra}"ers must go before, or else 
 this prayer, " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit," will be in 
 vain, when you would be loth to find it so. You must first 
 pray for renemng, sanctif\-ing grace, for the death of sin, 
 and the pardon of sin, for a holy life, and a heavenly mind, 
 for obedience, patience, and perseverance ; and if you ob- 
 tain not these, there is no hope that Jesus Christ should 
 receive your spirits, that never received his sanctifying 
 Spirit. 
 
 How sad is it to observe that those that have most need 
 of prayer, have least mind to pray, as being least sensible of 
 their needs ! Yea, that those that are the next step to the 
 state of de\Tls, and have as much need of prayer as any 
 miserable souls on earth, do yet deride it, and hate those 
 that seriously and fervently perform it ; a man of prayer 
 being the most common object of their malicious reproach 
 and scorn. O miserable Cainites, that hate their brethren 
 for offering more acceptable sacrifice than their ovni ! Little 
 do they know how much of the very satanical nature is in 
 that malice, and in those reproachful scorns. And little do 
 they know how near they are to the curse and desperation 
 of Cain, and with what hon-or they shall cry out, " My 
 punishment is greater than I can bear," Gen. iv. 11, 13. If 
 God and good men condemn you for your lip-ser\'ice, and 
 heartless devotions, and ungodly lives, will you therefore hate 
 the holy nature and better lives of those that judge you, when 
 you should hate your own ungodliness and hj"pocrisy ? 'Hear 
 what God said to the leader of your sect, " Why art thou 
 WToth ? and why is thy countenance fallen? If thou doest well, 
 shalt thou not be accepted ? and if thou doest not well, sin 
 lieth at the door," Gen. iv. 6. Have you not as much 
 need to pray as those tliat you hate and reproach for pi'ay- 
 ing? Have you not as much need to be oft and earnest in 
 prayer as they ? Must Christ himself spend whole nights in 
 prayer (Luke vi. 12), and shall an ignorant, sensual, har- 
 dened sinner think he hath no need of it, though he be un-
 
 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 263 
 
 converted, unjustified, vuiready to die, and almost past the 
 opportunity of prating? O miserable men, that shortly 
 would cry and roar in the anguish of their souls, and yet 
 ■will not pi"ay while there is time and room for prayer! Their 
 Judge is -willing now to hear them, and now they have 
 nothing but hj-pocritical, lifeless words to speak ! Praying is 
 now a wearisome, tedious, and unpleasant thing to them, 
 that shortly would be glad if the most heart-tearing lamen- 
 tations could prevail for the crumbs and drops of that mercy 
 which they thus despise, Luke xvi. 24. Of all men in tlie 
 world it ill becomes one in so deep necessities and dangers 
 to be prayerless. 
 
 But for you. Christians, that are daily exercised in this 
 holy converse with your Maker, hold on, and grow not 
 strange to heaven, and let not your holy desires be extin- 
 guished for want of excitation. Prayer is your ascent to 
 heaven ; your departure from a vexatious world to treat 
 with God for your salvation ; your retirement from a world 
 of dangers into the impregnable fortress where you are safe, 
 and from vanity unto felicity, and from troubles unto rest, 
 whi<;li, though you cannot come so near, nor enjoy so fully 
 and del ig-lit fully, as hereafter you shall do, yet thus do you 
 make your approaches to it, and thus do you secure your 
 future full fruition of it. And let them all scoff at hearty, 
 fervent prayer as long as they will, yet prayer shall do that 
 with God for you which health, and wealth, and dignity, and 
 honour, and carnal pleasures, and all the world shall never 
 do for one of them. And though they neglect and vilify 
 it now, yet the hour is near when they will be fain to scamble 
 and bimgle at it themselves ; and the face of death will better 
 teach them the use of prayer, than our doctrine and examjile 
 now can do. A departing soul will not easily be prayerless, 
 nor easily be content with sleepy prayers ; but, alas ! it is 
 not eveiy pra} er that hath some fervency from the power of 
 fear that shall succeed. Many a thousand may perisli for 
 ever that have prayed, " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.'' 
 But the soul that breatheth jifter Christ, and is weary of 
 sinning, and hath long been pressing toward the mark, may
 
 2Gi Tin: last wouic or a believer. 
 
 receive encouragement for his last petitions, from tlie bent 
 md success of all the foregoing prayers of his life. Believe 
 it, Christians, you cannot be so ready to beg of Christ to 
 receive youi' souls, as he is ready and •\vilhng to receive 
 them. As you come praying, therefore, into the world 
 of grace, go prating out of it into the world of glory. It 
 is not a Avork that you were never used to, though 
 you have had lamented backwardness, and coldness, and 
 omissions. It is not to a God that you were never with 
 before ; as you know whom you have believed, so yovi may 
 know to whom you pray. It is indeed a most important 
 suit to beg for the receiving of a departed soul; but it is 
 put up to him to whom it properly doth belong, and to him 
 that hath encouraged a'ou by answering many a former 
 prayer Avith that mercy which was the earnest of this, and 
 it is to him that loveth souls much better than any soul can 
 love itself. O live in pra^'er, and die in prayer, and do not, 
 as the graceless, witless world, despise prayer while they 
 live, and then think a Lord, have mercy on me, shall prove 
 enough to pass them into heaven. Mai-k then- statues and 
 monuments in the churches, whether they be not made 
 kneeling and lifting up the hands, to tell you that all Avill 
 be forced to pray, or to approve of prayer, at their death, 
 whatever they say against it in tlieir life. O pray, and wait 
 l)ut a little longer, and all your danger Avill be past, and you 
 are safe for ever ! Keep up yovu- hands a little longer, till 
 you shall end your contlict with the last enemy, and shall 
 pass li'oni prayer to everlasting praise.
 
 SHORT MEDITATIOXS 
 
 ON 
 
 R o :m a :; S v. l-5 ; 
 
 or iUS SilEUOlNG AERO.VD r.oo's I.OVr ox THE UK.VilT BY TUE IIOLT C'lOST. 
 
 ExvERiEXCE of the want of this effusion of God's love, 
 and some small taste of its sweetness, make" me think the 
 thoughts of this very suitable to one expecting- death. 
 
 The words contain a golden chain of highest blessings 
 on all ti'ue ChrL^tians. 
 
 I. They are supposed to have faith, that is, both a ge- 
 neral trust m God's revelations and grace, and a special 
 trust in Jesus Christ, as given by the father's love to be the 
 Redeemer, to justify, sanctify, and glorify his people. I 
 have oft proved this justifying faith to be no less than our 
 unfeigned taking Christ for our Saviour, and becoming true 
 Christi:ms, according to the tenor of the baptismal cove- 
 nant. As to the acts, it is formally trust — one in three ; 
 the understanding's assenting trust, the will's consenting 
 trust, and the executive power's practical, vcntm-ing, obey- 
 ing trust. 
 
 II. All ti-ue believers are justified ; even all that consent 
 to the baptismal covenant, and choose God to be then* (iod, 
 and Christ to. be their Saviour, and the Holy Ghost to be 
 their Sanctifier, and give up themselves to him by true re- 
 solution, as their only ruler, hope, and happiness ; though 
 this be done with so great weakness, as endeth not all doubts, 
 nor (pieteth the mind.
 
 266 SHORT MEDITATIONS ON ROM.^^S V. 1-5, &C. 
 
 To be justified is not to be accounted such as have no 
 sin, but, 1. To be made such by pardon through Christ's 
 merits, and by true faith, as God will take by special love 
 and favour unto hfe. 2. To be accounted such by God. 
 3. To be virtually sentenced such by the law of grace and 
 fiiith, and to be just in law sense. 4. At last to be judged 
 such by public sentence. 5. And to be used as such. 
 
 jSTot justified by the law of innocency, or of Moses, but 
 by Christ's law of grace. 
 
 Not justified perfectly till the time of perfection. Much 
 punishment on soul and body is yet to be taken off, and 
 and more sins daily to be pardoned, and we, before the 
 world, to be sentenced as just to life everlasting. 
 
 III. The justified have peace ivith God. They are re- 
 conciled, and in a state of love and fi'iendship. It signifieth 
 mutual peace, but with great inequahty. God's love and 
 favour to us is the stable, constant part. Our consent also, 
 and acceptance of his terms of peace, is constant in its 
 truth : but om- sense of God's love, which is the peace pos- 
 sessed by the soul, is weak and inconstant, and too oft quite 
 lost or obscured by ignorance, mistake, and fear. But it 
 must be known that this is a diseased state, unnatural to 
 the believer as such ; as It is unnatural for a woman married 
 to a faithfid husband, to he In terror, thinking that he will 
 kill her, or doth not love her ; or for a child to think the 
 same of a loving fiither. Faith, of its own nature, tendeth 
 to the soul's peace and joy, in the sense of God's love. 
 And how Is Christ offered to us, but as a Sa\nour, to bring us 
 by grace to glory ? And he that accepteth him as such, 
 whereby he is justified, doth sure believe that he is offered 
 as such ; for none can accept what he thinks not to be 
 offered. And this implicth some hope, at least, that Christ 
 will be such to us ; and did faith work strongly and kindly, 
 its effect would be a constant, jo}'ful state of soul, as plea- 
 sant health and mirth arc to our natures. All our distrustful 
 fears and griefs, and disquietness of soul, are for want of 
 more faith, as sickness and pain are for the want of vital 
 cau.ses of health.
 
 SHORT MEDITATIONS OX ROMANS V. 1-5, &C. 2G7 
 
 IV. This peace wltli God is only " through our Lord 
 Jesus Christ." Tliough it be a vain dream to think by 
 justifving faith is meant Christ only and not faith, yet it 
 is no other faith but the foresaid believing trust on Christ. 
 Therefore, as faith is our part, so it supposeth Christ, and 
 all the works of his office, and righteousness, on his part, 
 as its object. Chi-ist is the purchasing cause ; but our trust 
 and acceptance is that -which is pleasing to God, arid chosen 
 by him to be om* part, Avithout innocency, or keeping the 
 Jewish law. 
 
 Since man once sinned, God's justice and man's con- 
 science tell us, that we are unfit for God's acceptance or 
 conununion immediately, but must have a suitable mediator. 
 Oh I blessed be God for this suitable Mediator. Without 
 him I dare not pray, I cannot hope, I dare not die ; God 
 would else frown me awaj- to misery. All the hope of par- 
 don and salvation that I have ; all the access to God, and 
 the mercies and deliverances that I have received, have 
 been by this Author and finisher of our faith. Into his 
 conducting hands I give my soul ; and into his preserving 
 hands both soul and body ; and into his recei\'ing hands I 
 commend my departing soul. 
 
 V. Yer. 2. " By whom we have access by faith unto this 
 grace wherein we stand ;" that is, into this state of blessed 
 Christianity, peace with God, and the following blessings. 
 As it is by marriage that a woman hath right to her hus- 
 band's estate and honours, and by inheritance that a child 
 comes to his father's maintenance and land. Tliis is no di- 
 minution to God's love. To say it is all by Christ, is not 
 to take it as ever the less fi-om God the Father. It is more 
 to give us Christ, and life in him, than to have given us 
 life without a Christ (John iii. 16 ; 1 John v. 10 — 12.) ; 
 as God is, nevertheless, the giver of light to the earth, for 
 giv-ing it by the sun. Second causes diminish not the ho- 
 nour of the first. 
 
 VI. " And rejoice in hope of the glory of God." Here 
 is, 1. The beatifical object — " the glory of God." 2. The
 
 268 SHORT MEDITATIONS OX ROMANS V. 1-5, &C. 
 
 beatifical act — " rejoice." 3. The mediate, causing act — ■ 
 " hope." All presupposing flaith and justification. 
 
 1. The "glory of God" is that glorious appearance of 
 God to man and angels, -which maketh happy, 1. The mind 
 by beholding it. 2. The Avill by lo\'ing it, and receiving the 
 <!ommunications of love. 3. The executive powers by joy- 
 ful praise, &c. 
 
 2. Though some foretastes are here, it is yet said to be 
 hoped for ; and we hope for that -which is not seen. When, 
 faith is said to be that which we are justified or saved by, 
 it includeth hope, though, more precisely taken, they an; 
 distinct. " We are saved by hope." The same word is 
 oft translated " trust" and " hope ;" and faith is trust. To 
 trust Christ for salvation, includeth hoping that he will save 
 us. But hope is denominated from the good hoped for, 
 and fiiith from the cause by which we hope to obtain it. 
 
 Hope doth not necessarily imply either certainty or un- 
 certauitj% It may stand with both in various degi'ees. 
 
 3. Rejoicing is made by God the very naturally desired 
 state of the soul. It is, when natural, the pleasant efflor- 
 escence of the spirits, or their state of health. 
 
 It is pleasure that is the spring or poise of all motion 
 sensitive in the world. TruMt sua qucmqne, vohiptas. Ap- 
 petite, or -will, is the active principle ; and congi'uous, good 
 or delectable, is the object. The world is undone by the 
 seduction of false deceitful pleasure ; and though we that 
 made not ourselves are not so made for ourselves as that 
 our pleasure or felicity in God should be so high in our de- 
 sire as God himself, who is the ultimate object of our love : 
 yet, seeing sucli an object he is, and the love of him (and 
 received fi'om him) is our felicity, these are never to be se- 
 parated. 
 
 What have I to rejoice in, if this hoped-for glory be not 
 my joy ? All things else are d}-ing to me ; and God him- 
 self is not my felicity, as he afflicts me, nor as he giveth me 
 the transitory gifts of nature, but as he is to be seen in glor}\ 
 If this be not my joy, it is all but vanity. What, then,
 
 SHORT MEDITATIONS OX KOM.\XS V. 1-5, &C. 2G0 
 
 should all mj- thoughts and labour aim at more, as to my- 
 sell", than to hope lor and foretaste this glory. Xo sm heth 
 heavier on me than ray hopes of glory i-aise me to no higher 
 joy ; and that the gi'cat weakness of my faith appeax-eth by 
 .such dull thoughts of glory, or by withdra^N-ing fears. Sure 
 there is enough m the glory of God, soundly beUeved and 
 hoped for, to make a man rejoice in pain and weakness, and 
 to make him long to be with Christ. I live not according 
 to the nature of Christianity, if I live not as in peace with 
 God, and in the joyful hopes of promised glory. 
 
 VII. "Xot only so, but we glory in tribulation." Glory 
 is so transcendent, and tribulation so small and short, that 
 an expectant of glory may well rejoice in bodily sufferings. 
 It is tribulation for Chi-ist and righteousness' sake that we 
 . are said to glory in : the rest, for oiu* sins, it is well if we 
 can improve and patientlj' bear. Yet in them we may re- 
 joice in hope of glory, though we glory not of them. Oh ! 
 if all the painful, languid days, and nights, and years that 
 I have had, as the fruit of my sin, had been suffermgs for 
 that which I am now hated and hunted for, even for preach- 
 ing Christ when men forbid me, how joyfully might I un- 
 ilergo it : but }'et, even here, approaching glory should be 
 my joy. Alas ! my groans and moans are too great, and 
 my joy too little. 
 
 YIII. " Knowing that tribulation worketh patience."' 
 That which worketh patience is matter of joy : for patience 
 (loth us more good than tribulation can do hurt ; why, then, 
 do I groan so much under suffering, and so little study 
 and exercise patience, and no more rejoice in the exercise 
 thereof? 
 
 IX. " And patience, experience."' It is manifold and 
 profitable experience which patient suflering brings. It 
 giveth us experience, as of nature's weakness, and the great 
 need of faith ; so of the truth of God's promises, the love 
 and tenderness of Christ, the acceptance of our prayers ; and 
 the power of the Spirit's aid and gi-ace. . O what abundance 
 of experiences of God and ourselves, and the vanity of crca-
 
 270 SHOUT Mf:i)ITATIONS ON KOMAK8 V. 1-5, &C. 
 
 tures, had we wanted, if we had not waited in a sufTeiing 
 state : alas ! how many experiences have I forgotten. 
 
 X. " And experience, hope." A bare promise should 
 give us hope : but we ai'e still distrustful of ourselves, and 
 of all the clearest evidences, till experience help us, and set 
 all home Oh, what an advantage hath a Christian of great 
 and long experience for his hope and joy ! And yet when 
 notable experiences of God's proA-idence are past and gone, 
 an unbelieving heart is ready to question, whether the things 
 came not by mere natural course ; and, like the Israelites in 
 the wilderness, dangers and fears bear down even long and 
 great experiences. This is my sin. 
 
 XI. " And hope maketh not ashamed." That is, true 
 hope of what God hath promised shall never be disap- 
 pointed. They that trust on deceitful creatures are deceived, 
 and ashamed of theii* hope : for all men are liars, that is, 
 uutrusty ; but God is true, and ever faithful : O Avhat a 
 comfort is it that God commandeth me to triist him ! 
 Sure such a command is a virtual promise, from him that 
 cannot fail that trust which he commandeth. Lord, help 
 me to trust thee in greatest dangers, and there to rest. 
 
 XII. " Because the love of God is shed abroad upon our 
 hearts, by the Holy Ghost which is given to us." It is the 
 love of God shed abroad on our hearts by the Holy Ghost 
 which must make us rejoice in hope of the glory of God, even 
 in tribulation. 
 
 Here I must consider, I. AVliat is meant by the love of 
 God. II. AVhy and how it is shed abroad on the heart by 
 the Holy Ghost. 
 
 I. By the love of God is meant the effects of his lovo. 
 1. His special grace. 2. The pleasant gust or sense of it. 
 
 II. God's love thus shed on the heart, presujiposeth it 
 expressed in the gospel and providence, and contains all these 
 particulars. 
 
 1. The sanctifying of the soul l\y renewing grace. This 
 is tlie giving of the Spirit, as he is given to all true Chris- 
 tians.
 
 SHORT MEDITATIONS ON ROMANS V. 1-5, &C. 271 
 
 2. Herein the Holy Ghost makes uS perceive the exceed- 
 ing desirubleness of the love of God, mid niaketh us most 
 desire it. 
 
 3. He giveth the soul some easing hope of the love of 
 God. 
 
 4. He quietcth the doubts, and fears, and trouble of the 
 soul. 
 
 5. He rjiiseth our hopes, by degrees, to confident assu- 
 rance. 
 
 6. Then the thouglits of God's love are pleasant to the 
 sold, and give it such delight as -we feel in the lore and frui- 
 tion of our most valued and beloved friends. 
 
 7. The soul in tliis state is as unapt to be jealous of God, 
 or to question his love, as a good child or -wife to question 
 the love of a parent or husband, or to hear any that speak 
 evil of them. 
 
 8. This, then, becomes the habitual state of the soul, in 
 all changes, to live in the delightful sense of the love of God, 
 as ■\ve do live in jjleasure vntli our dearest friends. 
 
 O blessed state, and fii*st fruits of heaven ! and happ}- are 
 they that do attain it. And though lower degrees have 
 ^eir degree of happiness, yet how for short are such, in 
 goodness, amiableness, and comfort, of those that are thus 
 rich in grace. 
 
 This presupposeth, 1. Knowledge of God and the gospel. 
 2. True belief and hope. 3. A sincere and fruitful life. 
 4. Mortification as to idol worldly vanities. 5. A conviction 
 of our suicerity in all this. G. A conclusion that God doth 
 love. 
 
 Bnt yet it is somewhat above all this. A man may have 
 all this in his mind anil mouth, and yet want this gust of 
 effused love upon his heart. These are the way to it, but 
 not itself 
 
 This is the greatest good on this side heaven ; to which 
 all wealth and honour, all fleshly pleasure and long life, all 
 learning and knowledge, are unworthy to be once compared : 
 brietlv,
 
 i'72 SHORT :\IEDITATIONS OX R05IAXS V. 1-5, &C. 
 
 1. It is the flower and Liglicst part of God's image on 
 man. 
 
 2. It is tlie soul's true communion witli God, and fruition 
 of him, which carnal men deride: 'even as our eye hath com- 
 munion -with the sun, and the flourishing earth enjoys its re- 
 viving heats. 
 
 3. It is that which all lower grace doth tend to, as child- 
 hood doth to manhood : and what is a world of infants, com- 
 paratively, good for? 
 
 4. It is that which most properly answcrcth the design of 
 redemption, and the wonders of God's love therein ; and all 
 the tenor of the gospel. 
 
 6. It is that which is niost fully called the Spirit of God, or 
 Christ m us : he hath lower works, but this is his great 
 Avork, by which he possesseth us, as God's most pleasant 
 habitation : " For we have net received the spirit of bond- 
 age again to fear, but the spirit of power and love, and a 
 sound mind." (2 Tim. i. 7.) 
 
 6. It is only that which all men in general desire, I mean 
 the only satisfj'ing content and pleasure that man is capable 
 of on earth. All men would have quieting and constant 
 ])leasure, and it is to be found in nothing else but the ef- 
 fused love of God. 
 
 7. It is that whicli will make every burden light, and ixll 
 affliction easy : when the sense of God's love is still upon 
 the soul, all pain and crosses will be but as blood-letting by 
 the kindest physician to save the patient's life. God will 
 not be suspected or grudged at in suffering ; his love Aviil 
 sweeten all. 
 
 8. It M'ill overcome abiuidance of temptations, which no 
 men's wit, or learning, or knowledge of the words of Scrips 
 turc, will overcome. No argnnnents will draw a loving child, 
 or Avife, from the parents, or husband, that tlu'y know doth 
 love them. Love is the; most powerful disputant. 
 
 9. It puts a mellow, })leasant sweetness into all our du- 
 ties. "When we hear the word, or receive the sacrament, it 
 is to such a soul as pleasant food to the most litalthful man ; 
 when we pray or praise God it comes from a comforted
 
 SHORT MEDITATIONS ON ROMANS V. 1-5, &C. 273 
 
 Ticart, and excites and inereasctli the comfort it comes from. 
 Oh, wlio can l)e backward to draw near to God in prayer 
 or meditation, Avho tasteth the sweetness of his love ! Tliis 
 is religion indeed, and tells ns what its life, and use, and 
 plory is. This is true walking ^vith God in the best degree. 
 AVhen the soul liveth in the taste of his love, the heart will 
 he still with him, and that will be its pleasure. And God 
 most deliglits in such a soul. 
 
 10. This is it that putteth tlie sweetest relish on all our 
 mercies. Deny God's love, and 30U deny them all. If you 
 taste not his love in them, you taste little more than a beast 
 may taste ; poor food and raiment is sweet, -vvith the sense 
 of the love of God. Had I more of this, T should lie down, 
 and rise, and walk in jjleasure and content. I could bear 
 the loss of other things ; and though nature will feel pains, 
 I should have ])leasure and jieace in the midst of all my jiains 
 and gi'oans. This is the white stone, the new name ; no man 
 well knoweth it who never felt it in himself 
 
 1. There is no dying comfortably without this experienced 
 taste of the love of God. This will draw up the desires of 
 the soul ; love tasted, casteth out fear : though God be holy 
 and just, and judgment terrible, and hell intolerable, and 
 the soul hath no distinct idea of its future state out of the 
 body, and though we .see not whither it is that we must go, 
 <he taste of God's love will make it go joyfully, as trusting 
 him ; as a child will go any whither in his father's power 
 and hand. 
 
 But all the knowledge in the world without this quiets not 
 a departing soul. A man may write as many l)ooks, and 
 preach as many sermons of heaven, as I have done, and speak 
 of it, and think of almost nothing else, and yet till the soul 
 be sweetened and comforted with the love of God shed 
 abroad on it b}' the Holy Ghost, death and the next life will 
 be rather a man's fear than his desire. And the common 
 fear of death which we see in the far greater part even of 
 godly persons doth tell us, that though they may have sav- 
 ing desires and hopes, yet this sense of God's love on the 
 heart is rare. 
 
 S
 
 27 i SHORT MEDITATIONS OX KOM-\XS V. 1-5, &C. 
 
 "What wonder, then, if our language, our converse, oui* 
 prayers, have too little savour of it, and in comparison of 
 joyful believers' duties, be but like green apples to the mel- 
 low ones. 
 
 My God, I feel what it is that I want, and I perceive 
 what it is that is most desii'able : Oh, let not gmlt be so far 
 unpardoned as to deprive my soul of this greatest good, 
 which thou hast commended to me, and commanded, and 
 which in my languishing and pains I so much need ! Did I 
 beg for wealth or honour, I might have it to the loss of 
 others. But thy love wiU make me more useful to all, and 
 none will have the less for my enjoyment ; for thou. Lord, 
 art enough for all ; even as none hath the less of the sun- 
 light for my enjojing it. The least well-grounded hope of 
 thy love is better than all the pleasm-es of the flesh ; but 
 without some pleasant sense of it, alas ! what a withered, 
 languishing thing is a soul ! Thy lo%dng-kindness is better 
 than life ; but if I taste it not, how shall I here rejoice in 
 God, or bear my hea\T burdens ? 
 
 O let me not be a dishonour to thy family, where all 
 have so great cause to honour thy bounty by their joy and 
 hopes ; nor, by a sad and feai-ful heart, tempt men to think 
 that thy love is not real and satisfactory. I can easily be- 
 lieve and admire thy gi-eatness and thy knowledge. Let it 
 not be so hard to me to believe and taste thy goodness and 
 thy love, Avhich is as necessary to me. 
 
 If there be anything (as surely there is) m which the di- 
 vine nature and spirit of adoption consisteth, as above all 
 the art and notions of religion, which are but like to other 
 acquired knowledge, sure it must be this holy appetite and 
 habitual inclination of the soul to God, by way of love, which 
 is bred by an internal sense of his loveliness, and loving In- 
 clination to man ; which difl'orenceth a Christian from other 
 men, as a child differs towards his flither, fi-om strangers, or 
 from common ncighbom-s. Till tlie love of God be the very 
 state and nature of the soul (working here towards his ho- 
 nour, interests, word, and servants), no man can say that 
 he is God's habitation by the Spirit ; and how the heart
 
 SHORT MEDITATIOXS OX r.OM.\XS V. 1-5. &c. 275 
 
 will ever be tliiis habited, without believing God's love to us, 
 it is hard to conceive. 
 
 Experience tells the world how strongly it constraineth 
 persons to love one another, if they do but think that they 
 are strongly beloved by one another. In the love that 
 tends to marriage, if one that is inferior do but know that a 
 person of far greater worth doth fervently love them, it al- 
 most puts a necessity and constraint on them for returns of 
 love : nature can scarce choose but love in such a case. 
 Love is the loadstone of love. A real taste of the love ol 
 God in saving souls by Christ and grace, is it that constrain- 
 eth them to be holy ; that is, to be devoted to that God in 
 love. 
 
 III. But this mnst as necessarily be the work of the Holy 
 Ghost, and can be no more done Avithout him than the earth 
 can be illuminated, and the vegetables live, without the sun. 
 But all the approaches of the Holy Spirit suflice not to pro- 
 duce this great effect, and give us the (Hvine, holy nature. 
 
 The same sunshine hath three difTercnt effects on its ob- 
 jects. 
 
 1. On most things, as houses, stones, earth, it causeth 
 nothing but accidents of heat, colour, and motion. 
 
 2. On some things it causeth a seminal disposition to 
 vegetable life, l)ut not life itself 
 
 .". In this disposed matter it causeth vegetable life itself. 
 
 So doth the Spirit of God, 1. Operate on millions but 
 lifeless accidents, as the sun on a stone wall. 2. On others 
 dispose and prepare them to divine life. 3. On others so 
 disposed it efiecteth the divine life itself, when holy love is 
 turned into a habit like to nature. 
 
 That none but the Holy Ghost doth make this holy change 
 is e%ddent ; for the eflLct cannot transcend the causos. 1. 
 Xature alone is dark, and knoweth not the attractive anii- 
 ablencss of God till illuminated, nor can give us a satisfac- 
 tory notice of God's special love to us. 
 
 2. Nature is guilty, ami guilt breedcth fears of justice, 
 and fear makes us become wild, and fl}- from God lest he 
 sliould hurt us.
 
 27 G SHORT MEDITATIONS OX ROMAJS'S V. 1-5, &C. 
 
 3. Nature is under penal sufferings already, and feeletli 
 pain, fear, and many hurts, and foreseeth death, and under 
 this is undisposed of itself to feel the pleasure of God's love. 
 
 4. Nature is corrupted and diverted to creature vanity, 
 and its appetite goeth another way, and cannot cui-e itself, 
 and make itself suitable to the amiableness of God. 
 
 5. God hateth wickedness and wicked men, and mere 
 nature cannot secure us that we are saved from that enmity. 
 
 Diligence may do much to get religious knowledge, and 
 words, and all that Avhich I call the art of religion, and God 
 may bless this as a preparation to holj' life and love ; but 
 till the soul's appetite incline with desire to God and holi- 
 ness, di\ine things will not sweetly relish. 
 
 And this is a great comfort to the thoughts of the sanc- 
 tified, that certainly their holy appetite, desire, and com- 
 placency, Is the work of the Holy Ghost. For, 1. This se- 
 cureth them of the love of God, of which it is the proper 
 token. 2. And It assureth them of their union with Christ, 
 when they live because he liveth, even by the Spirit, which 
 is his seal and pledge. 3. And it proveth both a future 
 life and their title to it : for God maketh not all this pre- 
 paration for it by his Spirit in vain. 
 
 But, alas ! if it were not a work that hath great impedi- 
 ment. It would not be so rare In the world. AVhat is it in 
 us that keepeth the sim of love from so shining on us as to 
 revive our souls into holy contentments and dehght ? 
 
 It must be supposed, 1 . That all God's gifts are free, and 
 that he giveth not to all aHke ; the wonderful variety of 
 creatures proveth this. 2. Tiie reasons of his differencing 
 works are his OAvn will, and Inferior reasons are mostly un- 
 known to us, of which he is not bound to give u£ an account. 
 
 3. But yet we see that God doth his works in a casual 
 order, and one work prepareth for another ; and he maketh 
 variety of capacities, which occasion variety of receptions 
 and of gifts ; and he useth to give every thing that to which 
 l»e hath brought it Into the next capacity and disposition. 
 
 And therefore, in general, we may conclude that we feel 
 not God's love shed abroad upon the heart, because the
 
 SHOUT MKDITATIOXS ON UOMAX.S V. 1 5, &C. 277 
 
 lioart is undisposed, and is not in the next disposition there- 
 to ; and abused fi-ee-will hath been the cause of that. That 
 ■\ve have grace, is to be ascribed to God : that we are Avith- 
 out it, is to be ascribed to ourselves. 
 
 1. Heinous guilt of former sin may keep a soul much -with- 
 out the delights of divine love ; and the heinousness is not 
 only in the greatness of the evil done materially, but oft in 
 our long and -wilful committing of smaller sins against know- 
 ledge, and conscience, and consideration. The Spirit thus 
 grieved by hardened hearts, and wilful reptilses, is not 
 quickly and easily a Comforter to such a soul ; and -when 
 the shiner doth repent, it leaveth him more in uncertainty 
 of his sincerity when he thinks, '' I do but repent, purpose, 
 and promise now ; and so I aft did, and yet returned the 
 next temptation to my sin : and how can I tell that my 
 heart is not the same, and I should sin again if I had the 
 same temptations ? " O Avhat doubts and pci-plexities doth 
 oft wilful sinning prepare for I 
 
 2. And sins of omission have here a great part. Tlie 
 sweetness of God's love is a reward which slothfid servants 
 are unmeet for. It follows a " Well done, good and faith- 
 ful servant." There is needful a close attendance upon 
 God, and devotedness to him, and improvement of gospel 
 grace, and revelation, to make a soul fit for amicable, sweet 
 communion with God ; all that will save a soul from hell 
 ■will not do this. 
 
 He that will taste these divine love tokens must, 1. Bo 
 no stranger to holy meditation and prayer, nor unconstant, 
 cold, and cursory in them : but must dwell and walk above 
 with God. 2. And he must be wholly addicted to improve 
 his Master's talents in the world, and make it his design 
 and trade on earth to do all the good in the world he can ; 
 and to keep his soul clean from the flesh, and worldly va- 
 nity. And to such a soul God will make known his love. 
 
 3. And alas ! how ordinarily doth some carnal affection 
 corrupt the appetite of the soul ; when we grow too much 
 in love with men's esteem, or with earthly riches, or when 
 our throats or fancies can master us uito obedience, or vain
 
 278 SHORT MEDITATIONS ON KOMANS V. 1-5, &C. 
 
 desires of meat, drink, reci-eation, dwelling, &c., the soiii 
 losetli its a])petite to things divine ; and nothing relisheth 
 where appetite is gone or sick. "We cannot serve God and 
 INIammon, and we cannot at once taste much pleasm-e botli 
 in God and Mammon. The old, austere Christians found 
 the mortification of the fleshly lusts a great advantage to 
 the soul's delight in God. 
 
 4. And many errors about God's nature and Avorks mucli 
 hinder us from feasting on his love. 
 
 6. And especially the slight and ignorant thoughts of 
 Christ, and the Avondrous workings of God's love in him. 
 
 G. And especially if our belief itself once shake, or be nnt 
 well and firmly fovmded. 
 
 7. And our slight thoughts of the oflice and work of the 
 Holy Ghost on souls, and our necessity of it, and our not 
 begging and waiting for the Spirit's special help. 
 
 8. And lastly, our unfaithful forgctfulness of manifold ex- 
 periences and testimonies of his love, which shoidd still be 
 as fresh before us. 
 
 Alas ! my soul, thou feelest thy defect, and knowcst the 
 hinderance, but what hope is there of remed}- ? 'Will God 
 ever raise so low, so dull, so guilty a heart, to. such a fore.- 
 taste of glory, as is this effusion of his love by the Holy 
 Ghost? The lightsome days in spring and summer, when 
 the sun reviveth the late naked cartl), and clothes it with 
 delectable beauties, differs not more from night and winter, 
 than a soul thus revived with tlie love of God doth differ 
 from an unbelieving, formal soul. 
 
 Though this great change be above my power, the Spirit 
 of God is not impotent, backward, barren, or inexorable. 
 He hath appointed us means for so high a state ; and he 
 appointeth no means in vain. Were my own heart obe- 
 dient to my commands, all these following I Avould lay upon 
 it ; yea, I will do it, and beg the help of God. 
 
 I. I charge tliee, think not of (iod's goodness and love, 
 as unproportionable to his greatness and his knowledge ; nor 
 overlook, in the whole frame of heaven and earth, the mani- 
 festation of one any more than of the other.
 
 SHOUT MKDITATIOXS; OX KOMAXS V. 1-5, &C. 270 
 
 II. Therefore let not the wickedness and misery of the 
 world tempt thee to think basely of all God's mercies to the 
 world ; nor the peculiar priA-ileges of the cluu'ches draw thee 
 lo deny or contemn God's common mercies unto all. 
 
 III. I charge thee to make the study of Christ, and the 
 great woi'k of man's redemption by him, thy chiefest learn- 
 ing, and most serious and constant work ; and in that won- 
 derful glass to see the face of divine love, and to hear what 
 is said of it by the Son from heaven ; and to come boldly, 
 as reconciled to God by him. 
 
 IV. O sec that thy repentance for former sins against 
 knowledge and conscience, and the motions of God's Spirit, 
 be sound, and thoroughly lamented and ablioiTcd, how small 
 soever the matter was in itself; that so the doubt of thy 
 sincerity keep not up doubts of God's acceptance. 
 
 V. Let thy dependence on the Holy Ghost, as given 
 from Christ, be henceforth as serious and constant to thee 
 as is the dependence of the eye on the light of ihc sun, and 
 of natural life upon its heat and motion. Beg hard for the 
 Holy Spirit, and gladly entertain it. 
 
 VI. Oh, never forget the many and gi'cat experiences 
 thou hast had, these almost sixty years obsei'ved, of mar- 
 vellous favour and providence of God, for soul and body, in 
 every time, place, condition, relation, company, or change, 
 thou hast been in. Lose not all these love tokens of thy 
 Fatlier, while thou art begging more. 
 
 VII. Hearken not too much to jjalnod flesh, and look 
 not too much into the gi-ave ; but look out at thy prison 
 windows to the Jerusalem above, and the heavenly society 
 that triumph in glory. 
 
 A'lll. Let all thy sm-e notices of a future life, and of the 
 comnumion we have here with those above, draw thee to 
 think that the gi'cat number of holy souls that are gone 
 before thee, must needs be better than they were here ; and 
 that they had the same mind, and heart, and way; the 
 same Stiviour, Sanctifier, and pronilse, that thou hast ; and 
 therofoi'e they are as pledges of felicity to thee. Tliou hast 
 joyfully lived with many of them here ; and is it not better
 
 280 SHORT MEDITATIOXS OX ROMANS V. 1-5, &C. 
 
 to be with them there ? It is only the state of glory fore- 
 seen by faith, which most fully sheweth us the greatness of 
 God's love. 
 
 IX. Exercise thyself in psalms of praise, and daily mag- 
 Tofy the love of God, that the due mention of it may warm 
 and raise thy love to him. 
 
 X. Receive all temptations against divine love with hatred 
 and repulse ; especially temptations to unbelief; and as thou 
 wouldest abhor a temptation to murder, or perjury, or any 
 other heinous sin, as much abhor all temptation-; which would 
 hide God's goodness, or represent him to thee as an enemy, 
 or unlovely. 
 
 Thus God hath set the glass before us, in which we may 
 see his amiable face. But alas ! souls in flesh are in gi'eat 
 obscurity, and, conscious of their own weakness, are still 
 distrusttid of themselves, and doubt of all theu" apprehen- 
 sions, till overpowering objects and influences satisiy and 
 fix them. For this my soul T\nth daily longings doth seek 
 to thee, my God and Father : O pardon the sin that forfeits 
 grace: I am ready to say, " Draw nearer to me;" but it is 
 meeter to say, ^' Open thou my eyes and heart, and remove 
 all impediments, and uudisjwsedness, that I may believe, 
 and feel how near thou art, and hast been to me, while I 
 perceived it not." 
 
 XIII. It is God's love shed abroad on the heart by the 
 Holy Ghost which nmst make us " rejoice in hope of the 
 glory of God :" this will do it, and wthout this it will not 
 be done. 
 
 This would turn the fears of death into joyful hopes of 
 future life. If my God will thus warm my heart with his 
 love, it will have these following efl'ects in this mattei. 
 
 I. Love longeth for union, or nearness, and fruition ; and 
 it would make my soul long after God inglorious presence. 
 
 II. This would make it nuich easier to me to beheve that 
 there is certainly a future blessed life for souls ; while I 
 even tasted how God loveth them. It is no hard thing to 
 believe that the sun will give light and heat, and revive the 
 frozen earth : nur tiiat a father will shew kindness to his
 
 SHOUT MKDITATIONS OX KOM.A^S V. 1-5, &C. 281 
 
 son, or give hlia an inheritance. Why should it be hard 
 to believe that God will glority the souls whom he loveth, 
 and that he will take them near himselt"; and that thua it 
 shall be done to those whom he delights to honour ? 
 
 III. This effusion of divine love would answer my doubts 
 of the pardon of sin : I should not find it hard to believe 
 that love itself, which hath given us a Saviom*, will forgive 
 a soul that truly rcpeutetli, and hates his sin, and giveth uj) 
 imnself to Christ for justllication. It is hard to believe that 
 a tyrant will forgive, but not that a father will pardon a 
 returning prodigal son. 
 
 IV. This effusion of divine love will answer ni}- fears, 
 which arise from mere weakness of grace and duty : indeed, 
 it will give no other comfort to an unconverted soul, but 
 that he may be accepted if he come to God by Christ, with 
 true tiiith and repentance ; and that this is possible. But 
 it should be easy to believe, that a tender father will not 
 kill or cast out a child for weakness, crying, or uncleanness. 
 Divine love will accept and cherish even weak faith, weak 
 prayer, and weak obedience and patience, which are sincere. 
 
 V. This effused love would confute temptations that are 
 drawn from thy afflictions ; and make thee believe that they 
 are not so bad as ffesh rejiresenteth them : it would under- 
 stand that every son that God loveth he chasteneth, that 
 he may not be condemned with the world, and that he mav 
 be partaker of his holiness, and the end may be the quiet 
 fruit of righteousness ; it would teach us to believe that God 
 hi very laithfulness doth afflict us; and that it is a good 
 sign that the God of love uitendeth a better life for his be- 
 loved, wheiv he trieth them with so many tribulations here : 
 and though Lazarus be not saved for his suffering, it signi- 
 fied that God, who loved him, had a life of comfort for him, 
 when he had his evil things on earth. "WIku pangs lu-e 
 greatest, the birth is nearest. 
 
 VI. Were love thus shed on the heart by the Holy 
 Gliost, it would give me a livelier ajiprehension of the state 
 of blesscduess which all the faithful now enjoy : I should 
 dehghtl'uily think of them as living in the joyful love of God,
 
 282 snouT jieditatioxs ox kom.ixs v. 1-5, &c. 
 
 and ever fully replenished therewith. It pleaseth us to see 
 the earth flourish in the spring ; and to see how pleasantly 
 the lambs, and other young thmgs, ■will skip and play : 
 much more to see societies of holy Christians loving each 
 other, and provoking one another to delight in God. O 
 then what a pleasant thought should it be, to think how all 
 oiu" deceased godly friends, and all that have so died since 
 the creation, are now together in a world of divine, perfect 
 love ! How they are all continually •nTajjped up in the 
 love of God, and live in the delight of perfect love to one 
 another ! 
 
 O my soul, when thou art with them, thou wilt dwell in 
 love, and feast on love, and rest in love ; for thou wilt more 
 fidly dwell in God, and God in thee : and thou mlt dwell 
 ■with none but perfect lovers : they would not silence thee 
 from praising God in their assembly : t}Tants, malignants, 
 and persecutors, are more strange there (or far fi-om thenci.^) 
 than toads, and snakes, and crocodiles, arc from the bed or 
 bedchamber of the king. Love is the air, the region, the 
 world, they live in : love is their natui'e, their pulse, their 
 breath, their constitution, their complexion and their v.'ork : 
 it is their life, and even themselves and all. Full loth 
 Avould one of those spirits be to d^ell again among blbid 
 Sodomites, and mad, self-damning mahgnants upon earth. 
 
 VII. Yea this effused love will teach us to gather the 
 glory of the blessed from the common mercies of this life : 
 doth God give his distracted, malignant enemies, health, 
 wealth, plenty pleasure, yea, lordships, dominions, crowns, 
 and kingdoms ; and hath he not much better for beloved 
 holy souls? 
 
 Yea, doth he give the brutes life, sense, delight, and 
 beauty ; and hath he not better things for men — for saints ? 
 
 There are some so blind as to think that man shall have 
 no better hereafter, because brutes have not, but perish. 
 But they know not how erroneously they think. The seii- 
 sible souls of brutes are substance, and therefore are not 
 annihilated at death : but God put them under us, and 
 made them for us, and us more nearly for himself. Brutes
 
 SHORT MEDITATlUNS ON ROMANS V. 1-5, &C. 283 
 
 have not faculties to know and love God, to meditate on 
 him, or praise him, or by moral agency to obej' his pre- 
 cepts : they desire not any higher felicity than they have : 
 God wiU have us use their sei'vice, yea, their lives and flesh, 
 to tell us they were made for us. He tells us not what he 
 doth with them after death : but whatever it is, it is not 
 annihilation, and it is like they are in a state still of service 
 mito man : whether united, or how intlividuate, we know 
 not : nor j-et whether those philosophers are in the right, 
 that tliink that this earth is but a small image of the vast 
 superior i-cgions, where there are kingdoms answei-able to 
 these here, where the spirits of brutes are in the like sub- 
 jection in aerial bodies, to those low, rational spu-its that 
 inhabit the aerial regions, as in flesh they were to man in 
 flesh. But it is enough for us that God hath given us fa- 
 culties to know, love, praise, and obey him, and trust him 
 for glory, which he never gave to them, because they were 
 not made for things so higli. Every creatm'e's faculties are 
 suited to their use and ends. 
 
 And love teUs me, that the blessed God, who giveth to 
 brutes that life, health, and pleasure, which they are made 
 and fitted for, will give his servants that heavenly delight 
 in the fulness of his love and praise, and mutual, joyful love 
 to one another, which nature fundamentally, and grace more 
 immediately, hath made them fit for. 
 
 Blessed Jehovah ! for what tastes of this eflliscd love thou 
 hast given me, my soul doth bless thee, with some degi-ee 
 of gratitude and joy : and for those further measures which 
 I want, and long for, and which my pained, languid state 
 much needs, and would raise my joj'fid hopes of glory, I 
 wait, I beg fi"om day to day. O give me now, at the door 
 of heaven, some fuller taste of the heavenly fehcity : shed 
 more abroad upon my heart, by the Holy Ghost, that love 
 of thine which will draw up my longing soul to thee, re- 
 joicing in the hope of the glory of God.
 
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